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Like an angel of mercy—or perhaps death—Dracula had swept through the window of the desolate hovel. His presence filled the room with an otherworldly aura as he offered the young man a tantalizing promise: eternal life. Though uncertain if the transformation would take hold, Dracula extended the opportunity nonetheless. Without hesitation, the plague-stricken youth had fallen to his knees, his parched lips barely able to form the single word that would seal his fate. “Yes,” he had whispered, his voice cracked and desperate but filled with unwavering conviction.
But those were days long gone that Andor couldn’t help but recall while in his father’s presence. Now, he was a healthy, strong, immortal man with smooth white skin and plump red lips from having fed before his arrival at the castle. He had captured a nice soft boy and squeezed his nipples as he seduced the blood from his body as eagerly as he siphoned his cum.
Dracula could smell the blood and sex emitting from him. He released Andor, forcing himself not to glance once more at Jonathan, not wanting the other to know how much he was beginning to care for the young man; better he be seen as a whore to sate his lust. He had no intent on entertaining his son for long.
“I ask again. Why are you here, Andor?”
The young vampyre ran his fingers over the tuft of white in the sea of black hair, a side effect of the change from man to vampyre.
“You really have no idea what is going on outside of your little bubble, do you, father?”
“Speak plainly. I have no time for your games.”
“My siblings have noticed the rise in human activity here and are naturally concerned even as they are too frightened of you to confront you.”
“Ah, and are you here to prove to the others that you are not afraid?”
“Oh, but I’m trembling as we speak,” he mocked. “Don’t be so eager to dismiss their concerns. We are living by your rules, after all—rules that, if you break, don’t make for very good rules, now do they?”
“And what rules have I broken?”
“Did you really think you could hide that human of yours for long? Your rules were not humans cannot know of our existence without being turned or killed, and yet you were going to allow that boy to return to London.”
Now, it was Dracula’s turn to laugh. “You wish to lecture me on following rules when you are the wildest of all my children?Don’t forget that one of your little messes is still receiving care under my roof.”
Andor sighed. He knew who his father was referring to. He purposefully went out of his way to avoid the lowly manservant. “My mess, as you say, was a simple man pursued during a simpler time. Now, times have changed, humans have become more resourceful, and they are far less simple. You would return an educated man with ties to aristocracy back to the most advanced city of our era while you allow Van Helsing and his growing band of hunters to run wild within your border. Have you gone mad?”
Dracula’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of concern passing across his ancient features before being quickly masked by his usual stoic demeanor. He had indeed underestimated the situation, both with Jonathan and the growing threat of Van Helsing. However, he refused to show weakness before his impudent offspring.
“Your concern is noted, Andor,” Dracula replied coolly, “but do not presume to dictate my actions or question my judgment. I have ruled these lands for centuries, long before you drew your first breath as a mortal or vampyre.”
Andor leaned against the cracked wall, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. “And yet, here we are. The great Count Dracula, caught off guard in his own castle, distracted by a pretty face and a warm ass. Tell me, father, is this human worth risking everything we’ve built?”
Dracula’s hand shot out, gripping Andor’s throat with inhuman speed and strength. “You forget your place, boy,” he snarled, hisfangs elongating. “I created you, and I can just as easily destroy you.”
But even as he threatened his son, a part of Dracula knew Andor’s words held truth. He had grown complacent, allowing his fascination with Jonathan to cloud his judgment. The mention of Van Helsing sent a chill down his spine – how had he allowed the hunter to gain such a foothold in his domain?
Releasing Andor, Dracula turned away, his mind racing. He needed to reassert control, both over his wayward children and the growing human threat. But first, he had to deal with Jonathan. The young man’s fate now hung in the balance, caught between Dracula’s desires and the harsh realities of their world.
“Leave us,” Dracula commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. “I will address your concerns, but not tonight. Go, and speak of this to no one.”
Andor bowed mockingly, backing towards the shadows from whence he came. “As you wish, father. But remember, the others are watching. We all are.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jonathan’s eyes fluttered open, his mind still hazy from sleep and the lingering effects of his passionate encounter with Dracula. He remained perfectly still, feigning slumber as he became aware of voices in the ballroom. The conversation between Dracula and another man—Andor, he heard him called—drifted to his ears in fragments, each word sending him more on edge.
“...your rules were that humans cannot know of our existence without being turned or killed, and yet you were going to allow that boy to return to London.”
Jonathan’s heart raced as he processed the implications of those words. Turned or killed. The stark reality of his situation crashed over him like a wave, washing away the romantic notions he’d been clinging to. He strained to hear more, catching bits and pieces of their heated exchange.
“...Van Helsing and his growing band of hunters...”
“...is this human worth risking everything we’ve built?”
As the confrontation between Dracula and Andor intensified, Jonathan’s mind whirled with questions and doubts. He had known, of course, that his relationship with Dracula was unconventional, even dangerous. But hearing it laid out so bluntly—that his very existence posed a threat to Dracula and his kind—shook him to his core.
When silence finally fell over the ballroom, Jonathan dared to open his eyes fully. He found himself alone, the vast room empty save for the lingering scent of Dracula and the unfamiliar vampyre. Slowly, he sat up, wincing at the soreness in his body—a bittersweet reminder of the passion he and Dracula had shared mere hours ago.
