Dracula Dominant

Dracula Dominant (A Razor's Edge Vampire Erotica Short)
Angela Knight
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 Angela Knight

The wolves gave Anika Van Helsing a bad moment after she slipped over the fence around the mansion, exploding out at her from the trees with vicious snarls. She kept her head and took care of them with a series of precisely placed tranquilizer darts.

The guards were even easier. They came running with guns drawn, only to slide to a halt, staring at her neon pink sports bra, black leggings and pink joggers. The two looked from her curling blonde hair to her bountiful cleavage and lost thirty points from their IQ, as men usually did.

They probably would have grabbed a male, slammed him against the nearest wall and demanded what his business was, but with her, they holstered their guns and asked if she was lost. Anika smiled sweetly and shot them with her last two tranqs, savoring the shock on their faces as they fell. Going through their pockets, she found the keys and unlocked the mansion’s door.

Van Helsings had been breaking and entering the various lairs of Vlad Dracula for more than a hundred years. She’d learned how to pick locks when she was five.

An alarm began a menacing beep, but Anika hurried over and keyed in the password she’d planted when she’d hacked the security company’s system the day before. She hadn’t majored in computer science so she could get a job at Google.

Finding her way to the coffin was more difficult. The house was enormous, but unlike Dracula’s Carfax Abbey haunt, it was lovely and modern, with thick carpeting, beautiful art and antiques, and not a cobweb or Renfield to be seen. Anika found it a little unnerving. It was one thing to murder a monster in a crypt, another thing altogether to kill someone who collected Monet. Still, she had her duty.

She knew from hacking into the security system that the house had a wine cellar. Anika was willing to bet it held more than bottles of champagne. According to the schematics, the cellar door was located in the library near the fireplace -- a strange place for it. But when she walked into the room, she saw nothing but shelf after shelf of books. It must be concealed.

Anika began searching for the panel’s trigger, knowing she’d better find it fast. The tranquilizers would be wearing off soon, but if the sun set before her task was done, guards and wolves were the least of her problems. She finally discovered the trigger behind a copy of Bram Stoker’s novel. Anika wondered briefly whether Dracula had more of a sense of humor than any of her relatives had ever given him credit for.

A section of the bookcase lifted into the ceiling with a hum and the gentle rumble of hidden machinery, revealing a black square of utter darkness. Swallowing, Anika pulled the flashlight out of her backpack, flicked it on, and stepped inside. Playing the flashlight over the floor, she found a narrow stairway winding down, barely wide enough for her shoulders.

It wasn’t easy descending into that darkness, especially knowing what had happened to six generations of Van Helsings at Dracula’s hands. Over the past one hundred and twenty-four years, her great-grandfather Barend, great-uncle Devoss, Uncle Lange, and most recently, cousin Dehaan had all met their deaths trying to kill him.

Then again, they’d also managed to do a great deal of damage, slaying two of his undead wives, several henchman and four vampire mistresses, as well as burning one of his houses down around his ears.

Yet Stoker’s book notwithstanding, none of them had ever managed to touch the monster himself. She wasn’t sure whether her great-great-grandfather Abraham had lied to the Irish novelist, or whether Bram had simply been guilty of trying to give his story a happy ending.

The fact was, if any Van Helsing was going to be responsible for Count Vlad Dracula’s death, it would have to be Anika.