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River Princess	By : BloodValkyrie Category: 1 through F > Beetlejuice Views: 4287 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Beetlejuice and I don't own Bram Stoker's Dracula. I am making no profit.

Chapter List
- 44
- 45
- 46
Chapter
45

Cold

Author's
Note: Apologies for any typos, including any that occur in foreign
languages.

Snow
wasn't falling anymore, but the earth was coated in the stuff. Lydia
didn't want to open presents. The first thing she did that morning
was dress up for the cold and walk outside to admire the effect.

Everything
was so calm. Benches bore thick layers of whiteness, like too much
icing on a cookie. Lydia reached up to touch a tree branch. Some snow
fell into her gloved hand.

She
heard a door open, and then she heard Mihai call out, “Come and
open presents with us!” She waved at him, but shook her head.

After
a few minutes of walking, Lydia noticed a spot where someone had
shoveled up some snow recently, near some statues and some bushes.
That was weird. She promptly waled back inside the house and towards
the main Christmas tree. There was a mess of paper and bows
everywhere. Prudence was fairly buried in several expensive gifts,
laughing and squealing. Lydia walked by her and went to Vlad, who was
on his knees on the floor.

She
bent only slightly and literally talked down to him. “Someone
shoveled up a bunch of snow in the back.”

Prudence's
happy face succumbed to a fearful sort of sadness. Mihai shoved an
unwrapped present of hers into her hands. Happily distracted, she
tore into the present.

Vlad
looked up at her; his cool gray eyes were narrowing, but he was
smiling. In the weak morning light, Lydia thought she saw a hint of
icy blue in his irises. “Lydia,” Vlad said, “that
was Brunhilde's doing. Do not concern yourself.”

“Well
…?” A corner of Lydia's mouth quirked up in uncertainty.
“If you say I'm not to be concerned, that normally means I need
to be concerned.”

Smoothly,
almost a purr, Vlad said to her, “Femeie ridicol.”
Ridiculous woman. “Găsi acel colier, cea preferată,
și arată-l la mine, bine?” Find that necklace,
your favorite one, and show it to me, alright?

Lydia
knew what he was talking about, that ridiculously expensive expensive
he had given her a long time ago, the one with a twenty carat diamond
and several other diamonds, the one that looked almost like a
sparkling lace collar. She went upstairs to find it. She felt safer
keeping it in the mansion instead of her home with her parents. There
was better security here, and she had practically been living in the
mansion anyway.

When
she returned with the necklace in its case, Vlad opened one of
Lydia's presents. It was a lovely knee-length dress that was made
with red and green tapestry lace showing off a rose inspired design,
sleeveless and sweetheart neckline.

“Aceasta
rochie ar trebui să fie perfect pentru acea colier,” Vlad
told her. This dress should be perfect for that necklace.

“Very
nice,” Lydia admitted.

***

She
decided to wear that lovely tapestry lace dress to the dinner at the
Brewster's mansion. She didn't wear the large diamond necklace,
though. She chose a silver chain with a small fiery opal pendant.
Lydia put her hair up into a messy updo and asked Vlad for his
opinion. He kissed her and smiled. “Elegant, Sweet Lydia.”

The
dinner was fine, sort of cozy. They ate in a large dining room, but
everyone stayed on one end of the long table. The only real drawback
was the dirty looks Claire kept sending her. Claire didn't really say
much of anything, though.

“You
must have heard the rumors,” Mr. Brewster told Vlad, tapping
his finger on his glass as he held it. “Some say you're
engaged; some say you're not. Some say your girl refused because she
didn't like the ring.”

Lydia
lowered her head and focused on her meal. She felt Vlad's hand on her
thigh.

“I
have asked her to be my wife,” Vlad admitted as he squeezed her
flesh. “We decided to wait for personal reasons.” He put
emphasis on the last two words of his statement firmly, as if he
didn't want the matter to be discussed.

That
was when Claire Brewster claimed, “Come to my wedding; you
might learn a thing or two.” Then she drummed her fingers on
the table, showing off a large and beautiful white diamond engagement
ring with two side stones.

Vlad
nodded at her. “We certainly would learn much.” Then he
squeezed Lydia's thigh again, which made her squeak a little.

At
some point in the dinner, politics was brought up, but Vlad did not
want any part of the subject. He tried to change the subject, but Mr.
Brewster insisted, and so Vlad stood up and said he wanted to leave.
Lydia still had a few bites of dinner left, but she didn't complain.
On the way home, she asked why he wanted to leave.

“I
have no interest in an argument about politics in this country,”
Vlad said curtly. “There is a trend of childish bickering among
parties.”

“Are
you still mad about Claire stealing the kneaded eraser?”

“I
am,” confessed Vlad.

***

Brunhilde
was in a middle class two story home that night. Loud South Korean
pop was being played on a stereo. She was dancing in the living room,
in the darkness, her movements a little choppy. Nothing about her
dancing could be called fluid. It was almost like she was a wooden
puppet performing karate.

In
the nearby kitchen, where there was light, two vampires were using a
small electric drill on the eye of a chained up third vampire. His
screams would have made a normal person flinch.

“그들은
전쟁을 원한다면,
그들은
그것을 가져야한다!”
Brunhilde shouted over the music. Geudeureun jeonjaengeul
wonhandamyeon, geudeureun geugeoseul gajyeoyahanda! If they want
war, they shall have it!

She
danced out of the living room and into the kitchen. She took the
drill from the two assailants and dug it in deeper. She laughed at
the wails, and then she kicked the victim into a wall, which crumbled
a teeny bit. Then she took one of the other vampire's fingers, which
was offered without question, and licked blood off of it.

Then
she heard the victim murmur, “Damn it, Mihai.”

Brunhilde's
nostrils flared. Her eyes blinked, and they turned red and wild. Her
hands went to the victim's abdomen, her nails piercing his muscles.
He howled and cried, and she demanded that he speak more about Mihai.

The
victim's head moved up, with the drill stuck in his eye socket. He
stuck out his tongue very far and bit it. Then, most of the tongue
fell onto Brunhilde's arm, where it slipped and landed onto the
floor.

He
wasn't gonna give up any more information … no matter how much
pain she put him in. Even if she ripped off his fingernails …
he wouldn't talk … it was almost like he wanted her to hear
him say Mihai's name just so he could tease her.

Damn
it.

Brunhilde
grabbed the victim by his head and literally shoved it into the wall,
which crumbled even more.

“Kill
him,” she said to the others.

It
was easy for her to figure out who would talk under pressure and who
wouldn't.

***
- 44
- 45
- 46
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River Princess