The Mina Murray Series Bundle #1-3
Date: 2017-10-19 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Horror; Fantasy; Vampires; Fiction
Description: In this electrifying retelling of a classic tale, Mina Murray and Abraham Van Helsing must take on a supernatural threat to the human world. This bundle contains the entire Mina Murray series of 3 full length novels. If you love adventure, romance, and mystery, pick up your copy today. **This bundle includes an extended afterword from the author. 1. The Beast of London Mina Murray teams up with her former paramour Abraham Van Helsing to rescue her fiancé, Jonathan Harker, after he’s abducted from a society ball. But Mina soon realizes that Jonathan's abduction is tied to a larger threat agains

The Mina Murray Series Bundle

Books 1-3

L.D. Goffigan

The Beast of London - Copyright © 2017 by L.D. Goffigan

Fortress of Blood - Copyright © 2017 by L.D. Goffigan

Realm of Night - Copyright © 2017 by L.D. Goffigan

All rights reserved.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

The Beast of London Cover Design by Damonza

Fortress of Blood Cover Design by Damonza

Realm of Night Cover Design by Kerry Hynds

Created with Vellum

Contents

The Beast of London

Fortress of Blood

Realm of Night

The Beast of London

1. Adventure Stories

2. The Beast Of London

3. The Harkers

4. The Ball

5. Creatures Of Myth And Nightmare

6. The Vanishing

7. Lucy

8. Transylvania

9. The Promise

10. The Demeter

11. Invasion

12. Overrun

13. Adrift

14. Ijsbran

15. Symbiosis

16. Pursued

17. Massacre

18. Gabriel

19. Revelations

20. The Silent War

21. Draculesti

Fortress of Blood

1. The Order

2. The Land Beyond The Forest

3. Training

4. Ghyslaine

5. Monsters And Darkness

6. Fortress Of Blood

7. Escape

8. Jonathan

9. The Ceremony

10. A Dangerous Idea

11. The Blood

12. Transformation

13. Rage

14. Purfleet

15. Goodbye

16. The Next Journey

Realm of Night

1. Blood Plague

2. Destruction

3. Rage and Bloodlust

4. Rosalind

5. The Trap

6. Warning

7. Berlin

8. Pale Shadow

9. Nightfall

10. Dance of Pain

11. Bloodlines

12. The Order

13. Dark Places

14. Emma

15. Blood of Monsters

16. The Promise

17. The Night Masquerade

18. Prey

19. My Queen

20. Hunter

21. Family

22. Inferno

23. Transylvania

24. Fear

25. The Choice

26. Humanity

27. Possibility

A Message from the Author

Prequel Short Stories

Afterword

About the Author

Also by L.D. Goffigan

THE BEAST OF LONDON

Mina Murray once lived an adventurous life, but after a tragedy in the forests of Transylvania, she left it all behind. Now she has settled into a quiet routine as a schoolteacher in London, engaged to the respectable solicitor Jonathan Harker, attempting to fit into the stuffy upper class London society to which he belongs.

Her dark past comes careening into her present when Jonathan is abducted by a group of vampires from a society ball. Determined to rescue him, she teams up with her former paramour Abraham Van Helsing and his colleague, Scotland Yard Inspector John Seward.

As they pursue Jonathan’s abductors from England to the Low Countries and beyond, Mina realizes that Jonathan’s abduction is tied to a larger threat against humanity…

An electrifying retelling of a classic tale, THE BEAST OF LONDON is the first book of the Mina Murray series.

FORTRESS OF BLOOD

Mina and her allies have found the Transylvanian countryside dotted with empty villages and rife with whispers of monsters who wear human skin. As she prepares for the final showdown with her fiance's abductors, the last descendants of the supernatural Draculesti family, she discovers her own shocking connection to the hidden world of vampires...

A suspenseful retelling of a classic tale, FORTRESS OF BLOOD is the second book of the Mina Murray series.

REALM OF NIGHT

Mina and her allies have destroyed Vlad Draculesti, but the human world is still in danger from his vampire allies. From Berlin to Paris, major European cities have begun to fall to their followers. To spare humanity from the grip of looming darkness, Mina must defeat one of the most powerful vampires in the world...

A thrilling retelling of a classic tale, REALM OF NIGHT is the third book of the Mina Murray series.

“One general law, leading to the advancement of all organic beings, namely, multiply, vary, let the strongest live and the weakest die.”

- Charles Darwin, On The Origin of Species

1

Adventure Stories

Walking through the streets of the East End, I felt the sudden unnerving sensation of a gaze prickling the back of my neck. I clutched the strap of my bag, scanning my surroundings for any sign of a pursuer. The day was unusually bright and sunny for early May in London, a time when rainfall was more common than sunlight, and the streets around me teemed with the familiar late afternoon sights I had become accustomed to during my daily commutes home from the Halfield Ragged School. Street vendors hawked their wares—kidney pudding, fresh fruit, and ginger beer; flower girls sold bundles of primroses and violets; flocks of eager children crowded around merchants who sold halfpenny ices. Passersby weaved around the double deck horse trams, hansom cabs, and carriages that clogged the patchwork of narrow streets.

None of the passersby paid me any mind, and I saw no signs of any potential pursuer, but my unease did not dissipate. I was not far from Whitechapel, where the murderer who called himself Jack the Ripper once lurked. The Ripper had not struck for months, and rumors abounded that he had died or even fled London.

Despite the school’s proximity to the Whitechapel murders, I had never before felt unsafe during my commutes. I even lingered in the neighborhood when I visited families who lived in the nearby tenement buildings to give them baked goods I purchased from street vendors, or old books the school no longer needed.

Pushing my disquietude aside, I continued down the street. I simply must have been on edge because of my confrontation with my superior, the schoolmaster Horace Welling, only hours before.

Horace had entered my classroom not long after I dismissed my students for the day, a scowl etched deep into the sharp lines of his face. With his beak-like nose, beady black eyes, and harsh features, Horace reminded me of a crow come to life. I’d overheard my students on many occasions referring to him as such. Though I admonished them for the taunt, I had to fight back an amused smile of my own whenever I did.

Horace had taken an instant dislike to me, and had not spared me a kind word in the three years I’d taught at the school. If it weren’t for the Harkers’ influence, I would have never kept my post.

“How may I help you, Mister Welling?” I asked, forcing a polite smile as he approached my desk.

“I overheard you telling the students tales of your past adventures, and I must say I am quite displeased with that method of teaching, Miss Murray. Nonsensical adventure stories are not proper lessons. Whatever you did in your past has nothing to do with my curriculum,” he said, emphasizing the word ‘past’ with a slight sneer.

“Children get bored. At times, telling stories is necessary to hold their attention.”

“These are some of the poorest children in London. They should be happy to receive an education at all. They do not have the privilege of being bored.”

Anger shot through me at his words. Horace was barely middle class, yet his snobbery belonged to someone of the nobility; it was truly insufferable. Usually, I was able to hold my tongue at such remarks, but today had been an exception.

“It is not their fault they were born to a lower station,” I snapped. “I’m going to give these students the best education I can—the same that I would give to wealthy children. All children enjoy stories. It helps them learn.”

Horace’s eyes narrowed dangerously. He hated anyone disagreeing with him—especially a female teacher who worked beneath him. He stepped forward, his mouth going tight.

“If you wish to maintain your post, you will adhere to the curriculum I have administered. Otherwise, I am afraid our funding will not be able to continue for your class.”

I stared at him in disbelief, but Horace evenly met my eyes. For all his grim-faced dourness and snobbery, Horace was not a cruel man. But I could tell by his expression that he was quite serious.

I calmed myself, setting aside my pride for the sake of the students. Without my class, many of them would be unable to get an education anywhere else, and they would be put to work in the factories . . . or worse.

“All right, Mister Welling,” I said, forcing agreeability into my tone. “No more adventure stories. I will stick to the curriculum. My apologies.”

Horace’s hard mouth curved, settling into what I assumed was his version of a smile.

“I trust we will not need to have such discussions in the future.”

“No. Of course not,” I replied, though it took every ounce of restraint I had to keep the polite smile pinned on my face.

Looking quite pleased with himself, Horace turned and waddled from the room. As soon as he was gone, my smile vanished, and I wearily leaned back against my desk, taking in the old dusty classroom where I spent much of my time. The school was indeed for the poorest children of the East End, and it showed. My classroom was minuscule in size, dimly lit during the day by sunlight, which filtered through the smudged narrow windows. I had attempted to hide the dirty walls of the classroom with maps and drawings the children made, but the grime was still quite visible. The narrow desks the students shared had become cracked and rickety with age, and the old wooden floors were riddled with splinters.

Despite the decrepit state of the classroom, I had grown fond of it, just as I’d grown fond of my young students. Their joviality and inquisitiveness was infectious, and reminded me of myself at their age. Teaching at the school had become a much-needed refuge, a way to forget the painful events of my past. Dealing with Horace was a minor annoyance in light of such a haven.

I pulled myself from my thoughts and back to the present, though my agreement to not tell any more adventure stories still weighed heavily on my mind. The stories were all about my travels throughout Europe with my father and his former student, Abraham Van Helsing. My father had been a biologist, and I shared his love for the natural sciences. I accompanied him on his travels with Abe around Europe to perform experiments, and he sometimes even managed to sneak me into lectures and conferences. Telling my students embellished versions of our travels had become my way of reliving those happy times. Now I feared that those memories would soon fade to nothing, and I would be left with only the most painful one. The one that still plagued my nightmares.

I paused mid stride as a surge of grief threatened to rise, but I managed to quell it. In the three years since my father’s death, I had come to learn that grief was an emotion without end, marked by continual waves of loss and despair that ebbed and flowed for years, like the ocean tides. Perhaps it was best that I could no longer relive my past through those stories. They were a part of my old life; the life I had left behind after Father’s death.

As I joined a throng of commuters to approach the Whitechapel and Mile End Underground Station, I noticed a man about fifty yards behind me out of the corner of my eye, moving with slow deliberation to match my pace. This could have been a mere coincidence, but my unease returned and my spine stiffened with alarm. I picked up my pace to push through the slow moving crowd, subtly glancing behind me to see if he would follow suit.

The man picked up his pace as well, and I could feel his intense gaze on me; the same gaze I had sensed only moments earlier.

My instincts had been correct. I was being followed, and I had just identified my pursuer.

I could not fathom who would be following me or why, but I instinctively felt that I needed to evade him. Not wanting to lead the pursuer to my home, I turned to slip out from the crowd of commuters, bypassing the station to take an abrupt turn down the next street.

The street I had turned onto was isolated and dominated by decrepit lodging houses. A crumbling brick wall marked a dead end. A grave sense of foreboding swept over me as I passed by a butcher shop, which coated the surrounding air with the thick smell of blood.

I hoped that I had lost my pursuer and could turn back around, but I was halfway down the street when I heard steady footfalls behind me.

Taking a deep breath to quell my rising panic, I tried to recall my self-defense training. Years ago, Father had insisted that I undergo self-defense training at a boxing and fencing school just outside of London. As much as I enjoyed physical exercise, I had thought it an odd and unnecessary request, yet he had insisted. I obliged him and took up training under the tutelage of Bradford and Sofia Frances, husband and wife instructors.

If you ever suspect you are being followed, maintain your calm, Sofia had once told me. Never show your fear. First, you must determine if you are prepared to fight.

I was unarmed and certainly not prepared to fight. I’d stowed away the two kukri knives Abe had given me as a gift when I started my training. I didn’t think I’d ever need them again.

If you are not prepared to fight, find an escape.

I would have to bypass my mysterious pursuer to flee. I was trapped. Behind me, I could hear his steady footfalls as he drew near.

If you cannot escape and you are not prepared to fight . . . do what you must to defend yourself.

I kept walking until I neared the brick wall that closed off the far end of the street, deliberately slowing my pace. The footfalls of my pursuer also slowed as he drew closer still.

I finally stopped walking altogether, keeping my back to him as I pretended to search for something in my bag. Though my heart hammered in my chest and my hands shook violently, I hoped that I appeared calm. I forced myself to wait until the man was close and his hand grasped my shoulder.

“You—”

The word was barely past his lips when I whirled, pulling back from his grip and lifting up my skirt to kick out at his knees. The man let out a startled cry as he crumpled to the ground, and I stepped forward, lifting up my boot and pressing it firmly onto his chest, forcing him onto his back as I glared down at him.

The man was devilishly handsome, with wide cerulean blue eyes that peered up at me from beneath prominent brows. A shade of dark stubble grazed his strong jawline, and wavy chestnut hair fell almost to his shoulders. He did not seem concerned to be flat on his back with my boot on his chest, and quiet amusement danced in his eyes as he met my astonished look with a wry grin.

I stumbled back, reeling with disbelief. It was a face I knew well. A face I thought I would never see again.

Abraham Van Helsing lumbered to his feet, picking up his hat as he pulled himself up to his full height of well over six feet. He grinned down at me, dusting off his vest and black tweed sack coat, and placed his hat securely back on his head. I stared at him, dumbfounded, not quite believing that he was standing before me.

“That was quite the greeting, Mina,” he said lightly, in the deeply timbered voice I knew so well, his English only slightly accented by his native Dutch.

“What . . . what are you doing here?” I demanded, when I was finally able to find words. My astonishment rapidly turned into fury. “And why did you follow me like that? You could have called on me at home. You frightened me.”

“It was my intention to call on you, but my business at Scotland Yard concluded earlier than I anticipated. When I went to your school you were already leaving; I wanted to see if you recalled your training. I see that you have,” he added, with a wry smile. “I am sorry. It was not my intention to frighten you.”

I studied him, flushed with an array of conflicting emotions. I was still angry at how he had startled me; but I was also surprised, dismayed, worried, and beneath it all . . . there was a tiny flicker of joy at seeing him again. But as his words broke through my haze of astonishment, the joy dissipated.

“Scotland Yard?” I asked, the pit of my stomach filling with dread. “What business do you have with Scotland Yard? Why are you in London?”

My unease made my tone sharper than I had intended. Abe’s casual look of amusement faded, and I caught a fleeting glimpse of hurt in his eyes. But the look was gone as quickly as it had appeared, and he took a step towards me, his face turning grave.

“I have a carriage across the street, we can discuss it there. Please, it is urgent,” he added, at my clear hesitation. He stepped forward to tentatively touch my arm, and a rush of heat spread through my skin at his touch.

I took an abrupt step back, and Abe swiftly removed his hand, dropping it to his side. “You have my assurance it will not take long.”

I took in his serious expression and the rigid way he held himself. I had rarely seen Abe anxious. His scientific mind focused on facts and rationality rather than the unnerving possibilities of the unknown, and he was usually able to maintain his calm. Whatever he wanted to discuss had to be grave.

“Briefly,” I conceded. “And then I must be on my way.”

2

The Beast Of London

His shoulders relaxed, and I realized that his seemingly casual disposition only served to hide how on edge he truly was. I could now see small lines of tension etched into the skin around his eyes, as well as the faint shadows beneath them.

I fell into step beside him as we turned to head back down the street. When we reached the main thoroughfare of Mile End Road, I glanced around to make sure we weren’t noticed, though I knew that no one in the Harkers’ social circle would ever set foot in the East End. It would cause quite the scandal if rumors spread that I was in the company of a man who was neither a relative nor my fiancé.

Abe remained silent as we walked, keeping his gaze trained straight ahead. I took in the wide breadth of his shoulders and the long chestnut hair that curled at his nape, far longer than was fashionable for men in London. I tried to ignore the warmth that spread over me at the familiar sight of him, this man I had once loved. He had never been far from my thoughts in the years since our parting, and his physical presence was like a potent memory come to life.

We soon arrived at an ornately decorated carriage, which looked more appropriate for Park Lane or Kensington than the East End; it stood out amongst the shabby buildings and older carriages and cabs that dotted the street.

The driver stepped forward and swung open the door, helping me inside. Abe settled in next to me, and as the driver shut the door behind us, I turned to Abe, acutely aware of our closeness.

“What is so urgent?” I asked.

Abe didn’t immediately respond, his eyes so intent on my face that I almost looked away, and he reached for my hand. Stunned, I tried to yank it away, but he held firm, examining my engagement ring—a marquis-shaped ruby surrounded by diamonds on a delicate rose gold band that Jonathan had lovingly slipped on my finger only a few months before. I flushed, feeling oddly guilty as Abe studied it, his eyes unreadable. I yanked my hand out of his, successfully this time, as he met my eyes.

“Gefeliciteerd,” he said mildly, congratulating me in Dutch. “I am sorry for not replying to your letter about the engagement; I was traveling in France at the time for a conference. Jonathan Harker,” he continued, and I could now detect a slight trace of contempt in his tone. “You have secured yourself a solicitor from an honorable family. Well done, Mina.”

Fiery anger spread through me at his words. Surely my engagement wasn’t what he wanted to discuss? I had written to inform him of my engagement when I certainly wasn’t obligated to do so, as our own relationship had ended years ago. After all we had been through, shouldn’t he wish for my happiness?

I opened my mouth to raise this very point, but stopped myself. There were too many shared wounds between us . . . too much that needed to be left in the past. The three years that had gone by were like an invisible dam that held back the tumult of pain that marked the end of our relationship, and quarreling with him would only cause it to break. I decided to stick to the matter at hand.

“I assume you didn’t travel all the way from Amsterdam to mock my engagement,” I said instead. “What do you want to discuss?”

“A friend of mine from university summoned me to London. His wife Lucy is suffering from a strange malady. I have thoroughly examined her and I do not believe it is an illness at all—not one with a natural cause,” he added, grimly meeting my eyes. “She is exhibiting behavior that we have both heard of before—in Transylvania.”

My entire body froze in disbelief. Abe held my gaze for a long moment, allowing time for his disturbing words to settle, before reaching down into a bag resting on the carriage floor, extricating a small stack of documents. He plopped them onto my lap, giving me a sharp nod to indicate that I should read them.

My hands trembled as I picked up the documents and began to rifle through them. They were mostly newspaper clippings, consisting of various headlines:

HORROR IN WHITECHAPEL!

JACK THE RIPPER CLAIMS 5th VICTIM!

THE BEAST OF LONDON STRIKES AGAIN!

GHASTLY MURDER IN THE EAST END!

As I read the headlines, my turmoil increased. Why did he want me to look at these? Like most Londoners, I was well aware of the Whitechapel murders. The Ripper had been in my thoughts only moments earlier when I’d sensed I was being followed.

I looked up at Abe, confused, but there was a quiet insistence in his eyes that urged me to continue. I looked back down, continuing to flip through the newspaper clippings, until I arrived at a grisly photograph.

The photo was of a crime scene. A young woman lay dead on the dingy floor of a lodging house. Her throat had been violently torn out, her eyes wide and unseeing. A wave of nausea rose in my stomach as an image from my memories replaced the image from the photo—an image from my nightmares.

The forest. The rain. The unseeing eyes of Father.

I shut my eyes, roughly shoving the documents back at him.

“An immigrant family of ten residing in a lodging house in Whitechapel vanished last night. The only person left behind was this poor young woman. I have a contact at Scotland Yard who is on the team that investigated the Ripper murders. He is the one who gave me this photograph. There are—”

“Why did you want me to see these? Everyone in London—in Europe—knows about the Ripper. And what does this have to do with Mister Holmwood’s wife?” I demanded.

“You know exactly why,” Abe replied. “I need you to listen to me. We know your father was likely investigating the—”

“And look what happened to him,” I interrupted bitterly. I expelled a sharp breath and closed my eyes, pressing my shaky fingers to my temples. His words were bringing back dark and painful memories that I desperately wanted to forget.

“I am sorry, I do not mean to upset you. But I believe that you and I may be the only ones in London who have seen this before. We could perhaps help the—”

“No,” I said, reaching past him to rap on the carriage window. “I told you years ago I want nothing to do with any of this. Had Father never gone to Transylvania, he would still be alive. Now let me out.”

“Let us at least take you home.”

“I prefer to walk.”

Abe studied me, quiet frustration and something else I couldn’t identify lurking in his eyes. He finally turned away from me, reaching out to open the carriage door and stepping out. I hastily climbed out after him, waving away both his and the driver’s offer of help.

“Mina—” Abe began, when we were once again facing each other.

“Please do not contact me about this again,” I said, looking away from the distress in his eyes. It was an echo of our parting years ago, and my chest tightened at the memory. “Goodbye.”

I didn’t dare look back as I walked away, and to my relief he did not try to stop me.

When I reached Highgate, I was still disconcerted. Walking along High Street, I tried to focus on the trees that lined Waterlow Park as they danced with the late afternoon breeze, a sight which usually filled me with tranquility. But the sight had no effect as I recalled both Abe’s words and the lifeless eyes of the woman from the photograph.

She is exhibiting behavior that we have both heard of before—in Transylvania.

Two years prior to my father’s death, we had journeyed to the Transylvanian countryside to observe the abundant animal and botanical species native to the Carpathian mountains. The villagers in the region told us supernatural tales of evil spirits that lurked in the surrounding mountains. When they told us of bodies viciously torn apart or drained of blood, we had assumed there was a rational explanation, and dismissed their tales as superstitions born of ignorance. But the villagers persisted with their tales, and they had many names for the preternatural creature they thought was responsible. Strigoi. Blutsauger. Kisertet.

Vampire.

Fear stirred in me, but I pushed it aside, unearthing the house keys from my bag as I turned on to my street. Such a creature did not exist—could not exist. I still did not know exactly what I’d seen the night of Father’s death. My vision had been distorted through a fog of shock and grief. Abe had no right to try and pull me back into our shared gruesome past, as if it were something to which I would forever be entwined. I had slowly been untangling myself from the cords of the past . . . day by day, year by year. What had happened in Transylvania was far behind me, and there it would remain.

I arrived at my front door and unlocked it. Stepping into the entrance hall, I welcomed the sense of calm that settled over me.

After Father’s death, I had worried that living in the home I grew up in and shared with him would be too painful. But my home provided a comforting familiarity I needed in the early days of my bereavement. It was a four-story terraced home, its walls adorned with paintings of nature that Father had inherited from his own family or purchased, as well as framed copies of scientific drawings of plant and animal species that I’d done for his publications. The wide windows in most of the rooms let in an abundance of light, even on the most dreary days. I would truly miss it when I moved into Jonathan’s Mayfair home after we were wed.

I smiled at the thought of Jonathan. I would not let Abe’s visit mar the rest of my day. I was to have dinner with Jonathan and his mother later. He could always tell when I was upset, and I was uncertain that I even wanted him to know about Abe’s appearance today.

“Mina? Are you all right?”

Clara stepped out of the drawing room, frowning as she studied my anxious features with motherly concern.

Clara had worked as a housekeeper for my family since I was a small child, but she seemed ageless to me. Her warm brown eyes, strong features, and long, graying brunette hair that she wore in an ever-present bun had hardly changed over the years. She started not long after my mother’s death, and she was the closest person in my life that I had to a mother. She was well aware of the tragic past Abe and I shared, and I knew it would only cause her great worry if she were to know of his visit.

“Yes. Just trouble with Horace again,” I lied, forcing a smile. But I was unable to meet her eyes. I could never truly lie to Clara; a half-truth would have to do. Clara stepped forward to collect my bag, her mouth narrowing into a thin line of dislike at the mention of Horace.

“He should be grateful ta have you. You don’t even need ta teach there,” she said, scowling.

“I like teaching there,” I returned, with a patient smile, moving past her towards the stairs at the side of the entrance hall.

My father had earned good wages as a professor at Cambridge, but he had a large inheritance from his family that he’d barely touched during his lifetime. As an only child, his home and inheritance all went to me. But I intended to keep teaching, and Jonathan had raised no objection when I informed him that I’d like to keep working after we were wed, something unheard of in his family.

As I started up the stairs, a sudden urge came over me, and I turned back towards Clara.

“Where are the keys to Father’s study?”

“In t’ top desk drawer int’ library. Why do you—” Clara began, looking at me with surprise. I never went into Father’s study.

“I need one of his maps for a lesson plan,” I interrupted, avoiding her probing look. I hated how the lies were increasing, but if she pushed for details, I would be forced to tell her of Abe’s visit, and I refused to worry her. I hurried up the stairs before she could question me further, though I could feel her puzzled eyes on my retreating back.

Ever since his death, I had taken to avoiding Father’s study. Father had spent many long hours there, and when I was a child I’d often rush in, wrapping my arms around his legs and begging him to read to me. On the days when Clara had not whisked me off with hushed admonishments, he would indulge me, swinging me up into his arms as he told me tales of lands that seemed so far away and exotic to my young mind—whether they were nearby countries such as France, Germany, or the Low Countries, or faraway lands like India or the Americas. When I travel to these places, he had once promised, leaning in close as my eyes went wide with excitement. You’ll come with me, poppet.

I halted in my tracks as I reached the door to his study, blinking back the tears that pricked at my eyes, until I forced myself to unlock the door and step inside.

The lone window in the room was covered by thick curtains, so I lit the gas lamp next to the door, and the room filled with a soft and hazy light. The study looked as it had for years: brimming with books, journals, drawings and maps. But everything was now coated in a thick layer of dust; it had the look of a room frozen in time.

I had forbidden Clara to clean or touch anything in the study until I could sort through Father’s things. But the pain that filled me every time I entered the study had been too overwhelming, and though years had passed, I still had not done so.

I entered the room further, approaching the desk. I opened the top drawer, picking up the spectacles that rested inside. Since he frequently lost them, Father had kept several pairs of spectacles. He had left this pair behind right before his last trip. Still clutching them in my hands, I reached down to pick up a framed photograph inside the drawer, covered in dust. I blew the dust away, and studied it.

In the photo, Father sat in this very study, a handsome and gay man in his fifties, staring politely at the camera. He had been tall and robust, with laughing brown eyes and the dark curly hair that I’d inherited. I lovingly traced my fingers over the image of his face, and this time I allowed my tears to fall as grief seized me once more.

After several moments, I wiped my eyes and placed the photograph and spectacles back in the drawer, firmly reminding myself why I’d come into the study.

I reached further into the drawer, searching for Father’s most recent journal. It was not in the rear of the drawer where he usually kept it. Frowning, I searched the other drawers, but it was nowhere to be found.

It was missing.

3

The Harkers

Later that evening, as I sat in the opulent dining room of my future mother-in-law’s home, Father’s missing journal was still on my mind. Clara had assured me that she hadn’t removed anything from the study. I told myself that the journal could simply be with his other belongings that I had stored in the cellar, or that it had been misplaced at some point during the last three years. But my disquietude lingered, and I had to force a polite smile as Mary droned on about wedding invitations.

I shifted in my tightly corseted gown of lavender silk, an outfit much smarter than the simple cotton dresses I wore to school. But dinners at Mary Harker’s home were never less than formal affairs, even when it was just me, Jonathan, and Mary. I suspected that Mary used the dinners as an opportunity to both show off her wealth and subtly remind me that I would be expected to carry on the tradition of hosting elaborate dinners after Jonathan and I were wed.

I pretended to listen to Mary, picking at my meal of mulligatawny soup, roast chicken, potatoes and damson pudding, sliding a glance across the narrow dining room table towards my fiancé.

Jonathan was youthfully attractive, with dark hair and expressive hazel eyes that shifted from light brown to green depending on his mood, and a generous mouth that seemed to always border on a smile. He usually gave me sympathetic looks or sly winks during the long arduous dinners with his mother. But now he looked distracted, his gaze intent on the elaborate floral arrangement in the center of the table as he absently sipped his wine.

“We must invite the Crawfords, they will certainly expect us to do so,” Mary said, delicately dabbing at her lips with a napkin. “I expect you have no objections, Mina?”

Her smile was as forced as mine as she looked at me, her eyebrows raised as she waited for my reply. Mary disapproved of me, and she did a poor job of hiding it. Before our engagement, Jonathan had been one of the most eligible bachelors in London. His deceased father had been a wealthy barrister, and Jonathan was the sole heir to his fortune. I was certain Mary had a slew of society women in mind to wed her son before he chose me, the daughter of a social outcast by choice, who fit nowhere in the stratified society to which the esteemed Harker family belonged. It didn’t seem to matter to her that I had an inheritance of my own, and though I had tried many times to fall into her favor, I soon realized that I would never be the type of woman she wanted her son to marry. Now, for Jonathan’s sake, we simply endured each other.

“None at all,” I returned with stiff politeness. I didn’t know who the Crawfords were, but I suspected they were another stuffy family well acquainted with Mary Harker.

Thus far, Jonathan and I had made only vague plans for our wedding, and we only recently set a date for next spring. Mary was consistently suspicious of my lack of interest in the wedding, especially considering that I was twenty-five and creeping towards spinsterhood in her opinion. It is a woman’s only day, she would often chide, studying me with narrowed eyes.

For Mary’s sake, I tried to appear enthusiastic about my upcoming wedding, not wanting to reveal that I found the pomp of society weddings silly and quite unnecessary. As a girl, I never dreamed of getting married—my only desire then was to become an adventurer and a scientist. But I pushed those dreams aside after Father’s death. Now, I just wanted to teach and have a quiet life with Jonathan, and an elaborate wedding simply did not matter to me.

“Wonderful,” Mary said, her eyes still trained on me. “We have not discussed what you plan to do about your teaching position after you are wed. When do you plan to leave your post?”

I tensed, and her words seemed to pull Jonathan from his distracted thoughts. He looked at his mother with a frown.

“What do you mean, Mother?” he asked.

“Our Mina can hardly work at that . . . school, once she is married,” Mary sniffed, her nose crinkling in disgust at the very thought of the school where I taught. “If she insists on teaching, we can have her placed at a private one in a better neighborhood. Perhaps one here in Kensington—or Mayfair. I worry about my future daughter-in-law traveling to the East End every day,” she added, her hand straying to her heart in an exaggerated gesture of concern. But Mary was a terrible liar; her words were blatantly insincere.

“Mother . . .” Jonathan began, his voice tight with warning.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Mary said, not sounding at all apologetic. “I just hear the most terrible rumors about those—what are they called? Ragged schools? For poor children? I think it is rather noble that she chose to teach there, but once Mina is officially a Harker—”

“The school is quite understaffed,” I said, trying to hide my irritation behind a smile. “And I enjoy teaching the children there. It’s hardly their fault they were born poor.”

“Oh, I agree. But as Jonathan’s wife, you can hardly be expected to—”

“Mina is happy teaching where she is. If she is happy, then so am I,” Jonathan interjected.

A rush of love and gratitude towards Jonathan swirled within me, and I gave him a small smile, which he returned. Jonathan shared none of the snobbery that his mother and others of his class wore with pride. Mary bristled, irritated by our solidarity.

“Very well,” she said, though I knew the matter was hardly settled as far as she was concerned. “Will you be able to join me for tea this Sunday afternoon, Mina? I want to discuss more wedding details.”

I involuntarily stiffened. My Sunday afternoons were either spent with Jonathan taking walks around a different part of the city, or reading at home with a cup of tea. I enjoyed my Sunday afternoons. The thought of spending it with Mary and the haughty society women she often invited filled me with dread. With all of the turbulent emotions that had swirled through me since Abe’s reappearance, I needed an afternoon of relaxation.

My reluctance didn’t escape Mary’s notice. Nothing did, unfortunately. She raised an eyebrow.

“Is there a problem, my dear? You have been engaged to my son for six months, and you have only just set a date. People are beginning to talk.”

“Well, then we should wed right away. We certainly would not want people to talk,” I coolly returned.

Though it was somewhat satisfying to see Mary’s angry flush at my retort, I felt a twinge of regret. I didn’t need to deepen Mary’s disapproval of me. Mary scowled, and even Jonathan gave me a slightly disapproving frown.

“I’m sorry, Mary,” I said hastily, giving her as warm of a smile as I could muster. “I’ve had a bit of a stressful day. Tea on Sunday would be lovely.”

Mary nodded, but she still looked greatly offended. I turned to give Jonathan an apologetic look, but his focus had returned to the tablecloth, and he again seemed to be lost in his own thoughts.

The remainder of the meal was brief. I tried to engage Mary in conversation, inquiring about the many social functions she was to attend over the course of the next month. I even made suggestions for wedding decorations, but Mary offered only stilted replies.

I was relieved when the meal came to an end. Jonathan embraced and kissed his mother farewell; she stiffly offered me her cheek to kiss.

The air outside was damp with the promise of rain, but we still decided to take a brief walk before Jonathan escorted me back to Highgate. A light fog had descended over the Kensington streets, battling with the numerous gas lamps to cloak the neighborhood with its own form of hazy luminescence. In spite of the threat of rain and the increasing lateness of the hour, the streets still bustled with activity, and we had to navigate our way past other couples and passersby.

As we began our walk, I took Jonathan’s offered arm, glancing up to take in his profile. I met Jonathan at a charity ball over a year ago, where he had quietly mocked the exaggerated accents of the aristocratic guests, eliciting a genuine laugh from me for the first time in months. Our courtship had begun tentatively, with long talks in Mary’s drawing room. Mary had insisted on serving as our chaperone since both of my parents were deceased and I had very little contact with my father’s extended family. Our talks soon transitioned into lengthy walks all around London, and I found myself looking forward to our time together.

I had told him about Father, our travels, and my love of the sciences; careful to leave out details of exactly what we’d encountered in Transylvania, merely telling him that Father’s death was a tragic accident. To my relief, he had not pressed for more details, innately seeming to understand how painful Father’s death was for me—he’d lost his own father not long before our courtship began.

Jonathan told me of his work as a solicitor, and how his mother wanted him to become a barrister like his late father, but he took greater joy in helping the less privileged. His firm specialized in handling estate transactions for wealthy clients to purchase housing all throughout London for the poor.

I fell in love with Jonathan quite against my will. My grief over Father’s death and my long time love for Abe still hovered in the back of my heart, never letting me forget that they were there. Jonathan was not dismayed by my unconventional past, nor by my outsider status in society because of it. You are unlike anyone I have ever met, he’d said earnestly, before kissing me for the first time. When he proposed to me during a rainy carriage ride down Piccadilly, there was only one response I could possibly give him. I knew that with Jonathan, I would finally be able to move forward with my life and leave the tragedy in my past behind. Yes, I had tremulously whispered to him. With all my heart, yes.

“I’m sorry I was cross with your mother,” I said to him now. “I don’t think she accepted my apology. I’ll call on her tomorrow, if that would—”

“We both know my mother. There is no need to offer any additional apologies, my darling.”

He gave me a gentle smile, but he still looked vaguely troubled.

“Is something wrong, Jonathan? You’ve been distracted all evening.” Had someone spotted me and Abe earlier today? Was that what was troubling him? Jonathan stopped mid-stride and turned to face me, his eyes shadowed with anxiety. I stood stiffly, bracing myself for his response.

“Someone broke into our offices last night,” he said. “It was completely destroyed when I arrived this morning, yet nothing was taken.”

“No,” I breathed, frowning with concern.

“Last week I discovered a few files missing,” Jonathan continued, his brow furrowing. “After what happened today, I’m wondering if the two incidents are related. Peter told me that if there are any further incidents, we might have to move offices. He’s starting to think London’s become too dangerous.”

“I’m sorry,” I said sympathetically. Peter Hawkins was Jonathan’s partner at their two-man firm, a kind man in his fifties who shared Jonathan’s charitable nature, and whom I liked very much. “Is there anything I can do?”

“You can walk with me along the river,” he said with a smile, reaching out to pull me in close to his side. “Your presence is all that I require.”

I returned his smile, and we made our way south through Kensington towards the Thames. Once we reached the walking path that ran along the river, Jonathan pulled me in even closer, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

“I have been so distracted that I’ve neglected you, darling. How are you? Is Horace giving you any trouble?” Jonathan asked, raising my hand to his lips to give it a loving kiss.

I hesitated. Now would be the ideal time to tell him about Abe’s visit. Jonathan knew that Abe traveled with me and Father, but he had never inquired about the exact nature of our relationship. I suspected that he didn’t want to know.

“Mina?” Jonathan persisted.

As with Clara, I decided that I didn’t want to cause Jonathan undue concern. He had enough on his mind with the incidents at his office. Abe’s visit was inconsequential, I told myself. I will not be seeing him again.

“Horace scolded me today for telling adventure stories to the children,” I said, forcing a wry but annoyed smile, ignoring my guilt at the purposeful evasion. “He can be truly insufferable. But I love those students. I endure him for their sake.”

“Your students are lucky to have you. I meant what I said to Mother about your teaching. But I do confess . . .” he began, his words trailing off into silence as he looked away.

“What?”

“With all the traveling you’ve done; the life you led before . . . I fear you would be terribly bored as a solicitor’s wife,” he confessed.

Jonathan had expressed such concerns before, though I had repeatedly assured him otherwise. I wanted nothing of the life I had lived before I met him. I set aside my annoyance at this repeated concern; in light of the day’s events, I didn’t want to quarrel with him.

I stopped walking, turning him to face me as I gave him a look of mock offense.

“You are hardly just a solicitor, Jonathan. You perform the best impressions of anyone in London, and I get to be your solo audience.”

My words had their intended effect, and Jonathan laughed. I smiled, reaching up to gently touch his face.

“I love you, Jonathan Harker. My place is here with you.”

I cast a hasty look around to ensure we were alone before boldly reaching up to kiss him. Jonathan responded, and we only pulled away when we heard the footfalls of another approaching couple.

We continued along the path in companionable silence, periodically stopping to exchange kisses whenever we were alone. During one particularly passionate kiss, it began to rain. Jonathan pulled away from me with great reluctance, looking up at the dark and cloudy sky.

“We can find a cab,” he suggested.

“No. . . I rather enjoy walking in the rain. And some of our best memories are from walking in the rain,” I added, with a nostalgic smile. “Remember our walk home from the museum?”

“Of course,” he said, feigning a grimace as he wound his fingers through mine. “The best and the worst day.”

Jonathan had not only proposed to me in the rain, he’d also told me he loved me for the first time during a downpour. We had decided to make the long walk back to my home after taking in an exhibition of drawings at the British Museum, when there was a sudden torrential downpour of rain halfway through our walk. Unable to find a cab, we had hurried to the nearest Underground station, our clothing soaked straight through. Ignoring the disapproving gazes of other passengers as we dripped all over the floors of the train, we took in our mutually drenched states and began to laugh.

“I–I love you, Mina,” Jonathan had said suddenly, as our laughter subsided. An embarrassed flush spread over his cheeks at both my look of astonishment and the other passengers’ stares.

“I love you too,” I had replied, and he looked greatly relieved as his flush faded. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw many of the other passengers smile at our exchange. As soon as we emerged from the station, we found an isolated side street, where Jonathan passionately kissed me.

“Clara was quite cross with you when I returned home,” I said now, smiling at the memory as we left the walking path to head back towards Kensington. I cleared my throat and did my best impression of Clara’s Yorkshire accent. “‘I thought he was from a gran’ family. Takin’ a lady out int’ pourin’ rain.’”

“Ah, but we both know that you are not a typical lady. The walk home was your idea,” Jonathan protested, with playful defensiveness.

“Perhaps,” I returned, with a sly grin.

When we arrived in Highgate, the light rain had tapered off. We walked hand in hand up the stairs to my front door, and Jonathan turned to look at the dark windows of my home, frowning.

“I worry about you here all alone.”

“I’m hardly alone. Clara is often here,” I said. “We could elope, and I could move into your home sooner . . .” I added, with a mischievous smile.

“Mother would have a heart attack.” Jonathan laughed, looking both horrified and amused at the same time. “Darling, I want to show you off as my bride. The wait will be worth it.”

* * *

My anxiety over Abe’s reappearance did not dissipate the next day, and I had to force myself to concentrate on my students as they took turns reading aloud from their grammar books.

I had gently informed them that we would stick to Horace’s curriculum going forward, and I would not be telling any more adventure stories. My anger towards Horace reawakened when I saw the disappointment on their young faces. My tales of the world outside London was likely the only chance they’d ever have of experiencing it. My own pleasure aside, I loved seeing the light in their eyes as I described seeing the canals of Amsterdam, the multitude of evergreens in the Black Forest of Germany, and the vast Carpathian Mountain range.

By the end of the school day, the students were more muted than usual, and I noticed a few struggling to keep their eyes open as I had them recite their vocabulary tables. When I dismissed them for the day, they filed out without their usual cheery goodbyes, and I watched them leave with a concerned frown. I would have to find another way to make the lessons enjoyable.

As I took the Underground back to Highgate, my thoughts drifted to Abe rather than lesson plans. He was persistent, and I sincerely doubted that he had left London. He had once convinced the stubborn leader of a biology conference in Paris to allow me entrance by convincing him I was a distant relative of the queen. I couldn’t help but smile at the memory.

Tonight I was to attend a London Law Society ball with Jonathan. I knew that I needed to clear my mind, hurry home and get dressed, but when I reached Highgate, I found myself walking into the lush green grounds of Waterlow Park, heading towards a place I had not visited in months.

4

The Ball

The park was quiet, with only a few men and women strolling by or lounging on the various benches that dotted the grounds. By the time I reached the far edge of the park, the only sounds of humanity were the distant clopping of horse hooves and grind of carriage wheels, along with the faint voices of vendors selling their wares at the markets on High Street.

I soon reached my destination at the far end of the park, Highgate Cemetery. Ignoring the tendrils of dread that coiled around my chest, I made my way past the front gates, heading down a long dusty path that snaked through the cemetery grounds. The silence of the cemetery was as deafening as any noise, and as I walked past the multitude of gothic tombstones, it seemed as if the dead watched me in silent solemnity.

I reached the edge of the path, taking the left fork onto a narrower path until I arrived at a pair of simple granite headstones. I sank to my knees before them, a heaviness settling over me as I reached out with shaking fingers to trace the engraved words.

ROBERT MURRAY, BELOVED HUSBAND AND FATHER

I dropped my hand, reaching out to touch the engraved words of the adjacent headstone.

EVA MURRAY, BELOVED WIFE AND MOTHER

I had never truly known my mother. When I was a child of five, she’d left England after a long illness to seek further treatment in Italy. Her ship sank and her body had been lost at sea. I don’t believe Father ever fully recovered from her loss.

I had precious few memories of her. I could remember that she was beautiful, with long dark hair that I would wrap around my small hands as she laughed, and wide brown eyes that radiated both warmth and sadness. Father didn’t speak of her often, and a great shadow fell over his face whenever I inquired about her. Though I was too young when she died to feel her loss the way I felt Father’s, the ache of her missing presence had always been there. I reached up to touch the gold spinner locket around my neck. It contained a small photograph of me seated on her lap as a child, a gift she had given me shortly before she died.

A strange sensation on the back of my neck pulled me from my thoughts, and I went still. It was the feeling of a cold gaze searing my skin; an odd bite of frost amidst the warmth of the day. But this sensation felt different than that of the day before; there was an immediate sense of ominous danger.

I stumbled to my feet, looking around at the empty cemetery grounds, almost hoping to see Abe. There was no one else here, but my instincts told me to leave. I hurried back down the path, still feeling that persistent and haunting sensation of being watched.

I was still on edge when I returned home, and though I knew I needed to get dressed for tonight’s ball, I spent a good hour searching through Father’s study and the cellar for any sign of his missing journal. It wasn’t until Clara entered the cellar to inform me that Jonathan would shortly arrive that I reluctantly gave up the search.

“Why are you lookin’ for your father’s journal?” Clara asked curiously, as she helped me lace up my corset in front of my bedroom mirror moments later. “You’ve not looked through his things in years.”

“He has notes that I could use for my lessons,” I lied, avoiding Clara’s perceptive scrutiny. Once she secured my corset, I abruptly moved away from her, picking up the evening gown that I was to wear, still not looking at her. “I can finish getting dressed on my own. I don’t want you to miss your train.”

Clara lived in Luton, in a small home that once belonged to Father’s family, which he’d gifted to her in his will. But Clara often slept here in her old room, especially in the months after Father’s death. It was only after Jonathan and I began courting that she started to spend more time in her own home.

“I’m stayin’ overnight ta receive t’ bread delivery tomorrow. I told you earlier,” Clara said, her voice shadowed with concern.

“Right. Of course,” I said, letting out a forced laugh as I put on my petticoat.

“Mina,” Clara said, in an authoritative tone that I recalled from my childhood, and I instinctively looked up. She was regarding me with a worried frown. “Is everythin’ all right?”

“You know how much I hate these society balls,” I said, giving her what I hoped was a genuine smile. “I’d much rather stay home and read.”

Clara knew me too well, and I could tell that she didn’t believe me. But she said nothing, merely stepping forward to help me into my gown. When I was completely dressed and ready to go, she scented my skin with lavender perfume and handed me my cloak and silk gloves.

“There,” Clara beamed, stepping aside to allow me to take in my reflection.

The woman who stared back at me was dressed in a ball gown of fine red muslin adorned with symmetrical black lace garnitures at the sleeves and bodice. Her long dark curls were tucked back into a fashionable bun, her cheekbones and full mouth dabbed with a blood red pomade. Her eyelashes had been darkened with elderberries, highlighting her wide amber eyes. She looked very much like a woman of London society; soon to be an official member of the Harker family. She didn’t look like me at all.

I turned away from my reflection, feeling like an actress who was dressed for a part in a play, about to take her place on stage. Indeed, whenever I attended one of these balls, I felt as if I were putting on a performance. Though Jonathan shared my disdain for such affairs, he always blended in perfectly, effortlessly engaging in polite conversation, while I struggled to follow all the rules of etiquette. Do not speak too loudly. Do not cross the ballroom unattended. Do not speak unless invited to, when spoken to, only offer brief replies. There were many more that I had been forced to learn; Mary had practically given me a course in ball etiquette after Jonathan and I were engaged.

I began to tug on the gloves. Clara stopped me, tightly gripping both my hands in hers.

“I’m here for you if you need ta talk,” she said, searching my eyes.

I hesitated, tempted to tell her about Abe’s visit and the sense of being watched at the cemetery, but there was a knock at the door before I could speak. Clara reluctantly released my hands, leaving the room to answer it, and I watched her go. Guilt lingered in me because I had not confided in her, though I assured myself it was for the best.

Jonathan had arrived in the Harker family carriage. He looked dashing in a black tailcoat with a white bow tie and winged collar. He bid Clara a warm farewell and kissed me softly before escorting me into the carriage. The carriage lurched and jolted over the streets as it made its way towards the Langham Hotel in the West End.

“You look lovely, darling,” he said. “How will I distract myself from your beauty tonight?”

“Perhaps playing our game will help,” I replied, with a teasing smile.

I was relieved that he had returned to his usual cheerful self, and I was determined to enjoy my evening with him, casting aside the dark thoughts that had plagued me since Abe’s visit. Jonathan and I had invented a game of sorts every time we attended a society ball. We would keep track of how many times someone dropped the name of a royal or aristocrat in order to impress the listener, how many times someone would fail some arbitrary rule of etiquette, how many times someone looked quietly horrified when they learned that I was the daughter of Robert Murray and never had an official coming out. Our game made balls more tolerable, if not somewhat enjoyable.

The carriage slowed to a crawl as it joined a slew of other carriages approaching the Langham, a sprawling beehive of a building that dominated the narrow street it occupied. Our carriage pulled to a complete stop near the crowded entrance of the hotel, and after our driver opened the door for us, we joined the stream of guests that flooded through the grand entrance and into the massive gilded lobby, which was illuminated with the glare of electric lights. We continued through the lobby with the other guests, reaching the cloak and hat rooms.

As Jonathan headed towards the hat room, I entered the cloakroom. The room was a sea of color and fabric as the female guests took off their cloaks and handed them off to patiently waiting maids. After I handed my own cloak off to a shy young maid, I heard my whispered name and felt several pairs of eyes on me.

I turned, spotting a group of women hovering by the exit. They stopped whispering amongst themselves when I turned, staring at me with open disdain. I recognized the woman who seemed to be their default leader, a sour-faced blonde dressed in an extravagant gown of pale lavender silk.

I had encountered Jane Newton at several society functions. Like Mary, her dislike of me was plain, but I suspected it was born more from jealousy than my reputation. Her family was well acquainted with the Harkers, and it was quite obvious that she had expected Jonathan to court and propose to her. The fact that he had chosen such a social outcast for his bride only added to the insult.

Taking a deep breath, I moved towards them, silently noting with pleasure their discomfort at my approach.

“I’m already acquainted with Miss Newton,” I said politely, addressing Jane’s cohorts. “I’m Mina Murray.”

The women remained stiff for a moment, but the manners that had been ingrained into each of them since birth took hold, and they stiffly gave me nods of greeting.

“It is lovely to see you again, Miss Murray,” Jane lied. “I never had the opportunity to formally congratulate you on your engagement to Mister Harker.”

“Thank you,” I returned, as she held my even gaze with her venomous one.

“May I ask you something?” she asked, taking a step forward as she dramatically lowered her voice. “Is it true that your father was Robert Murray—that Cambridge professor who went mad and died pursuing one of his theories? How terribly tragic.”

A hot burst of rage exploded in my chest at her words, and I clenched my hands into fists at my sides. Jane’s lips curled into a cheap imitation of a sympathetic smile, and the women around her could barely stifle their own smug smiles. I knew Jane was purposefully trying to upset me; she knew exactly who my father was.

“My fiancé has spoken of you many times, Miss Newton,” I said calmly, deciding not to acknowledge her cruel inquiry. “He described you as a rather vapid childhood friend of his who loved him deeply. He told me he only felt pity for you.”

This time, I had to suppress a smile of pleasure as Jane’s eyes snapped with fury, her smile freezing on her face. Her friends were silent with shock at my insult.

“It was a pleasure, Miss Newton. I will share your well wishes with my fiancé. We will send out wedding invitations quite soon. I look forward to seeing you at our wedding.”

I gave them a bright smile before turning to leave the cloakroom. As satisfying as it was to deliver the final verbal blow, her words about Father still stung, and I needed a moment to calm myself before stepping back out into the corridor.

I was still shaken as I moved towards the entrance of the hat room to rejoin Jonathan. Father had become estranged from the wealthy family he was born into when he opted to pursue a life of science rather than work in the family business of finance, and I had only met his extended family on several occasions. He had made an active choice to not participate in society events, finding them stuffy and austere, and I never had my formal coming out. He didn’t have many close friends when he died, and there had been very little mourning from society after his death.

I was no stranger to the rumors that ran rampant regarding his mysterious death in Transylvania, and it should have been no surprise to me that the society he shunned in life had turned its back on him in death. But the general apathy regarding his death still stung.

And now, a tiny voice in the back of my head mocked, you’ve become a part of the society that he so despised.

I ignored the thought, and managed a bright smile when Jonathan stepped out of the hat room, taking my arm to escort me towards the ballroom. I knew if I told Jonathan about Jane’s insult he would insist on confronting her, and I didn’t want her to mar our entire evening.

We entered the ballroom, where several ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling in a long row, flooding the ballroom with dazzling electric light. Gold-edged pillars lined the walls, and the floor-to-ceiling windows were draped with curtains of fine gold gossamer to match the grandeur of the pillars. The tables, draped with tablecloths of intricate lace, were pushed to the side, allowing ample room for the guests to mingle and dance, and some guests had already begun to move towards the dance floor. At the far end of the room, an orchestra played the opening strains for the first dance of the evening, a waltz.

After we made brief introductions with some of the guests, Jonathan led me out onto the dance floor. As we danced, I focused only on Jonathan, and all thoughts of Jane Newton soon faded away. The orchestra switched to a quadrille, and we reluctantly released each other to dance with other couples. By the end of the third dance, Jonathan took my arm and we moved towards the tables on the far edges of the ballroom for a break.

“I counted three,” Jonathan said in a low voice, as we took our seats. “The wife of the barrister I danced with mentioned that she had her coming out at the queen’s court—three times.”

“You’re already ahead of me,” I replied with mock disappointment. “My dance partners were perfectly mute. That is hardly fair.”

“The night has just begun, darling. There are plenty of other dances,” Jonathan said with a smile. Disregarding all rules about public displays of affection, he lifted my gloved hand to his lips and placed a kiss on my wrist.

“Jonathan?”

Flushing, I placed my hand back in my lap, looking up as Peter Hawkins approached us, his anxious eyes focused only on Jonathan.

“I apologize for my interruption, but there’s an urgent manner I need to discuss with you,” Peter said, giving us both an apologetic smile before his eyes once again settled on Jonathan. “You should find a gentleman to dance with your fiancée.”

“If anyone asks me to dance, I will happily oblige him,” I said quickly, though I dreaded the thought of being stuck in conversation with some stuffy barrister.

“I’ll return presently,” Jonathan said, squeezing my hand before getting to his feet to leave with Peter.

I studied them with mild concern as they left, wondering what Peter wanted to discuss so urgently at this hour. The orchestra switched back to a waltz, and I relaxed in my seat as the couples on the dance floor moved into formation.

A tall male figure suddenly appeared in front of me, and I nervously looked up, expecting to see said stuffy barrister.

I froze when I saw who stood before me. Looking uncomfortable in his long black waistcoat, Abe extended a hand towards me, his expression quietly exigent.

“May I have the pleasure of this dance?”

I stared at Abe in disbelief. Once my initial shock passed over his second abrupt appearance, I instinctively looked past him at Jonathan’s retreating form. He was still walking with Peter towards the lobby, deep in discussion, without a glance back.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed. “I told you—”

“People are beginning to stare, Mina. You have not given me a response,” Abe replied, illustrating his point by extending his hand further.

I took a hasty look around. Several nearby guests were taking in our interaction with blatant interest. Across the room, Jane Newton was looking back and forth between me and Abe with narrowed eyes. I knew that I could not make a scene. Not here.

I grudgingly accepted his hand, allowing him to escort me to the dance floor. I stiffened as he pulled me close, once again acutely aware of his body so close to mine. We began to dance, and I forced a cordial smile for the sake of any curious onlookers.

“I don’t know what you expect from me,” I said in a low tone, still smiling. “If there is some sort of threat in London, let Scotland Yard handle it.”

“You would not let me finish yesterday. The Ripper murders—it is not just prostitutes or even the poor who are being murdered or going missing.” Abe’s voice was as low as mine, a polite smile also pinned on his face, belying the urgency of his tone and the darkness of his words. “Upper-class men and women are being violently murdered as well, in neighborhoods like Mayfair and Saint James. Even in areas outside of London—Hertfordshire, Kent, Surrey. Over a dozen in the past month alone.”

The smile froze on my face, and a chill spread through me as I stared at him with both horror and incredulity.

“Scotland Yard wants the public to believe the Ripper only targets prostitutes in Whitechapel. If the public knew that respectable people were being murdered as well, the panic would be immeasurable. The police worked with the press to sensationalize the prostitute murders to draw attention away from what was—is—happening.”

“How do you know this?” I whispered.

“Inspector Seward, my friend and contact at Scotland Yard. Jack believes that there is more than one killer at large in London. I agree with him, but I do not think that they are human.”

The music switched once again to a quadrille, but I remained rooted to the spot, my heart thundering wildly in my chest as I stared at Abe. He stepped forward, his lips close to my ear now, ensuring that I was the only one who could hear his next words.

“I believe that what happened to Arthur’s wife and the Ripper murders are linked by the creature we encountered in Transylvania. I believe it is here in London.”

5

Creatures Of Myth And Nightmare

As Abe’s words sunk in, the memories of what I had seen in Transylvania flooded my mind’s eye. The rumors of bodies drained of blood. The haunted faces of the villagers as they insisted that the strigoi walked among them. My father as he lay dead in that forest clearing, eyes permanently frozen wide in terror.

I took a faltering step back from Abe, shaking my head, as if to rid myself of the images. It could not be. Vampires were creatures of myth and nightmare; creatures who did not exist. Could not exist. The thought that they were real and here in London filled me with overwhelming terror.

Around us, the other guests had begun to dance the quadrille, casting us with curious looks. I could only imagine the gossip that would spread at the small scene Abe and I were making, but I found that I did not care. I took another step back from Abe, who was studying me with both concern and continued urgency.

“I–I need air,” I stammered, turning to stumble blindly away through the crowd.

All sense of decorum forgotten, I pushed through the guests, ignoring their startled cries as I made my way off the crowded dance floor, weaving past the cluster of tables until I reached the rear balcony.

To my great relief it was empty, and I breathed in the refreshing, cool night air. I made my way to the rails of the balcony and leaned heavily against them. I heard Abe’s footfalls behind me, and drew another wavering breath before turning around to face him.

He stopped several feet away. I could tell that he was desperate to continue, but he remained silent, waiting for me to speak.

“Why?” I asked. “If . . . if you believe this to be true, why would such creatures be here in London, targeting the upper-classes? Or the poor?”

“I do not know.” Abe looked utterly baffled as he shook his head. “But I do know that similar murders and disappearances are happening in cities all around Europe—Paris, Berlin, Amsterdam. You are the only other person I know who’s seen what I have seen. I have told Seward everything, and based on what he has seen, he believes me. But he would not dare bring up my theory to his colleagues. They would have us both committed.”

“I still don’t know how you expect me to help you. If vamp—if such creatures truly exist and are here in London, then I have no idea why. Surely, you’ve heard the rumors about my father? Even if I did come forward with what I saw in Transylvania, everyone would assume I’ve gone mad as well.”

“You have more insight than you realize. At least speak to Jack and tell him what you saw. You do not have to detail what happened to your father, if that is what concerns you. He is already aware. You can help with—”

“No,” I interrupted, fervently shaking my head. “I’ve already told you—I’m no longer a part of any of this and I can’t help you. Please just leave me be.”

I started to move past him to head back inside; but Abe stood firmly in my path.

“Abe, I insist that you—”

“Just answer me this one question, Mina,” he interrupted. His voice had fallen flat, the desperation and urgency now gone. I studied him. His eyes were now blank, his expression guarded.

“Only if you give me your word that you will leave me be,” I said, disconcerted by his sudden change of tone.

“You have it. I will not bother you again.”

“All right,” I said warily. “What is it?”

“Do you love him?”

It was such an abrupt change from what we’d been discussing that I was momentarily taken aback. Abe was no longer looking directly at me; instead, he was focused on some arbitrary point past my shoulder. I knew that he was trying to appear neutral, though he could not hide the vulnerability in his eyes.

“Yes,” I replied, without hesitation. Even though I could still feel the traces of love I’d once harbored for Abe as I stood across from him now, I didn’t doubt my love for Jonathan. With all that had happened the past few years, my feelings for him had become a stabilizing force that helped keep me out of the loop of constant grief that once plagued me. Yet a small stab of guilt pinched me at the admission, though there was no reason for it.

Abe nodded stiffly, his eyes betraying nothing. Still not looking at me, he took a step back, clearing the way for my exit.

I hesitated a moment before taking my leave, an odd sense of regret sweeping over me as I did so. I forced myself to keep walking without looking back, entering the ballroom to head back towards my seat.

My steps faltered when I saw Jonathan was already standing by my empty seat with a suspicious frown. His eyes shifted to look past me, and as I turned, I saw Abe exiting the balcony as well, his head low as he moved towards the lobby.

I turned back towards Jonathan, anxious. How many society rules had I broken by spending time on the balcony alone with a man who was not my fiancé? Abe’s words had so overwhelmed me that the rules of social propriety I had trained myself to follow had fallen away. The balcony was in clear view of where Jonathan now stood. Had he seen our heated exchange?

I reached Jonathan, opening my mouth to explain, but before I could speak, he took my arm and escorted me to the dance floor. The orchestra was playing another waltz, and he pulled me into his arms, his eyes settling on me without their usual warmth.

“Who was that?” he asked bluntly.

“Abraham Van Helsing. I’ve mentioned him. My—my father’s former student,” I replied, hating how guilty I sounded.

“The discussion seems to have upset you. What was it about?” he pressed, his tone edged with suspicion.

“He wants my help with something. Something from the past.”

Jonathan stared at me for a disconcertingly long moment, as if trying to ascertain the truth of my words.

“Mina,” he said finally, continuing to probe my eyes with his. “Who exactly is Van Helsing to you? More than just your father’s student, I assume?”

I faltered the steps of the waltz and nearly stumbled. Jonathan kept me steady, continuing to effortlessly swirl me around as he awaited my response.

I didn’t want to discuss my romantic past with Abe here, but Jonathan’s strained countenance demanded an immediate answer. I silently cursed myself for not telling him about Abe’s reappearance last night, and Abe himself for showing up and unraveling the life I had slowly begun to put back together.

“He was Father’s student,” I replied. “But he was also . . . we were together. Before Father died. We were briefly engaged.”

Jonathan expelled a sharp breath, but he didn’t look as shocked as I thought he’d be. He must have already surmised the romantic nature of our relationship, and merely wanted me to confirm it.

“It was of little importance,” I continued, trying to give him a reassuring smile. “It was years ago when I traveled with Father. I was so very young, and it never officially—”

“I’d already guessed. The way you two looked at each other on the balcony . . .” Jonathan said, his eyes shadowing. “I suppose I did not want to know,” he added, trying to give me a wry smile, but it came off as pained instead.

“Jonathan, that relationship is in my past. You must know that.”

“I do know,” he conceded, softening as he gave me a gentle smile.

The waltz ended, and as Jonathan escorted me back to our seats, I relaxed. I had worried that Abe’s appearance would ruin our evening, but Jonathan seemed calmer now.

Yet my ease was short-lived. Once we took our seats, Jonathan studied me for a long moment before he spoke.

“Forgive me my jealousy, but I must ask. Is this the first time you’ve seen Van Helsing?” he asked. “Since your engagement ended?”

I stiffened. Jonathan awaited my response, but I sensed that he already knew the answer. For a moment, I debated lying to him, but it was something my conscience wouldn’t allow. I had already hidden too much from him. Once again, I cursed myself for not telling him of Abe’s visit sooner.

“No,” I replied, and Jonathan looked away from me. I tried to take his hand, but he pulled it out of my reach. “He came to see me yesterday after school. I assure you it’s not what you’re thinking. It—it’s about the issue he wants my help with. Something that I don’t want to be a part of.”

“What does he want your help with?”

Jonathan was still not looking at me, instead staring straight ahead at the dance floor.

I clenched my hands in my lap. What would he think of me if I told him of vampires? How could I possibly explain what had happened in Transylvania, when I could hardly understand it myself? He would think I was mad. I would lose him, and I could not lose him. I had suffered more than enough loss for a lifetime.

“It’s difficult to explain,” I stammered. Once again, I reached for his hand. To my relief, he didn’t pull away. “Please, Jonathan. All of that is in the past. I won’t be seeing him again. Let’s try to enjoy the rest of our—”

“There is so much you haven’t told me. We are to be wed, yet you keep so much of yourself hidden from me,” Jonathan spat, finally turning to look at me, his hazel eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and anger. “I imagine your former fiancé knows more about you than I ever have,” he added coldly.

“That’s not true,” I protested. Other guests were surreptitiously looking our way now. I drew a breath to calm myself, lowering my voice. “I prefer to leave my past behind me because it’s painful . . . and it’s no longer of any importance.”

Jonathan got to his feet, forcing me to release my hand from his. When he looked down at me, his eyes were no longer filled with anger, only sadness.

“Have Stanley escort you back to Highgate. I’ll take a cab.”

“Jonathan, no. Let me come with you,” I pleaded, stumbling to my feet.

Jonathan had already turned on his heel to disappear into the swirling crowds of the ballroom. Desperate, I hurried after him, his name on my lips, when the ballroom suddenly plunged into darkness.

All around me, the guests’ startled gasps and cries filled the ballroom. I halted, temporarily disoriented as my eyes adjusted to the sudden dark. I was certain that the lights would come back on shortly, but something felt wrong.

Dim moonlight filtered in through the windows, providing only faint illumination. I could now vaguely make out several tall figures moving through the disconcerted crowd. As I stood frozen to the spot, I felt a coldness on my skin—the same coldness I had felt at the cemetery when I’d sensed being watched.

I watched in horrified silence as the figures, who I could now tell were three men and one woman, moved through the ballroom so quickly that they seemed to vanish into thin air and reappear in a different place.

Dread stirred in the pit of my stomach as I recalled the words of the villagers in Transylvania. The strigoi vanish and reappear. They move quickly. The darkness makes them strong.

“No,” I whispered.

It was impossible. It could not be.

I lurched forward, panic scorching through my veins like wildfire as I began to shove my way through the guests, who were all stumbling towards the exit. I felt the same instinct that struck me in the cemetery—to flee. I needed to find Jonathan and get as far away from the Langham as possible.

But as soon as I had the thought, the screams began.

6

The Vanishing

Screams reverberated throughout the ballroom. All pretense of propriety cast aside, the guests around me pushed and shoved each other to get to the exit.

Panicked, I continued to force my way through the thick sea of bodies, searching desperately for any sign of Jonathan. I prayed that he had already left, but I was halfway across the ballroom when I spotted him on the far opposite side, next to one of the windows. He was standing stock still, staring in rapt attention at an unnaturally tall man and woman who stood opposite him.

“Jonathan!” I shouted. My cry echoed throughout the ballroom, louder than any of the screams that punctuated the chaos. Jonathan remained rooted to the spot, his focus centered on the two people before him. They both went still at my cry, turning to look at me.

I felt that familiar coldness settle over me as their gazes locked with mine. The man looked like an alabaster statue come to life, with hair as black as night, a long pale face, thin lips and full brows. The woman was as light as her companion dark, with a stark beauty that was almost unnatural. A curtain of long blonde waves framed her exquisitely carved features, and her vivid green eyes seemed to glow in the dim light.

Though I was certain I had never seen the man before, there was something oddly familiar about him, and I thought I saw a brief glimpse of recognition flare in his black eyes as they settled on me. They both turned back to face Jonathan, who still stood motionless, as if he were in a trance. Their lips moved as they spoke to him in low tones, and my body went rigid with shock when I saw . . . fangs. Fangs protruding from their rows of angular teeth.

I had seen such fangs before, on the creature that hovered over Father’s body that night, sharpened fangs that seemed to glint in the moonlight. I had convinced myself that it was a trick of the light; I had not seen them clearly, I had been in terrible shock—anything to explain away what I’d actually seen.

But standing here now, I could not deny the sight of them. And I knew with a sudden and terrifying certainty that they were creatures I had refused to believe existed . . . did not want to believe existed.

The intruders were vampires.

The creature we encountered in Transylvania. I believe it is here in London, Abe had whispered, only moments before.

Fear propelled me out of my shocked stillness, and I stumbled forward, my heart pounding so powerfully that it seemed to rattle my bones. I didn’t know why they were here, I just had to get Jonathan away from them.

As I shoved through the crowd, I saw the vampires step closer to my transfixed fiancé, almost seeming to wrap themselves around him, until he was hidden from my view.

“JONATHAN!” I screamed.

I was now only ten yards away from them, but it seemed as if there were a vast ocean between us, and the fleeing guests continued to impede my forward progress.

The male vampire turned to give me a look that gleamed with challenge, and I watched with dazed horror as the vampires and Jonathan vanished before my eyes. The space where they’d just stood was now empty.

I froze, unable to believe what I had just seen. The vanishing was another echo of that gruesome night in Transylvania. I scanned the area near the window and the entire ballroom for any sign of Jonathan and the vampires as the guests around me continued to scramble out of the emptying ballroom. In the chaos, no one else seemed to notice Jonathan and the vampires’ disappearance.

The ballroom lights flickered back on, flooding the room with glaring light. I stumbled forward, reaching the spot where Jonathan had just stood. I whirled, searching the ballroom for any sign of him, but only a few stupefied guests remained.

I turned to search the streets outside the window, now dense with a heavy fog. Amidst the cluster of carriages in front of the Langham, I noticed two distinct black landau carriages—larger and finer in appearance than even the most grandiose upper-class London carriage—made of wrought iron and edged with gold trim.

The fog partially cleared, and I saw that velvet curtains were drawn over the glass windows of both carriages, but the left door of one was slightly open. Jonathan sat inside with several other women I did not recognize, looking dazed and out of sorts.

I felt a burst of hope at the sight of him. As if sensing my gaze, Jonathan looked up and met my eyes, blinking in disorientation. Before I could cry out to him, some invisible force slammed the door shut, and both carriages sped away.

“Mina!”

I turned and saw Abe hurrying towards me, his face pale with relief. Shaking, I stepped forward to grip his shoulders.

“Jonathan’s been abducted—he’s in a carriage that just left. Do you have a horse?”

I was thankful that he didn’t question me. He grabbed my hand, leading me towards the rear exit of the ballroom.

“I took a cab here, but there are horses in the stable yard at the back,” he said. “Come.”

We broke into a run, dashing through the now empty ballroom towards the exit. Though a multitude of panicked questions raced through my mind over what I’d just witnessed, I kept them at bay. I needed to focus on getting Jonathan back while there was still time; my questions could be answered later.

In the rear of the Langham, we found unattended horses tethered in the stable yard. Their masters had no doubt heard the ruckus and ran inside to see what was happening.

We untethered two horses and mounted them to race out of the stable yard.

“It was two landau carriages—they went down Regent Street!” I shouted to Abe, gripping the reins of my horse.

As we rode away from the Langham and towards Regent Street, the crisp night air pricked at my skin, and the damp wispy fog swirled around us like thin ghostly fingers. At this late hour, there weren’t many carriages out, and the distinctive black carriage that had taken Jonathan away was nowhere in sight. We were silent as we raced down the fog-encased street towards Whitehall, and it was only the sound of my thundering heartbeat, our horses’ hooves pounding on the ground, and the murmur of voices from startled passersby that accompanied us.

Abe rode at my side, his eyes trained on the street ahead. The rigid set of his shoulders was the only indication of his tension. My knuckles were white from gripping the reins in my trembling hands, and a haze of panic clouded my mind. I could only hope we were going in the right direction.

Regent Street soon turned into Whitehall, and hope seared my chest as I spotted the distinct black carriages only fifty yards ahead, clamoring forward at a great speed.

“There they are!” I cried, kicking the sides of my horse to urge him into a faster gallop, and I soon left Abe behind.

I’m right behind you, Jonathan, I thought desperately, keeping my eyes trained on the carriages as I sped forward.

The carriages turned onto Westminster Bridge, and I followed suit. The gothic spires of Westminster rose from the fog that surrounded the bridge, a silent spectator to my chase. I was getting closer to the carriages now, swiftly closing the gap between us.

But just as the carriages reached the midway point of the bridge, they were swallowed up by an even thicker fog that seemed to rise up out of nowhere, as if it had been conjured, and I could no longer make them out.

I stilled with horror as a deeply rich male voice rose from the silence, wrapping around me in a dark whisper.

“Ghyslaine . . . what you have tried to destroy will be made whole once more.”

I halted at the strange words, pulling back on the reins. My horse reared back in surprise, neighing in protest and nearly throwing me from the saddle. I managed to maintain my grip on the reins as I looked around in despair. The voice had seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, yet I was completely alone on the bridge. As the thick fog dissipated, the two black carriages were nowhere to be seen.

They had vanished . . . along with Jonathan.

* * *

“There were four of them, I believe. And the carriages appeared aristocratic. They didn’t look like the others that were gathered,” I said, desperate.

I was back in the ballroom of the Langham, standing opposite an incredulous looking inspector from Scotland Yard. When Abe had caught up to me on Westminster Bridge, I was staring off in a numb daze at the foggy horizon where the carriage had vanished, and I had not protested when he told me that we should return to the Langham.

We made our way back in silence, the night’s events swirling about in my mind. The vampires seeming to wrap themselves around Jonathan, the male vampire’s cold gaze on me in the darkness, the black carriages vanishing in the fog, the whispered voice on the bridge. I hadn’t told Abe about the voice I heard on the bridge. I wasn’t even sure it had been a voice, or if I’d gone temporarily mad from all that had occurred.

When we arrived back at the Langham, the guests who remained had spilled out onto the streets outside of the hotel, murmuring heatedly amongst themselves. Curious onlookers now surrounded the building, clogging the narrow streets. Several Scotland Yard inspectors and police officers had arrived, and were taking formal reports and interviewing witnesses about the electrical outage and the chaos that followed. After we returned our horses to their incensed masters with hasty apologies, we approached one of the inspectors.

I was now trying to explain what had happened to Jonathan, careful to omit the less believable parts of my story. But the inspector still studied me with abject disbelief, his eyes periodically straying to Abe, as if for verification. But Abe remained oddly and infuriatingly silent.

“You are saying these carriages headed across Westminster Bridge,” the inspector said.

“Yes,” I said. “I–I couldn’t keep track of them once they crossed. But they may still be in London, if—”

“There are, at any time in London, thousands of carriages on the street, Miss Murray,” the inspector said. “None of the waiting carriage drivers saw anything out of the ordinary.”

“Well, I saw something out of the ordinary,” I snapped, blinking back tears of frustration. “And now my fiancé is missing. What are you—”

“Miss Murray, you are being hysterical. There was a malfunction with the electricity and many were separated in the chaos. We are currently conducting a search for guests who are unaccounted for, including your fiancé. If we do not locate Mister Harker—”

“You won’t locate him, because he’s been taken!” I cried. I turned to Abe. “Abe, please. Tell him.”

“Mina,” Abe said gently, addressing me but giving the inspector an apologetic smile. “It has been a long night. It will not help Jonathan at all if you drive yourself mad with worry. Now, I am certain that he is at a nearby tavern. Let me escort you home. Thank you for your time, Inspector.”

I glared at him in angry disbelief as the inspector tipped his hat, giving me a condescending smile before walking away.

“Why did you do that?” I asked in furious disbelief. “You were practically mute. You saw everything that happened tonight. You were the one who—”

“He was not going to believe you no matter what you said. I needed you to see that for yourself. We cannot rely on the authorities. Jack is the only policeman who will believe you.” He studied me intently before lowering his voice. “Am I correct in my assumption that you do accept what we are dealing with?”

He did not need to say the word ‘vampire’ for me to know what he was referring to. I closed my eyes, thinking of the incredulity in the inspector’s eyes as I told him what happened to Jonathan. It was as familiar to me as the incredulity in the eyes of the authorities in Transylvania when I’d desperately tried to explain how Father died. I could only imagine what he would have said if I told him all that I’d actually seen tonight.

Abe was right. We could not rely on the authorities. We were on our own. Perhaps a part of me had known all along that Abe was right about vampires existing and being here in London. I had desperately wanted it not to be true, for it would force me to accept other horrible truths. But it was like a veil had been lifted, and I could not deny what I had seen tonight, nor in that forest in Transylvania three years ago. Not anymore.

A sudden wave of determination pulled me from the horrified daze I’d been in since watching Jonathan vanish before my eyes. I would not lose him as I had lost my father, nor envelop myself in denial as I’d done for the last three years. I would do whatever it took to save him.

When I opened my eyes, I said, “I’m going after Jonathan. I must.”

“Then you need to come with me,” Abe said, not at all surprised by my statement as he extended his hand. “Let me help you. I believe I have a way of finding out where he is.”

I took Abe’s hand, and together we hurried out of the ballroom.

7

Lucy

Heavy sheets of rain fell from the sky as Abe and I raced past the fleeing villagers towards the forest that lay at the village’s edge. Gripping my kukri, I scanned the trees around us as we entered the forest, shouting for my father.

I froze when I heard an agonized cry from the depths of the forest ahead. It was his voice. I had never heard such a sound from him.

No, I thought in agony. No.

We dashed forward, the muddy forest floor slowing our progress. I continued to search our surroundings for any sign of my father, my voice raw with trepidation as I continued to shout for him.

And then . . . I saw it. I stopped in my tracks, a tidal wave of horror rising in my stomach at the sight before me.

In a clearing yards ahead, there was a figure hunched over the prostrated form of my father. At this distance, and from the way the figure was crouched, I could not tell whether it was man or beast.

I started to scramble forward, but a sudden paralysis settled over me, and I could not move. At my side, Abe was frozen in place as well. I struggled to release myself from the mysterious paralysis that held me, but its force was too great.

The figure turned and in the darkness and rain, I could only make out a flash of unnaturally long and sharp teeth and the feel of a frosty stare on my skin.

With an unnatural hiss, the creature vanished, and I was free of the paralysis. I rushed forward, filled with panic and dread, Father’s name on my lips in a desperate cry.

I stumbled to my knees when I reached his still form. A pool of blood drenched the mud around his body, and his lifeless eyes, forever frozen wide, stared at me from what remained of his face. An agonized moan swelled from some place deep, and it emerged from my lips in a grief stricken scream.

“Mina?”

I blinked, forced out of the dark memory by Abe’s voice. I was seated next to Abe in the back of a cab, and he was looking at me with a worried frown.

Abe had informed me that we were going to the home of Arthur Holmwood, the friend who summoned him to London. Inspector Seward was already there. We had not spoken as the cab rattled through the streets, and that was when the long-buried memory of Father’s death sprang to life.

I looked past Abe out the window. The cab had arrived at a large Mayfair town home. I gave Abe a brief nod to indicate that I was all right, and we stepped out. Abe didn’t inquire about my thoughts as we approached the front door of Arthur’s home, though I could feel his fretful scrutiny of my expression.

Moments later, I stood in Arthur’s spacious drawing room, opposite Inspector Jack Seward. Seward had hair the color of burnished copper and brown eyes that were shadowed with fatigue. Even though he wore no uniform, he had the look of a policeman—an inherent inquisitiveness paired with wary suspicion seemed to be his default expression. His hair was haphazardly spiked, as if he had repeatedly raked his hand through it, and he was pacing the room when we entered. He looked startled to see me, taking in my ball gown, and gave me a nod when Abe introduced us.

“Miss Murray,” he said politely, before his questioning gaze slid to Abe. “You convinced her?”

Abe quickly filled him in on the events of the evening. When he was finished, Seward sank down into an armchair, burying his face in his hands. When he finally looked up, his face was ashen.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered. He flushed, looking at me and muttering a hasty apology before returning his attention to Abe. “On the night that I’m not on duty. How many were taken?”

“It is my hope that you can find that out from your colleagues. If we know exactly who else besides Jonathan was taken, then we could perhaps deduce why they were taken—process of elimination, anything they had in common—perhaps even some sort of connection. But for the present, I am going to speak with Lucy.”

“Lucy?” Seward breathed. “She can’t—”

“Mina, please follow me,” Abe interrupted, ignoring Seward.

Seward’s mouth tightened, but he fell silent. Abe left the drawing room, gesturing for me to follow.

He led me and an uncertain Seward down the long hallway outside the drawing room to a door, which I assumed led to the cellar. Abe swung open the door, reaching for a lantern that rested by the entrance before descending down the stairs. The lantern only provided slight illumination for the pitch-black cellar, and a shiver of unease went through me as we entered. As my eyes struggled to adjust to the dark, I heard a soft voice.

“Abraham?”

A man stepped out from the shadows, holding up a lantern of his own. He had blonde hair and pale blue eyes that blinked at Abe from behind a pair of spectacles. He barely seemed to notice mine and Seward’s presence, his attention focused entirely on Abe.

“Has there been any change, Arthur?” Abe queried, stepping forward.

“It has gotten worse, if possible,” Arthur replied, his voice quavering. Abe stepped forward to rest his hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

“I am sorry, you know I am. But something has happened at the Langham. The creatures that did this to her have abducted several people, including my friend’s fiancé,” he said, gesturing to me. Arthur’s eyes found mine in the soft light of the lantern, and I saw a faint glimmer of sympathy in his eyes. “I need to speak to Lucy—to try to communicate with the one who did this to her.”

I looked back and forth between them, my confusion growing. Abe wanted to communicate through Lucy?

Arthur gave his consent with a mere jerk of his head. Abe turned to me, as if sensing my unasked question, and gestured for me to follow him further into the cellar. Arthur hung behind as Seward and I continued forward, trailing Abe towards a human-sized cage in the far rear of the cellar.

I halted at the sight of it, panic skittering through me as inhuman growls erupted from the cage. Abe lifted his lantern, illuminating what was inside, and my heart nearly stopped at the sight.

An eerily pale woman was crouched inside, her talon-like fingers wrapped around the cage bars. Her thin, papery skin was pulled taut over her bones, and the eyes that peered at us beneath a curtain of long stringy brown hair seemed to shift from a deep brown to an unnatural black. She emitted another growl, and I saw that her two front incisors were elongated into . . . fangs.

My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a cry.

“She is still human, but in the midst of a transformative process. A fortnight ago, she and Arthur got into a terrible row. She left and went missing for two days. Arthur searched for her to no avail. When she returned home, she was different.”

“Different how?” I whispered.

“At first . . . she did not speak,” Arthur’s strained voice replied, from behind me. I turned to face him as he approached. His eyes were haunted, trained on Lucy as he spoke.

“She was dangerously pale. Her eyes were no longer her own. They would shift in color from brown to black. She did not speak for hours, and when she did, it was in growls. She did not remember where she had been, or what had happened to her. She would only speak to tell me how thirsty she was. I took her to the doctor, but she . . . she attacked him. She almost gauged out his throat. I had to beg the doctor to keep his silence. I knew the police would take her to an institution if he reported her. I brought her back home and hid her away. I did not know what was happening to her—only that it was unnatural.”

A chill swept over me as Arthur spoke, and I briefly met Abe’s eyes. We had heard similar stories in the Transylvanian countryside.

“It is my belief that a vampire did this to her,” Abe said, turning to face me. “I am still uncertain as to how the transformation process works. From lore it begins with a bite, and Lucy has two puncture wounds on the side of her neck—similar to wounds on the bodies drained of blood that Jack has found during his murder investigations. I do not know how many vampires are in London, but something tells me that they are working together—I will explain why later. If that is so, the vampire who bit Lucy may have some connection to the abductions at the Langham. I want to attempt to communicate with it.”

Now I understood Seward’s incredulity. I stared at him with disbelief of my own.

“How?” I breathed.

“Just keep your eyes on me. I need everyone to stay back.”

After a moment of hesitation, I took a step back, along with Seward. Arthur remained where he was, his sad eyes trained on the creature that had been his wife. Abe gave him a long look, and Arthur responded with a nod.

Abe stepped towards the cage, kneeling down opposite her. I felt a strong urgency to warn him as her black eyes settled on him. Abe took out a silver locket from his pocket; it glinted in the dimness of the cellar as he held it up before her. Her gaze slid from his face to the locket, suddenly transfixed. She went very still, her ragged breathing slowing to a calm and steady rhythm. He was hypnotizing her.

“Who are you?” Abe asked her, his voice very gentle now, as if he were speaking to a small child.

“No one,” Lucy replied, her voice throatily seductive for such a frail and wild looking woman, her eyes still trained on the locket. “Every one.”

“Your kind came to the ballroom at the Langham Hotel tonight,” Abe continued, undeterred by her cryptic response. “There were four of you. You took people, including a man named Jonathan Harker. Why? Where are you taking him?”

I stiffened, a sliver of hope emerging from beneath my shock. Could it be possible? Could he somehow communicate with the vampire who took Jonathan . . . through Lucy?

