Dracul (12 page)

“What has he told you about making gold?” Felix asks when I get to the part about the verb forms.

“Just that it’s not made or created, it’s, I don’t know, crystallized or isolated or something. I honestly don’t understand the difference, but Constantine made a big deal out of the verb forms and why they’re weird, or something.”

Felix has finished eating by now and is sucking the marrow out of a T-bone, using one sharp tip to pick his teeth while he frowns thoughtfully. “Transmuted?” he offers.

I shrug. “Congealed?”

“Makes it sound like old blood.”

“Maybe it is. What is gold, anyway? And why is it so valuable? Because it’s rare?”

“I’ve done a lot of reading on the subject since my adventures.” Felix spins one ring absently on his pinkie. “Do you know, if all the mined gold on earth—that is, all the gold that has ever been in human hands—if all the gold were to be collected together, it would fill two or three—guess.”

“Guess? It would fill two Versailles palaces?”

Felix shakes his head.

“Two of Mount Everest?”

“Smaller.”

“Two of Pikes peak?”

“Smaller.”

“All the gold in the whole world?”

Felix leans forward. He’s done letting me guess. “Two or three Olympic-sized swimming pools.”

“That’s not very much.”

“I know.”

“So, it’s valuable because it’s rare? And pretty? And doesn’t tarnish, or whatever?”

“I think it’s more than that.”

“An emotional thing? Symbolism? Gold represents purity and value and…rareness?”

Felix pulls off the ring he was playing with and sets it on the table. “Remember last summer, the magnetized shackles?”

“Yes.” I cringe at the thought of them. If dragons are put in magnetized shackles, they can’t take on dragon form. Something in the magnets physically—or perhaps, molecularly—prevents them from embodying their dragon shape.

Felix explains, “I was talking to Dad and Grandpa Elmir about Grandma Faye. Ever since I learned that magnetized shackles can be used to force a dragon to take human form, I was confused, because we were always told that when Eudora captured Grandma Faye, she was trying to turn her into a human.”

I haven’t thought about that story in a long time, but suddenly, Felix’s point is obvious. I realize aloud, “All Eudora would have had to do, was use magnetic shackles on Grandma, and she’d take on human form. Eudora could have stuck her with her serum easily, then, because she wouldn’t have had armored scales.”

“Precisely. Dad and Grandpa and I have talked about this. Keep in mind, we don’t know what Eudora knew, we don’t know what Grandma knew—there are a lot of things about dragon history that have been lost with the keeping of secrets and the untimely deaths of those who knew those secrets.”

“You think Grandma Faye had a way of keeping the magnetized shackles from turning her human?”

Felix nods. “Grandpa recalls specifically that Grandma Faye was wearing gold cuffs on her wrists and ankles when he rescued her.”

“Gold bracelets?”

“Cuffs. Like you see in pictures of Egyptian Pharaohs, or super heroes, or whatever. Wide gold cuffs. Ever wonder why they wore them?”

“You think maybe the Pharaohs were dragons?” I may be starting to pick up on what he’s saying. Many rulers in ancient times were dragons.

“Or trying to dress like dragons to make themselves seem more powerful.” Felix shrugs. “Either way, I think the gold cuffs served a purpose.”

“To deflect the power of magnetized shackles?”

Felix places his ring on his fingertip and studies it in the sunlight that’s still pouring through the windows. “It came from a dragon. Could it help a dragon remain a dragon, even under circumstances that would otherwise force a dragon to lose her form?”

“Could it?” I repeat the question.

Felix smiles. “We tested it out with the shackles we had at home. It worked. Gold cuffs blocked the power of the shackles, allowing us to remain dragons even when shackled.”

“But, in the pictures you see of Pharaohs—they’re human. If the cuffs are there to enable them to retain their dragon form, why wear them in human form?”

“Gold is highly malleable.” Felix shoves the ring onto his finger and changes his hand into a dragon hand, which stretches the ring. Then he tips his hand, and the ring, larger now, slides to the curved tip of his talon.

With a precision that hints he’s practiced this move before, Felix breathes a slender flame directed at the band, which he spins on the tip of his talon until it is perfectly smooth again. Before it cools completely, he changes his hand back into a human hand, and the ring falls into place.

“Congealed,” I repeat, my breath catching in my throat. “Distilled essence of dragon. Concentrated
dracul
. It’s not just valuable because it’s rare.”

“It’s valuable because it has power. The power of a dragon.”

Chapter Twelve

It’s exhilarating to think that my brother made something so powerful—that the rings on his fingers could actually form a defense against any enemy that might seek to enslave us.

But more than that, it’s terrifying.

The vampires are after gold, or more precisely, the secrets of how to make gold. They’ve been hunting down information for centuries with the kind of dogged determination that says they understand the importance of what they’re looking for.

They know gold is powerful. They probably know more about it than we do.

We can’t let them have any more advantages over us. Most certainly, they can’t learn what my brother has done.

“You still don’t know how you did it?” I clarify as everything else sinks in.

