As he went out of the building he noticed that the rain stopped. Outside, near that neat building, there were some police officers busy with evidence loading into their carriages.
He walked away from those officers and looked around as if he searched for someone. He couldn’t see anyone, but he heard a voice:
“Here I am, my count ...”
Vlad Dragoesti turned his head and even behind him, he saw the person he looked for and who popped up out of the blue. His face was covered, probably to protect it against the cold. But he still seeme to have something to hide.
“Come on! We are leaving,” said Mr. Vlad as he made a sign with the staff to the carriage in which he came.
The carriage moved closer. The two got in and sat on the bench in the posh carriage, drawn by two horses that were equally high-class and stunning.
The man with covered face asked:
“Master, how about the child? He might mess with us at some point and ...”
“It’s a girl”, Vlad Dragoesti replied crossly.
“So ... that won't be a problem. Or...?”
“A minor problem ... insignificant compared to the problem represented by her parents”, smiled Vlad Dragoesti.
The covered-face guy got comfortable on the bench where even a king would be proud to sit. Moving, the scarf that covered his face slid a little and one could see from the blurred light of the lantern hanging by the carriage that he had extremely white face, with a skin that never saw the sunlight. It seemed to be ... the face in Gangsley Taylor’ vision. Or ... maybe it wasn’t a vision.
The skin seemed to be extremely delicate, like that of a newborn. Without any wrinkle, without any trace of a possible malady, without being affected by the passage of time.
He spoke in a slightly hoarse voice, the voice of a man who went through a lot in his life, a man with life experience. The bottom lip, because it was the only visible under the scarf, was as red as blood.
“Take us back where you took us from”, Vlad Dragoesti ordered the coachman.
And the carriage rushed away.
“Why have you come?” Dragoesti said with a cold glance.
“I don't know ... probably because you may have problems”, said the cover-faced guy. “There were so many law enforcement officers there ...”
“It’s a piece of cake with the officers ... moreover, some of them are as dark as we are.”
The stranger shrugged his shoulders.
“I don't know ... I felt you were in danger.”
The Count glanced outside through a small opening at the window, where the curtains were set aside.
“Of course it makes sense that you’re here. Probably Edward’s death ... His absence is a great loss to the other side. But, I don't know ... I felt a much greater pressure on me now. Much bigger than I did when our dark guys died.”
“Maybe because of the child?” the secretive guy raised his eyebrows.
“That's what I thought too. Yet, it’s a girl. There must be something else ...”
He looked again out of window. He was very calm, but inside everything was about to erupt, to explode with the power of a cataclysm.
“Anyway ... that story says that ‘he will bring us a gift ... that will bring the end of the dark age ...’”
“These are just assumptions. I think it will never happen. That era ... maybe it already started. Still, it can't be because of this little girl. The killing of Edwards was painful for our group as well. Scar, Screamer, Shrew and Skeleton are gone. They were killed without too much trouble, although they were leaders in our group. That's why I felt that pressure for sure. I can say we were lucky... for we managed to kill them.”
“Yes ... huge losses for our cause. Almost as big as the Edwards’ for them. There is still ... Knudlac. Surely he and his ‘little’ wizards can cause us problems.”
“You have no idea ... especially him.”
The cover-faced guy looked out, in that darkness, as if he could see in that thick blackness, ocean-bottom like.
“I have to get off, master. I'm going to have ... dinner,” the hidden guy smiled.
He stuck his head out of the carriage window.
“Stop the carriage!” he said to the coachman.
Dragoesti smiled.
“Here… ?” the coachman asked, puzzled, as they were on a dark path in the forest. Only the round disk of the moon kept shining here in the shade of that frightening forest. And the dim light of the lantern hanging on the ravishing carriage.
“Yes”, Dragoesti ordered too. “He has to ... eat ...”
The coachman was very anxious that he had to leave someone on that path of perdition. But ... he was scared of both the cover-faced foreigner and the famous and cruel Vlad Dragoesti.
So he did exactly as he was ordered.
The stranger got off the carriage and moved away on that unknown path. Finally, just before he was gone, he glanced back at the frightened coachman. Two glassy eyes like two stars in the sky, which seemed come down into that forest, targeted the coachman ... along with a bloodcurdling grin.
With a lump in his throat, because he heard so many strange, mysterious things about the castle and the lands of Dragoesti residence, his heart cracking with panic because of those eyes that watched him, the coachman whipped the horses to start off rushing without waiting for Count Dragoesti's order.
He was severely shaken when the carriage started, but instead of being upset, he smiled. He knew something ... scared the poor coachman. And this enjoyed him a lot, because others’ fear ... was food for guys like him.
...
In front of the house at number 3 Moon Street, one could see Officer Gangsley carrying a small girl and a little bag in his arms. Apparently her stuff was in that bag that was not roomy at all.
The little girl was holding a diary ... A diary that Officer Gangsley decided to give to her, because it once belonged to her parents. He considered the diary a gift from those who gave life to the girl, an object that only she, alone in this world, had the right to keep. Because it was written on it in golden letters:
“... a small gift, for our most precious gift, Elizabeth Catherine Edwards.”
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