Lucy expelled a long sigh, her eyes distant as she continued to focus on the locket. She didn’t respond, and Abe spoke again, his tone sharper this time.

“Where are you taking him?”

Lucy’s eyes left the locket, rising to meet his, and I let out a soft gasp as the whites of her eyes went completely black. But Abe did not flinch.

“We need them,” she said softly in reply.

I pressed my hands to my mouth to prevent myself from crying out. I wanted to lurch forward and shake her, to get more answers, but I forced myself to remain still.

“Why?” Abe demanded. “Where are you taking them?”

“One of the old safe places,” she murmured, and a fond smile touched her lips. “Our old home in the Carpathians. A fortress impossible to enter.”

“The Carpathians?” Abe echoed. “Transylvania? Is that where you are taking him? Why him?”

But Lucy fell silent once more, her eyes glazing over as she stared past Abe’s shoulder at nothing.

I was no longer able to hold myself back. If she somehow knew where Jonathan was, I had to find out. I stumbled forward, kneeling down in front of the cage so that I was at her level, wrapping my hands around the bars. I could feel Abe go rigid at my side, but I no longer felt fear as she turned her focus towards me—only desperation.

“Where is Jonathan?” I demanded, desperate. “Tell me where—”

With a ferocious hiss, Lucy lunged at the bars, her fangs bared. Abe yanked me back just as the tips of her fangs pierced the delicate skin of my left forefinger. I stumbled back, clutching my bleeding finger, watching in disgust as she eagerly licked up the remnants of my blood from her lips.

As her black eyes met mine, I saw a brief flicker of recognition, similar to the one I had seen from the male vampire at the ball. But her eyes suddenly went hazy and unfocused. She curled up on the floor of the cage, wrapping her arms around herself, trembling violently, as if she were having a seizure.

Arthur, who had completely frozen during her outburst, came to life and raced towards the cage. He kneeled down, looking both panicked and hopeful.

“Lucy!” he shouted. “Lucy, my angel, are you back? Is that you?”

She slowly looked up, her eyes wide and frightened, their color now a natural brown. She looked scared, vulnerable, and . . . human.

“Arthur?” she whispered.

8

Transylvania

“How did you do that?” I asked Abe, thoroughly shaken.

We were now gathered in Arthur’s large but cramped study. Abe had administered the confused and increasingly frantic Lucy a sedative, while Arthur wrapped her in blankets before reluctantly locking the cage door and leading us out of the cellar.

I stood opposite Abe, rattled by what I had seen him do. Arthur had just left the room to bring us tea, while Seward quietly stood in front of the fireplace, his eyes troubled as he gazed into its leaping flames.

“After your father’s death, I started researching vampires when I returned to Amsterdam—as mad as it seemed—but I could not forget what we had seen. I needed to make sense of it. I began to analyze all of the notes we had taken from our travels in the region, including Robert’s. It was his theory that if vampires did indeed exist, they exhibited traits that were similar to wolves. As Darwin theorized that man is related to ape, Robert theorized that vampires may be related to wolves. I certainly could not experiment on an actual vampire, so I experimented on their potential relatives—wolves. In my experiments, I observed that silver has a calming effect on wolves, and it has a medicinal effect on humans. For vampires, I deduced that it would have a combined effect and potentially work as a hypnotic. When Arthur first had me examine Lucy, my silver locket instantly calmed her, and I was able to put her under hypnosis.”

I studied him, guilt battling with my awe at his experimentation. I had always admired Abe’s quiet brilliance, his ability to think in ways that most people did not.

But my guilt outweighed my awe. While Abe had spent the past three years trying to reconcile what we had seen in Transylvania, I had been in abject denial; trying to push it all away as if it had never happened.

“You were able to speak with one of those bloody vamp . . . those things through Lucy,” Seward said, aghast, as he turned to face Abe. “How’s that possible?“

“Wolves are pack animals. Pack animals have sophisticated methods of non-verbal communication—I just took it further. As vampires are outside of nature, I theorized that they must also have preternatural ways of communication, and the conclusion that I came to—”

“Telepathic communication,” I whispered, as I recalled the voice that seemed to wrap around me on Westminster Bridge.

“Yes,” Abe said, looking surprised at my completion of his thought. “It explains how they are able to coordinate such quick and strategic attacks, often in groups, like we just saw in the Langham—and as witnesses described in Transylvania. I did not know if communication through hypnosis would work on Lucy, until I tried it just now.”

Abe’s face was mildly unsettled as he took a seat in one of the chairs; his calm during his interaction with Lucy had been a facade. He was just as astonished as we were that he could communicate through her.

Arthur entered with a tray of tea, apologetically explaining that he had dismissed the servants to dissuade gossip when Lucy first began acting strangely. I accepted a cup with a polite nod, deciding that there would be no better time than now to tell them what had happened on Westminster Bridge.

“When I was chasing after the carriage on Westminster Bridge, I heard a voice. I believe it was the voice of the vampire who took Jonathan,” I said, after a brief moment of hesitation. “At first I thought I was going mad. But if you’re right, Abe, and they’re able to communicate through telepathy—”

“What did he say?” Abe interrupted, his voice strained with tension. Seward and Arthur were also regarding me with anxious eyes.

I took a breath before repeating the chilling words that were now burned into my memory.

“Ghyslaine . . . what you have tried to destroy will be made whole once more.”

Stunned silence met my words. Arthur and Seward exchanged baffled looks, while Abe’s brow furrowed with worry.

“Ghyslaine. What’s that?” Seward finally asked.

“I don’t know, but right before he took Jonathan, he looked at me with . . . recognition. As if he knew who I was. I don’t know how that’s possible.”

Abe rubbed at his temples, a gesture I recognized. He did this whenever he was deep in thought, attempting to come up with a solution to a complex problem.

“If what Lucy told us is correct, we know where they’re taking Jonathan,” I said. I needed to return the focus to Jonathan. “The Carpathian Mountains in Transylvania. That is where we must go.”

“Wait,” Seward protested, turning to Abe. “How do you know you were talking with the same creature who took Jonathan? Or that she was even talking about Transylvania? Aren’t the Carpathians massive? Lucy could’ve just been—”

“We don’t. But Transylvania is the most likely explanation,” I interrupted, before Abe could respond. “My father was killed in a Transylvanian village not far from the Carpathians, and Transylvania is where we recorded multiple witness accounts of vampires.”

“You’re suggesting that we just go to some fortress in Transylvania—of which there are many—to face creatures we know nothing about?” Seward demanded in disbelief.

While Seward was right to be hesitant and cautious, I knew we had no choice. I was determined to rescue Jonathan regardless of the danger and the odds against us, and I felt an unnerving certainty that if I didn’t go after him he would be lost forever.

“We can gather reinforcements,” I said desperately, thinking aloud. “When we last traveled through the region, we came across villagers who lost many of their own to vampire attacks. At the time, we thought they were just being superstitious, and the deaths were caused by illness or some other rational cause. But now we know better. Surely they’ll be willing to help us.”

“You still don’t know what we’re up against. An army of angry villagers against those things is not—” Seward began, frustrated. He turned to Abe, as if appealing to him for reason. “Abe, I know I’ve been hesitant in involving my colleagues at Scotland Yard, but maybe now we should—”

“You know better than anyone that we can’t go to the police,” I protested, my desperation rising. “The inspector I spoke to tonight thought I was mad—and I didn’t even tell him what I actually saw! How do you think your colleagues will react when we inform them that mythical creatures abducted my fiancé from the Langham?”

“Mina is right,” Abe said. “Your memory seems to fail you, Jack. They nearly sacked you when you first broached the possibility of the Ripper not being human—that is why you sent for me.”

“When I proposed to the doctor that what happened to Lucy is wholly unnatural,” Arthur spoke up, his voice tinged with anger. “He nearly contacted the authorities to report me. I had to assure him my grief made me unable to think rationally.”

“Then we are in agreement about the authorities,” I said, turning back towards Seward, who still looked uncertain. “Inspector Seward, you are under no obligation to come with us, but I am going to rescue my fiancé and bring him home. Mister Holmwood, do you have maps of the region?”

“Yes. Please, call me Arthur. I believe that referring to each other by our Christian names is appropriate, given the circumstances,” Arthur replied, brushing past Seward to open one of the cabinets that lined the study. Seward remained rigid, but offered no further protest as Arthur flipped through several rolled up maps before withdrawing one and bringing it to his desk, where he spread it out.

Abe and I stepped forward to examine it. The map showed Transylvania and the neighboring region of Wallachia to the south.

“This is from a surveyor friend of mine. He has been to Eastern Europe many times. Do you see there?” he asked, pointing to various triangle shaped marks on the map. “He highlighted old castles and fortresses in the region.” He tapped one particular marked spot located at the base of the Carpathian Mountain range. “This is the only fortress in this region of the mountains. It could very well be the fortress Lucy referred to.”

Dread mingled with hope as I centered my gaze on the base of the mountains in the northern part of Transylvania. The area was indeed mere kilometers from the village where Father had been killed.

“Arthur,” Abe said suddenly, looking up at his friend. “I know this may seem like a cruel and impossible demand,” he added, speaking very carefully, as if he expected an explosive response to his words. “But I think we should bring Lucy with us.”

Seward, Arthur and I stared at him in quiet disbelief.

“Why?” I asked. “She’s in no state to—”

“Lucy was possibly able to determine where they are taking Jonathan,” Abe said, addressing me but looking at Arthur. “We may be able to keep track of where these creatures are through her.”

“Dear God, Abraham,” Arthur breathed, looking ill as he stumbled back from the desk. “My wife may be afflicted with something monstrous, but she is still a human being! I will not let you use her as a compass. I have helped you thus far because you are a friend and for what you have done for us, but do not try my patience.”

Abe fell silent, and I could see a shadow of guilt in his eyes as he looked away, giving Arthur a curt nod. I sensed that had not been easy for him to ask.

But Abe was right. Lucy could help us greatly.

“Arthur,” I said, hesitant. “I–I think that Abe is right. Think of it . . . Lucy may be our only way of tracking these creatures down to destroy them. You know your wife. If she were lucid, would she want to do this? Would she be willing to help us?”

Arthur lowered his gaze, taking off his spectacles to rub his eyes, which were stormy with conflict. He moved towards the fireplace, gazing down into the flames for several long moments before turning back to face me.

“God help me,” he breathed, and his eyes now shining with tears. “My Lucy is a kind soul, and she would want to help. I–I suppose I have no choice but to give you my consent,” he whispered. “But I am coming with you as well. When we find the creature who did this to her . . . I am going to kill him.”

“Jack?” Abe asked quietly, turning to Seward, who still hovered silently in the corner of the room. “Are you with us? I will understand if you wish to remain in London.”

“I still think this plan’s damned foolhardy,” Seward said, raking a hand through his hair as he gave me an apologetic look for the oath. “But anyone outside of this room would think I’m mad—that we’re all mad fools. I’ve seen firsthand what these monsters have done to the innocent. I can no longer stand idly by while more are killed.”

The silence that followed was heavy; rife with the acknowledgement of the treacherous journey that lie ahead of us. I was not one to believe in destiny or fate, Father had always insisted that it was our choices that determined our path in life. But it seemed now as if my return to Transylvania was somehow predetermined; the path I had taken to escape what I‘d seen that horrible night had ultimately become cyclical, leading me right back and forcing me to confront the monster that dwelt there.

“Well,” I said, evenly meeting their eyes. “Let’s all be mad fools together, shall we?”

9

The Promise

Before leaving the Holmwood residence, we made hasty plans for our departure from England. The next train from Charing Cross to Dover, from which we would take a ferry to Calais, left in the late morning. Arthur was well acquainted with the captain of a cargo ship that was departing earlier from Tilbury Docks with a stop in Calais before continuing on to a port in Varna.

“The accommodations will be rather rough, but it would get us to Calais sooner,” Arthur said apologetically, looking at me.

“I don’t care about the state of our accommodations. I just want to get there as soon as possible,” I said, bristling at his focus on me, the sole woman in the room. I had traveled in plenty of ragged conditions with Father, and I never cared about luxury during travel. Especially under these circumstances.

“From Calais, we will take a train to Paris and board the Orient Express to Budapest. We can then transfer to Klausenburgh, in Transylvania,” Arthur continued. “We can disembark there and arrange for horses to travel the rest of the way.”

“That will take us through the countryside. We can gather potential reinforcements from the villages we ride through.” Abe added.

“I will send a wire to arrange for our tickets. Barring any delays, we can arrive the day after tomorrow,” Arthur said.

I nodded, hoping that would be enough time to get to Jonathan before any harm came to him. Unless it’s already too late, a dark thought whispered in my mind.

We then reviewed what weapons we already possessed. I had my kukri knives, Seward had a revolver, and Abe had an assortment of knives that he could share with us if it became necessary.

“I have a sword cane,” Arthur said hesitantly.

I looked at Arthur in surprise. He was every inch the London gentleman; I could hardly imagine him fighting anyone. From the looks on their faces, Abe and Seward shared my sentiment.

“It has been in my family for generations. My father insisted that Holmwood men be armed at all times. I once took lessons from a top fencing master,” Arthur continued, with a trace of defensiveness at our obvious surprise.

“We should be settled with weapons for now. If we need more, I have contacts along the route we are traveling,” Abe said, giving Arthur a quick nod. “But we will need more specialized weapons if we encounter more than one of those creatures along the way.”

Though I knew what we were facing, apprehension still pierced me at his words. Would I be prepared to fight one of those creatures? Even with my self-defense training, I didn’t feel confident in my abilities. But I had no choice. I would do what was necessary to rescue Jonathan.

We filed out of Arthur’s study after agreeing to meet at the entrance to the Tilbury Docks the next morning. While Seward headed to his home in Stratford, Abe left with me to collect some of my father’s journals and records from his office that could potentially be useful during our journey. He didn’t need to pack—the one bag he’d brought with him from Amsterdam had barely been touched.

As we traveled towards Highgate, unanswered questions swam through my mind. Why had Jonathan been taken? Who was that strange vampire who seemed to recognize me, and what did his words on Westminster Bridge mean? Why were vampires here in London? How many were there?

By the time we arrived at my home, I was quaking with anxiety, and Abe reached out to give my arm a comforting squeeze.

“It will do you no good to worry,” he said. “We will get him back. You need to remain focused.”

I nodded, trying to heed his words. We approached my front door, which swung open to reveal a worried Clara standing in the entrance hall.

“Mina! T’ank heavens. Where’ve you been?! I’ve been—” she began, sounding both angry and relieved. Her eyes fell on Abe and she fell silent, her countenance shifting from one of chastisement to confusion.

“Abraham?” she breathed, blinking at him in surprise. “What’re you—”

“Jonathan’s been abducted,” I interrupted, pushing past her to step inside.

My intention had been to quickly explain what happened so that we could be on our way, but saying the words aloud broke something within me, and a sudden rush of tears sprang to my eyes. Clara gasped, pulling me into the soothing warmth of her arms. The emotional barrier I had carefully erected to maintain my stoicism collapsed, and I began to weep.

“Oh, Mina,” she whispered, gently stroking my hair.

My fears for Jonathan and the journey that lay ahead came out through my tears, and I wept for several long moments as Clara rocked me in her arms.

When my tears subsided, I pulled back, wiping my eyes. Both Clara and Abe had seen me cry before, but I was still embarrassed by my outpouring of emotion. Focus on getting Jonathan back, I reminded myself. Tears will accomplish nothing.

“I–I will explain as much as I can, but we must hurry. I need help packing, and Abe needs access to Father’s study,” I said, taking a calming breath as I blinked back the remainder of my tears.

“Packin’?” Clara asked, an undercurrent of panic in her voice.

“We believe we know where he is, and we’re going after him. We leave at first light.” I replied, in a tone that did not welcome argument.

“If Jonathan’s been abducted, can’t t’ police handle it?” Clara persisted.

“Jonathan’s abductor is not human, I am afraid,” Abe said bluntly. “The police cannot help us.”

Clara’s hands flew to her mouth and her eyes went wide. I gave Abe a sharp look for his plainness, reaching out to gently grasp Clara’s arm.

“I’ll explain everything while I pack,” I repeated, my tone softer this time, but maintaining its urgency. “Please give Abe access to Father’s study. We need some of his records.” My despair of just moments earlier had shifted back to determination, and I moved toward the stairs without waiting for her reply.

Efficient as always, Clara managed to put her astonishment aside. She gave Abe access to Father’s study, made us both tea, and helped me put together a traveling bag. As I started to give her the full details of the night’s events, a knock sounded at the door.

Both Clara and I froze. I dropped the cloak I was holding and whirled towards the doorway of my bedroom, an impossible hope swelling in my chest. Could it be Jonathan? Was he still here in London—safe? Who else would be calling at this late hour?

I ran out of my room, flying down the hallway past a stunned Abe, who had appeared at the doorway of Father’s study at the sound of the knock. I could feel his and Clara’s eyes on me as I raced down the stairs, tore across the entrance hall, and flung open the door.

My hope deflated when I saw who stood there.

“Where is my son?” Mary Harker snapped, glaring at me with barely suppressed rage as she pushed past me to step into the entrance hall.

I closed the door, turning to face her. Before Abe and I had left the Langham, I’d informed the Harker carriage driver to deliver a message to Mary with a revised version of the night’s events—only mentioning the electrical outage and that Jonathan and I had been separated amidst the chaos. I made sure the message noted that I was in contact with Scotland Yard only as a precaution, as I was certain that I would locate Jonathan shortly. It was a blatant lie, but I did not have the time to deal with Mary’s outrage and hysteria.

“Did you receive my message?” I asked with stiff politeness, trying to maintain my calm.

“You mean your casual note about my only child disappearing?” Mary hissed. “Yes, I did. I immediately went to the Langham and then Scotland Yard to make my own report. Jane Newton was still at the Langham when I arrived. She told me everyone saw you and Jonathan having a row. You were dallying with another man and my son was reasonably upset,” Mary seethed, her outrage growing with every word. “He stormed off because you broke his heart.”

“That’s not true,” I said hastily, though she was not far from the truth. I silently cursed Jane Newton for her meddling. “I don’t know where Jonathan is, but—”

“We are looking for him,” Abe finished my sentence, entering the hall behind me.

I closed my eyes. I had been so focused on Mary that I didn’t hear him come down the stairs. He was only going to make things worse. Indeed, Mary’s eyes went so wide at his presence that it would have been comical under different circumstances.

“And just who are you?” she spat.

“Abraham Van Helsing. I was a colleague of Mina’s late father,” Abe replied, unperturbed by Mary’s outrage.

“I . . . heavens, if you are spending the night—” Mary sputtered, looking back and forth between us, her indignation growing. “For an engaged woman to have another man lodge with her! That is most—”

“He’s not lodging here, Mary,” I said, taking a deep breath in an effort to keep my tone steady. “He’s helping me look for Jonathan. We—”

“This . . . this is an outrage!” Mary shouted, as if I had not spoken at all. She turned her furious gaze back towards me. “I never understood what my son saw in you. You have no breeding and you are not a proper lady. When he returns, I will make it my priority to end your engagement. He will happily end it himself when I report what I have witnessed here,” she continued, looking at me and Abe in disgust, as if she had caught us in flagrante delicto.

I glared at her, my resolve to maintain calm rapidly failing. With all of the events of the evening, the usual politeness I wore like a shield around Mary fell away.

“I am not a lady,” I snapped.

“I beg your pardon?” Her tone was filled with disbelief.

“I am not a lady, and that is why Jonathan loves me. That is why I will find him, and that is why I insist that you leave my home immediately, or I will not be responsible for the consequences!”

Mary stumbled back, her hand flying towards her chest. I noted with pleasure that she looked a bit frightened, and she was trying unsuccessfully to hide it. She did manage to give me one last glare before whirling on her feet to storm out, dramatically slamming the door behind her.

Once she was gone, my shoulders relaxed. Though it felt wonderful to speak my mind to Mary, I knew that I had destroyed any hope of even a distantly polite relationship between us in the future.

“The future mother-in-law, I assume?” Abe queried.

I straightened, turning to glare at Abe, whom I had almost forgotten was there. I could tell that he was trying to appear mildly concerned, but the corners of his lips twitched as he suppressed an amused smile.

“You shouldn’t have come down,” I muttered, moving past him towards the stairs. “That woman doesn’t need another reason to hate me.”

“My sincere apologies, but it did seem like you needed help,” Abe said, trying to sound genuine despite the faint note of humor in his tone.

As we headed up the stairs, my irritation at Mary’s visit dissipated, and I turned to face him with an apologetic smile.

“I don’t care what Mary or anyone thinks. It is quite late. You can stay the night in one of the guest rooms if you’d like.”

Only a few hours ago, I would have been horrified at the thought of having any man stay the night at my home, no matter how innocent, for fear of how the scandal would affect the Harkers. But the night’s events now made all those concerns seem trivial, and I was still feeling defiant in the face of Mary’s insufferable propriety.

“Now that is the Mina Murray I know,” Abe said, returning my smile with a wink. “Thank you. I may end up sleeping in Robert’s study—if I sleep at all. It has been some time since I have read through his older research; it is extensive. He–he had a brilliant mind.”

Abe looked distant for a moment, his eyes briefly darkening with grief. Abe’s own father had died when he was very young. My father had filled that role in his life, and I knew how much Abe had loved him.

On impulse, I reached out to rest my hand on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. Besides Clara, Abe was the only other person who shared my deep grief over Father’s death. It was my combined guilt and grief in the aftermath of Father’s death that had caused the dissolution of our relationship, but his death still linked us.

Abe’s hand drifted up to rest over mine, and once again heat coursed through me at his touch. Realizing how close we now stood to each other, I took a step back and dropped my hand. There was a brief flicker of some emotion I could not identify in Abe’s features before it was gone again, and he turned to head back towards the study.

“Abe, I forgot to mention . . . Father’s most recent journal is missing. I haven’t been able to find it anywhere. It must have been misplaced. If you were searching for it, you won’t find it in there,” I said, as the memory of Father’s missing journal surfaced.

Abe halted in his tracks, looking back at me with a frown.

“I was looking for it. That is quite odd,” he said, puzzled. He stood there for a moment, his brow furrowed, before turning to head back to the study.

Back in my bedroom, Clara had already completed packing my traveling bag, and gave me an approving nod as I entered.

“Good for you, speakin’ your mind ta Mary Harker,” Clara said, and I realized that she must have heard our entire exchange.

“I’m going to have to apologize,” I said grudgingly. “Though she’ll never forgive me.”

“Tell me wha’ happened tonight. Everythin’,” Clara said, waving away all talk of Mary Harker. She took my hand and guided me to the bed, taking a seat opposite me.

Clara knew of the tales of vampires that Abe, Father and I had collected during our travels in Transylvania; and she was very aware of how Father died. But we’d never discussed the possibility of vampires truly existing, and I had maintained that everything that happened in Transylvania had a rational explanation.

Now, I was nervous as I told her everything that happened—from Abe’s confronting me on the street to the events at the ball and the aftermath, including Abe’s hypnosis of Lucy. Clara remained silent as I spoke. When I finished, she was silent and pale, and not looking at me.

“I know it sounds as if I’ve gone mad,” I said, flustered by her silence. “But I know what I saw, and—”

“I believe you,” Clara interrupted. But she still looked uneasy, and her hands were now clenched nervously in her lap.

“Then what is it?” I asked.

Clara remained silent for a long moment, and when her eyes finally met mine, they were wide with agitation.

“Don’t go back ta Transylvania, Mina. You can’t,” she said. “Let the police find him. Please.”

“I just told you why we can’t rely on the authorities,” I said, stunned by her vehemence.

“I knew. I knew this day’d come,” she whispered rawly, closing her eyes.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “Clara?”

“Your father,” she said heavily, her eyes now filling with tears. “He made me promise ta never tell you this. May God forgive me for breakin’ my promise.”

“What . . . what promise?” I asked, my body going cold with dread.

Clara got to her feet and began to pace the room.

“Before your father left for his final trip, he pulled me aside. He looked scared. He told me . . . he told me no matter wha’ happen’d, I was ta never allow you ta return ta Transylvania, nor tell you about his wish,” she said. “I gave him my word, but he still wouldn’t give me t’ reason why,” Clara continued. “When you told me he’d died . . .”

She pressed her hands to her mouth, shutting her eyes as tears began to fall. I wanted to comfort her, but I was frozen with astonishment at her words.

“I wanted ta tell you then, but I remembered t’ look on his face. He said no matter wha’. It was like he knew he wouldn’t come back, ’n he wanted ta protect you,” Clara whispered, looking at me with tearful eyes. “I prayed you’d never have cause ta return to Transylvania.”

I recalled how strangely Father had acted before his last trip. He told me he was going to attend a lecture at the Hungarian Academy of Sciences in Budapest. But Father was a terrible liar, and he had barely been able to meet my eyes when he informed me of this. I’d known that he was hiding something. I confided in Abe, and together we decided to follow him to try and determine what he was really up to. When we arrived at the village where he stayed for the night, it was too late.

I had long since concluded that he’d gone to Transylvania to research the veracity of vampires’ existence in the region, and he didn’t want to tell me or Abe because of our mutual skepticism. But with Clara’s words, I now knew there was something more. Father somehow knew that I would want—or need—to return to Transylvania. Why? What had he been hiding? And why hadn’t he told me any of this?

As my shock faded, it was replaced by a sense of betrayal and anger. I’d been close with Father, and I always assumed he never hid anything from me. Clara should have told me. If I had known, perhaps I would have begun investigating vampires years ago instead of immersing myself in denial.

I looked up at Clara, my face hot with anger, but her agonized expression quelled my indignation.

Clara was quite loyal. She had always been extremely protective of me, and she just wanted to honor my father and his wishes. It was no fault of her own that he held her to such a promise.

Her desperate eyes were trained on my face, her body stiff, as if bracing herself for my anger. I got to my feet, stepping forward to embrace her. I felt her shoulders sag with relief, and she leaned in to my embrace.

“I’m sorry, Mina. Robert loved you, ’n he seemed so frightened for you.”

“It’s all right, Clara. I just . . . I just wish he had confided in me,” I said, releasing her.

My shock, anger and sense of betrayal had now given way to a heavy fatigue. There was no time to come to terms with all that had happened tonight, and I needed to rest before the next day’s journey.

“I need to sleep before we leave,” I said, stifling a yawn.

“You’re still goin’?” Clara asked, her formerly apologetic tone now sharp with disbelief and a hint of anger. “Mina, your father—”

“Is gone,” I bit out, a sharp pain searing my chest at the words. “His secrecy has served no benefit. He is dead, Jonathan’s been abducted, and a threat I didn’t want to believe exists is here in London. If Father wanted to keep me safe, he should have been honest with me. Transylvania is where the answers are, and where Jonathan’s been taken. And that is where I must go.”

10

The Demeter

I slept fitfully, my dreams filled with images of Jonathan’s disoriented face, the vampire’s black gaze, and the thick fog surrounding the carriage before it vanished on the bridge.

I awoke just as the first rays of sunlight filtered into my bedroom. I slowly sat up, my eyes still heavy with fatigue. But when the memories of the previous night’s events flooded my mind, I stumbled out of bed.

I washed and put on a beige traveling dress, securing my hair in a bun and topping it with a hat before heading to the dining room with my packed bag.

Clara and Abe were already dining on a breakfast of muffins, fruit, cold meat and tea. They both seemed to have slept as little as I had; Abe’s eyes were bleary as he gave me a nod of greeting. He excused himself to get us a cab, but before he left Clara gave him a warm farewell embrace. She murmured something in his ear, and he stiffened at whatever was said, before slipping from the room.

“What did you tell him?” I asked, once he left and we were alone.

“Somethin’ he already knows,” she said cryptically, placing a warm cup of tea in my hands. Her eyes were shuttered; I knew that she had no intention of divulging what she said to Abe.

“I’ve left several notes in my room,” I said, returning to the matter at hand. “One is for Horace, explaining my absence so he can make arrangements for a substitute to take my place while I’m away. The second is for any general visitors who might call. The third is a very reluctant note of apology to Mary Harker,” I added, attempting a bit of levity as I gave her a small smile.

“When’ll you be back home?” Clara asked, not at all amused, her face tight with worry.

“When I have Jonathan,” I replied. Clara searched my eyes, but the determination she saw in them made her fall silent. She expelled a weary sigh and reached out to touch my cheek, giving me a sad smile.

“You’ve always been stubborn . . . even when you were just a lass,” she said. “Please be safe.”

“I will,” I replied solemnly, reaching up to squeeze her hand.

Moments later, Clara stood in the doorway, watching as I climbed into a cab next to Abe. Her face was pale with anxiety, and she didn’t return the reassuring smile I gave her as the cab clattered away.

When our cab dropped us at the entrance to the port of Tilbury in Essex, Seward was already there, his bag at his side. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his features marred with fretfulness. After exchanging polite greetings, we waited for Arthur.

It seemed as if we were waiting for quite some time, and I was starting to wonder if Arthur had decided against coming when the Holmwood carriage approached, pulling to a stop directly in front of us. The carriage driver stepped out to open the passenger door.

Arthur exited, his arm around Lucy, who moved stiffly in tandem with her husband. Her eyes were back to their natural brown, though they were dazed and fatigued. She was smartly dressed in a forest green traveling dress, her brown hair secured in a bun, and the veiled hat that rested on her head partially obstructed her face. The only thing off about her appearance was her oddly pale skin and the jerky movement of her limbs; Arthur seemed to completely shoulder her weight as they moved.

“I gave her the sedative you prescribed,” Arthur said to Abe as they reached us. “Once we are on the ship, I will have to give her an additional dosage. I fear it is the only way to keep her calm.”

“I understand,” Abe said, looking at Lucy with concern.

“Our journey is only a few hours,” Arthur continued, now addressing us all. “But in his message to me this morning, Captain Harper informed me that we can make use of his and two officers’ cabins for the duration. That will allow us a place to discuss our—present dilemma—without being overheard . . . and I can keep Lucy away from curious eyes.”

I studied Lucy, whose head was now resting on Abe’s shoulder, her visage bearing the eerie calm of the heavily sedated. There was no trace of the dangerous creature who had lunged at me the previous night. Her cool brown eyes slid to me, and I thought I saw something dark shift in her eyes, like a dragon being stirred from its slumber, before it was gone again, and I swiftly looked away.

We headed through the port, which was bustling at this early hour. Ships of various sizes clogged the harbor, their pointed masts clustered so closely together that I was reminded of a forest of pine trees. Dockhands and cranes alike loaded crates of cargo on to the anchored ships, while even more ships drifted into the harbor. The air here was damp with the salty muskiness of the Thames, the sky gray with the promise of a storm.

As we walked, I once again felt a cold prickle on the back of my neck. It was the same sensation I’d felt at both the cemetery and the ball, and I stopped in my tracks, whirling to scan the port.

“Mina? Are you all right?” Abe asked. He and the others had halted as well, regarding me with concerned frowns.

I took another look around, but other than curious glances from some of the dockhands, there appeared to be nothing or no one out of the ordinary. The sensation was gone now, and I wondered if the feeling had just been in my mind. Perhaps my fatigue and anxiety from all that had transpired the night before made me abnormally aware of my surroundings.

“Yes,” I said hastily, hurrying forward to join them, but Abe’s perceptive gaze lingered on my face.

We approached the Demeter, the largest of the ships anchored, looming above the rest like a mighty colossus, its sails fluttering in the light breeze. A harried young man approached, removing his hat at the sight of me and Lucy. He looked like a boy stretched to a man’s height, with a spattering of freckles, a mop of ginger hair, and green eyes that shone with both youth and kindness.

“Mister Holmwood?” he asked. At Arthur’s nod, he continued. “I’m George, first mate. The captain said I’m ta take care of ya. I’ll escort ya t’your quarters. Afraid they’re a bit rough,” he added apologetically. “But ’tis only for a few hours. We rarely take passengers across the Channel.”

“That is quite all right,” Arthur politely returned. “We are grateful to be accommodated on such short notice.”

George took my bag and led us across the gangway, across the wide deck of the ship and down the steep ladders that led to the cabins.

Arthur and Lucy were to share the captain’s cabin, while Abe and Seward settled into George’s cabin, and I stayed in the second officers’ cabin. My cabin was not as run down as we had been warned, and though it was minuscule, I found it rather quaint, furnished with a small bed and desk, and smelling of the sweat of the sea.

I set my bag down onto the narrow bed, reaching inside to unearth a betrothal photograph of myself and Jonathan that I’d carefully packed. In the photograph, Jonathan and I sat next to each other, gazing politely at the camera.

I remembered the day we took the photograph well. I had hated the whole affair, with Mary hovering behind the photographer, constantly ordering me to adjust my posture and sit like a proper lady. Jonathan kept me at ease the entire time by whispering jokes into my ear; I could now detect a faint trace of a smile that tugged at my lips in the photo.

Taking in Jonathan’s image, I traced the outline of his face, filled with a sudden surge of worry and dread. Where was he right now?

I will bring you home safe, Jonathan, I thought. I promise.

* * *

When I went up to the main deck, I found Arthur standing alone by the rails, his expression distant as he watched the activity of the port below. I hesitated, not wanting to disturb him, and I started to turn back around.

“Mina. Please,” he said, gesturing to the empty spot next to him. “Your presence would be agreeable.”

I obliged him, and we stood in companionable silence for a moment, taking in the Thames and the bustle of the port around us, before he spoke.

“My father did not want me to marry Lucy,” he said. I was startled by such a personal revelation, considering that we had only just been acquainted, but I remained silent. “He thought her family was not suitable enough to be paired with the Holmwoods. I did not care. She was full of life. It was as if the sun itself followed her wherever she went . . .” he trailed off, and then blinked, as if surprised that he had spoken his thoughts out loud. “My apologies, Mina. I do not usually speak so plainly. Please do not feel as if you have to—”

“There’s no need to apologize,” I interrupted gently, giving him a kind smile. “Please. Tell me about her.”

“Lucy wanted children quite desperately,” he continued, after a long pause. “That is what our row was about. We had only just been married. I wanted to wait until my business had grown a bit. Lucy was always passionate, and she often stormed out during our rows. When she left this last time, I did not think to go after her right away; I was quite angry myself. When she did not return . . .” he trailed off again, his pale eyes glistening with tears. “If I had just gone after her.”

“You didn’t know, Arthur,” I said. “You couldn’t have possibly known.”

Arthur didn’t respond, taking off his spectacles to clean them with a handkerchief before returning his focus to the port.

“We went on holiday to Venice last year. We were walking along the Grand Canal to watch the sunset, and she turned to me, her eyes were filled with tears. I asked her what was the matter. She told me that she had never been more happy; that she wanted to remember that moment forever. I keep wondering . . . did she know? Did she know what would happen to her?”

“You’ll have your happy moments again,” I insisted, my heart aching for him.

“You do not have to say that,” Arthur replied, with a sad smile. “We do not even understand what this is. I know her chances of recovery are minute. There have been moments of lucidity, when she is still my Lucy. This morning, as I got her dressed, she looked at me, and she said, ‘Arthur, you have to let me go. I cannot live like this.’” His voice broke. “But you were right, Mina. She would have wanted to help. She had—has—a kind soul. We take much for granted,” he continued, with a sigh. “We assume that everything we have will always remain so. There is still hope for you and your Jonathan. God willing, my Lucy can help you find him.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, both moved by his words and praying that he was right; that there was hope for Jonathan.

We fell into a solemn silence. Seward and Abe soon came up onto the deck to join us, and the captain approached us. Captain William Harper was a grizzled man in his fifties, with graying black hair and a thick untamed beard. He had the rough weathered look of a man who spent more of his life at sea than on land, but his gray eyes were amiable, and I took an instant liking to him.

“Thank you for providing us transport to Calais,” Arthur said politely, giving him a grateful smile.

“I am happy to help. Your father was a friend,” Captain Harper replied. “You and your friends are my honored guests. I must warn you, these skies have me nervous. There was no sign of a storm when we arrived this morning. I’m certain we can get across the Channel before it hits. We should arrive in Calais later this afternoon. I hope you get to your relative in time,” he added, his voice softening with sympathy.

Arthur had informed Captain Harper that we needed to get to France as quickly as possible to visit a sick relative. It was a necessary lie, as we could hardly tell him the real reason for our need to leave England so hastily.

“We hope so as well, thank you,” Arthur said, holding Captain Harper’s eyes, giving away no indication of the lie.

“George will come and fetch you from your cabins for a late breakfast,” Captain Harper said. “I should warn you, I have a large crew for this journey, and many of them have taken ill with fever; they’re mostly confined to the sailors’ berths. You are all free to move about the ship at will, just avoid the berths, the illness is contagious.”

After he left us, we went down to his cabin to talk without the risk of being overheard. The cabin was the largest of the three we’d settled in, yet it could still barely fit all three of us. Lucy was sleeping when we entered, her body curled protectively beneath the thin blanket, facing away from us. Arthur sat down on the bed next to her, careful not to disturb her sleeping form. Seward and I remained next to the door, while Abe moved over to the small desk and perched on its edge.

“There is still much we do not know,” Abe said. “When I experiment, I begin with what I do know.”

“We do the same with our investigations,” Seward said. “Start with the facts and work backwards.”

“Well, we know that Jonathan was abducted from the Langham last night by vampires. Who else was taken?” I asked.

“Nicholas Lewiston, Edward Johnson, and Fannie Herman,” Seward replied, reciting from memory. “I went to Scotland Yard before I came home last night to see if there was any new information. Mister Lewiston and Johnson are solicitors; Fannie Herman was a maid in the cloakroom. Their families are devastated. They don’t know why anyone would abduct them, and they doubted they’d just leave London without telling anyone.”

I frowned, baffled. What would vampires want with a cloakroom maid and three solicitors?

“Jonathan’s law partner wanted to discuss something with him, right before he was abducted,” I said, recalling how Peter Hawkins had pulled him aside. “And he mentioned that there were robberies at his office.”

“Can you send a wire to Mister Hawkins when we get to Calais—find out what they discussed?” Seward asked. “If any of it’s related, it could help us determine why he was taken.”

I nodded, and Abe continued, speaking quickly now, as if his words were scrambling to keep pace with his thoughts. “The Ripper murders go back several years, and they are still occurring, unbeknownst to the public. The victims are the poor and wealthy alike. Right around the time the Ripper murders began, there were accounts of other murders and disappearances all throughout Europe. Berlin, Paris, Amsterdam . . . a fortnight ago, Lucy was bitten by a vampire. Now, there could be many explanations. The murders could just be that—murders. I know from lore, my research, and witness accounts that vampires need blood to survive. Naturally, they would kill their victims to obtain their blood—and there is reproduction, of course. All biological forms reproduce, that could explain why they have moved from the countryside to the cities. More humans to transform.”

“Why the abductions?” I asked. “It’s not necessary to abduct someone for the transformation to take hold—look at Lucy.”

Another silence fell, and I closed my eyes to concentrate. I recalled a technique Father had once taught me when I struggled to solve a difficult mathematical equation one of my tutors had me solve. Use the heuristic method, Father had told me. Think of the simplest solution. With every problem, it is always the simplest solution.

Abductions, murders, reproduction, the pack mentality of vampires, the—

My eyes flew open as the answer to my question came to me. How could I have not seen this before? It was the simplest answer to our questions, but the most horrifying one.

I recalled Lucy’s words from the night before. We need them.

“Godsamme,” Abe whispered, a Dutch oath he rarely uttered. His stunned gaze met mine. He had come to the same conclusion.

“What?” Seward asked, looking back and forth between me and Abe with alarm.

“They’ve moved from the countrysides to cities,” I said, my voice trembling with dread. “Because they’re increasing their numbers.”

“Yes, we’ve gathered that,” Seward said shortly. “What is the—”

“What reason would they have to multiply so expeditiously?” Abe asked. “Only four years ago, Robert, Mina and I learned of the murders in the Transylvanian countryside. But there were very few—if any—mentions of actual disappearances. During the past three years, the unexplained disappearances have dramatically increased. Think. What possible reason could they have to abduct so many? We know from Lucy that the transformation takes time. It is obvious that they want to increase their numbers. Why so quickly? To what end?”

Arthur and Seward’s eyes locked with ours as they were hit with the same realization. Arthur blanched, and Seward leaned back heavily against the wall, burying his face in his hands.

“Bloody hell,” Seward whispered. This time, he was too shocked to apologize to me for the oath. “No.”

“They’re building an army,” I said, finally speaking aloud the terrible words that we were all thinking.

11

Invasion

On the deck above, the ship’s crew shouted directions to each other as it began to pull away from the docks to drift down the churning waters of the Thames towards the Channel. But the captain’s cabin was filled with a roaring silence.

“The only reason to have an army is to invade—and we can’t stop a bloody invasion on our own,” Seward said, splintering the silence. “If this theory’s right, then everything’s changed.”

“I agree,” I said. “But it hasn’t happened yet, which means we have time to stop it.”

“Did you not hear me?” Seward demanded, his voice rising with incredulity. “How can we possibly—”

“Every army has a leader. If you destroy the leader—” I began.

“You destroy the army,” Abe concluded. “If there is a leader, we can attempt to confirm his identity through Lucy. Our goal is still the same, Jack,” he said to Seward. “We rescue Jonathan and whoever else they’ve taken—and kill the creature who abducted them. If the abductor and this leader are one and the same, killing him can possibly scatter his followers and prevent an invasion before it happens. By then, perhaps we will have gathered enough proof of vampires to involve the authorities.”

“If we fail—” Seward began.

“We can’t,” I interrupted, shivering at the thought.

“But if we do,” Seward repeated, scowling at me. “I want a safeguard. No, my colleagues won’t believe me now if I tell them an invasion of vampires is likely upon us. But I want to at least send them a wire warning them of an imminent threat to London. I’ll think of a way to word it. That way they can be vigilant and prepared.”

Abe and I nodded our agreement. Seward visibly relaxed, though he still looked disturbed.

“Arthur,” Abe said. Arthur had been so silent that I’d almost forgotten he was there. He looked dazed with trepidation at our exchange, and shakily met Abe’s eyes. “I need to wake Lucy to communicate through her.”

Arthur seemed to emerge from his daze, turning towards Lucy to wake her, but she began to stir on her own. We all stilled as she sat up, turning to face us.

I had to stifle a gasp at the sight of her. The whites of her eyes had again gone black, and she seemed to look right through us.

“Arthur, step back,” Abe said, speaking slowly and calmly, though his voice wavered. Arthur was staring at his wife in frozen shock, but he obliged Abe, stumbling aback from the bed as Abe stepped tentatively forward, pulling the silver locket from his coat pocket. I noticed that one hand had strayed behind his back, clutching the hilt of a knife that was nestled in his back pocket.

“Lucy,” Abe said. “Are you there?”

“She’s gone,” Lucy expelled on a sigh, her voice light as a feather. “It’s only me now. Me and my brethren. Your Lucy will never return to you.”

Her brethren? Dread stirred within me at her words. Arthur sucked in his breath, his face going white, while Seward stiffened, clenching his hands into fists at his sides.

Abe was the only one of us who appeared calm. Keeping his eyes trained on her, he lifted up the locket to her eye level; but she paid it no mind, her black eyes intent on his face.

“You have a leader,” Abe pressed. “Who is he?”

Lucy smiled, the sight a horrible thing, revealing her unnaturally sharp teeth.

“The last of the Old Families . . . two as one,” Lucy whispered. “All will be made new again,” she added cryptically, a delirious smile spreading across her face.

I shuddered at her ominous words. I still wanted to ask her about Jonathan—why he’d been taken and if he was unharmed, but the threat of violence in her eyes held me back, and I was fearful for Abe. He was within striking distance of her, and she was unrestrained.

“I know what you desire,” she continued, her voice dangerous as she looked at Abe. “But we will not be stopped.”

“What are—” Abe began, but he abruptly went stiff, his arms limply falling to his sides, the locket clattering to the floor.

I realized with horror that she had somehow taken control of him, and had put him under some sort of paralysis. I recalled the paralysis Abe and I had been put under the night of Father’s death. The same thing was being done to Abe now; I was certain of it.

“Lucy!” Arthur cried, stumbling forward. “Lucy, stop it! Come back to me! Lucy!”

But Lucy’s eyes never left Abe’s, and I saw her eyes slide hungrily to his throat.

No, I thought in a panic, instinctively lunging forward. I was unarmed, my kukri knives were stowed in my cabin, so I moved towards the knife in Abe’s back pocket. But Arthur lurched forward to grab my arm, holding me back.

“Let me go—” I cried, struggling in his grasp.

“You will not harm her!” Arthur shouted.

“Arthur, that’s not your bloody wife!” Seward shouted, darting forward to reach for Abe’s knife.

Our commotion had caught Lucy’s attention, and her scrutiny shifted away from Abe and towards us.

As soon as her eyes left him, Abe was released from his paralysis, and before Seward or I could reach him, he moved quickly, lunging forward to inject a syringe he had hidden in his hand into the soft flesh of her neck. She let out a vicious snarl as Seward scrambled forward to hold her down, and Abe injected her with yet another dosage of the sedative. She finally went still, her eyes glazing over before fluttering shut, her breathing painful and ragged as she fell into a deep sleep.

Arthur sank to his knees, closing his eyes as Abe and Seward secured her wrists to the bedposts with handcuffs that Seward had brought with him. When they stepped back, Arthur spoke, still eyeing her with unease.

“Abraham,” he whispered. “Is my wife gone?”

Abe stepped forward, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Yes,” he replied. “I believe we just witnessed the last stage of her transformation. She is no longer your Lucy.”

Arthur pressed his hand to his mouth and began to weep. It was a heartbreaking sight, and once again my heart ached for him as he raised tearful eyes to Abe. Yet I couldn’t disagree with Abe’s conclusion. There had been no traces of humanity in Lucy’s black eyes.

“I had hope,” Arthur said, when his tears subsided and he climbed back to his feet. “That we could cure her somehow.”

“Do not blame yourself, Arthur,” Abe said, his eyes heavy with regret. “I should never have insisted that you bring her.”

“Nor should I,” I said, feeling a pang of guilt as I recalled how I had convinced him to bring Lucy. “I’m so sorry, Arthur.”

“Once we arrive in Calais, please allow me to pay for your passage back to London.” Abe said.

“That will not be necessary. I–I do not believe she will make it that far. I cannot keep her restrained in the company of others. We will attract too much attention.”

“We can find you an inn in Calais,” Abe said, after a brief pause. “Take the time you feel is necessary.”

He met Arthur’s eyes, his dark meaning clear. Arthur was going to kill the creature that his wife had become.

“If you need help, I can—” Abe continued with great difficulty, but Arthur held up his hand.

“No,” Arthur said. “It has to be me. I am her husband. It . . . it will break my heart, but it is what she would have wanted.”

My eyes slid towards Lucy’s sleeping form. In her slumber, I could see traces of the beautiful human woman she’d once been, and I was pierced with a pang of sorrow for her and Arthur. But trepidation lurked beneath my empathy. What if Jonathan’s been turned? I wondered. I had to get to him before that could happen.

There was a knock at the door, and Abe had the wherewithal to quickly cover Lucy’s handcuffs with blankets and a pillow before Seward swung open the door.

George stood there, looking surprised to find us all in the cabin.

“There’s food in the wardroom,” he said, his tone polite despite his obvious puzzlement. “Captain wanted me ta inform ya the storm’s almost upon us . . . couldn’t avoid it. The wind’s pushing us off course towards the North Sea. We’ll be delayed in getting ta Calais. Rest of the journey’ll be a bit choppy.”

I turned to glance out the small cabin window. I had been so distracted by our discussion and then Lucy’s near attack that I’d not noticed the now darkened sky and gray choppy waters of the sea. My heart plummeted. The longer our delay, the longer it would take to get to Jonathan.

George left, and we started to file out after him, but Arthur remained behind.

“You should not stay in here alone,” Abe said, looking anxiously at Lucy’s unconscious form. “Let Seward or I—”

“I want to spend what little time I have left with her, even if she is lost to me,” Arthur replied, his eyes filled with anguish. “I have the morphia sedative and . . . and one of your knives just in case.”

We reluctantly left him behind, making our way across the corridor to the wardroom. We had it to ourselves, and a small meal of coffee, biscuits, and marmalade had been set up for us at the long table, somehow managing to stay in place despite the rocking of the ship.

As we ate, my mind kept returning to Lucy’s transformation and her ominous words.

“What do you think Lucy meant?” I asked. “Last of the Old Families? Her brethren?”

“I think she confirmed your theory,” Seward replied. “Those vamp—” he stopped himself, closing his eyes. “I can’t even say the bloody word. Sorry,” he added quickly to me, as soon as he uttered the oath. “Vampires are planning to take over, and they have a leader.”

“If we could just confirm the name of their leader,” I said. “When we’re on land, perhaps we can get more information from Lu—”

“We cannot risk communicating with her anymore,” Abe interjected. “The sedative barely worked on her and it is the strongest one I have access to. I cannot control her through hypnosis anymore.”

I reluctantly fell silent; he was right. I had come very close to using Abe’s knife against her. But I felt a rush of helplessness. Lucy had been my only way of keeping track of Jonathan. I could only pray that she had set us in the right direction.

“What we need to know is how to kill them,” Seward said. “Besides silver, what’re their weaknesses?”

“The villagers in Transylvania mentioned crosses, garlic—” I began.

“No. They may have been right about vampires, but not about the means of destroying them. Those are mere superstitions,” Abe said. “Lucy had no reaction when I held up a cross. It was the same with garlic. She took it from me and ate it. Stabbing vampires in the heart can kill them instantly. Beheading works as well. There may be—”

Abe abruptly fell silent as Captain Harper entered the wardroom, his crinkled face marred with concern.

“It’s going to get rougher with these winds. You’ll likely be more comfortable in the cabins. In my experience, sudden storms like these usually die down quickly. Once it does, I can get us back on course.”

We nodded and thanked him, but I was far more worried about the delay than the choppiness of our journey.

We obliged the captain, resolving to ride out the storm in our cabins and to get as much rest as we could before hitting land.

Once I was alone in my cabin, I reached into my bag to remove one of Father’s journals. Since I had been unable to locate his most recent journal, I had taken several other of his journals with me, hoping to stumble upon something of importance.

The entry I skimmed through was an account of a biology conference he attended in Brussels several months prior to his death, but there was nothing of note in the entry.

I closed the journal, frowning. I found it odd that none of his entries mentioned his research into vampires or his trips to Transylvania—I knew he had taken several in the year prior to his death. The entries were brief and perfunctory, but Father had been a detailed observer and note-taker.

Had he purposefully been hiding something? Prior to Clara’s revelation, I would have dismissed the thought, but now I wasn’t so certain. If so, what had he been hiding? And why?

Fatigue settled over me, quelling my tumultuous thoughts. I wanted to keep reading, and tried to resist the pull of sleep, but I was unable to fight the weight of my exhaustion.

I stretched out on the small bed, resting my head on the small pillow. As I drifted off, Lucy’s haunting words flitted through my mind once more. We will not be stopped.

* * *

When I came to, my cabin was swaying abruptly from side to side by the force of the storm and the sea. There was no window in my room, and I did not know the time.

I groggily sat up, stiffening when I heard a strange sound. Beneath the sound of pattering rain on the ship’s hull, I could hear a low rumble outside my door. I sat perfectly still and listened as the rumbling continued.

The sound was not rumbling . . . it was a growl. A growl that sounded eerily similar to the sound Lucy made when she tried to attack me back in London.

Could it be Lucy? Had she gotten free?

On edge, I looked at the door. It was locked, but I knew it wouldn’t be able to withstand much force. Panic coiled around me as I closed my eyes, struggling to recall Sofia’s words. Always use fear to your benefit, Mina. Never allow it to hinder you.

I forced myself to my feet, and crept over to my bag, taking out my two kukri knives. I stowed one in my sleeve and kept the other in my hand. Steadying my breathing, I moved silently to the door, and placed my hand on the latch.

I listened. I could still hear faint growling. It seemed to come from further down the corridor.

I silently counted to three before I swung open the door, ready to fight.

12

Overrun

I froze at the sight that met my eyes at the end of the corridor.

A shipmate crouched in an animalistic position over the still, prone body of George, feasting on his blood. His teeth were sunk into George’s throat, his eyes closed with bliss as he drank, droplets of blood spilling from the sides of his mouth. It was an uncanny recreation of what I’d seen the night of Father’s murder.

A hand clamped over my mouth and strong arms wrapped around me from behind, dragging me back into my cabin. Fear coursed through me, and once the arms released me, I whirled around, raising my kukri to strike.

I lowered my kukri as I realized it was only Abe, looking as shaken as I felt. He carried his, Seward’s and Arthur’s bags, the straps wrapped around his shoulders, a large knife tucked into his front pocket. He placed a finger to his lips, and gently but firmly pushed me aside to close the door, pressing his body against it.

“The captain mentioned his shipmates being ill,” Abe whispered, his face white. “That is the illness.”

“Oh, no,” I whispered. I did recall Captain Harper mentioning ill shipmates, but I never would have thought . . .

“How—” I began.

“We will have to ponder that later. Right now, we need to get off this ship. There are dozens of shipmates aboard, and there is no telling how many have been transformed. Seward was not in the cabin when I awoke from my nap. Arthur and Lucy’s cabin is empty as well. Gather what you can. We must leave.”

Reeling with shock, I moved to grab my bag, and kept my rising panic at bay. Abe handed me two knives from his bag, which I tucked securely into my bodice and my other sleeve before slinging my bag securely over my shoulder. I gave Abe a quick nod to indicate that I was ready, my kukri in hand.

“Walk quickly. Do not run. It is my hope that we can get to the upper deck without the vampire noticing,” Abe said.

My heart pounded wildly as Abe opened the door and we stepped out of my cabin, not daring to look behind us as we moved down the narrow corridor. The ship rocked with the force of the sea, and it took great effort not to stumble as I walked, especially given my terror. Behind us, I could hear the sickening slurping sounds as the creature continued to feast on George, and I had to suppress my nausea and revulsion at the sound.

As we neared the stairs at the end of the corridor, a warning snarl behind us indicated that we’d been seen. I knew that we could not outrun him, and Abe seemed to share my thoughts.

We both halted, and turned around.

The vampire had lifted his head up from George’s neck, his mouth stained with blood, his black pupils trained on us. From his smooth skin and lanky frame, I surmised that he must have once been a boyish young man like George, full of life. Any trace of humanity had long gone. He bared his teeth, revealing front incisors that were elongated into sharp fangs. He slowly rose to his full height, like a cobra poising for a fatal strike.

Paralyzing fear held me rigid as his black eyes met ours, darkly similar to Lucy’s. Abe moved into a defensive stance, stepping in front of me as he took out his knife.

“Mina, run,” he whispered, his focus trained on the vampire.

“I’m not leaving you,” I protested, stepping out from behind him and moving into a defensive stance of my own as I clutched my kukri.

There was no time to for him to protest. Instead, we kept our eyes on the vampire as he began to stalk towards us, his movements oddly controlled and civilized for a creature who had just feasted on blood. His eyes swept from Abe towards me, and I detected an eagerness in the soulless depths of his eyes; a look of unbridled anticipation and bloodlust. I had to force myself to remain stock still as he drew near.

As he came within striking distance, Abe and I lifted our weapons, but before we could strike, a knife sailed past us and lodged itself directly in the vampire’s heart.

The vampire stiffened, his black eyes shifting back to a very human shade of brown, looking down at the knife now embedded in his chest before he sank to his knees and slumped to the floor.

Stunned, we whirled around. A man stood on the ladder behind us, his eyes locked on the vampire’s now still form. He was tall and broad shouldered, with light cinnamon skin that indicated both Turkish and European ancestry. With his black hair and silver eyes, he had the look of an avenging angel.

“You need to get off this ship,” he said curtly, his English perfect and bearing no trace of an accent. He barely looked at us as he descended the remaining steps. He moved past us to bend down over the dead vampire, yanking the knife out of his chest. “It has been overrun with newborn vampires. There’s a jolly boat on the upper deck. Take it to get off the ship.”

Thunderstruck, Abe and I just stared at him. He referred to vampires as casually as one would refer to the weather. Who was he? And how did he know about vampires?

I studied him closely. There was something familiar about him, though I didn’t recognize him from the shipmates we’d seen so far, and I had no doubt I would have remembered him.

“Leave,” he repeated, straightening to glare at us. “Do you want to get yourselves killed?”

Without waiting for our response, he moved past us to head back up the stairs. We exchanged a bewildered glance, emerging from our shock to dash after him.

“Who are you?” I stammered, as we made our way up the ladder towards the upper deck.

“There’s no time for introductions. You need to get off this ship,” he replied. “Your friends are up on deck as well—take them with you. I’ll distract the monsters.”

He left no time for further questions, hurrying up the remainder of the steps to the deck and leaving us behind.

We scrambled after him, a multitude of questions racing through my mind about his identity, but I pushed them aside. It was best to heed his words and get off this ship. I could find out who he was later.

When we reached the upper deck, we halted. It was as if we had stumbled into a waking nightmare.

The raging storm had turned the late-afternoon sky dark and ominous, and sheets of rain now poured down onto the chaotic scene. Dozens of transformed shipmates swarmed the deck, their eyes black and fangs elongated as they attacked and feasted on the surviving human shipmates. I watched in dazed fright as two newborn vampires crouched over a dying and bleeding shipmate, eagerly feasting from his throat. Another vampire leapt onto a shipmate as he tried to flee, tearing into his chest with his fangs. On the opposite side of the deck, several terrified shipmates leapt overboard before they could be attacked by a pursuing vampire.

Amidst the chaos, I could see Seward on the far side of the deck by the railing, protectively standing in front of a terrified Captain Harper and several shipmates, warding off any approaching vampires by firing his revolver into their hearts. All around him, other shipmates tried in vain to fight off the attacking vampires with knives, their cries of terror rising above the furious staccato pounding of raindrops on the deck.

As Abe and I stood there rooted to the spot in horror, two vampires charged towards us from the center of the deck. At the sight of them, we were pulled from our shock, and once again Abe moved to stand protectively in front of me.

The mysterious man who had rescued us on the lower deck darted out from behind us, moving in front of their eye line and directing their attention towards him. He turned and raced towards the ship’s mast, leading them away from us.

We raced towards Seward, slashing our weapons at any vampires who lunged towards us as we ran. We quickly reached Seward’s side, moving into defensive stances to continue warding off any approaching vampires.

“We need to leave!” I shouted, slashing wildly at the throat of a vampire as he lunged towards me. “Where’s Arthur? Lucy?!”

“I don’t know! And I don’t know how much longer we can hold these bloody things off!” Seward shouted, firing his revolver at another charging vampire.

I looked around and spotted Lucy and Arthur standing by the main hatch. Even through the heavy rain, I could see that Lucy was fully vampire now, her pale skin pulled even more tautly over her bones, her black eyes intense as she focused on Arthur. He stood opposite her, looking as entranced as Jonathan had before he was abducted at the Langham.

“Jack, take Mina and the others to the jolly boat!” Abe shouted, following my gaze towards Arthur and Lucy. “I am going to get Arthur!”

“Abe, no!” I cried, but he had already left our defensive perimeter, and raced through the swarm of clashing human and vampire bodies towards Arthur and Lucy.

Ignoring Seward’s shout of warning, I charged after him. A vampire launched himself at me as I ran, knocking me down and pinning me to the deck. He reared down towards my throat, his teeth bared, but I managed to evade him, turning my head away as I acted on pure instinct and lodged my kukri into the side his neck. Dark crimson spurted from the wound, and he stiffened as I yanked the blade out of his neck before sinking it directly into his heart.

I had never killed before, and the dark pleasure I felt at the act shocked me as the vampire went still and lifeless.

I shoved him off of me, stumbling back to my feet and dashing towards Abe, who now stood feet away from Arthur.

“Arthur!” Abe shouted, as I reached his side. “She is not your Lucy! We must go!”

I looked around the deck. Seward was holding off the remaining vampires with his revolver, but they were now focused on the other surviving humans. It was only a matter of time before they turned their attention on us.

“Arthur!” I shouted. “Please! We don’t have much time!”

Arthur stood transfixed, his eyes focused on the creature who had once been his wife.

“Arthur, my husband. Help me.”

Though Lucy spoke softly, her words somehow carried over the din of the storm and the chaos that surrounded us. Her eyes had turned brown once more, and she was looking at him with seemingly genuine helplessness. “I don’t know what is happening to me. Please, my husband. Come. Help me.”

Somehow I knew that this was a trick. Lucy was gone; the monster had taken over.

“Arthur, no!” Abe and I cried in unison, as Arthur stepped closer towards her.

Abe started forward to stop him, but Lucy turned towards us, and we were instantly put under paralysis. Forced into stillness, we could only watch helplessly as Arthur continued towards her.

Once he reached her, she wound her long pale fingers in his tawny hair, pulling him towards her. I couldn’t bear to watch his inevitable death at her hands, but the paralysis prevented me from closing my eyes, and I was forced to watch as their lips met in a deeply sensual kiss.

As they kissed, I saw Arthur’s hand subtly drift to his back pocket, and he pulled out a large knife that rested there; I recognized it as one of Abe’s.

It happened quickly. He yanked the knife upwards before sinking it into her heart. Her eyes widened, and for a brief moment she looked human again. I saw a flicker of love and gratitude in her eyes before they fluttered shut, and she slumped to the deck, still in Arthur’s arms.

Abe and I were instantly released from our paralysis. We stumbled forward as Arthur held her close, his eyes wet with tears.

“Forgive me, my angel,” Arthur whispered rawly, rocking her in his arms. “My Lucy. May God forgive me.”

“We have to leave! Now!” Seward cried.

Abe and I turned. The rain had tapered off to a drizzle, and Seward limped towards us. He was supporting a weakened Captain Harper, who bled from an open wound on the side of his throat. The other shipmates Seward had guarded lay dead behind them, and the deck was now still and silent, littered with the dead bodies of both humans and vampires. There was no sign of the mysterious man who had helped us.

“I won’t make it,” Captain Harper gasped, stumbling to his knees as they reached us. “Take this. It’s my observations of odd events on the ship. It may help you.”

“We’re not leaving you,” Seward said, taking the journal as he reached out to steady him.

Captain Harper waved away his help, remaining on his knees, and taking in uneven breaths of air.

“I’ll not leave my ship,” he said, meeting our eyes. “There may be more of those monsters aboard. You should leave. Quickly.”

We hesitated, but the captain’s look broached no argument. Arthur got to his feet, still holding Lucy in his arms.

“Arthur—” Abe protested.

“I will not leave my wife’s body behind. I want to bury her myself,” Arthur whispered brokenly. Without waiting for a reply, he moved away from us, towards the jolly boat on the opposite side of the deck.

I took one last look at Captain Harper as we trailed behind Arthur. He had moved into a sitting position, his eyes drooping, his breathing short and uneven. His gaze trailed over the bodies strewn across the deck before focusing on the surrounding sea, where it remained until his eyes shut for the final time, and he went completely still before slumping over onto his side.

There was no time to mourn for the kind captain we had known so briefly. As soon as we reached the jolly boat, which hung on the side of the ship by davits, we heard savage snarls behind us.

We whirled. Several vampires had emerged from the far side of the lower deck, standing by the companionway, their hungry eyes centered on us.

“I can hold them off,” Arthur said, stepping forward to deposit Lucy’s body into a stunned Seward’s arms. “Leave.”

“Arthur, wait—” Abe protested.

“Leave!” Arthur repeated, already moving away from us, using his knife to cut a jagged wound into his wrist. At the sight of the fresh blood that spilled from the wound, the vampires immediately set their sights on him.

Ignoring our cries of protest, Arthur raced towards the rear of the ship, and the vampires gave chase.

“The fool!” Abe cried, his voice trembling with despair.

“He’s made up his mind,” I said, grabbing Abe’s arm. “We have to go!”

After a brief moment of hesitation, Abe turned and pushed me into the boat, while Seward placed Lucy’s body in the center. They both began to lower it into the sea by the attached ropes, their muscles straining with effort. Once it hit the sea, they climbed down the ropes and clamored into the boat, carefully unhooking it from the Demeter.

“Wait,” Abe said anxiously, once we were all settled into the boat and Seward reached for the oars.

He was looking up at the ship for any sign of Arthur. We waited for several fraught moments, until both Arthur and the man who had rescued us appeared at the ship’s edge.

My relief was short-lived when I saw Arthur’s physical state. While the mysterious man appeared to be unharmed, though his shirt and skin was splattered with blood, Arthur looked frighteningly pale, bleeding heavily from bite wounds on his neck and shoulders, as well as the cut on his arm.

“Throw him down!” Abe cried, and with surprising strength, the man shouldered Arthur’s weight, pushing him over the side. Abe barely managed to catch Arthur, crumbling beneath his weight before lowering him gently to his back in the center of the boat next to Lucy. The man remained where he was on the ship’s edge, looking hesitant to join us.

“Come with us!” I shouted. “Quickly!”

But the words had barely left my lips when a vampire appeared behind him, yanking him back on to the ship with ferocious strength.

A second vampire perched himself on the edge of the ship, his hungry black eyes trained on Arthur and his bleeding wounds. Seward began to row away from the ship, but the vampire still eyed us, and I realized his intent with growing apprehension.

The vampire angled his body, preparing to leap off the ship and onto our boat. Seward was rowing quickly, but I knew we wouldn’t get away in time—the vampire was only seconds away from leaping onto our boat.

I reached out to yank Abe’s knife from his pocket and scrambled to my feet, struggling to maintain my balance in the rocking boat. I carefully angled the knife, and as the vampire leapt, I hurled it in his direction with all my might.

The knife sailed through the air to lodge into his throat, and the vampire stiffened before dropping into the sea with a splatter.

I remained standing, reaching for the kukri tucked into my sleeve should the vampire resurface, but I could vaguely see the still form of the creature through the murky waters as he sank to the bottom of the sea. The tension in my body dissipated, and I closed my eyes.

Once my breathing returned to normal, I sat back down. Seward gave me a grateful and impressed nod as he continued to row, while Abe desperately tried to stop Arthur’s bleeding.

Arthur was deathly pale now, his breathing ragged. Abe looked up to meet my eyes, and I could tell by his troubled features that it was too late. Arthur would not survive.

“We’ll soon be at shore,” Seward said, as if reading our minds. “We’ll get you help, Arthur.”

“Abraham. Mina,” Arthur rasped, focusing his pained eyes on us.

We leaned in close. Though he was clearly in great agony, a calm had settled over his face, and he reached a hand out towards Lucy’s still body, weakly entwining his fingers through hers.

“We’re almost at shore,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I gave him a forced smile. “We’re going to get you—”

“Listen to me,” Arthur interrupted, holding our gazes. “You find Jonathan. Do not let him suffer the same fate as my Lucy. You— you must find this creature. This monster,” he coughed, and even through his weakness and pain, I could sense his rage. “And you destroy him.”

“We will destroy him together,” Abe said, but his voice quivered, his eyes glistening with tears.

Arthur’s gaze remained intently on ours, waiting for a response. I reached out to take his other hand, giving it a firm squeeze.

“We will,” I said fervently. “I promise.”

Those seemed to be the words he needed to hear to let go. The light went out in his eyes, and they permanently drifted shut.

13

Adrift

Our boat drifted further and further away from the Demeter. Rain no longer fell from the sky, and the fading rays of the sun painted the previously gray sky with shades of deep blue and violet. The stunning beauty of the waning day was a stark contrast to the horrors we’d just witnessed, as if nature itself wanted to wipe away the memory of those monstrosities.

I sat huddled next to Abe, my gaze sweeping from the Demeter to both Arthur and Lucy’s dead bodies, which lay in the center of the boat. They both looked peaceful and serene, forever linked by death.

Abe was still as a statue, his eyes red with tears as he looked down at his friend’s body. Seward continued to row, his eyes averted from Arthur and Lucy, his mouth set in a grim line.

“This . . . this is my fault,” I said, my voice breaking, as the sting of self-loathing began to stir beneath my grief. “I should not have convinced Arthur to come with us. This—it’s my fight. I can continue on alone.”

“Nonsense. No one is responsible for Arthur’s death except for the creatures who slaughtered him,” Abe bit out harshly. “Arthur insisted on facing them. He had to know he would not survive. It is my belief that he lost the will to live the moment we realized Lucy had been infected. He told me many times that he could not bear to live without her. When a man is determined to die . . . no one can stop him.”

Though I believed Abe’s words, my guilt and grief did not lessen, and I closed my eyes against a fresh wave of tears.

“How’d this happen? How was the ship overrun by those damned creatures? It happened so quickly,” Seward spoke up, rattled. “When I woke up from my nap, Arthur and Lucy weren’t in their cabin. Lucy must’ve gotten free and Arthur went after her. I went up to the deck and those things—they were swarming.”

“The captain did mention ill crew members when we first boarded,” Abe replied. “The shipmates must have already been in the final stages of the transformation—they were most likely infected at the same time.”

“Infected shipmates on a cargo ship that makes regular stops in London? That seems too deliberate to be coincidental,” I said, trying to focus my thoughts as I wiped away my tears.

“I agree,” Abe said, somberly meeting my eyes. “I assume the captain logged every port where the ship has been docked in his journal. It could help us ascertain where the sailors were infected.”

“Bloody hell,” Seward whispered. “If vampires purposefully infected the shipmates . . .”

“Sailors are an ideal way to spread vampirism. They move from port to port, ship to ship. Think of all the great plagues that have hit Europe—many were spread across the continent by sea,” Abe replied.

We fell darkly silent as the implication of his words settled in. I desperately wanted to be wrong about an invasion, but the evidence in its favor was increasing.

“The man who helped us on the Demeter,” I said suddenly, recalling our mysterious savior. “He seemed . . . familiar, but I’ve never seen him before. He knew about vampires and how to kill them. Did either of you notice him? Recognize him?”

“No,” Seward said regretfully. “Whoever he was, he helped save our lives.”

Sorrow flickered through me as I returned my focus to the Demeter, now a small speck on the distant horizon. Our savior had no doubt perished on the ship.

“That ship will eventually arrive on some shore,” Abe said, frowning as he followed my eyes. “Those bodies are going to be found. There will be many questions.”

“The authorities’ll explain it away,” Seward said bitterly. “I’ve seen it with the Ripper murders. ‘A rogue wolf somehow got aboard and attacked the sailors, who were already ill with fever’,” he continued, taking on the authoritative tone of what I assumed was an inspector; it reminded me of the condescending Scotland Yard inspector at the Langham. “They won’t come to the conclusion of vamp—vampires. I’ve seen the damn things and I can hardly even say the word.”

“What do we do about Arthur and Lucy?” I asked. “If we alert the authorities to collect their bodies, there will be an inquest; questions we’re not prepared to answer.”

“We will bury them near the shore,” Abe said, after a long pause, his eyes leaden with grief as he once again looked down at Arthur. “When this is all over, we can arrange to have their bodies returned to England. There is no evidence of our presence on the ship. I have Arthur and Lucy’s bag. Arthur’s friends and family were aware of Lucy’s illness—he told them he would travel with her throughout the continent to see about doctors and would be away for a few weeks. That gives us some time. No one will be expecting them.”

We nodded our agreement. Though I was uneasy at the thought of burying them in some random location, taking the time to fabricate a story about what happened to them for the local authorities would cause an even greater delay and ultimately be futile. Arthur’s final request to destroy the vampire who had taken Jonathan was still fresh in my mind, and I fully intended to keep my promise to him without delay.

We soon spotted a shore in the near distance. Abe reached into his bag, unearthing a compass.

“From where the ship was last, that shore should be southern Holland. After . . . after we bury Arthur and Lucy,” he said, with great difficulty. “We should find the nearest town and arrange for horses to a train station.”

Our boat eventually drifted into shallow waters near the shore, and we all got out to help pull the boat the rest of the way onto the beach. I straightened and took in our surroundings. The beach we stood on curved and winded in both directions like an unfurled ribbon, edged by grassy dunes that gave way to more solid ground. In the near distance, I could see a small fishing village that hugged the shore.

Without speaking, we quickly and quietly moved into action. Abe and Seward carried both Arthur and Lucy’s bodies out of the boat, and I directed them up the dunes to a grassy area of firm ground fifty yards away from the shore. We worked in silence, digging into the moist earth with our bare hands to create a wide, shallow burial area for the both of them. When we had a sizable space, I stood back as they gingerly deposited Arthur and Lucy inside. Together, we somberly buried them in the earth. When they were completely buried, I found nearby rocks and placed them over the makeshift grave.

We stood for a lengthy moment of silence over the grave. Though I had only known Arthur briefly, I could tell that he was a good man, and had loved his wife deeply. I recalled the brief look of love in Lucy’s eyes right before she died, the helpless cries of the dying shipmates aboard the Demeter, our savior being pulled back onto the ship by the vampire, Arthur’s anguished eyes right before he died. Beneath my sorrow, a surge of rage arose, hot and fierce. How many lives had those creatures taken? How many lives would they continue to take if they weren’t stopped?

Soft weeping at my side pulled me from my angry reverie. Abe had pressed his face into his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs. I was momentarily taken aback at the sight; Abe was a man who usually held control over his emotions. The last time I had seen him weep was at Father’s funeral. At the time, my own grief had been so great that I’d barely been able to comfort him.

I turned him towards me. He dropped his hands, and I stepped into the circle of his arms, allowing him to bury his face in my hair and continue to weep. As Abe wept, Seward remained stoic, but I saw that his lips moved in silent prayer.

Abe composed himself and stepped back, giving me a nod of gratitude before he knelt down to place his hand over the grave.

“Goodbye Arthur, my friend. Goodbye Lucy,” he whispered. “I–I am sorry that I failed you both.”

He closed his eyes and murmured a silent prayer, tears spilling from behind his lids, before returning to his feet.

“We should head to that fishing village,” he said, nothing in his tone betraying his outpouring of emotion only seconds earlier. Without waiting for a reply, he hoisted up the bags onto both shoulders, turning towards the dirt path that led away from the shore to the village. I watched him go with concern, knowing that he would bury his grief until it became a part of him. I had done the same with Father’s death.

Seward trailed after him, shouldering his own bag, but I lingered for a moment longer at Arthur and Lucy’s grave. When the time is right, I will tell the world of your bravery. I promise that your deaths won’t be in vain, I vowed.

I joined Abe and Seward as they reached the path, and we continued towards the village, still stricken with mutual grief.

As we neared the outskirts of the fishing village, I could see the fishing boats that crowded the small harbor lined with cottages. A steepled church and town hall dominated the central square, surrounded by more homes and buildings that sprawled out from the square to line the narrow streets. It was a small village, with likely a minuscule population, but when we entered the central square, we saw no signs of life at all. The village looked as if it had been abandoned.

I saw a flicker of movement by the window of one of the cottages that edged the square, and twenty men suddenly raced out of the surrounding homes, armed with knives, scythes, and pickaxes, aiming them directly at our hearts.

We froze as a stocky man of medium height stepped forward, his grip firm on the hilt of a long knife. He wore the same traditional dress of the other men: baggy trousers, a long-sleeved shirt, wooden shoes, and a fisherman’s hat. Like Captain Harper, he had the rough look of a man who was more accustomed to life at sea than on land. He seemed to be the de facto leader of the group; the other men fell back to watch him as he approached.

“Wie ben jij? Waarom ben je hier?!” he demanded.

I spoke some Dutch, but the man’s words were spoken too quickly for me to understand. Abe held up his hands to indicate that we meant no harm, his tone strained but calm as he replied in Dutch.

“There was an accident on our ship, and we are stranded. We only need to borrow horses to get to the nearest train station,” he said.

But the man continued to eye us suspiciously, and I could understand why. Our clothes were still damp from the storm and the sea, splattered with dirt and blood; our eyes shadowed with shock and fatigue. We looked as if we’d just stepped off a battlefield.

The other men began to shout at Abe in rapid Dutch, their voices rising with increased hostility. Abe replied to them in Dutch, but I could tell that he wasn’t calming them down. I anxiously scanned the village, noticing a petite woman who hovered in the doorway of a small house next to the church. She wore a dark brown dress with an apron, her hair tucked beneath a cotton bonnet, her dark eyes wide with worry. In her hand, she clutched a wooden cross. Above her, several cloves of garlic hung above the doorway.

I stiffened when I saw the garlic, realizing the cause of their suspicions. Vampires. This village must have come under attack. It would explain its near abandoned state, and their excessive caution towards three unarmed strangers.

I turned to approach the woman. The men began to shout at me now, and I could feel the ire of their gazes as their attention turned towards me.

“Mina! What are you doing?” Abe shouted in English, panicked, before switching back to Dutch. “Please, she means you no harm!”

The woman met my eyes as I approached, and I saw alarm cross her features before the leader and his men hurriedly surrounded me, stopping me in my tracks. The leader’s eyes were hard as they settled on me, and he stepped forward to press the blade of his knife against my heart. If I moved even slightly, it would pierce through the fabric of the dress to my skin.

“Please! She means you no harm!” Abe shouted again. His words did nothing to ease the suspicion in the man’s look.

“She’s not armed!” Seward shouted.

“Alsjeblieft,” I implored him, in hesitant Dutch. I looked past the man at the woman, who continued to watch me with unease. “I see your garlic, your cross, your weapons. I know what you fear. Bloedzuigers. Vampiers. Monsters.”

The last word was the same in both English and Dutch, and the leader flinched with surprise at my words, while the woman stilled. The armed men exchanged astonished looks as well. My suspicions were correct.

I evenly met their eyes; nothing less than the truth would make them trust us.

“Vampires have attacked us as well. They killed our friends. They took over our ship, and now we’re stranded; that’s why we’re covered in blood. And . . . they took someone I love. From London,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, but it shook as I thought of Jonathan. “We intend to rescue him, and kill the vampires who took him. We just need to borrow horses to continue on our journey. Believe that we understand your fear. But we are on the same side, and we truly mean you no harm.”

For a long and strained moment, the man’s gaze remained on my face, hard and resolute as stone, his knife still pressed against my heart.

“Gijs,” the woman finally spoke, turning to look at the man. “Let her go.”

14

Ijsbran

I slipped out of my stained, damp dress and undergarments, dropping them in a heap on the floor before using the wash bin in front of me to carefully scrub the dried dirt and blood from my skin. I looked around the minuscule bedroom. Furnished only with a narrow bed, a layer of dust covered the floor and walls, and a musky scent hung in the air; it was clear that it had not been used in some time.

Just outside the window, I could hear the low murmur of conversation from Gijs, his wife Katrien—the woman whom I had approached—and a few of the other villagers.

Moments earlier, Gijs had apologized for their hostility after they all lowered their weapons.

“Been attacked many times by those beasts,” he had said gruffly, in halting English. “Learned to be careful of strangers.”

“Careful?” Seward demanded, furious. “You could’ve bloody killed us.”

“Didn’t know if you were one of those beasts,” Gijs replied, his tone hardening. “Those monsters wear human skin.”

“Gijs,” Katrien spoke up. “They’ve been through much. Let them change clothes and take a meal . . . then we talk.”

Gijs did not protest, and Katrien led us to two empty cottages on the edge of the square to wash and change into our spare clothes.

Now, I dried myself off before changing into a tan traveling dress and secured my loose hair back into a low bun before leaving the room. Abe and Seward had joined the others, and we trailed them to Gijs and Katrien’s home.

In their sizable kitchen, Katrien provided us with a meal of bread, herring, and boiled potatoes. Several of the armed men who had surrounded us earlier also crowded inside the kitchen, their former suspicious hostility replaced by curiosity. They were joined by a few women, whom I suspected must have been hiding in other cottages during our approach. They were dressed similarly to Katrien, in simple dark dresses covered with aprons, white caps covering their hair.

As we began to eat, Abe gave them an overview of what happened on the Demeter and back in London. They listened intently, their faces filled with fright, but no one looked particularly surprised. When Abe finished, a brief silence fell before Gijs began to speak.

“Many families lived here,” he said quietly. “They’ve fled.”

“When did the attacks begin?” Seward asked.

Gijs responded in Dutch, speaking slowly enough for me to understand. Abe and I listened, and Abe periodically translated for Seward.

“A year ago. Heard stories about other villages in the countryside, but didn’t think they were true until like things began to happen here. Men, women . . . sometimes entire families vanish from their homes in the night. Cattle and humans drained of blood. Men and women started to appear in the middle of the night, standing at the village edge, just watching us. Thought they were wandering vagrants or gypsies from the countryside—but they attacked and abducted villagers . . . and I knew they were beasts. Vampires.”

My heart did an uneasy catapult, and I exchanged a dark look with Abe. How many stories like these had we heard in the Transylvanian countryside? How many had we dismissed?

“The last attack—” Gijs began, faltering at the memory. “I awoke and looked out to see many of those beasts in the streets. They . . . they pulled men out of their homes and took them away. Two beasts came in my home. I had Katrien and our two children hide in the cellar. I held up a cross, but it did nothing. They laughed, the beasts! They took my knife. I prayed they’d kill me, leave my family be. Didn’t fight when they pounced on me.”

“Gijs,” Katrien whispered, tears spilling from her eyes at his words. Gijs placed his hand over hers, his eyes haunted. The other villagers were silent, their expressions matching Gijs’, and I wondered how many of them had similar stories.

“You don’t have to tell us, if it’s too—” I began, but Gijs shook his head and continued.

“The beasts—they drank from me, but stopped feeding. Looked at me as if I were the monster. Grabbed their throats like they couldn’t breathe, and fled. I was weak, and fainted. When I woke, they’d all gone.”

“You were not infected in anyway? Or transformed?” Abe breathed, his gaze traveling over Gijs with medical scrutiny.

“No,” Gijs replied, sounding amazed as he shook his head. “Days before, I played with my children in the wood. Came across a plant—we call it monnikskap; it’s poison. Touched it with my bare skin. Katrien put together a tegengif before it could kill me.”

I didn’t recognize the word tegengif; Abe translated it as ‘antidote’ for me and Seward.

“Your blood still carried trace of this poison during the attack,” I whispered, my mind racing. “That’s what affected the vampires?”

“Yes. It saved my life,” Gijs replied, solemn.

“Monnikskap,” Abe said, closing his eyes, before continuing in English, “Wolfsbane. Of course!”

“Wolfsbane?” Seward echoed with a puzzled frown.

“In Dutch, it is monnikskap. In English, wolfsbane. The scientific term is aconitum, or aconite—it has many names. It is a poisonous plant, especially deadly to wolves. I recorded it in my notes as a potential poison for vampires, and I started to experiment with it in my lab. But I did not dare test it on Lucy . . . not when I was trying to save her.”

“It’s how we’ve been able to remain here,” Gijs said, his voice now filled with pride. “We sent our children to Amsterdam to live with Katrien’s kin, and many others chose to flee. The rest of us take in the monniksap and antidote—it taints our blood for the beasts. Only one attack since then—no one died.”

