Where There is Darkness

Part VI

Carl held the pipette in one hand, the test tube in the other and gently dropped the cure he had developed into the sample of Van Helsing's werewolf blood. Under the microscope, the sample changed. He couldn't determine how, but he knew it changed. He knew the strange aspect Mark had found had mutated, but didn't disappear entirely.

It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do. He had no other option. There were only three weeks left to locate Van Helsing and inject him with this cure. The next full moon was the last chance. The need to locate Van Helsing had suddenly grown far more pressing.

The mystery from Velkan's vague clues regarding the Valerious family was important as well, but finding Van Helsing was more important. At least for the next few weeks. Once he had located and rescued his friend, he could devote more time to other projects. Until then, Van Helsing had to be his focus.

As Carl was preparing his solutions and putting his supplies away, Mark came into the lab. He didn't look happy. Mark was always happy.

"Carl, The Order is dispatching operatives to locate Van Helsing," Mark informed him with a shake of his head.

Angrily, Carl slammed a wooden box onto the table. "Dammit! They were supposed to let me find him!"

Mark pressed his hands against Carl's shoulders. "Carl, the operatives are already gone."

"What?" Carl was fuming, steam nearly coming out of his ears. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just found out. I came here as soon as I knew." He held firm on Carl's shoulders, trying to prevent the man from tearing apart his lab in a rage. "They made sure no one knew."

Carl broke free and began to gather things into a bag. "We have to go. I have to go. I have to find him first."

"You don't even know where he is. Let them find him."

"I can't.''

"Why not?"

"They'll kill him!" Carl shouted and stuffed the antidote into the bag. "I can't let that happen," he snarled, then climbed the stairs out of the lab.

Those first five lashes had almost been more than he could bear. That was some of the worst pain he had ever experienced. Worse than that, he knew there would be more. He had asked for five assuming Dracula wouldn't go beyond ten. He took a deep breath and sent up a silent prayer that ten would be the maximum.

"Are you ready for the rest of your punishment, Gabriel?" Dracula asked him.

He nodded. He was not ready, but he had no desire to delay the inevitable. He wanted this torture to be over quickly.

The next stroke landed across his ass and burned like fire. He could feel the red welt rising on his skin. Another stroke across his back, then two more on his shoulders cut into his skin like knives laid in hot coals. He couldn't prevent the howls of agony from escaping his throat. The pain was too much

"'Do you think that's enough, Gabriel?" Dracula asked him and he was certain the vampire's implication was that he would very much like to continue lashing him with the wooden cane.

"Yes," he gasped. He wasn't sure he could tolerate any more pain.

Thankfully, Dracula seemed to agree and tossed the cane away. But, he was back moments later, kneeling on the bed between his legs, smearing the blood from the wounds across across his skin. Dracula's touch was cold, almost soothing, compared to the salt sting from Carl he'd felt in the past. He wanted to shrink away from it, did not want to take any form of comfort from this brutal enemy.

"My, my, Gabriel, what handsome stripes you now wear," Dracula cooed in that eerie tone of his. "What shall I do with you next?" he asked rhetorically.

Van Helsing wanted to answer 'Let me sleep,' but knew that would earn him nothing of the kind. Therefore, he remained silent and motionless. His body was far too tired to move even if he'd wanted to. All he could hope was for it all to be over quickly

Knowing Dracula, 'over quickly' was about as likely as 'immediate rescue'.

He howled in surprise and pain when he felt the hard, cold slap of a hand against his backside. Tears sprang to his eyes, the pain was so sudden and jarring. He was close to begging for mercy. Close. His pride and stubborn will prevented him from taking that final step. He needed to hold on to that last bit of self control.

Once he had enough of his self back to think again, he set his mind to prayer. It took a strong effort of will to maintain his prayer as prayer and not as a desperate plea. He needed the comfort of knowing someone was watching over him and let Carl's insistence that God always was, help him survive the madness of his incarceration.

Carl didn't wait for permission to leave for the Carpathians. He just left with his baggage, the cure he had created and all of the research on the Valerious family. His trip was fine until he was accosted on the ship. A burly man, full of stocky muscle, demanded Carl hand over his belongings. All of them.

Flat out, Carl refused. The man demanded again and Carl was forced to explain the physics of being kicked in the balls in such a way that would prevent the man from trying again.

Apparently the man just didn't have the capability to learn. But moments before Carl felt he would need to demonstrate his skills, the attempted brawl was interrupted. Carl was going to thank the newcomer who had prevented the need for him to kick the burly man, but when he recognized the newcomer as one of the operatives of The Order, he was far less certain of his gratitude.

