Lord of the Vampires (16 page)

I cant, Elisabeth. II have no heart for this.

I dont care if you fuck him or not, dearest. But bite him! For me, please!

I have no appetite

You neednt drink! Just bite himdont kill him and let the blood run down upon my face

With a sigh I obeyed, moving behind her impalers sweat-streaming back and bending down to strike the front of his shoulder. At this, he stiffened and emitted a strangled cry of terror and ecstatic release.

Sweet blood, but I was too grief-stricken, too troubled, too bored with life in this castle, to savour it. I withdrew, unhappily pleased to deny myself, unhappily pleased to suffer at the hands of hunger; and I sat back on my haunches and watched as Elisabeth licked the gypsys small, streaming wound and rubbed her cheeks against it as a cat rubs its face against its mistress legs.

You are mine, Elisabeth whispered into his ear. You shall obey Vlads orders so long as they do not harm us, but you are mine. And so, after you have taken the prince from this castle, you shall return for usand you will secretly tell your closest friend, and make him swear that if you should mysteriously die, he must come and rescue us poor, helpless women. All within a day

Within a day. And now that the time is almost here, I think,
Will they really come
?

But there were further signs to convince me that Vlad would indeed be soon gone. For within a matter of days, he had stolen all of Harkers papers and clothesthis we learned when we paid our customary morning visit to the guest chambers. These forays have become most enlightening now that Harker carefully transcribes the bizarre scribblings of his diary into English on separate parchment. He has written the entire journal out for us, and I know it will serve us well in England, for it is laden with the consummate details befitting a lawyers diary.

He shall be our spy in London, Elisabeth told me that day, and before Vlad rises, I shall do a private ritual to ensure that Mr. Harker survives long enough to be of service to us. But first, a more pragmatic bit of protection

As she spoke, she moved to the night-stand and picked . up a crucifix lying there, or rather the gold chain attached to it, and let it dangle in front of her face.

I confessed I gasped aloud, for I had been quite aware of its presence all along, and rendered ill-at-ease. She saw my discomfort (or rather, frankly, terror)and laughed, tilting her face skyward whilst bringing the tiny impaled.

Christ overhead until it rested just above her unmarred, porcelain features.

Do not be cruel, I begged her in a trembling voice, for I was at once on the precipice of weeping. Do not toy with me so, for I cannot bear it You will scar your precious skin!

Still she ignored me, laughing, as though holding a red-hot poker above such a perfect and beautiful countenance was delightful sport. I surrendered to tears and covered my eyes.

And when I looked again, she had pressed the golden cross to her lips and kissed it.

I screamed, and began to faint; at once, she rushed over and caught me in her arms, saying:

My dear, my dear, I did not mean to alarm you so! I merely meant to prove a point. Here She immediately carried me to the sofa and sat beside me, gently patting my cheeks until I at last dared open my eyes.

She held a closed fist up to my face, then slowly opened it to reveal the crucifix upon her white palm. Again I recoiled and began to cover my face, but she commanded urgently: Look at me, Zsuzsanna.
Look

I looked. And saw that the flesh beneath the shining golden object was perfect, untouched. Awed, I raised trembling fingers to her ruby mouth and found it entirely unblemished and beautiful.

But when she clasped my wrist and turned my hand palm-upward, intent on handing me the cross, I cried out again. I cant! It will burn me I know, because it has happened.

Zsuzsanna. Her tone grew stern. Its like the sunlight. It can only hurt you if you are afraid of it. These are Vlads fears, not your own; why have you carried them so long? And, too swiftly for me to resist, she pushed the object into my outstretched palm and curled my ringers tight about it.

I was too startled to scream, to reactto do anything, really, except gape at the gleaming image in my hand. And a few seconds after, the revelation came: The cross was cold and sharp in my palm, but it did not burn my skin, nor did its presence evoke the expected agony.

You see? Elisabeth said, smiling again. It is a bit of
metal
, nothing more. But Vlad does not believe that; and so, let us employ his superstitions against him. Go on, Zsuzsanna put it round Mr. Harkers sleepy little head.