He seemed proud of this fact, but Abe frowned at him.

“You should not do that to yourselves. Ingesting poison—even in small amounts—will have a perilous long term effect on your bodies.”

I closely studied Gijs, Katrien and the other villagers. I could now see that they all had an unhealthy pallor to their skin.

“We’ve no choice,” Katrien said, her eyes still shining with tears, speaking in Dutch so rapidly that I had to concentrate to understand her. “We went to the police in Rotterdam . . . even Amsterdam. They think this is the fault of wolves or some illness—they think we are foolish villagers.”

At her words, I was flushed with guilt, and again, Abe and I exchanged glances. We had once thought the same thing of the villagers in Transylvania.

I studied their resolute faces; the desperation paired with defiance in their eyes. I thought of the attack on the Demeter, the abductions in the Langham, and how helpless I had felt during both. How would I feel if my home were constantly suffering the same attacks, and no one believed me? I would be willing to do whatever it took to defend myself and fight back. But they couldn’t poison themselves indefinitely. Soon it would take its toll on their bodies, and the vampires would take advantage. They would be slaughtered. Unless . . .

“Come with us,” I said on impulse.

At my side, Abe stiffened, translating my words for Seward, who looked at me with quiet surprise. Gijs stilled, while Katrien and the others frowned.

“We fight the same evil. We want to fight with villagers like you who’ve been terrorized by those monsters. You must know that you can’t keep poisoning yourselves,” I continued.

But Gijs was unmoved by my words. “This village is home. My family has been here for years. I’ll not leave it to the beasts.” He turned to face his wife and the other villagers who stood around him. “You can go with them if you choose. I stay.”

“I’ll not leave you, mijn geliefde,” Katrien whispered, grasping his hand.

The villagers exchanged glances. After a long silence, a tall stocky man with piercing steel grey eyes and graying red hair stepped forward.

“We stay,” he pronounced. He seemed to speak for the others, as they all nodded in agreement. “Ijsbran is home.”

Disappointment flooded through me as I took in their resolute faces. Having other villagers join us was a crucial part of our plan. Would other villagers we encountered along the way be just as determined to remain behind and defend their villages? If so, how could we even hope to take on such a massive threat alone?

Gijs was defiant as my eyes met his, as if daring me to challenge them. I gave him a nod to indicate that I understood.

“If any of you should change your minds—” Abe spoke up.

“We’ll not,” Katrien interrupted.

“If you do,” Abe gently repeated. “I will leave behind my address in Amsterdam. Any messages you send there will be forwarded to me, wherever I am.”

Gijs changed the subject, telling us that he knew the train schedule well. The nearest train station was in Rotterdam, from which the last train of the day had already departed. He offered us shelter for the night, and then transport to Rotterdam the next morning in one of the village’s fishing boats, which would be faster than traveling overland.

Abe politely began to ply them with questions about the village, and I could see Gijs and the others begin to relax. They must have thought that we’d continue to press them to join us or dissuade them from using the wolfsbane.

Gijs told us of the bustling fishing village that Ijsbran had once been, and the families that once lived here—many of whom had dwelled here for generations. His face darkened as he told us of the villagers who fled, their distress and pain at having to leave, something they did out of desperation rather than desire. Silence fell over the kitchen as he spoke of them, the shared woe on the faces of the villagers plain as they thought of their departed brethren—both alive and dead.

When we were finished with our meal, Katrien led us to the same two cottages that we had changed in. We would rest there for the night. We thanked her, and gathered in the minuscule kitchen of my cottage after she left us.

“I do not think we should depart from Paris as we originally planned,” Abe said. “We should instead depart from Amsterdam—we will not lose much time; we can travel to Munich and continue on to Klausenburgh.”

“We’ve already been delayed enough,” I protested. “Why do you want to depart from Amsterdam?”

“The aconite—wolfsbane. It could be a valuable weapon for us, but not the way the villagers are using it. While I have been away, my assistant has been researching ways of killing vampires en masse and sending me updates via telegram. The last one sent to me in London was quite promising, but I need to get my laboratory in person to assess the possible use of aconite as a weapon.”

I hesitated. The attack on the Demeter had proven how unprepared we were to fight against a group of vampires, but I was reluctant to delay our journey yet again.

“Abe’s right, Mina. You saw what happened on the Demeter. We lost one of our own and barely survived. How do you think we’ll stand against fifty of those bloody things? More?” Seward asked.

“All right,” I reluctantly replied. “But we leave from Amsterdam tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Abe said.

Seward and Abe left to retire to their cottage for the night, but Abe soon returned.

“I am leaving behind Arthur and Lucy’s belongings. It is too cumbersome to keep carrying their bag. Lucy has dresses you may be able to wear.”

I thanked him, though the thought of wearing the deceased woman’s clothes seemed morbid. But I had only brought three dresses with me, and already lost one.

“Abe—” I said hastily, stopping him before he could leave. “You can talk to me about Arthur at any time, if you feel the need. I know that he was your friend.”

“Thank you, but I am all right,” he said, not meeting my eyes as he gave me a forced smile. He turned and left before I could reply.

Before I settled in to bed, I packed two of Lucy’s dresses that proved she had been a fashionable woman: a fine violet walking suit and a rose-colored dress made of silk brocade, along with two veiled hats adorned with satin ribbons.

When I crawled into bed, I held up my engagement ring, thinking of Jonathan as I gazed at the ruby stone. The more I learned about vampires and their attacks, the more I feared for him. Why had they taken him? Had they harmed him?

I awoke early the next morning after a fitful sleep. I washed and dressed, leaving the cottage to cross the village square towards Gijs and Katrien’s home. Abe and Seward were already in the kitchen, seated opposite Gijs and some of the villagers, speaking in hushed tones over a breakfast of potatoes, bread and chicory, discussing the past attacks on the village. I frowned, irritated that I hadn’t been awoken to join them, but Katrien intercepted me.

“I told them to let you sleep,” Katrien said with a warm smile as she handed me a plate.

Breakfast was over quickly, and when we were finished eating, Gijs led us to the docks on the very edge of the village that hugged the shore.

A small fishing boat was waiting for us, but before we could board, Katrien presented Abe with a small pouch. He opened it to reveal at least a cluster of wolfsbane plants, securely nestled inside.

“I am grateful, but we cannot use this,” Abe said immediately, handing the pouch back to Katrien. “It is too dangerous to travel with these as they are, and there are only three of us. You have far more need of—”

“Plant grows plentiful here,” Gijs interrupted, reaching out to push the pouch back towards Abe.

I could tell that they would refuse to take it back, so I reached out to accept the pouch. Abe gave me a sharp look, but I smiled politely at Gijs and Katrien.

“Thank you. And thank you for all of your kindness.” I said, tucking the pouch into my bag.

Katrien returned my smile, but her dark eyes were hard as granite, and she replied in English.

“Thank us by killing those beasts.”

15

Symbiosis

Gijs transported us to one of the many docks at Rotterdam’s busy port. He bid us a solemn farewell, urging us to be careful.

We took a cab to a telegraph office, where we each sent wires. I sent a wire to Jonathan’s boss Peter Hawkins, alerting him that Jonathan was missing if he wasn’t aware, and inquiring about what he and Jonathan had discussed the night of the ball. Abe sent a wire to his lab assistant to let him know of our pending arrival and to relay instructions, while Seward wired both Scotland Yard and a police contact of his in Amsterdam. He told us he wanted to inquire about any similar incidents of murders or disappearances in Amsterdam that echoed the ones in London.

During the brief train ride from Rotterdam to Amsterdam, Abe was oddly quiet, his haunted gaze trained out of the window, likely thinking of Arthur. Across from us, Seward read through the captain’s journal, raking his hand through his hair. I was consumed by thoughts of my own. I thought of Gijs, Katrien and the other villagers poisoning themselves to survive. How many other villages throughout Europe had suffered such attacks? What had they resorted to in order to survive?

I managed to set aside my worried thoughts when we arrived at the train station in Amsterdam. At my urging, we purchased train tickets for later that same day to Klausenburgh, with a connection through Munich.

We emerged from the station and quickly found a cab. As it clattered away, I took in the outskirts of the city, struck with a sudden rush of nostalgia. I had accompanied Father here when he attended lectures at the Royal Academy of Sciences, or gave guest lectures of his own at the Municipal University of Amsterdam.

But most of my memories of the city were linked with Abe. Though Abe had been born in Harleem, he spent most of his adult years in Amsterdam, and for me, the city had become synonymous with him.

While Father attended to his own matters, Abe would take me on long exploratory walks around the city, from Dam Square to the Grachtengordel neighborhood, where the myriad of canals built during the seventeenth century hinted at the city’s Golden Age. We had spent many hours in Vondel Park, either cycling along its paths or finding a quiet space to read. It was during one of our walks in the park where we first confessed our love for each other. We had initially decided to keep our courtship a secret from Father, uncertain as to how he would react, but planned to inform him of our engagement right before his final tragic trip. And though I ended our relationship after Father’s death over my guilt, shock and grief, I greatly regretted that Father had never known of our love.

I glanced at Abe, wondering if he had been struck with similar memories, but his features were unreadable as he focused on the passing sights of the city.

Abe lived close to the train station, so we decided to stop briefly at his home for extra clothes, supplies and weapons before heading to our destinations.

“There are dresses in one of the guest rooms, should you need more,” Abe informed me, when the cab stopped at his townhouse.

At his words, I felt an abrupt, surprising and completely inappropriate twinge of jealousy. I knew that Abe wasn’t married—he would have mentioned such a thing. A mistress, perhaps? I doubted that as well. Even before Abe and I had begun courting, he had never seemed concerned with women; his only focus had been on his studies and research. But Abe was undeniably handsome; a well-educated man of the middle class, even if he would eschew such a distinction. I didn’t expect him to remain unwed forever, especially when I myself was engaged, yet my chest still tightened at the thought.

Abe unlocked the door and led us inside. From the narrow entryway, I could see the drawing room from where I stood; it looked just as it had when I’d last been here.

There was no indication that anyone other than Abe lived here. The walls were mostly bare, the few items of wooden furniture simple. Like Father’s study back home, every surface, including the floor, was practically brimming over with stacks of books and papers. I knew that Abe had a housekeeper come over on occasion, but he had once told me he hated his things being fussed over. He preferred a sort of organized chaos when it came to his belongings.

“I left in a bit of a haste,” he apologized, following my eyes to the cluttered drawing room. “Seward, I have more knives in the cellar down the hall. Mina, do you remember where—”

“Yes,” I interrupted, moving of my own accord up the stairs to the second floor, where I headed towards the guest bedroom at the end of the hall. It was a small room, dominated by the bed, wardrobe and central table, with a narrow window that looked out onto the street below. It was the room I stayed in when we visited Amsterdam. Here, I would read late into the night, waiting until Father fell asleep in his own guest room. Abe and I would then find each other, tucking ourselves away in the drawing room or slipping outside, where we would walk hand in hand along the canals. How happy I had been in those days, unaware of the darkness that lie ahead.

A shimmer of tears clouded my eyes. I blinked them back, overwhelmed by all the memories the city had inadvertently brought to the surface, and made my way to the wardrobe.

I froze in astonishment when I opened it, finding several of my traveling dresses and cloaks folded inside. We had visited here so often that I had begun to leave clothes here. With the suddenness of Father’s death and subsequent end of my relationship with Abe, I had forgotten that they were even here. Why had Abe never gotten rid of them or sent them to me?

The question was still on my mind as I changed into a brown traveling dress and hat that fit as well as I remembered, and carefully folded one more into my bag, leaving Lucy’s finer dresses behind.

Abe and Seward were waiting for me in the entrance hall as I descended the stairs. Noticing the dress I wore, Abe avoided my eyes and asked if I was ready to go, to which I gave him an abrupt nod. Seward studied us with curiosity. Perceptive as always, he had picked up on the slight tension between us.

When we made our way down Abe’s quiet residential street to flag down cabs, I felt it. The now familiar and chilling sensation of a cold gaze on the back of my neck.

I whirled, frantically looking around, but the street around us was empty. Abe and Seward stopped mid-stride, looking back at me with puzzled frowns. I took another look around the empty street before meeting their eyes. I could no longer dismiss this.

“For the past week, I’ve sensed someone watching me. Back in London at my parents’ graves, then at Tilbury Docks right before we boarded the Demeter. And just now,” I concluded.

Abe stiffened at my words, turning to scan the empty street, while Seward looked cautious.

“You are certain?” he asked.

“Yes. The vampire who took Jonathan at the Langham . . . he looked right at me, and I felt the same chill. The—the same chill I felt the night Father was murdered, when that creature looked at me.”

“Was the sensation of being watched cold? A sort of frost on your skin?” Abe asked.

“Yes,” I replied, surprised by his accuracy.

“I have felt a similar sensation,” Abe said, answering my silent question. “The night Robert was killed, the ball, the docks, and just now.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” I asked, stunned.

“I thought I was being unnecessarily apprehensive––paranoid,” Abe said. “But if you have sensed it as well . . .”

Seward now looked alarmed, straightening to search the street around us.

“I’ve not noticed anything. You think . . . you think one of those things are following us?” he asked. “How come we haven’t been attacked? It’s had plenty of opportunity.”

“I don’t know. But after all that’s happened, I doubt it’s a mere coincidence,” I replied.

“We will just have to remain vigilant,” Abe said, with firm resolve. “Are you both armed?”

I nodded, my hand instinctively going to my bag, where I had stored my kukri knives. Seward nodded as well, indicating the revolver beneath his jacket.

After another cautious look around, we continued towards the busy street of Haarlemmerstrat. We took separate cabs, agreeing to meet at the train station at half past five. But as our cab transported me and Abe to the Municipal University of Amsterdam, I was still filled with anxiety over who—or what—was following us, and I continually scanned the streets around us. When the cab dropped us at the university, fear continued to simmer beneath my awareness, and I barely took in my surroundings as Abe led me into one of the baroque-style buildings, down a corridor and into a large empty classroom.

A pretty young woman with delicate features and flaxen blonde hair haphazardly tucked into a bun was seated at one of the desks, furiously writing down notes in a journal, deep in concentration. She straightened when she noticed us standing at the doorway.

“Your assistant?” I asked, turning to face Abe with a frown. “Where is he?”

“He,” Abe said, sounding amused, “is standing right in front of you.”

The young woman set down her journal and nervously stepped forward.

“Mina, this is Greta Steinder, my research assistant. Greta, this is Mina Murray,” Abe said politely, still looking amused by my quiet astonishment.

“Mina! I mean, Miss Murray. I heard much of you . . . and your father. Doctor Van Helsing gave me some of your father’s work to read. I must have read his paper on comparative anatomy in vertebrates four times. It is such a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Greta said.

I felt an instant warmth towards her that replaced my surprise. It was the first time since his death that I’d met someone who hadn’t disparaged my father and complimented his work.

“I’m pleased to meet you as well,” I said, smiling. “And please, call me Mina.”

“Your wire seemed urgent, Doctor Van Helsing,” Greta said, returning my smile before looking at Abe with concern.

“Much has happened,” Abe replied, expelling a sigh. “I am afraid we do not have much time. We are on our way to Transylvania. We depart later today. I will try to explain as much as I can, but I need to know what you have discovered during my absence.”

“Transylvania?” Greta echoed, her brown eyes going wide, and I could tell that she had many questions. But she seemed to understand our urgency, and turned to head out of the classroom, gesturing for us to follow. “Please come with me.”

While we made our way down the corridor, Abe told her what he had observed in London, the abductions at the Langham, our experiences on the Demeter, and the villagers who took us in. She went pale as she listened, and turned to give me a look of genuine sympathy when Abe mentioned Jonathan’s abduction.

She stopped at a set of double doors at the end of the corridor, unlocking them and stepping inside. Abe and I trailed her inside.

It looked more like a zoo than a lab, filled to the brim with cages containing various small animals—minks, martens, voles, badgers.

I studied the animals, stiffening with dread. Even in animals I could recognize the effects of vampirism, with their abnormally sharp teeth and unnaturally colored eyes of either black or red.

“These animals were roaming the countryside,” Abe said, stepping around Greta to enter the lab further, examining the animals with a critical eye. “Greta discovered many of them on her own, and she brought them in.”

Abe moved towards a caged badger, gesturing for me to come closer. It growled as I neared, and I moved towards it with great hesitation.

“Do you see these two prick marks?” Abe asked, pointing towards two large pin-like holes in the badger’s throat area. “They are similar to marks we have seen on human bodies drained of blood.”

I studied the badger’s wound, before turning to study the other animals. They all bore similar marks.

“For some vampires, especially new ones, it may be easier to hunt and feed on animals than humans,” Abe said. “In our observations, vampirism acts more like a disease in animals than as a transformative property as it does in humans. Though there are some transformative traits. As you can see, they behave as if they have been infected by a particularly virulent form of rabies. They become increasingly aggressive, and they reject all food but the blood of other animals.”

“How is it spread among animals?” I asked, dreading the answer.

“It appears to simply be contagious. One infected animal drains another of its blood. If that animal survives, it displays similar vampiric traits. Not all animals become infected, but many do. The effect seems to vary—as it does in humans.”

“Can they infect humans as well?” I asked.

“Greta?” Abe asked, and I started for a moment. I had been so focused on what he was telling me that I’d nearly forgotten Greta was there, silently hovering behind us. “Would you like to answer this one?”

Greta nodded, flushing at our renewed attention on her. “No, they cannot. I was bitten while handling two of the martens, but other than smarting a bit, I was fine. Their bites seem to only work on other animals.”

A flicker of relief went through me. I did not want to learn of another source of vampirism in nature.

“You mentioned in your wire you have made a discovery?” Abe asked.

“Yes,” Greta replied. “Several days ago, one of the martens escaped from its cage and killed the animal that infected it. Once that animal died, the ones he infected were cleared of their vampiric traits, and they returned to their pre-infected states. I’ve been observing them, and they remain free of vampirism.”

As she spoke, she led us to a row of cages in the back of the lab that contained even more badgers and martens. Unlike the other animals, they appeared completely docile and . . . natural. I found it hard to believe that they had been infected at all.

“Killing the host cured the animals it infected. It’s just as you’ve theorized about vampirism being a biologically symbiotic relationship, Doctor Van Helsing,” Greta continued, her voice rising with eagerness. “The host is linked to the one it creates. Once the host dies, the link is broken and the infection cured.”

I recalled Lucy’s strange symbiotic link with the vampire who transformed her. A symbiotic relationship made sense.

“A cure,” I whispered, filled with a sudden rush of hope. If Jonathan had been bitten and transformed, it would be possible to cure him if we killed the one who turned him.

“There are some caveats,” Greta quickly added. “We don’t know if the effect will be the same in humans and vampires. Even if it is, the host needs to be killed quickly after infection. The infected animals who were cured had been infected within the past week. Others who had been infected for many weeks remained so.”

“Greta, your discovery is still very impressive. Well done,” Abe said, giving her a look of admiration. At his compliment, Greta flushed once more and nodded her thanks. Though I could tell their relationship did not go beyond the boundaries of student and professor, a small stab of jealousy pierced me at the exchange.

“This is a natural extension of what we have theorized, and what you proposed back on the Demeter, Mina,” Abe said, turning back to me.

“Then we must get to Jonathan immediately,” I said, my hope slowly becoming panic. “If he’s already been bitten or transformed by those monsters—”

“We do not know that,” Abe said gently, before turning back to Greta. “In my wire, I requested capsules of aconite. Were you able to procure them from Professor Christison in the medical school?”

“Yes. I told him it was for an experiment. He didn’t question me too much,” she said, giving him a reassuring smile before moving over to the far corner of the lab, where she opened a desk drawer and unearthed a small box. She handed it to Abe, and he opened it, examining the capsules inside for several long moments.

“I’m going to ask you to do something,” he said suddenly, looking back up at Greta. “It falls beyond your duties as my laboratory assistant. If you do not want to do it, then please—”

“No,” Greta said, pulling herself up to her full height, as if she were a soldier reporting for battle. “I want to help.”

Abe moved to the doors and closed them.

“I need you to contact a gunsmith friend of mine, Johan Derichs. He also makes other weapons. He has a shop near Nieuwmarkt. Tell him I need multiple wooden stakes constructed and shipped to me in Klausenburgh, immediately. Mina, we can douse the stakes with the aconite. Hopefully, they will do great damage to any vampires we encounter. If he inquires what they are for, tell him I am traveling to a rural area in the eastern countryside overrun with rabid wolves, and the stakes are for personal defense,” Abe continued.

I doubted that explanation would satisfy the gunsmith’s curiosity, but I kept silent. Greta did not look surprised or uneasy by the request, and promised to contact him as soon as we left. When Abe stepped aside to write out detailed instructions for the gunsmith, I asked her how she came to know about vampires and work with Abe.

Her tale was similar to the villagers of Ijsbran. She was from a village that suffered from mysterious disappearances, strange people appearing in the night, cattle drained of blood, and then a final attack in which her grandparents were killed.

“I heard rumors of Doctor Van Helsing investigating the alleged ‘wolf attacks’. I came to see him. I told him that based on the evidence, I didn’t think they were wolf attacks at all. He was the only one to believe me,” she said, her eyes glistening with tears.

Abe stopped writing and met her eyes with concern. She gave him a quick nod to indicate that she was all right, but I reached out to place my hand over hers. I knew the gesture was far too intimate for someone I had just met, but I felt a strong solidarity with her. She had also lost loved ones to those monsters.

Greta gave me a grateful smile as I removed my hand, moving to a long desk against the wall to pick up a small stack of journals and books.

“Here is the research you asked for,” she said, stepping forward to hand them to Abe. “I’ve also included notes on my experiments with the infected animals.”

“Thank you, Greta. You have been more helpful than you can ever realize. I will be in touch as much as I can during my travels,” Abe said.

“Miss Mur—Mina,” Greta corrected herself, as we made our way to the door, her eyes wide with worry. “Doctor Van Helsing. Whatever is happening . . . it frightens me. Please be careful.”

16

Pursued

When we met Seward at the train station, he informed us that dozens of men from several tenement buildings had been reported missing to the police. It proved what we already knew—that the abductions were also occurring here and in other European cities, but my heart still plummeted with dread at the news.

“News of the Demeter,” Seward added, handing us a folded up newspaper. “It ran aground in northern England last night.”

Abe took the newspaper, briefly scanning the headline and article, before handing it to me with a frown. The headline screamed:

TRAGEDY ABOARD THE DEMETER!

The brief article that followed mentioned the bodies of the crew and its captain, who appeared to have perished from a combination of a mysterious fever and some sort of wolf attack, as there were many bites found on the bodies. No animals were found aboard the ship. The assumption was made that the wolf had made its way on land once the ship ran aground, and all nearby residents should take caution. The police and coroner were still investigating.

“It’s as I predicted. Some excuse to explain what can’t be explained,” Seward said with a heavy sigh. “I read through the captain’s journal. He mentioned his men acting oddly before they fell ill, and he noted the ship’s stops––several at a port in Varna. Varna’s not far from Transylvania. There’re many brothels in Varna. I’ve an uncle who’s a sailor,” he added, with a defensive flush at our raised eyebrows. “He and the other sailors would . . . entertain themselves there when they docked. A brothel’s a good place to infect a group of sailors.”

We fell silent at his words. If Seward was right, how many other sailors had been transformed? Were other ships filled with sailors on the verge of transformation?

Our somber silence persisted as we boarded the train, finding seats in a compartment near the rear. When the train pulled away from the station, I looked around at the other passengers. There was a young couple seated opposite us, their heads bent closely together, their hands subtly entwined in their laps, likely off to a honeymoon or some sort of romantic sojourn together. Behind them, an austere-looking businessman had his face buried in his newspaper, his lips silently moving as he read. A harried young mother chased her boisterous young son down the aisle; she quickly caught up to him, taking his hand and leading him to the back of the train. They were all caught up in their own trivial matters, unaware of the threat of vampires, and I was suddenly envious of their ignorance. Only days ago my largest concern had been dealing with Horace’s snobbery and trying to win Mary’s favor.

At my side, Abe took out Arthur’s map of Transylvania and spread it out on his lap. Our planned route was encircled, and a large mark indicated our destination. The fortress nestled in the midst of the Carpathians.

“I had Greta gather some information from the university library about fortresses in the region. There is one in particular that matches what we are looking for—Napoeri Castle. It is massive and rather isolated. An ideal place to serve as a prison and build an army. It was built in medieval times and seems to have fallen into disuse a century ago. Many noble families once resided in its walls: the Bathorys, the Draculesti, the Skalas . . . perhaps the one we are looking for is connected to one of these families. We can try to find out more from the locals as we get closer. When we arrive in Klausenburgh, it should take a day or two of riding with stops before we arrive at the fortress—there are several villages we will pass along the way. It is quite likely that they have been attacked by these creatures. We can rally them to join us if they are willing.”

“If there’s anyone left,” Seward added. At our sharp looks, he held up his hands defensively. “It’s something to consider. Look at how empty Ijsbran was. If villagers in Transylvania have been attacked for years, why would they stay?”

“Pride. Look at how determined Gijs and the others were to defend their village. There must be others like them,” I said, though I was trying to convince myself more than Seward.

Seward nodded, but he did not look entirely convinced. He excused himself to head to the smoking compartment, leaving us alone. Once he’d left, I looked back down at the map. What if Seward was right, and the majority of villagers had fled?

“If only we’d believed the villagers when they first told us of all this,” I whispered, speaking my regret out loud for the first time. “Perhaps then Father would still be alive. Same with Arthur, Lucy, and countless others. I should have listened to you.”

“Roads like that are endless if you let yourself travel them,” Abe replied. “Even if we had believed the villagers then, no one else would have believed us, as we have seen. We would still be powerless, and the same events would have unfolded. Arthur would still be . . .” His voice wavered, and he fell silent for a moment before continuing, “It is my belief that we had to be forced to embark on this journey.”

“I keep thinking about Father’s missing journal,” I confessed. “I know that he did not take it with him on his final trip—it wasn’t with his other belongings. And his journal entries in the year prior to his death are not as detailed. I think he was purposefully leaving something out.”

“I noticed it as well. Such brevity was not like him at all. It is fair to assume that he was hiding his observations about vampires. He was a Cambridge professor and a respected scientist. If word got out that he was treating creatures of folklore as legitimate science . . .”

“His scientific reputation was ruined anyway,” I murmured, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice.

“There are those who know otherwise,” Abe said reassuringly. “He was a brilliant man. Many respected him, regardless of how he died.”

He refolded the map, tucking it away in his bag.

“Remember when we first arrived at that village in the foothills of the Carpathians? We observed a pair of lynxes from afar. Robert’s excitement was so great, it was as if he had discovered the species himself.”

I could tell that Abe was purposefully changing the subject, attempting to inject some levity into our dark conversation. But I went along with the shift, smiling at the memory.

“Of course,” I replied. “He kept whispering that lynxes had been extinct in England for thousands of years. He never thought he’d see one. I think he was cross with us for not sharing his excitement.”

It was a relief to discuss something other than vampires and their looming threat, and we began to trade stories of our research travels with Father. The Alps to observe herds of chamois; the shores of England to study aquatic animals of the North Sea; rural France to document rare species of insects in its forests. Abe made no mention of our secret courtship or engagement, but it was beneath the surface of every memory and every story, and I had to actively push those particular memories to the back of my mind.

“I must confess, there is something I cannot envision,” Abe said, during a brief lull.

“What?” I asked.

“You becoming a Harker and officially joining London society. Having afternoon tea, arranging dinner parties. Becoming a matriarch like Mary Harker. Do you know that you looked perfectly miserable at the ball while trying to appear happy? I know your forced smiles exceedingly well,” Abe said, looking mildly amused as he studied me. “I am not saying you do not love Jonathan,” he added at my affronted expression. “Our journey proves how much you do. It . . . it is just not the life I envisioned for you.”

The lightness I had just felt quickly vanished, and my body went rigid with defensive tension. His statements echoed the anxieties I already had about marrying Jonathan, but I didn’t want him to know how accurate his musings were.

“Jonathan’s life will be my life,” I said, turning away from his perceptive gaze. “It will bring me great joy to become his wife. I certainly couldn’t have wandered around Europe conducting experiments forever. Eventually, I was going to have to settle down.”

“We planned to never settle,” Abe said, his voice so low that I had to strain to hear him. “Remember?”

I said nothing, but I did remember. Our future was to be dedicated to both travel and research in Father’s field of comparative anatomy—a field we both found immensely fascinating. We were to conduct experiments all over the world and jointly publish our findings. But that was before.

After Father’s death, I had been so stricken that the thought of resuming my travels and scientific pursuits was too devastating, even with Abe at my side. The life that I had built for myself in London was safe. A refuge. I just wanted to return to it with Jonathan.

“I’m content with my life back in London,” I said. “I just want to bring Jonathan home.”

“Content?” Abe pressed.

“Abe—” I began, exasperated.

“All I want is your happiness, Mina. That is all I have ever wanted. But I will say nothing more about the matter,” Abe said, looking away from me.

Seward soon returned, reeking heavily of tobacco, and we passed the time in silence as the train made its way further and further away from Amsterdam, and then south through the German countryside. I tried to read through Greta’s research, but Abe’s words dominated my thoughts, and I was unable to concentrate.

I excused myself to head to the smoking compartment, and I sensed Abe’s eyes on me as I walked away. I hated the smell of tobacco, but I was restless and needed to move around.

The smoking compartment was empty when I entered. I remained standing to look out of the windows at the passing countryside. Night had fallen, and the trees outside looked like menacing shadows as the train hurtled past.

I felt a presence in the compartment behind me, and turned to see Seward enter, his focus also on the passing countryside. He made no move to smoke, which I suspected was for my benefit, and we stood in companionable silence for a lengthy stretch of time.

“I was born on a farm outside of London. There are times when I miss it—the countryside,” he said finally, his eyes wistfully lingering on a farm as we passed it by. “But I hated it when I was a boy. I just wanted to live in London. My father thought I’d become a farmer like him. I–I still thought he’d be proud when I joined Scotland Yard. When I told my parents, he just said nothing, and my mother wept like a baby. I think they still hope I’ll change my mind and go back to the farm. With what I’ve seen . . . that doesn’t seem like such a mad prospect,” he added gruffly. He tried to give me a light smile, but it was somewhat pained.

“What we’ve learned is indeed terrifying,” I said. “I think that’s why I was in denial for so long about what was happening. I didn’t want to believe it. Thank you for joining us, Seward,” I added impulsively. “I should have thanked you before. I’m glad you are with us.”

“I just want to stop these bloody—” he began, abruptly stopping himself. “I’m sorry about the swearing, Mina. I keep forgetting you’re a woman,” he said, and then flushed. “Ah . . . I meant—”

“It’s quite all right,” I said. “You can swear around me, I won’t disintegrate. Bloody hell, Jesus Christ, devil, damn. There. I’m still standing.”

Seward looked both astonished and impressed by the oaths, blinking, his eyes wide. I couldn’t stop the smile that curved my lips at the look on his face. This was a man who had seen gruesome dead bodies and vampires feasting on humans, yet the sight of a lady swearing left him stupefied. Seward sheepishly returned my smile, as if reading my thoughts.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. “My intentions were selfish when I first joined the Ripper investigation,” he continued, looking serious now. “I wanted to be the one to solve it and get promoted to first class inspector. Maybe I’m still that boy who wants to make his father proud. Then I saw the murder victims up close . . .” he trailed off, his face going pale at the memory.

“What made you think the killer wasn’t human?” I asked, lowering my voice, though we were the only ones in the compartment.

“The way the bodies were drained of blood; the way the killer could just disappear. It seemed impossible to be the work of one—or even several—men. I contacted Abe not long after I had the first suspicions. He’s a bit mad himself,” Seward said, his mouth twitching with the beginnings of a smile. “My police contact in Amsterdam introduced us years ago when Abe consulted on a case. Abe’s always willing to believe the impossible—the mark of a true scientist.”

As I returned his smile, I froze. I once again felt the terrible and familiar sensation of cold eyes on my skin. I turned away from Seward, stepping forward to scan the carriage beyond the smoking compartment, but there was nothing amiss, and I saw no one looking at us.

“What?” Seward asked.

“I sensed it again,” I whispered. “There’s a vampire on the train with us.”

* * *

“How do we search the train for a vampire?” Seward whispered, in a low hiss.

We had just returned to our seats to inform Abe what I’d sensed. Abe immediately set down his journal, his hand straying to his coat pocket, where I suspected he had stored his weapon.

“They look human, don’t they? It’s how he’s been able to follow us.” Seward continued, darting a quick glance around at the other passengers, as if to illustrate his point.

“Even if we could identify the creature, we need to be careful,” Abe whispered. “We do not want to force a confrontation, not with so many bystanders. When we stop in Munich, instead of switching trains, perhaps we can draw him out—somewhere safe and isolated. We can take a later train.”

“No,” I objected. “We’ve already been delayed enough. If the creature wanted to harm us, it would have happened by now. We’ll have to act like nothing’s amiss, and then force a confrontation when we arrive in Klausenburgh. That way we don’t lose any time.”

“You both assume he doesn’t want to harm us,” Seward argued. “And how do we know there’s only one?”

“Even more reason for us to not force a confrontation here,” I said, though I felt a shiver of apprehension at the thought of more than one vampire pursuing us. “We don’t want to risk innocent people being harmed.”

We agreed to stay close together until the train arrived in Klausenburgh, and to keep our weapons close at hand. Once we disembarked and picked up the shipment of stakes, we would ride out of the city as planned, allowing the creature to follow us until we could surround him.

When our train arrived at the Munich train station, we tried to keep up the guise that we were unaware of being followed. I subtly studied each passenger as we changed trains, but they all seemed innocuous and most importantly—human.

I was still on edge when our train departed Munich, wondering why we were being followed, and why the creature had not attacked us yet. Was he waiting for the perfect moment to strike? Was it a mistake to try and confront him in an isolated area?

I forced myself to concentrate on reading through Father’s journal and Greta’s research notes. When I glanced up sometime later, I saw that Abe had somehow managed to fall asleep, his head resting against the window, his wavy hair falling messily over his forehead as he dozed, his coat spread out on his lap. Abe was a man who lived very much in his mind, and it seemed that the only time his mind was at rest was when he slept. He had once angrily told me that he lost hours of thinking time when he slept, and I smiled at the memory.

Without thinking, I leaned forward to tuck his coat around him as a makeshift blanket, something I did many times on our previous travels together. The intimacy of the gesture didn’t cross my mind until I found Seward studying me closely. I dropped my hands back into my lap, as if I had been caught stealing, and got to my feet.

“I’m going to use the lavatory,” I mumbled. At his concerned frown, I gestured towards my sleeve to indicate that I was armed with my kukri.

I made my way to the lavatory at the rear of the train, nearly colliding with a man who stood up from his seat. I looked up to apologize, but the words died on my lips.

I recognized him. It was the mysterious man who had rescued us on the Demeter. He was dressed like a traveling businessman, donning a bowler hat and frock coat. His silver eyes flashed with urgency as he looked down at me.

“What—” I began, astonished.

“You and your friends need to get off this train,” he interrupted. “Now.”

“What are—”

The wheels of the train began to emit a sharp squeal as it slowed down in speed, cutting off my sentence. I dimly realized that the conductor was trying to stop the train.

“Get to the ground!” the man shouted, as the squealing increased to a great wail, and the walls of the train around us began to rattle.

The train violently lurched to the side, and I was thrown to the ground by the force. All around me, passengers screamed and cried out in alarm.

“Find something to hold onto!” the man shouted to both me and the hysterical passengers, reaching out to brace his body on the wall behind him.

Dazed and horrified, I remained on the ground, reaching out to grip the wall behind me, silently praying that Abe and Seward had taken cover. The carriage began to tilt as the train careened on to its side, the wheels now letting out an ear-splitting howl.

“Hold on, Mina!” the man shouted. “Hold on!”

I barely registered my confusion at the man knowing my name; I was too overcome by panic.

The train was about to derail.

I continued to hold on to the wall behind me as the train began to veer off the tracks, and the sounds of screams, cries and screeching tires soon faded into silence.

17

Massacre

I awoke to the smell of acrid flames and blood.

Disoriented, I blinked up at the wide expanse of night sky, my mind temporarily blank. As pained cries began to punctuate the stillness around me, my memories returned with a sudden grim clarity. The mysterious man’s warning. The wheels squealing on the tracks. The keening howl of crushing steel as the train turned on to its side.

I sat up, crying out at the sharp pain that pierced my lower back as I moved. Wincing, I looked around. We were deep in the countryside, and the now gnarled and twisted train tracks were surrounded on both sides by thick forest.

Dozens of wounded or dead passengers were strewn all around me. I had been thrown several yards from the train, which mostly lay on its side like a mortally wounded animal. Half of the carriages were completely crumpled and destroyed.

The surviving passengers looked dazed, numb and horrified. I recognized some of them. The austere businessman, who now lay still on his back several yards away from me, his face streaked with blood. The mother and son, who sat next to the gnarled train tracks, the mother rocking her son, who was sobbing into her bosom, her face pale with shock. The young couple sat next to them; the woman had her paramour’s head in her lap, sobbing. He lay stock still, his open eyes unseeing, blood soaking his shirt.

As I emerged from my shock, I became chillingly certain that this had been no accident. We were not safe here.

Grimacing, I forced myself to my feet. My entire body was sore and bruised, my left shoulder and lower back were badly sprained, but that appeared to be the extent of my injuries. I had to find Abe and Seward; we had to somehow get these people to safety.

“Mina . . .”

I turned to find the same man who had warned me on the train limping towards me. There was a deep gash etched into the side of his angular jaw, and he looked abjectly relieved to see me. I took a jerky step back at his approach. Though I’d thought that it was a vampire who had been following us, I knew that this man was our mysterious pursuer.

“You . . . you knew this was going to happen,” I whispered. “You’ve been following us.”

“Yes,” he said, without hesitation. “I’m Gabriel. There’s no time for me to explain who I am. I don’t know how long it will take for help to arrive, but no one’s safe here. Come.”

I had no doubt of the truth of his words, but I still hesitated, not quite trusting him. I saw a flicker of impatience in his eyes as he stepped forward, lowering his voice.

“The train derailment was caused by vampires,” he said bluntly. “They were the ones to twist these tracks. Believe me, they are very near. We must get everyone away from here. Your friends are on the other side of the tracks. One of them is injured. ”

He turned and limped away without waiting for my response. Though I was still vaguely suspicious of him and his knowledge of vampires, my concern for Abe and Seward outweighed it. I hurried after him, ignoring the sharp ache in my back and shoulder as I moved, and we made our way through the disoriented passengers who stumbled about the wreckage.

Further ahead, just on the edge of the forest, I spotted Abe and Seward. Seward had Abe propped against a tree, and Abe was eerily still.

At the sight of him, my fear turned to full-fledged panic and I broke into a run, the pain in my bruised body forgotten as I reached them, sinking to my knees opposite Abe.

A piece of shrapnel was embedded into Abe’s side, and I pressed my hands to my mouth to stifle a strangled sob when I saw how much blood seeped from his wound, and how still and pale he was. I was taken back to the night I found Father, still and silent, lying in a pool of his own blood. Not again, I screamed in my mind. Not Abe.

Seward was speaking, but my agitation was so great that I couldn’t make out his words. Ignoring him, I reached out a trembling hand towards Abe’s throat to feel for a pulse.

My hand froze in mid-air. I could not bear to confirm for certain that he was dead, that I had lost another man I loved. I closed my eyes. Unable to quell my grief, I pressed my hand to my mouth as I began to weep.

A hand covered mine, and I almost yanked it away, assuming that it was Seward’s.

“I am not quite dead yet, Mina.”

The voice was raspy and weak, and my eyes flew open. Abe’s blue eyes were partially open now, focused on me, and though I could tell he was in pain, he gave me one of his easy smiles. The enormous weight of grief lifted from my shoulders; my relief so immense that I nearly began to weep again. I leaned forward to place my hands on his face, my eyes still wet with tears, unable to form any words, still shaken by the possibility of losing him.

“We need to get something for your wound, and then we need to get everyone out of here,” Gabriel said, his words forcing me back to the present. Abe’s eyes lifted from mine to focus on Gabriel, recognition in his eyes.

“You . . . you were on the Demeter,” Seward said, frowning at Gabriel in confusion.

“I’ll explain who I am later. There are abandoned farmhouses just east of here. We can take able-bodied passengers with us to get help, but we must move quickly,” Gabriel said.

“But Abe’s wound . . . we need to remove the shrapnel,” I said, looking down at the shrapnel still lodged in Abe’s side.

“No. It needs to stay in. It is holding the wound together,” Abe said, speaking with difficulty. “If you pull it out, I could very well bleed to death. I would need some sort of tourniquet to prevent that from happening.”

“Then we need to—” Seward began.

“Quiet,” Gabriel said abruptly, getting to his feet and scanning the surrounding trees. His entire body went rigid, his skin draining of color.

“What? What is it?” I asked.

“It’s too late,” he said, briefly closing his eyes.

I looked at him, dread tearing through my body. I knew who he was referring to. What he was referring to. And I could tell by Abe and Seward’s panicked features that they also knew. I thought of the catastrophe on the Demeter and the abductions at the Langham as I took in the frightened and wounded passengers around us. It would be a massacre.

“Leave me,” Abe rasped, meeting my eyes. “Take as many people with you as you can. I will not be—”

“Stop it. You know I’m not leaving you,” I said, glaring at him. “We’ll find another way. If we must, we can fight. I have my kukri on me, and your knives are still on the train. If our carriage wasn’t destroyed, then—”

“Do you have the wolfsbane?” Gabriel asked. Seward, Abe and I looked at him, startled, and I once again felt a tingling suspicion. How did he know we had wolfsbane? “Do you?” he repeated, impatient.

“Yes,” Seward replied.

“You won’t be able to fight them off. Your weapons—even your wolfsbane—won’t be enough to hold off a group of vampires this size. You need to get your weapons and move as quickly as you can in that direction,” he said, pointing south through the trees. “There are some farmhouses a couple of kilometers away. You should be able to find bandages for Doctor Van Helsing’s wounds there, but make sure you find a place to hide, and don’t attempt to leave until I come for you. Leave.”

“What about these people?” Seward asked, gesturing to the helpless passengers around us. “We can’t—”

“I’ll do what I can for them. Leave,” Gabriel repeated, already moving away from us.

We watched in dazed amazement as Gabriel raced towards the nearest group of passengers, kneeling down to speak urgently to them. How did he know so much about vampires? About us? Who was he?

“Mina, he’s right. We need to go,” Seward said. “Abe, can you walk?”

“Yes,” Abe said with difficulty.

“Seward, help Abe up and head south. You have the strength to carry much of his weight,” I said, forcing myself to focus. “I’ll fetch our bags from our carriage.”

“No,” Abe protested weakly, shaking his head. “We will wait for you before we depart. If the vampires are almost upon us—”

“I’ll be right behind you,” I said, giving Abe a reassuring smile, though a sliver of trepidation crawled up my spine. “You’re injured. We need to get you to safety first.”

I leaned forward to touch the side of his face, holding his gaze. There were a multitude of things I wanted to say, but I focused on my most immediate and greatest desire.

“Stay alive,” I whispered.

Before even more tears could threaten my thin grip on control, I turned and hurried towards the destroyed train. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gabriel moving quickly between the various groups of passengers. As he spoke to them, they each moved off into a different direction. He’s scattering them, I realized. They had a better chance of survival if they were spread out, rather than being centered in a single location. I felt a small glint of admiration for Gabriel, whoever he was.

I approached the destroyed train, counting out the carriages until I spotted our own, which had been the third from the rear. My memory was correct and it was intact, resting askew on the tracks.

I made my way to the entrance, where the door to the carriage hung limply off its side. With great effort, and ignoring the steady throb of pain in my lower back, I stepped inside. Many of the seats were still in place, while multiple bags and shattered glass from the windows covered the interior of the carriage. I made my way towards the rear, scanning the various bags, until I spotted our bags, lodged beneath one of the seats. I hurried forward until I reached them, and reached into mine, taking out my additional kukri and the pouch of wolfsbane. I tucked the wolfsbane into the bodice of my dress and the kukri into my other sleeve. I had just begun to knot the straps of our bags around my shoulders when I heard the first screams.

I stilled for a moment before turning to peer out of one of the destroyed windows.

Dozens of vampires had emerged from the forest and descended onto the scattered passengers like a swarm of ravenous beasts. With a chill, I was reminded of the vampires on the Demeter as they began to tear into the flesh of the passengers with brutal and lethal efficiency.

I forced myself to look away from the gruesome sight of the massacre, quaking with fear. I had to focus on not letting my panic overwhelm me, and slowly removed one of my kukri knives from my sleeve, turning to move back towards the front door of the carriage, the straps of the bags now tied around my shoulders. Once I stepped out of the train, I would have to sprint to the tree line.

I was halfway to the carriage door when I heard a ferocious snarl, and a female vampire leapt inside the carriage, her fangs exposed as she trained feral black eyes on me.

18

Gabriel

Trembling, I met her monstrous eyes.

Think, do not panic.

I could try to climb out of one of the shattered windows, but I knew that she would move too quickly for me to escape. I would have to fight her off.

My breathing was frantic as I clutched my kukri, keeping my eyes locked with hers. Her eyes shifted down to my blade, and I thought I saw her lips curl slightly, an oddly human movement, as if she were amused. She lunged forward with astonishing speed, landing on top of me and pinning me down with enormous strength. Her eyes were ferocious and pitch black as she reared down towards my throat, her fangs sharp and glinting.

Recalling what I’d done on the Demeter in the same precarious position, I twisted out of her reach, swinging out with my kukri in a sharp arc, my blade lodging into the side of her neck. Dark red blood spurted from the wound, and as she stiffened with a pained hiss, I yanked the blade out and sank it into her heart. She stilled, her eyes going from black to a very human hazel, and as her eyes met mine she looked . . . human. In that brief moment, I saw a glimpse of the vulnerable young woman she must have once been, her eyes displaying both grief and relief before they went blank. I yanked the blade from her chest as her lifeless body slumped forward.

I scrambled out from beneath her, stumbling towards the carriage door. I dashed out of the carriage, my muscles protesting with agony as I sprinted towards the tree line opposite the train tracks.

I didn’t dare look back, but the cries of the passengers behind me were of a different sort this time. They were sounds of hopelessness and despair, of horror at their gruesome deaths at the hands of these creatures, echoing the cries of the dying shipmates aboard the Demeter—sounds I would never forget. I forced myself to keep running, pushing the image of the dying female vampire from my mind, and trying to block out the sounds of the screams.

Once I arrived in the sprawling dark forest, I picked up my pace, my legs screaming in pain with every footfall, struggling to maintain focus on the jagged path through the forest ahead. I soon made out two familiar forms—Abe and Seward. Abe moved slowly and painfully as Seward shouldered much of his weight, helping him along.

Flooded with relief at the sight of them, I started to pick up my pace, when I felt multiple cold gazes on my skin. The sensation came from the dense cover of trees that surrounded me. Multiple vampires were tracking me.

I deliberately slowed my pace. I couldn’t lead them to Abe and Seward. My eyes filled as I watched Abe and Seward continue to limp forward, unaware that I was only yards behind them. Stay alive, I pleaded. Stay alive.

I turned to veer towards a tangle of trees away from them, praying that the vampires would follow me, not Seward and Abe. The cold sensation indeed trailed me, and as I stumbled towards the edge of a small clearing, lightly dappled by moonlight, I halted.

Four vampires were gathered, crouched in animalistic stances, their lethal eyes trained on me. They looked different than the feral vampires from the Demeter and the creatures back at the train wreckage. They appeared more controlled and refined, dressed in fine clothing like the vampires who had appeared at the Langham. If it weren’t for their preternatural white skin and oddly colored eyes ranging from pitch black to blood red, I would have mistaken them for humans. But there was no denying their monstrous nature now as they hissed and snarled at me, preparing to strike.

I stood completely still, my heart wildly pounding in my chest. I had been fortunate with the previous vampire. How could I fight off several of them?

One of the male vampires straightened from his crouch to his full height of nearly seven feet; his red eyes glittering with recognition as he studied me, and I felt rather than heard his whispered word.

“Ghyslaine.”

The same word the vampire had whispered to me on Westminster Bridge. I was rattled by this, but maintained my focus on the matter at hand. I knew I couldn’t outrun them, so I would have to take my chances in a fight. I could only pray that the wolfsbane tucked into my bodice would deter them, if not turn them away altogether, though it seemed to have no effect on the female vampire on the train.

It took a Herculean effort to remain still as I faced off with them, bracing myself for their attack. Be prepared; but never be the first to strike. The one who makes the first move loses his advantage, Sofia had once told me.

They all moved at once, eerily coordinated and impossibly fast as they launched themselves towards me. I took a step back and swung out my kukri, making contact with the neck of the first vampire. I yanked my blade free as she crumbled to the ground with a pained hiss and sunk it into the heart of the second vampire, pulling it out as a third vampire grabbed me by the neck and hurled me to the ground. I again tried to swing my blade as I lay prone, but the two male vampires crouched at my sides, pinning my arms to the ground in an inhumanly strong grip. I screamed, more in anger than in fear, that fate would have me die this way, the same way Father died, in a remote forest at the hands of a vampire.

One of the vampires reared down to my throat, sinking his fangs into the flesh. It was a horrible sensation, the feel of my blood flowing into the monster’s hungry mouth. I closed my eyes, willing the darkness to take me, for a quick death . . . but something strange happened.

The fangs abruptly withdrew from my throat and my arms were released. My eyes flew open, and the two vampires retreated from me. The one who drank from me clutched his blood-stained mouth as he looked at me in horror. He turned to the other vampire, speaking in a language I did not recognize.

“Li shi’l necre.”

And they both vanished from the clearing.

* * *

For several moments I sat there, stunned, searching amongst the trees for any sign of the vampires. But they had inexplicably retreated and left me alive.

I looked down at the wolfsbane, still tucked securely into my bodice. Perhaps the scent had deterred them. But doubt niggled at my mind, and I suspected that was not the case.

I stumbled to my feet, my eyes falling upon the two vampires I’d stabbed, who still lay crumpled on the ground. Grabbing my kukri, I staked the first vampire in the chest to avoid his possible resurrection, before turning to scramble out of the clearing.

I retraced my steps until I found my original path, my mind ablaze with questions as I ran. Ghyslaine. What was Ghyslaine? Did it have something to do with why had they left me alive?

I set my questions aside, focusing on locating Abe and Seward. I saw no sign of them. I fervently prayed that they’d made it unscathed to one of the abandoned farmhouses.

The trees seemed to watch me as I ran, but I felt no sensation of cold, vampiric gazes on my skin. I picked up my pace despite the persistent soreness of my limbs, eager to leave the dark forest behind.

I emerged from the forest onto a moonlit plain, where several farmhouses were dispersed across the countryside. I paused, unsure of which one Abe and Seward had taken shelter in, and decided to approach the closest one.

The door was partially open, and splatters of blood stained the entrance. Palming my kukri, I stepped inside. The room I entered appeared to be a kitchen, with dusty wooden floors, a small table and two chairs, a fireplace, and cupboards. It looked and smelled as if it had been in disuse for some time, and I wondered with unease what had happened to make the inhabitants leave.

The sound of muffled male voices came from the cellar. Familiar voices. Abe and Seward.

I descended the stairs. Abe was seated on the floor, propped up against the wall, the shrapnel no longer in his side as Seward bandaged the wound with his torn jacket. Abe was no longer bleeding, and though his face was crumpled with pain, some color had returned to his skin.

They both turned when I entered, looking relieved and then alarmed as they took me in. I followed their eyes. I had been so dazed with shock from my encounter with the vampires that I did not realize that I was splattered with blood, and still bled from the vampire’s bite at my throat.

“Bloody hell, Mina,” Seward gasped. “What happened?”

“Later,” I said, hurrying forward to kneel down next to Abe. Seward was moving too slowly in bandaging up Abe’s wound. “Let me do this. Did you clean the wound?”

“Yes,” Seward said defensively, but he got to his feet and stepped back to let me finish securing the bandage. “Abe directed me. It was irritating.”

“I did attend medical school,” Abe said weakly, a trace of wry humor in his tone. “You would have killed me had I not directed you.”

“You need water,” I said, irritated by their lighthearted banter. Abe was still wounded. “We’re going to need better bandages while your wound heals, and I’m not sure how much blood you’ve lost, or if you’ll need a—”

“The shrapnel was a surface wound. I have lost some blood but not enough to require a transfusion.”

“I’ll get water,” Seward said, turning to hurry up the stairs as I continued bandaging his wound. Abe reached out to gently touch my arm.

“I will heal, Mina. The wound was not as grave as it appeared.”

I nodded, but kept my eyes lowered. My relief was greater than he could possibly know, and I couldn’t deny that it was linked to long-dormant feelings that now stirred beneath the surface of my awareness with aching familiarity. I was suddenly very aware of my hands on his bare skin, and hastily finished bandaging his wound, turning away from his perceptive eyes.

Seward returned with a bucket of water from a water pump in the rear of the farmhouse, along with a large cup from upstairs. I dipped the cup in the bucket and pressed it to Abe’s lips.

“Now that we have confirmed I am not on the edge of death, are you going to explain why you are covered in blood?” Abe asked, after he took a long sip.

I used torn pieces of Seward’s jacket to clean and bandage my neck wound as I told them of my encounter with the female vampire on the train, the vampires who had surrounded me in the clearing, the whispered word ‘Ghyslaine’, and their inexplicable action of leaving me alive.

They were both silent, until Abe looked at me with a concerned frown.

“Robert did not want you to return to Transylvania. This is all too much to be mere coincidence.”

“Well, I don’t know how. Or why,” I replied, though I had to grudgingly acknowledge the truth of his words. “I didn’t even know vampires existed until Father was murdered. And even then I remained in denial. No,” I gasped, as a sudden dark thought occurred to me. “What if Jonathan was taken because of me? What if—”

“Do not let conjecture turn into needless worry,” Abe gently interrupted.

“We haven’t asked the most important question,” Seward said, after another brief stretch of silence. “Why would vampires target those train tracks?”

“Easy prey?” I asked.

“Why make such a scene? The authorities and newspapers will cover this. They’ve mostly carried out their attacks in ways that can be explained away,” Seward mused aloud, in full inspector mode.

“Perhaps they want to call attention to themselves,” I said, unnerved by the thought.

“Or they’re done hiding in the shadows.”

The voice came from behind us. I reached for my kukri as I got to my feet and whirled around.

Gabriel stood at the doorway to the cellar, his grey eyes shot with fatigue, his shirt splattered with the dark blood of vampires. How had he entered so silently?

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said shyly, taking a cautious step into the cellar. “I saved as many passengers as I could, but many were still killed,” he continued, his voice trembling with regret.

“Who the devil are you?” Seward asked, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Why’ve you been following us?”

Gabriel didn’t look surprised by the question, but he stiffened, his eyes shifting to the floor. He was silent for so long that I feared he wouldn’t answer. When he looked back up again, his entire focus was on me.

“I–I’ve been following Mina. Since before the Demeter. Long before that, actually. Much longer.”

I went completely still. I recalled the coldness on my skin at Highgate Cemetery, Tilbury Docks, Amsterdam, the train, and my absolute certainty that it was a vampire’s gaze.

I studied Gabriel even closer now. The preternatural flawlessness of his dusky skin and steel grey eyes. His great height. The jagged gash on his cheek from the derailment, which had already begun to heal.

Memories flashed through my mind. Gabriel had somehow survived the massacre aboard the Demeter and tonight’s train derailment. He had warned me to get off the train before it derailed, as if he knew what was going to happen. And he had sensed the vampires’ approach before they were even upon us.

A terrible dawning awareness burned my insides like the scorching flames of a fire. A realization that slammed into me with such force that I stumbled backwards, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle a cry.

Oh God, I thought, my turbulent emotions careening from astonishment to horror to panic to fury. How had I not seen this before?

He was one of them. He was vampire.

I was across the cellar in an instant, shoving Gabriel back against the wall, the blade of my kukri tight against his throat, my eyes wild with rage and tears.

19

Revelations

From somewhere far away, I heard Abe and Seward cry my name. But my entire focus was centered on the man who stood before me. The vampire who stood before me.

“Monster!” I hissed, my blade pressed into his throat, drawing a thin trickle of dark red blood. Images flickered before my eyes, graphic and unbidden. The vampire hovering over Father’s still form. The vampire standing before Jonathan at the Langham. Arthur dying on the small boat in the North Sea. The terrified final screams of the passengers at the site of the derailed train.

Gabriel evenly met my eyes, not flinching at the force of my rage or the pressure of my blade in his skin. In his eyes, I saw self-loathing, pain, and . . . surrender.

I felt Seward’s firm hands on my shoulders, trying to push me back, but I shook him off. Gabriel did nothing to defend himself as he sank to his knees before me. I kept the blade against his throat as he moved. I wanted to kill him. I needed to kill him. For all that his kind had killed and destroyed.

“Mina,” Abe whispered softly into my ear. He was behind me, but I didn’t turn or back away from Gabriel. Abe’s hand drifted down to mine, preventing me from pushing my blade further into Gabriel’s skin. “He has saved our lives—and countless others—twice now. I do not believe he means us harm. Please, lower your blade. We need to hear what he has to say.”

“He’s vampire,” I whispered rawly, unwilling to allow the reason of Abe’s words to permeate my haze of fury. “He doesn’t deny it.”

“No,” Gabriel said, his eyes steady on mine. “I don’t deny it. I’m a monster.”

“Silence,” Abe said. “Do you want her to kill you? Why are you following her?” Abe continued, his hand steadfast on mine, and I could tell that with his injury he was using all of his strength to hold my blade still. “Who are you?”

“I made a promise to keep her safe,” Gabriel said. Though he was addressing Abe, his eyes never left mine. “I gave her my word.”

At his words, uncertainty flared, making me loosen my grip on the kukri. Abe moved quickly, yanking it from my hands and out of my reach. But I remained focused on Gabriel.

“Her? Who did you promise?” I demanded.

Gabriel’s eyes were unwavering in their sincerity.

“Your mother, Mina,” he said, and I heard the subtle tenderness in his tone at the word. “Our mother.”

The room seemed to tilt on its axis; I took a halting step backwards, fervently shaking my head as both anger and confusion swirled through my mind.

“Liar!” I spat.

“We are blood, Mina,” Gabriel continued. In the depths of his eyes I saw a small glimpse of longing, of hope. “I’m your only blood. I’m your half-brother.”

I stared at him in a stunned daze, intensely aware of my heart thundering in my chest, the blood swirling through my veins, the deafening silence of the cellar.

He was lying. He had to be. I struggled to recall the faint memories I had of my mother. The loving smiles, the gentle embraces, the illness. Father’s wan and worried face. Your mother is not to be disturbed, Mina. And then she was gone.

But there hadn’t been another child. I would have remembered that. Even though I now knew Father kept secrets from me, I couldn’t believe he would keep this to himself.

“You’re lying,” I repeated, but my words came out strangled and weak as I studied him. There was a nagging familiarity about him that I could not place. I took in his features, so unlike mine. But the eyes, though silver . . .

They were her eyes, I realized with horror. Gabriel’s were a different color, but they were the same wide expressive eyes with the thick fringe of lashes that I recalled from both my memories and the photographs of her that I had gazed at longingly in the years after her death.

“You know I speak the truth,” Gabriel said, as if reading my turbulent thoughts. He reached into his pocket, and I tensed, but he merely took out a locket, tossing it to the ground at my feet.

I reached down to pick it up. It was identical to the locket my mother had given me, a gold spinner locket engraved with her initials.

I opened it. Inside was a photograph of a young Gabriel—oddly beautiful, even as a child—seated on my mother’s lap. It was similar to the photograph of me seated on her lap.

I pressed my hand to my mouth, tears springing to my eyes, as Gabriel continued to speak.

“She gave birth to me before she met and married your father. I don’t know who my father was. I was raised by a kind human family in Thatcham, outside of London. She would visit me whenever she could. Before she died, she asked me to always look out for you as your older brother . . . and to make my presence known only when necessary.”

I was still focused on the image of Gabriel and my mother in the locket, trying to comprehend the enormity of what this meant, and it took several moments for his words to permeate. I looked up at him.

“Human family?” I asked unsteadily. “Why—why do you call them that? When were you turned into a vampire?”

“Turned?” Gabriel looked genuinely baffled, his brow furrowing into a frown. “I was never turned, Mina. I’ve always been vampire.”

Another thunderous silence followed his words. I was still struggling with the realization that Gabriel—a vampire—was somehow my blood; this new information was almost too much to bear.

“You . . . you are saying—” Abe spoke up, shattering the strained silence, his voice quavering with horror and astonishment. “Your mother . . . Mina’s mother . . . gave birth—”

“To a vampire. Yes,” Gabriel said, and again I detected a self-loathing; a revulsion that was directed inward. “I asked her many times who my father was, but she refused to tell me anything about him. Mina, I know this is much to learn,” he added, meeting my stricken eyes. “But Mother said I must only approach you when it was necessary. I–I was going to approach you years ago, when it seemed your father was close to discovering the existence of vampires. But when I learned the circumstances of his death, I knew you’d want nothing to do with my kind. I stayed away, but I kept watching you from a distance.”

Beneath my shock, I felt a twinge of jealousy at his continual mention of my mother. He had known the mother I could barely remember. The mother who had kept his existence from me.

I closed my eyes, a gnawing frustration tearing at my stomach. When I’d left London, I thought my ignorance was only relegated to vampires. But now it included my own family.

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Seward asked suspiciously.

“You don’t. But I have no reason to lie.” Gabriel’s tone was firm with sincerity. “I–I wish I could have known life as a human. But I have always been this way. This . . . creature,” he added, looking down at himself, his revulsion plain now.

“Did my father know of your existence?” I asked abruptly, both dreading and anticipating his answer.

“He knew Mother had another child prior to marrying him,” Gabriel said, after a long moment of hesitation, and I saw concern in his eyes as he studied my taut features. “But he didn’t know anything beyond that. He didn’t know Mother still came to see me. He certainly didn’t know that I’m vampire,” Gabriel added quickly, as if trying to reassure me.

His words did nothing to quell the surge of renewed hurt and anger I felt towards Father. This was yet another vital thing he’d kept from me.

“Are there others like you?” Abe asked. His horror had been replaced by his insatiable scientific curiosity, and I could practically see his mind churning. “How have you gone undetected for so long? What are your abilities?”

“Yes, there are many like me. We can remain undetected because we look human. I can see and hear exceptionally well, especially in the dark. And I can move quickly. Doctor Van Helsing, I will tell you more—much more,” he said, as Abe opened his mouth to barrage him with more questions. “But you all must be exhausted. It’s imperative that you sleep so that we can leave at first light. The authorities will soon arrive on the site of the train derailment. I assume you don’t want to bring attention to yourselves by being questioned. We need to get Mina and you both back to England. These forests are not safe,” he continued, addressing Abe and Seward.

“What do you mean, back to England?” I demanded, my astonishment shifting to anger. It pulled me from my shock, and I glared at Gabriel. “You’re aware that I’m rescuing my fiancé from your murderous brethren. I will not return to England without him.”

“I gave Mother my word that I’d keep you safe,” Gabriel replied, his eyes hard with determination as he got to his feet, pulling himself to his intimidating height. “I thought I could keep you safe by shadowing you, but the vampires in these parts are ferocious. You all could have been killed tonight.”

“We’re aware of the danger,” I returned. “I’m telling you that I will not return to England without Jonathan.”

“I could easily overpower all three of you and force you back to England,” Gabriel said, his tone turning dangerously soft, his silver eyes seeming to darken. I stiffened in spite of myself, but kept my eyes locked with his, not wanting to show him my trepidation. “But I’m giving you a choice,” he continued, softening. “I know you’re concerned about your fiancé. I can make inquiries, and see if I can—”

“Inquiries?” I snapped. “He was abducted by your kind. I will not abandon him. Even—even if you were to overpower us,” I continued, hating how my voice quivered at the thought. “I will return. And keep returning.”

Behind me, Abe and Seward kept quiet as Gabriel and I faced off. It was unnerving to stare into those familiar eyes, so much like my mother’s, but I held my ground. Gabriel’s existence was an earth-shattering revelation, but I would not be dissuaded from rescuing Jonathan.

“If you will not be persuaded to abandon this venture, then I am coming with you,” Gabriel said.

Abe, Seward and I responded all at once.

“No.” I snapped.

“That would be excellent.” Abe said.

“Can you protect us from other vampires?” Seward asked.

Annoyed, I turned to glare at Abe and Seward. Seward flushed guiltily, but Abe held my eyes.

“Please leave us, Gabriel. I want to discuss this with my friends.”

“You don’t have a choice. I will follow you whether you agree or not,” Gabriel said calmly, but he moved out of the cellar, ascending the stairs as quietly as he had come down them.

Once he was gone, Abe took a step towards me, grunting painfully as he moved, and I was pierced by a stab of guilt. With all the emotional chaos of Gabriel’s revelations, I’d nearly forgotten about Abe’s injury.

“Sit down,” I urged, helping him to the floor and propping him gently against the wall. Abe leaned back against the wall, clutching his side before meeting my eyes, resolute.

“You must look past your emotions, Mina. Gabriel is vampire. He can—” he began.

“Exactly!” I interrupted.

“He knows their weaknesses. He is strong. He can help us,” Abe continued, unwavering.

“He’s saved our lives twice now. Do you believe he’s your brother?” Seward asked.

I thought of Gabriel’s familiar eyes. The locket. The tender way he spoke of my mother. The absolute sincerity in his tone. Despite my hatred of his kind, I could admit that there was something different about him—something almost human. And he was half human, impossible as it seemed.

“Yes,” I grudgingly replied. “He has my mother’s eyes. I know those eyes well. And I–I don’t think he’s lying. I don’t know how it’s possible, but he’s of my blood.”

“Then I’m with Abe. We need as much help as possible.”

Gabriel had saved our lives twice now. He could help us. But I was still hesitant. Though my instincts told me that Gabriel wouldn’t harm us, he was still part vampire. How could I ever bring myself to truly trust such a creature?

“You still have the wolfsbane, yes?” Gabriel’s soft inquiry came from behind us, and we all turned. He had once again slipped noiselessly back into the cellar. I scowled at him.

“How do you manage to come and go so unobtrusively? Is that how you were able to follow us?” Abe asked, fascinated, studying Gabriel as if he were a new life form he had discovered in his laboratory.

“We asked for time alone,” I said crossly, before Gabriel could respond.

“I can hear every word upstairs. I told you I hear exceptionally well. There was no point in my absence,” Gabriel replied. “I have trained myself to move quite carefully, Doctor Van Helsing. Do you have the wolfsbane?” he repeated to me. “And your other weapons?”

“Yes,” I replied, after a moment of hesitation. “Why?”

“Arm yourselves. Always have your weapons on hand. If that is what’s necessary to make you feel safe around me, then very well,” he said, betraying no emotion as he met our eyes.

“I do not think that—” Abe began.

“All right,” I interjected. “If at any time we feel threatened by you—”

“You can stake me,” he said, his face stoic as granite. “Moments ago, you almost did. I could have easily escaped—or harmed you—but I didn’t. I think I have proven that I mean you no harm. I only want to honor Mother’s wishes and keep you safe.”

Abe and Seward nodded, looking thoroughly convinced. Gabriel gave me an inquiring look. I finally gave him a hasty nod of agreement. I would have to put my anxiety about him aside if I wanted to rescue Jonathan.

“There is a nearby town—Andorf—where we can collect horses and ride to the train station in Wels . . . it will take us in the direction of Transylvania,” Gabriel said.

“How’d you know where we were going?” Seward asked, sounding more curious than suspicious now.

“I overheard you on the train.” Gabriel replied.

“You were not seated anywhere near us,” Abe breathed, even more fascinated. “You will have to tell me more about your hearing.”

“In time,” Gabriel said, and despite the tense circumstances, I detected a slight trace of humor in his tone at Abe’s transparent fascination with him. “I do want to suggest that we stop in Budapest for help before continuing on to Klausenburgh. I have friends there who may be able to help you.”

“Friends?” I echoed, with an uneasy chill.

“Vampires,” Gabriel said, once again reading my mind. “Before you protest, who are you looking for? The creature who took Jonathan, correct?”

“Of course,” I said shortly.

“But you don’t know who that is.”

“We–we’ll find out exactly who he is as we—” I hedged.

“My friends have lived in this region for some time. They may very well know the creature you’re looking for, and perhaps even offer their assistance.”

I looked at him, shaken. I barely trusted Gabriel, who was my blood and had saved our lives. But other vampires? I thought of the vampires I had encountered earlier in the clearing, with their bared fangs and black eyes. I shivered.

“We’re not all monsters,” Gabriel said. “I loathe creatures who attack innocents,” he added, his eyes growing cold with hatred. “As do my friends. I trust them with my life. They have no interest in harming humans . . . they only wish to live in peace. The hour is late. Take the night to consider. But if you want to find and destroy the monster who took your fiancé, it will only be to your benefit to speak with them. They may have the answers you need.”

There were an increasing number of questions that I needed answers to, but the thought of conversing with a group of vampires, or getting assistance from them, made me feel ill.

“Sleep. I think it’s best for you all to remain in the cellar lest there are any more prowling vampires,” Gabriel said, turning to move towards the cellar door. “I’ll be outside.”

He left us alone, and Seward and I gathered blankets from upstairs and prepared makeshift beds for Abe and ourselves in the cellar. I took the time to change out of my stained dress and into a clean one in an empty bedroom upstairs.

“You both realize that we must meet these other vampires,” Abe said, when I returned, his eyes drooping with fatigue as he made himself comfortable on the blankets. “We do need answers.”

“We’ll discuss this tomorrow,” I said. “Please get some rest. Call out if you are in any pain, or if you need anything at all.”

Despite my fatigue, it took me a long while to drift to sleep as multiple questions raced through my mind about Gabriel. How had my mother come to give birth to a vampire? Why didn’t she tell me or my Father of his existence? Would things have been different had I known?

When I finally slept, my dreams were filled with dark images of my mother, smiling lovingly at me until her lips curled back to reveal the sharp fangs of a vampire.

20

The Silent War

We awoke just after dawn the next morning, and Gabriel soon entered the cellar, politely informing us that he’d already brought over horses from Andorf, and they were waiting for us in the stables. Still reeling from the previous night’s revelations, I was unable to meet Gabriel’s eyes as I nodded my thanks.

“You traveled to Andorf and back quite expeditiously,” Abe said, impressed, as he sat up.

I was relieve to see that Abe looked much better than he had the night before, though he was still slightly pale. His eagerness over having a real life vampire test subject seemed to outweigh any thought of his injury, and I practically had to order him to let me inspect his wound.

“I’m not as fast as full-fledged vampires, but I can move more quickly than humans. Andorf is not far from here, Doctor Van Helsing,” Gabriel replied modestly, as I cleaned Abe’s wound and applied the fresh bandages Gabriel had brought back from town.

“You have helped save my life twice. I insist that you call me by my Christian name,” Abe said, giving Gabriel a kind smile, which he shyly returned.

I finished applying the bandages, slightly irritated at how quickly Abe had taken to Gabriel. We had decided that we’d take his advice and stop in Budapest for more information from Gabriel’s friends, but I felt that we still needed to be on our guard around him.

Once Abe’s wound was tended to, we ate the fresh bread that Gabriel had also brought with him. Gabriel didn’t eat with us and hovered in the doorway as we ate. I wondered with a chill when he had last feasted on blood. Had he recently drained some poor villager?

I made myself push the disturbing thought away. It was best if I kept my thoughts away from his diet.

We moved to the upstairs rooms to wash and change into fresh clothes. My aches from the derailment had now dulled to soreness, and I grimaced as I changed into a grey traveling dress.

Abe was still too weak to ride on his own, so he shared a horse with me, leaning heavily against me and wrapping his arms around my waist. I had to focus on riding and ignored the familiar warmth of his body against mine as we rode away from the farmhouse.

Abe’s full concentration was on Gabriel, who rode directly at our side. Abe must have shared my silent musings about Gabriel’s diet, as he immediately began to pepper him with questions about what he ate. Dreading Gabriel’s response, I tightened my grip on the reins.

“I have never taken blood from a human,” Gabriel replied, and I sensed a hint of pride in his tone. “I find the act as deplorable as I’m sure you do. I do eat food, but I don’t need as much and I don’t find it satiating, unfortunately. My adoptive father was a butcher. He would bring home animal blood for me to consume. By the time I was twelve, a vampire I only knew as Uncle Quincy began to visit me regularly. He trained me to hunt and feed on animals. He also taught me how to abstain from consuming blood for up to two weeks.”

“Who were your adoptive parents? How did they know about the existence of your kind?” Abe asked, his curiosity seeming to grow with the more answers that Gabriel gave him.

“Percy and Winifred Harris. They told me they had always known about vampires, but they never explained how. I don’t know why my mother chose them, but I know they weren’t able to have children of their own. They treated me—and loved me—as if I were their own,” Gabriel said, his voice briefly catching as grief flickered across his features. “They died several years ago. My parents—and my mother—left me a small inheritance. It’s been enough for me to travel and live without the risk of detection. Whenever I’m in England, I stay in their home.”

Abe and Seward continued to ask Gabriel about his travels and abilities, while I remained silent, though I had a multitude of my own questions. I wanted to know more about my mother and how often she had visited him, what he knew about others of his kind, how long he had watched me. While he answered Abe and Seward’s questions, I could feel his curious gaze slide periodically towards me, possibly wondering why I was so silent.

I needed time to come to terms with the knowledge that I had a half-brother who was a vampire; that there was so much about my own family I knew nothing about. My ignorance now seemed to form a great abyss, and every time I bridged a small gap, it grew even greater still.

“We’ve a theory, though we hope we’re wrong,” Seward said, his words cutting into my bleak reverie. “That the many vampire attacks throughout Europe—including the one last night—are due to some sort of invasion.”

“I’m afraid you may be correct,” Gabriel replied. “From what I have learned from my friends in Budapest, there has been a civil war amongst vampires for generations. I used to hear my parents whispering about it at night. The silent war, they called it. When Mother visited, I would hear her talk with them about it,” he added, casting a sideways glance at me.

“My mother?”

I spoke in spite of myself, stunned. While it was quite obvious that she knew about vampires, how much more did she know? Exactly how much had she been involved in their world?

“Yes. But she never spoke of it to me,” Gabriel replied. I could see a subtle relief in his eyes that I had finally spoken. “I know that though our numbers are low, there are many vampires who want to rule over humans.”

“The vampire who took Jonathan,” I began, gripped by a renewed fear. “Is he one of these vampires? Their leader, perhaps?”

“I don’t know,” Gabriel said, regretful. “Had I known anything of him, I would have come forward sooner. You have my word.”

He met my eyes, and once again I saw nothing but truthfulness in his eyes. There was something unnerving about his sincerity. I thought of the revulsion I had seen on his face the night before, the self-hatred he’d tried unsuccessfully to hide. He’d been raised by humans, born to a human mother. Was it possible that he despised his own kind?

We soon arrived at Wels, where we were able to send post. Abe sent a letter to Greta, while I sent Clara a brief letter informing her that I was safely en route to Budapest. I briefly wondered if she knew of Gabriel’s existence. Though there were secrets she had kept from me as well, I quickly dismissed the thought. Clara constantly worried about my chosen solitude and lack of friends in London. She would have eagerly welcomed a brother, even one that was vampire. In spite of myself, my lips twitched at the thought. Clara could always find the best qualities in anyone, and I had no doubt she would take an instant liking to Gabriel.

But would she ever meet him? When I returned to London, what role would Gabriel play in my life? Could I handle having a vampire as a permanent part of it?

Gabriel’s intense gaze settled on me, as if he were reading my thoughts, and I turned away from him as we left the post office. There was no point in thinking of such things now. I had to focus on rescuing Jonathan.

We made a brief stop at a telegraph office. Peter Hawkins had responded to my wire. He informed me that he’d pulled Jonathan aside to inform him there had been yet another break in at their office only a few hours prior to the ball. Nothing had been taken, but it appeared the thief was looking for something. He urged me to keep him posted about my search for Jonathan as he was quite worried about him.

Guilt pierced me as I thought of Jonathan’s tension at the ball. He must have already been on edge when he spotted me with Abe. I shared the wire with Abe and Seward, who looked concerned and flummoxed.

“It is reasonable to assume that the robberies are related to why he was taken,” Abe said. “Do you know what he was working on at the firm?”

“No,” I replied, frustrated. Jonathan rarely discussed details of his work with me, though I always inquired. “I do know that he often acted as an estate agent.”

“What would vampires want with estate transactions?” Seward asked, baffled.

His question went unanswered, but remained on my mind as we left our horses at stables in the center of town and took a cab to the train station. News of the derailment at the border had spread, as we heard whispers of a rash of wolf attacks and decapitated bodies amongst the wreckage. A shiver ran through me as I recalled the horrors of the night before. None of these people could possibly imagine what had really happened.

We purchased our tickets for the next train to Budapest and boarded, finding seats in the rear compartment. Gabriel remained standing, informing us that he wanted to search the train for vampires or anything out of the ordinary.

“You can detect them?” Abe asked, intrigued.

“Most of the time, yes,” Gabriel cryptically replied, before turning to head back down the aisle.

Abe looked gravely disappointed as he left; he had already taken out his journal, clearly intending to question Gabriel further. I could not hold back an amused smile, and Seward looked entertained as well. There had always been something endearing about Abe’s rabid scientific curiosity, no matter what the circumstance.

“I have been doing research on animals as substitutes for years,” Abe whispered, annoyed by our amusement. “Now I have an actual vampire to question and observe. One who is not trying to kill me, I might add. It would be like having Jack the Ripper in your custody,” he added, as an aside to Seward.

“Not the same thing,” Seward said, his amused smirk turning to a scowl.

“If Gabriel weren’t my blood, I’d be just as eager to question him,” I said, giving Abe an understanding nod. “But I fear that I will never quite recover from my shock.”

“It will take time for this to settle. I can only imagine how you must feel. But the fact that he was born vampire,” Abe added quietly. “It–it is simply astounding, Mina. It has been my conjecture that vampires can only be transformed by another. The notion that a human woman can give birth to one is . . .” he trailed off, shaking his head in wonder. “Imagine what we can learn from him.”

“I know. But if my mother gave birth to him . . .” I whispered, finally speaking aloud the dark thought that had been circling through my mind. “Is it . . . is it possible that—”

“I think Robert would have noticed if your mother was not human,” Abe whispered in reply, silencing me before I could complete the thought. “Which means that Gabriel’s father—”

“Yes, I know,” I interrupted, taking a cautious look around at the other passengers who were settling into their seats. We would have to continue our discussion in private, and Abe seemed to understand as he fell silent.

The train soon pulled away from the station, and my thoughts turned back to Gabriel’s unknown father. I had thus far been focused only on my mother and her role in his life, not giving much thought to his father, who had to be vampire. That could only mean that my mother, the quiet and unassuming woman I’d briefly known as a child, had loved—and been intimate—with one of those monstrous creatures.

I suppressed a wave of revulsion at the thought. I knew nothing of my mother’s life prior to Father meeting her. He only told me that she had been long estranged from her family, who lived somewhere in the French countryside. From the scant stories Father told me of her, I had put together a carefully constructed image of her in my mind. A devoted wife and mother who enjoyed playing the piano, reading, and telling me stories. A woman who, had she lived, would have become a less severe version of Mary Harker, without all of the snobbery; perhaps devoting her time to charity and helping the poor. But now it seemed that picture was an illusion, and she was a complete stranger to me.

I now understood that there was much I did not know about my parents, with all of the secrets they had kept from me. It seemed there was no reliable memory I could cling to. At the realization, a sudden sense of isolation crept over me, and I felt like a sailor marooned at sea in a storm, with no sense of when he would next see land.

“London is the largest city in the world,” Abe whispered suddenly, his words pulling me back to the present. He had been furiously scribbling in his journal, but now set down his pen, looking shaken. “Jonathan handles estate transactions. For whom?”

“Clients who want to provide housing for the poor,” I replied, wondering what he was leading to.

“What if . . . what if whoever took Jonathan wants information about this housing? Perhaps he wants to use lodging houses as some sort of base for his newly created vampires. Having vampires under his control residing in London would be an expeditious way of spreading vampirism throughout the city’s population.”

“Christ,” Seward whispered. “I hope you’re wrong, Abe.”

“But why him? He’s certainly not the only solicitor in London who handles estate transactions,” I said.

“There were two other solicitors taken. I suspect they were taken for a similar reason. It is just a conjecture. There could be another reason for his abduction,” Abe replied, with a hint of defensiveness.

I fell silent, considering Abe’s theory. It was a reasonable one, and unease crept through me as I considered a base of vampires in London, poised to feast upon the masses. I prayed that Gabriel’s friends could help us determine exactly who this creature was.

As the train approached the station in Budapest, Gabriel finally came to sit with us. He’d spent much of his time roaming up and down the aisle of the train or seated in different carriages, and only joined us for short, sporadic moments. He seemed to be consistently restless; whenever he was still, a sort of despondency seemed to settle over his countenance, a persistent sadness that seemed to be rooted somewhere deep. I wondered what his life must have been like, growing up vampire amongst humans, having a mother who loved him but kept him secret, all the while having another family in London. I felt a surprising flicker of sympathy for Gabriel, even as I tried to remind myself what he was, and that I should still be on guard around him.

When the train pulled to a stop, Gabriel gestured for us to follow him, and we trailed out of the station to find two cabs.

Seward and Gabriel took one cab while Abe and I took another. Our cabs took us away from the train station and through the Pest side of the city, which was marked by meandering cobblestoned streets and ornate baroque architecture. I had never been to Budapest, and I took in my surroundings with quiet awe, wishing that I were visiting under different circumstances.

We soon left Pest behind to cross the Szechenyi Chain Bridge to the Buda side of the city on the opposite side of the Danube River, which glittered beneath the fading light of the setting sun. In Buda, we made our way down the old medieval streets of the Castle District, where we were dropped off at the edge of Vienna Gate Square, an area that teemed with both shops and old homes that were both baroque and medieval in appearance.

Gabriel seemed quite familiar with these streets, and we followed him as he walked brusquely towards a row of homes with yellow stucco and greystone facades on the far edge of the square. He approached a gated home, casually opening the unlocked gate, and led us across the front courtyard and into the front doors.

As we entered the long narrow entrance hall, I hesitated, wondering where the other vampires were. But Gabriel continued down the hall without pause. Abe and Seward trailed behind him. I reluctantly followed as Gabriel led us to a grandiose drawing room.