"Well, Carl," the man began, almost jovial in his heavy Spanish-accented Italian, "what brings you on board a ship bound for Romania?" he asked with a tone that he had been informed of Carl's departure and knew more than he was claiming.

Carl searched his brain for the man's name, but came up empty. "I'm on a research mission," he lied. Fibbed really, since he was doing research only, not officially.

"Research?" the man scoffed as though it were a bad taste. ''What could you possibly need to research in the Carpathians?"

Carl wanted to retort with a witty insult, but managed to refrain at the last minute. "Family history of the Valerious lineage," he replied as a way to keep up his façade without launching into full-on lies.

Hidalgo - that was his name - grabbed Carl by his collar and dragged him toward the meager cabins. "You can do your research just as well from here as you can from the deck," he snarled. Obviously, the man had already decided he did not approve of Carl's presence on the ship.

Carl's hackles rose. He hated being ordered around and hated being handled even more. "Let go of me. I will go where I like."

"No, you won't." Hidalgo towered over Carl. "You will stay where I tell you or risk more than your pride."

Carl growled at being threatened. "So you would leave me to the mongrels?"

"If you don't do as you're told, yes."

As loathe as he was to comply with threats from those who thought themselves better than him, he hated the idea of being subjected to whatever some of the men on the ship had in mind. It was times like these that he really missed Van Helsing.

"Mesoraco!" one of the other Operatives called, running through the castle. "There's a corner missing from the map upstairs."

Anna was confused and surprised by this news. How had they known about the map? And who had removed the corner? She hadn't, but she couldn't recall if Carl had taken it when he left or not - either time.

Mesoraco seemed pleased by this development. He turned to Anna and asked, "Where is the missing piece?'

"I don't know," she answered forcefully.

"Princess, you are severely trying my patience with your resistance. We have a mission. We will find a passage to Dracula's castle with or without your help."

Anna was beginning to think this man from The Order was convinced he was intimidating her into doing what he wanted. "Then you'll have to do it without my help, because I only know one way there and without that piece of the map, the doorway's un-open-able." That was more information than he deserved, but she needed him out of her way so she could try to figure something out on her own.

"You had better pray that either that piece reappears or that we find another way," Mesoraco snarled at her. He turned to the man who'd brought the bad news. "Scour the castle. Find one or the other."

The other operative nodded in acknowledgment. A moment later, he was gone.

"What are you going to do when you find him? Dracula or Van Helsing? Do you even know how to kill Dracula?" Anna snapped. She crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at Mesoraco.

He was not at all pleased with her questioning him about his mission. "We don't need to kill Dracula. We only need to return Van Helsing to Rome."

Anna knew better. There was no way they could get Van Helsing back without killing Dracula. "You'll fail," she informed him. "Dracula is more powerful and resourceful than you can imagine. If you think he'll just let you take Van Helsing without a fight, I suggest you develop a new plan."

"I assume you know how to kill Dracula?"

"I have the theory that was proposed to Van Helsing. I know nothing of it's validity, given that Dracula is still alive."

Mesoraco arched an eyebrow at her. "And what was this theory?"

Anna sighed. "That only a werewolf can kill Dracula."

"That's nonsense," he snorted, turned on his heel and started away.

"Good luck finding a better solution," she told him.

Dracula finished with his 'punishment' then strung Van Helsing up outside his chambers again. The difference this time was that he was facing the wall. That was great comfort to the new wounds on his back, but much less comfort to his sensitive groin. He was starting to miss his dank cell.

What he wanted was for Dracula to leave him alone for a night. Just one. He was exhausted from the constant transformations during the full moon, the assignments Dracula had sent him on and Dracula torturing him. He needed time to recuperate. To rest.

He also needed food. He needed to find a way to convince Dracula to feed him. Something that didn't require him to kill anyone. Because no matter how starved he was, that was the one satisfaction he would not give his captor.

The major disadvantage to this position of facing the wall was that he couldn't see anyone or anything that came down the corridor. That he found highly disconcerting. Especially when the Dwergi would shuffle by with their implements and those would brush against the wounds on his back causing immense amounts of pain.

He was starting to believe that Dracula enjoyed the sound of his screams. Van Helsing would have preferred not to be subjected to such tortures, but he couldn't give Dracula that satisfaction. However, he was starting to get the feeling there was something else Dracula was interested in. Something he wanted him to remember.