I did so, marvelling at my own imperviousness, my own power.

And now, dear Jonathan, Elisabeth intoned softly at the snoring solicitor, you are to wear this necklace wherever you go, and if the chain should break, you must always carry the cross upon your person. If Vladthe countand here she glanced at me, grinning at her intentional repetition of Harkers misinformationshould threaten, shove this pendant in his face.

Thus did Mr. Harker become our agent.

A fortnight later, the
tsigani
contingent returned with great wagons, and the pattern of Vlads scheme more clearly emerged. There can be no question: He is indeed abandoning this place, if not forever, then for a very long time. At that time, Elisabeths gypsy lover returnedbut their second meeting was limited to travel arrangements, both ours and Vlads. He is taking the safest way for him boatbut we are not so constrained, and will be waiting for him when he finally arrives.

When I saw the big uncovered wagons, each large enough to hold several caskets of earth (another of Vlads ridiculous superstitions, to believe that he cannot leave Transylvania without taking a bit of it with him), my anger at being abandoned again flared, and I begged Elisabeth to do everything in her power to destroy him
now
. She insisted that such an effort would most likely fail at this time (what is she not telling me now in order to spare me worry?); nevertheless she would try, by recruiting our Englishman to attempt the deed.

And this she did, sending Mr. Harker on a diurnal mission to kill Vlad (which he very nearly did)but the fool quailed.

And so I sit, equally overcome by excitement and fear. Tonight, Vlad finally came to meI have not seen him for almost a month, but was not surprised to find him further rejuvenated, with hair no longer white but pewter, and complexion faintly rosy. His expression was one of exultation mixed with condescending generosity.

Tomorrow night, said he, smiling. He is yours tomorrow.

I feigned an expression of hopelessness and said sullenly, You are abandoning me here to starve. Do not tiunk
t
do not Vnovj.

His brows arched in mock innocence; he placed a spread palm upon his lifeless heart. Me? Zsuzsanna, have you in your crush for Elisabeth come to realise that /, not she, have been your benefactor all these years? No, my dear, I must go and see to the details of some very special property in England. At long last, I have found a way to free us both. And I do not do so without first thinking of you: I shall leave you the English guest for your very own! When all is ready, long before you are hungry again, I shall return for you.

I would not meet his gaze, but kept my own fixed upon the window and the freedom beyond. In a low, hostile voice, I slowly proclaimed: Arkady is gone.

So consummate was his deceit that his expression of abject surprise, limned with fear, was quite convincing; but I was not fooled. What? It is true.

Too terribly true. Knowing that the time would soon arrive when I would leave this castle for goodeither through the vehicle of death, or the carriage that would bear me across the continentI had gone down this morning to the subterranean vault, to bid my dear brothers body farewell.

Gone; vanished. (I am too heartsick even to weep about it now.) No trace of the corpse, though the bloodless stake lay atop the bare earthen catafalque where he had lain. At the discovery, I had fallen upon the damp mouldering ground and sobbed to think of my sweet Kashas remains defiled in some evil attempt at magic by that monster. And like the Marys at the unsealed tomb, I demanded of Vlad now: Where have you taken him?

His grey brows knit together like rushing thunderclouds, and his colour grew livid as he shouted: This is some new treachery, is it not? Some new plot for misguided revenge! You have been listening to Elisabeths lies and I will give you no further warnings, since you have not believed the first. My only satisfaction comes from the knowledge that soon you will see your own stupidity in
having trusted her and abandoned me And then all
your pleas for help will be too late!

He turned on his heel and stormed away, slamming the door behind him with such force that, with the ear-stunning sound of a pistol shot, the wood cracked in a lightning-bolt diagonal.

Through it all, I kept my silence. My revenge shall consist not of words or arguments, but of deeds which shall see him hurled down to Hell in agony.

So at last, we have partedforever. I feel no sadness, no melancholy gratitude to him who gave me the immortal kiss. He has taken from me my mother, my father, my brother, my friend, my dignity; he has turned all my love to vengeful wrath.

