Good morning and Happy Hump Day! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.
Now that Andrei has seen what Dracula is capable of, will that make things awkward for the trio? See what's happening in this week's chapter of Dracula. Don't forget to visit the other Briefers and see what's up with them. Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!
When had life become so difficult? Avram wished, not for the first time, that they’d remained in Bistritz. Sure, problems arose there at times—usually of the financial variety, but nothing such as this. Only when they ventured out of the relative safety of the castle and its environs did they find themselves embroiled in conflict. Of course he understood the reason for their leaving, but that didn’t make the current circumstances any more palatable.
The storm they had so skillfully evaded, thanks to Nico, had
eventually petered out, a reluctant sun appearing at last. But it had clearly not been forgotten. Avram
could tell that Andrei was clearly shaken after having witnessed Dracula’s masterful
manipulation of the elements. He maintained a respectful distance from the
vampire, which was facilitated by the latter fortunately choosing to spend most
of his time below deck. There was no longer any reason for them to assist Andrei,
everything running smoothly now. Avram couldn’t help but notice that from time
to time the smuggler made a sign with his fingers as if to ward off evil, one
that he aimed toward Dracula, although the gesture was lost to the vampire.
Avram sighed. He hadn’t wanted to say anything about what
had happened, but common sense told him he needed to. “Andrei,” he began tentatively. The other man
was tending to the sail. He glanced toward Avram. Almost warily, it seemed to
Avram.
“Yes, Avram?”
“I would appreciate it if you would keep what happened… that
is, what you saw…. Well, between us, if you don’t mind.” He hoped his request would be enough. No need
to get Nico involved as that might not end well for anyone.
Andrei quickly crossed himself and shuddered. As though
someone had walked over his grave, to paraphrase Swift. He didn’t speak
immediately, as though considering his words.
“The old bunica,” he finally muttered. “She has said
things. I never gave them any credence before, because she’s crazy, you know,
but now…” The words hung heavily in the air between them as he turned an
accusing gaze at Avram. “You should know better than anyone, Avram. Is he what
they say he is?”
His worst fears realized, Avram braced himself for the word strigoi—or
some variation thereof—but it never came. What Andrei asked, he could never and
would never admit to. Not to anyone. He knew where his primary loyalty lay. He
returned the smuggler’s gaze without flinching. He’d gone through this before—
more than once— and knew how much their lives depended on his ability to weave
a credible yarn.
“He is my employer,” he said simply. “And he’s my guardian.
Nico took me in and raised me when I was but a small child, alone in the world,
my parents dead. He didn’t have to do that, but he did. I owe him my life. And
I know that he is a good man.” Inwardly, he cursed the old woman, wondering
what exactly she was saying about Dracula. And why. That conversation would
have to wait.
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