It was the largest drawing room I had ever seen. The wooden floors were covered by oriental rugs; the walls dominated with paintings portraying idyllic scenes of nature. The plush couch and chairs were made of fine brocade and silk, which gleamed in the sunlight that filtered in to the room from the windows. I realized that this was far too grand to be an ordinary home. It looked as if it belonged to someone of the nobility.

“Whose home is this?” I asked Gabriel.

“Radu Draculesti. He’s occupied this home for quite some time,” Gabriel replied. “I came to Budapest years ago, after my parents died. Radu lets me stay here when I visit. He is one of the kindest creatures I know—vampire or human. He will help you. He knows we are coming, I sent him a wire. He will be here shortly.”

I stiffened at the name Draculesti. Both Abe and Seward met my eyes across the room. The Draculesti had been one of the families who once occupied the fortress we were heading to in Transylvania. Could there somehow be a connection?

“What is it?” Gabriel asked. He hadn’t missed our exchanged look.

“The name seems familiar,” Abe vaguely replied. “We will have to ask your friend some questions about it.”

If Radu knew something, it could help us greatly. But what if Gabriel was wrong about him? What if Radu was connected to the fortress, and he was dangerous? Had we inadvertently walked into some sort of trap?

I studied Gabriel, who now stood quietly near the doorway, his silver eyes trained on me. There was no hint of deception in their depths, no malice.

I willingly calmed myself, moving over to study one of the paintings on the wall; it was one of the few that didn’t depict a scene from nature. In the painting sat a lovely woman with long dark hair and bright green eyes. She wore an elaborate eighteenth century dress of deep red silk with a large hoop skirt. She sat posed on a settee in what appeared to be this very room, her expression serene but sad. As I studied it, wondering who she was, I felt ice on my skin, and turned to face the doorway.

Two vampires hovered there. A beautiful female vampire of Asian descent, with long raven black hair, dark eyes, high cheekbones and a generous mouth, stood next to a tall male vampire who looked vaguely familiar, with a pointed angular face framed by dark hair, his skin so white it was nearly translucent. The female vampire’s eyes seemed to darken with hostility when they landed on me, and as Gabriel stepped forward to address them, we were suddenly slammed back against the far wall by an invisible force.

Panicked, I realized that this was the same sensation I’d felt at the ball and on the Demeter. I was paralyzed, and my throat began to close as I struggled to breathe. The edges of my vision dimmed, and I began to slip from consciousness.

21

Draculesti

As darkness filled my vision, I dimly heard Gabriel’s cries.

“Anara, release them! That is my sister! They are here for your help!”

“Release them!” the male vampire demanded, and we were immediately released from the paralyzing hold, collapsing to the floor like puppets without their strings.

My vision cleared, and I struggled to catch my breath. Gabriel hurried towards me, helping me up. I was still dizzy and I swayed slightly on my feet as his worried grey eyes locked on mine.

“I’m all right,” I managed to rasp, turning to focus on Abe and Seward. Seward had gotten to his feet as well, his hands on his knees as he hunched forward, sucking in deep breaths of air. Abe remained huddled on the floor, looking deathly pale.

“Abe . . .” I whispered, kneeling down to his side.

“I just need to breathe,” he said weakly, allowing me to help him to his feet.

“Why did you do that?!”

I turned. Gabriel was now advancing towards Anara, his eyes blazing with fury. Anara remained rigid, her hostile eyes still centered on us. At her side, the male vampire whom I assumed was Radu, also gave her a hard look.

“I brought them here for your help, and you nearly kill them!” Gabriel continued, furious. “They already fear our kind. Last night they were nearly killed by a pack of ferals.”

I saw a flicker of what may have been guilt dart across Anara’s features, but it was quickly masked. Radu stiffened at Gabriel’s words.

“Ferals?” he asked sharply, his English accented with both Romanian and another language that I could not identify. “How many?”

“Around fifty. Perhaps more,” Gabriel replied. Though he spoke to Radu, he still glared at Anara. “I saved as many humans as I could, including my sister and her friends. Anara could have—”

“Your sister’s hatred dripped off her like poison,” Anara snapped, tearing her eyes away from us to focus on Gabriel. Her voice was surprisingly soft for a creature who emanated such hatred. “She’s armed with a kukri. That blade is made to kill our kind! Are they all armed?”

“It was the only way they would feel safe traveling with a vampire,” Gabriel returned. “Now I understand why. You’re stronger than all three of them combined! They mean you no harm.”

“All humans mean us harm!” she cried. Beneath the fury of her words, I sensed a raw vulnerability. “You will never understand—you are one of them!”

“This bickering serves no purpose,” Radu said, holding up his hand to prevent Gabriel from responding and turning to face us. Unlike Anara, I only saw kindness in his eyes. “I must offer my sincerest apologies to all of you. I never should have allowed my daughter to put you into a thrall, but I am afraid that she distrusts humans.”

I frowned, looking at Anara, whose face remained stormy. How could Anara be his daughter? They were of different races, and he looked no more than ten years older than her.

He stepped towards us, and I nearly gasped at the true breadth of his height. He appeared to be nearly seven feet tall, towering over all the men in the room. I forced myself to not shrink back as he continued forward, extending a long, tapered hand towards us in a gesture of greeting.

“I am Radu,” he said, his politeness shaded with warmth. “Gabriel has told me of you, Wilhelmina.” It was odd to be called my full name. Clara and Father rarely used it, but it fell naturally from Radu’s lips. “It is my assumption that this gentleman is your fiancé?” he inquired, his eyes sliding towards Abe.

“He’s not my fiancé,” I interjected, flushing. “This is Doctor Abraham Van Helsing, and this is Inspector Jack Seward of Scotland Yard in London.”

“It is my deepest pleasure to meet you all,” Radu said, with an amiable nod. “You have been acquainted with my daughter Anara,” he continued, gesturing towards her with a surprising trace of humor. “Again, I must apologize for her actions. May I offer you tea or food? You must be famished after your journey.”

I was taken aback by his kindness. Though I sensed the same genuine sincerity from him that Gabriel displayed, I remained hesitant. How could Radu be so kind and Anara so hostile? My eyes strayed nervously towards Anara, who still glared openly at us. Radu followed my gaze.

“I will not allow Anara to harm you. If it puts you at ease, she will not remain in the room with us.”

“Radu—” Anara protested.

“Silence, my love,” he said, the endearment contradicting the harsh look he directed towards her. “You have frightened Gabriel’s sister and her friends. Please leave us while I speak with our guests.”

Anara’s eyes flashed with anger, but she obligingly left the room. Radu gestured for us to sit at the small round table in the center of the room before disappearing briefly and returning with a tray of tea. I was surprised. From the quiet grandeur of his home, I would have expected a small army of servants.

“I am unable to keep servants for long. My daughter frightens them,” Radu said, by way of explanation, giving us a rueful smile as he set down the tray, and I was again struck by his amiability. Radu was a large and intimidating vampire, yet I felt increasingly comfortable in his presence. He folded his lengthy body into the chair across from us. “What is the matter you require my assistance with?”

“My fiancé Jonathan was abducted from London by a group of vampires,” I replied. “We’re traveling to a fortress in Transylvania where we believe he’s being held, but we don’t know who took him.”

Radu stilled before handing us each a cup of tea, his piercing black gaze settling on me. I was coming to learn that vampires had a disconcerting manner of not breaking eye contact, and I shifted in my seat at his scrutiny.

“Where is this fortress located?” he asked.

“A vampire under hypnosis told us it’s located in the Carpathians, in some sort of ‘old home’,” I replied, recalling Lucy’s words. Abe reached into his bag and handed Radu his crumpled map of the region.

“We recognized your last name,” Abe said, as Radu studied the map. “Our research indicates that the Draculesti were one of the families to occupy this fortress at some point in the past. Is that correct?”

Radu grew even more pale as he stared down at the map. I didn’t know if he was reacting to Abe’s words or to the map itself.

“Yes,” Radu said. When he looked up, I saw a faint shimmer of blood red tears, and I had to will myself not to recoil in shock and revulsion at the sight. “And I believe I know who presently dwells there.”

All of the air seemed to suck out of the room. Abe, Seward and Gabriel all froze. In Radu’s eyes, I now saw a maelstrom of pain, regret—and guilt.

“They are the last descendants of one of the oldest vampire families in Europe. They long to restore their family name to its previous glory. They are my children,” he whispered. “It is my family. I am the monster you seek.”

* * *

In the stunned space of silence that followed Radu’s words, I stumbled to my feet, my hand instinctively reaching for the kukri that was tucked in my sleeve, while Abe, Seward and Gabriel remained frozen with shock. Anara must have somehow sensed the tension in the room, because she was instantly back in the drawing room and at Radu’s side in a flash of movement, crouched in a protective stance, her eyes blazing in my direction.

“I will tear out your throat if you attempt to harm him!” she hissed.

I didn’t move, barely heeding her presence. I was still reeling from Radu’s words. He was the monster we sought? Was he working with the vampires who had taken Jonathan—his children? Had Gabriel brought us into some sort of trap after all? I looked at Gabriel, but he looked just as stupefied as I felt.

“I am responsible for all of this,” Radu continued, his voice dropping with sorrow. “I deserve your wrath.”

“Radu, silence!” Anara shouted, before turning to her focus back to me. “Lower the kukri. I will kill you!”

“You’ll not harm my sister, Anara,” Gabriel managed to bite out in warning, though he still looked shaken.

“What do you mean? Explain!” I demanded from Radu, ignoring Anara and maintaining a solid grip on my kukri.

In a quick blur of movement, Anara sprang towards me and yanked the kukri from my hand before retreating back to Radu’s side. I blinked, astonished by the rapid movement. Abe, Seward and Gabriel instantly rose to their feet, crowding protectively around me.

“Please. Answer me,” I pleaded, my voice quavering as I returned my focus back to Radu. “What are you—”

“Radu’s biological children have been carrying out the attacks and abductions around Europe. Vlad and Ilona,” Anara said, spitting out the names like they were a bitter poison. “They are evil. Father,” Anara said, her voice softening as she rested her hand on his shoulder. “Their evil is no fault of your own.”

Vlad and Ilona, I thought with a daze. I recalled the male and female vampire at the Langham. Were they the children of the anguished vampire who sat before me? Two as one, Lucy had said. Brother and sister . . . working together? Two leaders?

Dazed, I sank back down into my chair, as Abe, Seward and Gabriel followed suit. I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against my trembling fingertips, and I forced myself to speak.

“Where . . . where are they now?” I asked.

“I do not know, I swear it,” Radu answered swiftly. “If I did, they would not be causing so much destruction. I would do what needs to be done. They must be stopped. I understand that now.”

“Now?” Seward asked, his eyes narrowed. “Did you have the chance to stop them before?”

“Do not speak harshly to him,” Anara snapped. “You do not know what—”

“Anara, it is all right. They have a right to know everything. Especially Wilhelmina,” Radu said quietly, his regretful eyes holding mine. “Yes, I did have the chance to kill them once, but I could not do it. How could I? They are my blood. My son calls himself Vlad, after the many voivode rulers from our line. But my beloved—my now departed wife Ludmila—” He paused, his gaze straying to the painting on the wall of the sad, green-eyed woman. “She named him Alexandru. Alexandru and my daughter Ilona shared the same womb. We soon realized they share the same evil nature. Alexandru became particularly obsessed with the past great rulers of our line—their cruelty, their power. As he grew older, I realized that he wanted to restore our line to its previous glory. Ilona was not as desperate for power as my son. He has been the true leader, and she his most loyal follower; she loves him so.”

Radu stopped speaking for a moment, a bloody tear trickling down his cheek.

“I tried to make my son understand the reason our line died out was because of our obsession with power. Centuries of infighting cannibalized our ancestors. But I could not reach him—nor could my Ludmila. I knew there was no hope when my children massacred a small human village for sport when they were barely adults. Ludmila was so heartbroken at the monsters that they had become, she starved herself to death. But even this did not affect my children,” he continued, his voice dropping to a raw whisper. “Vlad began to gather followers—human and vampire alike. Vlad wanted to rule over not just the humans—but other vampires as well. He destroyed all who opposed him. As he gained more power, he gained more followers. Many of our kind fought against him.”

“Vlad was the cause of the civil war?” Gabriel asked, horrified.

“One of the causes, yes. He was not the only vampire who wanted power, but they came the closest to an all-out invasion. With the disappearances and massacres, they were bringing potential attention to vampires, which risked our annihilation. Humans still greatly outnumber us; it is why we live in the shadows. That is when it was decided that—that they needed to be executed,” he added, with great difficulty. “But I . . . I could not bear—”

Radu’s voice caught, and Anara kneeled down at his side. Her eyes shimmered with tears of blood as well. She took his hands, pressing her lips to his knuckles.

“Este de inteles, tata,” she whispered.

Her words seemed to give him the strength to continue, and he turned back to face me.

“Several members of the Order—I do not know who, I could not bear to know—tracked my son to a forest in central Transylvania, where he was preparing to carry out more attacks on human villages. There was a violent confrontation—many died—but the attempt to kill him failed. He was left on the verge of death, and it is believed that he survived in a weakened state for years somewhere in Transylvania. He must have subsisted off of animals, the occasional human—whatever it took to keep his strength for all those years. My daughter was not with him, and no one was able to track her down. The attacks on humans ceased, and I thought their threat had been eliminated. Three years ago, rumors began to spread about his resurrection and the regrouping of his followers. The attacks on humans began once more.”

“How many followers do your children have?” Abe asked. “How many oppose them?”

“I do not know their numbers, but there are many. We believe that the feral packs of vampires, like the ones you came across, are of their creation. Newborn vampires not given time to adjust to their hunger or abilities. They move quickly and kill many. As for those who oppose them—they are not as many as his followers, I am afraid. Many have gone into hiding for fear of retribution.”

My thoughts raced in a frantic blur. Three years ago. The forest in central Transylvania. That was where I had witnessed the creature feasting on my father. I recalled its torn and ragged flesh, its cold eyes on me—the same eyes I felt at the Langham and on the Westminster Bridge.

My entire body went cold as the revelation slammed into me with the force of a sledgehammer. The creature who had taken Jonathan and killed my father were one and the same—Radu’s son. And now I had a name. Vlad Alexandru Draculesti.

I repeated the name in my mind, over and over again, until it was a litany, and I felt a swell of rage so great that my entire body began to shake.

“My . . . my father—” I whispered. “He was killed in the forests of Transylvania three years ago by a weakened vampire. Abe and I saw it happen.”

The silence stretched as Radu met my stare, his eyes widening in horror.

“Oh, Wilhelmina,” he breathed. “I heard Vlad killed a human to fully restore himself. I did not know. I am . . . I am so sorry.”

I lurched weakly to my feet. Abe buried his face in his hands, while Gabriel and Seward studied me with sympathy and concern. Anara moved protectively closer to Radu, as if preparing for me to strike. But my rage had already begun to subside, transforming back to the grief that had been my constant companion since Father’s death.

“I–I need—” I began. I felt claustrophobic and struggled to breathe, as I had in the Langham a few nights ago when Abe had whispered in my ear that the creature from Transylvania was in London, and I uttered the same words. “I need air.”

Not waiting for a response, I turned and stumbled from the room. I made my way out of the drawing room, out the front door and into the courtyard, sinking to my knees as I took in great gasps of air.

The sheer enormity of all I had learned sank down onto my shoulders like a great weight. Legions of vampires living in our midst. A secret war between them. A half-brother who was vampire. Parents who kept a multitude of secrets from me. Confirmation that Father had died at the hands of this Vlad. And Jonathan, innocent and unaware of any of this, imprisoned at the hands of monsters who wanted to take over the human world.

I closed my eyes, once again longing for my previous ignorance; my peaceful life back in London with Jonathan, Clara and my students, and no knowledge of this hidden world that was possibly about to bring mine to an end.

Footsteps approaching from behind me brought me back to the present, and I climbed back to my feet. Abe and Seward approached me cautiously, as if I were a wounded animal.

“I’m quite all right,” I said. “There was no need for you to—”

“You are not all right,” Abe interjected.

He stepped forward to enfold me in the comforting warmth of his arms, and I allowed the tears that I had been holding at bay to fall, thinking of not only my father and Jonathan, but of all the victims of these monsters, and the immensity of the fight that still lay ahead.

When my tears subsided, I stepped out of Abe’s arms, and we all stood in somber silence.

“We know who took Jonathan. Radu can find and kill his son,” Seward said. “We can return to London, and let them fight their own—”

“No,” I said swiftly. “I won’t turn back now, Seward. I’m too close to rescuing Jonathan.”

“Mina, you heard him. Vlad has many followers,” Seward said, frowning. “We don’t have the—”

“I’m not returning to London without Jonathan!” I cried, staring at him in disbelief. “And now that I know my father died at Vlad’s hands, I won’t let my fiancé suffer the same fate.”

“What if he already has?” Seward asked bluntly.

“Jack!” Abe cried.

“Then I will avenge him,” I returned, though the thought of Jonathan’s possible death sent a spiral of grief through the pit of my stomach. “As I will avenge my father, and Arthur, and Lucy, and all the deaths that monster is responsible for!”

I was now keenly aware that this journey was about more than rescuing my fiancé. It was about stopping the impending threat of vampires from taking over the human world. I had severely underestimated the treacherous path that lay ahead of us when we’d left London. The best weapons and a small army of vengeful villagers wouldn’t be enough to take on Vlad, Ilona and his followers. I knew what we had to do going forward, though a rush of dread filled me at the thought.

“Radu said that there are other vampires who oppose Vlad. We need to ally ourselves with them to destroy him,” I said, meeting their eyes. “We need to join the war.”

THE END
of

THE BEAST OF LONDON

“And you, be ye fruitful, and multiply; bring forth abundantly in the earth, and multiply therein.”’

– Genesis 9:7

1

The Order

“No,” Anara said, barely containing her fury as she shot to her feet. “Radu has given you the information you need. We will not ally with humans.”

I stood in Radu Draculesti’s gilded drawing room opposite Anara, with Abraham Van Helsing and Jack Seward hovering behind me. Radu and my half-brother Gabriel were still seated, looking at us with quiet astonishment.

I had just proposed to Radu that we work together to defeat the vampires who had abducted my fiancé, Jonathan Harker . . . vampires that happened to be his biological children. Vlad Draculesti and his sister Ilona were not only responsible for Jonathan’s abduction, but other abductions and murders occurring all around Europe as well. We needed to stop them, and the only way to do so was to work together.

I was hardly surprised at Anara’s protest—she seemed to hate me the moment she laid eyes on me. Ignoring her protest, I kept my gaze trained firmly on Radu.

“Anara, please,” Radu said, frowning at her. “If it were not for my cowardice . . . if I had just forced myself to kill Vlad years ago . . .”

His voice trailed off, dipping with regret, but Anara interrupted him.

“You told me we were done with this fight!”

“I was in denial, my love. I have known that I would one day be forced to confront my children. It seems that day has come. I can no longer close my eyes to what is happening.”

Anara vibrated with fury, but she turned and vanished from the room in a flash of movement. The tension dissipated with her departure, and I instantly felt more at ease. Yet I still found it hard to believe that we were even in the presence of vampires—I’d been in denial about their very existence for years.

Only days ago, Abe had approached me on the street in London, and then at a society ball, warning me that the mysterious murders all over Europe were linked to a creature we had encountered in Transylvania—a vampire. I’d refused to believe him; it seemed impossible, but when my fiancé was abducted before my very eyes at the same ball by vampires, I could no longer deny what was happening. We had set out from London, determined to track down and destroy the creatures who had abducted my fiancé and bring him home.

But along the way, our train had derailed on the way to Transylvania, and in the aftermath, I discovered the existence of my half-brother Gabriel, a human-vampire hybrid whose very existence revealed that my mother kept more secrets than my father ever had. Gabriel had brought us here to Budapest to meet Radu for answers . . . of which he had many.

“Are there others who would be willing to fight with us?” I asked Radu, forcing my mind back to the present. “You told us of a group that was sent to kill Vlad—an order. Who were they?”

Radu was still staring at the doorway, distracted by Anara’s departure. It took him several moments to respond.

“Members of the Order of the Dragon,” he replied, his dark eyes finally sliding back to mine. “It was an order formed in the Middle Ages. An alliance between ancient vampire families and some trusted humans to maintain order amongst our kind, and to keep our existence hidden from humans. But there has not been an official meeting in over twenty years. After all that has happened, I suspect the surviving members want nothing more to do with the war. But,” he added, when my face fell, “there may be some who are still willing to fight. There is someone here in Budapest who may be willing to join us.”

“Matyas?” Gabriel asked with a frown. “He loathes humans. He can barely tolerate me.”

“He hates Vlad more, and he wants to see him destroyed,” Radu replied. Though his tone was calm, it was edged by steel. “He could be a useful ally.”

“Who is Matyas?” Seward asked.

“The leader of the vampires here in Budapest,” Radu answered. “Like my daughter, he is . . . distrustful of humans. I will need to speak with him before introducing you.”

It seemed as if Gabriel wanted to protest, but he remained silent. I was apprehensive at the thought of being introduced to yet another hostile vampire. Anara had nearly killed us. What would this Matyas do?

“I will not allow him to harm you,” Radu said, as if reading my mind. “As my guests, he will be expressly forbidden to do so. Matyas may not like humans, but he will not harm you without provocation.”

I glanced over at Abe and Seward, who gave me quick nods of assent.

“All right,” I agreed.

Radu excused himself to contact Matyas, offering us his guest rooms to rest in until he sent for us.

“Radu and other vampires can fight Vlad on their own. I can still escort you all back to England,” Gabriel said, as he led us out of the drawing room and up the stairs to the guest rooms.

I tensed. I had grown weary of frequently being told to return to England without Jonathan. I opened my mouth to protest, but Seward interjected.

“Don’t bother trying to persuade her. I’ve already made the same suggestion.”

“She’s not going back to England without Jonathan,” Abe added, echoing my earlier statement. “You don’t know your sister yet—she can be quite stubborn. Her decision has been made since we left London.”

Gabriel frowned, scrutinizing my determined features, but he said nothing.

When we reached the guest rooms on the second floor, Abe asked Gabriel if he could question him further about his abilities while we waited. Abe’s scientific curiosity about vampires had only increased since being in direct contact with them, and he looked so comically delighted when Gabriel agreed that Seward and I smiled at each other behind his back, and the earlier friction dissipated.

“You should rest, Abe,” I chided, my smile fading as I thought of the injury he had sustained during the train derailment on our journey here. “Your wound still needs—”

“The wound is healing expeditiously,” Abe said, waving off my concerns. “I am fine, Mina. There is no need to worry about me.”

They continued down the hall. I was tempted to join them, but fatigue had settled into my limbs like a heavy weight, and I knew I needed to have my wits about me if we were to have a discussion with Matyas.

Like the drawing room, my room was fit for a noble or an aristocrat, with a large bed, a fireplace, and more oriental rugs. I curled up on top of the lush covers of the bed, forcibly clearing my mind of my turbulent thoughts, and I managed to drift off into a restless sleep.

* * *

“If you feel you are in danger, leave immediately. I will protect you,” Gabriel said to us in a low voice as we all descended the stairs two hours later. I’d just been awoken by Gabriel, and was still groggy from my nap. I had to struggle to concentrate on his words. “Long ago, Matyas’ whole family was killed by overzealous humans. He holds human life in no high regard.”

“Christ,” Seward swore. “Why does Radu think he’ll work with us?”

“Because Radu hopes he will put his hatred of humans aside to help destroy Vlad.”

To my surprise, Anara was waiting for us at the base of the stairs. She wore a dress of dark purple silk and lace paired with a black cloak, her skin gleaming in the shadowy entrance hall. She looked the part of a mythic creature straight out of some dark fairy tale.

“Come,” she said, turning to lead us down the entrance hall to a door at the opposite end. She pushed open the door, and it swung open to reveal a set of stairs leading to a massive cellar. There was a lit lantern perched in a wall holder, and she lifted it out before leading us down the stairs; the light from her lantern casting ominous shadows around the darkened cellar as we entered.

She led us to another door, which opened onto a long winding corridor. I had heard of the extensive cave system that ran beneath the Buda Hills, but I didn’t know that they were linked to homes. Though the corridor that lie ahead of us was man made—with its stacked bricks and slots for torches—the ancient underground caves it was carved into had been made by nature.

We entered, walking down the corridor for so long that I became nervous wondering exactly where Anara was taking us, until she abruptly turned into a cavernous room that must have once been a torture chamber with long, rusty metal cages, a fractured wooden rack, and several claw-like metal contraptions chained to its brick walls. It was lit by several ancient torches, which gave the room an eerie glow.

Radu stood in the center of the room, next to another vampire whom I assumed was Matyas. Matyas was as tall as the other vampires in the room, with pale, angular features and icy blue eyes that gave him the appearance of a wolf in human form. He scrutinized each of us, his cold gaze lingering on me.

Matyas approached us, stopping when he was only a foot away, his lips curling back in a derisive sneer.

“A human woman. You believe that you can defeat Vlad?” he asked, his eyes trained on me, his words tinged with a strange accent that I did not recognize.

“I–I don’t think we can defeat him alone,” I said, forcing the words past my lips, which had gone stiff with fear. There was a violence that simmered beneath the surface of this vampire—a violence that even Anara didn’t possess. “I know that we have the same desire to destroy them. That’s why we wish to make an alliance.”

“I do not trust humans,” Matyas declared, turning back to Radu. “You know this. Their fear rules them; even now I can smell it all over them. I want nothing to do with the fight amongst vampires. It is futile. My followers in the city have already agreed. We have lost too many.”

“You said you would consider their request,” Radu said tightly.

“Do you not smell their fear? They would not hesitate to turn on us—to take up arms with other humans against us. The human woman can barely contain her fear and hatred for our kind.”

“I don’t deny that I fear you,” I said, desperation forcing the words from my lips. Matyas whirled back to face me, his eyes narrowing as I continued. “Surely, you can’t blame me for being fearful of vampires? Vlad killed my father before my very eyes. But my desire to save my fiancé is greater than my fear, I assure you. Just as your hatred for Vlad must be stronger than your hatred for us.”

Silence followed my words. Matyas’ eyes remained on me for a disconcertingly long moment, but I was becoming accustomed to the long looks of vampires, and I evenly held his gaze.

“I will not join this fight,” he repeated, turning from me to address Radu. “Your wayward children are not my concern.”

“I accept my responsibility for Vlad—and Ilona,” Radu bit out. “But I have wallowed in my regret for too long. They are bringing destruction to both the human and vampire world. Now is the time to end them.”

“My decision stands,” Matyas said, not at all swayed by Radu’s argument.

Radu straightened to his full height, taking a challenging step towards Matyas.

“I will not forget this,” he hissed. “You have turned your back on your own kind out of cowardice.”

Matyas snarled, a sound that was terrifyingly monstrous, and I instinctively took a step back. The imminent threat of violence in the room was palpable, and Gabriel moved to stand in front of us as Anara hurried to her father’s side. Radu didn’t flinch as Matyas drew closer to him.

“I am far older and stronger than you. I could kill you where you stand,” Matyas seethed. “I will not stand for such insults.”

“Matyas,” Anara said with forced cordialness, moving forward to step between the two vampires. “We accept your decision. There is no need for deyaner.”

I did not recognize the strange word, but I noticed that all the vampires in the room froze at its mention. After a tense moment, Matyas backed away from Radu, though his eyes were still raging with fury.

“Leave now or I will not be restrained.”

“Radu . . . the decision has been made. Let’s take our leave,” Anara said, gripping Radu’s arm.

Radu glared at Matyas before allowing Anara to lead him from the room. Gabriel ushered us out after them, shadowing us as we left the room. But I chanced one last glance back as we left, and I saw that Matyas was regarding me with an expression alight with a strange sort of . . . recognition.

2

The Land Beyond The Forest

“Matyas received the Blood during the height of the witch hunts,” Radu said. “He has seen the very worst of human nature, and he cannot look past it.”

We had returned from the caverns and now sat gathered around the table in an opulent dining room over a meal of paprika hendl. Radu still looked tense from the confrontation with Matyas, his brow furrowed into an anxious frown.

“Are there are any others who will help us?” Abe asked.

“There is a small fortified village of vampires near Klausenburgh, in Transylvania,” Radu said. “Their leader is quite reasonable; she has always been against violence towards humans. If they are still there, I believe they will join us. It would also be a good place for us to prepare for the attack on my son’s fortress. If there is time, they can even train you.”

“Train the humans?” Anara’s words were sharp with incredulity.

“If they are to storm a fortress filled with vampires, they will need to be trained on how to fight them . . . even with other vampires protecting them,” Radu replied, unperturbed by her tone. “Who better to train them to fight vampires than vampires themselves?”

“You’ve already agreed to ally with them,” Anara objected. “Now you want to teach them how to destroy us!”

“In this fight we are on the same side, child,” Radu said, leveling her with a hard look. “You do not have to join us.”

“Radu, I must insist—”

“I will not repeat myself, nor will I argue with you,” Radu interrupted. Anara went rigid, and I thought that she would once again storm from the room. Instead, she looked down at the table, folding her shaking hands into her lap.

“There is a village of only vampires? Are there many of these villages?” Abe asked. He was unaffected by the tension between Radu and Anara, and had taken out his journal, furiously scribbling down notes. “How old is Matyas? How old can vampires become?”

“I am aware of at least seven such villages. Vampires who dislike the ruckus of large human populations prefer them. It is easier for us to live in cities without notice, but not in smaller human villages,” Radu answered. “Vampires are ageless . . . it is only by force or choice that we die. Matyas is one of the oldest vampires I know. He has nearly four hundred years.”

Even though Radu had already indicated Matyas’ great age and I had sensed it from the vampire himself, I was still rattled with astonishment. Matyas had been alive since the fifteenth century. I recalled the coldness in his eyes, the immediate distrust when he looked at us. How much human cruelty had he seen over the centuries? How much had he personally experienced? It was no surprise that he did not trust us.

I told Radu about the vampires in the clearing; the strange language they spoke and the fact that they had left me alive.

“The language is our ancient tongue,” Radu replied. “I do not know—”

“A language?” Abe interrupted, his eyes going wide as he jotted something down in his journal.

“Long ago, we lived in complete isolation from humans, and we developed our own tongue. There are not many who speak it now that we live among humans—those who do are very old, or have learned it from their elders. I know some words, but my knowledge is not extensive. I do not know why they left you alive, but I am grateful that you were spared.”

“What about Ghyslaine?” I asked.

Radu frowned with confusion, and I told him of the word the vampires spoke to me in the clearing, and Vlad’s whisper to me on Westminster Bridge.

“I am surprised my son seems to be aware of the word . . . it is not familiar to me,” Radu said, still frowning. “I am still young for a vampire, merely in my hundred and tenth year. But an older vampire may recognize it. We will come across them in Transylvania.”

A sharp stab of disappointment pierced me at his response. I had so many questions and was hungry for answers, especially this particular one; I knew there had to be some crucial information I was missing. Ghyslaine, whatever the word meant, had to be a vital clue.

Despite my lack of an appetite, I forced myself to eat, first taking a sip of the slivovitz—a sweet sort of brandy Gabriel told me was made from plums. The meal was as delicious as it smelled, and my stomach rumbled in satisfied appreciation when I began to eat.

During the meal, Gabriel told us how he met Radu and Anara. He had come to Budapest for a visit several years ago, wanting to explore the ancient caves rumored to exist beneath the city, and found himself cornered by a hostile Matyas and several of his followers in an isolated part of the Castle District. Matyas had the ability to sense unfamiliar vampires who arrived in the city. He was immediately suspicious of Gabriel, as hybrids were exceedingly rare. Radu had come to Gabriel’s defense, shielding him from Matyas’ rancor by offering to host him as his guest, and he allowed Gabriel to stay with him whenever he visited the city.

I looked at Anara, who was absently sipping the slivovitz, lost in her own thoughts, and I wondered how Radu had come to meet her. They weren’t biological father and daughter, so he must have been the one to turn her into vampire. But under what circumstances? Anara looked up and met my eyes, as if discerning what I was thinking, and I swiftly looked away.

“You should all sleep,” Radu said, as our meal concluded. “We are to take the early morning train to Klausenburgh tomorrow.”

But back in my guest room, I could not sleep. I crawled out of bed and sat down at the reading table, opening one of Abe’s journals that I had borrowed in order to read some of the notes he’d taken.

Vampiric Abilities: Speed, enhanced hearing, visual prowess, esp at night. Great strength. Reduced / no aging (need to clarify) / does not die natural causes . . . immortal. Some—hypnosis, paralysis, telepathy. They call it ‘thrall’. Mind reading? Linked to telepathy? (Need to confirm)

Weaknesses: Needs to consume blood to survive . . . no longer than two weeks, perhaps longer? Some—sensitive to light. Can only die when staked through the heart, otherwise injured but heal. Beheading also works. Other ways to kill unknown. Comparable species—wolves, possibly feline animals. Common descent possible?

Note: need more info on Eva Murray, Mina’s mother.

I froze at the mention of my mother, but turned the page and kept reading.

How is Gabriel’s birth possible? Must be others like him. Note: Vampires able have biological children as well as “create” children i.e. Subjects Radu / Anara. But Mina’s mother human. How possible???

I set down the journal on the table and wearily closed my eyes. Beneath the remnants of shock I had felt since learning of Gabriel’s existence, that same question had been fluttering about in my mind like a restless bird. There must be others like Gabriel, vampires born to human mothers. How many were there? Did some of them turn feral, or were they as kind and human-like as Gabriel? Did they have the ability to turn others into creatures like them? Or did they reproduce as humans did, creating more half-vampire children in the process? These questions were still in my mind as I fell asleep.

* * *

We departed from Radu’s home early the next morning. It was strange and surreal to travel with vampires, watching them take their seats on the train amongst other humans who had no idea they were traveling with creatures of lore. Had I inadvertently ridden the Underground with vampires in London, or in my previous travels across the continent? Had I passed by them on the streets? Paid them no mind as I went about the monotony of my days?

“It’s odd, isn’t it?” Seward whispered to me, clearly sharing my thoughts as the train pulled away from the station. Radu, Anara, and Gabriel sat behind us, and I could feel the chill of their cold eyes on my skin. “A few days ago I couldn’t even say the word ‘vampire’. And now . . .”

“I don’t know if I will ever get used to the knowledge,” I quietly agreed.

“At Scotland Yard, the inspector I trained under taught me a method,” Seward said. “A method that’s become handy. He urged me to not dismiss any possibility when it came to solving a crime—not unless it could be disproven.”

“But some things can’t be disproven,” I said with a frown, thinking of some of the experiments Father had performed.

“Well, that’s just it,” Seward replied with a shrug. “With what I was seeing, I couldn’t bloody well disprove that vampires were killing those people. And because I couldn’t, I didn’t dismiss it. I wanted to; the very notion was absurd. But the more I investigated the Ripper murders, and from my conversations with Abe, I knew there was no other explanation. Now look where we are,” he said, shaking his head in a daze and gesturing towards the vampires seated all around us. “Surrounded by them. And you’re related to one.”

He gave me a wry smile, and I made myself return it, though I still felt uneasy as my gaze found Gabriel in the back of the train.

Our train pulled into the Klausenburgh station just before noon. Abe took a cab to the post office to pick up the weapons the gunsmith had shipped from Amsterdam, before meeting up with us at the stables on the outskirts of town.

At the stables, the stableman seemed to know Radu quite well, giving him a warm smile and embrace as he spoke to him in rapid German. He provided us with several horses, and we were soon riding out of Klausenburgh and into the surrounding countryside, crossing the wide expanse of the Somes Plateau, until we entered the ancient forests that seemed to dominate much of Transylvania.

The same strong sense of nostalgia that had swept over me in Amsterdam affected me once more, but this nostalgia brought back far darker memories.

Transylvania seemed to belong on a continent of its own, with its vast wilderness of forests, isolated lakes, streams and caverns, and the ever-present shadow of the Carpathians looming in the distance. Death seemed to abide here, something the locals seemed to embrace rather than shy away from with their religious rituals. There was the parastas, a memorial service held forty days after the deceased was buried to celebrate the soul’s departure to heaven; the eve of All Souls Day, when family graves were cleaned and candles lit to honor the dead; and the strange tradition of holding a nunta mortilor, a wedding of the dead for a deceased person who had died unmarried.

And then there were the superstitions. The whispered rumors of witches, pixies, and hobgoblins that hid in the forests, ready to do harm to any humans who crossed their path. Father, Abe and I used to come across protective crosses on homes and wreaths of garlic hung in doorways to ward off supernatural evil. Vampires, the monsters in human skin who roamed the night, was the most pervasive rumor.

Emerging from my reverie, I took in the vaguely familiar sights of the Transylvanian countryside. Every once in a while, we passed the crumbled ruins of some medieval castle off in the distance; Saxon towns, villages, fortified churches and farms otherwise dotted the landscape. But the region seemed more deserted than it had been when I first visited—many of the towns and villages we passed were now empty or sparsely populated. I wondered morbidly if this was what the rest of Europe would become. The world. Completely deserted as the population was killed, abducted, or fled.

My hands were trembling on my reins when we arrived at a fortified village sometime later. A high stone wall and several watchtowers surrounded the village on all sides, while a massive gate dominated its entrance. As our horses trotted towards the gate, Radu held up his hand.

“Please remain here,” he said, addressing me, Abe and Seward.

We obligingly lingered behind while Radu, Anara, and Gabriel rode towards the gate. As soon as they dismounted, the gate swung open.

The woman who hurried out enveloped Radu in a warm embrace. She was petite with honey colored skin and fine features framed by a long cascade of dark wavy hair, and her eyes were a vivid mixture of green, brown, and gold. She turned to look at us, and I felt the unmistakable chill of a vampire’s gaze. I saw a brief flicker of recognition in her eyes as she studied me, but it quickly dissipated.

Behind her, dozens of men and women approached the gate, looking both delighted and relieved to see Radu. Radu turned and gestured for us to follow them inside, and we dismounted from our horses, heading through the gate and into the central courtyard.

A white steepled gothic hall church overlooked the large courtyard, which was dotted with a patchwork of vegetable gardens. Saxon-style homes with thatched roofs lined the inner fortress wall, alongside storage cells that had been strategically built into the wall.

I looked around at the people gathered in the courtyard, counting nearly fifty humans—and some vampires, I suspected. From their attire, I deduced that most of the humans were Romani; the women wore the traditional dress of colorful ankle-length skirts paired with aprons and scarves covering their hair, while the men wore hats, vests over their long-sleeved shirts, and boots. There seemed to be no obvious tension between the humans and vampires; they seemed unified, and we were the outsiders.

“Both the Romani and vampires have been persecuted by humans,” Gabriel said softly. He stood at my side, and had noted my surprise. “Vampires have protected them, and they have shielded vampires in turn.”

The female vampire introduced herself as Szabina and ushered us into the church, which was filled with rows of wooden pews, its high-vaulted ceiling making the small interior seem larger and more imposing. We sat in the front pews while the other humans and vampires crowded behind us and in the aisles.

Radu addressed Szabina and the others in Romanian. I didn’t speak the language, but I assumed he was giving them a brief overview of our journey and our intention to get to the fortress to kill Vlad, and rescue Jonathan along with the other prisoners.

As Radu spoke, Szabina’s eyes strayed to me. Though her countenance remained neutral, it seemed oddly probing. Did she know me somehow? When I met her gaze full on, Szabina averted her eyes, returning her focus to Radu.

“Vlad and Ilona’s vampires have attacked near the human villages,” she said, speaking in heavily accented English for our benefit, when Radu had finished. “Those who have not been abducted or murdered have fled to the cities. Those who remain have joined those monsters out of fear. This is one of the few villages they have not attacked. They know vampires dwell here. But soon, they will come.”

“Then time is of great importance,” Radu said urgently. “Will you join us?”

“I do not think the humans should attempt to fight them,” Szabina said, once again glancing at me.

“The humans will fight. They have come too far not to,” Radu said, before we could protest. “They have already survived two attacks by ferals. If you and the others are willing, they can be trained.”

“We tried fighting back against them,” Szabina said, with quiet desperation. “It is why our numbers are low. We have lost many in the fight. We tried riding out to villages for others to fight with us, but no one is left. Whatever Vlad’s plan is . . . he is winning.”

A grave silence fell, and my body grew cold with dread. The villagers back in Ijsbran had refused to join us, then Matyas, and now Szabina. Even with Radu, Anara, and Gabriel, how could we hope to attack the fortress if Vlad had hundreds of followers at his disposal? We could not attack on our own.

“His plan is to invade. You must know that by now,” I said, getting to my feet to face Szabina and all who were gathered. “Our numbers are not great, but we can still fight. What is the alternative? To let them take over? To let them win? You say other villagers have fled. One day soon, there may be nowhere to flee to. We have no choice but to try to stop Vlad. We must.”

As Szabina translated my words, I met the eyes of every human and vampire gathered around the church. The gazes that met mine ranged from caution, to wariness, to hope.

“You know she speaks the truth, Szabina,” Radu said, when Szabina had finished translating.

“She does,” Szabina replied, her eyes holding mine for a long moment. “But I will leave the choice up to the villagers.”

She turned to face the others and spoke in hushed Romanian. I stood nervously as the humans and vampires began speaking amongst themselves. Finally, several men and women turned to Szabina, giving her an affirming nod.

“Very well, Mina,” Szabina said, not meeting my eyes. “They have decided. We will fight one last time.”

3

Training

We took a midday meal in one of the larger homes that lined the fortress wall, where we ate ghiveci—a hearty vegetable stew—and bread. Szabina, Radu, and a few of the curious human villagers joined us as we ate. Szabina and Radu remained in a corner of the large kitchen, speaking to each other in hushed tones. Szabina glanced over at me periodically, her expression tumultuous. I was increasingly convinced that she knew me somehow, and made a mental note to ask her when I had the chance.

But in the meanwhile, I ignored Szabina’s frequent glances, focusing on one of the few English-speaking villagers, a young woman named Elisabeta, who sat with us. She had a cascade of dark curly hair and warm brown eyes, and she kindly answered our questions about the village. She told us that fortified villages such as this one were built in medieval times as a place of refuge for villagers during prolonged sieges and attacks. Such villages now provided a much-needed sanctuary, given the recent rash of vampire attacks.

“My people weak to the attacks—we live on outskirts of villages. Szabina saved our life when our village attacked. She gave us shelter.”

“Weren’t you afraid of them?” Seward asked.

“We always known of the strigoi. Szabina is good. She one of us long ago. Strigoi who attacked—they not like Szabina or Radu. Their eyes black . . . their souls gone. Those strigoi we fear,” she added, with a shiver.

“We need to prepare,” Radu interrupted, moving away from Szabina to take a seat at the far end of our table. “The fortress needs to be thoroughly scouted before we can make an accurate plan of attack. I am having two scouts ride ahead, which gives us a full day and a half to ready ourselves until they return. Szabina and the other vampires here will help train you.”

Soon after our meal, Szabina gathered all the humans who were to fight in the central courtyard, ordering us to bring our weapons with us. Anara, Radu, Gabriel, and several other vampires moved to stand in an intimidating row in front of us.

Despite her petite stature, I could tell that Szabina commanded much respect; she held everyone’s attention as she stepped forward, her multicolored eyes continually straying towards me as she addressed us in Romanian, and then English.

“We are strong and we are fast. Many of us can hold our prey in thrall,” Szabina said, her voice carrying across the courtyard. “But we do have weaknesses. We can be staked or beheaded. Aim for here, or here,” she said, pointing to her heart, and then her throat. “Anywhere else may wound us, but not kill. For the thrall, avoid looking in the eyes . . . that is how we enter your mind.”

She stopped speaking for a moment, allowing her words to settle. Next to me, Seward and Abe listened intently, and I could practically see Abe sorting the information in his mind to be added to his journal later.

“Make certain you have your weapons. None of us will harm you, but the vampires at Vlad’s fortress will try to rip you apart,” she concluded darkly.

I held one of my kukri knives in my left hand; the second one and a knife were securely stowed in my sleeves and the bodice of my dress. Around me, the other humans clutched knives and makeshift wooden stakes. Abe and Seward stood at my side. Seward had lost his revolver in the train derailment, and was now armed with two of Abe’s knives.

Szabina nodded to the other vampires, and they moved into predatory crouches. Though I knew they would not harm us, apprehension filled me at the sight. Even Radu and Gabriel, whom I had slowly come to trust, looked lethal in their crouched positions.

Szabina did not give us the order to run; she and the other vampires merely sprang towards us at an impossibly fast speed.

My instincts set in, and I turned on my heel to race towards the open gates and out of the village, dashing into the depths of the surrounding forest with the other humans.

Seward, Abe, and I kept pace together as we ran, but a vampire soon tackled Seward to the ground from behind, while another grabbed Abe and slammed him against a tree.

I halted when the vampire grabbed Abe, raising my kukri to intervene, but Abe’s eyes met mine as he struggled with the vampire.

“Run, Mina!” he shouted.

I had to remind myself that this was a training exercise; they would not harm Abe. But I was still fearful as I raced away from him.

I only made it a few yards when a hand gripped my neck and pinned me down to the ground from behind. But the grip was gentle, and I twisted around to see Gabriel hovering above me.

“You need to fight me, Mina,” he said. “You can wound me. I will heal.”

I tried to yank myself out of his grip, but he was far too strong. I turned back to look at him, hesitant. My growing trust made me reluctant to wound him; I could not believe that I’d nearly killed him only two days ago.

Seeing my continued hesitation, Gabriel yanked my head backward, more roughly this time, and bared his teeth. At the sight, my instincts took over, and I swiftly sank my kukri back into his shoulder. Gabriel let out a howl of pain, loosening his grip, and I stumbled to my feet to scramble away.

The trees whipped past me as I ran, and through the forest depths I could vaguely hear frantic shouts and cries as the other humans fought off the vampires. But the sounds became more distant as I ran, and I soon found myself in a dark patch of forest.

The trees grew closer together here, their density allowing very little sunlight to filter through their coiled branches—a dark prison erected by nature. A sense of dread crept over me, and I turned to race back towards the village.

But as soon as I turned, I heard a vicious snarl from the black depths of the forest behind me, and felt the cold gaze of a vampire. Had I stumbled across a random feral roaming through the countryside? Had I strayed too far from the others?

I started to dash out of the clearing, lifting up my skirt to pick up my speed, but when I heard the swift cracking of twigs and snapping of branches behind me, I knew the vampire was racing towards me and would soon overtake me. I continued to run, opening my mouth to let out a desperate scream to alert the others.

A cold hand reached out and gripped me by my neck from behind, as Gabriel had done only moments earlier, abruptly cutting off my scream. This time, the hold was far rougher than my brother’s grip had been.

My captor yanked me around. It was Anara, but I felt no relief at the sight of her; her eyes were ferocious and filled with the promise of violence.

She dropped her hand from my throat. Her gaze remained trained on mine as my body lifted from the ground, and I was slammed hard against a nearby tree. Unable to move, terror flooded me as Anara stalked towards me like a wolf approaching fresh prey. When she reached me, her hand again went to my throat, her eyes burning like fire. Her hand tightened around my throat and I panicked as I struggled to breathe.

We were completely alone in the clearing, and her face showed no hint of mercy as she continued to squeeze the air from my lungs. I had no way to defend myself, no way to fight back.

I did not know why Anara hated me so, but even with her hand on my throat, I knew instinctively that she wasn’t evil. There was more to her, a pain and humanity that was absent from the mindless ferals I had encountered. I raised my eyes to hers in desperation, pleading with my eyes for her to release me. But when my eyes locked with hers . . . something strange happened. I saw something. Felt something.

I was a young girl, my reed thin arms wrapped around my legs as I wept and rocked myself back and forth, seated in the center of the splintered wooden floor of a tiny cottage that had been ransacked; furniture and scraps of food were scattered about. In front of me, a man and a woman—my parents?—were being dragged away by a group of men.

“Please! Don’t harm my little girl!” the woman screamed. Her pain was palpable; her body wracked with grief and terror. “Leave my Anara be! Please, she has done nothing! I beg you!”

“Take me, please!” the man begged. “Leave my wife and child alone. Kill me, not them! Please!”

“Mama!” I screamed. The word was thin and my throat was strained, as if I had been crying for days. I scrambled to my feet and raced towards my parents. “Papa!”

One of the men stepped forward and backhanded me, sending me sailing across the room, and I hit the wall with such force that I slipped from consciousness.

And then the scene was gone. I was back in the present, crouched on my hands and knees on the ground, coughing and gasping for breath. Anara had stumbled away from me, her hands pressed to the sides of her head, looking dazed.

I was disoriented by what I had seen, but my self-preservation kept me focused, and I reached for the kukri that had dropped to the ground, holding it out defensively should she try to attack me again.

But Anara made no move towards me, her eyes clouded with confusion as she looked at me, her breathing ragged. We stood at a stalemate for several moments, until I dimly heard multiple footfalls approach the clearing.

“Mina!” Abe shouted as he raced into the clearing, his eyes sweeping over me with fretfulness. “I heard you scream. Are you—”

“I’m . . . I’m all right,” I said hastily, as other humans and vampires began to file into the clearing.

Gabriel hurried into the clearing, pushing past the others, his gaze straying suspiciously from me to Anara. When he saw my throat, he grabbed Anara and pinned her to a tree, his lips curled back in a ferocious snarl.

“Did you harm my sister?” he roared.

But Anara was unfazed by Gabriel’s fury. She was still focused on me, her confused expression shifting to one of suspicion.

“How did you do that?” she demanded, ignoring Gabriel. “You were in my mind. You did something to me!”

“You are far stronger and she’s the one who is bruised! Answer me!” Gabriel shouted.

“What is happening?” Szabina asked sharply. She and Radu entered the clearing, moving past the cluster of humans and vampires who had gathered.

“She attacked my sister!” Gabriel snapped.

“Anara. I already warned you—” Radu began, looking furious.

“I–I wasn’t going to kill her! She was able to release herself from the thrall, which is impossible!” Anara cried, pointing a quivering finger at me. “She was in my mind. I felt her!”

Szabina stiffened at her words, and I saw alarm flicker in her eyes.

“Harming the humans is forbidden,” Szabina said, disregarding Anara’s words, her voice strained.

“You are dismissed from the training,” Radu added. “I will discuss this with you later. Please escort her back to the village,” he quietly ordered two hovering vampires, who approached Anara.

“Listen to me! She looked at me, I felt something in my mind, and I could no longer hold her in thrall. No human has ever done that to me before!” Anara cried fervently, as the two vampires gripped her arms to lead her away.

But Radu and Szabina didn’t look at her, and once she was gone, Szabina approached, studying me closely.

“Is that true?” she asked. “You released yourself from the thrall?”

A hush fell as Abe, and all the others who were gathered, turned curious and awestruck looks towards me. I flushed, suddenly feeling oddly defensive, as if I had done something wrong.

“I–I just looked into her eyes, and I saw—I think I saw something from Anara’s childhood. It was like a dream. Or a memory. Her parents were being dragged away.”

Radu went rigid at my words, frowning. The silence stretched.

“Perhaps it was my desperation,” I said hastily, unable to bear the silence or the strange looks the others were giving me. “If one of you can put me into another thrall, I can show you all what I did, and then—”

“No,” Gabriel interjected. “It is too dangerous, and there’s no guarantee you will be able to release yourself again.”

“We need to learn to defend ourselves against the thrall! It’s one of your most powerful weapons,” I protested. “If I can teach others to do what I just did, our chances against Vlad and his followers are even greater.”

“I agree with Gabriel,” Abe said, looking worried. “It is far too dangerous.”

“My daughter was right,” Radu spoke up, looking at me intently. “We are not aware of any other human who has been able to release themselves from the thrall. Others here may not be able to do the same.”

Tendrils of unease curled around me as everyone continued to look at me like I was a newly discovered specimen. What did it mean that I was able to break the thrall? Yet another question to add to the mountain of unknowns.

“We are losing time. Let us take a break from the training,” Szabina said. “We meet back in the courtyard.”

Everyone began to scatter, casting curious glances at me as they did so. Abe, Seward, and Gabriel approached me, and beneath their polite urgings for me to get some rest, I could see the inquisitiveness in their eyes at this newly discovered ability of mine.

I barely listened to their words. My focus was on Szabina, who remained at the edge of the clearing, watching me with turbulent eyes, before she turned to head back towards the village.

“Are you listening?” Abe asked impatiently. “I want to examine your neck to see if there—”

“Wait here,” I said shortly, leaving them behind as I hurried after Szabina. I was determined to find out the cause of her frequent looks.

She seemed to sense that I was following her, as she picked up her pace. Worried that she would use her vampiric speed to evade me, I quickly jogged forward to move in front of her, blocking her path.

“You keep looking at me. Why?” I demanded.

When Szabina stiffened, averting her eyes, I knew that my inkling was correct. She knew something, and for whatever reason, she was hiding it from me.

“Szabina, please. Do you know something about me?” I pressed. “There is so much that I don’t know about my own past, my own life. If you know something, please . . .” my voice broke, and I had to blink back my tears.

Compassion flared in her eyes, and she expelled a long breath.

“I did not want to believe it at first . . . I still cannot,” she said. “But I have only seen one human break the thrall of a vampire, and I have lived many years. Do you know the name Ghyslaine?”

I froze as my heart began to pummel against my ribcage. Ghyslaine. It did mean something—something vital. I could see it in her eyes. And she knew my connection to it.

I felt a sudden and strange sense of stillness; like the calm right before a violent storm. I had felt it right before Gabriel revealed his identity, and the night that I stumbled into that clearing to find my father’s dead body. It was the sense that everything would soon change, and my world would not be the same.

Szabina’s vivid eyes were now shimmering with blood tears. She stepped forward, placing cold trembling hands on the side of my face, gazing at me with a look of near reverence.

“Wilhelmina Murray,” Szabina whispered. “I know who you are.”

4

Ghyslaine

“Once upon a time, there lived a little girl,” my mother whispered.

I was five years old, seated with my legs tucked beneath me on my bed. It was night, long past my bedtime, but I was wide awake. My mother sat next to me, her eyes distant as she lovingly stroked my hair. The moonlight that filtered in my bedroom window gave her face an eerie glow.

“What was her name?” I asked eagerly.

“Isabel,” Mother replied, after a long pause. “Isabel was the youngest daughter of a family that killed monsters.”

“Monsters?” I whispered, my hands flying to my mouth. “What kind of monsters?”

“Monsters that look like us. Only they take blood. They take life,” Mother replied, her eyes going dark. “But Isabel’s family realized that not all these monsters are evil.”

“But monsters are evil!” I objected.

“Not so, poppet,” Mother said, with a small smile that was more sad than amused. “Many of them could not help that they were monsters. They never harmed humans . . . they only wanted to live in peace. Isabel’s family stopped hunting them, and much time passed. But many of the bad monsters remembered the family. They hunted them down. One by one, all the family members were killed, until there was only one left alive.”

I drew my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs. I usually liked Mother’s stories, but this one was frightening. Yet I still wanted to know more.

“Who was left?” I asked nervously.

“A little girl named Wilhelmina,” Mother replied, pinching my nose affectionately. I giggled, turning my head away. Mother fell silent once more, her hand dropping to the blanket, her eyes growing distant once more. “Wilhelmina was the only one left, but she did not know it. It was best that she did not know, because if the monsters knew about her, they would come after her. But they will not,” she added reassuringly, noticing my alarm. “Because she was hidden away in the biggest city of the human world with a different name; impossible to find. She was . . . she was safe. She lived a long and happy life, away from the monsters and darkness.”

In the faint light, I thought I saw a shimmer of tears in her troubled brown eyes.

“Mama, is this just a story?” I asked.

“Of course, poppet,” she swiftly replied, reaching out to gently cup my chin with a consoling smile. But there was a strain to the smile, and her hand trembled slightly on my face. “Just a story.”

I now recalled the story as I stumbled through the forest outside of the village, hot tears staining my cheeks. Behind me, I could feel both Abe and Gabriel’s concerned gazes on my back as they trailed me. I stopped to lean heavily against a tree, closing my eyes against a fresh rush of tears.

The story my mother told me all those years ago had not been a mere bedtime story.

* * *

In the stunned wake that followed Szabina’s words, she gently led me back to the church, sitting me down in the front pew. I was still reeling, and barely noticed as she politely ushered out the few humans who were congregated inside until we were alone. She must have sent for the others, because Gabriel, Abe, Seward, and Radu soon joined us. Szabina moved to the altar, gesturing for Gabriel to sit next to me in the front pew.

“Ghyslaine is your mother’s family name,” she said somberly, her eyes trained on the both of us.

I blinked at her in confusion. I did not quite know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “My mother’s maiden name was Smith.”

“That was the name she took when she left France for England,” Szabina replied. “Eva Smith. She changed it to protect her identity. Her name was Isabel Ghyslaine.”

The blood drained from my face. Aside from Abe’s sharp intake of breath behind me, the church was still and silent.

“The Ghyslaines were once a noble family who learned of vampires before most humans,” Szabina spoke slowly and softly, as if keenly aware of the weight of each word. “They were already brutal and efficient witch hunters. They were often ordered by royalty to lead the hunts. But there are no witches . . . there have not been for ages. They discovered vampires through their hunts, and the Ghyslaine family massacred scores of vampires. They soon stopped—no one knows why—but they were so hated by our kind that when they began to lose their lands and decline in power, their descendants were hunted down and killed. Many changed their names and went into hiding. Your mother belonged to possibly the last family of descendants. But her family . . . they were good. They were ashamed of the family’s legacy and protected vampires rather than hunt them. Your grandfather was a member of the Order of the Dragon. When he died, your mother took his place. I was a member as well; that is how I came to know her. She was a good person.”

I couldn’t move nor speak, and I was forced into a shocked stillness for several moments.

“She . . . she was ill. She died at sea when she left to get treatment,” I whispered when I was able to find words. I was still struggling to hold on to some threads of truth that I had always known, threads that were now slipping through my fingers. “I–I saw her sick in her bed. Father showed me the headline about the boat sinking; the ticket she purchased. I . . . we held a funeral.”

“She needed to use deceit in order to leave. She was very involved in the fight against Vlad. She was one of the members who attempted to kill him. She hoped that she could kill Vlad and return home to her children. She did not want you to know any of this—not even your father knew,” Szabina whispered, guilt darting across her expression. “She made me vow to never tell of her fate should she be killed in the fight. I never thought I would meet you. I still cannot believe I stand opposite her children.”

“What of my father?” Gabriel bit out. “Who was he?”

“I do not know. She kept that secret. She insisted that he was dead.”

“How did she die?” I whispered.

“She was one of the members of the Order killed in retaliation for his death. I am so sorry,” she said mournfully, her eyes once again glistening with a sheen of blood tears. “We tried to protect the ones who fought Vlad, but his followers were fiercely loyal, angry, and determined. They got to her before we could stop them.”

Gabriel buried his face in his hands and began to weep. I suspected my mother’s death had been a great burden for him; he’d known and remembered her more than I did, and he’d been forced to mourn her death from afar, to shoulder it all on his own. My hand seemed to reach out of its own accord to grip one of his hands, and his hand tightened over mine as he continued to weep.

Grief felt somewhat lighter when it was shared, and I felt a sense of solidarity with Gabriel because of it. Any lingering doubt or unease about what he was had completely dissipated. In that moment, we were just two orphaned children, sharing the heavy weight of parental loss. Everyone else in the church was silent, allowing us this moment to grieve.

In the long silence, memories seized my thoughts. I was once again a five-year-old child, hovering in the doorway of Mother’s bedroom while a nurse tended to her, her sad eyes trained on me. And then she was hovering above me as I tried to sleep, her anguished face glowing in the moonlight, making her appear ethereal and dream like. I must leave. But never forget my love for you, poppet. I love you always. Father was kneeling down next to me, brushing my hair back from my face, his voice wavering as he spoke. Your mother has gone away to get well. She will be better when she returns. The solemn funeral on that rainy October day, Father’s hand clutching mine, the rain mingling with the tears on my cheeks.

“How did they kill her?” I asked suddenly, forcing the ugly question past my lips.

“Mina,” Abe’s concerned voice was behind me, close to my ear, his hand reaching out to rest on my shoulder. “There’s no need—”

“I’ve been kept in the dark for too long,” I interrupted. “I need to know.”

“As do I,” Gabriel whispered, looking pained.

“Mina,” Szabina said, shaking her head. “I do not think—”

“Tell us. We are her children. We deserve to know.”

“She was in hiding in a house in the German countryside,” Szabina said, hesitant. “It was a brief stay . . . just until it was safe for her to return home. She did not want to risk vengeful vampires following her back to London. But Vlad’s followers found her. When we got to her, it was too late. She looked . . . she looked as if she had been tortured. Her body had been drained of blood. We knew we could not send her body back to England, Robert would know that she had not died natural. On the day your mother left England, a ship sank in the Channel; many bodies were lost at sea. We . . . we arranged—” Szabina faltered, lowering her eyes, guilt lurking in their depths, “a forged ticket in her name, and sent a letter to your father telling him that she was on the boat—and her body was lost at sea. We buried her in France with others of her family.”

I closed my eyes. I had wanted to know how she died, needed to know, but the circumstances of her death were even more horrible than I could comprehend. I felt no anger towards Szabina for her actions in hiding the true nature of Mother’s death—it was clear that it had been Mother’s wish. Instead, I only felt a strange numbness. Everything I believed about myself was false; I was heir to a dark legacy that I could no longer deny.

Without a word, I got to my feet and walked out of the church, ignoring Abe as he called after me. Both Abe and Gabriel trailed me as I continued through the central courtyard, past the two vampires who stood guard by the village gate, and into the forest.

Now, they hovered behind me as the numbness dissipated and I began to weep. I wept for my parents, who had both died at the hands of vampires. For my years of ignorance. For Jonathan, whose fate I desperately feared for.

But I did feel an odd sense of completion. The gaps in my knowledge of the past were filled, and I no longer desired my previous ignorance. I felt like a blind woman who had just received the gift of sight after wandering for years in the dark. For the first time, I truly knew who I was and what I had to do. The sudden surge of determination that swelled in my chest was so strong that it overpowered my other tumultuous emotions, and a sort of calm settled over me.

I straightened, wiping away my tears, turning to face Abe and Gabriel. Gabriel still looked grief-stricken, his eyes glistening with tears, while Abe’s face was heavy with worry.

“I have an idea,” I whispered.

* * *

“My mother was able to release herself from the thrall, was she not?” I asked Szabina. “She’s the one you were referring to.”

We had returned to the church, where Szabina and Radu had remained, speaking quietly to each other. Seward still sat in his pew, looking dazed from the latest revelations. He rose from his seat as we entered.

“Yes,” Szabina replied. “She was the only human I knew who could do such a thing. It made her invaluable in the fight against Vlad.”

“Vlad and his followers hate the Ghyslaine family and it appears many of them somehow know that I’m a descendant.”

“You have the look of your mother, and some vampires can smell it in your blood,” Szabina replied with a nod.

“They can smell her ancestry in her blood?” Abe asked, intrigued.

“Yes. Every human has a smell—from their skin, their blood. Families share similar smells. It is not common, but some vampires do have a greater sense of smell than others; it can be passed on to other vampires they create.”

“Is it possible that I’m one of the last descendants of this Ghyslaine family?” I asked Szabina, trying to keep my voice steady as I drew everyone’s focus back to me. There was no time for Abe’s scientific musings about the vampiric sense of smell. Not with what I was planning.

“Yes,” Szabina acknowledged.

“Then when we attack the fortress, I should be used as bait to draw them out,” I continued. “It may be the best way we have of entering.”

“No!” Gabriel protested. “After what we have just learned, how can you even think of—”

“Nothing has changed, Gabriel. I’m now even more desperate to rescue Jonathan—and avenge our mother and my father. We must find a way in without a massive loss of life. We don’t have the numbers to just charge forward. If their focus is on me, they will send their forces out and give the rest of you the time you need to enter. Once we have them scattered—”

“We can enter the fortress in waves and attack,” Radu said, completing my thought.

“Radu,” Gabriel breathed. “You’re not—”

“Mina is right,” Radu interrupted. “We do need a way to lower their defenses. It is what I have been discussing with the others. We have already considered using some of the human villagers as bait if they are willing. Are you certain about this, Mina?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in my voice, though dread stirred in my stomach at the thought, dread that I quickly pushed aside. I had to do whatever it took to get Jonathan away from those monsters.

Gabriel moved to stand in front of me, gripping my shoulders, his desperate eyes searching mine.

“Our mother didn’t want us to know about any of this,” he said. “Your father never wanted you to return to Transylvania. If you put yourself in Vlad’s path, you are defying what they—”

“What would you have me do? Go back to London and let these creatures take over Europe and the rest of the world? My parents’ secrets didn’t keep me, nor anyone safe. It only prolonged the inevitable. I will no longer hide from this. I must do what I can to destroy Vlad and save my fiancé. Stop trying to dissuade me!”

Gabriel dropped his hands from my shoulders, his face turbulent.

“I know you made a promise to her, Gabriel. But I must do this. I’m doing this for our mother—for all of us. I’m finishing what she started. Please understand,” I said, my tone softening.

Gabriel’s eyes darkened and he took a step back from me.

“I have failed her,” he whispered, turning to leave the church.

“I will discuss this new plan with the others. Everyone will need to know their roles,” Radu said after Gabriel’s abrupt departure. Szabina nodded, giving me a long look before she and Radu filed out of the church.

Abe, Seward, and I were now alone. I sank back down into the pew, staring dully out of the windows which illuminated the interior of the church with the fading light of the sun. Abe and Seward were silent, but I could feel their gazes on my skin.

“If you’re going to try to change my mind—” I began, turning to face them.

“We know better,” Seward interjected, giving me a small smile. “I’m going to see what I can do to help the others. I’ll leave you alone.”

Abe lingered for a moment before following Seward, and I sat alone in the stillness of the church. I thought of my mother, Isabel Ghyslaine, the mysterious and shadowy figure from my early childhood, who had now taken on a fully formed image in my mind. She had been brave, strong, loyal, and loving. How had she managed to keep so many secrets? To know of the dark world of vampires that lurked unnoticed in the midst of humans, an invisible storm cloud that hovered above the entire world. How isolated she must have felt towards the end of her life, to bear such a secret alone. She had a brief taste of normalcy and happiness with her children and her husband, before it was snatched from her. The tragedy of her short life and death suddenly hit me with a force so strong that I keeled over in the pew, wrapping my arms around my body.

I closed my eyes against the tears that rose, sharply blinking them away. The time for tears had passed. My mother’s burden had become my own, and after years of ignorance, it was time for me to complete what Isabel Ghyslaine had set out to do with the other members of the Order of the Dragon. Destroy Vlad Alexandru Draculesti, and those that followed him.

5

Monsters And Darkness

I dashed through the thicket of trees, their branches whipping past as I hurtled by. Behind me, several vampires gave chase, rapidly closing in on me. I skidded to a stop as I reached a small clearing, where Szabina was waiting, crouched in the familiar stance of attack.

Trying to steady my breathing, I raised my kukri, but Szabina lunged forward before I could, pinning me down beneath her as she bared her elongated fangs. A strangled scream caught in my throat as she leaned in close, her fangs a mere inch from my throat.

She released me, springing back to her feet as she looked down at me with grave disappointment.

“You are dead,” she said wearily. “Mina, you are not using your instincts.”

I struggled to my feet, discouraged. Though this was just a training session, the chase had left me shaken. Szabina and the other vampires had been training me for hours now, and I could feel the heat of the midday sun penetrating the thick shade of trees, heating my flushed and sweating skin.

When I left the church the evening before, Radu and Szabina announced that training would continue the next day. I had eaten a dinner of mamaliga—a sort of porridge—and leftover vegetable stew in Szabina’s home with Abe and Seward, before Elisabeta led us to our quarters for the night. Abe and Seward stayed in one of the homes with Gabriel and two other male villagers while I stayed in Elisabeta’s home. She insisted that as the guest, I use the bedroom and waved away my protests as she left to sleep in the main room.

Despite my turbulent emotions, I managed to fall asleep quickly, with Jonathan’s photo clutched in my hand.

As I ate breakfast with the others the next morning, Radu informed us that the scouts had returned and it was time to continue preparing for the next day’s attack. He detailed the plan of penetrating the fortress, emphasizing my role as the first to approach. Multiple stunned gazes fell on me at the announcement, and I had to force myself to maintain a stoic countenance. Since I was so integral to the initial attack, Radu insisted that I train on my own and separately from the others.

I had now spent hours under Szabina’s tutelage, who trained me with several other vampires from the village. I had felt Anara’s eyes on me that morning, her expression indiscernible, but to my relief, I overheard Radu inform her that she was not to be included in my training after her actions the day before.

With Szabina and the others, I had practiced my flight on foot and on horseback, as well as warding off attacking vampires with my kukri, the stakes, and the wolfsbane. But I still felt desperately unprepared, and tears of frustration welled in my eyes as I dusted myself off.

“You do not have to do this,” Szabina said, assessing my distress. “We can find another way to enter the—””

“No,” I cut her off, wiping at my eyes. As terrified as I was, I knew that using me as bait was the best way to weaken their initial defense. “I can do it.”

“Then we need to keep training,” Szabina said. “There is no time for rest.”

She had barely completed the sentence when I was once again thrown back against a nearby tree, unable to move. She had placed me into a thrall. She crept towards me, her fangs bared and her eyes lethal, while the other hovering vampires watched in silence.

Though I knew Szabina would not harm me the way Anara had, fear stirred in me as the paralysis took hold. I concentrated on her eyes, as I had with Anara. And once again, I saw a flurry of images. It was like being an active part of a waking dream.

I was a young woman, encircled in the arms of a handsome male vampire. We were standing in a darkened forest clearing, and I felt a combination of both love and sorrow as his head dipped towards my throat, his fangs sinking into the soft flesh.

I was released from the hold, throwing out my arms to break my fall as I plummeted to the ground. Szabina stumbled back from me, her trembling hands pressed to the sides of her head. I took advantage of her disorientation to leap to my feet, my kukri outstretched, placing the blade against her neck as I evenly met her eyes. Szabina still looked out of sorts, but she gave me a small nod of approval.

“Nikolaus, Kudret,” she said, turning towards two of the hovering vampires. I recognized them as the vampires Radu had sent on the scout to the fortress. Though one was light and the other dark—Nikolaus with light brown hair and blue eyes, Kudret with dark hair and brown eyes—they could have almost been brothers, with their similar muscular builds and striking handsome features. “Please continue her training. I–I will return.”

“I would like to help,” Gabriel said quietly.

I whirled in surprise as Gabriel stepped from the cluster of trees behind us. He had not said a word to me since our row in the church yesterday, and his face was conciliatory as he approached.

“If . . . if it’s not a bother,” he added.

“No,” I said, giving him a small smile. “Not at all.”

Szabina gave him a nod as she left, and we remained in the clearing until the sun began its descent towards the horizon. Gabriel and the others trained me on how to evade attacks, practice offensive moves, and even how to disguise my scent with dirt. By the time Szabina returned to the clearing to end the training, my limbs were sore and screaming with protest.

“You have done well, Mina,” Szabina said as the other vampires began to file out of the clearing. “Sleep well tonight. You need to rest.”

I watched her file out of the clearing after the others, wondering about the images I had seen. Who was that male vampire? What was her connection to him?

“Mina,” Gabriel said, coming to stand at my side. “I want to apologize for—”

“There is no need,” I said, shaking my head. “You promised our mother you would keep me safe. I understand your concern.”

“It is not just my promise to her. You are my only family. I worry for you as my sister. I will not try to dissuade you again, but please be careful tomorrow. Vlad, Ilona and his followers are vicious.”

“I know,” I said, though a chill swept through me at his words. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

“Mother said you would be headstrong. I underestimated how much,” Gabriel said, his lips twitching with a wry smile as we headed back towards the village. “She said you weren’t like other little girls—you had an insatiable curiosity, an intelligence beyond your years. She seemed to know you would not have a common life.”

“Gabriel?” I asked, stopping as we reached the front gate of the village. He looked down at me with a raised brow. “How . . . how was she?”

I had been meaning to ask Gabriel about my mother, but my previous fear of him and shock at his very existence had prevented me from doing so. Even with all that Szabina had told me, I was still hungry for any knowledge about her.

“Kind. Loving. She had great humor. I remember once when I was still a boy, she came to the house to take me into town. She bought me a sweet ice and found a group of children for me to play street football with. I wasn’t often around other children. They didn’t seem to care that I looked different, and it was the most fun I’d had in quite some time. I won the first round, and when I looked over to see if Mother saw . . . there were tears in her eyes. I thought I’d done something to upset her. But when I asked her what was the matter, she assured me she was all right,” Gabriel said, looking haunted by the memory. “There were many times when she was like that. Distant. Sad. I still wonder what she was thinking about when she seemed to lose herself.”

His voice trailed off on the last word, and he turned from me to enter the gate, his body taut with renewed grief. As I watched him go, a powerful thought swept through my mind. I will avenge her for you. I will avenge her for us both.

During dinner in Szabina’s home, I ate in tense silence with Abe, Seward, and Gabriel. I had no doubt they were as nervous about the next day’s attack as I was. Radu stepped in to urge us to get as much rest as possible; we would be awoken to leave when it was still dark. Before he left, his gaze found mine and held it, as if searching for any hesitation, but I steadily returned his look.

When we were alone, Seward solemnly lifted his cup of water, looking at each one of us.

“A drink,” he said. “To killing vampires. Ah, I mean—” he faltered, his eyes straying to Gabriel, his cheeks filling with color.

“It is no bother,” Gabriel said, amused.

“To defeating evil vampires,” Abe corrected, giving Seward a rueful smile.

We lifted our cups to meet his own. As everyone drank, I set mine down.

“I wanted to thank you all,” I said. “For taking this journey with me. I was mad to think I could do this on my own.”

“You and I started this journey together, before we were even aware,” Abe replied. “Years ago, in that forest where your father was murdered. It is apropos that we shall finish it together.”

“Let’s pray we can kill those bloody things,” Seward said. “God help us if we fail.”

We headed to our quarters, Abe lingering behind to fall into step beside me as Seward and Gabriel went ahead.

“Are you well enough to fight tomorrow?” I asked, my eyes flickering down to his side with concern.

“Yes. I was quite all right during the training, the wound has healed well and I no longer feel any pain. You fret too much, Mina,” Abe replied, giving me a wry look. “I should be the one worried about you.”

“I’ll be all right,” I said hastily, looking up at the night sky that was blanketed with stars. I stopped walking, taking it in as a sudden memory assailed me.

“Remember the night rides we took with Father?” I asked. “To try and locate what specimens we could find in the dark?”

“Yes,” he replied, with a fleeting smile.

“The stars on those nights in the countryside, it was such a beautiful sight,” I mused, feeling an ache at the memory. We had not yet heard rumors of wolf attacks in the Transylvanian countryside, the tales of strigoi had seemed like superstitious nonsense, and the future was still rife with wonder and possibility. I had no idea of the monsters in our midst—the monsters I would be forced to confront.

“Many could die tomorrow, Mina,” Abe said bluntly. His words sent me careening back to the present, and I whirled to face him, taken aback by his grim words. “I could die.”

“No, Abe,” I whispered. “Do not say such things. We have a plan. It will mitigate loss of life. You are certainly not going to die tomorrow. I won’t hear of it.”

“This whole journey we have been perilously close to death—Arthur’s demise proves it. Tomorrow we will be closer to it than we ever have before. If I do die tomorrow,” he continued gravely, taking a step closer to me, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper. “Rescue your fiancé. Take him home to London, marry him, and live the life your mother wanted you to live. Away from monsters and darkness. Live in the light of the sun. After all that you have been through, I want you to be happy, Mina. Your happiness is all that I have ever wanted.”

I could tell there was something he wasn’t telling me, something that he dare not say aloud, and I suspected I knew what it was. He was studying me intently, waiting for my response—needing my promise, as Arthur had on that boat in the North Sea.

But I would not give him the promise he wanted to hear. His words stirred up dormant emotions that once again rose to the surface, only this time I did not try to suppress them. I had realized something I long suspected to be true; something I’d tried to deny for three long years. Though I loved Jonathan with all of my heart, I also loved Abe, and I could not bear the thought of losing either of them. I would ride to the ends of the earth to rescue him, just as I had with Jonathan.

“I can’t promise you that,” I said, my eyes locking with his. He paled at my response, and I continued. “Yes, I will rescue Jonathan and take him home. But if you die tomorrow… I will never be happy again. You stay alive, Abraham Van Helsing.”

6

Fortress Of Blood

The fortress was perched on a low peak of the Carpathians, the spires of its towers winding out of the fog and towards the early morning sky like a fallen angel beseeching the heavens. My hands quivered as I gripped the reins of my horse, guiding it up the precariously steep mountain path that led to the fortress’ gatehouse. I could almost feel the hesitation in the tightly coiled muscles of my horse as he clamored up the path; it was as if he somehow knew we were entering the realm of monsters.

I cast a glance back down the mountain path, towards the cluster of trees at the base where Radu, Szabina, Anara, Gabriel and the others were lying in wait.

Before we had left the fortified village, hours earlier when night still warded off the dawn, Radu had briefly ran through the plan once more. Human volunteers would willingly let Vlad’s scouts capture them, whom Nikolaus and Kudret had witnessed patrolling the outskirts of the fortress. Abe, Seward, Elisabeta, and several of the human villagers had bravely volunteered for the task. Soon after their capture, I would approach the fortress on my horse, making sure to be in full view of the watchtowers. When the gatehouse doors lifted and Vlad’s vampires inevitably came towards me, I was to turn around and ride back down the path and into the surrounding forest, where Radu and the other vampires would be waiting. Together, they would surround the attacking force and slaughter them, and we would all enter the fortress through the open gates.

Abe, Seward and the other human volunteers had left ahead of us, their clothes dirty and torn, disguised as roaming peasants. Seward had given me a warm embrace of farewell, but Abe had tactfully avoided me, not even meeting my eyes as he climbed onto his horse. When I’d hurried forward to bid him farewell, his eyes only briefly met mine and he’d given me a curt nod before he galloped away. I watched him go with a searing aguish in my chest, silently praying that I would see him again. But I had set it aside, forcing myself to focus on the battle that lay ahead as I made my way out of the village and towards the fortress.

Our journey had been silent with foreboding. The forests had seemed to deepen and grow thicker as we drew closer to the fortress, and it truly felt as if we were leaving civilization behind and entering a dark world where nightmares were a reality.

We finally arrived at the base of the fortress as the sun began its ascent into the sky, hiding ourselves in a cluster of trees. Gabriel had dismounted and, without a word, pulled me into his arms. Though his skin bore the cold of a vampire, I felt a surprising warmth at his touch, and I leaned into his embrace. When he stepped back, his face was shadowed with worry. I suspected there was much more he wanted to say, but his words were brief.

“Be safe, sister,” he whispered.

Radu and Szabina gave me assuring nods, while Anara met my eyes with a look of detached impassiveness. I mounted my horse, leading him on a slow trot out of the forest and up the mountain path.

Now, as I made my way closer to the fortress, I could see the barbican leading towards the imposing iron gatehouse, and my pulse increased, battering away at my skin. I had no doubt that I had been seen from one of the towers, and it was only a matter of time before I was pursued. I brushed my fingers against the kukri that was tucked beneath the left sleeve of my dress, and the second one that was tucked beneath my right sleeve. There was a stake and a knife stowed in my bodice, along with a pouch of wolfsbane, which was also wound into my tight bun.

Despite my weapons, I felt great trepidation at the thought of what I would soon face, and my hands trembled even more as I gripped the reins. I forced myself to think of Jonathan, trapped somewhere inside the imposing fortress, and the thought was all I needed to urge my horse forward until we were moving in a full gallop towards the gatehouse.

Up ahead, the jagged iron gates of the fortress slowly screeched upwards, but no one came out. I pulled back on the reins of my horse, bringing him to a complete stop, and scanned the courtyard that lay behind the gates. Thick fog encased the courtyard, and after several long moments that seemed suspended in time, a small group of figures emerged like apparitions through the fog.

Vampires clamored out of the gatehouse and down the path of the barbican, their fangs bared in fierce snarls.

I recognized one of them. It was Matyas, the vampire in Budapest who had refused to join us. Rage and panic flared in my chest at the sight of him. If he was on Vlad’s side, he must have told him of our plan.

I acted quickly, steering my horse around and clamoring back down the steep incline. The vampires’ horses were getting closer, and I could almost feel the hatred radiating from the vampires as they raced after me. I kept my focus on the path downhill, my heart in my throat as I leaned forward to kick the sides of my horse, urging him to gallop even faster.

But soon one of the vampire’s horses closed in on me, until we were parallel. Panic coursed through me, but I kept my gaze straight ahead. I reached for the knife tucked in my bodice, but a strong arm snaked around my waist from the side, yanking me from my horse and tossing the knife from my hand.

I screamed, struggling in my captor’s arms as my horse continued to clamor down the mountain. I twisted my head around to see Matyas’ icy eyes, his grip tightening around my waist. The wolfsbane tucked in my dress and wound throughout my hair clearly had no effect on him, as he reached into my bodice and my hair to toss it aside while I fruitlessly struggled to release myself from his vise-like grip. He steered his horse back towards the fortress, the other vampires continuing their progress down the mountain, and I realized with horror that they must know that others were waiting.

Beneath my fear, a wave of overwhelming despair swelled. I had failed before our plan had a chance to unfold, and my failure would lead to even more deaths. I could not stifle the strangled sob that escaped my throat, making one last desperate attempt to yank free of Matyas’ grip.

“Keep struggling and your death will not be quick,” he hissed, his lips cold against my ear. “I can keep you alive for days . . . as we did your mother.”

I froze in shock, my eyes filling with horrified tears. Had Matyas been one of the vampires who had tortured and killed my mother? I recalled the brief flare of recognition in his eyes when he saw me in Budapest, and rage seized me.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, forcing myself to speak through a maelstrom of panic and fury. I needed to push past my unstable emotions and focus. I still had my kukri knives and the stake; I prayed that he did not find and remove them. There was still a chance of getting away, but I needed to keep him distracted. “Radu trusted you.”

“Radu is a fool. He refuses to see what is certain to come,” Matyas spat. “As are you. We are too powerful and too great to be defeated—as your ancestors learned.”

His grip remained firm as his horse clamored the remaining way up the mountain path and through the gatehouse.

The fog had dissipated, and I could see that the inner courtyard, which may have been stunning centuries ago, was now in a state of decay. The stone paving on the ground was cracked and disintegrating; the central gardens had grown wild with long-dead plants. The keep and surrounding buildings consisted of decaying grey stones; their windows grimy with both dust and age. The entire castle seemed heavy with the feel and stench of death.

