Page 51 of Dracula: Bound in Blood
Rain drummed steadily against the window panes as Jonathan’s resolve crumbled. Words spilled out, haltingly at first, then in a torrent. He spoke of Dracula’s otherworldly allure, of passion and terror intertwined. Of secrets hidden in shadowy corridors and choices that haunted his dreams.
Lucy listened with wide eyes, her expression a mixture of shock, disbelief, and fascination. When Jonathan finally fell silent, she took a moment to process all she had heard.
“Jonathan,” she said, at last, her voice barely above a whisper. “I... I don’t know if I can fully believe everything you’ve told me. It seems so fantastical, so impossible. But I believe that you believe it, and I can see how deeply it has affected you.”
Jonathan nodded, feeling both relieved and anxious. “I know how it sounds, Lucy. There are times I wonder if I’ve gone mad, if it was all some fever dream. But then I look at this scar. I remember the taste of his kiss and the power of his presence, and I know it was real.”
Lucy leaned forward, taking Jonathan’s hands in hers. “Then why did you leave? Why did you come back to London if what you had there was so powerful?”
Jonathan’s eyes filled with tears. “Because I was afraid. Afraid of losing myself, of becoming something I didn’t recognize. And...He sent me away, Lucy. He didn’t want me anymore.”
Lucy’s grip on his hands tightened. “Oh, Jonathan. Don’t you see? Fear is what’s holding you back. You experienced something extraordinary, something most people can only dream of. A connection so intense it transcends the boundaries of life and death. And you’re willing to let it slip away because of fear?”
Jonathan stared at her, stunned by the passion in her voice. “But Lucy, the danger-”
“Life is dangerous, Jonathan,” she interrupted. “Every day we risk our hearts, our souls. But that’s what makes it worth living. If I had the chance to experience a love like that, a connection so profound, I wouldn’t hesitate. I’d embrace it with every fiber of my being; consequences be damned.”
Her words struck Jonathan like a physical blow. He saw the truth in them, the wisdom that had eluded him for so long. “But what if he doesn’t want me?” he whispered, voicing his deepest fear.
Lucy’s eyes softened. “Then at least you’ll know. You’ll have closure. But Jonathan, from what you’ve told me, I don’t believe that’s the case. I think you both acted out of fear, and now you’re both suffering for it. You need to go back, to fight for what you want against those hunters or Van Helsing or who the hell ever else!”
Jonathan felt something stir within him, a spark of hope and a fire that had long been dormant. “You’re right,” he said, his voice growing stronger. “You’re absolutely right, Lucy. I can’t keep living like this, trapped between two worlds. I need to go back. I need to see him.”
Lucy smiled, a mixture of joy and sadness in her eyes. “Then go, Jonathan. Go and find your happiness, wherever it may lead you.”
Jonathan stepped out into the crisp London air, his Doberman puppy Béla trotting eagerly at his side. The dog had grown considerably since Jonathan last saw him, ‘Lucy did a fantastic job talking care of him.’
Jonathan’s mind churned with conflicting emotions as they rounded the corner to make their way toward the clock in the tower of the Houses of Parliament.
Lucy’s words echoed in his thoughts, reminding him of the extraordinary connection he’d shared with Dracula. The cobblestones beneath his feet felt alien now, the bustling city a stark contrast to the quiet intensity of Transylvania.
Béla’s leash tugged gently as the dog paused to sniff a lamppost. Jonathan absently scratched behind the pup’s ears, lost in contemplation.
A cool breeze rustled through the trees, carrying with it a whisper so faint Jonathan almost missed it. His name, barely audible, in a voice he’d recognize anywhere. Dracula’s voice.
Jonathan’s heart leaped into his throat, his breath catching. He spun around, eyes desperately searching the busy London street. But there was nothing - no tall, dark figure emerging from the shadows, no piercing gaze meeting his own.
His hands trembled as he steadied himself against a lamppost. That voice. After all this time, all the pain and doubt, to hear it again... Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. A cocktail of emotions swirled within him - longing, fear, hope, anger.
Jonathan closed his eyes, willing the voice to come again. But only the mundane sounds of the city reached his ears now. He felt hollowed out, aching with a need he’d tried so hard to bury.
With a shaky exhale, he pushed himself upright and continued down the street. But his steps were hesitant now, his gaze constantly darting to the shadows. Waiting. Hoping. Dreading.
A smile tugged at Jonathan’s lips as he looked down at Béla. “Well, boy, I think that settles it.”
Béla whined softly, his dark eyes fixed on Jonathan’s face.
“What do you say? Want to come with me this time?” Jonathan asked, crouching down to ruffle the dog’s fur.
Béla’s tail wagged furiously, and he let out an excited bark that echoed through the quiet street.
Jonathan laughed, his decision solidifying with each passing moment. “I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s go home, Béla. Our real home.”
The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels lulled Jonathan into a trance-like state as he gazed out the window. Rolling hills and dense forests blurred past, the landscape growing wilder with each passing mile. His fingers absently traced the rough fabric of the seat, his mind a whirlwind of memories and doubts.
Béla's steady presence beside him offered some comfort, but couldn't fully quell the storm of emotions within. What if Dracula rejected him again? What if he arrived too late? The possibilities haunted him, yet the alternative – never knowing, never trying – was unbearable.
As the train rattled on towards Transylvania, Jonathan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Whatever awaited him, he was finally on his way to confront it.