“Made this stuff?” Felix spins the re-formed ring on his finger. “I can tell you exactly what happened. I’ve even tried to recreate the circumstances, but I’ve never achieved the same result. It was almost like a freak accident.”

“Except accidents usually
break
things, not
make
things.” I gather our plates and return them to the kitchen. “Either way, the only thing that matters is keeping the vampires from finding out about you.”

“What do you propose I do? Run and hide?”

“Hide where?” I stick the plates in the sink. “You can’t hide with any of our family members, or you risk drawing the vampires to them. If you go hide anywhere alone, none of us will know if anything happens to you. If they catch up to you, and you’re alone...” I shoot the dishes with the sink sprayer. Water blasts against them, splattering red meat juices in a circle around the sink.

Not pretty.

Felix frowns. “I don’t like the idea of you facing them alone, either.”

“We’ve got to stick together, then. I hate that I’ve dragged you into this.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Felix is grinning.

“There is nothing good about this. Nothing.” I fill the sink with soapy water and start hand-washing.

“Isn’t there? Why are you so glad to learn about the history of Vlad Dracula?”

His change of subject seems to have come out of nowhere. “Because I want to know why he was called the son of a dragon.”

“It’s the same with me.” Felix pulls a dish towel from a drawer and dries the clean plates. “I want to know about this gold I made. Now maybe being chased by vampires isn’t the most pleasant way to learn something new, but if these guys really are after information, if they really do know things we don’t know—”

“You want to find out what they know before they learn your secrets? Beat them at their own game?”

“It’s better than sitting around at home while Mom frets about her grandbabies.”

“It’s also dangerous,” I remind him. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Me?” Felix gives me his biggest, most innocent grin—the one he often sports right before diving off into trouble. Then he snaps the dish towel playfully. “Now tell me—why was Vlad Dracula called the son of a dragon?”

“His father, Vlad Dracul, was inducted into the Order of the Dragon. It was an ultra-selective secret society for princes, nearly all of whom ruled far bigger and wealthier kingdoms than Vlad’s. He was proud of being included in the group. That’s why he made it part of his name.” We’ve finished washing the dishes, so I lead Felix back into the dining room and spread out my notes again, looking for the parts about the Order.

“Does any of your research address the fact that dragons are real?”

“No. Everything I’ve read talks about it as though it’s simply a symbolic title.”

“So we have no way of knowing which of the princes in the order were actually dragons?”

I pinch my lips together and shake my head. Felix has hit upon the question that burns hottest inside me, the one I can’t seem to answer no matter how hard I try—the one I haven’t been able to voice aloud to anyone since I’ve been living alone.

Felix crosses his arms. “Do you think they were all dragons? We know many rulers throughout the world were dragons, from ancient times well into the Middle Ages. Their true identities were often hidden, the facts were passed off as myths, but
we
know dragons are real. And if they were real, doesn’t it make sense that these rulers in the Order of the Dragon—”

“Yes!” I throw my hands into the air in exasperation. “It makes sense—either that all or some of the men in the order really were dragons. But I don’t know which ones. I can’t find any proof or even solid clues.”

“What about Constantine? Didn’t you say he wrote Vlad Dracula’s biography? If he was alive back then, can’t you just ask him?”

“I want to. So much. But Felix, how can I ask him that? No rational person actually thinks dragons are real.”

“You believed him when he told you he was a vampire.”

“Not at first. He showed me his fangs, he disappeared—”

“He can teleport?”

“Yeah.” I must have left out some of the details—it was an abridged version I shared with Felix.

“Can he turn into a bat?”

“I’ve never seen him do it, but I’m assuming so. That seems to be a thing with the vampire crowd.”

Felix slumps into one of the dining room chairs and stares at my papers as I lay them out across the table again. “They tried to kill him?”

“Nearly succeeded.”

“They might succeed the next time. We can’t risk losing what he knows. We have to ask.”

“Asking assumes we believe dragons are real. What do we tell him when he asks why we would think that?”

“
I’ll
ask, okay? You can still be the rational one who takes all this research seriously, and I’ll be the crazy little brother who thinks maybe dragons are real.”

Even though the thought of having that conversation terrifies me, my curiosity is stronger than my fear. And Felix is right—we may not have time to wait around for answers. We have to ask directly. “Okay.”

“Call him. Ask him to come over.”

“He can’t come out until the sun is down. That whole vampire thing.”

“So he’s sleeping in a coffin right now?”

“I don’t know where he sleeps. Some of the aspects of vampire lore don’t seem to be applicable. I’m pretty sure there was garlic on the rotisserie chickens he brought over the other night, but it didn’t seem to faze him. The coffin thing seems like an elaboration. But I do know he can’t come out in sunlight.”

“I’d like to get to the bottom of some of those mysteries, too—figure out just what a vampire is and isn’t.” Felix glances at the clock. “We’ve got a few more hours then.
I want a nap.”

*

To my relief, when I call Constantine around sundown, he not only answers his phone, but eagerly agrees to come over and promptly appears in my living room.

