Princes of the Undead

Part 22

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Dracula should never have come back to England. He had been resigned to his choices before coming back, before seeing Agatha again. Although he hadn't been able to rid himself of his feelings for her, Dracula had been able to bury them deep within himself, had been able to travel and explore the delights of the world without her spectre hanging over him. Fool that he was Dracula had thought she had lost her power over him. Yet here he was back little more than a couple of weeks and he was right back where he started from.

He craved her like no woman he had ever known before, knew he would jump through all manner of hoops just to make her smile. Yet just as Agatha brought out the best in him, she also brought out the worst. All those months of careful negotiation, first by letter, then those weeks in Italy of playing the respectful charming suitor. All undone in one night, and all because he couldn't control himself around Agatha.

The Pazzi family were not pleased with him, of that Dracula was certain. And to be fair he couldn't blame them. He had invited them to England, he had hosted a party at which their darling daughter should have been the focus, and he had spent the night quite openly obsessed with another woman. It was ironic that Dracula had only invited Agatha in the hopes he would elicit a jealous reaction from her, and then it was his own jealousy that had been on display.

It also amused him that the only Pazzi family member who didn't seem bothered by this was Isabella herself.

Perhaps the young woman really was as naïve as she presented, or perhaps she was relieved that his suit for her hand had hit what seemed an insurmountable stumbling block. Dracula had always gained the impression that she preferred her other suitor, although Isabella was too well trained to show that in any way that would be obvious, Dracula doubted she would dare. It was a shame in some ways that it was unlikely they would marry now; if only for Isabella, who would have gained so much by being surrounded by the headstrong women of his clan.

Of course, this left him back at square one...again...

If only Agatha wasn't so damn stubborn. If she wasn't all but immune to his influence. They would be happy together, even if it wouldn't be a peaceful marriage. Dracula did not expect miracles, but he certainly would not be bored, and he would treasure her.

Readying himself for bed, included a quick shower, a rough towel dry of his hair, whilst he allowed the rest of him to air dry. He was too damn tired, to bother dressing for bed, pulling back the covers ready to flop into it. Yet despite his exhaustion after the long day and night, Dracula finally caved and reached into his bedside cabinet to retrieve one of his prize possessions.

He had kept them separate from the rest of his clothes, so as to try and maintain the scent. Still it had been two years and it had faded somewhat. He took it to bed with him, bringing the scrunched-up t-shirt to his nose and breathing in deeply. Yes...it...she was still there...lovely...Dracula could almost imagine she was here with him and he had such a deliciously vivid memory of her all dressed up, for him to work with.

Her blues eyes sparkled wickedly as he conjured her...they were out on the terrace again, the noise of the party in the background. Only this time instead of pushing him away and leaving him panting after her. Agatha leant up to kiss him.

"Agatha..." Dracula grunted, falling deeper into the fantasy, sleep creeping into the edges of his brain, gripped the balcony railing, the other reaching to rub her skin through the thin satin fabric. He wanted nothing more than to rip the dress from her, yet he felt Agatha's nails against his skin the moment he seemed to think of it.

Of all the things Agatha Van Helsing expected to find in her dreams that evening, this was not one of them.

The Count yes, considering the night they had just had, she knew they would inevitably meet in their dreams at some point, she had almost resigned herself to that...had almost been looking forward to it. She had even gone to bed as soon as she had gotten home, despite knowing that the party would probably carry on for a few more hours before winding up. Agatha knew she would end up waiting for him to fall asleep and join her.