A terrified young man stepped forward to take the horse when we clattered into the courtyard, keeping his gaze lowered out of either respect or terror, though I suspected it was the latter. Matyas leapt off the horse, taking me with him as he forcefully dragged me towards the keep by my neck, his grip bruising and firm. I managed to keep my arms close against my sides, praying that neither of my weapons would slip out.

Scores of vampires crept out of the surrounding buildings as Matyas dragged me through the courtyard, like vultures gathering around dying prey. Many of them had the same look of the ferals we had encountered, with unnatural red or black eyes and empty stares; others looked eerily human, the only telltale sign of vampirism their pale, colorless skin or their lips flushed with blood. They all trained their cold gazes on me as Matyas continued to drag me forward, and I heard some hiss Ghyslaine as we went by. They could easily tear me apart, and I could tell by the hunger in their eyes that they longed to. Matyas’ grip on me seemed to signal to them that I was forbidden. For now.

We arrived at the entrance of the keep and the doors were swung open from the inside by another human, this one a frail woman who also kept her eyes lowered, and I could see that she was practically quaking with trepidation.

I looked around as Matyas yanked me inside. We were in a massive central foyer that had the same sense of decay as the exterior. The four winding staircases that led to the upper floors and towers were crumbling, the stone walls decrepit with age and neglect. He led me through another set of doors, opened by another trembling woman, and we were now in what must have once been a great hall, with intricate stained glass windows, ornate high vaulted ceilings, and a long wooden table in the center that nearly spanned the entire hall.

I barely noticed the decor of the room as Matyas tossed me to the floor. I fell to my knees, my loosened hair falling over my face, barely managing to keep my weapons from sliding out of my sleeves. I hastily shoved my hair out of my eyes, going still when I saw who stood before me.

It was the tall dark man and the beautiful golden-haired woman I recognized from the Langham, who I now knew were Vlad and Ilona. Standing next to Ilona, her arm wrapped proprietarily around his waist . . . was Jonathan. My Jonathan.

He looked both familiar and strange. He still wore the fine shirt and trousers he had worn to the ball. But he was now pale, his lips colorless, the usually warm hazel eyes foggy and unfocused. He was thinner, and barely seemed able to hold himself upright, leaning heavily on Ilona for support. But most disconcertingly, he studied me without a trace of recognition, only a mild curiosity.

Oh God, I thought in a panic. What have they done to you?

“Jonathan,” I whispered, focusing only on him and not the monsters who surrounded him. “Jonathan, it’s me, Mina. Are you all—”

“He is no longer your love,” Ilona hissed, her brilliant green eyes glittering with fury. Her voice was light and melodious, and even tinged with rage it possessed an air of seduction. “It was foolish for you to come here, Wilhelmina.”

“Matyas tells me you intend to destroy us,” Vlad said, his cold dark eyes trained on me, as Matyas stepped forward to join them. His voice was older than his appearance, oddly hypnotic and rich, filling the large hall with its volume, and I recognized it from Westminster Bridge. His was a voice and a presence that was used to command. “But you and the Order are far too late to stop us. My loyal followers all over Europe are ready to strike. We will soon be at our rightful place in the world.”

An ominous chill crept through me as I recalled Abe’s fateful words in London. Strange murders all over Europe, he had said. Berlin. Paris. Amsterdam. Was Vlad right? Were we too late? Would Europe inevitably fall to these monsters?

Once again, I forced myself to focus. I carefully angled my arm so that the hilt of one of my kukri knives rested at the base of my palm. One quick and well-aimed throw and I could lodge it into Vlad’s heart; but the others would instantly be on me, and I would be dead.

Where were the others? Had Abe and the human villagers been found out? Had the group of vampires with Matyas already slaughtered Radu and the others? If I was truly on my own, I had no chance of escape.

“Why did you come here?” Ilona demanded. “Jonathan is lost to you now. He will soon be one of us. Humans have had their time. It is time for a new world.”

“You’re mad,” I whispered, trying not to panic at her words about Jonathan, as I subtly dislodged the kukri from my sleeve. If I could move quickly enough, perhaps I could distract them by injuring Vlad before grabbing Jonathan. It was a large fortress with plenty of places to hide until the others—if they were still alive—came to my defense. “Humans outnumber your kind,” I continued, gripping the hilt in my hand. “You all will be killed en masse if you even attempt to—”

“Your mother spoke similar words,” Matyas interjected with a cold sneer. “Do you know how she died? Screaming in agony.”

“As did your father,” Vlad added, infuriatingly casual. “How appropriate that their meddling daughter will die in the same manner.”

Rage flooded through my entire body, only this time I made no effort to quell it. My hand was on the hilt of my kukri as I leapt to my feet, swinging it out in an arc towards Vlad. Vlad caught the blade in his hand with ease, his palm going crimson with blood as he clutched it, tossing it to the ground.

And I was instantly airborne, hurled back against the far wall and paralyzed as he put me into a thrall. In a movement so fast that I could not track it with my naked eye, he was instantly before me, his black eyes burning as he wrapped one large hand around my throat and began to squeeze.

7

Escape

Vlad’s eyes were shut as his hands squeezed the air from my throat. I was unable to release myself from the thrall. I weakly raised my eyes to meet Jonathan’s disoriented ones across the room, hoping to somehow reach him, to penetrate the fog. I thought I glimpsed a small flicker of recognition in his eyes, but soon his face was gone as my vision began to dim, and I knew that I was only seconds away from losing consciousness.

I have failed you, Jonathan. I am so sorry, I thought, as the world around me began to fade.

But I was abruptly released, sliding to the cold floor, coughing and grasping at my throat as I took in great gulps of air.

My vision cleared and I looked up to see that Radu, Szabina, Gabriel, and the others had charged into the great hall, with Vlad’s followers right on their heels.

Radu had been the one to release me from Vlad’s grip, and his hand was now wound around his son’s throat as he lifted him bodily into the air, his eyes filled with hot fury.

“This ends today, Alexandru,” he roared, hurling his son over the massive wooden table to the far wall with a force so great that it cracked upon his impact.

Radu leapt across the table, temporarily airborne before landing opposite his son, who had stumbled weakly to his feet, and they began to fight in a flurry of impossibly fast moves.

Szabina raced toward Matyas, who had backed up fearfully upon their entrance. She looked more terrifying than I had ever seen her; her eyes wild, her fangs exposed.

“Traitor!” she screamed, tackling Matyas to the floor.

The great hall descended into chaos as Vlad’s followers and our vampire allies began to fight; tearing into each other’s flesh with their hands and fangs, snapping necks, hurling bodies across the room; their movements as rapid as a hummingbird’s wings.

In the melee, I temporarily lost track of Ilona and Jonathan as I stumbled to my feet, still gasping for air. But I soon found them. Ilona was dragging the still dazed Jonathan out of the rear exit of the hall. Gabriel rushed to my side, helping me the rest of the way up as he placed my kukri in my hands.

“I’m all right,” I said quickly, my eyes still trained on the rear doors, where Ilona and Jonathan had disappeared. “I’m going after Jonathan and Ilona. They’ve done something to him.”

Gabriel nodded, gripping my arm to lead me out of the hall, but I stopped him.

“Matyas,” I said, biting out the name with fury. I gestured to the center of the hall, where Szabina and Matyas stood fighting on top of the table. “He killed our mother.”

Gabriel’s silver eyes darkened with rage at my words, his grip going slack on my arm.

“I have my weapons. You can find me,” I said, moving away from him. I could see Gabriel’s hesitation, torn between his need to protect me, and his desire to avenge our mother. His rage seemed to win the battle, and he gave me an affirming nod before charging towards Szabina and Matyas.

I tore around the table and towards the exit, but a towering, wild-eyed male vampire I recognized as one of the vampires from the courtyard suddenly appeared before me and grabbed me by my neck, slamming me backwards against the table. My body reeled in agony at the painful impact, and the vampire leaned down, his fangs exposed, sinking them into my throat. I cried out at the sharp searing pain of his teeth in my flesh but managed to arch backwards, using my free hand to lodge my kukri into his back. He snarled with pain, removing his teeth from my neck as he did so, and I used the opportunity to kick him off of me as I sank my kukri into his heart. He sank to the floor, his cold hands over mine in a futile attempt to release my blade, but I held firm, even as his dark red blood flowed over my hands and his eyes fluttered shut.

I yanked out my blade and pushed past the blur of fighting bodies as I continued heading towards the door. Another vampire grabbed me from behind, but this time I managed to whirl out of her grip, continuing my desperate flight towards the door.

A hulking male vampire seemed to sense my intent and moved to stand in front of the door, his red eyes trained on mine in open challenge. My urgency to get to Jonathan was so great that I felt no fear as I charged towards him, only resolve, and when the vampire charged towards me with a snarl, I was ready.

My stake was already out, and as soon as he was a breath away, I staked him clean through his heart. As he stiffened and howled in pain, I arched my kukri towards his throat, slicing his head clear from his body, his crimson blood splattering across my face and my dress.

I kept moving, darting over his headless body towards the door, racing into the corridor just outside the hall.

The corridor was empty, and I allowed myself a moment to clutch the wall and take several deep breaths, wiping the slick blood off of my face with trembling hands. When I looked up, I caught a brief glimpse of Ilona and Jonathan’s retreating forms as she dragged him up a winding staircase at the far end of the corridor.

I tore after them. When I reached the base of the staircase, I glanced up. The stairs seemed to twist and wind upwards indefinitely, leading to the apex of one of the towers, and I could hear their footsteps as they ascended.

Hiking up my skirt, I charged up the stairs. But when I reached the second curve, I was hurled against the crumbling stone wall of the tower, paralyzed.

A group of ferals scrambled towards me from the base of the stairs, their eyes blazing with eagerness and hunger as they approached. Near hysteria filled me at the sight of them, and I struggled to remain calm, searching the group for the vampire who held the thrall. My gaze landed on a stocky male vampire with a shock of ash blonde hair. He was in the very front of the group and appeared to lead the rest. His black eyes were trained on mine, his lips curled back in a snarl.

I stood in the center of a village that had been burned to the ground. Despair swept over me as I sank to my knees and wept. I felt a cold presence approach, and looked up to see a dark figure approach, opening its mouth to reveal a sharp pair of fangs.

I was released from the hold as the vampire stumbled back, looking dazed and disoriented; but the other vampires continued to charge towards me.

I turned to continue racing up the stairs, but they were close on my heels, and a feral launched herself at me from behind, tackling me down to one of the steps. She yanked my head back and I screamed as she slurped eagerly at my still bleeding neck wound, her rail-thin arms keeping me pinned to the steps with inhuman strength. My stake and kukri had slipped from my grip, and I could only watch helplessly as the other ferals surrounded us on the narrow staircase, eagerly awaiting their turn to feast.

“Hakeel ishta mi,” a voice hissed from further down the stairs.

The feral stiffened and instantly lifted her bloodstained fangs from my throat, turning towards the source of the voice. The ferals who surrounded us followed her gaze.

I looked down the stairs. I was startled to see Anara standing further down the stairs. Abe hovered behind her. She was focused on the ferals, who now stood stock still, as if they were hypnotized by her strange words.

“Mina,” Abe said quietly, his eyes also trained on the ferals. I could tell that he was trying to appear calm, but his voice quavered. “Anara will distract them. Move away from them, slowly.”

Anara’s eyes did not shift from the vampires, and they remained as still as statues.

I cautiously sat up, reaching behind me to pick up my weapons. I gingerly got to my feet, gripping both the kukri and stake should they come out of their daze and strike, but they remained perfectly still as I crept backwards up the stairs.

Anara gave Abe a small nod, keeping her focus on the ferals, and he edged around Anara to creep up the stairs, his face white with terror as he brushed past the immobile ferals and reached my side.

We turned and continued to race up the stairs. I cast one last glance back down towards Anara and the ferals as we ran, surprised that she had saved my life and wondering how she was able to control them.

“Anara was one of the vampires who freed us and the other prisoners,” Abe said, panting as we darted up the stairs. “She did that same trick on our vampire guards. When we came up from the dungeons, Gabriel pulled us aside and told us where you were. I am so very relieved that we found you.”

“Ilona has Jonathan,” I said, my words coming out in short gasps as we ran. I could see the top of the tower now, only fifty steps away. “I don’t think he’s been changed yet. But something’s terribly wrong. They’ve done something to him.”

We reached the top of the stairs where a small narrow corridor led to a chamber door at the far end. The door was partially open, and I could see the shadow of two figures inside.

I sprinted forward, Abe on my heels, clutching the hilts of my kukri and stake so tightly that it felt as if my palms would bleed. I shoved open the door, which opened onto a grand bedchamber.

Jonathan and Ilona stood just outside the chamber on a narrow balcony, dangerously close to the edge. Ilona’s green eyes were alight with hatred as they landed on me, while Jonathan’s gaze remained unfocused. Abe entered the chamber behind me, and Jonathan’s eyes slid towards him, a dark look flickering briefly across his features.

I took a cautious step towards them, terrified of what Ilona would do next. I ached to throw my blade into her heart, but she was standing too close to Jonathan. I had to get him away from her.

“Jonathan,” I said desperately, trying to keep my voice steady as I addressed him. “It’s me, Mina. Your fiancée. You were abducted. I’m here to take you home.”

“His home is with me!” Ilona shouted, taking another step closer to the edge of the balcony, pulling Jonathan along with her. I stilled as she turned to give Jonathan a look that was both loving and dangerous. “He is with us now.”

“Jonathan,” I repeated, disregarding her words as I implored him with my eyes. He still looked as if he was trying to recall my identity. If I could get him to take just one step away from her, I would have a clear shot. “Please, Jonathan, I need you to remember that—”

“Jonathan,” Ilona interjected, leaning seductively close to Jonathan, brushing his ear with her lips. “Kill her. Tear out her and her lover’s throat.”

I watched in horrified astonishment as Jonathan seemed to heed her words and immediately moved towards us. The uncertainty had vanished, and those eyes that once shone with so much love for me, were now dark with deadly purpose. From behind him, Ilona smiled.

“Jonathan!” I shouted, blinking back tears of disbelief as Jonathan stalked towards us. “Jonathan, it’s me! Mina! Your Mina!”

“Mina.” Abe was at my side now, his breath close to my ear, his voice panicked. “Leave now. Let me try to reach him.”

“No,” I said fiercely. If anyone could reach Jonathan, it was me.

I boldly crossed the chamber to meet him as he approached. Jonathan halted, another flash of confusion flickering across his face as I moved towards him. It was a moment that I seized, closing the remaining distance between us to place my hands on his face, which was dangerously feverish and clammy.

“The carriage ride down Piccadilly in London,” I whispered, holding his disconcerted eyes. I prayed that this memory would pull him out of this trance and back to me. I could feel both Ilona’s cold look and Abe’s fearful presence, but I focused only on Jonathan. “It was raining, quite fiercely. You turned to look at me and there was so much love in your eyes. Do you remember what you said, my love? Do you remember what you asked me?”

“Jonathan!” Ilona shouted, her fury barely contained. “I gave you an order!”

“You asked me to marry you,” I continued, desperate. Jonathan had stiffened at her words, and I feared that I had mere seconds before Ilona killed me and then Abe, herself. I removed my hand from his face, showing him my engagement ring, the rose gold band now splattered with blood. “I had been in such despair for so long. You brought me out of it. You made me feel happiness again. What did I say? What did I say, Jonathan William Harker?”

I used his full name in the hope that it would ignite his memory, but his eyes remained foggy and distant. Tears blurred my vision, and something broke inside of me. I felt a cold numbness as I dropped my hands to my sides, taking a step back from him.

I was too late. I had lost someone else I loved to these monsters.

“Now, lubirea mea,” Ilona said, and I could hear the smile in her voice—the blaze of triumph. “Kill her now.”

As Jonathan’s hands lifted towards me, I realized that I had no fight left in me. I simply closed my eyes.

“NO!” Abe shouted from behind me. Yet he did not move, and I realized that Ilona must have put him into a thrall.

But when Jonathan’s hands came to rest at the base of my throat, they were gentle. They slid up to cup my face, and my eyes flew open in surprise, rising to meet his.

It was like watching storm clouds lift to reveal the brilliance of the sun. The fog was gone, and the clear hazel eyes that peered down at me were those of the Jonathan I knew.

“You said yes,” Jonathan’s voice was strangled and weak, but it was his voice, the one I remembered and loved. My heart leapt in my chest with joy. “Mina. Oh God, Mina,” he whispered tremulously.

The coldness disappeared, and my hands flew up to grasp his.

“I’ve come for you,” I whispered, smiling through my tears. “I’ve come to take you home.”

“Jonathan!” Ilona’s voice shot out with the force of a cannon, her smug melodiousness gone. Jonathan stiffened and whirled to face her, remaining protectively in front of me as she moved away from the balcony and into the chamber.

“Have you forgotten what I showed you? What you saw in your own mind? She has betrayed you! She has brought her lover with her to kill you. Do not let her betray you once more!”

Jonathan’s eyes locked with hers, and once again, I saw a haze of uncertainty and disorientation descend. I had to get him out of here, away from her.

As I stepped past Jonathan to charge towards her, I was flung back against the wall next to Abe, paralyzed. Ilona was on me at once, both her hands on the sides of my head, on the verge of snapping my neck. But she was abruptly hurled off of me, flying through the air to land on the opposite side of the chamber. Abe and I were immediately released from our paralysis, looking up in astonishment as we crumpled to the floor.

Jonathan had thrown her off of me. He now stood opposite us, looking down at his hands as he took in deep ragged breaths, amazed by his own strength.

Across the chamber, Ilona looked stunned as well, but I did not give her a change to gather her bearings. I shot to my feet, hurling my wooden stake directly at her heart. She dodged, and it landed in the side of her neck instead, followed by Abe’s knife in the center of her chest, mere inches from her heart.

The blows were not fatal, but dark crimson blood seeped from her wounds, and she grimaced in pain, her face paling even more as she yanked out the stake and knife from the bleeding wounds.

Abe and I dashed towards her, my kukri already angled to slice off her head, Abe’s knife outstretched to sink into her heart, but she stumbled to her feet and towards the balcony, leaping off the edge before we could reach her.

Abe and I raced to the balcony, peering over the edge. The crevasse below was a sheer drop, leading to a rocky embankment. There was no sign of her below. She’d vanished.

“Mina.”

I whirled. Jonathan stood in the center of the bedchamber, still pale and shaken, but looking more like himself. His expression was haunted, as if he had just awoken from a terrible nightmare.

I hurried towards him, and his arms went around me as he buried his face in my hair, his thin shoulders trembling with sobs.

“Oh God, Mina. I thought I was dead. She did something to my mind. I could not see what was real and what was false. It was as if I was trapped in my own mind,” Jonathan whispered brokenly.

“It’s all right,” I said, holding him as I fought back my own tears. “You are safe now. You have my word.”

“Mina, Jonathan,” Abe’s voice came from behind us, and we turned.

Abe hovered by the doorway, his face grave. “As long as we are in this fortress, we are still in danger. We need to leave.”

“Stay behind me,” I said to Jonathan, gripping his hand in mine. He nodded, and we made our way out of the bedchamber.

Abe stayed several paces ahead of us as we hurried down the corridor and back down the winding stairs. Anara was still waiting further down the stairs, a group of ferals now dead at her feet.

“More tried to attack. I held them off,” she said calmly. Her eyes briefly strayed to Jonathan, and I was surprised to see that there was a flicker of relief in her eyes at the sight of him. “Get to the postern gate. Radu and the others are still fighting Vlad and his creatures in the great hall and the courtyard. You must leave while they are still distracted.”

She flanked us as we continued down the stairs. Once we reached the base, I could hear the furor of rapid movement as the vampires continued to fight in the great hall.

“Keep moving!” Anara hissed, gesturing towards the far end of the corridor, where I could see a stream of human prisoners hurriedly making their way towards the rear postern gate.

I clutched Jonathan’s hand as we obliged her, hurrying down the corridor to join the stream of dazed and terrified humans as they fled out the gate.

I spotted Gabriel, Seward, Nikolaus, and Kudret standing at the doorway of the gate, directing the released prisoners out of the fortress. When Gabriel’s eyes met mine, they softened with relief. His eyes drifted to Jonathan, and he gave me a wide smile.

At our side, Abe gestured for Seward to join us. Seward looked weak. His shoulder was bleeding and he moved with a slight limp, but his face was flushed with abject relief as he joined us, turning to take Jonathan in. He met my eyes and gave me the same congratulatory smile that Gabriel had given me, and I grinned in return.

We stepped out of the fortress and into a glaringly bright and sunny day, a stark contrast to the dreary darkness of the fortress’ interior. We made our way down the rugged mountain path that led out of the gates and away from the fortress, down towards a thick patch of forest.

An almost religious silence had fallen over everyone. The prisoners around us looked as if they were still uncertain that their escape was even real. I slowly took them in. There was a young girl, no more than twelve, who moved in a shuffling gait, her arms wrapped securely around herself, her eyes bloodshot with tears. Close to her, a man of about twenty had the look of someone who had once been muscular and robust, but was now thin and frail, his skin pulled taut over his bones, his eyes dark and haunted. Right next to us, there was a trembling woman whose face was partially deformed, the skin of her right cheek torn and jagged in a crisscross pattern, and there were two open and bleeding wounds in her neck. What horrors had these prisoners suffered? I wondered with a shiver.

I moved closer to Jonathan, my hand steady in his. Whatever horrors they had suffered was over now, and I felt something I had not allowed myself to feel in quite some time. Hope. We would soon be far from this fortress and its evils. Radu would kill Vlad, and hopefully Ilona had not survived her fall. Their evil would die with them. The nightmare could soon be over.

My hope dimmed as I looked around. Why weren’t we being stopped? Vlad had scores of vampires at his command. Were they all fighting Radu and the others, or were they lying in wait somewhere?

Instinctively, I clutched Jonathan’s hand and picked up my pace, wanting to put as much distance between us and the fortress as quickly as possible. But the survivors around us moved at a lethargic pace, still reeling and disoriented from the horrors they had suffered.

As we descended into the dense forest that lined the base of the mountain, I began to relax. During our preparations, Radu had informed us there was an abandoned fortified village several kilometers away from the fortress. There we would all gather before continuing on to the nearby city of Debrecen, where we would meet up with Radu and the others at another one of his homes. I knew my anxiety would dissipate once we arrived safely in the fortified village.

“Something . . . something is not right,” Jonathan whispered suddenly, halting in his tracks. I looked at him, fearful. “Something is near. I can feel it.”

Abe and Seward stopped and turned to face us, the trepidation clear on their faces.

“What do you mean, Jonathan?” I asked, my throat dry.

Before he could reply, screams punctuated the silence. I whirled, watching in dazed horror as small packs of feral vampires lunged out from the surrounding trees, descending onto the helpless prisoners in a frenzied swarm.

Jonathan took charge, dashing ahead and dragging me along with him. Abe and Seward were close on our heels, their weapons out, ready to fight off any attacking vampires. I unearthed my kukri as well, prepared to defend us against any attacks.

But I soon realized that the ferals were not focused on the four of us; their attention was trained on the helpless humans around us. I desperately wanted to stop to help them, but when my steps faltered, Jonathan’s hand tightened over mine.

“There are too many. We must keep running!”

I heeded his warning, and we continued to dash away from the carnage and further into the forest with another small group of humans, until the screams behind us faded into the distance. I searched around for Gabriel, but realized that he was still far behind us at the fortress, and I fervently prayed that he was all right.

It seemed as if we had been running for hours when I spotted the abandoned fortified village up ahead, similar in appearance to the one we had left this morning. Several of our vampire allies, who were dispersed throughout the group of fleeing humans, moved to flank us from the rear as we dashed towards the front gates of the village. They ushered us all inside, shutting the gates behind us.

Once we were inside the gates, Jonathan released my hand, stumbling away from me as he swayed on his feet. I reached out to steady him, but he began to convulse as he stumbled to his knees.

“Jonathan!” I cried, sinking down to my knees to hold him upright. “Jonathan, what—”

“Mina,” he said mournfully, his voice strained and weak once more, his eyes filling with tears. “It is too late.”

And with those words, he collapsed in my arms.

8

Jonathan

Jonathan’s mind was a blank haze; it seemed as if someone had reached into his skull to retrieve all of his thoughts and recollections. Yet he could still feel memories tugging persistently at the edge of his mind, demanding his attention, until they finally began to unfurl like a spool of thread.

He was a small boy, riding the Underground with his father for the first time, his small hand clasping his father’s larger one.

He was a young man, seated next to his weeping mother at his father’s funeral.

He was attending university, seated in the front row of his classroom, his mind buzzing with new ideas as his professor gave a lecture on ancient Greek law.

He was at a society ball, staring at a beautiful young woman who hovered on the edge of the dance floor. He did not recognize her from the eligible women he had been introduced to during the Season, and he found himself unable to keep his eyes off of her. Though there was a sadness in the way she held herself—eyes downcast, shoulders slightly slumped—there was also a lightness that seemed to shine from within her, an incandescence that beckoned him to her side like a siren’s song.

The woman was seated next to him in a carriage. They were riding down Piccadilly, and the rain outside poured down onto the streets with such force that some raindrops made their way into the carriage. Her golden brown eyes were shining with love as she pressed her lips to his. Yes, she was saying. Yes, Jonathan. I will marry you. Happiness like he had never known before exploded in his chest, and he enveloped her in his arms.

He was in the ballroom at the Langham. The woman was in his arms as they danced the waltz. Mina. The woman was Mina. Her presence in his arms felt like home. But he felt a tension in her, a reticence that had grown increasingly familiar. She was hiding something from him, keeping a part of herself hidden when he wanted to know all of her.

He was standing alone now, and Mina stood opposite a man on the outside balcony of the Langham. Van Helsing. She was looking at Van Helsing, pained, and the bond—the love—between them was palpable, even from where he stood. Jealous heat rose in the pit of his stomach at the sight of them.

He was having a row with Mina, turning his back on her, his jealousy too great to heed the pain in her eyes, the shimmer of her tears. And then the ball room was pitch black. A tall man and woman with pale skin and oddly sharp teeth stood in front of him. He was unable to move. From somewhere far away, he heard Mina’s distant voice shouting his name.

He was in a massive carriage, with elegant decorations and plush seating, like a carriage for the nobility of some faraway country on the continent. There were several other passengers seated in the carriage as well. Two men dressed for a ball, and a younger woman in a maid’s uniform, their faces pale and blank with terror. The carriage hurtled through an unfamiliar countryside, lush with forests. Wherever it was, it was not England. He wanted to speak, to cry out, but his lethargy was too great, and he succumbed once more to the dark.

When he awoke, the carriage approached a looming medieval fortress that looked as if it had been carved from the very mountaintop it perched upon, like something out of a ghost story.

He was in a large bedchamber that smelled of musk and age, lying in the center of a four poster bed, unsure of how he had gotten there. Struggling to fight off his fatigue, he tried to sit up, but a woman was suddenly at his side, gently pushing him back down.

It was the tall woman from the Langham. Her eyes were a startling vivid green, her features so fine that they could have been cut from marble. Her hair was a mass of long golden waves, which fanned over him like a breeze as she leaned down close to him. Despite his disorientation, a primal desire stirred within him.

“You smell like oak and honey,” she breathed, touching the side of his face, and he flinched. Her fingers were as cold as death. “You look just like the one I lost so very long ago. You will be mine in all things. My mate. Lubirea mea.”

She smiled, and he jerked away from her, his heart thudding with dread. Her teeth were not human. They were long and sharp, like a wolf’s, and he forebodingly thought of the creatures of folklore . . . vampires.

As soon as he had the thought, she lunged towards his throat in an impossibly fast move, piercing its delicate flesh with those unnatural teeth. He let out a cry of agony at the pain that shot through him from the bite, and a sudden presence invaded his mind. He heard her voice, though her lips were not moving. I am Ilona. There will soon be a new world. You will help us. You will join us.

She was in his mind. He shrank away from her, this dark beauty who could not be human. He opened his mouth to plead with her, to beg her to let him go, but darkness enveloped him.

The hours and days began to intermingle, and he soon lost track of how long he lay there. At some point a man was in the bedchamber, standing over his bed, silently watching him. It was the man from the Langham. Like Ilona, his fine features were sharp and beautiful, but the black eyes were cold. He was asking him questions. Questions about London. When he did not answer, for he could not, his throat dry and his mind foggy, the man whirled towards Ilona, who hovered behind him.

“He needs to be lucid to help us,” he hissed. “I told you not to begin the transformation until he gives us the information we need!”

“There was no need to wait,” Ilona replied. “He has moments of lucidity. His strength will return to him once the transformation is complete.”

“That could take weeks . . . months!” the man roared, taking a threatening step towards Ilona, who did not flinch. “Get the information or I will force it from him.”

From somewhere beneath his numbness, panic flared from the place where he still existed. What information did they want from him? To what end?

The man left, and he was alone with Ilona once more. She asked him about London, and he willfully remained silent, grateful that he was temporarily lucid.

“You need to tell us some things about London, Jonathan, or Vlad will kill you. He has already killed the other men. There are many vacant lodging houses in and around London. You have handled them in the past. We need access to them. We need to know where they are. Do you remember?”

“Why?” he croaked. It hurt to speak, and he had to force the word past his lips.

What other men was she referring to? And then he thought dimly of the other two men in the carriage that had brought him here, and a flicker of panic went through him.

“London will be the place where our new world begins. But we need your help, lubirea mea,” Ilona said. The desperation was gone from her voice now, replaced by a seductive purr.

Jonathan was overcome by horror and revulsion. What was she referring to? What new world? He took in her unnaturally pale skin, the sharp teeth. Vampire, he thought again. Had he gone mad?

“Tell me, love,” Ilona whispered, her cold hand once again on his face, and he shivered with revulsion. “Then you can sleep. I know you are very tired. You need to rest to regain your strength.”

Jonathan looked away from her beautiful face. He may be fading, losing himself, or even going mad, but he would not help them. This new world was not something he would help bring about.

“Never,” he said, and though his voice was faint and weak, the word was firm.

A long silence fell, and Jonathan thought that she had left the room. But when he turned back to look at her, she had gotten to her feet and now stood over him. The look on her face scared him, because it was blank, though her eyes glittered with a quiet rage, and her blood red lips curled into a dangerous smile.

“Very well, my love,” she said, her voice lighter and more musical than usual, like a child taunting a butterfly. “Very well.”

That was when the pain began.

At first, the torment was relegated to his emotions. Ilona could somehow make him see things. He could see his beloved Mina, but she was with Van Helsing, their naked bodies entwined in heated passion. Hot jealousy seared the inside of his chest like acid, and he struggled to close his mind to the images, but they were all he could see. Ilona’s voice was also in his mind, her words a quiet taunt. Your betrothed has betrayed you. She is glad you are gone. She loves this Abraham Van Helsing. You see the truth of my words.

“No,” he croaked aloud, tears rising behind his closed eyelids. “No.”

“Yes,” Ilona whispered.

She was next to him now, curled into him like a lover as he drifted in and out of consciousness, stroking his face, the coldness of her hands now oddly soothing against his feverish skin. “She is with him even now. She is coming to kill you.”

Jonathan pleaded with her to stop, to release his mind, but the torment continued. All of his memories of Mina were tainted, and he could only see her with Van Helsing. They were at the ball at the Langham, kissing passionately, their eyes shining with love for each other. They were in the carriage riding down Piccadilly, pledging to wed. Again and again, they were naked in each other’s arms—loving, hot and rapturous. His Mina telling Van Helsing she was glad he was gone. Jonathan never knew me, not truly. I never loved Jonathan. Only you. How I’ve longed for you. And he was alone here, in this strange place, this fortress of blood and nightmares.

When the images finally stopped, the pain turned physical. He awoke in the grimy cell of a dungeon, his wrists chained to the stone wall behind him. Ilona and Vlad stood opposite him, and in a sudden flash, Vlad was on him, his cold hands on his throat, strangling him until he was certain death was upon him. Vlad released him, allowing him to take in some air before strangling him again, continuing the cycle until Jonathan gasped and pleaded for mercy. When Vlad finally left the dungeon, and he thought his torment was at an end, Ilona was on her knees before him, yanking his neck towards her. She drank from him, her jagged teeth painful against his skin, and he could feel his life drain from him, making him grow even weaker still. They would then leave him alone for hours—days?—and the chains around his wrists grew so tight that his skin began to chafe with blood.

The cycle continued like a macabre dance of death. Vlad strangling him, Ilona draining him, hours of isolation.

“Tell us what we want to know, lubirea mea.”

Ilona’s voice lulled him out of a black sleep. He weakly lifted his head, barely managing to meet her brilliant green eyes. He did not remember why they held him here or what he had done. He just wanted the agony to end.

“I will tell you whatever you want to know,” he whispered. “But please, no more . . .”

His voice broke, and he was weeping. Her arms went around him, and he found himself leaning in to her. She turned his trembling face towards hers. She kissed him, and he numbly returned it, feeling a sudden and intense craving for her. He had been cold and lonely for so long.

He was seated in an enormous library, where maps of London, Europe, and other continents dotted the walls. Ilona was at his side, helping him sit upright. Vlad stood opposite them, watching as Ilona helped him remember, probing his mind. A long time ago, she told him, he used to be a solicitor in London. She slid a map in front of him, urging him to recall specific details. With her guidance, he was able to comb through his memory, pointing out vacant row houses, homes, and estates in and around the city. He signed documents they slid towards him. Some part of himself protested as he gave them the information, but he could not recall why.

Vlad’s cold expression had vanished, transforming to one of eagerness, and he looked to Jonathan like a starved and ravenous beast who had finally been given prey to feast upon.

“You did well,” Ilona said, once Vlad left the room, her beautiful face lit with a wide smile. “You can rest now.”

He was back in the bedchamber, drifting in and out of consciousness. He continued to crave Ilona’s presence, to want her near him. He no longer fought nor flinched when she drank from him, and he eagerly accepted her wrist when she pressed it to his mouth, whispering for him to drink.

In his more lucid moments, he realized with an odd detachment that something was happening to him. He was becoming . . . something. Something better, something greater. Something more. He could no longer recall his past; who he had been before. Occasionally, there were memories of a beautiful woman with golden eyes and black hair, but he did not know who she was, and soon the images of her faded completely from his mind.

And then he was in the great hall. That same vaguely familiar woman was on her knees in front of him. She was shouting at him, her desperation plain.

“It’s me, Mina.”

At her words, something stirred on the edges of his mind. A memory? Of what? But Vlad had his hands on the woman’s neck, squeezing, and some small part of himself protested at the sight. All at once, there were dozens of vampires in the great hall, fighting amongst themselves, and Ilona was dragging him away, and they were once again in the bedchamber where he had spent days and nights drifting in and out of consciousness.

The familiar woman was somehow in the bedchamber with them, pleading with him.

“Jonathan, it’s me! Mina! Your Mina!”

But he could not remember her. His mind was enveloped in a strange fog. Ilona commanded him to kill the woman, and he felt his feet moving forward, but the woman halted him with a memory.

The rainy carriage ride in Piccadilly. He blinked, and the memories which had always been there beneath the fog slowly resurfaced, flooding his mind in a deluge.

Mina. The woman was Mina. His hands were on her soft face as she raised tear filled golden eyes to his, smiling. His beloved Mina.

But Ilona was soon on Mina, on the verge of killing her. He threw Ilona away from her, astonished at his sudden strength.

When he ran with Mina out of the fortress of nightmares, he felt as if he had been torn asunder. There was the Jonathan Harker of London, son of William and Mary Harker, solicitor, fiancé of Mina Murray. And there was this Jonathan. The Jonathan who still craved Ilona’s presence, who possessed great strength and a strange and overwhelming thirst. He struggled to hold onto the former Jonathan, to the man he had been.

Yet as they escaped from that horrible place, everything seemed different. He could smell everything, from the salt tears of the human prisoners to the coppery smell of blood on their skin and clothes. He could hear the sound of a running creek that must have been kilometers away. He could even sense Van Helsing’s anxiety for Mina, along with his obvious love for her. And he could sense an amalgamation of emotions. Rage. Pain. Fear. Desperation. Desire. And the overwhelming scent of blood. A scent he recognized from Vlad and Ilona. Vampires.

They ran, and once they were in the safety of the fortified village, the overwhelming weakness he had been battling took over his body. He now knew that he had been transformed during his captivity. He was now vampire. A monster.

He sank to his knees and whispered his goodbye to Mina, his beloved, and as soon as the words slid past his lips . . . there was nothing.

9

The Ceremony

“His human body is dying.”

Gabriel’s words reverberated throughout the kitchen like a cannon shot. I closed my eyes, leaning back to support myself against the rickety table behind me, unable to stifle a strangled sob. Abe and Seward were silent, but I could sense their horror from their stricken expressions. I was too late, I thought hollowly. I failed.

After Jonathan collapsed, Abe and Seward carried him into the bedroom of a nearby empty cottage. There, he drifted in and out of consciousness while whispering about the terrifying details of his imprisonment—mental and physical torture in a dungeon, a beautiful woman draining him of his blood, her words enslaving his mind—and I had to urge him to be silent, to save his strength.

Gabriel entered moments later, and I hovered anxiously as Gabriel and Abe examined him, exchanging grave looks. Gabriel led me out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where he delivered his pronouncement.

Now, I remained stiff with shock as Gabriel continued. “He has lost a great deal of blood. He’s begun the transformation. His human body will soon die, and he will become vampire.”

“No,” I rasped, wildly shaking my head as I opened my eyes, now awash with tears. I had no doubt that Ilona had given Jonathan her blood. If the transformation was still affecting Jonathan, Ilona had survived her fall and was still alive. “We can still stop it. We must stop it. We . . . we can kill his maker,” I added, recalling Greta’s observations back in Amsterdam. “That could stop the transformation from taking hold.”

“It is possible to stop it,” Gabriel agreed, after a hesitant pause. “But we would have to find Ilona quickly and kill her. Otherwise, the transformation will be permanent.”

“Will giving him human blood stave off the transformation?” Abe asked. “I have the equipment to perform a transfusion.”

“Yes,” Gabriel replied. “But not indefinitely. The only way to stop it completely is to find Ilona and kill her.”

“I can give blood for the transfusion,” I said, determination rising beneath my despair. But I still felt a surge of frustration as I recalled how close I had been to killing Ilona. If only I had succeeded. . .

“Mina, it took some time for you to get to Vlad and Ilona,” Gabriel said delicately. “It could take us even more time to hunt them down again, now that they know we’re looking for them.”

“Then we must move quickly. Ilona supplied him with her blood,” I said, shuddering at the thought. “They must be linked, as Lucy was linked to the one who transformed her. We can track her through Jonathan.”

“If her brother survived the attack on the fortress, it’s likely she went to join him,” Seward said. “We won’t know if Vlad’s been killed until we meet Radu and the others in Debrecen. We need to consider where Vlad and Ilona would go.”

I realized with consternation that if they had both survived, they could be anywhere in Europe by now. Anywhere in the world. If Jonathan were unable to track her, we would lose them both.

“To . . . to London.”

The voice was raspy and weak, and it came from behind us. We all whirled in surprise.

Jonathan leaned heavily against the doorway of the bedroom, struggling to hold himself upright. Worried, I hurried towards him.

“You need to be lying down. You need rest,” I said gently, taking his arm and guiding him back into the bedroom. He reluctantly settled back down in the small bed, but intently held my eyes.

“Vlad and Ilona would go to London. They are going to London,” he repeated, as the others entered the bedroom. “My memory is shaky, but I do remember that they asked me a great deal about London. They made me point out vacant row houses and estates in and around the city,” he added, his voice dropping with shame.

The room fell silent at his words. Abe had correctly surmised that Vlad was planning to launch his attack from London. It was an ideal location, teeming with millions unaware of the coming danger. I set my rising panic aside, placing my hands on the sides of Jonathan’s feverish face.

“Let us concern ourselves with Vlad and Ilona. You’ve been through enough.”

Jonathan’s gaze strayed to the men, seeming to hold on Abe.

“Please leave us. I wish to talk to Mina alone.”

The men obliged, though I felt Abe’s lingering look as he turned to leave. Once we were alone, Jonathan reached up for my hands, linking his cold fingers with mine as he pressed his trembling lips to my knuckles in a kiss. I blinked back tears as I took in the pallor of his skin, the bruises on this throat. What torment had he undergone in that fortress? If only I had gotten to him sooner.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

“You’re apologizing?” Jonathan breathed, his hazel eyes meeting mine in abject disbelief. “You owe me no such thing. You put yourself in great danger to rescue me. That woman—that creature—did something to my mind. My thoughts were not my own. Had I been kept there any longer, I would have been lost forever.”

He reached out to pull me into his arms, lovingly stroking my hair. We sat still in each other’s arms for a long moment; the only sound in the room my ragged breaths and his faint ones. He is here with me now, I assured myself. I had rescued him from those monsters, and I would stop the transformation from taking hold. I had to. I blinked back more tears, tightening my grip around him, as if to prevent him from being taken once again.

“I remember being at the Langham, and then in a carriage. We were traveling through the countryside, and then I was—” he haltingly began.

“Jonathan, no. You have just been through a great ordeal. You do not have to tell me about it now,” I protested, recalling his delirious whispers about his imprisonment with a shudder.

“I–I want to. I fear it is the only way to purge the memories from my mind. And it could help you,” he replied.

I had to force myself to remain stoic as he told me what he recalled of his time with Vlad and Ilona. The other two male vampires who had come to the Langham with Vlad and Ilona were loyal followers of Vlad, but he never saw them while he was imprisoned in the fortress. He had lost track of the women who had also been abducted, nor did he have any contact with the other prisoners. He had been kept in a bedchamber away from anyone else. He did confirm that Vlad had killed the other two men kidnapped from the ball, and I surmised that the young maid had not survived as well—we hadn’t seen her amongst any of the prisoners.

I stifled my jealousy as he told me of Ilona’s attentions and her obvious desire for him. I realized that Jonathan had been abducted not only for his knowledge of vacant housing in London, but because of Ilona’s apparent obsession with him, and that was likely the reason Vlad had not killed him. She wanted him as her mate.

When he was finished, he looked thoroughly unsettled. I moved closer to him, wrapping my arms around him and holding him close.

“You are safe from her now,” I whispered. “I promise.”

“I know that this is not an illness,” he said, after a long stretch of silence. “What I saw in that fortress . . . I would not have believed if I didn’t see it with my own two eyes. I–I know what is happening to me. I–I am changing. Becoming like those monsters. Vampires,” he concluded with a whisper.

“No,” I said fervently, pulling back to hold his stricken gaze. “I will not let that happen. I’m going to kill the creature who did this to you. It’ll stop the transformation from taking hold.”

“I am very weak, Mina. Even if you do kill her, I do not know how much longer I have. My mind is still not my own, and I fear I am losing myself as I become this . . . this creature. If I should die, or lose myself, what I would regret most in the world is that we were never wed.”

“You will not lose yourself, and you will not die,” I insisted. “Stop this talk, Jonathan. Try to rest, and we’ll—”

“You must listen to me,” Jonathan interrupted, his voice strained with both fatigue and urgency. “It is already happening. I was a shadow of myself. You have brought me back, but I fear it is only temporary. I feel as if my grip on sanity is slipping, and my love for you is my only anchor,” he added, his eyes glistening with tears. “While I am still lucid, while I am still Jonathan Harker, my only desire is to marry you, my darling.”

“And we will,” I said, my uneasiness growing at the graveness of his words, the finality in his voice. “As soon as we return to England, we’ll—”

“I do not know if my mind will hold that long. Will you marry me today, Mina? Here?”

His pained eyes met mine, shimmering with tears of hope and anguish. He truly thinks he will not survive, I thought with horror. Did he not know that I would do everything in my power to prevent that from happening? Had I not traveled across Europe to rescue him?

I opened my mouth to protest, but stopped myself when I took in the desolation in his eyes. He had gone through great agony at the hands of those monsters. How could I deny him this? We were already pledged to wed. If I could provide him with some light, some hope, then I should do so. Ignoring the brief flare of uncertainty that flared in my chest, I leaned forward to press my lips against his.

“Yes, Jonathan,” I whispered against his mouth. “I will marry you today.”

* * *

After Jonathan fell into a fitful sleep, I left the house to enter the small church in the central square, where most of the others had gathered. I pulled Gabriel, Abe and Seward aside to tell them of Jonathan’s desire to wed me here in Transylvania. Abe stiffened, but remained silent, while Seward and Gabriel looked worried and confused.

“There’s no time,” Seward protested. “We leave early tomorrow for Debrecen—we still don’t know what happened to the others. We’re not even sure it’s safe to stay in this village for the night.”

“Jonathan is very weak,” Gabriel added, frowning. “He still needs a transfusion and some recovery time afterwards. Haven’t you been betrothed for some time? Why the urgency?”

“He worries he will not survive much longer. I’m unable to convince him otherwise. He has gone through such torment at the hands of those monsters. I know the timing is not practical, but I want to do this for him.”

“Then you should wed,” Abe spoke up, his eyes shuttered and unreadable as he stepped forward.

“I can perform the transfusion now. He can rest for the remainder of the day, and you can wed tonight.”

“Thank . . . thank you,” I said with hesitation, a strange heaviness pressing down on my chest at his words.

“I will begin preparations,” Abe said, not meeting my eyes, as he turned to leave the church. Seward hurried after him to help, and I was left alone with Gabriel.

“I’ll have the other vampires patrol the outskirts of the village,” Gabriel said. “If it’s not safe, or they scent ferals, we cannot stay here, Mina. The ceremony will have to be postponed.”

“All right,” I said reluctantly. “But I do not wish to delay the ceremony any later than Debrecen. I want to ease Jonathan’s anxiety.”

“Is this what you want, Mina?” Gabriel asked, his silver eyes probing mine. “To be wed under these circumstances?”

“What I want is those monsters and their followers destroyed,” I shortly replied. “But I have failed in both those undertakings. This is the least I can do for my fiancé.”

I headed back to the cottage, where Abe was preparing a now sedated Jonathan for the transfusion with Seward’s help. Abe only spoke to give me instructions, and I rolled up my sleeve, holding still while he extracted blood from my veins.

“We must allow him to sleep,” Abe said, getting to his feet once he had completed the transfusion. His tone was brusque, and he was still not looking at me. “We will see how he is functioning after he wakes. If all is well, you can wed tonight.”

They left me alone with Jonathan, and I approached his bedside. He was in the deep throes of sleep, and I could see that the transfusion had already restored some of his color. I pressed a kiss to his forehead, tenderly brushing his sweat-dampened hair back from his face, before leaving him to his slumber.

The remainder of the day went by swiftly. I learned from Gabriel that the vampires patrolling the exterior of the village had not sensed any ferals in the forest, so it was safe for us to remain until our departure the next day. There was still no sighting of Radu and the others. Nikolaus and Kudret had bravely ventured back to the outskirts of the fortress and found it to be completely abandoned. I prayed that Radu had been successful in killing Vlad, and that we only had Ilona to focus on.

As the day wore on, I studied the other released prisoners. They were young and old, male and female. From their clothing, I could tell that most of them were villagers from the surrounding countryside, while some wore fashionable city clothing. Seward moved through the village, in full inspector mode, questioning many of them, while Abe performed cursory exams on others. A small group of older men and women sat huddled in a corner of the village, whispering amongst themselves, likely recounting their ordeal. Some still looked shaken, roaming absently around the central square, staring at nothing. Others had thrown themselves into the practical task of preparing a meal of bread and salted meats they found in storage cells along the fortress walls, and searching the long-untended gardens for edible vegetables. No matter what their state, they all seemed to be coming back to life, as if realizing that their liberation from the fortress was real, and they were truly free of the monsters who had tortured and imprisoned them.

One of the men seemed to sense my curiosity and approached to tell me his story. He had left his small village on foot to head into town to purchase food from the markets. He had heard rumors of strange happenings in the forests, but had assumed they were mere nonsense and superstition.

“Wolf attacks. No more than that, I thought,” he said, bitterness edging his words. “I had a weapon—I could keep wolves away.”

“What happened?” I asked. “The night you were taken?

“I felt . . . a cold. Snow on my skin. Three men surrounded me. No, not men. Monsters. Devils. Could tell they weren’t human by the looks of them. Was going to use my axe on them, but they were fast. Strong. One of them, he got me, here,” he said with a shudder, and I could see the scar on his neck. “I thought—I thought I’d be dead. I came to in a dungeon. All manner of people. Women, men, even some young. The monsters gave us bread once a day to eat. Every day, they’d take someone. We’d never see ‘em again. Thought they were killing ‘em. Found out later they were changing ‘em. Making them into monsters. With blood.”

I closed my eyes with a shudder. Though it had been confirmed through my own eyes that Vlad was building an army, it was still chilling to hear the words out loud.

“If you and your friends hadn’t come, none of us would’ve lived,” the man said, his eyes meeting mine. “Thank you for what you’ve done.”

I nodded, not meeting his eyes. He was right. No one would have survived in that fortress had we not come. But had I believed those villagers several years ago, perhaps none of this would have happened.

Jonathan awoke as evening fell and gave me a small smile, looking more like himself. Abe examined him and confirmed that he was well enough to take part in a ceremony. I embraced Jonathan and told him to get more rest, and left to approach Elisabeta, the only other human woman I was acquainted with here, who had survived the fortress attack relatively unscathed.

I explained that Jonathan and I wished to be wed here, and asked if she would be willing to help me prepare for a small wedding ceremony. I braced myself for a response of disbelief, even anger, but her eyes misted over with tears, and she pulled me into her arms in a spontaneous embrace.

“Mina,” she murmured. “There been much evil. We need something happy. Weddings bring joy. I talk with others. They happy to help.”

Elisabeta recruited several other women, and to my surprise, their eyes also lit up at the prospect of a nighttime wedding ceremony. I handed over my traveling bag, and they went through my few items of clothing until they settled on the best dress I had brought with me, a traveling dress of deep blue silk that would serve as my makeshift wedding gown. Elisabeta bravely ventured into the surrounding forest with a vampire escort, returning with bunches of white wildflowers that would be wound throughout my hair and serve as a bouquet. They adorned the church with various candles, and one of the women miraculously found a chaplain amongst the human survivors, who happily agreed to perform the ceremony. I was so overwhelmed at the lengths Elisabeta had gone to help me, my eyes filled with tears as I thanked her.

“You save lives of many here. Happy to help you wed your Jonathan.”

She ushered me to an empty cottage, where I dressed. I opted to leave my hair down, and carefully wound the wildflowers throughout my hair. I took in my reflection in an old cracked mirror propped against the wall. I had assumed that our wedding would take place in a church in one of the more fashionable neighborhoods of London, filled with guests astonished at the fact that Jonathan was actually going through with wedding the scandalous Robert Murray’s daughter, their spurious smiles shielding their disapproval.

I studied my shadowed eyes and bruised throat in the mirror. I looked more like a battle survivor than a bride. Doubt flickered through me, a feeling that went beyond my unease about the rushed circumstances in which I was getting married.

“You love Jonathan?” Elisabeta asked, entering the room behind me, her gaze sweeping over my troubled features with concern.

“Of course,” I replied, sounding more cross than I intended.

“You wear dark look. Not look of bride,” Elisabeta said, hesitant.

“These are hardly ideal circumstances,” I said stiffly. “I want to marry him when he’s well, and those creatures destroyed.”

“Put dark thoughts away. My wedding the best day of my life,” Elisabeta urged. “My husband, I knew him when we children. We grew up together. He my love,” she whispered, her voice breaking. She closed her eyes briefly and gave me an apologetic smile. “I not talk of such things on your wedding.”

“No,” I said gently, reaching out to touch her hand briefly. “You can tell me about him.”

She hesitated for a moment, before continuing, “There was an attack on our village. The strigoi came in the night. Me and my Luca ran. We were holding hands. I held onto his hand very tight. But his hand, it fell from mine. A strigoi leapt on me, almost tore out throat. Luca moved him off me. Told me, ‘Run, Elisabeta’. I could not do it—I could not run. But he begged . . . even as that monster tore into him, he begged.” Her eyes filled with a fresh wave of tears. “So, I run. I run and found place in forest to hide. When I come back, Luca—his body was—”

She dissolved into sobs and I moved forward to envelop her in my arms, overcome with a wave of sympathy.

“Elisabeta, I am so sorry,” I whispered, feeling another swell of rage for the creatures who had left so much despair in their wake. “I am so very sorry.”

Elisabeta’s sobs subsided and she pulled back, looking embarrassed as she wiped her eyes.

“You have chance to be happy,” she whispered, finally meeting my eyes. “Take it.”

“I will,” I promised fervently, pushing my lingering unease aside. “Thank you, Elisabeta. For all you’ve done.”

“No thanking me,” she said, stepping back. “Go. Wed your Jonathan.”

When I left the cottage, I saw that the dozens of humans who had escaped with us from the fortress were now gathered around the church. They turned to face me as I stepped out of the cottage, their faces lit with smiles as I approached, and I realized that Elisabeta was right. These people had experienced so much tragedy. They needed to witness something joyous.

I returned their smiles as I moved towards the open doors of the church, where Gabriel and Seward stood waiting. I looked around, but Abe was nowhere to be seen. Gabriel gave me a tentative smile, stepping forward to extend his arm. A sudden and swift pang of longing for my father pierced me. How I wished that he were here for this moment. I set aside the longing, taking Gabriel’s arm, feeling a surprising amount of gratitude for his presence. I gave Seward a brief nod, which he returned with a smile, and entered the church.

I gasped. The plain interior of the church had been transformed. It was lit by dozens of candles, giving it the appearance of a chappelle ardente. The pews had even been strung with the same wildflowers I wore in my hair, and they were also scattered about the scratched wooden floors.

Jonathan stood in front of the altar next to the beaming chaplain, wearing a new black sack coat, paired with a vest and trousers that I suspected had been loaned from Seward or Gabriel. He still looked pale and slightly weak, but his smile was radiant, and his eyes shone with love. As I met his eyes, a familiar warmth spread through me. This is the man I have chosen, I told myself as I suppressed my fretfulness. This is the man I’ll spend my life with.

When we reached the altar, Gabriel stepped back and Jonathan grasped my hands firmly in his. The others filed in, taking their seats in the pews and crowding the aisles, reverently silent. Jonathan and I held each other’s eyes as the chaplain began the ceremony. Our vows were brief and when the chaplain declared us man and wife, Jonathan pulled me close, resting his forehead against mine.

“Mina Harker,” he whispered tremulously. “My darling. My life.”

He leaned down to kiss me, but froze, and abruptly jerked back from me. I watched in stunned horror as the whites of his eyes turned completely black. His hands shot out to wrap around my throat, squeezing with tremendous force, and amidst terrified screams and shouts, I slipped from consciousness.

10

A Dangerous Idea

“He tried to kill her!”

Abe’s furious words roused me from my sleep, and I opened my eyes. I was lying in the same bedroom where Jonathan had recovered after his collapse. The door was closed, but I could hear Abe’s voice clearly from the kitchen.

“If you had not stopped him—” Abe continued, his voice rising in anger.

“He stopped himself,” Gabriel interjected. “That’s why he asked to be placed under guard. You saw how horrified he was at what he’d done. The transformation has altered his mind.”

I groggily sat up, their words igniting my memories of what happened the night before. I was still wearing my makeshift wedding dress, and the wildflowers were still wound throughout my hair. I recalled the church decorated with candles and wildflowers, Jonathan’s hazel eyes shining with love, those same eyes turning black, and . . .

My hands flew to my throat at the memory. It seemed like something out of a nightmare, but the bruising around my throat confirmed that what happened was terrifyingly real.

“We need to separate Jonathan and Mina until we kill Vlad and Ilona, but they are not to be a part of this,” Abe was saying now. “We can find them safe places to hide when we return to London. The three of us and whoever else is willing to help, can then focus on killing those creatures.”

I abruptly got out of bed at his words, crossing the room to yank open the door and marching out. Gabriel and Abe were facing off in the center of the small kitchen, while Seward warily leaned against the table behind them. They all turned to faced me as I entered the room.

“I heard everything. What happened last night changes nothing, Abe,” I said sharply, glaring at him. “I will not stand aside while you finish the fight I started. Surely, you must know that? Where is Jonathan?”

“He’s alone in another cottage, guarded by two vampires—by his own request. He fears he will try to harm you again,” Gabriel said gently, taking a concerned step towards me. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Yes,” I said, with great difficulty, as I recalled Jonathan’s black eyes in the chapel. “But I know it was not Jonathan who harmed me. Not truly. It’s the transformation—and whatever Ilona’s done to his mind. We saw the same thing in Lucy Holmwood.”

“Your husband,” Abe said, practically spitting the word as he advanced towards me, “did not merely harm you. He nearly strangled you to death, and barely stopped himself in time. It is not safe for you to be alone with him. If we do not get to Ilona soon—”

“We will,” I interrupted sharply. “We’re leaving today, are we not? Once we meet up with the others, we can take the Orient Express back to England. That will get us to London quickly. Now, I want to see Jonathan.”

“Mina, Jonathan’s not—” Seward began, shaking his head.

“I will arm myself and fight him if I must, but I do not think that’ll be necessary. I brought him back to himself in the fortress. I can help keep his mind at ease. Isolating him is not going to help,” I said, turning to head towards the door. I wasn’t going to wait for their permission. “I’m going to see my husband.”

Abe and Seward didn’t follow or try to stop me, but Gabriel hurried after me, reluctantly leading me towards a lone cottage on the far edge of the village square, where the vampire Nikolaus stood guard. He stiffened in surprise at my approach, but after a look from Gabriel, he stepped aside.

“Take this. Please,” Gabriel said, removing one of my kukri knives from his pocket and handing it to me. I hesitated, but the look in his eyes broached no argument. I grudgingly took it before we both entered the cottage.

My heart broke at the sight that greeted us. Jonathan sat on the scratched wooden floor of the barren cottage, his face buried in his hands, his shoulders drooped with misery. I turned, gesturing for Gabriel to leave us, and after a moment of hesitation, he obliged.

“Stay away from me,” Jonathan said once we were alone, without looking up. “I fear I will hurt you again.”

“I will do no such thing,” I said, taking a tentative step towards him. “We are husband and wife now. We’ll fight this together.”

“I–I do not know what happened,” Jonathan said brokenly, finally looking up at me with anguished eyes. “I was fully myself, and so very happy. But the images she put in my mind of you and Van Helsing . . . I kept seeing them, and my hands—”

“You must fight, Jonathan. Use that same strength you had in the fortress to hold on to your mind,” I urged, taking another step forward.

He shot to his feet, backing away from me, holding out his hands to indicate that I should come no further.

“I can sense everything now—even emotions. It is agony,” he said brokenly. “I can even sense your love for him.”

“Have I not traveled across Europe to save you? Does that not prove the depth of my love for you?” I demanded, feeling the growing weight of despair in my chest. “Did I not marry you last night?”

“I do not doubt your love for me,” Jonathan said, with a sad smile. “But I know you love him as well. I–I suspected it that night at the ball, but I can truly sense it now. Do you deny it?”

I hesitated. I now knew that my love for Abe had never completely dissipated. Jonathan deserved my honesty.

“No,” I said finally, and he blanched, but I boldly stepped forward until I was within reach of him, gripping his arms. “But our relationship has long been over. You are the one I married, Jonathan. You are the one I risked my life to save.”

“I know,” Jonathan whispered, turning away from me and closing his eyes. He pressed his fingers to his lids, as if he wanted to physically suppress whatever he was seeing in his mind’s eye. “But I need you to stay away from me.”

“Jonathan,” I pleaded, tears springing to my eyes. “This is not you. We vowed just last night to—”

“I need you to stay away because I love you,” he said raggedly, still not looking at me. “I am not the same man I was. I will soon be a monster. I never should have made you marry me.”

“You did not make me marry you!” I cried. “We were already engaged. I wanted to marry you! Don’t let what that monster has done to your mind control you. I will kill her, you will be healed, and we will live as husband and wife—as we intended before any of this happened.”

“I need time,” Jonathan said, after a long pause, taking another step away from me. “Until—and if—you kill Ilona, and my mind returns to me, it is best that we remain apart. And . . . and I need Van Helsing to stay away from me as well.”

I stared at him in disbelief, but by the rigidity of his body and the set of his jaw, I could tell that he meant every word. I tried to move closer to him, but he took several steps back until he was against the wall, holding up his hands to impede my approach.

“Am I to be punished for having a past before you? For loving him before you?” I demanded incredulously. “We have just wed. I will not allow you to give up on us.”

“You have no choice,” Jonathan said, meeting my eyes with a coldness that I had never seen in him before. “This is not a punishment. It is for your safety, Mina.”

He abruptly moved past me, keeping his distance as he moved to the door to swing it open. I looked at him, pleading with my eyes, but his expression was rigid.

Furious, I stalked past him to leave the cottage. I kept walking until I found another nearby empty cottage, entering and closing the door behind me.

I slid to the floor, wrapping my arms around my body as I allowed my despair to take hold, and I began to weep.

* * *

When we departed two hours later, I had managed to compose myself, and my face was a stoic mask as I rode out of the village alongside Gabriel, Abe, and Seward. Jonathan rode ahead with Nikolaus and Kudret, not sparing me a glance, and a stab of pain pierced me at his blatant disregard.

After my row with Jonathan, Abe, Gabriel and Seward’s curious gazes followed me when I returned to the cottage to change and pack my bag; but I said nothing to them. Jonathan and I were married now, and I was determined to keep our discord between us. I could only hope that he would come to his senses during the journey back to London.

We encountered nothing out of the ordinary during our short journey to Debrecen, but this made me feel unsettled. Since our violent departure from the fortress, there had been no new attacks, and I knew that Vlad had scores of followers in Transylvania. Where had they all gone?

I set aside the disturbing thought as we arrived in Debrecen. With its colorful homes, baroque style buildings and medieval cobblestoned streets, it reminded me of a smaller and more intimate version of Budapest.

We separated from the released humans once we were safely in the boundaries of the city. Some had family in Debrecen, while others were heading to Budapest and other nearby cities. Elisabeta gave me a warm embrace before departing with the others, and I urged her to be safe.

The remaining group consisted of me, Gabriel, Abe, Seward, Jonathan, and four of our vampire allies—including Nikolaus and Kudret. We continued towards the stables near Debrecen’s central square, where we left our horses. Gabriel led us to Radu’s nearby home, which was a near replica of the one he owned in Budapest, with a yellow stucco façade and surrounded by tall iron gates.

“Radu?” Gabriel called out as we entered, trailing him down the narrow entrance hall. “Anara?”

He was met with silence, and dread stirred in the pit of my stomach. We followed Gabriel into the drawing room, where Anara, Szabina, and five more of our vampire allies that I recognized from Szabina’s village were gathered. The looks on their faces ranged from shock, to grief, to despair. Anara and Szabina were seated on two plush chairs opposite the fireplace, and they barely acknowledged us as we entered the room. My sense of dread increased when I noticed that Radu was not seated amongst them.

“Anara?” Gabriel asked, his voice quivering. “Where . . . where is Radu?”

When Anara looked up, I saw her eyes were filled with a sheen of blood tears. She did not need to speak for us to know of Radu’s fate.

“No,” Gabriel whispered.

Around me, the others gasped and let out strangled sobs of grief. Seward paled, and Abe leaned back heavily against the wall, burying his face in his hands.

Though I had only known Radu briefly, my chest became heavy with my own grief for the creature who had displayed such kindness and empathy towards us. But beneath my grief, I felt a pang of guilt. If we had never come to him in Budapest, he would still be alive.

“What happened?” I asked, dreading the answer.

“We were surrounded by Vlad’s followers in the great hall,” Szabina replied. “Radu saved us. He led Vlad and his followers out to the courtyard. He knew he was the main focus. We tried to go after him, but a group of ferals attacked us.”

“I almost made it to him,” Anara spoke up, her voice strained, blood tears streaking down her face. “I managed to get to the courtyard, where Radu and Vlad were fighting. But before I could approach, that traitor Matyas held me down. He made me watch Radu and Vlad fight. I thought Radu would be able to overpower his son, but I underestimated how deep Vlad’s hatred runs for his father. I was helpless. I could do nothing,” Anara faltered, pressing her hand to her mouth. Szabina reached out to place her hand on Anara’s shoulder.

At the mention of Matyas’ name, Gabriel and I exchanged a dark look as we realized that the creature who had killed our mother was still alive.

“Vlad tore out Radu’s throat,” Szabina whispered with great difficulty. Anara buried her face in her hands, as if she were trying to block out the images of Szabina’s words. “Then he ripped out his heart while it still pumped.”

“The pain in my father’s eyes,” Anara rasped, her voice heavy with tears. “As he looked at his own son . . . dying at his hands . . . I will never forget it. I screamed. I cannot recall what happened afterwards. I know Matyas released me, and Vlad fled the fortress, taking his remaining followers with him. We buried Radu at the fortress. After this is all over, and I kill his monstrous children, I will bury him next to his Ludmila. ”

My own tears swelled, temporarily blurring my vision. I could tell that Radu had loved his son, even though he knew what a monster he was. What agony it must have been to die at his hands. He had not deserved such a death.

“We captured several of his ferals to find out where Vlad went,” Szabina said. “But their minds are closed to us.”

“We know where he is.”

It was Jonathan who spoke up. He had been standing in the back of our group, hovering by the doorway, but he now moved to the front.

“I am in the process of transformation. I am linked to Ilona through her blood. You can use me to track her. They are in London, I am quite certain of it.”

“Then we must make haste,” Anara said, wiping at her eyes and shooting to her feet in a rapid move. “We must leave at once.”

“We cannot be rash, Anara,” Szabina said gently. “We planned for the attack on the fortress, and still lost our leader and many of our own. Vlad and his sister know that we are after them. They will have many more of their followers in London.”

“Then we assemble various groups,” Anara swiftly rejoined. “We can send a wire to allies of Radu to help us—I know they are still out there. They will join us.”

“We can’t just go to London,” Seward said, frowning. “A group of bloody vampires entering the city en masse for a battle will cause such panic that—”

“I do not care about the human population!” Anara cried. “They will soon all be very aware of our existence if Vlad even partially succeeds. It was only a matter of time before our war bled into your world.”

“We do not have the numbers, nor do we have time to organize and recruit more allies,” Abe added, rubbing his temples.

“Then what do you propose?” Anara demanded. “The longer we wait to attack, the more difficult it will be to locate them. They may not even remain in London.”

In the space of silence that followed, an idea took root in my mind. It was a relatively simple solution, but terrifying and dangerous. The best ideas are the dangerous ones, Father had once told me. Always. Mister Darwin did not release On the Origin of Species for years because he knew it contained the most dangerous ideas. And look at what happened when he published it. He changed the world.

My idea, though risky, could possibly save the world. I moved forward until I was in the center of the room.

“We need to set a trap,” I said. “I agree that we should not confront them in London—too many human lives would be at risk. We need to lure them away from London rather than pursue them like we did before. Jonathan, you pointed out vacant estates in and around London to Vlad. Is there an estate outside of London where we can meet them? Somewhere relatively isolated?”

“There is a vacant estate in Purfleet, called Carfax,” Jonathan said hesitantly, his features taut with worry. “But, Mina—”

“How do you propose we lure them?” Anara interrupted, looking at me with incredulity.

“We give them what they want. I’m the daughter of one of the last human members of the Order of the Dragon. Jonathan and I will convince them that we want to join their side. I’ll swear allegiance to Vlad and vow to destroy the Order from within. When they come to us at the estate in Purfleet, we’ll kill them. Their followers will scatter and the newly infected will die with them.”

“Mina,” Jonathan breathed, shaking his head. “That is not—”

“It has to be us who set the trap, Jonathan. Ilona is obsessed with you. She’s already affected your mind once; it’s not without reason that you’ve fallen sway to her. And Vlad has to be obsessed with destroying the Order; they nearly succeeded in killing him once,” I said.

“It will not work. You’ll never convince them of your defection,” Anara protested. “Vampires can sense deception. Vlad is responsible both directly and indirectly for the deaths of your parents. You won’t be able to conceal your hatred for him. The Order of the Dragon has disbanded. There has not been an organized meeting for years—it’s no longer a threat to Vlad.”

“He thinks it is still a threat. When I confronted him in the fortress, he told me that the Order and I are too late to stop him. As . . . as for my deception,” I continued, bracing myself for the reaction to my next statement. “There’s a very simple way of convincing them I’m telling the truth.”

“What is that?” Anara asked suspiciously, her eyes narrowed.

“I undergo the transformation Jonathan is going through now,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. “I become vampire.”

11

The Blood

The room erupted into a chorus of protests.

“Mina, this is madness!” Abe shouted. “You cannot be serious. You do not know what effect such a transformation will have on you.”

“You cannot put your life at such risk,” Jonathan agreed. “We will find another way.”

“No, Mina,” Gabriel said furiously. “How can you even suggest such a thing?”

“You could die,” Szabina added. “Are you willing to take such a risk?”

“Listen to me, all of you,” I said, raising my voice above the continued protests and murmurs of incredulity. “If we use one of the captured feral vampires to . . . to drain me and feed me their blood, I’ll be connected to Vlad as they are. We have seen with Jonathan—and other humans—that it can take weeks or longer for the transformation to complete. I don’t need to be in the process of transformation for very long, only a day or two, until we confront and kill Vlad and Ilona. We can then kill the feral, and release us both from vampirism. I won’t be able to convince Vlad that I want to join them if I’m not in the process of becoming vampire.”

“Mina,” Abe’s face was still pale with anxiety, “I acknowledge that your plan is a sound one, but there is no guarantee it will work. You heard Szabina. They have not yet been able to communicate with Vlad through the ferals. Why add even more risk to an already precarious enterprise?”

“We have already tried ambushing them,” I replied. “They’re expecting us to do so again, and they’ll be prepared. They won’t expect us to join them. Luring them to us is our best chance of defeating them. Once Vlad and Ilona are dead, their followers will most likely scatter, and the ones who have been recently infected will be released from vampirism as well.”

My words did not seem to reassure Jonathan, Abe, or Gabriel, who still looked worried. But Anara, Szabina, and even Seward, seemed slightly more convinced. The remaining vampires looked dubious.

“The transformation gravely affects your mind,” Szabina said finally. “It affects everyone differently. There is no way to predict how it will affect you. Even if you are under the influence of the Blood for a brief period, you will have to fight for your sanity. You will have to welcome your own darkness without letting it consume you.”

Icy fingers of dread crept up my spine at her words. I thought of what the transformation had done to Lucy and Jonathan. Its effect on me would indeed be unpredictable. But I held firm. I had to look past my fear if I was going to kill Vlad and Ilona.

“I know this comes with great risk . . . and it may not work. But I worry that if we do not stop them in London, it’ll be too late.”

“Mina’s plan is risky, but it may work,” Anara said, turning to address the others. “Our numbers are small, and time is against us, so we must all be in agreement. Are there any dissenters?”

Again, I was surprised that Anara was helping me, even siding with me. It was hard to believe this was the same creature who had nearly killed me on two separate occasions. I could only assume that it was desperation that propelled her—she fiercely wanted Vlad’s death.

“Mina,” Jonathan spoke up, moving towards me, his hazel eyes shot with anxiety. “Szabina is quite right about the effect the transformation has on your mind. Look at what I am going through.”

“It will be temporary,” I insisted, taking his hands. I was relieved that he was speaking to me, and he did not pull away my touch. “For both of us. Once Vlad and Ilona are dead, and we mercifully kill the feral who transformed me, we’ll both be released from vampirism. Many will be released. I believe this is the best way to end this nightmare.”

Jonathan lifted my hands to his, kissing them, and I felt a soothing rush at the feel of his lips on my skin.

“How could I have not known how very brave you are?” he whispered, his face infused with both worry and admiration. “Very well. I will go along with your plan.”

* * *

The feral vampire lunged towards me, barely restrained by the shackles that chained her to the cellar wall. She was petite, with matted red hair and pitch black eyes that were hungrily trained on my throat. Despite her small size, she exuded great strength, and terror flooded me as I made myself stand stock-still.

I was now standing in the cellar, protectively flanked by Szabina, Anara, Gabriel, Abe, and Seward. Though they were all silent, I could feel their tension.

Before we had made our way down to the cellar, Jonathan approached and embraced me. I leaned in to him, relieved that he had not kept his distance from me as he’d vowed to in Transylvania. His eyes were wet with tears, and he confessed that it would be too difficult for him to watch the feral drink from me. Anara and Szabina had then pulled me aside to prepare me for what was to come.

“I have the ability to control feral vampires. They are newly transformed and susceptible to hypnosis—not only from their maker, but from other vampires. Radu taught—” Anara’s voice caught as she spoke her maker’s name, and pain darted across her features before she continued. “Radu taught me how to do it years ago. It only works in our tongue. But the hypnosis does not always take. We were fortunate that it worked in the fortress,” she warned. “The feral will drain you of your blood. Under my guide, it will bite its wrist and press it to your lips. You will barely be conscious, and instinct will make you drink. You will then go into a deep sleep. When you awaken, the transformation will have already begun.”

I tried to maintain my calm, but trepidation filled me at the thought of the feral draining me of my blood.

Now that I stood opposite the feral, I felt my courage slip and panic began to rise. What if it completely drained me and I did not survive the transformation? What if I was unable to properly function during my transformation and was reduced to hisses and growls, like Lucy?

“If you want to change your mind, now is the time to tell us,” Szabina said, studying me closely.

“No,” I forced myself to say, swallowing back my apprehension as I gave her a nod. “I’m ready.”

Anara approached the feral, kneeling down to address her in that same melodic language she had used at the fortress. The feral immediately calmed, going silent as she sank down to the floor in a crouch, her predatory eyes still trained on me.

Szabina gently took me by the hand and guided me forward. I took steady breaths to remain placid as we approached the now stoic feral, who continued to track my approach with her black eyes.

“You may want to close your eyes,” Szabina whispered. “It will make this easier.”

I obliged without protest. With my eyes closed, I did not have to look into the soulless eyes of the feral eager to feast on my blood. I could now only hear the faint breaths of the others as Szabina continued to guide me forward, seating me on the floor with my back pressed against the stone wall.

I did not know how close I was to the feral, but I could hear her sharp, guttural breaths somewhere in my vicinity. My pulse quickened and I clenched my quaking hands in my lap in an attempt to still them. I became very aware of the sound of the feral’s breathing, my own uneven breaths, and the tense silence of the room.

It happened quickly. There was a hot breath on my neck and the piercing of sharp fangs into my throat’s fragile flesh. Instinctively, I cried out and tried to move away, but Szabina’s hands held me still as the creature eagerly drank from me, and my nausea swelled as my blood flowed into her hungry mouth. Again, I tried to move away, but Szabina continued to hold me still. The time to change my mind had passed.

I grew increasingly weak as my blood drained from my body, and a lethargy more powerful than I had ever known took hold of me. I struggled to hold on to my consciousness, but I was claimed by an abrupt yet calming blackness.

Soon, I was floating in that strange space between consciousness and dreams, and memories flickered through my mind like photographic images come to life.

I was a child of five, giggling as my mother chased me through the house, to the great annoyance of my governess. I stood alone in Highgate Cemetery, my small body racked with sobs as I stood over my mother’s grave. I was a child of ten, seated on the floor of Father’s study as I completed a biological sketch of a butterfly, eagerly holding it up for his inspection. He took off his spectacles to examine it before giving me a wide approving smile and a nod.

I was a girl of fifteen, hurrying down the hallway, eager to discuss the book I had just read with Father. I halted in my tracks at the sight of a handsome young man with wavy chestnut hair and cerulean blue eyes standing outside his study. Young Mister Van Helsing, Father boomed, approaching him with a smile. The man returned the smile, and a rush of warmth filled me when his eyes met mine. I was a young woman, walking through the streets of Amsterdam with Abe. He stopped mid stride and quite suddenly pulled me into his arms, his mouth gentle against mine as we kissed. Abe and I were lying beneath the stars in a forest clearing, our bodies lovingly entwined, flushed with love.

I stood opposite a police officer, frantically trying to explain what I had seen, my words catching on sobs.

Some kind of man—monster—feasted on my father! I screamed. I saw it—you saw the marks on his neck! You must do something! Please!

I stood over Father’s grave. Abe stood next to me, and I pressed his engagement ring firmly into his palm, turning to walk away from him as he called out my name, ignoring the searing pain in my chest.

I hovered on the edge of a ballroom, filled with both grief and loneliness. Another handsome man with dark hair and dancing hazel eyes approached me, and I felt dormant emotions stir as our eyes met.

I sat in a carriage with Jonathan. The rain pounded furiously around us, but my entire being was focused on Jonathan. He was looking at me with hopeful anticipation, with so much love. Yes, I whispered to him. With all my heart, yes. And then his lips were pressed against mine, and I wanted nothing more than to remain in that perfect moment.

Jonathan and I were at the Langham, dancing the waltz. I felt warm and safe in his arms, and rested my head against his chest.

I was alone. The ballroom and Jonathan vanished, and I stood in a forest clearing in Transylvania. Ahead of me, I could see Vlad and Ilona feasting on my dead parents, their eyes lifeless and empty, their mouths open in permanent screams. I was frozen in horror at the sight, but my surroundings changed once more.

I was in the church where Jonathan and I had married, only now I wore an elaborate ivory wedding dress, drenched with my parents’ blood. Jonathan stood before me, his eyes cold and black as he lunged towards me, his lips curled back to reveal fangs.

I opened my mouth to scream, but I was now walking through a bustling village with a basket of vegetables, catching the eye of a young man with curly brown hair and bright green eyes who smiled at me. Feeling suddenly shy, I returned his smile.

The young man was kissing me as we stood in a forest clearing, and I was consumed by desire. He pulled back with great reluctance, resting his lips on my forehead, asking me when I was going to tell our parents, when were we going to be wed? I want to be with you always, my love, he whispered. Always. Soon, I promised him, my heart bursting with love. Soon.

It was night. I was lying in a small bed, and Vlad hovered over me. His cold hand was pressed against my mouth as I tried to scream, and his fangs were descending towards my throat.

Silence, he hissed, his eyes flashing with warning. Lie very still. You will be mine soon. You will be with the rest of us.

Outside, I could hear the horrified screams of the other villagers, but I was too weak to move as Vlad’s fangs sunk into my throat, silencing my attempt at a scream, and I could only lie helpless as he drained me of my blood, until there was only oblivion.

12

Transformation

When I opened my eyes, I was lying in a massive bed in an ornate master bedroom, similar to the guest room I’d rested in back in Budapest.

A worried looking Abe sat at my bedside. Anara, Szabina, and Gabriel stood behind him, while Seward hovered by the doorway. They all looked starkly relieved when I opened my eyes.

“How long have I been sleeping?” I croaked, sitting up. I felt heavy and lethargic, as if I had been sleeping for days.

“For several hours. It is just after sunset,” Anara replied. “What type of dreams did you have? Were there any that may have come from the feral?”

“Perhaps we should ask how she is feeling before interrogating her,” Abe said, glaring at Anara before turning back to me. “Are you feeling ill at all? Weak?”

“Just tired,” I groggily replied, rubbing my eyes. “My dreams . . . they were like memories. Events from my past. Twisted versions of them. There . . . there were also nightmares. Horrible images,” I recalled with a shudder as I thought of the sight of Vlad and Ilona feasting on my parents. “And yes, there were also memories that were not my own,” I added, thinking of the young man in the village, his kiss, and the image of Vlad hovering over me, his sharp fangs descending towards my throat. Snatched memories from the female vampire who had drank from me—a life that had been tragically lost.

“Then you are sharing memories with the feral,” Szabina said, looking relieved. “You should soon have a direct connection to Vlad. We will have to prepare you for when your mind is linked with his. Vlad’s influence is strong, like his sister’s. You have seen her influence on your husband.”

“Where is Jonathan?” I asked, frowning as I looked around the room. I knew he hadn’t wanted to see the feral drain me, but I hoped he would be at my side for the aftermath, even with the lingering tension between us.

At my question, everyone fell silent. Abe tactfully avoided my gaze, while Szabina and Anara exchanged a look. Gabriel and Seward just looked uncomfortable.

“He was here earlier,” Szabina said finally. “He is downstairs in the drawing room with the others.”

I could tell that they were hiding something from me, and I started to press, but Abe spoke up.

“Mina needs more rest before you start training her mind,” he said to Anara and Szabina. “We are leaving for London early tomorrow. There is plenty of time to prepare her on the journey.”

“We need all the time we have, Abraham,” Anara said. “Which means we start tonight.”

“Mina has just undergone a great—” Abe began, his voice rising.

“Abe,” I interrupted. “It is all right. I agree with Anara. We do need to make use of all the time we have.”

“Eat something first. And please let me examine you,” he grudgingly relented.

After Abe examined me, finding no overt effects of the transformation as of yet, he and the others left the room, and I was left alone with Anara and Szabina.

“Why did Jonathan leave?” I asked bluntly.

“While you were dreaming, you kept murmuring both Jonathan and Abraham’s names,” Anara said, after a brief pause. “Jonathan left the room after your fifth mention of Abraham’s name.”

“Oh, no,” I whispered, my face flushing hot with embarrassment at the thought.

“Your desires—however deep, however hidden—all come out when you are in the state of transformation. It is like a snake shedding its skin . . . a way of leaving your human side behind as you become vampire. It happens to all of us who undergo the Change,” Szabina said.

“You love them both,” Anara said plainly. “Why are you trying to hide it?”

“Anara,” Szabina said with a frown. “That is none of our concern.”

“Why are you even bothering to help me?” I demanded, deftly changing the subject as I glared at Anara. “I know you hate me. You’ve tried to kill me twice.”

“I do not care about you enough to hate you. My father wanted to help you—I am merely honoring his wishes. But most importantly, I want his children dead,” Anara calmly replied, not at all perturbed by my words. She could tell that I was evading the issue, and continued. “Do not hide from what’s in your mind, Mina. Vlad and Ilona will sense everything. To truly deceive them you must be transparent. You and your husband smell nothing like each other. I assume Jonathan has not shared the marital bed with you.”

“Szabina is right—that is none of your concern!” I protested, flushing.

“For your plan to work, it is my concern. Vampires can smell and sense everything. If you are to present yourself as a married couple to Vlad and Ilona, you need to smell like one. And that means sharing a bed.”

“It may be helpful that we do not smell of each other,” I stammered. “Ilona is obsessed with Jonathan, and jealous of me.”

“Then you will need to convince her that you don’t mind sharing. Our mating rules are not as stringent as humans are; we often have many mates. For the sake of your plan, you and Jonathan are a married human couple on the verge of transforming into vampires who want to join the winning side. This is your plan, Mina. Now you must follow it through.”

“She is right,” Szabina quietly conceded. “If Vlad and Ilona sense any tension between you and your husband . . .”

I bit back an angry retort as the truth of their words sank in. It would be quite suspicious if Jonathan and I had any outward friction between us when we presented ourselves to them.

