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“Because it has the power to help me live my own life as I see fit. ” I had not realized that the ring could be anything more than a token, but now that it was gone from my finger, I understood my naiveté. I felt the absence of it keenly.

“I can curse it so that he cannot use it as a beacon to find you, or as gateway to your blood and power. The curse cannot break the bond, but it can hide you from him, do you understand?”

The dark red stone flickered in the candlelight. I nodded my head as I pondered how often Vlad had used the ring to find me and haunt me, sapping away tiny bits of my power and life.

Adem moved closer to the table, his hands resting on my shoulders. I took comfort in his touch and watched as the silk bag was drawn onto the table again. The gypsy woman drew out leather pouches, touching the raised symbols branded on to them. At last she selected three. Reaching into the bag, she pulled out a black bowl and a small jar filled with what appeared to be muddy water.

The gypsy man stepped forward to help her open the small bags and measure the herbs into the bowl. They spoke in their own language in soft voices. It appeared the older man was her father from the concerned looks he cast in my direction and the gentle way he guided her hands. The herbs and water were all mixed together in the bowl until it formed a watery paste. I flinched as she placed the ring into the murky mixture, pressing it down so it disappeared. Picking up the black stone, she held it in one hand, crossing it over the bowl as she chanted.

Adem shifted on his feet behind me and I knew he was discomforted by what we were witnessing. I, too, was quite nervous, remembering old tales of witchcraft. But what recourse did I have? I was not certain God could hear my prayers, and I needed to be free of Vlad’s wrath. Desperation had brought me to this moment, and I would not flinch from it.

I did not see the curse the gypsy created, but I felt it. It tingled along my skin like angry insects. The room darkened as the candle brightened. Adem gasped behind me as the buzzing sensation grew in intensity. The shadows swallowed the room save for the tiny pool of light around the candle that was illuminating the bowl. The gypsy woman slowly dragged the bowl out of the circle of candlelight and into the darkness. As the lip of the bowl vanished into the dark, I felt the angry bite of a thousand bugs on my skin.

I gasped.

The room brightened abruptly, the darkness fleeing. The gypsy sat at the table, calmly cleaning the ring on a white cloth.

“Is it done?”

“It is done,” she answered a bit smugly. I could not blame her for feeling satisfaction in frightening a vampire. Holding out my ring, she tilted her chin toward me and I wondered if she could somehow see despite her blind eyes. “Would you like me to tell you your fortune now?”

“The curse is sufficient,” Adem said curtly. He tossed a small purse of money onto the table.

I took my ring and slipped it onto my finger. It felt heavier than before, but it was strangely comforting against my skin.

“But she should know,” the fortuneteller insisted. Her words were slightly slurred and her expression was that of someone that is inebriated. Perhaps she was drunk on her dark gypsy magick.

“Tell me what?”

“You are death, little vampire. Death to even those you love. You cannot escape that truth no matter how far you flee from the dragon. ”

“That is enough!” Adem grabbed my arm and forcibly guided me to the door.

“You cannot escape the dragon forever. It will come to consume you and death will be your harbinger. ” The fortuneteller smirked with delight as Adem tugged me out of the room.

Adem quickly escorted me down the hallway, his hand tightly holding my elbow. I considered protesting and returning, but I remembered the power in that room and did not want it directed against me. Departing in a rush of activity, I could see the fear in the faces of my hosts. I promised to see Laura soon, then I was ushered into the night and hurrying toward my carriage. Once seated inside, I pressed my hand against my bosom, feeling the ring against my skin. I could only hope that the gypsy’s magicks had worked.

Chapter 21

The Journal of Countess Dracula

October 4, 1820

The Dosza Palace

Tonight I stirred from my slumber strangely refreshed. With delight I realized I had not been tormented in my dreams. I had no nightmares of Vlad slipping into my bed to violate me, nor had I been awakened by a fearsome attack by his specter.

Instead of waking and feeling a terrible sense of dread, I felt light and carefree. I had not discerned how deeply Vlad’s presence had infected my life through our bond. I lay upon my bed listening to the night awakening beyond the covered windows, I felt the absence of a dark and painful aspect that had resided within me. Lifting my hand, I stared at the ring that had been a symbol of my enslavement to Vlad. I had taken pains to use it as a key to open doorways in the pursuit of a life free of him, but its true meaning had always haunted me. But now it was a cursed object that kept the dark tide of power that was Count Dracula from continuing its infection.

Giggling with delight, I stretched beneath the heavy silk and satin coverlets. I missed my pale blue room, but the ivory and pale green of the new suite was lovely. I lounged on my bed, relishing my new found liberation from Vlad’s evil. I wished with all my heart that Ignatius was with me to share in this glorious moment of freedom. I missed him even more keenly now that I was free of Vlad’s lurking bond. Snuggling down beneath my covers, I embraced the feeling of peace filling me. It had been so long since I had felt like the girl I once was, innocent and free. I knew this lovely moment of serenity would be short-lived, but I savored it.

The curse had worked and I felt wonderfully free.

As I suspected, my repose did not last very long. There was a soft knock on the door and I heard Csilla call out my name.

“Come in,” I replied, plumping up my pillows and nestling against them. I detested leaving my bed to face the world. I was content to lie upon the bed and think of Ignatius. I knew now that he would soon be with me. The tides of fate had obviously turned in my favor at last.

Csilla entered and strode to my bed, the silk of her dark green gown whispering against the thick Persian rug. Drawing close to the bed, she lightly touched the thick ivory lace edging the canopy drapery. “Are you pleased with the new rooms?”