Dracula's Daughter - Sex Stories

Dracula's Daughter

... and never grow old and never die, and love one another forever." John imagined an imploring look on the dead man's face, a warning perhaps. But of course, it was only his fevered imagination. A dead man knew nothing and could tell him nothing and mattered nothing. Only the countess mattered. He pressed his cheek to hers. "Whatever you say, Mistress." *** They were three of them in the back of the cab, Gwen, Van Helsing, and Helen. Gwen didn't wait to object: "Helen shouldn't be here. She's not strong enough." "If we're helping John then I have to be here. Or do you think you have more of a right?" The edge in her voice again. In a way Gwen was glad to hear it. It sounded something like the old Helen. But it pained her too. She looked away, briefly ashamed. Van Helsing came between them. "You both must go. It may well take both of you, and to send either of you in alone might be dangerous." "You're not coming?" Gwen said. "John doesn't know me. He would see me as an enemy." He pointed out the window to the dark, lonely flat at 32 Brussel Place. "Here, in the daylight hours, when the countess is asleep and further from his thoughts, you may be able to inveigh on him." "Isn't this a risk? He may throw us out and tell the countess everything," said Helen, her voice flat. Van Helsing winced and nodded. "I can think of no better or safer way to help him. The risk is something we will have to assume. Have faith that the love you both have for John is more powerful than her hold on ...

... him." "I knew there was something wrong with that woman as soon as I saw her," Helen said. "Do you know what it was? She looks just like the man I saw in the castle that night. The ghost. Even if Gwen has trouble believing in you, Professor Van Helsing, I do. There's nothing I won't believe anymore." Van Helsing held something out to her and she bowed her head to accept it: a crucifix, fixed to a chain. Gwen took an identical one, though she fingered it doubtfully before tucking it into her blouse. It was a grim day outside, and the sisters approached the flat without speaking to one another. The unease Gwen felt coming from Helen was awful. Since she began her recovery they'd become easy friends again, like when they were girls, but since that night in the restaurant Helen seemed moody and hostile. Maybe she resented Gwen for not telling her about John right away. Or maybe it was something else... There was no answer when Gwen knocked, nor when she knocked again. Helen rapped at the door the third time, and then a little window, barred and dark, slid aside just above the knocker. "What do you want?" "We're here to see--Baron Daronstein," Gwen said, tongue tripping over the unfamiliar name. "He's not in." "We'll wait for him," Helen said. "We're friends of his." "The baron has no friends." "It's very important," Gwen said. The little window slid shut and at first Gwen thought they were out of luck, but then they heard the click of locks being undone and, with a creak, the door ...