“All right,” I said warily. “I will talk to Jonathan. Let’s get on with the training . . . I have no appetite.”

Szabina gently guided me out of bed and into a plush armchair by the window. She sat down on the chair opposite me, making me close my eyes as she put me under hypnosis.

But as the hypnosis set in, I felt nothing, only a heavy fatigue. When she drew me out of it, frustration swept over me.

“I feel nothing other than this fatigue. It feels like there has been no change in me at all,” I said, worried that the transformation would not take hold. We were leaving tomorrow, and there was no alternative plan.

“It takes time. You were only drained and given blood several hours ago,” Szabina said, giving my hand a comforting squeeze before getting to her feet. “You do need more rest.”

Anara reluctantly agreed, and they left me alone to sleep. Despite my fatigue, I remained awake, still disturbed from what I had seen during my state of unconsciousness, and terrified of what I would see should I fall into it again.

As I was finally drifting off, the bedroom door swung open, and Jonathan entered. I immediately sat up, giving him a tentative smile. But my hope dissipated as I took in his countenance. He held himself rigidly, and his eyes were once again cold and guarded.

“Jonathan—” I began, deciding to address what had happened during my dreams. I got out of bed to approach him, but he held up his hand.

“I do not want to discuss it, Mina,” he said wearily. “Anara informed me that we need to appear unified if we are to deceive Vlad and Ilona. We need to sleep next to each other tonight.”

He moved past me towards the bed, still avoiding my gaze as he sat down and removed his shoes. It was as if his earlier tenderness towards me had never happened at all.

“I cannot help what I saw in my dreams,” I said. “They were like memories. You know what it is like—you’re going through the same thing! This isn’t going to work if you treat me with such coldness, Jonathan.”

I was talking about more than the plan to kill Vlad and Ilona, and I could tell that he understood my meaning. His shoulders stiffened, but he still did not turn around.

“I know you cannot help what you see when you undergo the transformation,” he replied. “But you forget that my mind is still not my own, and I can still see the images that Ilona put into my thoughts. Hearing you say his name repeatedly has only made matters worse.”

“I told you, you need to fight. You need to use your love for me as a barrier to keep the darkness away. It is the only way we’ll succeed.”

Jonathan remained silent, and my entire body deflated. Had I truly lost him? Even if my plan to kill Vlad and Ilona worked, how could things ever go back to the way they were before? The weight of the day’s events—the feral vampire at my throat, my dark dreams, the impending danger that awaited us in London, and Jonathan’s renewed coldness settled over me, and my eyes burned with tears. I turned away from him, pressing my hand to my mouth to stifle a sob.

But I soon felt gentle hands on my shoulders. Jonathan turned me around to face him, his face grave with regret and sorrow as he pulled me into his arms.

“I do not deserve you, Mina,” he whispered into my hair, sounding bereft. “Forgive me. Forgive my jealousy. I curse the monster who has done this to us. I will happily destroy her. I am trying to fight the darkness, my darling. I will continue to try.”

He took my hand and guided me towards the bed, pulling me down next to him and enfolding me into his arms.

“You need to take the advice you gave me. You have been through much these past few days,” he whispered. “Rest, darling. Sleep.”

I obliged, my lingering fatigue now seeping in to every part of my body, and my eyes fluttered shut. Jonathan continued to hold me close as I drifted off to sleep, whispering words of endearment into my ear. The sleep I fell into was heavier than any sleep I had ever known, filled with snatches of memory both familiar and strange.

I awoke with a start. The space where Jonathan had lain beside me was now empty, and the early morning rays of dawn streamed past the heavy velvet curtains into the room. I blinked, turning away from the window. The faint sunlight seemed exceedingly bright, and I realized that I felt different. I felt . . . more.

I could clearly hear snatches of conversation coming from downstairs, when the day before I’d been unable to hear past this room. Outside, I could hear two street vendors bickering in the central square. I could see every intricate detail of the patterns woven into the rugs on the floor and in the curtains. From the kitchen, I could smell freshly baked bread, the sweetness of fruits, and the heavy aroma of coffee. I could also smell the musk of sweat and the coppery scent of blood from the other human and vampire occupants of the house. It seemed as if all of my senses had come to life, and I was truly experiencing them for the first time.

Shaking, I reached up to feel my teeth. They were sharper and more elongated than before. As I touched them, I felt a whisper in the back of my mind, like the soft caress of a lover, firm and insistent.

The end is the beginning, my children. The world will be ours.

It was a coldly familiar voice. It was Vlad’s voice.

13

Rage

“I have never seen the transformation take hold so swiftly,” Szabina said with a worried frown, examining the pallor of my skin and my sharpened teeth. “It usually takes much longer for any physical changes to occur.”

After hearing Vlad’s voice in my mind, I shouted for help, and everyone came into the bedroom at once. I was now seated on the armchair by the window as Szabina examined me. Abe, Jonathan, and the others hovered around us.

“Then we need to stop it before it progresses further,” Jonathan said, his voice firm. “Kill the feral now.”

“Yes,” Gabriel said, practically shaking with worry. “I’ll do it.”

“I agree,” Abe said. “It is too much of a risk to—”

“No,” I interrupted. “If I’m hearing him in my mind, I can communicate with him and lure him to Purfleet. We arrive in England tomorrow—that’s only another day.”

“Mina—” Jonathan protested.

“I can endure this for another day,” I insisted, before turning towards Szabina. “Do I still have time before the transformation is complete?”

“You do,” Szabina replied, but she looked uncertain as her vivid eyes roamed over my face. “From the way you look, perhaps two or three days at the most.”

“Then another day in this state will do me no harm,” I said, though I had to suppress my own trepidation as I got to my feet. The thought of becoming permanently vampire terrified me, but I was determined to carry out my plan. It was the only chance we had and the time for our confrontation was almost at hand.

Everyone looked trepidatious, especially my husband, Gabriel, and Abe; but they reluctantly nodded in agreement. They all filed out of the room so that I could wash and change, except for Jonathan. We kept silent, but I sensed his eyes on me as I washed and put on a dark red traveling dress that Anara had loaned me from one of the wardrobes in the house. As I dressed, I was intensely aware of every sight, smell and sound—the brightness of the sunlight filtering in the window, the voices from downstairs and outside, Jonathan’s overwhelming scent of honey, blood, and oak.

“Mina,” he said, when I finished getting dressed, approaching me to cup my face in his. I hungrily took him in; with my heightened vision, he looked even more handsome. His pale skin gleamed like fine ivory, his hazel eyes a vivid green speckled with gold, his mouth sensually full. I could even sense his emotions—love, worry, fear.

“I know how you are feeling. It is as if the entire world has come alive around you.”

“Yes,” I whispered. “I can feel everything.”

“I know it is difficult, but try not to let it overwhelm you.”

I gave him an agreeable nod, and moved over to the mirror to put on my veiled hat.

“Perhaps . . . perhaps you shouldn’t look at your reflection,” Jonathan hedged.

But it was too late. I had already glimpsed my reflection. My skin was ghostly pale, my eyes shimmered like golden fire, and my lips were red and flushed with blood. Though I was not yet fully transformed, I already looked like one of those monsters.

Jonathan watched me with concern as I hastily turned away from the mirror, putting on the veiled hat that concealed my face. I gave him another nod to indicate that I was all right, though I was still shaken by my appearance.

As we descended the stairs to join the others, I tried to steel myself against the multitude of smells and sounds that seized my senses. When we reached the front entrance hall at the base of the stairs, I could even feel the emotions of the other humans and vampires in the house, as powerfully as any scent or sound. There was anxiety, tension, and great distress.

I halted in my tracks, overwhelmed. How could I hope to confront Vlad and Ilona when I felt so deluged by my heightened senses?

“Try to focus on one thing at a time; that has helped me,” Jonathan said gently, taking my hand. “Focus on the feel of my hand in yours.”

I heeded his advice, focusing on the coolness of his hand over mine as we made our way to the dining room, where the others were gathered.

I took everyone in when we entered the room, as I had barely paid attention to any of them when Szabina was examining me. Gabriel appeared to me just as he had before, darkly beautiful, his silver eyes glittering. Seward also looked the same, though his boyish features appeared slightly more pronounced.

But like Jonathan, Abe seemed even more handsome to me now, his blue eyes more vivid, his wavy chestnut hair shot with gold as it caught the light, his lean muscles pronounced beneath the crisp white shirt and dark vest he wore. I was unable to suppress the jolt of desire that shot through me at the sight of him, and I had to avert my eyes. If Jonathan sensed the emotion, he made no indication of it, taking the seat next to me as I tried to eat. Thankfully, I did not yet feel a desire for blood, but the plate of fresh bread and fruit did not entice my appetite. I still forced myself to eat, though the food was tasteless in my mouth.

“We have time before the train leaves,” Szabina spoke up. She was studying me with concern; no doubt my struggle to acclimate myself to my awakened senses were evident. “Perhaps Mina should take more time to adjust before we depart.”

Everyone’s eyes turned towards me, and I flushed. They all nodded in agreement, my husband and Abe enthusiastically so.

“Wilhelmina,” Szabina said, giving me a gentle smile. “Shall we take a walk? Your husband can accompany us as well. It will be good to get you acclimated to your new senses.”

Moments later, the three of us, and two vampire guards who followed us from a distance, left the house to make our way down the bustling street.

At first, the array of senses that hit me were too much, and I felt myself reeling. Sounds that I had long ago grown accustomed to—horse hooves clattering on cobblestoned streets, vendors shouting about their wares, even the conversations around me—seemed to reverberate around me. As we walked, I could hear the details of an argument a couple were having inside a home, the distant peal of laughter from a child, even the whispered words of what sounded like two clandestine lovers in a bedroom.

A cacophonous array of blood, copper, and sweat hit my nostrils, while every visual detail of the street around me was amplified—the color of the houses, the detail of cobblestone patterns, the vivid blue of the sky.

“It took me a full year to adjust to my heightened senses,” Szabina said, studying my face with concern. “This is just what you’re seeing as you go through your transformation. If you were to complete the transformation, everything would be even more vivid.”

“It’s . . . it’s too much,” I whispered, stopping as Jonathan grasped my shoulder. “I don’t know if—”

“We can kill the feral and end this now,” Jonathan said swiftly. “Say the word, and we will do it.”

I closed my eyes, but Jonathan already had my arm in a firm grip as he began to lead me back to the house. But I remembered all that was at stake—the human lives in London, Europe— the world.

“No,” I said, but Jonathan kept dragging me along. “Jonathan. No.”

He stopped and turned to face me, his mouth set in a grim line.

“I can adjust,” I whispered, turning to look at Szabina, who gave me a smile that was edged with worry. “Let’s continue.”

I turned and continued to make my way down the street, taking deep breaths to maintain my calm. I took Jonathan’s earlier advice and focused on one thing at a time rather than allow my senses to be assaulted all at once, and gradually, I felt myself relaxing. We made it as far as the train station before turning back to head back to the house. I could feel Szabina and Jonathan’s eyes trained on me the whole time. Once we reached the house, Szabina gave me a broad smile. She looked relieved.

“You did well, Wilhelmina,” she said. “You must rest now. Your senses have endured much these past few hours. We must be careful not to overwhelm you.”

As we entered, Abe and Seward were emerging from the drawing room, and at the sight of Abe, I had to force myself to quell a sudden burst of longing; I’d felt a minor version of it before, but the power of it was so great that I almost stumbled back. Jonathan stiffened at my side, but kept his grip firm on my arm as he led me upstairs to the bedroom.

“Rest,” he said, his tone hovering between polite and curt, before he left the room.

Somehow, I managed to rest, quelling my restless senses by closing my eyes and focusing on the steady sound of my breathing, the rush of blood through my veins. It seemed as if not much time had passed before Gabriel had come up to my room to fetch me.

“May I ask you something?” he asked, as we made our way out of the room and down the hall towards the stairs.

“Yes,” I replied, with a curious frown.

“How is it different? I’ve always been this way,” he confessed.

“It’s as if everything was dull and muted,” I said, after a brief pause. “And now . . . there is nothing but color. But it is all difficult to adjust to . . . like looking directly into the sun.”

Gabriel studied me curiously before giving me a small nod. When we reached the top of the stairs, he reached out to grasp my arm.

“Vlad and Ilona are monsters. When one of them is in your mind, try not to forget who you are.”

“Of course,” I replied, baffled, but he held my gaze for several long moments before proceeding down the stairs.

It took great effort, but by the time we left the house and arrived at the train station, I managed to somewhat acclimate myself to my increased awareness without allowing it to overwhelm me.

We boarded the first train of the day to Budapest, taking up several different compartments around the train to avoid attracting too much attention from the other passengers, who would no doubt take notice of so many unnaturally tall and beautiful men and women.

When we switched trains to board the Orient Express in Budapest, I felt a great sadness that I realized was caused by the memory of Radu. I would always associate the city with the compassionate creature I had known so briefly, who had given his life to help us destroy his children. As I had long ago linked Amsterdam with Abe, Budapest would always be synonymous with Radu.

The Orient Express was the finest train I had ever traveled on, and Anara had arranged for our group to have our own sleeping carriage. With my perceptive vision, the gilded drapery, leather chairs, velvet curtains, and mahogany paneled interior seemed even more resplendent. I could only assume that Anara had inherited Radu’s wealth for her to afford such accommodations.

But there was no time to appreciate the luxury of the train. Jonathan and I settled into our compartment, but as soon as the train pulled out of the station for the long journey to Paris, we went to find Anara and Szabina.

Both Anara and Szabina were in the compartment next to ours, and they separated us to begin our training. Szabina led Jonathan back to our compartment, while I remained with Anara.

Once we were alone, Anara sat down opposite me, fixedly holding my eyes, and I was reminded of Radu’s intense gaze.

“When I first became vampire, my rage and hatred towards humans was strong. Radu’s love managed to pull me away from those emotions, but they remained beneath the surface. I felt that hatred when Gabriel brought you and your friends into our home. You radiated with fear, and I have experienced the very worst of human fear. It made me react violently,” she said. Her words were not an apology, and she spoke with frankness. “I’m telling you this because it is rage that you need to convince Vlad. He is all rage—no love. It is what he understands; it is what drives him. I believe there is rage in you, Mina. But you are a good person,” she added, the statement sounding more like a denunciation than regard. “Your goodness makes you suppress, rather than embrace, your rage. Gabriel told Radu that you nearly killed him when he revealed himself to you.”

I lowered my eyes, flushing with shame at the memory.

“Yes. But that was when I thought all vampires were monsters, and I did not know if I could trust him. It wasn’t—”

“Your reaction proves that you are capable of allowing your rage to drive you. For the next two days, you need to embrace your rage, as you did when you nearly killed your brother. That is how you’ll connect to Vlad and lure him. Who else do you feel anger towards?”

“My parents,” I whispered, after a long pause. It felt like a betrayal to admit it aloud, but it was true. “They kept many secrets from me.”

“Good,” Anara said, looking pleased. “That will be your reason for joining them. Your parents betrayed you. In a way, they both abandoned you. What about your life in London? Besides Jonathan, was there anyone you were close to? What about enemies?”

There was Clara, of course, but she was my sole ally. I thought of Mary Harker, Jane Newton, Horace Welling, and the rigid society men and women who had been so cruel to my Father and attempted to shun me.

“I was a bit of an outcast,” I said hesitantly. “But the snobbery of London society is hardly enough—”

“It is everything. Humans have been cruel to you. They do not deserve your loyalty. Focus on the cruelest things they’ve done to you, and use it. When you speak to Vlad in your mind, focus on your rage towards them. All of them.”

A part of me wanted to protest, to defend my parents; especially my father. But I did need to convince Vlad that I wanted to join him, and any persistent loyalty towards my parents would dissuade him from believing me.

“Tell him that you know where the last members of the Order are hiding. That will entice him,” Anara continued. “And remember, you want to lure him out of London and to the estate in Purfleet. When you are ready, close your eyes, and focus on your breathing.”

I obliged her as she put me under hypnosis, as Szabina had done the night before, and closed my mind off to my surroundings. Soon, the sound of the wheels on the train tracks and the murmured voices of the others in neighboring compartments faded into nothing.

“Search for Vlad’s whisper in your mind. Speak back to him, as if he were in this carriage with us. And do not forget your rage towards your parents and other humans—their betrayal, their cruelty.”

I kept my eyes tightly shut, listening intently for the whisper I’d heard when I first awoke. After several long moments, I heard it. It was faint at first, and gradually became clear.

The world will be ours, my children. Make your own progeny. Feast and multiply.

The words repeated themselves like a litany, and I had to set aside the revulsion that flared in my chest at the sound of his voice in my mind, at the horror of his words. Instead, I allowed his words to flow through me. And I spoke back.

I am the last Ghyslaine. One of the last members of the Order of the Dragon. I want to join you. I pledge my fealty to you.

I repeated the words over and over again, until I felt a strange pull, as if I was being beckoned. There was a presence in my mind; I felt it as clearly as if Vlad were seated next to me in the carriage.

I had his attention. He was listening to me.

It is I, Wilhelmina Ghyslaine. I have failed in my attempt against you. I have become vampire like my husband. I no longer belong in the human world. They are not worthy of my loyalty. I will wait for you at the Carfax estate in Purfleet. I can help you destroy the Order; I know where they hide.

I felt a sudden hatred, a surge of maleficence that clung to my mind. I did not know if it came from me, or Vlad, but I held firm to my words, repeating them in my mind.

My parents betrayed me. Humans were cruel to me. I never should have fought you. Let me help you destroy the Order. Let me help you win.

I thought of my mother. She could have left the fight against Vlad to the other members of the Order. She did not have to abandon me. My father could have told me what he was doing in Transylvania. They had chosen to put their pursuits above their daughter, whom they supposedly loved. They had left me, alone and isolated, to shoulder the burden of a dark legacy. Hot rage took hold of me as I continued speaking to him in my mind.

My parents were never worthy of my love. They left me alone. They abandoned me. Let me join you, Master.

“Mina!” Abe cried.

My eyes flew open. I had fallen to the floor of the compartment, and I was lying on my back. Abe was crouched behind me, and he helped me to my feet, his brow furrowed with concern. Anara stood right outside the compartment, her eyes wide with uncertainty.

“Why did you wake me?” I demanded, extricating myself from Abe’s grip. “I was speaking to Vlad. He was listening to me!”

“Your eyes went completely black, and you lost consciousness,” Anara said. “I called Abraham for help.”

“I–I’m quite all right,” I stammered, though I was alarmed at her description of my state. “Put me back under hypnosis. I need to keep talking to him.”

“No,” Anara and Abe said at once.

“You need to rest and eat,” Abe said, silencing me before I could protest.

“Then we need to practice separating your dark thoughts from your rational ones,” Anara added. “Especially when you are so close to becoming vampire.”

I reluctantly fell silent, surprised by the flare of rage I felt at their words. The darkness was still there, and it was strangely intoxicating. It was difficult to resist its pull, and I had to take several deep breaths to calm myself.

We headed to the dining carriage, where the others were already seated. Both Jonathan and Gabriel rose from their seats when I entered, worriedly searching my face. I gave them a small smile to indicate that I was all right, though I still felt unsettled.

We took the table opposite them, and Jonathan confirmed that he had been able to connect with Ilona. He had also lost consciousness, and it had been very difficult for him to return to himself again. But he had vaguely been able to make out where she was—a large home in London with an interior he recognized.

“I handled the sale last year. It is located in Mayfair and currently vacant. It is one of the houses I told them about during my capture. There were many of those creatures gathered, including Vlad.”

“Bloody hell,” Seward whispered, closing his eyes. “So they are in London.”

After I recounted my own experience of connecting with Vlad in my mind, Szabina frowned.

“This worries me,” she murmured. “We cannot risk you both losing hold of your sanity and actually joining Vlad—or revealing your deception.”

“I will never forget that they are responsible for the deaths of my parents and many other innocents,” I said hotly, offended by the suggestion. “I’ll do whatever training is necessary to ensure that I don’t lose myself; but we must keep connecting with them. This proves that my plan is working. They’re listening to us, and now we know for certain that they’re in London. We must continue to lure them to us in Purfleet.”

“Vlad and Ilona are powerful,” Gabriel said, addressing Szabina and Anara. “Are we certain that Mina and Jonathan can kill them on their own?”

“They won’t be alone,” Abe interjected. “The rest of us will hide on the grounds of the estate, ready to strike when necessary.”

“There is no certainty that we will get to them in time,” Szabina added. “Anara and I will do our best to ensure that Mina and Jonathan know exactly what to do when the time comes.”

“We’ll be ready,” I said. I looked forward to killing them both; I could feel my kukri knives rub eagerly against the skin beneath my sleeves. Jonathan did not share my confident look. His eyes were shadowed with trepidation, but he gave the others an affirmative nod.

Szabina and Anara led us to the empty smoking saloon, where we had slightly more space to move, and briefly trained us on the best way to dispatch Vlad and Ilona. While I was familiar with much of what they told us because of the training I had undergone prior to the fortress attack, I could see that Jonathan looked overwhelmed by all the information.

“You can do this,” I assured him. “Just remember all that those monsters have put you through.”

“I am unable to forget,” Jonathan replied darkly.

We were separated to connect with Vlad and Ilona once more. Anara cautioned me to hold on to my true intentions beneath the rage. When she again put me under hypnosis, I embraced the familiar sound of Vlad’s whisper in my mind.

But this time, his whispers were personal. He was speaking directly to me. Mina, his voice whispered. Mina.

It is I, Mina. Let me join you, I responded, pushing away my trepidation at hearing the monster use my name. I will wait for you at the Carfax estate in Purfleet, and I will help you.

As I silently spoke to him, I began to think of my mind as two separate entities. The dark and the light. Vampire and human. I held back my true thoughts as I whispered the lies.

Come to me so that I can kill you, you monster, my true thoughts raged. Come to me so that I can rip out your heart with my blade.

* * *

“When I first saw you,” Jonathan said reflectively. “You were sitting off to the side of the ballroom. You were wearing all black, which was quite scandalous to the women who sat near me. They thought it inappropriate to attend a ball when in mourning. You looked unhappy, but there was still something about you that drew me in.”

Jonathan and I were now seated on our beds in our compartment. After completing our training with Anara and Szabina, we had taken a brief meal in the dining carriage with the others. Unlike the day before, when fatigue had weighed me down, I now felt a pulsating energy, and I had no desire to rest. I only agreed to try at the urging of Jonathan and the others.

“I think I loved you before I even said a word to you,” Jonathan continued now. “But I was such a fool, Mina.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. With my newly heightened awareness, I could sense the conflicting emotions emanating from him—love, worry, confusion, resolve.

“To think that life as a member of London society would ever satisfy you, even if it were with me. Now that I have seen what you are capable of, I cannot see you happily living that life. I know this has been a perilous journey, and you have experienced much despair, but I have never seen such passion in you as I have during this journey. It is as if you’ve come to life.”

“You think I want this?” I asked, incredulous, getting to my feet. “Vampires in our midst, on the verge of destroying everything? A possible war that—”

“No,” Jonathan said, fervently shaking his head as he also clamored to his feet. “Of course not. But you are a scientist and an adventurer. It is who you are, Mina. I see that now. Once this is over—Vlad and Ilona dead, the threat of vampires gone—do you see yourself happily living in London as if none of this ever happened?”

“Yes!” I cried. The dark rage that I had kept at bay seized me once more. “It is all I have wished for—to have things back to the way they were before your abduction!”

“Being the mother to our children? Hosting charity balls? Afternoon tea with my mother and other society wives?” Jonathan pressed, ignoring my outburst. “Think of it, Mina. That would be your life.”

“I have already thought of it,” I protested, though my voice wavered, and a familiar dread stirred in my stomach at the picture Jonathan painted of my future in London. “I agreed to marry you, did I not? I am married to you. Your life will be my life. As long as you are in it, I will be happy. This is the last thing we should be focused on when we are so close to confronting Vlad and Ilona. We need to be focused on the task that lies before us—not if I will hate having tea with your mother in the future.”

Jonathan’s conflicted expression remained as his eyes swept over my face. Unlike the day before, or in Transylvania, there was no coldness, anger or jealousy in his eyes—only an acceptance that made me nervous. He leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on my lips.

“You are right. We should rest,” he said quietly.

He turned from me, removing his coat and dropping it on the side table. I knew the matter was not settled, and my burgeoning rage swelled. Had I not risked my life to rescue him? Had I not married him?

My hands shot out to grip his arms, forcing him around to face me.

“How can you doubt me—us—after all that I have done for you? After we have been wed? Do you not know what I’ve gone through, all in the name of rescuing you?” I shouted, furious.

“Mina,” Jonathan’s voice was panicked. “Please. Come back to yourself.”

The genuine fear in his voice pierced my veil of fury. I released him at once, stumbling back. Jonathan looked down at his arms, rolling up his sleeves. There were red marks on his skin from where I had grabbed him. Shaking, I pressed my hand to my mouth.

“Oh, Jonathan. I–I am so sorry,” I breathed.

“That was not you. The whites of your eyes went completely black. This frightens me. I worry for you.”

“I’m all right,” I protested, more loudly than I intended, and Jonathan tensed. I took a breath to calm myself before speaking again. “I’ll contain my rage. This is almost over. We are so very close, Jonathan.”

Jonathan was silent for a long moment before giving me a grudging nod of agreement. When we lay down next to each other on one of the narrow beds to sleep, he pulled me in close to the warmth of his body. Despite our physical closeness, I could still sense a distance from him, though there was also the unmistakable sense of desire—a desire which he did not act upon—and his slow even breaths told me that he had fallen asleep.

But my increased awareness and renewed energy kept me awake, along with the lingering rage that flowed throughout my body. Soon, I could hear Vlad’s distant whisper in my mind, and I welcomed it.

Mina, he whispered. Mina.

I am here, Master. Let me join you. Let me help you destroy the Order, I replied, all the while my true thoughts swirled beneath the surface, like a raging inferno.

Let me kill you, monster.

14

Purfleet

The cliffs of Dover dominated the shore in the near distance, like a massive hand beckoning us home. Jonathan and I stood side by side on the deck of the ferry as it crossed the Channel from France towards Dover. We were finally arriving back in England, but I felt no sense of relief. I knew that Vlad and his followers were here, like creatures who had slithered out of a nightmare and into reality. The day was appropriately ominous—gray and cloudy, storm clouds hovering above, keeping quiet watch over us as we neared the English shore.

Though I was filled with dread over the looming confrontation with Vlad and Ilona, I knew that it was inevitable. It was the only way to stop Jonathan’s complete transformation into vampire, and to save the human world. There was no time for doubt or hesitation.

I turned to glance behind me, where the others from our group stood amongst the crowd on the deck. Abe’s gaze had been centered on me, but he averted his eyes. The others were somberly watching the approaching coast, their faces taut with anxiety.

During the final stretch of our journey, a heavy silence had fallen over our group. Unlike the attack at the fortress, there was a sense of finality to this confrontation. At the fortress, the lives of Jonathan and the other human prisoners had been at stake. Now it was the fate of the human world. I recalled Vlad’s words in my mind with a chill. Feast and multiply. If we failed today . . .

“Mina,” Jonathan said, pulling me from my dark thoughts as he turned me to face him. “I love you, so very much. After our discussion last night, I do not want you to doubt that. Especially with what we are about to face.”

“I know,” I said. His words from last night still stung, but there was no time to dwell on them now, and I gave him a forced smile.

When the ferry disembarked at Dover, we made our way to the train station. To avoid suspicion, and in case we were being watched when we arrived in Purfleet, Jonathan and I would travel separately to Purfleet by train, while the rest of our group would take the next train that departed fifteen minutes later. During a brief stop in Paris before we transferred trains, Jonathan had sent a wire to Vlad in Mayfair, providing him with the exact address of the Carfax estate in Purfleet. While I had no doubt that Vlad had heard my telepathic words, we wanted to make absolutely certain that he knew where to find us.

On the platform, we murmured our goodbyes to our vampire allies, and Anara and Szabina approached us, inspecting the weapons we were bringing with us. I had my kukri knives, and we both had wooden stakes doused with wolfsbane tucked securely into our clothes.

“You remember exactly what to do?” Szabina asked anxiously. At our nods, she continued, “We will hide on the outskirts of the estate. As soon as we can, we will join you.”

She gave us both a warm embrace. Anara stepped forward, taking both my hands in hers. I studied her warily. I knew Anara was not one for sentiment, and her words were characteristically blunt.

“When the time comes, do not miss, Mina. You miss, you die.”

“Anara,” Szabina and Gabriel protested, scowling at her.

“Such comforting words,” Seward added dryly, as he moved towards us.

“I will not miss,” I assured her, and she released my hands, though her eyes were still infused with anxiety.

“It’s been a journey, hasn’t it?” Seward asked when Anara stepped back, his countenance now serious. “I’m sorry for doubting you before.”

“There is no need for apologies. You have been a great ally. I hope this is not goodbye, no matter what the outcome. I would like for us to remain dear friends.”

Seward looked pleased at my request, and nodded his agreement. I stepped forward to give him an impulsive embrace.

“Kill those bloody monsters,” he whispered, before pulling away.

It was Gabriel’s turn to step forward. His eyes were stormy, his body tense.

“Gabriel,” I said, before he could speak. “Please do not try to dissuade me. It is not—”

“I–I wasn’t,” he stammered, looking genuinely surprised. “Believe me, I will never try to dissuade you again. I just . . . I wanted to say that our mother would be so very proud.”

I flushed, feeling guilty for my assumption.

“She would be proud of us both,” I whispered, before embracing him.

Abe was now the only one left. He hovered nervously behind the others, staring at some point past my shoulder. Instinctively, I glanced at Jonathan, and he gave me a reassuring nod.

I approached Abe, moving into his arms without a word. His arms encircled me, and I reeled from the emotions that emanated from him. There was overwhelming anxiety, tension . . . and love. The sense of his love was as potent as the sweetest smell, and tears sprang to my eyes. We just held each other for a moment, quietly reveling in the emotions that we both felt but did not speak aloud, even now. When we finally broke apart, Abe met my eyes.

“Mina,” he began. It seemed as if there was much he wanted to say, but he murmured just two words. “Stay alive.”

The same words I had whispered to him after the train derailment, but now they seemed to mean so much more, seemed to carry so much weight.

“You too,” I whispered.

Abe’s eyes shifted away from mine, shadowing briefly as they focused on something behind me.

“You should leave. Your husband is waiting.”

I turned. Jonathan was standing with the others, pointedly not looking at either of us. I gave Abe one last look, reaching out to clasp his hand, before stepping away to join Jonathan. Jonathan took my hand in his, and we approached the train bound for Purfleet.

When our train pulled away from the station, I turned to watch our group of humans and vampires, who stood on the platform watching us leave. Abe stood separately from the others, his eyes locking with mine and holding them until he faded completely from view, and his words still echoed in my mind. Stay alive.

* * *

When we arrived at the station in Purfleet, the carriage we had arranged for was waiting for us. Our driver, a man in his fifties with a thin mouth, craggy nose and permanently squinted eyes, took in the pallor of our skin and our worried expressions with so much suspicion that I feared he’d refuse to take us to our destination.

But he did, driving us away from the station and into Purfleet in silence. Purfleet was a quaint town, filled with medieval chalk quarries dotted with winding walkways for visitors, scenic gardens, old seventeenth century buildings, and modern tearooms and hotels for visiting tourists from London. But I could hardly focus on the pleasant sights of the town. My heart pounded with anxiety, my hands trembled in my lap, and my breathing was labored. What if Vlad and Ilona were not at the estate? What if they were? Were we truly prepared to kill them on our own?

“Breathe, Mina,” Jonathan whispered at my side, giving my hand a squeeze, though he also looked petrified, and his hand trembled over mine.

I obliged him, and by the time we reached the outskirts of town, I had managed to steady my breathing. The carriage approached a solitary medieval estate that towered at the far end of a long, dusty path. The estate looked as if it had been in disuse for centuries; its brick façade crumbling, the hedges that lined it overgrown, and the surrounding grounds teemed with grasses that had grown wild.

Our driver instinctively seemed to know that danger lay ahead. He abruptly stopped the carriage a dozen yards away from the path that led to the estate’s massive front doors.

“I’ll leave yer ‘ere,” he said stubbornly, as if expecting us to argue.

“All right,” Jonathan said, his polite tone belying the tension on his face, and he took my hand as we stepped out of the carriage. As soon as we were out, the driver immediately sped away, casting us one last uneasy glance over his shoulder.

Once he was gone, Jonathan tightened his hand over mine, lowering his voice.

“If it becomes necessary, Mina, save yourself. Do you understand?”

“If it becomes necessary, I will save us both.”

Jonathan scowled at my response but he did not argue, and kept my hand in his as we turned to head towards the estate. As we made our way down the dusty path, I scanned the dirty cracked windows of the estate to see if anyone observed our approach. But they were empty. The estate appeared to be completely abandoned. Despite my apprehension, I prayed that Vlad and Ilona were inside. Our plan would fail if they were still in London, or had suspected our true intentions.

When we reached the front double doors, I felt for one of my kukri knives beneath my sleeves, ready to strike if necessary. Jonathan reached out to open the unlocked door, and I held my breath.

The door swung open to a cavernous entrance hall, which must have been grand in its day, but now the wooden floors and vaulted ceilings were scratched and decrepit with age. An inner hall on our right led to a set of rickety stairs, but we moved past it to cautiously move forward, stepping into the first room on our left.

It was a large room that I assumed had once been a drawing room, barren of any furniture and dominated by a sizable window on the opposite end, providing a clear view of the forests that lined the estate’s grounds. The oak-paneled walls and fireplace ornately decorated with fine carvings hinted at the gilded room this must have once been.

I entered further, looking around. It was the perfect place to meet Vlad and Ilona. It was close to the front doors, the large window gave us another escape option, and there was a door to close us all in. I prayed that they weren’t lying in wait in one of the many other empty rooms of the estate. We were not prepared for an ambush. I used my increased awareness to listen or smell for any other presence in the house. I heard nothing, but I did smell the overwhelming scent of coppery blood.

I stiffened at the scent, recalling something Jonathan had told me just that morning. They smell like blood, he had whispered, looking haunted. Vampires smell like rage and blood.

“We can wait for Vlad and Ilona here,” Jonathan said abruptly, before I could tell him what I had sensed, his voice abnormally loud. “If any of our former allies follow us, we will kill them where they stand.”

I froze, horror racing through me at his words, until I met his eyes and felt his emotions, which screamed with alarm. He was warning me. His hand twitched ever so slightly, gesturing towards the hall outside of the drawing room. We are not alone, his eyes told me.

Someone else was here, and they were listening.

“They would be foolish to do such a thing,” I replied, holding his eyes to show him that I understood. “They chose not to join us.”

“I’m glad we are in agreement,” Jonathan said, looking relieved that I had caught on.

My hands trembled as I turned away from him, subtly feeling for my weapons beneath the sleeves and bodice of my dress. Who was watching us? Vlad? Ilona? One of their followers? Regardless of who it was, I knew that I needed to appear calm and resolute. I did not want our voyeur to see my unease, so I kept my eyes focused on the window and away from the door, anxiously waiting for whomever it was to show themselves.

Outside, I could vaguely make out distant figures in the trees that lined the grounds of the estate, and I felt a rush of relief. Abe and the others were here. We weren’t alone. I had to will my excitement away, schooling my features into an expression of detached calm.

Behind me, I felt an increased tension from Jonathan, and the sensation of multiple icy eyes on my skin. Praying that my face was an unreadable mask, I turned.

A group of ten vampires entered the drawing room, their furious gazes mostly pinned on me, and though they did not speak, I felt the hiss of Ghyslaine in my mind. Though I was not wholly surprised at the presence of other vampires, and we had anticipated this—Vlad would not be foolish enough to come here without protection—I did feel a fissure of alarm. It was crucial that we get the other vampires to leave.

Vlad and Ilona were the last ones to enter. It was eerie to me how human they appeared. Vlad looked like an upper-class English gentleman, with his fine black sack-coat, grey vest and trousers; Ilona a society wife in her midnight blue silk dress. Their dark beauty was the only thing that set them apart from most humans—that and the glittering eyes that shone with suspicion and hatred as they settled on me. Monsters in human skin, I thought, recalling Gijs’ words. These two creatures were responsible for scores of deaths; including the death of my parents.

But I held my hatred for them at bay, hoping that I looked appropriately reverent as they stepped forward, and forced myself not to flinch at their approach.

Before Jonathan or I could speak, Ilona reached out to grab me by neck, lurching me towards her, her lips curled back to reveal her fangs.

“Jonathan is bound to me. I knew he would come back to his maker,” she hissed, as I fruitlessly struggled to release myself from her grip. “My brother tells me you wish to join us. I think you are full of lies.”

I watched in mute horror as she swiftly lowered her other hand towards my chest, going directly for my heart. She was going to kill me. I tried desperately to yank myself away from her, but she was far too strong, and Jonathan cried out in alarm, reaching out to attempt to stop her, but it was Vlad who yanked her away from me.

“Not yet, Ilona!”

“I will not listen to her lies!” Ilona snarled, stepping away from her brother to glare at me. “You are a fool to trust her!”

“All that I have told you is true,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I held onto the black rage that had recently become a part of me, allowing it to color my words as I reverently sank down to my knees. At my side, Jonathan followed suit. “Both of my parents lied to me for my entire life. They betrayed and abandoned me,” I continued, quaking with fury as I thought of their treachery. “I have never truly belonged to the human world, I bear it no loyalty. My dear husband is becoming vampire; I have chosen to join him. To join you.”

Though my words were lies, the rage behind them were real, and I hoped that they could sense it.

“Tell me what I want to know, and perhaps I will believe you. Tell me where the surviving members of the Order of the Dragon hide,” Vlad said, his dark eyes trained intently on me, reminding me much of his father, though his held no traces of warmth or humanity.

I drew myself rigid, my eyes sliding to the other vampires as Jonathan and I climbed back to our feet. They were now regarding me with varying looks of suspicion, surprise, and lingering rage.

“I will only tell you and your sister. This is not information for them,” I said, gesturing towards the other vampires.

“You are not in the position to make demands!” Ilona spat, taking a threatening step towards me, but Jonathan moved protectively in front of me.

“Trust needs to be earned on both sides. You both are far stronger than the two of us. We will feel safer delivering this information to you alone,” he said, his tone decidedly lawyerly and matter of fact, though I could sense his underlying panic.

Vlad’s eyes met mine for several long moments, and I evenly held them, keeping my mind clear.

“I could make you tell me,” he said silkily. “We have our ways. I am sure that Jonathan remembers.”

“You do not have the time,” I said boldly, as Jonathan stiffened at my side, feigning bravery even as terror shot through me at the thought of being tortured at their hands. “You are very close to striking in London. I know that the members of the Order are trying to stop you even now as we speak. My information can help you rid yourself of them.”

I saw a brief flare of rage in his eyes at my defiance. Next to me, Jonathan stood rigidly, his body vibrating with anticipation. He was expecting Vlad to strike, but to my great relief, Vlad turned to gesture the other vampires out of the room.

As I watched them file out, the weapons beneath my clothes began to burn against my skin, as if they had somehow come to life and were aching to be buried in the flesh of the monsters before us. We just needed to get close enough to them both and strike at the same time, as we’d practiced. I could feel Jonathan’s continued tension; he was like a coiled snake prepared to strike. He was ready.

Once we were alone, my lips curved in a sly smile, and I moved slowly towards Vlad, as Jonathan moved towards Ilona. Vlad remained stock still, his eyes intent on mine, searching for any traces of deception. Ilona looked as if she were going to launch herself at me at any moment, her eyes shifting from me to Jonathan with suspicion.

“Now,” Vlad hissed. “Tell me, or I will kill you where you stand.”

“The surviving members of the Order are in Constantinople,” I said, reciting the information that Anara and Szabina had given me that morning. “That is where they are trying to recruit more followers to destroy you. There are also a dozen members in London right now, trying to prevent your attack.”

I nearly screamed as Vlad moved towards me in a flash, his cold hands pressed to the sides of my face, tilting my face up to his. He was searching my mind now. I could feel his presence there, like insects crawling beneath my skin, and I willed the rage to course through me, to keep my mind clear, to not flinch. If he sensed any sliver of deception, I was dead.

After a long and charged moment, he seemed to relax, and his dark eyes went alight with a monstrous hunger.

He believed me. It was time to strike.

“Do you trust me now, Master?” I whispered, angling my arm so that my kukri knife could slide into the palm of my hand. “We kill them, and we wipe out the last threat to you.”

But there were sudden shouts of alarm from the entrance hall—it was the other vampires.

“There are others here!”

“She has betrayed you, Master!”

“The Order is here!”

Abe and the others, I realized, panicked. They had been seen.

I heard the front doors crash open, and the mingled scents of Abe and others from our group wafted in. Immediately, the sound of scurrying bodies, snarls, and grunts filled the hall as they began to fight Vlad’s vampires.

I was momentarily frozen with terror as Vlad’s expression shifted from hunger to an animalistic rage. He was going to kill me. I had to act now.

Moving faster than I thought was even possible, I lifted my kukri and sank the blade into the base of his throat. Dark blood seeped from the gaping wound as I yanked it out, and he stumbled back with a surprised and agonized howl. I raised the blade to sink it into his chest, but he reached out to grab my wrist, his grip so tight that my bones cracked, and as I screamed in pain, I was suddenly in the air, hurled back against the far wall with such force that I nearly lost consciousness, and the room blurred around me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could dimly see that Jonathan had managed to sink his stake into the side of Ilona’s throat, but she now had him pinned to the ground, her face savage with fury as she choked the life from him.

Dazed, my entire body aching with agony, I struggled to get to my feet, but Vlad was instantly in front of me, lifting me up in the air with his hand on my throat, his eyes filled with blazing fury.

“Even if you had succeeded, this does not end with me,” he snarled. “I will finish your traitorous line.”

He yanked me down towards him, sinking his fangs into my throat. I screamed, but he held me still as he drank from me, draining me of my blood. I would soon lose consciousness. Think of something, I thought frantically. Think.

But my mind grew increasingly hazy as I was drained, and the edges of my vision began to blur and turn black. There was one last thing I could try—it was the only way I would survive. I felt a miniscule flicker of relief when I saw that he was looking at me as he drank. I weakly met his eyes, probing his mind.

I was stumbling through a forest, dizzy and weak. The flesh of my face and torso was ragged and torn by the cut of their traitorous knives; I was coated with their blood and my own. I sank to my knees and began to crawl, my rage paired with an equal amount of despair. I needed blood or I would die, and I could not allow myself to die. I was the most powerful creature in the world—the Dracula. I had to find a way. But I was too weak to continue moving, and fell onto my bleeding torso, my life’s essence draining from me.

I was released as Vlad dropped me and stumbled back, his lips stained with my blood. I swayed weakly, barely able to hold myself upright as my vision swam. Vlad stumbled to his knees, looking ill. Ilona was preoccupied with Jonathan, who had somehow managed to scramble out from beneath her, and she now had him pinned him against the wall.

My hold on consciousness was slipping. I had to strike with my little remaining strength. It would be the last thing I did before leaving this world.

With my vision still blurred and my limbs keening with pain, I managed to reach down into my bodice, yanking out a wooden stake. Vlad’s eyes were shut, his hands on his head as he shook violently. I had the perfect angle. The perfect opportunity.

I lifted my arm and launched the stake towards his chest.

You cannot miss, Anara had said. You miss, you die.

Time seemed to stand still as the stake flew from my hand and sailed through the air, landing solidly in the center of his chest—right in his heart. Vlad’s bellow of pain and fury seemed to shake the entire room, and as his eyes flew open, I removed my other kukri from my sleeve.

This was it. I had no more strength left after this. I hurled the kukri, arching it towards his neck. My eyes met his, and I hoped that he could hear the words that I screamed in my mind, words that I was too weak to speak aloud.

For my parents. Arthur. Lucy. Radu. And scores of other innocent souls.

The blade careened through the air, and when it arrived at its destination, it tore right through the tenuous flesh of Vlad’s throat, severing his head from his body, and he fell lifelessly onto the floor.

“NO!”

Ilona’s agonized wail pierced the silence, and she launched herself off of Jonathan and towards me, her eyes wild with grief and rage. I stumbled to my knees, too weak to stand or fight, feeling a strangely calm acceptance of my death. Jonathan lay still on the floor behind her, his eyes closed, his chest unmoving. I allowed myself a brief moment of grief for him before meeting Ilona’s ferocious eyes. I would go bravely to my death.

Her face was streaked with bloody tears, and when she reached me, she lowered her hand towards my chest. She was going to rip my heart out, and this time she would succeed.

But she abruptly stiffened as a wooden stake jutted through her chest from behind, her eyes widening in shock and agony. My eyes weakly lifted, and I saw Abe standing behind her. He hurled a knife that lodged solidly in the back of her skull. I watched in a daze as her skin desiccated before my eyes; the pale smooth skin wrinkling, the green eyes turning black, blood seeping from the sockets of her eyes, her nose, her mouth; her true monstrousness finally revealed beneath the shield of her beauty. She slumped sideways to the floor, still and silent.

The others raced into the room behind Abe. In the hallway outside, I could dimly see the dead bodies of the vampires who had come with Vlad and Ilona.

Abe and Gabriel dashed towards me. I was too weak to hear the words they shouted, which seemed so very far away. Abe lifted me in his arms, racing out of the drawing room.

“Burn it down!” someone—Seward?—shouted, and I could smell smoke as Abe dashed with me down the entrance hall and out of the estate.

He kept running until we were on the far edge of the estate grounds, near the towering trees. The world around me had become increasingly dim, and I felt as if I stood on the precipice of consciousness, teetering on the edge, and I had no strength to remain upright.

Abe stumbled to his knees, setting me down on the ground, his face filled with panic and anguish. He was shouting, but I could only faintly hear his words.

“She is dying! We need help! Mina, my heart, stay with me. Please. Please.”

He began to weep as he gazed into my fluttering eyes. I held them, those eyes that I knew and loved so well, glad that they would be the last thing I saw before departing, and I welcomed the darkness that claimed me.

15

Goodbye

A black void surrounded me.

In the far distance, I could hear the vague murmur of voices, faint as whispers. I felt a powerful yearning to draw closer to them, but I could not move, and the voices continued to drift in and out of my awareness like the ebb and flow of a tide on a faraway shore. I willed myself to concentrate, to hone in on the voices, until one particular voice seemed to rise above the others. It was deeply familiar, and I clung to the steady rise and fall of its cadence, until the words it spoke became clear.

“Robert once told me that he hoped I would always look out for you. He was quite perceptive. I think he knew I loved you before I did. He always had a way of seeing—”

The words faded back into that distant murmur, becoming unrecognizable once more. I desperately wanted to cry out for the voice to return, to not leave me alone in this place. But more familiar voices came into clarity, and I clung to them like a lifeline.

“You told your first governess you’d no reason ta learn embroidery—you were goin’ ta be a scientist li’ your father. You made ‘a cry . . . ’n you were just a lass o’ ten. Any other parent would’ve been furious, but Robert was only amused. After your third governess quit, he hired your first science tutor. Oh, Mina,” the voice continued, beginning to quiver. “Your father’d not want you ta drift away so soon. You’ll see your parents again one day, but not yet. Come back t’ us, bairn.”

“I never should have allowed you to take on those monsters,” a different voice said. “I’m unworthy of you, of your love. Mina, I vow to give you your freedom, to allow you to live the life you were always meant to lead, if only you would open your eyes again,” the voice broke, dissolving into heartbreaking sobs.

I wanted to respond, but I was paralyzed in the darkness, and silence surrounded me once more. I tried to seek out more voices in the deafening quiet, and I soon heard another familiar voice.

“I was quite lonely as a child,” the voice said. “I . . . hated what I was. I desperately longed to be human, and I was envious of you. You got to live with our mother, you knew your father, and you were so loved by them. My envy was so great that I did not want to watch over you, but I made her a promise. I am glad that I did. I am glad that I came to know you. Sister, you are stronger than most. Do not succumb to the darkness. Do what you do best. Fight, Mina. Fight.”

“I never wanted to marry,” that first familiar voice spoke again, the one that initially brought me out of the blackness. This time, I willed myself to hold on to it, to use it as an anchor to pull me from this dark abyss. “I could tell that my parents never loved each other, they just did what was required of them. My life was to be dedicated to study, teaching, and scientific experimentation. But then I met you, and everything changed. I . . . I love you so, Mina. Even after you broke my heart, I never stopped. Even when I learned you were engaged to Jonathan. Even after you married him. Even now. I will never stop, though I know that I must love you from afar,” the voice continued, now strained with tears. “I love you. Please, come back to me. Come back.”

I continued to cling to the voice, and realized that I could now feel. There was a firm grip on my hand, a hot breath close to my ear. I continued to hold onto the sensations, until I could hear the distant rumble of footsteps and voices, birds chirping outside of a window. I felt the cool air of a room, and a dull pain in my wrist, my ribs, my back.

The darkness dissipated, and I opened my eyes.

I was in a hospital room, lying in bed. There were bandages wrapped around my torso beneath my gown, and around my wrist. Abe sat at my bedside, one hand clutching mine, the other hand covering his face as he silently wept.

My senses were no longer heightened. Everything seemed muted now, like vibrant colors reduced to gray. But I felt relief. It meant I was no longer undergoing the transformation, and I was fully human again.

It took great effort, but I managed to squeeze his hand with my own. He stiffened, lowering his hand from his face as his tearful blue eyes met mine.

“Mina,” he whispered, the dark shadow lifting from his visage, his eyes going wide with both astonishment and relief.

I managed to give him a shaky smile, and he reached out to pull me into a gentle embrace, weeping openly now. Though my body was still sore and aching, I clung to him, flooded with relief and love. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in, grateful to be out of the darkness.

And then the memories of what happened at the estate flashed through my mind. My kukri severing Vlad’s head from his body. Ilona’s snarl of rage before Abe staked her. Jonathan’s still body. Jonathan . . .

“Jonathan,” I rasped abruptly, pulling back.

“He is alive and quite well. He was here earlier,” Abe said reassuringly. I closed my eyes, trembling with relief. “I–I should apologize, Mina. We entered the estate too soon and nearly got you both killed. It was my fault; I panicked when I saw that there was a group of vampires with Vlad. Szabina wanted us to hold off.”

“You forget that you saved my life. Ilona would have killed me,” I whispered, again reaching out to take his hand. “There is no need to apologize. I would have done the same if I feared your life was in danger.”

“I have no doubt of that,” Abe said, the corners of this mouth twitching with a smile, before he got to his feet, reluctantly releasing my hand. “The doctor should examine you. We told the staff you were both in a carriage accident,” he added, lowering his voice. I nodded with implicit understanding; I needed to uphold the lie.

Abe called for the doctor, a young man not much older than me with kind eyes. He allowed Abe to remain at my side as he gave me a cursory exam. He gently explained that after my carriage accident, I had been in a coma for a week. I had a broken wrist, sprained ribs, severe bruising around my throat, and a mild concussion. Severe blood loss caused my coma, and I had received a blood transfusion immediately upon admittance to the hospital.

“It was your husband’s suggestion that your friends talk to you in an effort to help pull you out of your coma,” the doctor said, gesturing towards Abe with a rueful smile. “I do admit that I was skeptical at first, but it appears he was right. Quite helpful having a doctor for a husband. He would have treated you himself had we allowed it, Missus Harker,” he added with a wry smile.

“I am not her husband,” Abe politely interjected. “Mina is my dearest friend. The man who was here earlier is her husband.”

The doctor flushed and hastily apologized. He completed my exam, informing me that I appeared to be healing well, but he wanted me to remain in the hospital for another day for more rest before they released me.

As soon as the doctor left us alone, I turned to Abe.

“What . . . what happened?” I asked, my voice still raspy.

“We are in a hospital in Essex. We brought you here and told the staff that both you and Jonathan had been in a carriage accident. Jonathan’s injuries were not as severe as yours. He had some bruising and blood loss, but he recovered a few days ago. He has been here at your side every day. After your transfusion, the doctor was not able to determine if—or how well—you would recover. I sent for Clara, and she has also been at your side all week. Jonathan, Clara and the others are staying at a nearby inn.”

“Vlad and Ilona’s bodies,” I whispered. “Are they—”

“We burned down the estate with their bodies inside; they all dissolved in the fire. The feral who transformed you is dead as well. You and Jonathan are no longer under the effects of the transformation. Szabina and Anara examined you both when the doctors were not nearby. Seward used his connections at Scotland Yard to have the fire declared an accident. No one outside of our group—except for Clara—knows what really happened.”

I leaned back, closing my eyes. I thought I would feel an exuberant joy at the confirmation of Vlad and Ilona’s demise. Instead, I felt a growing unease as I recalled Vlad’s words. Even if you had succeeded, this does not end with me.

“Vlad implied that there were others,” I said urgently. “What if—”

“Desperate final words,” Abe interrupted, but he avoided my eyes. “I am going to fetch Clara and your husband. Try to rest, Mina. I–I am quite relieved that you are awake.”

His behavior towards me was now oddly restrained and polite. There was no trace of the man who had made a tearful declaration of love only moments earlier.

I absently picked at the meal the nurse brought in after he left me, and I was not aware of how much time had passed until I heard a delighted squeal.

I looked up as Clara hurried into the room. She sat down on the bed and pulled me into a tight embrace, weeping. Gratitude swelled over me, and I was unable to hold back tears of my own. There had been moments during the journey when I had thought I’d never see her again.

“Mina,” she whispered tearfully. “Thank God. My prayers’ve been answered.”

She pulled back and proceeded to fuss over me, demanding that I eat all of my food. She informed me that she would make me spend a month in recovery, rather than the two weeks suggested by the doctor, and she would live with me permanently as I did so—married or not, she added. She did not inquire about any specifics of the journey, and I suspected that she didn’t want to know.

When Jonathan entered moments later, she gave him a warm smile and embrace before leaving us alone.

I took him in as he approached my bed. He still looked quite thin, his eyes shadowed with fatigue, but his color had returned and he looked like himself. He looked human.

He blinked as he returned my visual assessment, as if not quite believing I was truly awake. It wasn’t until I gave him a tentative smile and stretched my hand out towards him that he moved forward, taking a seat at my side.

“Darling,” he whispered, pulling me into his arms. “I was so frightened. I thought . . .” he trailed off, burying his face in my hair for a lengthy moment.

When he pulled away, he told me that with Abe’s help, he had explained away his disappearance to his mother. He informed her that he had a rare illness that he could only receive treatment for outside of England, and he didn’t want to worry her. I had learned of his illness after the fact and went after him, and we wed when he feared for his life, but he was cured now. Mary had been so relieved to see him alive and well that she accepted his story without too much question, and merely went silent when he told her of our marriage.

“I cannot tell you how happy I am to be holding you in my arms,” he breathed, as he pulled me into his arms once more. “What you did at the estate . . . I am in awe of you, Mina.”

He continued to hold me until the nurse entered and told him that I needed to rest. He was reluctant to leave, and gave me a tender kiss on the forehead before finally leaving the room.

In the day that followed, Gabriel, Seward, Anara, and Szabina all came to visit, praising me for my victory in killing Vlad. When I pressed them for news about any more unexplained murders or disappearances around Europe, any hint that a vampire threat still lingered, they simply urged me to focus on my recovery. But behind their warm words and smiles, there was a lingering tension, and I became certain that they were hiding something from me.

* * *

After my release from the hospital, I was moved back to my home in Highgate instead of Jonathan’s. Jonathan insisted that I should recover at my own home in familiar surroundings rather than his, and along with Abe and Gabriel, he dutifully came to visit me daily, despite Clara’s insistence that I should not receive visitors until I was fully recovered. Despite her annoyance with the frequent visits, she did seem taken with Gabriel, whose existence she had accepted with surprising alacrity. As I predicted, she was relieved that I had a new family member, even if he was a vampire, and she fussed over him nearly as much as she fussed over me whenever he came to visit.

As I rested at home, I grew increasingly edgy, hungry to know what had happened in the wake of Vlad’s death. Where had his surviving followers gone? Were any of them still in London? Clara waved off my request for newspapers, insisting that I focus on rest, and I wondered if she was hiding something as well.

Two weeks after my return home, when Abe came by for one of his visits, I’d finally had enough. I bluntly asked if he was hiding anything from me.

“Mina,” Abe warily replied, avoiding my gaze.

“Abe,” I returned, leaning forward to make him look at me. “What is happening?”

“You killed Vlad Draculesti, the Dracula. He had many passionate followers. Until we are certain you are no longer in danger, you will need to have guards. Jonathan has guards as well.”

“Guards?” I echoed in disbelief.

“Yes. Vampires,” Abe amended. “Gabriel trusts them, as do Anara and Szabina. You have fought alongside them. Do you remember Nikolaus and Kudret?” At my nod, he continued, “Gabriel followed you for years without you noticing. They will be discreet. You will hardly notice them. They have been positioned outside your home ever since your return.”

I leaned back against my chair, frowning. The thought of having guards was mildly annoying but not altogether surprising, yet I could not shake the feeling that Abe was still withholding something.

Before I could press him further, Clara entered the drawing room, trailed by Jonathan. Jonathan stiffened as he took us in, but he gave Abe a polite nod.

“I was informing Mina about your guards,” Abe said, hastily getting to his feet. “I will take my leave.”

He was gone before I could stop him, returning Jonathan’s polite nod.

“She needs ta rest, Jonathan,” Clara said crossly. “No more visitors, Mina.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her protectiveness, and she left the room with a scowl. I turned to Jonathan, giving him an apologetic look as he took a seat opposite me.

“I apologize for her. Clara’s always been protective. Since I’ve returned home . . .”

“I have seen it first hand,” Jonathan said, returning my amused smile. “She chastised all of us for visiting when you were in your coma, but I understand completely. She loves you. As do I.”

His voice was strained, and I studied him closely. His smile was forced, and he held himself with rigid tension.

“Has something happened?” I asked, worried.

“What? No, not at all,” Jonathan replied, too quickly. “I–I would love some time alone with you, and it is a lovely day out. Are you well enough to walk?”

“Yes,” I said eagerly, my unease dissipating at the thought of finally being able to leave the house. “But not very far,” I amended. “We may need to sneak out. Clara will have a fit at the mere thought of me taking a walk.”

Jonathan’s eyes twinkled with amusement. He took my hand, exaggeratedly leading me from the drawing room as if he were sneaking me out, and I couldn’t hold back my laughter.

Moments later, we were walking through the streets of Highgate, heading towards Waterlow Park. I felt cold stares on my back, and I instinctively stiffened. I glanced behind me, relaxing when I saw my two vampire guards, Nikolaus and Kudret. They gave me subtle nods.

“It will take some time to get used to,” Jonathan observed, following my eyes. “I quite enjoy my guards . . . two large and intimidating gentlemen. I’m considering using them to frighten some of my law rivals.”

I laughed, and he smiled in return, but it again seemed forced.

“Jonathan,” I said, stopping mid stride. “I can tell that something is wrong. Please tell me what it is.”

Jonathan did not immediately reply. Instead, he took my hand and led me into the park, where he sat down opposite me on a bench.

“Mina,” he said softly, after a long pause. “You don’t belong here.”

“What do you mean?” I whispered, my entire body going cold.

“What I said on the Orient Express . . . I still believe it to be true. Your place is not here with me. I think we both know that. It’s why I was so jealous when I saw you with Van Helsing at the Langham. There was a connection between the two of you that you and I have never shared, despite our love for each other. If I keep you here in London as my wife, you would grow to resent your life, and I would always feel like I was keeping you in a life that you weren’t meant for.”

“No,” I protested, feeling a hot rush of tears. “I meant what I told you on the train. My life is here with you, and—”

“I do love you,” he interrupted, his voice wavering now as his eyes swept over my face. “Which is why I’m letting you go. I know you, Mina. More than you realize. You love deeply, and you are so very loyal. You would have stayed by my side for as long as I wished . . . even at the sake of your own true happiness.”

“This is nonsense. I did not travel all the way to Transylvania to bring you home, only to lose you again,” I cried, blinking back my tears.

“I owe you my life, but I will not hold you in my debt. Search your heart, Mina.”

I looked away from him, forcing myself to think of my future in London—to truly think of it. Marrying Jonathan in an official society wedding. Participating in dinner parties, balls, the Season. Becoming a matriarch with children of my own. All the while wondering in the back of my mind about the path not taken; the life I could have lived. The sting of regret. The ever-present love for Abe lingering in my heart. And then the increasing discontent, the feeling of paralysis, of being trapped in a life I never wanted.

When I looked back at him, my vision was blurred with tears. I tried to speak, but no words came, and Jonathan read in my eyes what I could not bring myself to say aloud.

“There is no need to pretend anymore, Mina.”

He pulled me into his arms, and my tears flowed freely as I pressed my face into his chest. Letting go was an odd feeling, like leaping off the edge of a cliff. Beneath my heartache, I felt stirrings of both freedom and loss, excitement and sorrow. Though I loved Jonathan, I would never fit into his world, though I had desperately tried. The beginning of our inevitable end had been the night he was abducted from the Langham, or perhaps even before that, when Abe approached me on the street to tell me that the monster from Transylvania had come to England.

“I love you, Jonathan,” I whispered when I pulled back, taking in his handsome features, filing them away for my memories.

“And I you. I release you from this marriage, Mina. Now that you are free, I want to tell you what the others have been hiding.”

Astonishment rendered me still, and my heart did a catapult in my chest.

“Van Helsing wanted me to keep it from you, but you have a right to know, and I know that you’ve already sensed it.”

“What?” I whispered, my throat dry.

16

The Next Journey

The next morning, I awoke with a resolve that I had not felt since Jonathan’s abduction. It was barely past dawn when I opened my eyes, but I could already hear the familiar sounds of London waking up. The distant murmur of voices as merchants opened their shops and vendors set up their stalls; the knocker-uppers tapping on windows, rousing my neighbors from their slumber; the carriages clattering noisily through the streets.

I slipped out of bed, remaining in my nightdress as I padded out into the hallway and entered the various rooms of my home. I began with the library, whose oak shelves were overflowing with books, many of which I still had not read. The spacious yet intimate drawing room where I had spent much of my time reading or preparing lesson plans. The dining room where I had once hosted an awkward dinner for Mary and Jonathan. The tiny back kitchen where I often ate dinner with Clara. The two barely used guest rooms that had unfortunately come to serve as storage spaces. And finally, Father’s study.

Only weeks ago I had avoided the room, but now I welcomed the memories that swept over me as I entered, moving towards the desk where Father had spent much of his time. I recalled the scientific debates Father, Abe and I had engaged in here, the hours I had spent studying under Father’s tutelage or creating drawings for his publications, the quiet times when I would come in to read while he prepared his lessons or graded papers.

Clara found me as I was seated at Father’s desk, looking down at an old photograph of my parents and me that he’d kept in one of the drawers.

“Mina?” she asked, frowning as she entered the study. “Heard you movin’ about the house. Are you all right?”

I placed the photograph back in the drawer, turning around to meet her eyes. I gave her a sad smile.

“Yes,” I replied. “I was just saying goodbye.”

Clara stilled, her face draining of color, but she did not look wholly surprised. She moved towards me, and I stood as she reached out to pull me into an embrace.

“My bairn,” she sighed. “This is another day I knew would come.”

Pulling away from her, I told her what I had learned from Jonathan the day before.

I had sat motionless as he confirmed my suspicions about what the others were hiding from me.

“There have been more abductions in other cities and villages since you killed Vlad. Van Helsing believes that there are more leaders Vlad allied himself with, and they have followers of their own. It appears we have eliminated the threat in London—for now. Vlad’s surviving followers have fled. Anara and some of our allies went to their temporary home in Mayfair, but they had all long gone. Van Helsing and the others are presently at Gabriel’s home in Thatcham trying to determine who and where the other leaders are. The threat will not be truly over until they’re all dead.”

I was silent, reeling from his words. My dark fears had turned out to be true. Vlad was only a part of the vampire threat against the human world. I recalled Lucy’s words from weeks ago. One of the Old Families. There was the Draculesti family that was now no more. But who else was there?

“They expect us to remain in London while they continue the fight. I do belong here . . . but not you, Mina.”

He reached out to tilt my stricken face towards his, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead, and I realized that it was a goodbye kiss. My eyes again filled with tears as I was struck by my shock at his words and my heartache.

“Thank you for telling me,” I whispered. He nodded, placing a folded piece of paper into my shaking hands.

“Directions to Gabriel’s home. I don’t know how much longer they will be there—you should make haste.”

We walked back to my home in silence. Once we arrived at my front door, he raised my left hand to his lips, lovingly kissing my knuckles, and I noticed that I still wore my engagement ring, which now seemed obscenely out of place. When he released my hand, I started to slide it off, but he shook his head.

“Promise me that we’ll still be in each other’s lives. Write to me. Call on me. Please,” I whispered.

“Of course,” Jonathan replied, reaching out to touch the side of my face with tenderness. “And I shall never forget that I have a life because of you.”

I closed my eyes and leaned in to his touch, and we stood quietly for a moment before he withdrew. And then he was gone, descending the stairs and heading down the street with his hands shoved into his pockets, his head lowered, trailed by two large men who I recognized from our group––his vampire guards. I remained on my doorstep, my heart filled with a maelstrom of conflicting emotions—love, sadness, resolve, excitement. I watched him until he disappeared into a cab at the end of the street.

Now, Clara listened intently as I finished recounting what had occurred. She gave me a sympathetic smile, her eyes dropping to my now ringless hand.

“I noticed when you came in yesterday . . . wanted you ta tell me when you were ready. He was not t’man for you, my bairn.”

“I thought you liked Jonathan,” I said, surprised. “You never raised any objection to our courtship.”

“I do. He’s a good man. I could tell he loved you ‘n you seemed happy. I t’ought by marryin’ him you’d stay away from Transylvania ‘n out of danger,” she said, her eyes twinkling at the irony. “Anyone wit’ eyes can see who you should be wit’,” she added mischievously.

“Clara—”

“T’at’s all I’m going ta say,” Clara said, raising up her hands. “Let’s get you packed.”

“You’re not going to try to stop me?” I asked in disbelief. I had braced myself for her protest to my departure.

“You wouldn’t listen if I did . . . ‘n you have your brother. I like him, even if he is . . . you know,” she added hastily.

“I know,” I said, giving her an amused smile.

I washed and dressed in a comfortable lavender walking suit, and she helped me pack my trunk before we ate breakfast together. To my surprise, she asked me for details about my journey to Transylvania. I began with Lucy directing us to Transylvania under hypnosis, the attack on the Demeter, Arthur’s death, the villagers in Holland who helped us, Greta’s experiments in Amsterdam, the train derailment, the discovery of Gabriel, meeting Radu and Anara, and the revelations from Szabina about my mother. When I was finished, it took me a moment to realize that my eyes glistened with tears, and Clara reached out to cover my hand with hers.

“My brave bairn,” she murmured, her eyes also shimmering with tears.

We sat in silence for a long moment before I told her I needed to make two stops before I left, and she urged me to go, insisting that she would finish the last of my packing.

My first stop was the school. I surprised the teacher who had taken my place, a woman my age with frizzy blonde hair, gentle brown eyes and an amiable nature. She graciously paused her lesson to allow me to bid my students farewell.

Their faces fell at the news of my departure, but one student boldly asked for a final adventure story. I hesitated before glancing at the teacher, who gave me an encouraging nod.

The students listened with wide-eyed attention as I told them an amended version of the tale I told Clara—replacing vampires with wolves, omitting the more violent moments, and changing the names of all involved. When I finished, the silence was deafening.

“Did that really ‘appen, Missus?” asked young Isaac Morris, his eyes round.

“Of course it did,” I said, giving him a conspiratorial wink. I turned to look at the teacher, who was looking at me with mild disconcertion.

“Take care of them,” I said. She blinked and nodded, giving me an assuring smile.

As I left the classroom and headed down the corridor towards the exit, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Miss Murray.”

I stilled, turning to find Horace waddling towards me with his trademark scowl.

“I overheard you telling the children another one of—”

“There is no need to scold me, Mister Welling. I’m leaving my post.”

I initially had no intention of telling him of my resignation in person, and I’d written a letter that was to be sent to him after I departed London. I felt no desire to see the look of pleasure on his face when I resigned, and I was irritated that I would now to be forced to do so.

But Horace stiffened, actually looking disappointed by my news. He must have had the hope of sacking me himself.

“Good,” he said. “I would have gladly released you from your post myself. You still violated our agreement by plying the children with another of those nonsensical stories. Therefore, I will have to begin discussions about funding for the class.”

“What?” I breathed, horrified.

“You heard me,” he said, looking quite pleased by my reaction. “I—”

But he faltered, his eyes straying to something behind me, and I turned.

Nikolaus and Kudret had entered the corridor behind me. Though they were dressed like London gentlemen, there was no denying their otherworldly nature, and they looked like dark avenging angels as they loomed at the end of the corridor. Abe was right; I had almost forgotten that they were shadowing me.

I turned back to face Horace, whose focus remained on the two vampires, looking absolutely terrified.

“Mina,” Kudret said from behind me. “Are you all right?”

“What were you saying, Horace?” I asked coolly, struggling to suppress a smile of relief.

“I . . . ah—” he faltered, his eyes still on the vampires behind me. “I wish you the best. Thank . . . thank you for your work here.”

“And I thank you,” I returned. “I hope not to hear of anything happening to this class or the students. Otherwise, my friends will be quite upset.”

“Of . . . of course not,” Horace said, taking a faltering step backwards as Nikolaus and Kudret stepped forward to flank me, never taking their eyes from his pale face.

I thanked them once we left the school, smiling as I recalled the look on Horace’s face.

We took the Underground back to Highgate, and I made my way to Highgate Cemetery. Nikolaus and Kudret lingered behind as I walked ahead of them, taking the familiar path to my parents’ graves.

I kneeled down in front of their headstones. It was odd visiting here, now that I knew their many secrets. But I no longer felt any bitterness towards them, only a calm acceptance. I understood why they wouldn’t want me to know of the hidden world of vampires; it was a world filled with evil and constant danger. But now that I was well aware of it, there would be no going back, and I had been foolish to think otherwise.

I have avenged your deaths, I said silently, reaching out to touch their engraved names. I understand that you wanted to protect me, but I must prevent more deaths.

When I returned home, my trunk was completely packed. Clara’s eyes brimmed with a fresh wave of tears as we embraced farewell.

“What did you say to Abe when we left the first time?” I asked when I pulled away from her, struck by the memory from weeks ago.

“I told him I know how much he loves you, and ta keep you safe,” Clara replied, with a knowing smile.

During the brief train journey to Thatcham, my thoughts drifted to Abe. Abe, who had never been far from my thoughts, even during the years of our separation. Abe, whose voice had brought me back from the brink of death. Abe, whom I loved—whom I had always loved.

When I arrived at Gabriel’s home, a sprawling brick farmhouse on the outskirts of Thatcham, Nikolaus and Kudret trailed me inside the unlocked front door. As soon as we entered, I heard the rise of familiar voices from the drawing room at the end of the entrance hall.

“He only wants to go to Amsterdam because his bloody lab is there,” Seward was protesting. “We’re surrounded by vampires. We don’t need any more experiments, Abe. What we need is to find these—”

“That is not why I want to go back,” Abe interjected. “Greta has done extensive research in the library, and she has more—”

“She can wire us any information she has,” Seward said. “Going back to Amsterdam isn’t needed when—”

He fell silent, blinking at me in astonishment as I entered the large drawing room that was filled with familiar faces. Abe, Seward, Gabriel, Anara, and Szabina. They were all seated in chairs or standing around the unlit fireplace.

At the sight of them, I was filled with warmth. I hadn’t realized how much I missed this group of humans and vampires.

The silence stretched as they all took me in, agape. Szabina and Seward slowly broke into broad smiles. Anara remained stoic, though I glimpsed a flicker of pleasure in her eyes. Gabriel frowned with concern, while Abe looked bewildered.

“I suggest we go to Matford,” I said calmly. “My father’s family has a country home there that was left to him. Do you remember it, Abe? He only used it when he needed time away from London to work on his publications.”

My words seemed to tear Abe from his shock, and he lurched to his feet, his eyes straying accusingly towards my guards.

“Yes, I remember, but we are not using it because you are not coming with us. What are you doing here? Where is your husband?”

“He is in London, and I am coming with you,” I said. “We can’t stay here. It’s not safe. Matyas knows of Gabriel, and I have no doubt that he can find out where he lives. The home in Matford can accommodate us before we move on to our next destination. Father kept much of his research there. We know he was researching vampires. There may be something of use to us there.”

“No,” Abe said. “It is far too dangerous for you to come with us, I have explained why. Vlad’s remaining followers will be hunting for you. Surely, your husband does not want you to put—”

“Jonathan and I have ended our marriage,” I evenly replied. “He’s the one who told me of your plans.”

Another silence fell over the group, and they all exchanged uncomfortable looks at my news. A flicker of some emotion I could not identify passed over Abe’s face before it was gone again, and he looked away.

“You barely survived your encounter with Vlad and Ilona,” Gabriel spoke up, stepping forward. “It’s not safe for you to—”

“It’s not safe for anyone until we find and kill Vlad’s allies,” I interrupted.

“Haven’t either of you learned?” Seward asked, rising to his feet. “It’s best not to argue with Mina when she’s made up her mind.”

“Thank you, Seward,” I said.

“Mina Harker, the infamous killer of the Dracula,” Seward continued, giving me a wry smile. “Of course, she can join us.”

“Mina Murray,” Abe corrected him, looking cross. “She just informed us she is no longer married.”

“Murray, Harker—doesn’t matter. My sentiment still stands. Wouldn’t be a proper journey without you, Mina,” Seward said, looking at me with unwavering sincerity.

“I wanted to tell you all along,” Szabina said, meeting my eyes. “Mina is a part of this,” she said, addressing the others. “She has always been a part of this.”

“I agree,” Anara added, giving me an affirming nod.

Abe and Gabriel were the only ones who still looked turbulent, but I turned my focus to Abe.

“May I speak with you privately?” I asked.

We left the room as everyone’s voices again rose in debate, as if I had not interrupted at all. We entered the kitchen directly across the hall, and once we were alone, I closed the gap between us, standing on tiptoe to press my lips against his.

For a moment, he stiffened with surprise, then fervently returned my kiss, his arms encircling my body to hold me close. For the first time since he approached me on the street in the East End, I didn’t suppress the rush of love I felt for him, and allowed it to flow through every part of me, like a caged bird finally set free.

When we broke apart, we were breathless, and I remained in the circle of his arms.

“I’ve been hiding for so long,” I whispered. “I heard every word you said when I was coming out of my coma. I love you, Abraham Van Helsing. I’ve never stopped. Jonathan knew. I think he’s always known, even when I didn’t allow myself to.”

“I thought I had lost you,” Abe tremulously replied. “I–I was prepared to live without you. To love you from afar.”

“You don’t have to. Not anymore. We’ve lost so much time,” I said, with a sharp sting of regret. “I felt so guilty after Father died that I pushed you away.”

“It is in the past. There is no need to dwell on regret,” he said. He straightened, intently searching my eyes. “Are you prepared to leave your life in London behind? Your students? Clara?” He hesitated, before adding, “Jonathan?”

“Yes,” I replied. “My life has never truly been in London . . . I was just hiding there. You forced me out of hiding.”

“Me—and vampires,” Abe added ruefully, his lips twitching with a smile.

“And vampires,” I amended, with a small grin.

His arms tightened around me, and I rested my head against his chest, grateful to share a brief moment of happiness before we returned to the perilous undertaking of saving the human world.

* * *

The next morning, as the sun began its leisurely ascent above the horizon, we all mounted the horses in the back stables. The night before, we had finally agreed that my father’s home in Matford would indeed be our first destination. Matford was not far from Thatcham, and as there was no direct train connection, we had decided to travel there on horseback.

I was the first to ride my horse out of the stables. The air was much clearer here than in London, and I breathed it in. It was damp with early morning dew, and a slight chill clung to it. My eyes swept over the distant green countryside, periodically dotted by lone farmhouses, illuminated by the slowly rising sun.

Abe and the others trotted out of the stables on their horses, bringing them to a stop alongside mine. I turned to regard our makeshift family of humans and vampires. My gaze lingered on Abe, who gave me an encouraging nod and a loving smile. It was time to leave.

I turned back to face the countryside. Gripping the reins of my horse, I leaned forward to ride away from the farmhouse, with Abe at my side and the others trailing behind us, towards whatever lay ahead.

THE END
of

FORTRESS OF BLOOD

“The bright day is done, and we are for the dark.”

— William Shakespeare

1

Blood Plague

I stepped out onto the terrace, breathing in the damp night air. Darkness hovered over the surrounding countryside like a heavy and ominous cloud; even the distant trees appeared menacing. The dark had never bothered me before, but after the events of the past few weeks, it now seemed foreboding.

Sensing a presence behind me, my body instinctively tensed, my hand reaching for the handle of my ever-present kukri knife, which was stuffed securely into my bodice. I whirled, but it was only Abraham Van Helsing, an apologetic smile tugging at the corners of his generous mouth.

“I seem to always frighten you, my heart,” he said.

I relaxed, returning his smile. He was referring to an incident weeks ago, when he had stealthily followed me through the streets of London’s East End to warn me of the looming vampire threat in the city.

Abe approached, leaning down to press a loving kiss to my lips before enfolding me in his arms. I rested my head on his chest, expelling an anxious sigh.

“I fear I will always be on edge,” I whispered. I still had nightmares about my confrontation with Vlad and Ilona Draculesti, the creatures who had abducted my former fiancé, Jonathan Harker. The violent encounter had nearly left me dead.

“I understand,” Abe said, his voice soft with compassion. “But that will not always be the case.”

Before I could respond, heated voices rose from inside the house.

“They are still bickering,” he said, with an irritated glance at the back door. “I do not blame you for needing to step out.”

Our small group of allies had been gathered at my late father’s country home for a week now; where to go next had become a topic of much debate. Vlad Draculesti had come close to unleashing his army of newborn vampires on London. We had successfully killed him and his sister, Ilona, the last members of the Draculesti family. But in the weeks that followed, vampire attacks all over Europe had continued. We’d discovered there were other vampire leaders who remained—Aurel Skala and Elizabeth Bathory, who had legions of their own followers. As long as Skala and Bathory were alive, the vampire threat against the human world remained.

“We need to make a decision—and soon,” I said, with a worried frown. The morning newspaper had mentioned two outbreaks of a strange illness in multiple cities—Warsaw, Bucharest, Sofia, and Prague. The article referred to it as a ‘blood plague’, but we knew what was truly happening. Vampires were attacking and transforming humans—likely at the behest of Skala and Bathory.

“I agree,” Abe replied. He turned, leading me back to the house. “Come back inside…you should not be out here alone. It is not safe,” he added, glancing at the surrounding countryside with unease.

“I’m only steps away from the door,” I protested.

“You came close to drawing your weapon just now,” Abe pointed out, closing the door behind us as we entered the back hall. “Please—do not fight me on this. Vlad still has loyal followers out there…they will want revenge on the human woman who killed him.”

I fell silent as we made our way down the hallway towards the drawing room; he was right about Vlad’s followers. Abe drew me close to his side, and a surge of both love and desire flowed through me at his proximity. Abe and I had been lovers years ago, but after my father’s tragic death, we parted ways. After I became engaged to Jonathan, I thought I’d never see him again. It was only during our journey to Transylvania that I realized my love for Abe had never dissipated. Though I’d loved Jonathan, my feelings for Abe had been a constant magnetic pull back towards him. Jonathan had sensed the depth of my feelings for Abe and ended our engagement. Abe and I had only tentatively begun a new relationship, but it seemed as if no time had passed at all, and we were still those same lovers from years ago.

Hand in hand, we entered the drawing room. Anara stood opposite Jack Seward, glaring at him, while Szabina hovered between them as an intermediary. My half-brother, Gabriel, leaned against the unlit fireplace, warily rubbing his temples. Gabriel looked up, his features softening with relief at the sight of me.

There had been several other vampires in our group, including Nikolaus and Kudret, who had served as my temporary bodyguards during my recovery. Szabina had sent them away to seek out more vampire allies who could help us defeat the remaining vampire leaders. They wanted to find members of the Order of the Dragon, an alliance of vampires and humans who once worked together to maintain order amongst vampires. The Order had largely been disbanded, but we hoped to find any surviving members who were willing to join us.

“Mina—thank Christ,” Seward said, as soon as I stepped inside the room. “Do you not think it’s worthwhile to at least warn the police in other cities that a bloody vampire invasion may occur? I was able to warn Scotland Yard—in a way. The police could at least help—“

“Human fear never serves any purpose,” Anara interrupted. “Humans cannot take on powerful vampires. Vampires are far stronger—“

“I’m aware that vampires are stronger than humans—you don't need to keep reminding me,” Seward said, between clenched teeth. “Us mere humans also have the right to protect ourselves.”

“What about a compromise?” I interjected. “Seward can warn the police to be on the lookout for suspicious persons. We all know they wouldn’t believe him if he even said the word ‘vampire.’ And we can keep seeking more vampire allies. It does not need to be one over the other. Are we in agreement?”

Seward and Anara grudgingly fell silent, continuing to glare at each other, but the others nodded.

“That is what the rest of us tried to suggest,” Szabina said. Along with Gabriel, Szabina had become the peacemaker of our group. She looked relieved to have the conflict resolved. “Let us cease our discussions for the night. The humans need to rest.”

Everyone obliged her and began to disperse. Gabriel approached me with a disapproving frown.

“You should have told one of us you were planning to step out. It is not safe for you to be alone.”

“Gabriel— “ I began, with a renewed rush of irritation. But I stopped myself when I saw the genuine worry in his eyes. I had slowly come to care for my half-brother. Unbeknownst to me, my mother had entrusted him with my safety before she died, and he took the task quite seriously. “I’m sorry. I just needed some air. I wouldn’t have gone far.”

The tension in Gabriel’s body dissipated; he’d expected me to argue with him.

“I don’t mean to be cross with you, Mina. I just worry.”

“I know,” I said, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “I will try my best not to give you cause. But I cannot make any promises.”

He smiled at my jest, bidding me goodnight before he left the drawing room with the others.

Together, Abe and I made our way upstairs. He walked me to my guest room, where he kissed me chastely before heading off to his own room. I watched him go with longing. Abe and I had yet to consummate our rekindled relationship. We had been too preoccupied with preparing our next move against the remaining vampire leaders; our desire for each other had not gone beyond a few passionate kisses.

Now, as I watched him head to his room, a memory from long ago of our bodies amorously entwined filled my mind. But I willed away my erotic thoughts as I changed into my nightdress. Abe was preoccupied by our upcoming journey, and I needed to sleep. My nightmares made it difficult for me to sleep throughout the night; fatigue had caught up to me.