Bastard! We shall meet again in EnglandEngland! It seems an unattainable dream, a mirage which beckons in the distance; and I worry that when I at last draw near, it will waver and dissolve into dust.

No. No fear, no doubt. I will find you in London. And there 1
will
strike you down

Chapter 7

Telegram, Abraham Van Helsing, M.D., D.Ph., D. Lit., Etc., Etc., Amsterdam, to John Seward, M.D., Purfleet, England

28 June Dear and trusted friend,

Apologies in advance for the imposition: Need your help and discretion, and unpardonably soon. Am bringing psychiatric patient to Purfleet afternoon of 1 July and require lodging for us bothbut need for secrecy paramount. No one else must know we are in the city
.

My companion requires a barred and padlocked cell; I request same for myself

Destroy this document at once.

* * *

Dr. Sewards Diary

1 JULY.

The professor has come.

He arrived as expected in the afternoon, dressed in black with a broad-brimmed straw hat and looking for all the world like a village priest. I stood in the entryway and watched him step from the cab, then turn and reach out as the driver handed down a small, frail woman. She, too, wore all black, including a veil which obscured her features.

He carried her easily in his arms down the flower-lined path, as if he were long accustomed to doing so. When he spotted me on the porch, he grinned broadly, his blue eyes brightening at once. I strode forward and clapped his shoulder; the impulse to shake hands occurred to us both, but was rendered impossible because of the mysterious patient in his arms.

Professor Van Helsing! I called heartily, while behind him, the driver set two large suitcases upon the ground. I hurried over and took care of the tip at once; my mentor is not very well off financially, from what I can gather. I believe he routinely undercharges his patients or charges them not at all, and I would be a gentleman of leisure now were it not for my hobby, the asylum.

At my greeting, the professors grin faded and some of the light left his eyes. He pursed his lips as if to hush me into silence; had he not borne such a burden, he would have also raised a finger to them. I heeded the warning and immediately lowered my voice to a whisper.

It is good to see you again.

The smile and brightness returned immediately. And you, friend John. Though you are looking rather pale and underfed. We shall have to find a young lady to fatten you up and lure you out for walks in the sunshine!

I averted my gaze briefly down at the riot of yellow and crimson zinnias edging our path, but maintained a pleasant expression. Anything that evoked thoughts of Lucy was still painful, so I did not reply.

At once his tone softened with compassion. Ah

I see I have blundered directly onto the problems source. Forgive me, my friend; I am a blind and foolish old man.

I believe I blushed, which only increased my discomfort, as it is for me an uncommon reaction. Then I glanced shyly at the silent patient, wondering hew lucid she might be, and whether she had registered the exchange. How could I manage a dignified introduction now?

Once again, Van Helsing seemed to have read my thoughts. Have no worry, John. She suffers from catatonia; her mind is far from us. Even if it were not, she would be unable to divulge your troubles, for she does not speak.

You are far from old, and most certainly not blind, I told him. Frankly, you are the most perceptive person I know. Indeed, he has been this way since I first met him. Sometimes, his ability to guess what Ior another person am thinking is astounding. It is not simply that he knows me well; I have seen him do the same with strangers. Over time, I have developed two theories: one, that he has honed his observation skills to preternatural perfection; or two, that he is psychic.

The latter is difficult to prove, though of late I have become keenly interested in occult phenomena and the teachings of a local organisation known as the Golden Dawn. (My readings have led me to conclude that the professor is privy to much, or all, of their knowledge. This is based on countless comments he has made during our close eight-year friendship. Esoteric phrases such as
As above, so below
a quote from our mutual acquaintance Hermes Trismegistus. And dozens more such opaqueat the time, anywayremarks.)

More than that, the professor radiates an aura of powernot so much the physical sort as the mental. Like me, he was a
wunderkind
, but I do not speak of intelligence here, which he has in abundance; I speak of the metaphysical. In publicexcept when he lectureshe takes on the
persona
of the good-natured bumbler, the clown. I have even heard him affect the most outrageously comical foreign accent, even though his English is quite excellent. It is as if he wants to prevent the world from seeing the true man: the scholar, the genius, the philosopher.