''Come closer and I will scream!'' His prey whimpered.
''Scream. I dare you.'' He growled.
Twenty-three-year-old Ilona Bukowski has always been fascinated by the supernatural, even when she shouldn't. This fascination takes her to Romania, where she...
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Ilona was glad that the servants were thoughtful to put some of her own clothes out for her. However, she would have been even more glad if they decided to give back her luggage. Not that she did not like the fact that they had unpacked her toiletries, it had more to do with their fashion sense. Or more precisely, lack of. On the chair in the corner lay a red, ankle-length plaited skirt with a small leather belt, together with a warm green sweater. Who did they think she was, Mother Christmas? Her worn down Dr. Martens stood somewhere underneath the chair. Ilona figured she should count herself lucky that she was able to wear her own clothes still, because with Vlad's stubbornness they could have forced her into medieval wear. Once dressed, Ilona caught a glimpse of herself in the still broken mirror, and her breath left her lungs for a second. While the shower had done her hair and skin good, her cheeks were still hallowed, her eyes were rimmed red, and her mouth looked like it had permanently lost its ability to smile. In short: she looked like Hell. Tearing her gaze from the haunting image in front of her, Ilona ripped open the door and found Vlad patiently waiting.
''I am ready.''
Vlad gave her a once over, as if trying to make sure she really had not managed to injure herself even more, ''I can see that. Ready?'' He offered her his arm, and Ilona could not believe her eyes.
''You threw me in the dungeons for three days, and now you want to behave like a gentleman?'' She stared indignantly at the vampire. He truly was mental. Vlad, for his part, seemed to look slightly uncomfortable.
''It was for your own safety.''
Ilona could hardly believe her ears. Her own safety? The only dangerous thing in this whole castle was the creature she was currently, apparently, bickering with. Her thought must have been transparent, since Vlad sighed.
''One day, you might understand. Just know that it was the best option. Especially after what happened.''
''You mean after I stabbed you?''
''Yes, and rather badly might I add.'' While Vlad's voice oozed annoyance, his blue eyes held her own with an, almost uncomfortable, intensity, and when he slowly leaned in, Ilona thought her heart might come bursting out of her chest. She could feel Vlad's warm breath on her cheek when he whispered, ''not that it would have done much damage, since you cannot stab what one does not possess.''
It seems the offer ofwalking on his arm had been subtracted, since he turned around and marched downthe hallway. It took Ilona a few more seconds to gather herself, before shewalked after him.
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