Yet sleep remained elusive. I finally crawled out of bed, padding over to the corner desk, where I’d left one of my father’s journals. This journal had been missing from my home in London. I’d found it tucked away in a box in the attic not long after we’d arrived here. It contained just what I’d suspected: Father’s detailed observations and theories about vampires. He must have moved it here before his final journey to Transylvania to keep it away from me.

Had I found the journal before his death or even weeks ago, I would have found the details shocking. But it contained what we now already knew; evidence of the existence of vampires from multiple eyewitnesses, and Father’s theories about the vampire threat on the human world.

There was one part of the journal I’d not yet read. In the back was a letter, carefully tucked away in the back pages. Father must have known that I’d one day discover the journal, as it was addressed to me. I’d been reluctant to read it, for fear of the grief that might arise from his words.

I expelled a breath, removing the letter from the back pages. I moved over to the window, using the illumination from the moonlight that filtered in to read.

My dearest Mina,

If you have found this letter, it means you are now very aware of vampires. I am sorry to have kept so much from you; you must understand how much I fear for you, how much I desire to protect you. I would urge you not to pursue this dangerous matter any further, but I know you well. You are likely on your way to Transylvania as you read this now. If you must go, take Abraham with you. He will keep you safe. Make use of your self-defense training; this is why I insisted on you taking those lessons. Use the knowledge you have obtained from this journal wisely.

If I am not with you now…please know how much I love you. Though you and Abraham have tried to hide it from me, I know that you love each other deeply. This brings me great comfort, the knowledge that you and Abraham shall have each other if I am gone.

I fear dark times are ahead. I would urge you to focus on the light in the darkness, on the one thing that makes humanity worth fighting for: love.

Love always,

Your father

Reading the letter was like my father speaking directly to me from the grave. I pressed the letter to my chest. I will defeat the monsters for you, Father, I promised. I will end this war.

Blinking back my tears, I placed the letter back in the journal before making my way to Abe’s room. The door was ajar, and I peered inside. Abe was wide awake, seated at a corner desk, scribbling furiously in his journal by the dim light of a gas lamp. His chestnut hair fell haphazardly over his brow, his blue eyes intense with concentration as he wrote. As I studied him, another great swell of love for him arose in my chest, followed by an immense fear. What we were about to embark upon was even more dangerous than our previous journey, when we had raced from London to rescue Jonathan. We were now setting out to kill the two most powerful vampires in Europe—perhaps in the world. We had lost many allies during our previous journey. I could not bear to lose Abe, especially now that we’d just found our way back to each other.

Abe must have sensed my eyes on him, because he looked up, his entire face lighting up at the sight of me. His expression faltered when he saw the anxiety on my face.

“Mina?” he asked cautiously, getting to his feet.

“I—can’t sleep,” I said. There was no need to confess my fears about his safety; he would only issue reassurances that would do nothing to soothe my unease.

“We are both in similar predicaments,” he said, gesturing towards the open journal. “I have been writing down everything I know about the progression of mass epidemics and ways to prevent them…but it is difficult to compare bacterial plagues with vampirism. Studying plagues is perhaps not the most efficient way of getting to sleep,” he added, with a rueful smile

“No,” I agreed, returning his smile as I entered the room. “Perhaps we can lull each other to sleep.”

Moments later, we both slid into his bed, Abe’s arms wrapped securely around me from behind.

“I finally read Father’s letter,” I whispered, after a brief pause. “He knew that we loved each other.”

“Robert was always perceptive,” Abe replied. I could hear the smile in his voice, along with a hint of grief. “I had a difficult time hiding my love for you.”

“I was the one who couldn’t stop blushing around you,” I reminded him, smiling at the memory.

We fell silent once more, lost in our thoughts of the past. Abe’s comforting proximity soon lulled me to sleep.

But in my dreams, I once again saw Vlad’s face, crinkled and gnarled in death, his fangs bared as he hissed my greatest fear.

My allies will kill everyone you love.

2

Destruction

When I awoke the next morning, Abe was already gone. I could hear the deep timbre of his voice mingling with the others’ downstairs. I climbed out of bed and padded to my room, where I washed and changed into a comfortable blue afternoon dress, securing my hair in a bun before making my way down to the dining room.

I found it empty; though three plates of muffins and fruit alongside a pot of tea had been set out on the table. I’d temporarily dismissed the household staff my father’s family employed to care for the house and its grounds, paying them extra wages on top of the ones they already earned to keep silent about our presence here. I barely knew Father’s family and didn’t care to; they’d turned their back on him when he chose to pursue a career in science rather than the family business of finance, and his death hadn’t seemed to cause them much grief. Though Father officially left the home to me in his will, his family maintained it, and they wouldn’t be happy if they knew I was using it as a temporary hideaway.

The only staff member who remained was the cook, an elderly woman with kind eyes named Margaret, who came by several times a day to prepare our meals before leaving without a word. She’d maintained such a quiet presence that I’d barely seen her during the past week. She must have been curious about why we were here, but asked no questions, and only gave me polite smiles whenever I caught a rare glimpse of her.

I poured myself a cup of tea and left the dining room to approach the study, where I heard muted voices behind the closed door.

My friends all looked up when I entered. They were standing around a large map that was spread out over the center table. Abe stepped around the table to approach, leaning down to kiss me.

"I did not want to wake you," he murmured. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes,” I lied, my gaze sliding to the group. “What’s the map for?”

“We may have a way of finding Aurel Skala,” Szabina said, as I approached the table. “I know I should have mentioned this earlier…but I had hoped to keep her out of this. A friend of mine from long ago was turned vampire by Skala. Her name is Rosalind. She lives just outside of Berlin. Skala turned her against her will, and she has hated him ever since…she wants nothing to do with him or this war. But she may be able to direct us to his location.”

“If she hates him, how can you be certain she knows Skala’s location?” I asked.

“Children of vampires can detect their makers,” Szabina replied. “They are linked by blood. Remember when you underwent the transformation back in Budapest? You were able to hear Vlad in your mind.”

Only weeks ago I’d voluntarily undergone the Change to lure Vlad to us, so that we could kill him. Now, I recalled with a shudder the sensation of Vlad’s voice in my mind.

“There have been quite a few vampire attacks in Berlin,” Szabina continued. “It is likely that Skala or Bathory have unleashed their vampires in the city…which may mean they are nearby.”

“If they are,” Anara said, her eyes glittering with the promise of violence. “We will kill them there.”

“It is the best plan we have,” Abe said. “We must make haste. I suggest we take the first train that departs tomorrow for Berlin.”

Szabina left to go to a nearby post town to collect additional weapons that Abe had ordered from Amsterdam, and to arrange for our train tickets. Once she was gone, Abe, Seward and I sat down to eat breakfast, though I barely had an appetite. Now that a potential confrontation with Skala loomed ahead of us in Berlin, Vlad’s ghostly words from my nightmare swirled through my mind. After nibbling on a muffin, I pushed away my plate. I knew that I couldn’t dissuade Abe from continuing on this perilous journey, but perhaps I could deter Seward.

"Are you quite certain you want to come with us, Seward?" I asked. "Scotland Yard may need your assistance with any—“

“Have you gone mad?” Seward asked, looking at me with disbelief. “Of course I do. I finish what I start. And,” he added, giving me a sly smile, “perhaps ridding Europe of evil vampires will help me get a bloody promotion.”

I forced myself to return his smile, taking a sip of my tea. Abe’s perceptive gaze was intent; he knew exactly what I was trying to do.

“We all know how dangerous this is, my heart. The only way to stop these monsters is to find and kill them. We have no choice,” he said.

“I know,” I said, not meeting his eyes. “What do we know about Bathory or Skala?”

“Akin to the Draculesti family, the Skalas and Bathorys were ancient families of powerful vampires whose power declined over time,” Abe replied. “Szabina informed me that Elizabeth Bathory is quite old—older than Vlad Draculesti or Aurel Skala—and she has more loyal followers. Though she must be quite powerful, she has a tendency to avoid physical conflict and has her followers do much of her work for her—they even bring her victims to feed upon. I suspect it will be more difficult to track her down. Skala, however, is younger and more impulsive. Much like Vlad.”

“Yet Skala is more vicious than Vlad,” Anara said, entering the dining room with Gabriel. “My father told me tales of his savagery. He takes great pleasure in causing others pain—human or vampire. He does not kill for sustenance; he draws out the deaths of his victims for enjoyment. From what I’ve heard, he teaches his followers to do the same.”

"We heard similar tales of Vlad and Ilona’s cruelty,” I said, attempting to keep my voice steady in spite of my fear. “We were still able to kill them.”

“Yes,” Anara conceded, taking a seat at the far end of the table. “But Skala is not Vlad. Vlad sought power; Skala seeks…” she trailed off, searching for the right word, “destruction.”

* * *

The rest of the day passed swiftly as we made arrangements for our departure, packing our few belongings along with the weapons Szabina had picked up in town—knives, stakes, and capsules of aconite to douse them with.

During lunch, we discussed the precautions we’d take during the journey. Both Gabriel and Abe insisted that if we were to come under attack by vampires, I should stand back and allow everyone else to fight and get myself to safety.

“I know it isn’t in your nature to let others fight for you,” Gabriel said, when I started to protest. “But you became a target the moment you sliced Vlad Draculesti’s head from his body.”

By the time evening fell, I was exhausted from the discussions and preparations for our journey. Craving some quiet and solitude, I headed into the library with a mug of tea.

Szabina was in the library, her petite body perched on an armchair as she gazed out the window at the darkening countryside. She started to rise when I entered, but I gestured for her to remain seated.

“Stay,” I insisted. “I’ll go into the study.”

“No. Sit with me,” Szabina said, gesturing towards the armchair opposite her. “Please.”

I obliged her, sitting down and placing my tea on the side table.

“Are you nervous about going to Germany?” she asked, her vivid hazel eyes probing mine.

I knew what lurked beneath the surface of her question. I looked away from her discerning gaze. During our time in Transylvania, she’d revealed the true identity of my mother, whom I had known as Eva Murray. My mother’s true name was Isabel Ghyslaine, one of the last descendants of a family that had once been fierce vampire hunters before they’d changed their ways and became their allies instead. She’d been a member of the Order of the Dragon. Along with other members of the Order, she’d attempted to kill Vlad Draculesti. They had failed, and many were killed in retaliation, including my mother, who’d been tortured and killed in the German countryside by Vlad’s followers.

I had been to Germany before, on research trips with Father and Abe, but that was before I knew how my mother had truly died.

“Yes,” I admitted. “But it is necessary. We need to find the other vampire leaders. If you believe Rosalind can help, then we must try.”

“I do,” Szabina said. “She despises Skala for turning her. She used to hate being vampire and longed to be human again. I had to prevent her from taking her own life in the early days.”

I blinked at Szabina in disbelief. Besides Gabriel, I had yet to meet a vampire who seemed to hate what he was.

“What changed?” I asked.

“I do not know. She somehow found the will. The last time I corresponded with her, she seemed quite happy,” Szabina replied.

“When was that?”

“Fifty human years,” Szabina replied, and I stifled a gasp of surprise. Though I’d become used to both the presence and existence of vampires, their concept of time was still astonishing.

“I understand Rosalind’s feeling towards her maker. I was also changed against my will,” Szabina said, speaking so quietly that I had to strain to hear her.

“Oh, Szabina,” I whispered, my heart filling with sympathy. I only knew about snippets of Szabina’s long life—she had lived among her people the Romani when she was human, she had been friends with my mother, and she had been a member of the Order of the Dragon.

“It was a man whom I loved very much, but I was deceived. I did not know he was vampire when I fell in love with him. He enjoyed deceiving human women…it was a game to him, turning them vampire against their will. My people knew of vampires, but when I underwent the Change, my human family turned against me. I was left to fend for myself.”

“How?” I breathed. During the brief period of time when I was under transformation to vampire, disorientation had consumed my senses. But I had my friends—both human and vampire—to help me at the time. I couldn’t imagine being on my own as a full-fledged newborn vampire.

“I did not do so well on my own,” Szabina whispered, her face haunted. “I was…so hungry. I did not understand my hunger at first, how to control it. I had only been vampire for a few weeks when I stumbled upon a village. I found a cottage—there was a young woman who lived there alone. I had not eaten for days. I could not control myself. I fell on her, and—“ Szabina stopped, shutting her eyes, blood tears streaking down her face. “Since that day…nearly three hundred years ago, I have not taken blood from a human. I have never forgiven myself for taking a human life.”

“You were a newborn, you were alone. You didn’t know—“

“It does not matter. I was filled with guilt and shame. Had I not stumbled upon a village of vampires, I would have let myself starve to death rather than kill another human. They took me in and I lived among them for quite some time. Eventually I came to know about the Order of the Dragon—I met Radu and other vampires who did not wish to harm humans. I vowed to live my life with kindness. Still…I hear that woman’s screams.”

Szabina began to weep, pressing her hand against her mouth. I stood and moved over to her, kneeling down to place my hand over her cold one until her tears subsided.

“I’ve only known you briefly, but you are one of the kindest creatures—human or vampire—that I’ve been acquainted with. It is the sum of our actions which define us, Szabina. Not single ones.”

She seemed grateful for my words, and we sat in companionable silence for several moments, watching the shadows of the countryside lengthen into complete darkness as night fell.

It was soon time to retire, and I left Szabina in the library after she insisted that she was fine.

But I was far too restless to sleep. I decided to seek out my brother to accompany me on a walk around the house before I retired for the night.

I didn’t find him anywhere inside, so I headed towards the back terrace, where I heard muffled voices. I opened the door to the terrace and froze.

Seward and Anara were in each other’s arms, locked in a passionate kiss. They hastily broke apart when I stepped out. Seward looked embarrassed, flushing a deep red, while Anara avoided my gaze.

“I—I wanted to take a walk,” I stammered. I was astonished. Seward and Anara had been bickering the entire time we were here, with no hint of romantic desire between them.

“I will accompany you,” Gabriel said, from behind me. Seward and Anara looked grateful for his interruption and hastily dispersed.

“Did you know about them?” I asked, as we made our way down the path that circled the house. “I thought they hated each other.”

“No, but it is hardly surprising. You and Abe bicker more than you realize, but you clearly belong together,” Gabriel said, his lips twitching with amusement.

“That’s not—“ I started to protest, but I fell silent. It was true.

“My adoptive parents often bickered,” Gabriel said. “It was never serious; I could tell how much they loved each other. Sometimes passionate feelings reveal themselves through conflict.”

“What about you?” I asked, giving him a teasing smile. “Have you bickered with someone you’ve cared for?”

Gabriel flushed but did not respond, tactfully avoiding my gaze. I immediately felt guilty for my probing question. Gabriel had not indicated any romantic partners in his past, though I’d wondered if there was anyone. I could tell my question had caused him discomfort, so I dropped my query.

Instead, I focused on our serene surroundings; the air was fragrant with the scent of roses from the front garden, the path in front of us was illuminated by moonlight, and the night sky was blanketed with stars.

A sharp frost suddenly pierced my skin, and I went still. I knew the feeling well; it was the sensation of vampiric eyes on me. It didn’t come from Gabriel, who was staring straight ahead, and I’d long become accustomed to the feel of his gaze.

Gabriel halted, reaching out to grab my arm as he sniffed the air. He had sensed the same thing.

Another vampire was near; watching from the shadows.

3

Rage and Bloodlust

Gabriel gripped my arm, and in an instant we were back inside the house, standing in the back hall.

“Come quickly!” he shouted.

All at once, Abe and the others rushed into the hall, their faces taut with alarm.

“Take Mina to the attic,” Gabriel said to Abe, pushing me towards him. “There’s a vampire lurking out there. I do not recognize the scent.”

The vampires were out of the back door in a flash of movement. Seward hurried to the door, locking it behind them as he reached for both his revolver and the wooden stake he had secured in his back pocket.

“I’ll keep watch,” Seward said to Abe.

I wanted to fight alongside everyone else, but I knew better than to protest as Abe took me by the arm and led me to the attic. Once we were crouched inside its dusty interior, panic seized control of me. I didn’t realize I was shaking until Abe pulled me into his arms. Was one of Vlad’s surviving ferals lurking outside? A group of them—an army? There were only six of us. What if my friends were all slaughtered before we even departed from England?

It was the sharp knock at the door and Gabriel’s voice that pulled me from my fearful reverie.

“It is safe…you can come out.”

“No one—human or vampire—was out there. We searched thoroughly,” Gabriel said, as Abe and I joined the others in the back hall moments later. “We should take up post around the house as a precaution. Abe—I don’t want my sister to sleep alone tonight,” Gabriel added.

Another surge of irritation hit me; I was weary of everyone treating me like a delicate flower. But I kept silent as Abe pulled me close to his side.

“Of course,” he replied.

Later, as I lay awake in Abe’s arms, neither his presence nor the knowledge that the others were outside, calmed me. It was unlikely that the sensation of eyes on me had been nothing; Gabriel had also sensed something amiss. Who had been watching us?

* * *

I was still on edge the next morning as I packed my belongings into a small bag. Remnant worry over who had been watching us last night, paired with nervous anticipation of our journey dominated my thoughts.

Once I’d packed my bag, I walked through the spacious rooms of the country home that had been our refuge for the past week. I’d only come here a few times as a child and then as a young woman with Father. I’d always found the home too grand for my tastes, with its expensive decor and oversized rooms. It never felt as warm and welcoming as our Highgate home in London.

The pull of nostalgia still tugged at me as I moved from room to room, lingering in the study where I made some of my first drawings for Father’s publications, the drawing room where we’d sit to read in companionable silence, the upstairs library where I’d bury myself in Father’s various books that he had shipped over from Cambridge. The memory of Father was like a ghost that haunted every room. I thought of his letter, and tears sprang to my eyes.

“Are you thinking of him too?”

I turned to find Abe standing by the doorway of the study, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat, his eyes heavy with sadness as they swept over the room.

I nodded, wiping away my tears. He approached, slipping his arm around my waist and pulling me close.

“I never came here…but I can feel your father’s presence,” he murmured.

“I miss him every day,” I whispered, leaning my head against his shoulder.

“I know. I miss him as well.”

We stood in silence for a few moments, until Gabriel came to fetch us to leave.

Szabina, Anara, and Gabriel rode around me in a protective flank as our horses galloped away from the house. The air outside was heavy with a dense fog, and I could taste the salty dew of the air. The fog seemed to thicken the further we got away from the house; soon I could barely see the countryside in front of me.

My horse suddenly became restless. I frowned, tightening my grip on the reins, when the chill of a vampire’s gaze pierced my skin. Only this time…I sensed multiple gazes.

Panicked, I looked at the others. They must have sensed the other vampires as well, because Szabina, Anara, and Gabriel drew their horses in closer to mine, shouting for Abe and Seward to fall back.

I stilled when I saw several figures racing towards us through the fog up ahead. They were on foot, and appeared like shadows, their forms mere silhouettes…until they became horrifyingly clear.

It was a group of six feral vampires. Their skin was white and pulled taut over their bones, their eyes ranging from shades of blood red to pitch black. Their fangs were bared as they raced forward. All of their fierce gazes were trained on me.

“Get my sister away from here!” Gabriel cried, leaping from his horse. I wanted to fight alongside the others, but knew that I’d only distract them and get in the way. I turned to steer my horse away as Abe drew his horse alongside mine. He reached over to pull me from my horse and onto his own, while I yanked my kukri from my bodice. Seward pulled up next to us, clutching his revolver, his face pale with fear.

“I will follow you,” Seward shouted. “Go!”

Abe galloped away. I held on tightly to his waist as we dashed away from the fray behind us. Abe’s horse abruptly reared back with a neigh, tossing us from its saddle. Behind us, I heard Seward’s startled cry and the shots of his revolver.

My kukri flew from my hand as Abe and I landed in a heap on the ground. I sat up, my body aching from the fall, searching through the fog for my weapon. A feral landed on the ground in front of Abe, who still looked dazed, and I screamed as he yanked Abe up off the ground, sinking his teeth into his neck.

“Abe!” I cried, stumbling to my feet, but I was knocked flat on my back by another feral, his breath acrid and hot on my face as he glared down at me with wild red eyes, baring his fangs.

Ignoring my revulsion and fear, I reached up to grip the sides of his cold clammy face, peering into his soulless eyes, into the mind of the human that was trapped somewhere inside.

I stood on the rocky shores of a beach, watching curiously as a small empty boat drifted to shore. I moved closer, freezing when I saw that it wasn’t empty after all. A tall dark figure unfurled from the deck like a snake, leaping onto the shore. It was a man—or it appeared to be a man—and he lunged at me, pinning me to the ground, his mouth opening to reveal a row of animalistic fangs.

The feral stilled, the red eyes fading to a very human-looking brown. He loosened his grip on me, blinking in confusion.

“Who were you?” I whispered, holding his eyes with mine. “When you were human, who—“

A wooden stake suddenly jutted through his neck from behind, and the feral slumped forward, dead. Abe shoved him off of me, pulling me to my feet. His neck was bleeding; he looked shaken.

“Are you all right?” he whispered, cupping my face.

Reeling, I nodded, looking down at the still body of the feral. I’d seen a small glimpse of the humanity that remained in the feral, I was certain of it. If Abe hadn’t killed him, would I have been able to speak with him? To remind him of who he truly was?

Seward approached, his revolver and a bloody stake in his hands. We all stayed close together as we moved through the fog towards our vampire companions.

They were already approaching us. Behind them, the bodies of the remaining feral vampires were strewn haphazardly about.

“Where did they come from?” I asked. “What if there are more?”

“We shouldn’t stand here conversing. These ferals carried Vlad’s scent—they were his children. Mina—you should ride with Abe or Gabriel,” Anara replied.

We moved forward to gather our scattered belongings. I had to pull a cloak from my bag and put it on over my dress, which was stained with the feral’s blood. Both Seward and Abe changed their blood-stained jackets, and we were once again on our way.

I glanced back at the bodies of the ferals as we galloped away, recalling the brief glimpse of humanity I’d seen in the one who attacked me. Was it possible to somehow reach the humanity that still lingered in them?

The question remained on my mind during our journey towards the town of Thatcham, where we would take the train out of England. We were on high alert as we rode, but we arrived at the station in Thatcham without further incident.

“How did the ferals avoid detection?” I whispered to Gabriel, as the train pulled away from the station.

“They must have left for the night and returned,” Gabriel replied, his jaw clenching with frustration. “We need to be more mindful of our surroundings. We should always assume we’re being watched.”

“Why didn’t they attack sooner?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “Feral vampires aren’t the most rational…they are driven by rage and bloodlust. Perhaps they thought it would be easier to attack when we were on the move, and you were somewhat on your own.”

“I was able to reach one of the ferals,” I said, turning to Abe, who sat at my side. “After I saw into his mind…he looked human again. Do you think it’s possible to reach them? To somehow restore their humanity?” I asked.

“No,” Anara replied. “If they’ve recently been turned, it’s possible to cure them if you kill their maker. But we already know that. If it was as simple as convincing newborn vampires of their humanity, we would not be on the verge of an invasion.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that,” I returned, scowling. “I want to know if it’s possible to prevent ferals from mindlessly following the whims of their makers.”

“No,” Anara repeated.

“It…may be possible,” Szabina interjected, ignoring Anara’s look of irritation. “If they are young vampires, only recently made, their humanity is still close to the surface…then it may be possible to reach them.”

“But if your life is in danger, do not hesitate to kill,” Abe said.

“Of course,” I replied, though I was intrigued at the possibility of being able to reach the humanity of a feral vampire.

We changed trains at Charing Cross in London, boarding the train that took us across the Channel to France. We remained watchful, concerned that we were still being followed. It wasn’t until our train pulled away from the station in Calais towards our final destination of Berlin that I began to calm.

Yet as the train later chugged through the darkened German countryside, the same countryside where my mother had met her end, my calm was replaced by that persistent sense of foreboding.

4

Rosalind

Anara had arranged for carriages to collect us at the train station in Berlin. They whisked us out of the noisy and crowded streets of the city to the small town of Tremen, just outside of Berlin, where Rosalind's home was located. With its narrow cobblestoned streets and medieval buildings, the town seemed to belong to another age.

Our carriages continued on to the outskirts of town. I nearly gasped as we approached a massive estate. It was in the same medieval style as many of the town’s buildings. The estate could have easily belonged to a member of royalty; it was grand in size, with ornate architecture, surrounded by lush gardens.

“When you live as long as we do, you become quite wealthy,” Anara said, bemused by my clear astonishment.

After we stepped out of the carriages, I watched Szabina speak quietly to our drivers, who drove away without a word.

“What did you say to them?” I asked, as we all approached the two large front doors of the estate.

“We placed them into a thrall. They won’t remember collecting us from the station or dropping us here,” Szabina replied. “If we are still being followed and anyone inquires after us, they will know nothing.”

“Szabina.”

I turned at the sound of a warm voice. A woman had stepped out of the now-opened front doors of the estate, flanked by several servants. She had long ash blonde hair, which she wore loose about her shoulders, pale delicate features, and blood red lips that were curved into a gentle smile. From her stark beauty and the frost of her gaze, I could tell that she was vampire.

Szabina returned her smile, hurrying forward to embrace her. They exchanged quiet words in German before turning to face us.

“These are my friends,” Szabina said in English.

The woman’s coffee brown eyes settled on me, and something indiscernible flickered in their depths before she approached, taking my hands.

“Wilhelmina Ghyslaine?” she asked.

I blinked. No one had directly addressed me by my mother’s true last name before—other than the multiple vampires who’d tried to kill me over the past few weeks—and it was rather jarring to hear.

“It’s…Mina Murray,” I replied, unnerved by the intensity of her gaze.

“I want to thank you,” she said, and a sheen of blood tears formed in her eyes before she continued. “For killing the monster who called himself Dracula. He destroyed many lives. Many of our kind are happy he is dead.”

She held my hands until I gave her an affirming nod. She turned to introduce herself to the rest of the group before gesturing us inside.

We entered a cavernous entrance hall, its fine walls filled with paintings of various night landscapes—the hulking shadow of a mountain at night, stars shining over a dark sea, a forest clearing bathed in moonlight.

Several servants approached, their eyes dutifully lowered as they took our bags, my cloak, and the men’s coats. Rosalind led us down the hall to a dining room that was surprisingly intimate in size given the enormity of the estate, furnished only with a simple wooden table and chairs. Vampires don’t have much need for a dining room, I thought with a mild chill.

A meal of chicken and roasted vegetables had already been set out for us. My stomach grumbled in appreciation as we took our seats.

“You all must be hungry after your journey,” Rosalind said, appraising me, Abe, and Seward. “And for the vampires—“

She clapped her hands. Several young men and women entered, their eyes lowered to the floor.

I stiffened. Though I knew Anara fed from humans, I had no desire to see if for myself.

“I do not drink human blood,” Gabriel said sharply.

“I have animal blood for you and Szabina,” Rosalind said, gesturing for one of the young men to step towards Anara. He lowered the collar of his shirt and swallowed, keeping his gaze on the floor. “For Anara— “

“I can dine later,” Anara interjected. “I insist.”

Rosalind raised her eyebrows, surprised, but she waved the humans out of the room. I relaxed once they were gone, and as we sat down at the table, a maid entered with wine for the vampires.

“We are searching for Elizabeth Bathory and Aurel Skala,” Szabina said, as soon as the maid left the room. “They were allies of Vlad Draculesti; they desire to complete what he started and unleash their ferals on the masses. They must be stopped.”

“I agree,” Rosalind said, expelling a sigh. “I am afraid I cannot help you with Elizabeth… I have never met her and I know none of her followers. I can assist you with Skala. There was a recent rash of attacks in Berlin. By the way they were carried out, I could tell the perpetrators were newborn vampires. I had one of my children capture one and hold him in thrall. He told us that Aurel Skala is his maker. He may be in Berlin or somewhere nearby—but I do not know for certain. I do know one way of possibly drawing him here,” Rosalind continued, her eyes straying to Abe. “Abraham Van Helsing. You are the one who killed Ilona, yes?”

Abe gave her an abrupt nod. I reached out to slip my hand in his. Right after I’d killed Vlad, his sister, Ilona, had nearly ripped out my heart. Had Abe not rushed in and killed her, she would have succeeded.

“Skala loved Ilona,” Rosalind continued. “As much as that monster is capable of loving anyone. I think he turned me because I bear a passing resemblance to her," she added bitterly. "Ilona shared his predilection towards cruelty; they both enjoyed torturing humans…they reveled in it. He wanted her as his mate; but she was always devoted wholly to her brother and his plans. I heard he was devastated at the news of her death. If he knows we are harboring the one who killed her…perhaps I can draw him here.”

“How do you know he won’t suspect you? Doesn’t he know you loathe him?” Anara asked, frowning.

“We have not spoken for decades…he does not know where my loyalties lie. He will desire revenge above anything else. He is too arrogant to assume that any of his children would turn against him.”

“You’re proposing we use Abe as bait?” I asked, uneasy. I had used myself as bait twice when attempting to rescue Jonathan, but I was terrified at the thought of Abe being used in the same way.

“Yes,” Rosalind replied. “You want to kill him, yes? And many of his followers as well?”

“Of course.”

“Then it is the best way,” Rosalind said. She surveyed the others, who all nodded, including Abe. I was the only one who remained reticent.

“Surely there has to be another—“ I began.

“It is the best way, Mina,” Abe interrupted, giving me a firm look.

“Then it is decided,” Rosalind said, rising from her chair. “There is plenty of room here for all of you…and there should be time for us to prepare for our attack. I will send my children into the city to spread the rumor and alert his ferals that we have the two killers of Vlad and Ilona Draculesti here.”

“Are you certain you want him to come here, Rosalind?” Szabina asked, her brows furrowed with worry.

“I have longed for my father’s death for centuries,” Rosalind replied, her expression growing dark. “It is fitting that he should die in my home. I have loyal children of my own. They will do as I command—and that includes taking on my maker and protecting all of you.”

As we ate our meal, Rosalind told us she spent much of her human and vampire life in Germany; she had travelled all around Europe as a young vampire, but she continually returned here, to the home of her human and vampire birth. She had met Szabina during her brief tenure as a member of the Order of the Dragon, they had bonded over the shared tragedy of their forced transformations.

“Szabina kept me alive in those early days,” she said, her eyes brimming as she looked at Szabina. “I am glad to have met you.”

“And I you,” Szabina returned. “Thank you for helping us. I worried this would be too difficult for you.”

“No. I want to help. Your human companions must be quite tired,” she added, glancing at us. “They should rest.”

The estate was large enough for each of us to have our own room. As soon as I was led to my room by a maid, I left to seek out Abe.

“I wish there was another way to lure him here…one that doesn’t include using you as bait,” I said, as soon as I entered his room.

“Now do you understand how I feel when you continually place yourself in danger?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Yes, but it doesn’t make it any easier,” I admitted, with a grudging smile.

“I am nervous as well,” Abe said. “But if we succeed, we will only have Bathory left to destroy. This will nearly be over.”

I nodded. I did want this all to be over. I didn’t want anyone else I loved to be put in more danger. “Abe…do not take any unnecessary risks.”

“I will not,” he promised. “Do not worry.”

“How can I not worry? I love you,” I said, a sudden ache of regret over the years we’d spent apart searing my heart. I’d foolishly ended our relationship after Father’s murder, blinded by guilt and grief.

His reply was a gentle kiss, which gradually grew more passionate. I boldly reached out to unbutton his shirt. He broke off the kiss, cupping my face, his cerulean eyes burning with desire.

“Are you quite sure?” he rasped.

“Yes,” I whispered.

Our encounter with the ferals made me realize just how tenuous our time together truly was. We’d already spent too much time apart, and I’d ached for him for days. My desire for him burned as fiercely as my love.

I continued to unbutton his shirt, placing gentle kisses along the broad plane of his chest as it was revealed to me for the first time in years. His breath hitched in his throat, and he stopped me, taking my hand and leading me to the bed.

He took his time undressing me, and lovingly kissed my exposed skin. He removed the remainder of his clothes, and we were instantly entwined, traversing each other’s bodies with our mouths and hands, like explorers returning to a land we had not visited in some time, and the process of rediscovery was exquisite.

“My heart,” he whispered, against my mouth. “My Mina. I love you so. Always.”

“I love you,” I whispered, repeating it like a litany, like our own private song, running my hands through his hair and down his strong jaw. It was freeing to say the words aloud, to no longer deny the powerful feelings that swept through me at his nearness, his touch, him. All of him.

“This may sound petty of me,” Abe asked later, as we lay entwined, still flushed in the aftermath of our lovemaking. “I confess I am not immune to male pride…” he trailed off, an embarrassed flush spreading over his face. “Did…did you and Jonathan ever…”

“What?” I asked, unable to resist teasing him. “Play cricket? Go bicycling together?”

Abe’s flush deepened. I smiled, leaning in to kiss him.

“No,” I whispered. “Jonathan and I never made love. He wanted to wait until after we were wed; he insisted on doing everything properly. You remain my only lover.”

A satisfied smile curved Abe’s lips, and I laughed. But my amusement faded as a jealous thought crossed my mind.

“And you?” I asked. “Did you court anyone while we were apart?”

“No,” Abe replied. Relief chased away my jealousy, though I knew I had no right to be jealous of him when we were apart. “No one I met was quite like you, my heart. I focused on my work, my research into vampires. I do confess…I hoped my research would force us to cross paths again.”

“I truly regret those years apart,” I murmured. “I cared for and loved Jonathan…but he was my own distraction in a way. I felt much guilt after Father died. I thought…if I hadn’t been so preoccupied with our love, I would have noticed how focused he was on vampires and stopped him from going to Transylvania. I now realize how foolish that was. We could have comforted each other in our grief. ”

“We have come back to each other,” he said, reaching out to stroke my hair. “That is all that matters now.”

But as Abe drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t ignore my growing sense of unease. Now that we’d finally found our way back to each other, I feared the looming danger we faced would somehow tear us apart.

5

The Trap

When Abe and I entered the dining room the next morning, a lavish breakfast of bacon, mutton, cold meats, muffins, and fruit awaited us, and our friends were already gathered around the table. As we took our seats, Szabina studied us, a delighted smile spreading across her face. Anara stared at us as well, her eyes dancing with sly amusement, while Gabriel avoided looking at us.

I frowned, wondering why the vampires were behaving so oddly. A hot blush spread over my face as I realized that with their sense of smell, they knew Abe and I made love last night.

Abe must have realized this as well; he flushed as he took a sip of his tea. Seward was the only one oblivious to it all. He looked back and forth between us and the vampires with confusion.

“What the devil is going on?” he asked.

“We are just happy to see Mina and Abraham,” Anara replied, giving me a mischievous look.

“Did you sleep well?” Rosalind asked as she entered the dining room, giving off an aristocratic air in her emerald green gown of fine silk. She took a seat at the head of the table, her eyebrows raised in polite inquiry.

“I think Abe and Mina slept quite well,” Anara answered, a smile still twitching at her lips.

If Rosalind understood the innuendo, she did not show it, giving us a kind smile.

“I am glad. I want you all to feel welcome here. I sent my children to Berlin and out to the countryside last night,” she continued. “I will send them out again today and later tonight. I want to be certain that word gets to my father that you have taken up temporary refuge here. If he heeds the rumors and comes here, I will greet him like a long lost daughter. I will take him into the antechamber of the rear salon, where there are no windows for an easy escape. That is where we can surround and kill him. I only make one request.”

“What?” I asked.

“That I be the one to kill him,” she said, her face tight with hatred. “That I be the one to end that monster.”

“Of course,” Szabina replied. She stood and approached Rosalind, placing her hand on her shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

“It is essential that you all stay out of sight when he arrives—we may have to disguise your scents,” Rosalind said, giving Szabina a grateful nod.

“How will you know when he’s coming?” Seward asked.

“I can…feel him. In my mind,” she replied. “It is the bond the maker shares with those he has created. That is how I will know he is near.”

We finished our breakfast and Rosalind took us for a tour around the estate. As she led us in and out of the gilded rooms filled with marble floors, lush carpeting, decorous paintings, and sparkling chandeliers, she told us that the estate once belonged to her deceased human husband, a baron. He’d known that Rosalind was vampire and wanted her to change him. But she’d steadfastly refused. He’d died of old age a decade ago.

“I mourned him when he died—I still do,” Rosalind murmured. “But I never would have turned him. Not after what was done to me.”

“That was different,” Anara protested. “He wanted you to change him. If someone I cared for wanted me to turn him… it would be difficult to refuse.”

“I know,” Rosalind replied, a trace of regret flaring in her eyes. “You must understand… I am still traumatized by what Skala has done to me.”

“We understand,” Szabina interjected, giving Anara a sharp look to silence her.

Rosalind lead us down the main hall. The servants we passed immediately lowered their gazes; many of them even seemed fearful of Rosalind. I found this odd, considering how kind she was to us. She’d been nothing but polite to the servants I’d seen her interact with. When I tried to smile at a young female servant, her skin blanched and she looked away.

I thought of the humans Rosalind had brought before us the previous night with a shudder. Did she feed on them regularly—and did they have a choice in the matter? Was that the reason for the servants’ fear?

“This is the room where we will trap my father,” Rosalind said, pulling me back to the present. She had led us into an antechamber next to one of the salons. Like the other rooms of the estate, it was generously decorated, with gold framed paintings of night cityscapes that left no portion of the walls bare, plush rugs covered the floors, and a crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. But it was miniscule and windowless; the only way out was through the narrow door. I took in the room, hoping that our trap would work, and this would be the room where Skala met his end.

Rosalind led us out to the wide expanse of grounds in the back, where Abe, Seward and I could practice fighting with our weapons. Szabina and Rosalind left, while the others remained to help us train. Though we had been trained by Szabina to kill vampires in Transylvania, it still seemed odd to receive tutelage on how to kill vampires from vampires themselves.

“Aurel Skala is two centuries old and strong. Perhaps stronger than Vlad Draculesti,” Anara informed us, when we were alone. “Let me and Gabriel take him on first. If we are somehow incapacitated—or killed—only then should you three attack him. You should attack him at the same time—aim for the heart, throat and neck. All at once.”

I watched Anara and Seward closely as we practiced fighting, noting the lingering glances they exchanged. I wasn’t as subtle as I thought; at one point Anara turned to glare at me.

“Focus on your training, Mina,” she said.

I tore my eyes away from her and turned to Gabriel, who urged me to attack him, though I was reluctant to do so. Gabriel smiled at my obvious concern for him.

“How far you’ve come, sister,” he said. “You tried to kill me when I first revealed myself to you.”

“There is no need to remind me,” I said crossly, shame running through me at the memory. When I first met Gabriel, I was under the assumption that all vampires were evil monsters, and in my fear and fury I'd attacked him. Now I knew that was far from the truth. I regretted how I’d treated him.

“It is all right,” Gabriel said gently. “You did not know a thing about me. You were right to be cautious.”

“Lunch is being served,” a female servant said from behind us, before I could reply. I turned to find the same servant I’d tried to smile at earlier standing a few yards away. Her eyes met mine, but she quickly lowered them again.

“Thank you for informing us,” I said, approaching her. “I’m Mina Murray.”

Her eyes went wide, she looked shocked at my friendly overture. It was a mistake I’d made many times during the days of my courtship and engagement to Jonathan, when I tried so desperately to abide by the rules of London society. You are not to be sociable with servants, it is most unbecoming, Jonathan’s mother Mary had said to me, when I’d attempted to engage one of her maids in conversation. I thought such rules silly and arbitrary; the housekeeper who worked for my father, Clara, was like a mother to me and my closest confidant.

“You frightened her off,” Abe said with amusement, as the servant scurried way.

“Don’t you find it odd that Rosalind's servants seem a bit frightened of her?” I asked, as we made our way to our rooms to wash and change for lunch.

“You have seen how upper class humans treat their servants,” Abe said, giving me a knowing look. “It is no different with vampires.”

I nodded, though I still felt doubtful. I washed and changed into one of my better traveling dresses—an afternoon dress of deep crimson, though nothing I had was smart enough to match the grandeur of Rosalind's estate.

A meal of roasted mutton and potatoes paired with several fruit dishes had been set out for me, Abe, and Seward in the dining room. When we entered, I noticed that Rosalind and our vampire companions stood in the corner, speaking quietly, their expressions grim.

“What is it?” I asked, worried.

“We have not heard any response from Skala…or any hint that he is near,” Rosalind replied.

My appetite vanished. I looked at Abe, whose shoulders sank with chagrin at the news. This was what I’d feared…that Skala wasn’t anywhere near Berlin. He could be anywhere in Europe—or the world—wreaking havoc and recruiting new followers, killing scores of innocent humans.

“There is no need to despair,” Szabina said, taking in our worried faces. “If there is no news by the end of the day—Rosalind has agreed to help us search for him. She knows other followers of his.”

I nodded, but I didn’t feel reassured. We were still where we had started, with no information as to Skala’s—or Bathory’s—whereabouts. I made myself eat as much as I could and excused myself while Abe and Seward were still eating. Perhaps I could peruse our journals and find some useful kernel of information, though I had already pored over them multiple times.

“Will you take a walk with me, Mina?” Szabina asked, when I stood up to leave.

I nodded, wondering what she wanted to discuss. Together, we stepped out of the dining room. She linked my arm with hers as we headed down the hallway to the back doors of the estate.

I gave her an inquiring look, but she remained silent as we made our way outside, walking towards the central gardens that were situated in the grounds behind the estate, fragrant with the sweet smell of flowers. We paused opposite a blooming row of white lily of the valley flowers. Szabina closed her eyes as she inhaled their scent.

“I wanted to tell you that I am proud of you,” Szabina said, giving me a tremulous smile when she opened them again. “You are so like your mother, Mina. To have taken on something like this…to have killed Vlad when others have tried—and failed.”

“I had help,” I reminded her. “I wouldn’t have succeeded without you and the others. It’s still not over. As long as Skala and Bathory are out there—“

“You should be proud of what you have already accomplished,” Szabina interrupted. “Your mother was my dear friend…I feel protective of you. I want you to be safe. I know you are weary of hearing this—but Vlad had fiercely loyal followers. What your mother went through at the end of her life—“ she stopped, her skin paling. “It was horrific, and I have seen many terrible things in my long life. Torture was her punishment for attempting to kill Vlad. I can only imagine what they would do to the one who actually succeeded… and you are her daughter.”

“I will be careful, I assure you,” I said, though fear darted through my entire body at her words. I’d not allowed myself to dwell on the torture my mother had suffered before her death; the grief and rage that swelled in my heart at the thought of what she’d been through was too much to bear.

We continued our walk, meandering through colorful rows of begonias, marigolds, and violets.

“I enjoyed gardening when I was human,” Szabina said with a nostalgic sigh, taking in the array of flowers around us. “I would gather wildflowers in the forest whenever I could. One thing I have always liked about being vampire is my greater sense of smell. Flowers are sweeter than the most potent perfume.”

“Perhaps you can garden when this is over,” I said. “You can settle into a house in the countryside and plant the largest garden in Europe.”

Szabina’s countenance brightened at my words.

“This war has gone on for so long that I haven’t considered what I will do after it is over,” she mused.

“Now you have something to look forward to,” I said, smiling.

We left the garden to approach the estate. One of Rosalind's children, a severe-looking vampire named Endres, appeared at the back doors.

“Rosalind has news,” he said, his face stoic. “She has received confirmation. Skala has gotten the message that you are here. He is on his way to the estate.”

Szabina and I exchanged a startled look before hurrying inside. As we trailed Endres down the hall, nervousness and excitement dueled for dominance in my mind. The plan had worked after all.

The female servant who I’d tried to introduce myself to earlier was heading down the hall with a tray of tea, and as I started to pass her, she tripped, splashing scalding hot tea all over my dress. The pot and mugs fell to the carpeted floor.

“I’m—I’m sorry, my lady,” she said, in heavily accented English, bending down to pick up the scattered dishes.

“It is no bother,” I assured her.

“Madeline, this is not acceptable,” Endres practically snarled, the look in his eyes so dangerous that Szabina moved to stand in front of the servant.

“She apologized. Mina has accepted,” Szabina said.

“I help the lady change,” Madeline said, her eyes still on the floor as she straightened. She was shaking so badly that I feared she would again drop her tray.

“That won’t be necessary— “ I began.

“Bitte, my lady. Please,” Madeline said. She held my gaze for a long moment, and something in her eyes urged me to comply.

“Very well,” I said.

“Be quick about it,” Endres snapped at Madeline, before continuing down the hall with Szabina.

Madeline led me to my guest room, closing the door behind us.

“It is truly not a bother— “ I began, but fell silent when I saw the look on her face. Her skin was ashen, her breathing rapid.

“I spilled tea on purpose,” Madeline said, speaking in a whisper as she moved towards me. “Rosalind—she betray you. She loves her father and believes his cause. She means to kill you all. You must leave.”

6

Warning

I stared at Madeline in disbelief, my heart thundering in my chest. From her desperate expression, I knew that she spoke the truth. It explained the fear Rosalind's servants displayed, fear that went beyond the mere obeisance to class rules. Rosalind's kindness was an act; her servants knew her true nature.

“Thank you for telling me,” I whispered, when I was finally able to speak. I needed to somehow warn the others—but how? Vampires were deeply perceptive; Rosalind would know something was amiss if I acted with even the slightest trace of anxiety. “I need to change my gown, or they’ll know something’s wrong,” I continued, forcing myself to think. “You should leave. They’ll know it was you who told me.”

Madeline was trembling as she shook her head.

“I—I can’t,” she whispered, as I quickly changed out of my dress and into another. “My family—imprisoned. If I escape, she will kill. Most of us—we not here willing. Those who are here—she done something to their minds. Their minds…no longer their own.”

Horror gripped me at her words. Rosalind had fooled us all with her mask of kindness. How was I going to get my friends out of here without her suspecting that something was amiss?

I moved to the door, turning back to look at Madeline. She stood rooted to the spot, her body frozen with fear.

“Why are you helping us?” I whispered.

“You and your friends good people, I can see. Not like the other guests she brings…they cruel. Kill us for pleasure. You do not deserve this.”

“My God,” I whispered. “I will get you all out of here,” I promised.

“Too late for us,” Madeline replied, blinking back tears. “Gehen. Leave this place.”

I hurried from the room, taking deep breaths as I made my way down the hall. I needed to feign calm.

I descended the stairs, trying to keep my expression serene, even as frantic thoughts raced through my mind. I had no time to formulate a plan as I made my way to the antechamber; I couldn’t delay my entry for fear of arousing suspicion.

I stopped a young male servant right before I reached the antechamber, placing my hand on his arm. He jerked back, his eyes wide as he met my face.

“Leave here. Now,” I whispered in German. “Madeline told me what is happening here. Take as many as you can and leave.”

I didn’t wait for his reply as I continued down the hall, my hands shaking with dread.

When I entered the antechamber, I prayed that my face was neutral as Rosalind, Endres, and my companions all looked up. Rosalind smiled, only now I saw her smile for what it truly was—a veil to conceal the monster that lay beneath her beauty.

“I apologize for my maid,” she said, taking in my changed gown. “Madeline can be clumsy. I will have a talk with her later.”

“There is no need,” I said swiftly, too swiftly, and Rosalind's eyes lingered on mine before she turned her focus to the others. I glanced over at Abe, who was studying me. He’d already discerned something was wrong.

“I was telling your friends that Skala will be here presently,” Rosalind said, as I made myself look away from Abe. “We were discussing ways to disguise your scents while we wait.”

“Rosalind, do you mind if I talk to my friends alone?” I asked. I forced a polite smile, keeping my voice even. “There is a private matter I wish to discuss with them.”

“Of course,” Rosalind said, with such patience and kindness that for a brief moment I wondered if Madeline had been wrong about her nature.

Rosalind stood and moved to the door, nodding at Endres. I waited anxiously for them to leave.

But they did not leave. Instead, she waited by the door as two large male vampires whom I didn’t recognize entered the room. They closed the door behind them and stood in front of it, their dark eyes cold as they swept over us.

She knows, I thought. I wanted to reach into my bodice and hurl my kukri right into her treacherous heart, but I knew I’d be dead before the kukri even landed, and Abe or Gabriel would die trying to save my life.

Fear rendered my body still as the others looked at Rosalind and the two vampires with confusion. Szabina rose from the armchair she’d been sitting in with a frown.

“Rosalind?” Szabina asked, but Rosalind's focus was entirely on me. This time when she smiled, it was with pure malevolence. She ignored Szabina, keeping her focus trained on me, and I was instantly airborne, slammed hard against the back wall by an invisible force, unable to move. She was holding me in thrall.

The others immediately moved into fighting stances, and Gabriel let out a ferocious snarl. Endres and Rosalind's two vampire henchmen moved into fighting stances of their own.

“Rosalind, what is this?” Szabina cried.

“You wear your emotions quite plainly,” Rosalind continued to ignore Szabina as she addressed me. “What did my foolish Madeline tell you?”

“Release her at once!” Abe cried. Rosalind turned to look at him, and both he and Seward were paralyzed as well, their weapons clattering to the floor. Gabriel and Anara charged towards her, but her two henchmen were far stronger and faster. They were on them at once, throwing Gabriel and Anara bodily away from Rosalind; they landed with such force against the wall that it partially cracked upon impact. When they shot to their feet, lunging forward with hisses and snarls, the henchmen physically subdued them, pinning both Gabriel and Anara to the wall with firm hands.

“My beloved father taught me the art of deception. You have always been exceptionally naive, Szabina,” Rosalind said, finally turning her attention away from me to Szabina, who was shaking her head in disbelief, blood tears spilling from her eyes. “All I have to do is give you gentle smiles and speak in warm tones. You always wanted to believe the best of all creatures—human and vampire. Your downfall began the moment you allied with humans against your own kind.”

“You hate your father!” Szabina cried. “You hate everything he stands for! This is not who you are!”

“That was over a century ago, when I was a foolish newborn,” Rosalind spat. “Father taught me the error of my ways. Humans do not deserve to reign. They do not deserve to exist!”

“No,” Szabina whispered; heartbreak lacing her voice. “Rosalind, no.”

“My father is right. Vlad Draculesti was right. Elizabeth Bathory is right. The world should be ours. We should not have to live in the shadows,” Rosalind continued, unmoved by Szabina’s anguish as she moved towards her. “The war continues, and we shall win. Vampires who turn against their own deserve death. But I will be kind and give you a quick one.”

It happened in an instant. A terrible instant.

Rosalind grabbed Szabina by the throat, pinning her to the wall. Holding Szabina’s horrified gaze, Rosalind plunged her free hand into Szabina’s chest, tearing the fabric of her dress, and pulled out her still beating heart.

Paralyzed, I could only watch in grief-stricken terror as Szabina’s beautiful face withered and the life drained out of her eyes. Rosalind stepped back, still holding Szabina’s heart, as she slid lifelessly to the ground.

Anara screamed. It was the most desolate scream I had ever heard. I couldn’t scream if I tried; shock had seized all of my senses, it was like witnessing my father’s death all over again.

Rosalind lingered over Szabina’s still body for a moment, and I saw a brief flicker of regret in her eyes before she turned to face us.

“My father gave me special permission to kill Szabina. The rest of you are for him and his followers to enjoy. Wilhelmina and Abraham,” she continued, giving me and Abe a malevolent smile. “He desires special time with the both of you. I am afraid your deaths won’t be swift and painless.”

Rosalind and her vampires left the room in quick flashes of movement, the door shutting behind them. At once, we were released from our paralysis.

I sank down to the floor, trembling. I hadn’t warned my friends in time, and Szabina was dead because of it. I let out a strangled sob as my gaze fell on Szabina’s body. Her once youthful face was now shriveled with age, those vibrant eyes reduced to nothingness. Her death had been violent, senseless, and undeserved.

Anara stumbled over to Szabina’s body, quaking with grief. Gabriel looked down at Szabina with an amalgamation of shock, fury, and despair. Seward’s face was ashen, while Abe’s eyes were wet with tears. No one moved or spoke for several long moments, as if our shock and grief had momentarily stopped time.

Anara finally stood and moved to the door. The others followed, and I made myself stand as well.

Anara tried to open the door, shoving her body against it, but it didn’t budge. She let out a bellow of grief and anger as she stepped back.

“We walked right into a trap,” Seward muttered.

“One of the servants just warned me,” I whispered. “I wanted to tell you all. And now, Szabina—“ my voice broke, and I pressed my hand to my mouth.

“The only person responsible for Szabina’s death is Rosalind,” Anara spat. “I will kill her—slowly—with my bare hands.”

“If we can find a way out of here,” Gabriel said. “This door is made to withstand our strength.”

Desperate, I looked around the room. There was no other way out except through the impenetrable front door.

“Seward,” I said, as a sudden thought occurred to me. “Do you have your revolver?”

Seward straightened, reaching into his pocket.

“They didn’t take it from me,” he said, with surprise and relief.

“It would have seemed suspicious to remove our weapons—she wanted to keep us at ease,” Abe said bitterly.

Seward started to point the revolver at the door to fire, but I stopped him.

“Wait,” I said. “We should say goodbye first. We can’t take Szabina with us.”

I moved towards Szabina’s body, trailed by the others. I kneeled down, touching her withered face.

“Szabina,” I whispered. “I am grateful that I had you in my life…even if it was for a brief time.”

We will win this war. Your death will not be in vain, I silently added, repeating the same words I’d once promised to Arthur Holmwood, who’d been killed by feral vampires during our initial journey to Transylvania.

The others spoke brief words of their own. After a solemn silence, we again moved back to the door.

“Stand behind us,” Anara said to me and Abe. We obliged as she moved to the door, inhaling. She turned back and whispered, “It’s just Endres. Rosalind is not out there.”

She gave Seward a nod, and he stepped forward to aim his revolver, firing. The door partially shattered. Anara and Gabriel kicked at it, and it fell back with a thud.

Endres was indeed standing outside the door. At the sight of us, he charged towards us with his fangs bared. With brutal efficiency Anara stopped him, placing her hands on the side of his head and twisting. With a sickening crack, she broke his neck, and he slumped to the floor.

Anara gestured for us to follow. We cautiously stepped out of the room and over Endres’ body. The hallway was empty.

“The back door,” Gabriel whispered. As we crept down the hall, I gripped my kukri knife, anticipating an army of Rosalind and her ferals at any moment.

We were halfway down the hall when I heard the first snarls. I whirled to see a dozen ferals practically fly towards us from the opposite end of the hall.

They were on us at once. I cried out as I was slammed against the wall by a wiry-thin feral, her eyes black and teeth bared as she lunged for my throat. I moved quickly, staking her through the heart with my kukri, and she crumpled into a heap at my feet. Abe and Seward warded off several ferals who leapt onto them, while Gabriel and Anara killed even more ferals as they approached. I froze when I saw Rosalind's two vampire henchmen race towards us from further down the hall, their faces infused with fury.

“Mina, Jack, Abraham—go upstairs! Find another exit—leap from the windows if you must—I will hold them off!” Anara shouted, turning to face the henchmen. “Gabriel—go with them! Get them out of here!”

“You can’t fight them on your own!” Seward shouted. “Anara, this is madness!”

“Go or I will kill you myself!” she shouted, charging towards the two henchmen.

Abe had to grab Seward by the arm and drag him with us as we obliged her, turning to race down the hall and up the winding staircase. The estate seemed suspiciously empty; I prayed that Madeline and the other servants had fled.

We raced up the stairs, a half-dozen ferals on our tail. We raced into the first open room on the top floor, which appeared to be a study.

Gabriel slammed the door behind him once we were inside. He dragged a bookcase in front of it as Abe, Seward, and I darted to the balcony.

It was a long way down, and the ferals began to slam their bodies against the door. It was only a matter of time before they forced their way inside. We were trapped.

7

Berlin

“We need to jump!” I cried. “We have no choice.”

“We won’t survive the bloody fall!” Seward shouted.

“I can hold two of you and break the fall,” Gabriel said, moving over to the balcony. “But we must—“

His sentence was interrupted by the bookcase tipping over from the force of the ferals crashing into the door. The door would not hold for much longer.

“Take Jack and Mina,” Abe said to Gabriel, hurrying past him to open the balcony doors. There was no ledge; it was a sheer drop to the ground.

“No!” I protested. “I will not—“

“We don’t have time to argue!” Gabriel shouted, as the door began to splinter behind us.

I yelped as Gabriel grabbed both me and Seward. I struggled to dislodge myself from his grip, but it was firm as he raced towards the balcony and leapt from the edge, still holding us in his arms.

We were temporarily airborne, and panic flooded my body until we landed in a heap on the ground. Gabriel held us steady, even as we landed, his hold breaking our fall. Winded, I stumbled to my feet.

Clutching my sides, I took in great gulps of air before looking up. Abe’s head was poking out of the balcony above. He looked relieved that we'd landed safely.

But in the room behind him, I could hear the door crashing in. In only seconds, the ferals would be inside the room.

“Gabriel—get him out of there! Please!” I cried. “I will go back inside if I must!”

“Abe—you need to jump!” Gabriel shouted. “Now! I will break your fall!”

To my relief, Abe did not protest. He braced himself before leaping from the balcony.

In a lightning-fast move, Gabriel reached out and grabbed Abe by his waist before he reached the ground. His muscles strained with effort as he slowed Abe’s momentum, carefully lowering him to the ground.

Once Abe was steady on his feet, I flew towards him, burying my face in his neck.

“Thank God,” I whispered. “Do not risk your life like that again.”

“I will always risk my life for you,” Abe said fiercely, cupping my face with his hands. “Always, my heart.”

“This is all very touching,” Seward shouted from behind us. He had taken out his weapons and stood next to Gabriel, who surveyed both the surrounding grounds of the estate and the window above. “But we are still under attack. Anara is fighting those damned vampires by herself! They’ll soon be on us again.”

“I will go back to fight with Anara and hold off these ferals. Go to the stables. If there are no horses, make your way to town on foot—stay off the main roads,” Gabriel said.

“No—come with us!” I protested.

“Your safety is my priority,” he said. “Get out of here. Now!”

“We’ll go to Berlin,” Abe said, grabbing my arm. He turned to Gabriel, giving him an address in the city. “You’ll find us there.”

Gabriel nodded, his gaze now trained on the window above as he moved his body into a fighting stance.

I reluctantly ran with Abe and Seward towards the stables, praying that Gabriel could hold off the ferals on his own. The surrounding grounds of the estate were also empty; I hoped this meant all of Rosalind's vampires were still inside the estate and her servants had indeed fled.

When we reached the relative safety of the stables, we found only two horses inside. Seward mounted one horse while Abe and I mounted the other.

As we galloped away, I heard a cacophony of hisses and snarls behind us. I reached for my kukri, but the sounds were coming from the increasingly distant estate, and I saw no ferals on our tail. Gabriel, I thought, with both relief and worry. He must be holding them off.

“Gabriel and Anara are strong,” Abe shouted, as we galloped into the forest that surrounded the estate. “They have dealt with ferals before.”

But his words did not ease my worry. Stay alive, Gabriel, I prayed, turning to watch the estate disappear behind us. Stay alive.

* * *

It felt odd to be seated in the backseat of a cab, clattering through the bustling streets of Berlin, as if we hadn’t just barely escaped with our lives. But hours later we were doing just that, sitting in disoriented silence as our driver made his way to the address Abe had given him.

We'd cut through the forest to make our way into town, where we’d taken the main road into Berlin. I'd kept my kukri out the entire time, expecting an army of ferals to descend on us at any moment, but our brief ride had been uneventful. When we arrived in Berlin, we left our horses at a stable yard and flagged down a cab.

Now, as I looked out at the passing streets, a plethora of emotions flowed into my heart. Grief over Szabina, fear for my brother and Anara, rage towards Rosalind. By the time our cab stopped outside of a modest home in the Tiergarten neighborhood, I realized that I hadn’t even asked where we were going.

“Whose house is this?” I asked, as we made our way to the front door. The block was dominated by a row of multistory apartments; we were approaching one of the few residences that appeared to be a townhome.

“Professor Hans Becker. He was a friend of your father’s,” Abe replied. “He is not here; he attends a biology conference this time of year in Boston. He offered me his home as accommodation any time I am in Berlin.”

“I don’t recall Father mentioning him.”

“Robert kept his correspondence with him private. I only found out about him when he contacted me after Robert’s funeral. He was one of the few—perhaps the only—scientist your father confided in. He knows about vampires. I was not anticipating our stop in Berlin—I do not have a key,” Abe hastily added. “I fear that we must break into his home. I do believe the professor will understand when I explain the circumstances.”

“I can handle this,” Seward said. He looked around to make certain no one was watching us, before reaching down to fiddle with the lock. The door easily swung open, and he ushered us inside.

“Well done, Jack,” Abe said, impressed.

“When I started at Scotland Yard, my main job was arresting pickpockets and thieves. I learned quite a bit."

The professor’s home was middle-class and spartan, with hardly any decorations or personal touches. It looked like the home of a bachelor who hardly spent any time there.

I hurried into the sparsely furnished drawing room, opening the curtain to peer out the window. Seward joined me, his apprehension matching my own.

“How long should we wait for the others?” I asked.

“Patience,” Abe said, approaching us. “I know you are frightened…but you both forget—our companions are strong vampires. They can fight Rosalind.”

“Szabina was strong and powerful,” I reminded him, fighting back a wave of tears as I thought of our fallen friend. “She was killed.”

“That was different. She was betrayed. We all were. We could not have known what Rosalind was planning. We shall have to act with more caution going forward.”

We remained inside the house for the rest of the day. I periodically looked out the drawing room window as the hours passed, hoping to see Gabriel and Anara each time. Abe spent most of his time in the professor’s study, poring over some new research he’d left behind. Seward was as restless as me, pacing each room, cleaning his revolver, continually looking out of the windows for any sign of our friends.

"You care for Anara, don't you?" I asked him, as we both looked out the window at the quiet street for the dozenth time.

He hesitated, avoiding my eyes.

"I do," he finally replied. "I have come to know her. Anara has gone through much in her long life. She… she is quite remarkable. I am worried for her. Rosalind and her vampires are strong."

"Anara is strong as well. They both are," I assured him, my words meant to comfort us both.

I tried to occupy the rest of my time by reading a book on biology in the study next to Abe, but I could barely concentrate on the words, wondering what was taking so long for our friends to return. I thought of Rosalind’s two strong henchmen who'd initially been able to overpower them. What if Rosalind had an army of such vampires? My mind continually circled around various dark scenarios—each one ending with my friends captured or killed.

“My brother doesn’t know that I love him,” I said suddenly, just after evening fell, looking up from my book. Panic seized me at the realization. “If Gabriel dies, he’ll never know—“

“You do not know if any harm has come to him,” Abe said gently. “He knows you care for him.”

“I tried to kill him when he told me who he was,” I reminded Abe. “I was cold to him. He’s done nothing but keep his promise to our mother by watching over me, and I left him at Rosalind’s estate to die.”

“Mina—“

A sharp knock at the door interrupted him, and hope ignited in my chest. I was instantly on my feet, racing into the entrance hall and throwing open the door.

Relief coursed through me at the sight of Gabriel and Anara. But they weren’t alone.

In between them, they gripped the arms of a woman who could barely stand upright, her entire form concealed by a hooded black cloak.

Anara reached out to yank down the woman’s hood. It was Rosalind.

8

Pale Shadow

I stood frozen in the doorway, my mouth agape.

“What the bloody hell is this?” Seward demanded, stepping into the entryway behind me.

Gabriel and Anara stepped inside without a word, Rosalind moving limply along with them. I instinctively jerked back, though she was hardly threatening in her current state. Her bright hair was matted with dried blood, her eyes dazed and unfocused. She seemed to be in a thrall, a pale shadow of the haughty malevolent creature who had slaughtered Szabina.

“We need a cellar or an empty room,” Anara said, closing the door behind them. “Whose house is this?”

“It belongs to a friend. He is not here,” Abe replied, surveying them with unease.

“We need a secure room,” Anara repeated.

“Why? What is the meaning of this?” Abe asked. “This is a private home. Why would you bring—“

“We do not have much time,” Anara barked, glaring at Abe. “We need to restrain her; this thrall will not hold.”

“Use the cellar,” Abe replied, after a tense pause.

He stepped back, gesturing to a door at the end of the hall. Anara and Gabriel headed towards it, dragging Rosalind along with them. Stupefied, I watched them go. My joy at their safe arrival had been replaced by shock at the sight of Rosalind.

We scurried after them, descending the rickety stairs that led to a large, empty cellar. Gabriel used rope to secure a seated Rosalind by her neck to a wall post, while Anara held both her arms still. Once she was secured, Anara lifted Rosalind's wrist, removing a wooden stake from her bodice. She pierced Rosalind’s flesh with the stake, watching calmly as her blood seeped from the wound.

“You should not be in here,” Gabriel said to us, not looking up. “Leave now.”

“No,” I snapped, weary of their continued evasiveness. “Why did you bring her here?”

“Because we need to find Skala quickly, on our terms, rather than waiting for him to kill us. We know that Rosalind was deceiving us the whole time—he could bring an army with him. We need to find him before he finds us,” Anara snapped.

“How do you intend to find out where he is?” I demanded. “From Rosalind?”

“I have my ways,” Anara said, her eyes flashing dangerously as she looked up at me. “Your brother is right. You three need to leave.”

My gaze slid to Rosalind, who still looked as if she were only half conscious. I wondered how they had been able to capture her—and put her in thrall. Though I felt no sympathy for this creature who had murdered Szabina, I was hesitant to leave. Anara’s expression was ominous as she continued to drain blood from Rosalind's wrist, while Gabriel hovered, barely containing his fury at the sight of her.

I knew that Gabriel had grown close to Szabina during our journey; with their peaceful demeanors, they were very similar. Szabina had also been Anara’s friend, the only person I’d seen her confide in besides her late father Radu. They wouldn’t be able to objectively question Rosalind, not when they were in such emotional torment.

“We can make you leave,” Anara warned. A slight chill went through me; I was reminded of my initial fear of Anara when I first met her in Budapest. Even Gabriel’s warning look did not soften the sharp gaze she trained on me. “I will give you one minute.”

“Come, Mina.”

Abe’s grip was firm as he pulled me back towards the stairs. Seward lingered for a moment, studying Anara with concern, before trailing after us.

Seward left to fetch us a meal from a neighboring pub, assuring us he had his wooden stake and revolver. He returned moments later with several porkpies, bread, and ale. We sat at the dining room table to eat, but the food was tasteless to me, and I kept straining to hear any noise that came from the cellar. But there was no sound at all, which I found even more disconcerting.

After our meal, Abe and I headed to the sole guest room upstairs, while Seward remained on the couch in the drawing room. I suspected that he wanted to wait for Anara to come up from the cellar.

Once Abe and I were alone, I began to pace the room.

“I know what you are thinking,” Abe said, as he changed into his nightshirt. “Let them be. You need to sleep. We both do.”

I grudgingly agreed, recalling the coldness in Anara’s eyes as she asked me to leave. If I went down there again, I’d receive another frosty reception. Perhaps they will be able to obtain answers from Rosalind, I thought, setting aside my niggling doubt as I changed into my nightdress and slid into bed, easing into the warmth of Abe’s arms.

I awoke just past dawn. Abe was still asleep; I untangled myself from his arms to change and slip out of the room. I made my way downstairs, stopping at the entrance to the cellar. The door was partially open.

I hurried down the stairs, freezing at the gruesome sight.

Rosalind was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. For a moment, I thought she was dead. But her chest unsteadily rose and fell. Her eyes were open, filled with a sheen of blood, and her emerald green gown, so elegant only a day ago, was now soaked straight through with blood.

Anara was the only one in the room with her. She sat cross-legged, the wooden stake hanging limply from her left hand, staring straight ahead at nothing.

“You need to leave,” Anara said, not looking at me. Her usually commanding voice was hollow and empty.

I ignored her request, entering the cellar further. There was something different about Anara. Something broken. Her desire for revenge had been appeased, leaving her with the chasm of emptiness that defined grief.

“No,” I said, though my voice quavered a bit.

“There is no time for your insolence,” Anara said, with a barely controlled snarl. “If you do not leave—“

“When my father died, I could hardly think—my despair was so great,” I interrupted.

Anara looked up at me, her expression dark with rage and sorrow.

“I have lived more lifetimes than you! Do not talk to me of grief!”

“I know you cared for Szabina,” I persisted. “But torturing for the sake of revenge is not the way to—“

“Do not speak of matters you know nothing about!” Anara shouted. “I am warning you, if you do not leave—“

“Did it work?” I asked, gesturing to Rosalind's still form. She had not moved a muscle since I entered. I wondered if she was even conscious, despite her opened eyes.

“It will,” Anara said stubbornly. “Now get out!”

“Let me try to get through to her.”

“You think you can accomplish what I cannot?” Anara cried, getting unsteadily to her feet, her deep purple traveling dress splattered with Rosalind's blood.

“I think I am calmer than you. We know I have the ability to enter the mind of a vampire,” I pointedly reminded her. It was during a violent training session with Anara that I’d first realized I could enter a vampire’s mind.

“She is blocking me out,” Anara said, after a brief pause. “If I couldn’t get anything from her—“

“Let me try,” I repeated. “We don’t know where Skala is—he could be in Berlin as we speak. We don’t have much time.”

“Mina!”

I turned. Gabriel hurried into the cellar, his worried gaze sweeping from me to Anara. His cheeks were flushed with blood—he must have left the house to feed. “You should not be in here.”

“We need to know where Skala is, and your method isn’t working,” I said, moving towards Rosalind. Gabriel was instantly at my side, gripping my arm, preventing me from moving forward.

“Do not go near Rosalind—she is still dangerous,” he insisted.

“She’s been drained of her blood and she’s weak,” I returned. “I need to enter her mind to see what she knows.”

The vampires exchanged uneasy glances. I expelled an impatient breath.

“Skala could be in Berlin, or he could be anywhere. She’s our best way of finding out where he is. Let me try to reach her.”

After a long moment, the vampires moved towards Rosalind. Despite her weakened state, Gabriel insisted on retying her, and he gave me a wooden stake in addition to my kukri.

Once she was tied to the post, Rosalind began to stir from whatever haze she was under. I kneeled before her, staring into her disoriented brown eyes, but I was too distracted by the intensity of Anara and Gabriel’s gazes on the back of my neck to concentrate.

“I need you both to leave,” I said, turning to glare at them.

“We’re not leaving you with her,” Gabriel protested.

“Very well—one of you can stay. But if I'm going to reach her, I need to concentrate. I can’t do that with both of you here.”

Gabriel looked at Anara. Something silent was exchanged between them, and she gave him an abrupt nod, turning to leave the cellar.

Gabriel hovered behind me as I turned my focus back to Rosalind. Suppressing my fear at my proximity to her, I placed my hands on the sides of her cold face, gazing into her eyes.

Soon, the cellar around me faded away.

I was at a society ball. A handsome man danced with me, smiling as he whirled me around, his flaxen hair gleaming beneath the light of the chandeliers, his grey eyes intent on every inch of my skin.

He was kissing me passionately in a drawing room. Though I knew it wasn’t proper…I was kissing him back. His lips were at my throat, and I gasped in pleasure.

“There is a different way of living, beauty,” he whispered against my skin. “A different way of being. Do you want to live forever? Do you want the world around you to come alive?”

I did not know what he meant, but I was seduced by his words. His kisses turned to bites, and I screamed as his teeth—his fangs—pierced my skin.

I was in my estate, watching the traitor Szabina and her deceitful friends move about my home, a false smile pinned to my lips. They would pay for their treachery.

You must come quickly, Father, I whispered in my mind. The human woman who killed Dracula is here…and the man who killed your Ilona.

His reply was in my mind, a firm whisper that brushed the insides of my skull. I am coming, daughter. I am in Germany. I am not far. Keep them at ease until I arrive. You have done well, my beloved.

The vampire Anara had me pinned to the ground, her hand around my throat. Pain consumed me as she gazed into my eyes, placing me in thrall.

Desperate, I called out to Father in my mind.

Help me, Father. I am dying. They know I have deceived them.

Where are you, daughter?

Tiergarten, in Berlin. The home of a human. I’ve not much time.

I am coming, daughter. I will kill them all.

“Mina!”

I was suddenly back in the cellar. Gabriel’s hands gripped my shoulders, holding me upright. I blinked, still out of sorts.

“Your eyes went black—what did you see?” he asked.

“Skala—he was in my—he was in Rosalind's mind,” I rasped, when I could find words. “Gabriel…he knows where we are.”

9

Nightfall

“We must leave at once,” Abe said, his entire body taut with urgency.

Gabriel and I had gathered the others in the drawing room, where I’d told them that Skala was coming to Berlin—and he knew where we were.

“We can’t just allow Skala to attack the city,” Seward protested. “We came here to kill him.”

“Yes, but we shouldn’t wait for him here,” Gabriel said. “This is not the ideal place for a battle. We need to be the ones to track him down, not the other way around.”

“How the bloody hell are we supposed to find Skala?” Seward demanded.

"There is a small inn just outside of the city. It is out of the way, quiet. I have stayed there before," Abe replied. "We need somewhere to situate ourselves—a place to meet—before we go after him. We can stay there temporarily."

“Rosalind,” I said, as a desperate thought occurred to me. “If I enter her mind again, perhaps I can locate—“

“She is dying, Mina. I don’t think she will last the hour,” Gabriel interrupted. “If she knew his exact location, you would have already seen it in her mind.”

“Then we need to find one of his ferals,” Anara said. She had been uncharacteristically quiet during our exchange. “Put one in thrall to find Skala’s exact location. We have no other way of finding him.”

“His ferals are indeed the best way of tracking him down. We need to go to areas where ferals target humans. They tend to favor populous and poor areas…that is what Vlad’s ferals did in London. Do you remember, Jack?” Abe asked, and Seward nodded.

“I remember,” he grimly replied.

“It will be best if we split up to seek them out. We can cover more of the city that way. Are we in agreement?” Abe continued.

“What do we do about Rosalind?” I asked.

“She will soon be dead,” Anara replied, her voice tight with hatred. “I will dispose of her body.”

We moved swiftly, taking our bags to the front door while Abe left a brief note of explanation to the professor. Anara made her way down to the cellar while Seward lingered behind.

“Go. I’ll stay with her,” he told us. “We’ll search the Luisenstadt neighborhood—Anara knows it well. We can join you at the inn later.”

The threat of Skala’s entrance into Berlin dominated my thoughts as our cab escorted us to the inn. I wondered with a chill if Skala was already amongst the sea of pedestrians who tended to their daily tasks, unaware of the pending danger they were under.

* * *

Later that afternoon, I walked with Abe and Gabriel through the streets of central Berlin. The city had grown since I’d last been here, it now seemed far more cluttered than London. Hansom cabs, carriages, and horse trams seemed to clog every available space of the streets. All around us and in the near distance, the spires of newly built baroque style buildings climbed into the air. Pedestrians hustled past us, and snatches of their conversations, spoken in rapid German, floated past my ears. Smoke from nearby chimneys hung heavy in the air, clogging my nostrils, and I found myself missing the cleaner air of the countryside.

I reached down, delicately touching the outline of my kukri, which was nestled beneath my sleeve. I knew that Gabriel could scent vampires; I studied him as we moved through the crowds. But he remained stoic, and I saw nothing amiss as we made our way through the teeming streets. I now feared that our task was too burdensome; Berlin was a populous city. Skala and his ferals could be anywhere.

Around midday, we’d made no progress, not finding anything untoward in the central part of the city. We decided to take a brief break, finding a pub where Abe and I could dine. My legs were strained from all the walking; I stretched my sore limbs beneath our table.

“How were you able to subdue Rosalind?” I asked Gabriel, as we ate our meal of fish paired with potatoes and bread. The pub was relatively noisy, and no one paid us any mind, except for the occasional patron who gave us a curious glance; I was the lone woman in the pub, and Gabriel was striking, he stood out in most rooms.

“We killed Rosalind’s guards; Anara was able to subdue her ferals. Anara overpowered Rosalind and put her in thrall. Anara is strong—her rage over Szabina’s death only made her stronger. She spent time with Rosalind, weakening her before we brought her with us to the city. We…buried Szabina in the forest behind the estate before we left,” he added, his eyes shadowing with bereavement.

“I’m glad you were able to bury her,” I whispered, sorrow twisting my heart as I thought of Szabina.

“When you were ill in the hospital, Mina…Szabina took me aside. She told me she knew I loved you," Abe murmured. "She told me that life was brief and I should not bury my feelings.”

"She told me to stop hating who I was," Gabriel added. “I knew no one kinder than Szabina.”

“To Szabina,” Abe said solemnly, raising his glass of ale. “Her sacrifice will never be forgotten.”

We raised our glasses as well, and finished the remainder of our meal in silence. I thought of how peaceful she’d been only moments before she was killed, our arms linked as we walked through Rosalind’s gardens; her smile as she took in the abundance of flowers. If only I‘d been able to warn the others in time. I will not lose any more of my friends, I vowed. I would do whatever it took to prevent more death.

When we left the pub, we ventured to neighborhoods adjacent to the central part of the city, arriving in an area clogged with multistory apartment buildings, with shops on the ground floor and residences on the upper floors. Such buildings were populous, with both middle class and poor residents inhabiting the apartments. They were the perfect target for a feral vampire hungry for blood and fresh victims.

We spent much time in this area, walking tensely through the streets, alert for any sort of disturbance, until the crowds grew thin.

As the sky began to darken, we found a cafe on a main boulevard for Abe and me to rest our feet. My frustration mounted as I absently sipped the tea I’d ordered. Gabriel told us he hadn’t scented any vampires, and nothing seemed out of sorts. What if Skala hadn’t come to Berlin after all? What if he had targeted a different city?

We were quiet as we left the cafe; by their tight expressions I sensed that Abe and Gabriel shared my frustration. The neighborhood was quieter now, with only a few passersby out, and fewer carriages clogged the streets.

“Perhaps we should return Mina to the inn and keep searching on our own,” Gabriel said to Abe.

“Gabriel—“ I started to protest, but my sentence was cut off by a scream.

We turned. The scream came from a nearby alley next to a lodging house. I yanked my kukri from my sleeve as we rushed towards it.

We dashed into the alley, where we found a feral vampire latched to a woman’s throat. The dead body of a man lay crumpled at their feet, his throat violently torn open.

Gabriel was on the feral in a flash, yanking him off the woman. She sank to the ground, clutching her bleeding neck.

“These streets are not safe,” I said in German, kneeling down in front of her. “You need to run—find someplace safe. Go.”

She was instantly on her feet, running away without a backward glance. I turned back to Abe and Gabriel.

Gabriel had the feral pinned to the wall by his throat, holding him in a vise like grip. He gazed into the feral’s eyes.

“Who is your master?” he asked in German.

“He is called Skala,” the vampire whispered, in a daze. “Aurel Skala.”

“Where is he now? Is he in Berlin? What street?” Gabriel pressed.

“House,” he murmured. “House…in Wedding. On Oudenarder.”

Gabriel snapped the feral’s neck with a quick flick of his wrist, stepping back as he sank to the ground, dead. I blinked, startled. My brother was usually so quiet and mild mannered that I often forgot he was half vampire. Though Gabriel didn’t enjoy killing, he was exceptionally efficient at the act.

“It had to be done,” he said simply. “He would have gone obediently to his master. Come. We must leave.”

We found Seward and Anara waiting back at the inn, in one of the rooms we’d reserved for the night.

Seward told us they’d also captured a feral, lurking near a brothel just after nightfall. The feral had conveyed similar information—that Skala was currently lodged in the Wedding neighborhood.

“An ideal location for that bloody monster,” Seward spat. “It’s full of tenement buildings and lodging houses, all inhabited by poor residents. Plenty of victims for him and his ferals.”

“Then we do not have much time. We need to surround him—get him isolated—and attack,” Abe said.

They began to discuss the potential plan of attack. But their words faded as my gaze settled on Abe. I was fearful for him, more than anyone in our group. He had killed Ilona Draculesti, whom Skala loved. The fear for Abe had been lurking within me ever since he’d agreed to use himself as bait at Rosalind’s estate. It had been there when I thought we’d confront Skala at Rosalind’s estate, and even when we were searching for Skala’s ferals on the streets.

But now that the confrontation with Skala was actually upon us, my fear had sprung into full bloom. I was now desperate to keep him away from Skala and his wrath.

I was the one who had lured Vlad and Ilona to the estate in Carfax and killed Vlad. I was one of the last descendants of the Ghyslaine family, a family name hated by many vampires to this day. I had gotten into Vlad’s mind and killed him…surely I could do the same with Skala.

But I knew Abe and my friends would never allow me to go after him on my own. I thought of Abe’s words at Rosalind’s estate. I will always risk my life for you, he had promised. Always, my heart.

My stomach lurched with anxiety at the memory. I would not allow Abe to risk his life.

I excused myself to go to another room we’d reserved, telling them my fatigue had caught up with me. Abe looked pleased that I was getting some rest, and a flicker of guilt darted through me over my lie.

I love you, I thought fervently, as he brushed my lips with his before I left the room. I’m doing this for you.

Once I was alone, I unearthed two more stakes from one of our bags, stuffing them in my bodice and sleeves, along with my kukri.

I peered out the door. The others were in the adjacent room, but the door was closed, and I could hear the low rumble of their voices.

I glanced behind me. I’d changed out of my walking dress and into a fresh one, leaving the old one on the bed, which carried the scent of my sweat. It would give me some time; the vampires would assume I was still inside the room by my lingering scent.

I slipped out the door, hurrying down the stairs. The downstairs dining area was empty, and I left out the front door unnoticed. Out on the street, I immediately found a cab to take me across town.

As the cab clattered into the city, I rehearsed my hastily decided upon plan in my mind. I needed to isolate Skala and get him close to me, close enough to look into his eyes and probe his mind, before staking him through the heart. I calmed myself with the reminder that I’d killed a powerful vampire before, and my experience with Rosalind and the ferals back in England indicated that my ability was still strong. It was just a matter or isolating him, which would take great care.

The cab soon arrived in the Wedding neighborhood, stopping at the far end of Oudenarder street. I scanned the row of buildings; which were all run down and decrepit, wondering which building Skala was in. I would have to bide my time.

The driver turned, giving me an expectant look.

“If I pay you, may I just…sit here for an hour?” I asked, in halting German.

The driver studied me, his gaze sweeping from my face to my dress with suspicion. He likely thought I was a prostitute, though I wasn’t dressed the part.

“How much?” he asked.

His eyes went wide at the number I gave, and he nodded in eager agreement, taking the money I handed him before stepping from the cab.

Once I was alone, I sank back in my seat, training my gaze on the row of buildings. I would have to eventually step out and reveal myself, hoping that Skala would be able to scent my blood; a vampire of the Old Families would know I was a Ghyslaine. But I needed him to be alone… my plan wouldn’t work if he were with other vampires.