That’s the only thing I’m relieved about, though. Felix woke up from his nap with a questioning strategy, which he outlined to me over more steak (yes, I went back to the grocery store while he napped). He’s going to take the brother-concerned-about-his-sister-spending-time-with-a-vampire approach. While it’s likely to get him answers, it could also lead to some serious conflict with Constantine.

Granted, Constantine has only ever been a gentleman around me. But judging from what I know of his encounters with the other vampires, well…let’s just say I don’t want him to come to blows with my brother.

And from the first look the two exchange with one another, blows seem likely.

I hurry to make introductions while the two of them are staring at one another across the coffee table, standing stiffly with their hands itching at their sides like two desperadoes about to engage in a duel.

“Constantine, this is my brother, Felix. He’s here because he’s concerned about my safety—I explained to him about the vampires. He knows what you are.”

Felix smiles, but it’s not a friendly smile. “I have some questions.”

“I will do my best to answer.” Constantine’s smile is almost friendly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“What, exactly, is a vampire?”

Constantine’s smile stretches to that smirk I’ve grown to know so well. “A vampire is a biologically immortal creature, which typically inhabits a human form, but whose physical limitations are not the same as those of humans.”

“Do you drink blood?” Felix seems to have his next question ready before he’s even finished hearing the answer to the first.

“Personally, no, but some vampires do.”

“What kinds of physical limitations do you not share with humans?”

Constantine’s smile is fading. “I am honored to make your acquaintance, Felix, but I don’t understand the nature of this interrogation.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with my sister. I need to make sure she’s safe.”

“Perhaps she has not told you all about our interactions thus far. It is because of my intervention that she has been safe. Your sister’s…research…drew the unfortunate attention of certain unsavory vampires.”

“Do those vampires drink blood?” Felix isn’t backing down.

Constantine sighs.

“Are those vampires going to try to drink my sister’s blood?” Felix takes a step closer to Constantine. “Or have they already?”

“Felix.” I take my brother’s arm. Much as I appreciate his ability to convincingly play the brother-concerned-about-his-sister-spending-time-with-a-vampire role, I’m not so sure it’s an act.

He doesn’t pull away from me, but he also doesn’t tone down his questions. “How old are you?”

“I was born in 1428.”

This is new information. I make a mental note of it.

Felix keeps peppering Constantine with questions. “Do you sleep in a coffin?”

“Not usually.”

“Can you turn into a bat?”

“I cannot.”

“But other vampires—”

“Others can.” Constantine’s amused smirk turns grim. “Please, Felix, I understand you are concerned. Truly, I do appreciate that you have not come at me with a pitchfork or a stake, as others have in the past. But I think it would be best if we sat down and talked like civilized human beings.”

“Are you a civilized human being?” Felix shoots back.

“No. Yet I often find I behave in a manner more civilized than many humans.” Constantine crosses the room to my white board, grabs an eraser, and lifts an eyebrow, asking me without speaking any words for my permission to wipe the board clean.

“It’s fine. Those were just preliminary outlines.”

“To my knowledge, there are four basic types of vampires,” Constantine explains as he wipes down the board and makes four columns. “The weakest of these are those who were born biologically human, but were bitten by a vampire and so acquire certain characteristics of the undead. They are not inherently biologically immortal, but can continue in an undead state indefinitely by drinking blood.”

“Can they turn into bats?” Felix asks.

“Yes, and they often do—since they no longer feel entirely comfortable in the human world, and since they are able to hibernate in bat form, some prefer to live as bats, not humans.” Constantine marks that column
bitten,
before moving on to the next.

“The second type of vampire is made up of those who are born vampires due to unions between humans and vampires. Technically, there are sub-variations of this type, depending on the type of the vampire parent. They, too, must drink blood to exercise their biological immortality. Like their bitten counterparts, they often hibernate in bat form.”

He writes
born of human and vampire
in the second column.

“The third kind of vampire, which is more of a true vampire than the previous two, is the vampire born of two vampire parents, at least one of whom belongs to the third or fourth type. Such vampires are biologically immortal and do not need to drink blood to live indefinitely.”

I’ve heard him use this phrase enough, I need to know for sure what he means. “When you say
biologically immortal
, you mean they won’t die unless…”

“Unless they are killed, correct. Biologically immortal creatures do not age beyond maturity. In the case of vampires, they are impervious to most disease and, indeed, even gross injuries such as those that would kill a normal human. It has been said the only way to kill a vampire is to drive a stake through his heart or decapitate him, though I have not personally performed enough research in this area to be guaranteed of its truth.”

As he talks, I’m silently comparing vampire immortality to dragon immortality. We’re pretty much the same. We don’t age beyond maturity, and we’re difficult to kill—when we’re in dragon form, we’re impenetrable except by dragon fang, talon, or horn.

Felix is scowling impatiently beside me. “And the fourth kind?”

“In a moment, please.” Constantine writes
born of two vampires
in the third column. “What you must understand, is that, of these three types, the first two are by far the most common. Even when I speak of this third type, there are still subcategories. The parents provide genes according to their vampire type. Their offspring will retain characteristics of both the stronger and the weaker parent.”