What do you want from me? he muttered against the wall.

"Only what is mine, Gabriel," a voice responded to him. Followed shortly by. "Yes, Gabriel, I can hear your thoughts. I know you want me to let you go. And you know I can't do that. I need you here."

"Why?" he rasped. He truly did not understand Dracula's rationale for holding him prisoner.

Dracula exhaled a long-suffering sigh and shook his head. "Oh, Gabriel. Why does it always take you so long?"

"So long for what?" he rasped, his dry throat greatly in need of water.

"For you..." Dracula trailed off and turned away.

Van Helsing growled and rattled his chains in an attempt to pull himself loose. "What is it that takes so long?" he snarled.

Dracula was behind him, quick as lightning. Long, bony fingers curled around his hips, cold as ice and the feel of Dracula's cloak roughed against the damaged skin of his back. Had he been able to draw air to breathe, he would have howled in pain. Once he regained his senses, he felt the burgeoning erection pressed against his backside. There was a distinct, sharp inhale of the skin of his neck. The vampire was right there.

"Gabriel," Dracula hissed in his ear and ground his hips against Van Helsing's ass. Dracula released a soft groan. Mere moments later, those long fingers on his hips curled around the length of his cock and began to stroke. Slowly.

Van Helsing still hated the fact that his body had a positive, give-me-more reaction to Dracula's ministrations, while his mind was focused on how repulsive it was to be aroused by an enemy. He couldn't even get his mind to focus on something beyond his immediate experience, given how tired he was.

His cock hardened under the smooth manipulation of Dracula's hand. The hand that held him just the way he liked; stroked him in ways he never knew he liked - so how did Dracula know? Where did that information come from? He moaned and dropped his head back, felt it land against Dracula's shoulder and wanted to scream at his body for betraying him. Dracula stroked him expertly and kept grinding his own erection against Van Helsing's ass. That excited him more. His hips started rocking against Dracula's hand, the pain in his back suddenly a distant throb.

"Ah, yes!" Dracula rumbled, hot breath in his ear. "Yes, Gabriel. More!"

The stroking motions didn't change, but Dracula kept feeding him encouraging words, wanting more hip thrusting and grinding from him. Van Helsing wanted to do everything but; however, he could not convince his body to follow his mental commands. He curled his fingers around the cold chains that held the manacles around his wrists and felt his hips moving harder and faster with the added leverage.

"Yes, sweet, Gabriel, give me what I want from you," Dracula croaked as he slid his free hand to smooth over Van Helsing's chest.

He resisted as long as he could, but the end was inevitable. His come spilled over Dracula's hand. Dracula caught it and coated Van Helsing's cock with it as a lubricant to continue stroking him through the end. Van Helsing nearly passed out from the sensations. Arms limp, his body sagged against the wall, wrists pinched in the manacles from supporting his weight.

Dracula casually drew his tongue across the newly reopened wounds on Van Helsing's back. "Mmm, delicious, Gabriel."

Van Helsing shivered as violently as his weary body would let him and tried to contain the howl of pain as the feeling rushed to the nerve endings in his back. Dracula had tasted his blood. A new fear entered his mind - that Dracula, having gotten a taste for his blood, would want more. He couldn't let that happen.

Hidalgo knocked at Carl's door to let him know they would be docking soon and he should come on deck once he had collected his belongings. Carl knew he had some time and finished sifting through the book he'd had in front of him for the last few hours.

Carl gathered his items and climbed up to the deck. The water was deep blue and rough from winds. A storm was coming in from the east. It tossed the ship about as it made its way to port.

He curled his fingers tightly around the railing to keep himself steady. Despite feeling that he was turning green, he held tight to his bag of books and research materials. That was far more important than his lunch.

A heavy hand clapped him on the shoulder. For a brief moment, he thought it was Van Helsing coming to rescue him, but the voice he heard didn't match. "Are you all right, Carl?"

"Fine, Hidalgo, thank you," he replied moments before hurling his dinner over the side of the ship the hard way.

Hidalgo chuckled and shook his head. Carl tried not to roll his eyes as he righted himself and stumbled down to the dingy that would take them ashore.

He sighed contentedly when he set foot on dry land. He needed to find Van Helsing and get him home soon. All of this trekking around the world and burying himself in books, while not entirely unpleasant, was starting to wear on his nerves. He needed to find the last pieces of the puzzle, solve all of this and take Van Helsing back home.

End Part VI

Part VII