I stiffened when I saw two vampires exit one of the buildings. It was their deathly pale skin, slightly flushed with blood, and their great height that gave them away. My heart began to ricochet in my chest; this must be where Skala was lodged. The vampires disappeared down the street, and I fought the urge to follow them—they were no doubt in search of fresh human prey. I needed to remain focused on Skala.

Another vampire exited the building once they were gone, and I froze.

I recognized this vampire. It was the vampire I’d seen in Rosalind’s mind—Aurel Skala.

He bore the uncommon height and breadth of most vampires. His features were aristocratic; a prominent brow, high cheekbones, and a wide mouth. I thought of Anara’s words describing his viciousness. In the flesh, he looked nothing like the monster she’d described. With his flaxen curls and dove grey eyes, he possessed the dark beauty of a fallen angel. I could now understand how he was able to seduce the young human woman Rosalind had once been.

But I knew who he was. What he was. And I was going to kill him.

He turned to head down a small side street only a few yards away. I waited to see if any other vampires would join him, but he was alone, and no other creature exited the building. Perhaps he was going to hunt, like the other two vampires I’d seen. Anara once told me that powerful vampires preferred to hunt alone.

I stepped out of the carriage and hurried after him, maintaining a decent distance as I took out my kukri. If I aimed it perfectly, I could slice his head clean off his shoulders, and hurl my stake into the center of his back, all from a safe distance.

I arrived at the side street. Skala was already half way down it, his head bowed as he walked. I stopped, angling my kukri.

Focus, I thought. Focus.

I raised my kukri, and hurled it through the air.

But Skala whipped around, catching it in his hand by the blade, his palm going crimson with blood as it sank into his skin. His grey eyes focused on mine, and I was hurled against the brick wall behind me, paralyzed.

Skala was before me in an instant, his fangs bared, his eyes completely black with bloodlust as he sank them into my throat, and darkness claimed me.

10

Dance of Pain

My entire existence was a maelstrom of pain.

I sat nude and trembling in a massive dark cellar, my wrists shackled to the wall behind me. Warm blood slicked my bare back, seeping through the open wounds that criss-crossed my skin. The chains clamped around my wrists dug into my flesh. My whole body was scarred and bruised, and I could taste the coppery scent of my blood, which seeped from the sides of my mouth. I had my eyes clamped shut, as if I could somehow shield myself from the memory of the torment I’d endured…would continue to endure.

Everything had happened instantaneously. One moment I was in the alley with Skala’s fangs buried in my throat, and the next I was alone in this cellar, stripped nude, my wrists chained to the wall. I’d jerked back when Skala entered the cellar, his searing gaze like sharp knives on my skin.

He took me in for a long moment, his grey gaze traveling from the top of my head to my toes. I wanted to shield my nude body from his eyes, though his appraisal was not sexual; there was only a barely controlled fury, like a beast temporarily confined to its cage before being unleashed.

“You will die tonight, Ghyslaine,” he said. His voice was deep and melodic, a sound many would no doubt find seductive; but to me it was like nails being driven into my eardrums. “It will not be an ordinary death. I will drain you and make you one of my loyal children…your mind will not be your own and you will do as I wish. Did you know that Rosalind once hated me? Quite fiercely. In the end…she died for me. Your fate will be far, far worse. Your first task will be to kill the ones you love. I know that is your greatest fear.”

I tried not to show any of the panic that shot through me at his words. But I failed, and his smile widened. He approached, squatting down in front of me with lithe ease, placing both of his icy hands on the sides of my face. I shivered not from the coldness of his skin, but from the raw savagery in his eyes, the promise of violence.

“I have been in your mind, Wilhelmina Ghyslaine. I know what you fear. It is why you foolishly came to me on your own. You want to spare the lives of your friends. When I have made you vampire, a part of your old self will still be alive, lurking beneath the surface…but you will be unable to stop yourself as you kill them for me.”

Tendrils of horror coiled through me at his words. I recalled the brief flash of humanity I’d seen in the eyes of the feral vampire who attacked me back in England; the combination of anguish and regret, realization and sorrow. Death would be a blessing compared to such a fate.

“That will be later. We have much time,” he continued, his tone turning pleasant, as if he were discussing something mundane, like the weather or a train schedule. “You are responsible for the deaths of my ally, Vlad, and my love, Ilona. For that, you must suffer great agony. I rather enjoyed dancing,” he added. I blinked, wondering with dread what dancing had to do with my agony. “There is a special one I do with my enemies. Would you like to know what it is called?”

I didn't answer, trying to keep my wits about me. I needed to get into his mind, the way I had with Rosalind. It was the only chance I had for survival. I tried to focus, to set my panic aside as I looked into his eyes.

But he grabbed me by the throat, cutting off my air, and as I struggled to breathe, I lost my tenuous focus to a wild panic.

“The dance of pain,” he whispered.

And there was pain.

He moved lightning fast, lurching forward to sink his fangs into my throat, draining me of my blood. The edges of my vision began to blur, I was helpless to stop him.

He abruptly tore his fangs from my throat, blinking with surprise, my blood staining the corners of his mouth.

“You do not taste like most humans,” he murmured with intrigue, his eyes raking over my face. “Perhaps it is because of your treacherous bloodline.”

He reached into his jacket, taking out my kukri. I cried out as he grabbed me by my hair, yanking me violently forward, granting him access to my bare back.

He pressed the blade firmly into my skin, dragging it across my back in a crisscross pattern, as if he were making a macabre drawing. I wanted to keep silent, to maintain some semblance of defiance, but the searing agony from my splitting flesh was more than I could bear, and I screamed.

Skala was relentless in his pursuit of my torment. He would alternate between sinking his fangs into the delicate flesh of my throat, dragging the blade of my kukri along my already torn and bleeding flesh, or strangling me to the brink of unconsciousness. He would not let me slip into the comforting grip of blackness, slamming my head against the wall any time my eyes closed. Each time I tried to enter his mind, the excruciating pain that coursed through my body made it impossible for me to concentrate. I soon stopped trying; I no longer had the will nor fortitude.

Torture was oddly intimate; Skala’s presence consumed every part of me. I was acutely aware of everything about him; the coppery odor of my blood on his skin, the ice of his hands on my bruised and splintered flesh, the melodic timbre of his voice in my eardrums.

I tried to think of Abe, the feel of him, the essence of him, something that would anchor me to any place but here. Yet with every moment that passed, the memory of Abe grew further and further away. Unable to escape into my mind, I soon felt separate from myself, like a shadow; my life before this cellar had just been a dream. Or perhaps I’d died after all, and this cellar was my hell.

Now I sat alone in the cellar. I didn’t recall when Skala left; time had become an abstract series of moments, haphazardly strung together.

Footsteps entered the room, and I didn’t need to look up to know it was Skala. From somewhere deep inside me, the place where I still existed, I let out a silent wail of despair. I could not bear any more torture.

“Look at me!” Skala demanded.

I forced myself to oblige. Defiance was a part of the old Mina, the Mina who was now shadow.

Skala was shirtless, his mouth and torso splattered with blood. My blood, I thought absently. His eyes were wild with excitement; he looked pleased at the sight of my broken body. His torture was not just about revenge; he was enjoying this.

He is vicious, Anara had said. He takes great pleasure in causing others pain—human or vampire.

“We will destroy all light. The world will be ours. This will never end, my child. Your agony will be eternal. I will never release you from your torment, even after you serve me. How fitting that a Ghyslaine will be slave to a vampire.”

I stared at him, numb, though there was a trace of sorrow in my heart. The Mina who I’d been was rapidly fading away, and I could no longer hold onto her. I no longer wanted to. That Mina was surrounded by death and pain. Now there was…nothing. A blissful nothing.

I smiled.

Skala scowled. It was not the horrified reaction he’d been seeking. I continued to smile, and darkness began to blur the edges of my vision, until the cellar faded away.

I was seated in my mother’s lap on the floor of my childhood bedroom. Her arms were wrapped tightly around me. She rocked me back and forth, tears streaming down her face.

“I am so sorry, poppet,” she whispered, stroking my hair. “I tried to hide you away from the monsters. I tried to keep you safe.”

“It was my choice, Mama,” I said calmly. “I chose to chase after them.”

“Why, my darling?” she wept, pressing her tear streaked face into my hair. “Why? When your father and I tried so desperately to keep you safe?”

“The monsters were going to make the whole world their own,” I said. “I had to stop it.”

My mother continued to weep. I reached up to touch her face, which was crumpled with anguish, wanting to comfort her, wanting her to share my calm acceptance.

“I will die soon,” I said. “It is all right. I…I am sorry.”

“No,” she said. She gripped my face, a sudden determination in her expression. “No. You will not die. Do you remember all of those bedtime stories I told you? All of those stories about monsters?”

“Yes,” I replied. A blackness was starting to fill in the edges of the room. Soon everything would be black, and I would be gone from this place. “Your stories were really about vampires. I know that now.”

“They were more than that,” she said urgently. Her brown eyes were bloodshot with tears, but there was a new sense of fortitude now, a fierceness that had burrowed up from the grief. “They were lessons. Lessons, my darling. How to fight if they ever caught you. And if it came to it…how to escape. I need you to remember those stories, my love. Every single one. It is the only way to save your life! Do you understand? It is the only—“

“WAKE UP!”

A sharp crack brought me back to consciousness, and I was once again in the cellar. Skala had my left hand in his. I dimly realized that he was breaking each of my fingers, one by one. My bones were making the cracking sounds.

“I will not allow you to retreat into your mind!” Skala snarled. “You will feel every moment of this…for the rest of your existence.”

He dropped my hand, and it fell uselessly to my side, throbbing with pain. I wanted to return to the comfort of my mother’s arms, to the warmth of my memory. She’d been trying to tell me something. I needed to go back.

A blow fell across my face, tearing me from my thoughts, and Skala yanked my hair back, again sinking his fangs into my throat. I closed my eyes, willing the dark to claim me once more, so that I could return to my mother.

Skala suddenly released me, stumbling to his feet, his hand flying to his bleeding mouth.

“No…” he whispered. “Your blood…now I understand…”

I blinked at him, dazed. He was looking at me with terror, as if I were the one torturing him.

“Lil shi’l necre,” he breathed, uttering words from the strange vampiric language I'd only heard a few times before. “You are already of the Blood. How?”

He looked infuriated; I braced myself for more torment. I didn’t know what he meant, and I was too weak to speak. I just wanted to return to my dream. What had my mother been trying to tell me?

“LOOK AT ME!” Skala bellowed. He kneeled before me, jerking my hair back to force me to look at him, and I could feel strands of hair tear from my scalp. “How does a Ghyslaine—a family that once tried to destroy vampires—have vampire blood? How?”

For a moment, my physical agony receded as his words began to penetrate.

“I can taste it in your blood. It is why you taste different,” he said, looking at me with pure disgust. “Vampire blood runs through your veins. A member of your treacherous line was vampire.”

11

Bloodlines

The cellar seemed to blur around me; my heart slammed against my ribcage in a thunderous rhythm. Emotions I'd suppressed during my torture crawled back to the surface of my consciousness, and my dulled senses slowly came back to life. A multitude of recent events flickered through my mind.

Weeks ago, our train had derailed during our journey to Transylvania to rescue Jonathan. I'd been surrounded by vampires in a forest clearing after the crash, and I was certain they would kill me. But they had left me alive, after uttering the same strange words Skala had spoken—Lil shi’l necre. They must have known that I had vampire ancestry from my blood.

I thought of my brief time in Debrecen after we’d rescued Jonathan from Vlad’s fortress, when I'd intentionally allowed one of Vlad’s ferals to drain and transform me in order to lure him to us. I'd begun the vampiric transformation more rapidly than everyone anticipated. Even Szabina had been amazed. I have never seen the transformation take hold so swiftly, she’d said.

It all made sense now. My mother’s ability to bear a child that was half vampire. My ability to remove myself from the vampiric thrall and enter the minds of vampires, something that no human was able to do. The reason my ancestors had stopped hunting vampires and worked to protect them instead. One of them mated with a vampire, which meant…I had vampire ancestry.

Skala’s hand around my throat jolted me back to the present. I met his enraged gaze as he began to squeeze.

“This changes nothing,” he growled.

My old defiance coupled with determination stirred beneath the haze I'd been under. Though the revelation horrified me, it served its purpose. I had come alive again. I would not give in to this monster.

I recalled my mother’s words in my dream. The stories she told me as a child were more than just bedtime stories, she’d said. They were lessons.

Lessons for what? I mentally picked my way through snippets of memories, fighting to remember any detail about her stories.

“If I can no longer drain you myself…I shall do it the human way,” Skala said, shaking with fury as he reached for my kukri, which now dripped with my blood. “These are your last few moments when your mind is still your own.”

I tried not to panic, struggling to recall anything I could, until I seized upon a distant memory. I'd once asked her how to defeat the monsters she told me about in her stories. Weaknesses, she had replied. Every monster has a weakness.

I was in no position to physically overpower Skala, and my own pain had prevented me from entering his mind. If I couldn’t go after a physical weakness, I would have to go after a mental one. Even monsters like Skala had a heart, something or someone they cared about. Rosalind had unknowingly given me a gift when she told us Skala loved Ilona. It was the only weapon I had at my disposal.

Skala again gripped my hair, lazily dragging my kukri along the base of my throat, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

I would have to move quickly. Soon I would lose consciousness, and Skala would force me to drink his blood.

I twisted my head away, spotting something on the ground. My potential salvation. A wooden splinter, the size of my hand. It was small… but it could work.

Skala jerked my face back towards him, positioning the blade at the center of my throat. Before he could press it into my skin, I gave him a twisted smile.

Skala faltered, blinking in surprise.

“Ilona never loved you,” I said, my words coming out in a thin rasp. “Never you. You never even existed for her.”

Skala went very still. Though he tried to keep his face impassive, I saw a flicker of something in his expression. A flicker of something human. All monsters have weaknesses.

“Silence,” Skala spat. He held my kukri still, though his powerful body vibrated with rage and tension. I could only pray that I would survive his pending onslaught of fury.

“You—you were nothing to her,” I rasped. “You always knew that, did you not? She would not care about you avenging her. You meant nothing—“

Skala let out a ferocious growl, dropping the kukri. He reached down to grip my bruised arms, yanking me towards him so violently that the chains that bound me to the wall disintegrated. He threw me onto the ground, and a bone in my shoulder cracked upon impact. Skala straddled me, his fangs bared and his eyes, which had gone completely black, focused on my throat. He was no longer concerned with deriving pleasure through torture. He craved my death. He was going to tear out my throat.

I moved as quickly as I was able. With my free hand I reached for the wooden splinter that I’d subtly slid behind my back while taunting Skala. It still rested against the wall, and I grabbed it.

He was still focused on my throat. I lifted up the splinter with my bruised arm, sinking it into his left eye. Skala howled with surprise. Temporarily blinded as blood gushed from his eye socket, he scrambled off of me.

I sat up, trying to get to my feet, but I had lost too much blood, and I was too faint to stand. The cellar began to dim around me. It would only be moments before the darkness claimed me, and Skala would have his vengeance with my death.

Skala leapt onto me, his once handsome face now monstrous, his left eye missing, the eye socket empty and dripping with blood.

If I had the strength to scream I would have, as his fangs were soon on my throat. I could feel my flesh peel away; my blood gushing from the open wound.

I tried, Mama, I heard the little girl version of me whisper to my mother in my mind. I know, my darling, her voice was distant and sad. I know.

From somewhere far away, I heard a shot ring out, and the cries of vaguely familiar voices, but the world was already fading around me to nothing.

* * *

I could not tell if I was awake, dreaming, or dead.

I was aware of moments, instances suspended in time.

I sat cradled in Abe’s arms in the back of a carriage. He wept as he held me in his arms, his face crumpled with grief.

I lay on a bed while Abe wiped blood from my skin with a cool cloth, his eyes shadowed and his face stubbled with unshaven growth.

I lay beneath the thin covers of a bed, a dull ache radiating throughout my body. I could hear voices. An argument? My blood can heal her faster, we should try—I do not want to risk trying anything, let us see how the transfusion takes—When will she get her strength back?—It does not matter!

And there were nightmares. I was once again in the cellar with Skala as he tore into my flesh with his teeth and my knife. Or I was in Transylvania, standing in a forest clearing between the dead bodies of my parents, too numb to weep or feel any grief. Or I was a mindless feral, feasting upon and killing innocent humans, while my true self cried out in protest.

I shifted between these states in an endless circle, until I gradually became aware of my true surroundings, like a submerged swimmer making her way to the surface from the depths of a murky ocean.

I opened my eyes. I was on a bed, in a room I recognized. It was the guest bedroom of the professor's home. I was still in Berlin.

Outside, I could hear the bustle of a city street—muffled voices, the clatter of multiple horse hooves, the distant bell tolls of a church. From the room below my bedroom, I heard a familiar murmur of voices—Abe, Seward, Anara, Gabriel—and others I didn’t recognize.

Remnant pain throbbed throughout my limbs as I looked down at my body. Bandages were secured around much of my skin, including a large one wrapped around my throat. On the exposed skin that was not bandaged, I could see the various wounds Skala had made. I again saw him in my mind’s eye, grinning with pleasure as I screamed.

“Mina.”

I jumped. Abe stood at the doorway of the bedroom. His eyes were bloodshot with fatigue. He’d grown a small beard, his hair wild and untamed. The last time I’d seen him so unkempt was in the days after my father’s death.

Yet the sight of him filled me with love. My face crumpled and I sat up, ignoring the sharp stabs of pain that pierced my body, holding out my arms.

He was at my side at once, holding me close and stroking my hair as I wept into his chest, the horrible memories of my torture filtering into my mind. Someone else must have appeared at the door as I wept, because he whispered, “Leave us.”

I wept until I had no more tears, and even then Abe did not press me to talk; he simply held me in his arms.

“Skala is dead. He cannot harm you—or anyone—ever again,” he finally whispered.

Relief flowed through me at his words. We held each other for a few more moments before I spoke.

“There—there is something I need to tell you,” I began, my voice raw from disuse. I needed to tell him about the revelation of my vampire ancestry.

“No. You need to heal first. That is all you must focus on.”

“I will,” I promised. I didn’t know how long it would take for my mind and body to fully heal from the trauma I'd undergone with Skala, but I would not force it.

I pulled back from Abe, looking down at the bandages on my body. Though I was still sore, I seemed to be more healed than I should be, given what Skala had done to me.

“A week has passed since we rescued you. I had to give you a transfusion. If you are wondering why you're more healed than you should be…it is because Gabriel insisted on giving you his blood. It appears he was right…it has accelerated your healing process,” he said, looking guilty at the admission. “I know that having vampire blood in your system may be upsetting, but we were afraid that you—“

"There may be another reason I've healed so swiftly," I interrupted. "I need to tell you what I've discovered about myself."

12

The Order

After I told Abe about the revelation of my vampire ancestry, he went pale and silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, he informed me that two members of the Order of the Dragon were downstairs, along with our allies, Nikolaus and Kudret. Though he trusted them, he wanted to keep my news to our core group.

Moments later, he herded Anara, Seward, and Gabriel into the room. After Gabriel embraced me, whispering his relief that I was well, I revealed what I had learned.

“This answers many of our questions,” I said, trying not to focus on how they were all looking at me—as if I were a completely different person. “It explains why my mother was able to give birth to you, Gabriel. Why I’m able to break the thrall and enter the minds of vampires. Why my blood has made some vampires sick. Why those vampires left me alive after the train derailment weeks ago. Why the Ghyslaine family stopped hunting vampires—one of them mated with one. Why I was able to fully recover from the confrontation with Vlad Draculesti.”

“Bloody hell, Mina,” Seward whispered, his gaze raking over me with vague suspicion. “This whole time you’ve been vampire?”

“She’s not vampire,” Abe said, glaring at him. “This just means that one of her ancestors—most likely a distant one— was vampire. Mina is human, but she carries a trace of vampire blood.”

“We need to keep this amongst ourselves,” Gabriel said, giving the others a firm look. “I believe the others downstairs are true to their word, but we need to be more cautious after what happened with Rosalind.”

Abe informed me of the details of my rescue. After I’d snuck out of the inn, Anara had gone into the city to check for any contact from our allies at a hotel. Nikolaus and Kudret had indeed sent a wire, with a message that they'd found two members of the Order in Germany who were willing to help us. They’d arrived in Berlin that same morning.

“Szabina was right to send them away to seek allies…they succeeded,” Anara said, her eyes glistening as she spoke of Szabina. Anara replied to their wire, and Nikolaus and Kudret had come to the inn, bringing with them the Order members, Rudella and Clovis. It was shortly after their arrival that the group discovered I’d gone missing from my room.

My friends immediately suspected I'd gone after Skala on my own, but they found no sign of him on Oudenarder street. It wasn’t until Anara ensnared a group of Skala’s ferals hovering in an alley nearby that they were able to determine where I was being kept prisoner—at Rosalind's estate, in one of the cellars.

“How was Skala killed?” I asked, fury filling me at the very thought of him. If only I hadn’t been so injured and frail, I would have gladly killed the monster myself.

“Seward weakened him with his revolver. I ripped his heart from his chest,” Anara said, her voice dripping with hatred that matched my own. “It was too kind of a death for him. But we had no time; we had to battle his followers just to get inside. We were fortunate that so many of them were newborns and died with him.”

“While you’ve been recovering, we’ve been scouring the city for any of his remaining survivors—or any dangerous vampires at all. It seems as if many of them have fled,” Gabriel added. “We fear they may have gone on to serve Bathory, continue Skala’s work—or both. The attacks in Berlin have lessened—but they continue in other cities.”

“Are we any closer to finding Bathory?” I asked.

“That is none of your concern,” Abe interjected. “You will rest and recuperate for at least a fortnight—longer if necessary. Regardless of your ancestry, you are still human and need time to heal.”

I wasn’t going to argue with him. My body ached, and I was still shaken over the torture I’d suffered at Skala’s hands.

Everyone left the room to allow me to get more rest, but not before each of them embraced me, even Anara, who urged me to rest and heal.

Over the course of the next few days, I dutifully remained in bed, eating the meals I was served and drinking copious amounts of water and tea. Abe periodically inspected my healing wounds beneath my bandages. Though he tried to maintain the clinical dispassion of a doctor, I could see the anger in his eyes at the visible reminders of what Skala had done to me.

I tried not to think of my time with Skala, but during my restless sleep, memories of Skala’s fangs on my skin, his hands on my throat, and his blade carving wounds into my back consumed my nightmares. I often awoke in the middle of the night, trembling and attempting to stifle my sobs. Each time Abe would rush to my side from the next room, rocking me in his arms until I fell asleep once more.

“I tried to stop the torture,” I whispered, after one especially gruesome nightmare. “I tried to enter his mind…but I was too weak. There was too much pain.”

“What that monster did to you was not your fault,” Abe murmured against my hair, holding me close. “You survived, and he is dead. That is all that matters.”

Gabriel would come to sit at my side during some of the days. We would mostly sit in companionable silence as I ate, or he would give me cursory updates as to what the others were up to. I still had not formally met Rudella or Clovis; Abe wanted me to focus fully on my recovery. Gabriel did tell me that they were making inquiries as to Bathory’s whereabouts, but he would not give me further details, and I did not press.

After a full week passed, Abe grudgingly informed me that I should start taking walks to get some sunlight and refresh my stagnated limbs—but my walks would be confined only to the street the professor’s home occupied in case we were still being watched.

I didn’t realize how much I missed the outdoors until I was once again in the sun, walking tentatively down the street on my sore legs, my arm linked with Abe’s, flanked by both Gabriel and Nikolaus. As I took in the sights of everyday life—women perusing the local shops, couples and families walking through the nearby park, carriages jostling their way through the streets—I realized that this was one of the things we were fighting for. The simplicity of everyday human life.

“What is it?” Abe asked, pressing me close to his side when he noticed the shift in my countenance.

“I never thought I would see such a sight again. Sunlight, shoppers, markets, carriages,” I whispered.

Abe did not respond, but raw emotion flared in his eyes. When we returned to the house, he helped me settle back into bed, taking my hands in his.

“I will not scold you for going after Skala on your own—not after what you have endured at that monster’s hands,” he whispered. “You know that I will never ask you to give up this fight—but please do not ever put yourself in danger like that again. I need your word. Swear to me, Mina.”

“You have my word,” I said, and I meant it. I had paid dearly for my rashness. I knew my nightmares would be filled with images of what I’d suffered in that cellar for weeks—perhaps even years—to come.

Abe leaned forward to press his lips against mine. It was meant to be a gesture of assurance and love, but it quickly deepened, and we kissed fervently, our bodies humming with mutual need and desire. Physical longing for Abe spiraled within me; I wanted his body pressed to mine, to be assured that he was real and safe and I was alive, we were both alive, but I knew he wouldn't want to risk hurting me.

Abe reluctantly ended the kiss, resting his forehead against mine.

“We have lost so much during this journey,” I whispered, wanting to explain why I’d gone after Skala on my own. “I’ve already lost my parents. We've lost our friends—Arthur, Radu, Szabina. I feared you would die at Skala’s hands. Losing you is unbearable to me.”

“Loss is a part of life, my heart. We knew this journey would be treacherous. The best way to ensure our safety is to work together…not rashly go off on our own.”

He was right, though the fear of losing him was still palpable, even after what I’d gone through. He leaned back and placed a loving kiss on my forehead.

“Rest,” he urged, before leaving the room.

I continued to spend the days resting in bed or taking brief walks with the others. Nikolaus and Kudret often shadowed me on my walks. Their presence was both familiar and comforting, they had accompanied me as my protectors back in London. I was curious about their own journey in finding allies to help us, but I did not ask them, heeding Abe’s advice about focusing on my recovery. I knew that the others were busy planning how to track down Bathory and destroy her, along with any stray followers of the two vampire leaders we’d already killed.

I caught glimpses of the two members of the Order when I returned to the house after my walks. Clovis was a tall and lanky vampire with curly dark hair and eyes the color of indigo, while Rudella was a petite human woman with long red hair that she wore defiantly loose, and intelligent eyes. They watched me with curiosity but never introduced themselves; I suspected that my friends had asked them to let me recuperate and not involve me in their plans.

Towards the end of the fortnight, the physical signs of what I had gone through at Skala’s hands began to vanish. My body aches faded to a dull echo, my bruises began to disappear into faint traces on my skin. The emotional trauma lingered—Vlad’s face had been replaced in my nightmares by Skala, even my waking hours were haunted by the image of his savage and leering face.

I had to actively put aside the dark memory of my time in the cellar and bury it someplace deep in my mind. I needed to occupy my time—I needed to rejoin the fight.

After the full fortnight had passed, I pulled Abe and Gabriel aside in the drawing room to tell them I was ready to be involved.

They exchanged an uneasy glance. After a long moment, they gave me a reluctant nod. They called the others into the room, and I was formerly introduced to Clovis and Rudella.

“We have been making inquiries,” Clovis informed me. “A member of the Order in France sent us a wire informing us that one of Bathory’s most prominent followers is in Paris—his name is Francois. He has been rather brazen in making newborn vampires—even humans have become aware of his activities, though they think the ferals he’s created are the result of the new illness—the Blood Plague. Our contact told us that Bathory herself was spotted visiting him weeks ago before she vanished again. Sometimes she appears at the masquerade balls he has at his home. If anyone knows where she is, it would be him.”

“Paris is where we must go,” Gabriel agreed. “And not just because Bathory’s follower is there. Mina, Mother’s last home is a country residence just outside of Paris. I’ve only been once; it’s crumbling and in need of upkeep. I allow the local villagers to use it as an inn from time to time, but it’s usually vacant. We’ll have a safe place to stay outside of the city.”

Gabriel had briefly told me about our mother’s home during our time in Matford; I’d intended to visit when this was all over. I was always hungry for any information about her, and the comforting dream of her in the cellar had brought her memory to the forefront of my mind.

Every eye in the room was trained on me, some lingering on the bruises around my throat that hadn’t fully faded. My friends were worried about me. No one—including Abe—had yet asked for details about what happened to me in the cellar.

An undercurrent of fear did swirl through my gut at the thought of confronting another vampire so soon after my imprisonment by Skala.

“Mina, you don’t have to continue this fight. Not after what you have been through,” Gabriel said gently. “Now that we’ve made contact with members of the Order, we can coordinate to hide you away someplace safe until Bathory is dead.”

In the past, I would have angrily dismissed his offer, but with the memory of Skala’s torture fresh in my mind, it was tempting.

Even if I were to be spirited off to some safe place, Abe and my brother would continue the fight. I wouldn’t know peace while they were in danger.

Outside, I heard the sudden peal of a child’s laughter, and I recalled Skala’s words. We will destroy all light. The world will be ours.

“No,” I said, determination lacing my words as I thought of Skala’s promise. I would not allow Bathory to bring their plans to fruition. “I will continue to fight. I must.”

13

Dark Places

Early the next morning, I stood in the corner of the bedroom, watching as Abe packed my things for our departure. I wanted to pack my own things, but Abe insisted on doing it for me. I allowed him to fuss over me; it would likely continue for some time.

My mouth twitched with amusement as he awkwardly shoved one of my walking suits into my bag.

“You have to fold it,” I prodded. For someone so brilliant, he was making a simple task needlessly complicated.

“Ah,” he muttered, his cheeks flaming as he folded the suit and placed it into my bag.

Gabriel entered the room with a mug of hot tea. He pressed it into my hands, his concerned gaze searching my face. He and the others had been giving me the same looks throughout the duration of my recovery. Though I understood their worry, the looks were becoming a bit cumbersome. Nevertheless, I gave him a reassuring smile as I accepted the tea.

“Are you nervous?” Gabriel asked. “About seeing Mother’s childhood home?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “I'm sure I will feel some sadness…but I'm eager to see it. I want to know as much about her as I can.”

“It will be difficult for me,” Gabriel said. “It's why I've only been once. A part of me has never fully recovered from her loss; I suspect I never will."

I took in the grief that shaded his eyes with compassion. I hadn’t yet told him about the dreams I had of our mother during my imprisonment; how her words may have bought me time and saved my life.

Abe was now concentrating on packing two of my hats, so I took Gabriel’s hand and led him out of the room and into the adjacent one. I would eventually tell Abe all about my experience in Skala’s cellar, but for now I wanted to share the memories of my mother with her only other child.

“I saw our mother,” I said, once we were alone. “It was halfway between a dream and a memory. I believe her words saved my life.”

“What were they?” Gabriel whispered.

“Remember the stories she used to tell you as a child? The stories about monsters and dark fairy tales? She told them to me as well.”

“Yes,” Gabriel replied, smiling at the memory.

“In my dream, she told me they were more than just stories. They were lessons…ways of preparing us to fight vampires if it ever became necessary to do so. She told me that every monster has a weakness. I used Skala’s love for Ilona against him. That’s how I was able to attack him.”

Gabriel’s eyes went wide with amazement. He walked over to a desk that was situated in the corner of the room, perching on its edge.

“Of course…it makes sense. She would often make certain I committed her stories to memory.”

“Do you think she knew somehow?” I asked. “That we would one day fight vampires?”

“I don’t know,” Gabriel replied. “Mother was…intuitive. Perhaps deep down she knew it was inevitable.”

We stood silently for a moment, ruminating over what our mother may have intuited about our adult years. Gabriel broke the silence, urging me to eat breakfast before our journey.

When we arrived in the dining room, I was surprised to see Anara helping Rudella put together plates of muffins and cold meats for us. Anara handed Seward a plate, their gazes locking intimately as Seward nodded his thanks. Anara caught me watching them and looked away. I had to hide my amusement; they were not being nearly as subtle as they thought.

It was the first time I'd taken a meal with the others since my imprisonment; all meals during my recovery had taken place in my room. I enjoyed being in the company of my friends rather than in the guest room alone, trapped with my gruesome memories of Skala.

My appetite had returned, and as I ate heartily, I learned more about Rudella and Clovis. Rudella’s parents had both been members of the Order of the Dragon, killed by vampires during their civil war. Like my parents, they hadn’t wanted her to get involved with the war, and sent her abroad to Ireland to live with a relative for her safety before they died. When she heard of renewed vampire attacks on humans several years ago, she didn't want to turn her back on what was happening.

“I tracked down Clovis,” Rudella continued, smiling at the vampire who sat at her side. “He was a friend of my parents when they were in the Order. He wanted to honor my parent’s wishes and refused to allow me to fight—but I didn’t back down.”

“That sounds quite familiar,” Seward said, giving me a pointed look. I returned his grin; I admired Rudella’s determination.

“We have done what we can to eliminate ferals…but we didn’t know who was creating them or how to stop him. We were glad to receive Nikolaus’ message requesting our assistance.”

Rudella smiled at Nikolaus, who returned it. He turned his focus to us.

“We won’t be traveling with you to Paris,” he said. A rush of disappointment filled me at his words. We desperately needed more allies, especially now that we’d lost Szabina. “Rudella and Clovis will remain in Berlin to gather more members of the Order…they are now beginning to come forward. Kudret and I have begun communicating with other members throughout Europe via wire. They’ve been emboldened by your success in killing Dracula and Skala…we believe they are ready to join the fight. If we can gather them into a small army, it will make defeating Bathory more probable.”

My disappointment turned to relief. I glanced around the table at Abe and my friends. To my surprise, they looked both angry and irritated. I frowned, confused. This was what we'd craved since the beginning of our journey—allies.

"Their joining us would have been damned helpful before," Seward snapped. “The surviving members of the Order have remained in hiding while we've done all the dangerous work."

"You have to understand their fear," Rudella said. "They have seen their loved ones die before their eyes—killed in great numbers. And many have been fighting on their own."

"We have seen our loved ones die," Anara said shortly. I knew that she was thinking of both Radu and Szabina. "I once wanted to stay out of the war, but I now see that we have no choice. We have continued to fight despite our losses."

"I understand," Nikolaus said, evenly holding Anara's furious gaze. "We cannot change the past. Szabina was my dearest friend, her loss—" his voice shook, "shatters me. She would want us all to work together. If we can gather all the remnant members of the Order who are willing to fight, then we can defeat Bathory and her followers."

Though there was truth in his words, the tension lingered as we finished our meal. Before we all left the house to go our separate ways, Nikolaus promised Anara he would continue to keep us updated about assistance from the Order via wire.

“Undertake your journey with caution. Bathory is far more powerful than Dracula or Skala,” Nikolaus urged, giving us a brief nod of farewell before departing with Kudret and the others.

“Nikolaus is right about the Order,” I told Abe, when we were in the back of a cab that made its way towards the train station. “This is what we wanted—the Order of the Dragon joining us to fight.”

“Where were they when we attacked Vlad’s fortress on our own? While you were being tortured by Skala?” Abe demanded, his expression stormy. “If they had joined us earlier, perhaps Arthur would still be alive. Or Radu…Szabina. Perhaps you never would have been captured by Skala. They have joined the fight when it is nearly over.”

Abe looked increasingly angry as he spoke. I somewhat understood his frustration—we had been on our own since the beginning. But I suspected his anger had more to do with my torture at Skala’s hands than anything else; I had no doubt that he blamed himself.

“Abe,” I whispered, taking his hands in mine and kissing his palms. “A wise man—I believe his name was Doctor Abraham Van Helsing—once told me it would not do to dwell on the past.”

Abe’s fury seemed to subside at my words. He smiled, leaning in to place a loving kiss on my lips.

When we arrived at the train station, Anara and Gabriel walked in tandem with me. Passersby cast me curious glances; they most likely thought I was an aristocrat or the daughter of some dignitary the way the vampires were hovering about. Before my imprisonment with Skala, I would have been irritated by their hovering, but now I felt protected by their proximity.

When the train hurtled away from Berlin towards Paris, I sat nestled in between Abe and Gabriel. My light mood had begun to fade, and like an ever-present shadow, images of my time with Skala once again flickered through my mind. His fangs stained with my blood. His eyes, wild and black as he lunged for my throat. His cold hands on my skin, casually breaking my bones.

“Mina,” Abe whispered, as I shivered at the memory. He had sensed what occupied my restless thoughts. “They are just thoughts. Do not allow them to carry you off to dark places.”

I nodded, but it was difficult to heed his words. He pulled me close and proceeded to distract me with stories. He told me of experiments he performed with Father, his own experiments, observations from his travels, amusing stories about his students. His words lulled me into such a state of comfort that I rested my head on his shoulder, drifting off to sleep.

When I awoke, both Abe and Gabriel were gone; the train was empty. Panicked, I stood up and looked around. I froze when I saw who stood at the far end of the empty train compartment.

It was Skala. He was crouched in an animalistic stance, one of his eyeballs now missing from its bleeding and empty socket, his bloodstained mouth open in a snarl.

Fear raced through my entire body, and I stumbled backward.

“No,” I whispered, barely able to breathe. “No…”

“Yes,” he calmly replied, and sprang towards me as I screamed.

“Mina!”

I came to as Abe shook me awake. I blinked, my breathing ragged and panicked. Gabriel was kneeling in front of me, his brows drawn together with worry, while Abe gripped my shoulders, appraising me with concern.

“You were having a nightmare. You are all right. We are here with you,” he said.

Other passengers were staring at me, and I flushed with embarrassment. I gave them a nod to indicate I was fine.

Gabriel sat back down next to me. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths as Abe pulled me close, stroking my hair. I feared that even in death, Skala would continue to torture me.

I was relieved when the train finally arrived in Paris. The crisp night air prickled my skin as I stepped out of the train, my arm linked with Abe’s. The carriage Anara had ordered was waiting for us, and we were soon being whisked down the wide boulevards of Paris, which were slick from a recent rainfall. The illumination from multiple gas lamps that dotted the streets cast ominous shadows of the few pedestrians we passed. The streets seemed quieter than usual, and unease crawled through my chest at the sight.

I had been to Paris before, accompanying Father and Abe to conferences. I’d spent some time exploring the multitude of shops, museums, and boulangeries, pungent with the fresh smell of baking bread. I’d even admired the Eiffel Tower with Abe, and though it was nightfall when we’d finally returned to our hotel, the streets still teemed with life.

Now, I exchanged a nervous glance with Abe. The streets of Paris usually bustled with humanity at night. The empty streets could very well be the work of Bathory’s follower Francois. Parisian humans may have been too frightened to wander the streets after dark.

Our carriage soon left the lights of the city behind. It made its way through the dark countryside, until it approached a sprawling country home. I studied it intently as we neared. This had been the home where my mother had spent her childhood. Here, she had been Isabel Ghyslaine, before she became Eva Murray, wife of Robert Murray, mother to Gabriel and then me.

After the carriage dropped us in front of the house, Abe and the others purposefully lingered behind while Gabriel and I approached.

It must have once been a grand home, with its stone facade, gabled roof, and multiple shuttered windows. But the exterior facade was now crumbling, the windows cracked with age and grime, and weeds grew untamed around the small winding staircase that led to a decrepit wooden front door.

Before we could even start up the steps, the door flew open. A woman stood there, blinking at me in astonishment. She was tall for a woman, with wide set brown eyes that seemed vaguely familiar, pronounced cheekbones, and a full mouth. Her curly brunette hair was gathered into a bun at the nape of her neck. This woman was vampire; I could tell by the coldness of her gaze.

Gabriel let out a protective snarl, shoving me behind him as the others rushed forward.

The vampire wasn’t at all alarmed by the threatening stances of my friends. Her astonished focus remained on me.

“My God,” she breathed. “You look exactly like her.”

Everyone froze. The vampire stepped out the front door and down the stairs, but Gabriel stepped forward with a warning growl.

“Stay where you are!”

The vampire stilled, her gaze finally straying from my face to Gabriel’s, and her hands flew to her mouth.

“Gabriel,” she whispered. “It is you. She told me you were beautiful.”

It was Gabriel’s turn to go still with surprise. The vampire pulled herself to her full height, a tentative smile tugging at her lips.

“You are Isabel's children. Wilhelmina and Gabriel,” she said. “Welcome home.”

14

Emma

I sat perched on a settee in a sparsely furnished salon next to Gabriel, clutching a mug of tea in my hands. The vampire, who told us her name was Emma, sat opposite us, while Abe and the others hovered behind us.

Emma had informed Gabriel and me that she was a distant cousin of our mother’s. She had been close with her, especially when they were both children.

“We wrote each other letters over the years,” Emma continued. She spoke English well, though she had a trace of a French accent. “My family was never involved with the Order or the war amongst vampires—we kept to ourselves. I met you briefly when you were just a baby, Mina. I was introduced to you when you were still a boy, Gabriel— though I don’t expect you to remember me. During my last visit to England, Isabel and I had a row about her involvement with the Order. I thought she should stay in England with her children and husband, but she believed the world would never be safe with creatures like Vlad trying to wreak havoc on humanity. We did not speak after that, and I moved to America. Our row is the regret of my life. I was devastated when I learned of her death,” Emma said, her eyes glistening with tears. “Yet it made me even more determined to stay out of the conflict. I only left America because my beloved husband died,” she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. “My parents are dead as well…I thought my entire family was lost to me. I just arrived days ago…this house is one of the few connections I have to family. I intend to restore the house and settle here. It is too large for just me; I want to turn it into an inn—if it is all right with you both,” she added hastily. “The locals remembered me from years ago. They were the ones who let me in.”

“Are you like me?” Gabriel asked, disregarding her inquiry about the house. His gaze was intent on her face. “Were you born vampire? Or were you turned?”

“I am like you,” Emma replied. “My mother was vampire and my father human. My mother chose death after my father died of old age. Both my parents urged Isabel’s family to stay away from the Order and the vampire conflict…they seemed to know what was coming.”

I was silent, reeling from her words, though the existence of another vampire relative should have come as no surprise, now that I knew there was vampire ancestry in my family line.

“This is a lovely story,” Anara said. She’d been leaning against the wall as Emma spoke, studying her with suspicion. “How do we know you speak the truth?”

“Anara,” Seward said, but she ignored him, pushing herself away from the wall to stalk towards Emma.

“How do we know you’re not working for Skala or Bathory or any of the vampires on the other side of this war?” Anara demanded, stopping directly in front of Emma.

My first instinct was to stop Anara’s questioning of Emma, but I hesitated. Emma seemed genuine, but Rosalind had also seemed sincere.

“Why would I lie about such a thing?” Emma asked, looking at Anara with incredulity.

“We have been betrayed before,” I murmured.

I briefly told her of our journey; how we had killed Vlad Draculesti and Aurel Skala, our intention to find and kill Elizabeth Bathory through her follower in Paris, Francois. Though I told her of Rosalind’s betrayal, I did not mention my imprisonment with Skala for fear that speaking of it would bring those ghastly memories to the forefront of my mind. I had managed to keep them at bay since stepping off the train in Paris.

“My God,” Emma said, when I fell silent, her eyes wide. “That is why you are here…you have both followed in your mother’s footsteps. This—this is not what she would have wanted for either of you!”

A stab of guilt pierced me at her words; I averted my gaze from her anguished one. Emma spoke the truth. Both of my parents had wanted me to stay out of the war, but it was far too late for that now.

“Answer us,” Anara snarled, her fangs bared, unaffected by Emma's words. Seward still looked wary, but I saw his hand drop to his pocket where his revolver was tucked away. Even Abe got to his feet, his hand straying to the stake that was tucked in his back pocket.

Gabriel and I were the only ones who remained still, studying Emma’s face for any sign of deceit. But her face did not betray fear, alarm, or deception—she just looked heartbroken.

“This is why I hate war… it only leads to distrust,” she said bitterly.

“I am sorry,” I said, but I could once again feel Skala’s fangs on my skin, his cold eyes trained on me as I wept. I couldn’t risk another betrayal. “We need to know you’re telling us the truth.”

“Isabel loved to tell stories…even as a child,” Emma said, after a lengthy pause. “I visited London when you were still a baby…she was already telling you stories. I teased her and said you wouldn’t remember any of them, but she insisted that you would. She said they were more than just stories. They were lessons…lessons that would teach you how to protect yourself should the human world fall to vampires.”

My heart plummeted in my chest. I recalled my mother’s words in my dream—or was it a memory? Lessons, she had said. The stories are lessons. I turned to look at Gabriel. He looked stunned.

“If what you say is true, tell them one of these stories,” Anara demanded.

“Anara,” I said, getting to my feet. “I believe her. We believe her. There is no need to—“

“We believed Rosalind and now Szabina is dead,” Anara bit out harshly, before turning her attention back to Emma. “Tell them one, or I will not hesitate to—“

“The monster in the forest,” Emma snapped. Though she was addressing me and Gabriel, she glared at Anara as she spoke. “That was one of her favorites. It was a story about a monster lurking in the forest, and the little boy and girl who was able to hide from it…until it went away.”

I pressed my hands to my mouth. I remembered that story well; it was one of the last stories she told me before she died. Even though it frightened me, she had told it to me repeatedly, as if she wanted me to commit it to memory. Now I knew why.

“If you still do not believe me—if this is what our world has come to—then kill me where I stand!” Emma shouted.

“Stop this, Anara,” I said firmly, moving to stand in front of Emma. “She’s telling us the truth.”

* * *

It took several moments for the tension in the room to fade. Abe apologized on behalf of the group, while Anara fell silent, though I saw a look of regret flicker across her face. Emma still looked shaken by the impromptu interrogation; it was only mine and Gabriel’s repeated apologies and reassurances that seemed to calm her.

“I recently discovered that our family line has a distant vampire ancestor,” I said, once she had calmed. “Were you aware?”

Emma blanched, and I could have sworn that her skin went even more white. Her gaze briefly strayed to Anara and the others, but she shook her head.

“No,” she replied. “It certainly makes sense, given that there are at least two vampires in the family. You told me you are looking for Bathory,” she continued, abruptly changing the subject. “Through her follower, Francois?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Do you know of him?”

“He is the leader of the Parisian vampires,” Emma said, her mouth twisting with dislike. “All vampires in France know of him. He is behind the more vicious attacks on humans in the city—he loathes humans with a passion. One of his sycophants, Clement, has an infatuation with me…he seems to scent me anytime I’m in the city,” she added, with a shudder of revulsion. “He often invites me to Francois’ masquerade balls, but I always decline. Francois would hate me—I’m half human. Even so, I would never go to one.”

“Masquerade balls?” Abe asked.

“Francois holds elaborate masquerade balls every week at his chateau. He calls them Night Masquerades. The rumor is that he’s celebrating the coming end of the human world. The more humans he and his children kill that week, the more festive the celebration,” she said with disgust.

Hot anger seared me at her words; Abe and the others looked sickened as well. I thought of the empty streets of Paris, and my determination rose once more. We would put an end to Francois’ morbid celebrations.

“Can you arrange for our invitations to his next ball?” I asked.

“You—surely you are not serious,” Emma replied, slowly shaking her head. “Francois is strong, powerful, and absolutely mad. He—“

“We have heard all of these arguments before,” Abe interrupted. “They are irrelevant. We need to get to him—it is our best chance of tracking down Elizabeth Bathory.”

At the mention of Bathory’s name, Emma paled. She studied me and Gabriel for a long moment before she replied.

“If you are determined to go, then I'll not stop you. I’ll have to go into the city to see if I can arrange it.”

“Thank you,” I said, smiling at her. “Truly, Emma.”

“Let me show you your rooms,” she said, avoiding my gaze as she stood.

She led us out of the salon. The interior of the home bore the same signs of fading grandeur as the exterior—the walls were peeling, the floors splintered with age, and it was permeated by a dank and musky smell. It was almost completely dark; Emma had to light a candle once we reached the hall to take us up the unsteady winding staircase to the second floor. She pointed out several sparsely furnished guest rooms where we could temporarily settle.

Our group soon scattered. Seward and Anara left to make certain the surrounding grounds of the home were secure. Abe excused himself to settle our bags in our temporary guest room, though I was certain he wanted to give me and Gabriel some time alone with our newly discovered cousin.

When it was just the three of us, I again apologized for our earlier distrust, but she waved off my apology.

“These are dangerous times,” she said. “Even though I wish they were not. I understand the need to be on guard…especially after all that you and your friends have gone through.”

Emma offered to give us a more detailed tour of the home if we weren’t too tired. We eagerly agreed, wanting to see more of the home where our mother had spent much of her years, even if it was in such a decrepit state.

Emma first led us to an empty room at the far end of the corridor. The room was nondescript, with only a bed and lone dresser. She closed the door behind us. I started to ask her whose room this had once been, but stopped myself when I saw the urgency in her eyes.

“Do you trust everyone in your group?” she whispered.

“We trust them with our lives,” I replied, confused by her query. "Why?"

Her rigid shoulders relaxed, and she nodded.

“That is what I thought, but I wanted to make certain,” she said. “I need to tell you about the Bathory family…and our vampire ancestor. It is imperative that what I’m about to tell you remains within this house.”

15

Blood of Monsters

I dashed out of the room and down the hall, a sinister excitement flowing through my veins. I hurried into the guest bedroom that Abe and I were to share, pausing by the doorway as I caught my breath.

Abe was seated on the bed, scribbling down notes in his journal by the lone light of a single candle. He looked up, taking in my frantic state with concern.

“What—“ he began.

“I know how to kill her,” I said in a rush, entering the room further. “I know how to kill Elizabeth Bathory.”

The story Emma told me and Gabriel had at first filled me with horror, rendering me silent. And then a strange sort of elation had taken over, one that now had me firmly in its grip.

Now, Abe’s eyes widened as he got to his feet, blinking in astonishment.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

I sensed Emma’s presence at the doorway behind me. I turned to glance back at her. She was clearly surprised by my excited reaction, studying me with both curiosity and concern. Gabriel’s reaction had been far more subdued than mine; he’d gone downstairs to inform the others what we’d learned.

“My vampire ancestor was a member of the Bathory family,” I said, turning back to face Abe. I took his hands and sat down with him on the bed, trying to speak calmly. “Generations ago, a human from my family fell in love with a vampire from the Bathory family. They had a child; that child is my distant relation.”

“Godsamme,” Abe whispered. His eyes strayed to Emma, as if seeking to confirm my claim.

“It is true,” Emma confirmed. “Mina’s mother knew…but it was a closely guarded family secret.”

“Many vampires are unable to consume the blood of their own kind—it makes them ill. But there is no vampire—no matter how powerful—who can consume blood from its own family line. It would be lethal,” I continued. “If Elizabeth Bathory drinks from me, my blood will poison her.”

The knowledge of my ancestry invigorated me…I was filled with a renewed sense of purpose. All the mysterious threads I’d picked up over the past few weeks had finally come together. Not long ago, I would have been sickened to learn that traces of vampire blood flowed through my veins; blood from one of the oldest and most powerful vampire families in Europe. Now, there was only acceptance paired with determination. If the blood of monsters flowed through my veins, I could use it to destroy them.

“Does Bathory know this?” Abe asked Emma, getting to his feet. He had paled at my words, his entire body rigid with anxiety.

“I suspect not. Isabel and her family didn’t speak of it to anyone outside the family. Isabel kept both Gabriel and Mina’s true identities a secret altogether. Elizabeth would have hunted them both down and killed them had she known. Like many members of the Old Families, she loathes humans—she would abhor sharing the same family line.”

“Do not tell me you are thinking of using yourself as bait,” Abe breathed, turning back to face me. “Not after what—“

“Of course not,” I interrupted. Emma still didn’t know that I'd been tortured at the hands of Aurel Skala; I suspected she'd try to stop me from continuing the fight.

But I was determined to use this knowledge to kill Bathory. At the thought of killing her, black rage pulsed through me, and I didn’t push it away. My fire had returned; the fire that had been temporarily extinguished by Skala’s torture.

Abe looked assuaged by my response as Gabriel appeared next to Emma in the doorway.

“I’ve told the others. They’re gathered in the salon.”

We entered the salon, where Anara and Seward were looking at me with the same expressions they’d worn when learning that vampire blood flowed through my veins…shock paired with mystification.

“When you entered my mind in that forest in Transylvania…I knew there was something different about you,” Anara said. “It was difficult to penetrate your mind. Even your scent was different. But I never would have imagined that you’re a distant relation of Elizabeth Bathory.”

“Neither would I,” I said. “This is good for us to know. Now we have a definitive way of killing her. If she drinks from me, she dies. I won’t do anything rash,” I assured everyone, at their looks of alarm. “But…we do need her to drink from me. My blood will kill her.”

“We will find another way,” Abe said. “The only way she would drink from you is if you were to lure her to you—and that will not happen.”

“We still need to get to her,” Seward said. “If we can’t even track her down…”

“It is imperative that we attend this masquerade,” Anara added. “Right now, it is our only way of finding her.”

“I will be able to secure your invitations,” Emma said. “But I will not attend that monster’s party. I will not try to stop you—though I think this plan is foolhardy. Francois keeps guards around him at all times.”

“Nor would we expect you to,” I said gently. “We know how dangerous this will be.”

Emma left the salon as we discussed our plan. The next day, Anara would go into the city to meet with Parisian members of the Order, whom Nikolaus had referred her to; we needed them to join us. We would ensnare Francois by one of the members of our group informing him that the Order of the Dragon was present, and requesting a private audience. Once Francois was separated from the party, we would attack him and his guards, putting him in thrall to determine Bathory’s whereabouts before killing him. It was an ambitious and daring plan; one I prayed we could succeed in carrying out.

It was the middle of the night by the time we’d finished our discussion. Abe reached for my hand and led me back to our guest room.

“You do not seem bothered at all,” Abe mused later, searching my eyes as we lay in bed. The moonlight that filtered in through the window illuminated his handsome features. “Weeks ago, you did not believe vampires existed. The very thought of them disgusted you. Yet now that you know you carry a trace of vampire blood in your veins…”

“I was in denial then,” I said, recalling my willful ignorance with shame. “For so long I was in the dark about who I truly was. Now that I know…I accept it. I'll use my knowledge to kill those monsters.”

Abe pulled me close, pressing his lips against my forehead.

“I wanted to kill Skala myself when we found you in that cellar,” he whispered. “To see you like that…so broken. Anara was on him before I could even reach for my stake. I should have been the one to kill him.”

“He is dead now,” I said, forcing the image of Skala out of my mind.

“We should have gotten to you sooner,” Abe continued, regret darkening his expression. “I was in such agony the entire time you were missing.”

He pulled me close, burying his face in my hair. We lay in silence, the only sounds that filtered into the room were ones of nature: trees swaying with the night breeze, crickets chirping, the occasional distant howl of a wolf.

Abe’s breaths soon grew deep and steady, but I was far too restless to sleep. I feared that when I did, nightmares of Skala would once again plague me. I slipped out of Abe’s arms, placing my cloak over my nightdress. Abe remained asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily as he breathed. I watched him for a long moment, leaning down to tenderly kiss his stubbled jaw, before padding out of the room.

Carefully making my way down the dark hall, I wondered how this home had looked when my mother lived here. I tried to imagine her as a child, giggling as she raced down the same hall, reading stories with Emma, playing childhood games. When had she first learned of vampires, of the shadowy legacy of the Ghyslaine family? Had she been blissfully ignorant like me, or had she known all along what she would be doomed to face?

“I assume you cannot sleep?”

I turned, startled. I had made my way down to the salon, lost in my thoughts as I gazed out of one of its cracked windows. Anara entered the room behind me, taking off her cloak. Her face was flushed; she must have just fed.

“I fed on some animals in the forest,” Anara said as she approached. “When I do feed on humans, I do not kill. I did once, when I was an angry young vampire. Radu taught me that it is not necessary to kill when you feed.”

“It is not my business how you feed,” I said, though I was comforted by her admission.

“You may not fear us as you once did, but it may always be there…even now, knowing that you have vampire ancestry.”

“I no longer fear you nor my brother,” I protested. “I know that all vampires are not monsters.”

“I once thought all humans were monsters,” Anara said, after a brief pause. She looked away from me, training her gaze on the untamed weeds outside the window. “Before I became vampire…a group of humans raped and tortured me. They kept me prisoner for weeks. I was a thing to them, something to be toyed with. I begged them for death…anything to make the pain stop.”

I stared at her, horrified by her words. Anara had never shared any of her background with me. I could tell this was difficult for her to share, but she continued.

“Radu found me on the edge of death. He took pity on me…he gave me a choice. Did I want to die or become vampire? I chose to live as a vampire…not because I craved life, but because I desired revenge on those who had tortured me. Radu cared for me, loved me like a daughter of his very own. He healed me,” she said. “That is why I hated humans so. That is why I nearly killed you when I first met you in Budapest. The kukri knife was one of the weapons that was used on me.”

“Anara,” I murmured with sympathy. When I’d first met her, she displayed nothing but animosity and distrust towards us. Now I knew why. “Anara, I am so—“

“I do not tell you this for your sympathy,” she said sharply, still not looking at me, her eyes focused on a fixed point outside the window. “I did find the humans who tortured me. I killed them…slowly. I enjoyed every moment of it. I do not regret it. But…their deaths did not stop the nightmares of their torture. I could still see their faces and hear my screams…my pleas for them to stop.”

Now I knew why she was telling me this. I was still suffering from my encounter with Skala. Though I’d come back to life with the news of my connection to Bathory, Skala’s face still haunted my thoughts and nightmares. It was the very reason I dreaded sleep.

“How did you get past it?”

“I didn’t. Not truly,” she replied, and my heart sank at her words. “Sometimes…I still have nightmares. See one of their faces. When that happens, I force myself to stay in the present, to remind myself that what happened is in the past. It was a battle at first—sometimes it still is—but I no longer let those abhorrent memories dominate my thoughts. You will be able to as well. Do not let Skala hold your mind prisoner long after he is dead.”

16

The Promise

Anara’s words in the salon comforted me; that night I slept peacefully for the first time in days.

When Abe and I made our way down to the dining room the next morning, Emma and Anara had already left for the city; Emma to secure our invitations to Francois’ masquerade ball, Anara to meet with the Parisian members of the Order.

As I took my seat at the table, Seward studied me intently. I raised my eyebrows, giving him an inquisitive look.

“Do you feel any different?” he asked. “Not human? Bloody hell, I didn’t mean it that way—not necessarily. I just wondered if—“

“Jack,” Abe interrupted, frowning with irritation. “Mina is human. Will you cease your endless –“

“It’s all right,” I said, amused. “Yes, I feel human. I am human. It is strange knowing that there’s vampire blood in my line…but I feel mostly relieved. It’s as if a fog has been lifted.”

“If Abe were to perform an experiment on you, I wonder if—“ Seward began.

“I will not perform any experiments on the woman I love,” Abe interrupted. “Mina is not some sort of specimen.”

“It is fine. Truly,” I said, reaching out to touch Abe’s arm, a rush of warmth filling me at his words. “You’re a scientist…you understand curiosity. Seward is just curious.”

Abe relaxed, but kept his sharp gaze trained on Seward.

“What is the nature of your relationship with Anara?” he asked.

“Wh—what?” Seward stammered, his face going pale as he set down his tea.

“If you are going to ask questions about Mina, surely you can answer my question.”

“That’s different,” Seward protested. “I’ve never asked about your romantic relationship. I’ve already told Mina that I care for Anara. Anything further is none of you concern.”

“Abe, he’s right,” I said gently.

Seward gave me a grateful smile. I continued to study him as he returned his focus to his food, wondering how they had become involved. While Anara’s attitude had softened towards humans since she’d joined us, and our discussion last night confirmed her changed views, I still found it surprising she would enter into any sort of romantic relationship with a human.

Seward soon rose to his feet and excused himself, a flush spreading over his face at my unintentionally probing gaze. I had not been as subtle in my assessment as I'd assumed.

“I am going to take some air,” Gabriel said politely. He’d been so quiet during our exchange with Seward that I’d nearly forgotten he was there.

“Anara and Jack,” Abe mused aloud, once we were alone. “How odd.”

“Well. They do bicker as much as any couple. And Anara is beautiful," I added. I’d noticed a multitude of men giving her appreciative looks during our travels. "Has Seward courted anyone before?"

"Yes, but nothing serious. His focus was always on his work at Scotland Yard," Abe replied. "I am happy for him, I suppose. Hopefully she does not eat him alive."

"We shall see," I said with amusement, leaning in to kiss him before getting to my feet. “I’m going to talk to Gabriel…he’s been quieter than usual. I’m worried about him.”

I found Gabriel walking amongst the overgrown hedges that dominated the grounds behind the house.

“May I walk with you?” I asked, falling in to step beside him.

“Of course.”

“Are you all right?” I pressed, as we walked. “I know the news about Bathory is quite shocking, but it—“

“Bathory?” he asked, blinking. “No—that does not bother me. I am surprised, yes. I am not happy that we are related to those monsters. It is not that. It…it is about my father.”

“Your father?” I breathed. Ever since I’d learned of Gabriel’s existence, the mystery of his father’s identity had bothered me. What vampire had my mother fallen in love with? I could only imagine how much the mystery of Gabriel’s paternity affected him.

“I couldn’t rest last night, so I came out here to walk. Emma was awake as well; she joined me. I asked her if Mother ever told her about my father…and she had. His name was Aydin. His family hated humans and wanted no association with them. When their relationship was discovered, his family imprisoned him…Mother never saw him again. She discovered she was pregnant with me shortly thereafter. She wanted to keep me with her after giving birth, but the war was already brewing, and hybrid vampire children were not safe. She gave me to the human family that raised me, changed her name, and moved to London. That’s where she met your father years later.”

“Is your father still alive?” I asked, reeling from his words.

“Emma doesn’t think so. Mother only told her his first name, and that he had family in Constantinople. His family was so enraged by his relationship with Mother that Emma believes they had him killed.”

“My God,” I whispered.

“Emma doesn’t think my father would have let Mother’s death go unavenged if he was still alive. I…I had hoped to meet him…”

Gabriel’s voice broke. I stopped walking, reaching out to entwine my fingers with his.

“I am sorry,” I whispered. “But you are not alone in this world…you have me. We are family.”

Gabriel gave me a tremulous smile. A sudden rush of empathy filled my heart. The isolation and grief he'd experienced in his early years could have turned him dark. Instead, he had become the kind and compassionate man I’d come to love.

“Mother should have never made you promise to protect me,” I continued, linking my arm with his as we continued through the maze of shrubbery. “You deserve to live your own life.”

“I wanted to,” Gabriel protested. “I am glad that I have come to know you.”

“You need to make me a promise,” I said, looking up at him.

“What?”

“When this is all over…you will make a life for yourself. I have no intention of sending you away,” I added hastily, when his face fell. “But I don’t want you to spend the rest of my years shadowing me. You will have a life of your own, Gabriel. Promise me.”

“I promise,” he said, after a long pause.

When we returned to the front entrance of the house, a carriage was dropping off Anara and several people I didn’t recognize.

Gabriel and I trailed them inside to the salon. Abe and Seward were already there, and Anara introduced the strangers as the Parisian members of the Order of the Dragon. They were three men and one woman—Noelle, Hugo, Marceau, and Sebastien—all vampires except for Sebastien.

“There used to be more of us—many more,” Hugo said bitterly. He was a brawny vampire with sand-colored hair and striking blue eyes; he had the look of a Viking from a foregone age. “There was a purge of Order members after Vlad’s supposed death—many were killed or fled. For years now, we have lived outside the city in a small village. Francois keeps a sharp eye out for vampires in his city. You are either loyal to Bathory and those who want to end the human world or you are dead.”

“Why rejoin the fight now?” Seward asked.

“We were encouraged by Skala and Vlad’s deaths,” Noelle admitted. She was petite for a vampire, with dark hair and eyes the color of burnished gold. Though she was small, as Szabina had been, she exuded great strength. “You must understand…you were not the first to attempt to kill them. There may be only three leaders of the Old Families, but they have many loyal followers. We no longer want to hide…we want to help end this.”

I studied each of them carefully, wondering if we could trust them, or if this was yet another betrayal.

“I looked into their minds,” Anara said, as if reading my mind. “They are telling us the truth. I would not have brought them here if I suspected deception.”

Noelle told us they would join us in subduing Francois at his ball, but they would arrive separately to not arouse suspicion. Hugo would be the one to approach Francois; he was the physically strongest of our group, and unknown to Francois.

We were still discussing details of our plan when I heard another carriage pull up to the house. I excused myself, trailed protectively by Gabriel as I went to the front door. Emma entered, carrying a large garment bag, which Gabriel took off of her. I noticed that she looked slightly pale.

“I have procured your invitations to the ball,” she said, avoiding our eyes as she closed the door behind her. “Your invitations are several unique phrases; you will have to tell them to the guards when you arrive at his chateau, I will write them down for you. I have clothing and masks for the men from the dressmaker’s shop I frequent, they should suffice for the ball. Mina, your and Anara’s dresses will be sent here tomorrow… they will be used since it is such short notice.”

“Thank you,” I said, following her down the entrance hall. She seemed shaken. “Emma…are you all right?”

“I had to go to Clement for your invitations…the vampire who is infatuated with me. He wanted to seal my request for invitations with—with my body. I had to fight him off. I barely escaped.”

At the thought of this creature attempting to force himself on Emma, a surge of rage rippled through me. Gabriel looked just as furious.

“Tell us what he looks like,” I said.

“Mina, it’s not—“

“Please,” Gabriel interrupted. “Tell us. We don’t want to risk him coming after you.”

“You are already putting yourself into so much danger. There is no need for you to—“

“Don’t worry about us,” I said, but I was already visualizing how I would kill Clement.

Emma reluctantly described Clement; shorter than most vampires but muscular, with red hair that he wore long, and severe grey eyes.

Gabriel and I remained with Emma, leaving Abe and Seward with the members of the Order in the salon. I already knew every detail of our plan of attack for tomorrow night; I wanted to spend as much time as I could with Emma before the ball—we would have to leave France after determining Bathory’s location. Though Emma was still rattled from her encounter with Clement, our presence seemed to calm her.

We ate lunch together, and Emma plied us with questions about our lives; she was insatiably curious and wanted to know every detail. I told her about my previous life in London, my father, Clara, and even Jonathan.

“You were engaged before?” she asked. “It seems as if you and Abraham have always been together. I am sorry—I hope that does not offend you.”

“It doesn’t,” I replied, with a reassuring smile.

The Order members did not leave until the early evening, continuing to discuss both the plan for tomorrow and sharing their stories about the war in general. They bid us solemn farewells before they left; the next time we saw them would be at the ball.

The dresses that Anara and I were to wear arrived by messenger early the next morning. I gasped as I pulled mine out of the garment bag. It was made of fine black silk, with a daringly low-cut bodice stitched with fine silver threads, and sleeves made entirely of sheer black lace. It was paired with a fashionable silver moretta mask. Anara’s dress was made of gold satin with an even lower-cut bodice, paired with a black and golden mask that was shaped like a crescent moon. They were the perfect dresses for a masquerade ball with a night theme.

“These are used?” I asked Emma in disbelief. I had expected far simpler dresses.

“Yes. The dressmakers’ clients often attend fine balls in the country,” Emma replied.

As the time for our departure rapidly approached, the sinister excitement I’d felt after learning of my connection to Bathory was replaced by apprehension. This was the first time I’d be on the offensive against a vampire after my encounter with Skala. The thought of my capture and torture by yet another vampire made my body go cold with fear. I had barely survived the first time; I was unsure if I could survive another such ordeal.

When it was time to change into my gown, I realized that my hands were trembling. I took several deep breaths to calm myself. I just needed to focus on our ultimate goal—locating Bathory through Francois, and ending this war for good.

“You look beautiful, but that is the case no matter what you wear. I, however, look quite ridiculous,” Abe muttered from the doorway, pulling me back to the present.

I turned as he entered the room. He was dressed from head to toe in a fine black suit, an ornate gold mask covering most of his face. He looked darkly handsome, and my breath caught at the sight of him, though I smiled at the perturbed look on his face. Abe hated dressing formally; he rarely attended society events, finding them overbearing and pompous.

“I think you look handsome,” I said, beaming at him.

“I brought you something,” he said, approaching me. He reached into his pocket and took out my kukri knife.

I stared at it, frozen. I’d not seen my kukri since the night I’d approached Skala. The memory of Skala carving into my flesh with its blade flickered through my mind, and I instinctively took a step back. Abe looked guilty, lowering the kukri.

“I am sorry. I thought—“ he began.

“No. I will take it,” I said, holding out my hand as I recalled Anara’s words from last night. I would not allow Skala to continue influencing my mind.

Abe handed the kukri to me. I wrapped my hand firmly around the handle, expelling a breath before tucking it into my bodice. The coolness of the sheathed blade against my skin was comfortingly familiar, and I relaxed. This weapon had been my protection before Skala used it against me, and it would continue to be.

Abe met my eyes, concerned, but I gave him a nod of assurance. He took my hand, and we went downstairs to join the others. Anara looked more beautiful than usual in her gown, its golden color complimenting her skin. Gabriel and Seward also wore fashionable black suits and masks of gold and silver. With our fine clothing, we didn’t look as if we were about to head into battle, to kill one of the most powerful vampires in France.

The others streamed out the front door to our waiting carriage. I turned to Emma, who hovered by the doorway, and gave her a long embrace. For her safety, she would stay with a human family in the village with whom she was acquainted while we were away; we didn’t want to risk leaving her alone.

“Please…be careful,” she urged me.

I took my seat in the carriage next to Abe, turning to watch Emma’s silhouette fade as we rode away from the house and towards Francois’ masquerade of night.

17

The Night Masquerade

Just after nightfall, our carriage arrived at iron gates that guarded a sprawling chateau in the northern suburbs of Paris. A throng of carriages were already clustered at the gates, dropping off scores of guests.

I remained close to Abe’s side as we descended from our carriage, trailed closely behind by our friends. I took in the other guests who approached the gates. From their great height, otherworldly beauty, and frosty gazes, I could tell that most were vampire. They were all dressed as living impersonations of night or death. I saw silk gowns of black and midnight blue, studded with diamonds to resemble a starry night sky; gowns of silver and gold that hinted of the celestial; I even saw some vampires dressed as literal angels of death, their fashionable gowns of black brocade paired with finely crafted black angel wings. Their masks ranged from the decorous to the macabre—there were masks like Anara’s that resembled the crescent moon or stars, decorative silver or gold masks that glittered with gemstones, blood red plague masks, or black Venetian masks.

I stifled a gasp when I noticed that the human guests who accompanied vampires were completely nude. They wore nothing but masks, trailing obediently after their vampire companions. I wondered if they were here of their own accord or in a thrall; none of them seemed ashamed or bothered by their nudity, and gazed upon their vampire chaperones with unbridled adoration.

I tore my eyes away from them as we drew closer to the gates. Our small group began to pair off, human to vampire. Gabriel moved to my and Abe’s side, Anara to Seward’s. Once we reached one of the foreboding vampire guards who stood by the gate’s entrance, Gabriel smiled, and spoke the phrase that served as our invitation.

“Monde de la nuit.”

Abe and I stood completely still as Gabriel spoke, and the vampire’s gaze settled on us. I was afraid that all humans were required to be nude to gain entry, which would most certainly give away the kukri tucked in my bodice, but the vampire ushered us inside the gate.

I glanced behind us to make certain that Anara and Seward had also gained access. They were waved inside after Anara spoke the required words.

I nervously linked my arm with Abe’s as we made our way down the long winding cobblestone path towards the chateau up ahead. The exterior brick facade of the chateau was accentuated by yellow gold stone arches that surrounded each of the windows. Two imposing statues of the Greek gods of night and death—Nyx and Thanatos— stood on opposite sides of the two open front doors.

The crowd around us hummed with excitement as we drew near, but a sense of foreboding had seized control of my senses. We were approaching a lion’s den.

We entered a cavernous entry hall that led directly to a grand ballroom. I took in our surroundings with astonishment as we entered. This ball was nothing like the stiff society balls I used to attend in London.

The ballroom was only dimly illuminated, despite the row of chandeliers that cast miniature dots of reflected light onto the black ceiling, giving them the appearance of stars in a night sky. Black velvet tapestries, decorated with golden moons and stars, were draped across the walls. White moonflowers and evening primroses decorated most surfaces—the plush chairs and couches, even the marble floors.

Vampire and human guests lounged on the couches that lined the walls, openly making love or feasting on blood, their eyes closed in erotic bliss. The guests who weren’t engaged in lovemaking or blood sharing danced to the strains of a macabre-sounding waltz on the dance floor, played by a small orchestra at the head of the ballroom.

The atmosphere was both erotic and ostentatious, a lurid celebration of both night and death. It was as if I’d stepped into an alternate world in which vampires had indeed taken over, humans were subjugated, and we now lived in an eternal realm of night.

Anara was the first to speak, moving to stand before us.

“I have seen much worse in my lifetime,” she whispered. “You all need to stop gaping. We need to appear celebratory if we are to assimilate.”

She turned, her gaze straying to the left side of the ballroom. I followed her gaze. I’d been so distracted by the lasciviousness of the guests that I’d not noticed the dais that was set up there.

Several vampires were gathered on the dais, surrounding a male vampire who sat on a chair so ornate it might as well have been a throne. He held a nude human woman in his lap, drinking hungrily from her throat. His dark hair fell over his prominent brow as he drank. He matched the description Emma had given us—tall and lithe, vivid green eyes, and black hair, with the subtle lethalness of a snake. The vampire was Francois.

There were two vampires hovering around Francois. One was distinctively tall, even for a vampire, with a jagged scar running down the left side of his face, silver-blonde hair, and deep blue eyes. The second vampire was focused on the woman Francois drank from, his gaze roaming lustily over her nude body. He matched Emma’s description of Clement; a jolt of anger hit me at the sight of the creature who’d nearly raped my cousin.

“No,” Anara suddenly whispered.

I frowned, wondering to whom she was reacting—but my confusion didn’t last for long. Another vampire now approached the dais; a vampire I recognized.

It was Matyas. Matyas, the vampire we’d approached in Budapest for help with our attack on Vlad Draculesti. He had betrayed us, warning Vlad that we were coming for him. He’d also been one of the vampires who tortured and murdered my mother. The anger I’d just felt towards Clement was replaced by a white-hot rage. I wanted nothing more than to charge across the ballroom and sink my kukri into his heart.

“This changes nothing,” Anara whispered, sensing my thoughts. She looked at Gabriel, who also radiated with quiet fury. “We stay on task. It is now even more essential that we maintain our anonymity for as long as possible. I want nothing more than to kill him, but we must keep to the plan. Watch the dais, wait for Hugo to approach Francois, and then we make our move.”

Much of Gabriel and Anara’s faces were hidden behind their masks, but I could see the furor in their eyes at the sight of Matyas. Anara’s beloved father Radu had been killed during the confrontation with Vlad, and I knew that she blamed Matyas for his death.

At her words, I nodded. For now, I would have to put aside my desire for revenge against Matyas.

Anara took Seward’s arm and moved into the rambunctious crowd, blending in with the other guests. Gabriel followed suit.

Abe took my hand, leading me towards the throng of swirling dancers. I still felt shaken by the sight of Matyas, and struggled to quell my burning fury.

“We are enjoying ourselves. We are happy to be here,” Abe reminded me, a forced smile on his face as he began to twirl me around to the music.

I made myself smile as well, though it was deeply unsettling to dance amongst the very creatures we were trying to destroy; vampires who wanted to take over the human world. My heart pounded unsteadily as I took in the vampires who danced around us. They must have smelled our human scents; I feared they would try to drink from us or put us into a thrall. Fortunately, they seemed to only be concerned with each other or their human companions.

I looked around, wondering where the other members of the Order of the Dragon were. I wouldn’t be able to recognize them amongst the sea of masks that populated the ballroom. I desperately hoped they were here and had not backed out…our plan wouldn’t succeed without them.

I turned my focus back to Abe. He was still smiling, but I could see the lines of strain around his mouth. The last time we’d danced together at a ball was the fateful night of the London Law Society ball…the night that Jonathan was abducted by Vlad and Ilona. The night my life had forever changed.

“One day,” Abe murmured, his blue eyes now twinkling with genuine amusement. “We should attend a ball where there are no vampires.”

“One day,” I agreed, my smile matching his.

“Toutes les personnes!” an authoritative male voice rang out. The music immediately ceased. Abe and I turned towards the dais.

It was Francois who had spoken. He stood, gesturing towards a cluster of humans who were gathered in front of the dais. Matyas now hovered next to Francois’ chair, and I had to force my eyes away from him.

The humans gazed up at Francois with rapture. I again wondered if they had all been put into a thrall…or if they were here willingly. I couldn’t decide which was worse.

“These humans have agreed to take the Blood,” Francois continued, in rapid French. “Tonight they will be turned and join the dead who live.”

All of the guests applauded at his words. I clapped along with the others, though I felt ill, as Francois continued, “My newborn children are spread throughout Paris. Though we mourn our brethren who have fallen, we will not falter. Tonight, make more children in our image. We will continue to unleash the Blood Plague upon the humans. We will make the world as it should be. Tomorrow night…Paris will fall.”

Fear flooded my senses as the rapturous applause soared. I recalled the empty streets of Paris when we’d arrived. Abe looked at me, his expression fraught with the same fear. We had to succeed tonight—and not just to obtain Bathory’s location. We needed to prevent Francois’ vampires from attacking Paris.

“I have a final surprise for you,” Francois continued, his green eyes shining with excitement. “Our great leader is here tonight. Our queen.”

Gasps of delight punctuated the crowd. I frowned. Who was he referring to?

The crowd parted as a female vampire approached the dais from a side corridor. She was flanked by a dozen vampires. As she ascended the stairs, the vampires on the dais and the guests all around the ballroom kneeled in reverent bows. Hiding our confusion, Abe and I followed suit.

The female vampire kissed Francois on both cheeks before facing the guests. She wore a black brocade domino cloak over a silk gown of deep scarlet. A lavish mask made of black diamonds partially covered her face, the top of the mask extending above her head like a crown. From beneath her mask, I could see that the ivory features of her face were finely carved, like a marble statue. She had glittering midnight black eyes, and wavy auburn hair that flowed to her waist.

Her dark gaze swept over all the guests in the room. I heard a sudden whisper in my mind, akin to the whisper Vlad had uttered to me on Westminster Bridge in London weeks ago.

You are my children…my subjects. You all belong to me.

I was suddenly unable to move. She was placing everyone in the ballroom into a thrall. I didn’t know that vampires could put such a large crowd in thrall at once. She must be a powerful vampire, I mused.

At the thought, a chill snaked through my chest. Sometimes she appears at the masquerade balls Francois has at his home, Clovis had told us in Berlin.

The vampire was Elizabeth Bathory.

18

Prey

The guests around us listened in rapt awe as she began to speak. I wanted to scream, to hurl my kukri into her heart, but the power of her thrall held me frozen.

"You have done well, my children,” she said. Her voice was throaty and commanding, yet seductive as a siren's song. "We have enemies who deny our dominion, who cut down our allies and believe that ensures their victory. We are more powerful than they are; we shall continue forward. Listen for whispers of betrayal; show no mercy on any traitors you come across."

As she spoke, two hulking male vampires approached the dais from one of the side corridors, dragging a nude woman along with them. She was gaunt, with bruises and bite marks all over her pale body. They dragged the woman up to the dais and towards Bathory. The woman wept and pleaded with them. My heart broke for her…she knew that she was about to die.

"This is a former member of the Order of the Dragon," Bathory continued, contempt lacing her words. "The Order, who betrayed their own kind by uniting with humans. That is when our downfall began. When the predator allowed the prey to have dominion. We are like the great wolves of the animal kingdom. We do not bow down to prey."

In a flash of movement, Bathory reached for the woman, easily lifting her with one arm and holding her aloft as she struggled and begged for mercy. Bathory trained her gaze on a small group of vampires who now stood near the dais. They were released from her thrall, and scurried to the base of the dais like a pack of hungry wolves. Alarmed, I realized what she was about to do.

"We treat humans who defy us as the lowly beasts they are. They need to be reminded of what they are. Meat. Food. Nothing."

She hurled the screaming woman into the group of hungry vampires, and they descended upon her, tearing into her flesh with their fangs. The woman's screams punctuated the silent ballroom; they were screams of agony, of terror. Though I could not move, tears pricked at my eyes. How many times had I heard such screams? I thought of the doomed sailors on the Demeter and the passengers on our derailed train from weeks ago. How much more suffering would these monsters inflict on humans?

It seemed as if an eternity passed before the woman's screams died. Bathory watched serenely, smiling as the vampires stood, their mouths and fine clothes now stained with the woman's blood.

Only pieces of the woman remained. Her flesh had been torn from her bones, and only a portion of her face was intact. Her lifeless eyes seemed to stare right at me.

"She deserved far worse," Bathory said. "Be creative when it comes to punishing traitors. Now, I must take my leave," she continued, turning to Francois, leaning in to press a loving kiss to his lips. "Continue your celebrations. Make love, make children, make death. I love you all."

With one last smile at the guests, she vanished.

We were released from our paralysis. I was shaking, revulsion searing my insides. I no longer felt any trace of excitement over my familial connection to Bathory. How could I share blood with that monster? How could someone from my line have fallen in love with someone from hers?

Now that I saw the magnitude of her power, her cruelty, I knew that she would not be as simple to ensnare as Vlad had been. The thought of her drinking my blood, even if it did manage to kill her, was terrifying.

Abe gripped my arm as the orchestra began to play another waltz. The vampire and human guests resumed dancing and making merry, as if nothing had happened, as if a human being had not just been violently torn to shreds. How could the humans not care? How could they react with such laissez faire? They are all in a thrall, I told myself. It was the only explanation I could fathom.

I set my disgust aside. Bathory was here. Now was our chance to kill her. I looked up at Abe, whose countenance was unnerved but determined. I gave him a subtle nod, and together we moved towards the entrance. I fixed a smile on my face to avoid arousing suspicion, but no one paid us any mind as we exited the ballroom and made our way to the front entrance.

Human and vampire guests continued to stream inside, laughing and gay as we hurried past them.

Outside, there were no departing carriages at the iron gates, only arriving carriages, which dropped off even more guests.

I stiffened when I sensed the presence of a vampire directly behind us.

Abe and I whirled. The vampire who hovered behind us wore a black domino hooded cloak over his suit of midnight blue. He briefly lifted his black moretta mask to reveal his face. It was Hugo, one of the members of the Order. My shoulders sank with relief.

"There is no sign of Bathory,” he whispered, pressing his mask back down over his face. "I checked the side corridor from which she came. The others are checking the grounds. I fear she is gone. She has made appearances like this before…and then vanished into the night."

I closed my eyes, trembling with frustration. The last vampire we needed to kill had only been yards away from us, and now she was gone.

“Come back inside."

Anara had stepped out as well. She looked rattled, though she wore a strained smile.

"She is not here…we have all done a quick search. We found the members of the Order,” she whispered, nodding at Hugo. “Noelle told me that Bathory’s bravado is a front. She knows the Order is closing in on her; she keeps her public appearances brief. Our plan will still proceed. Hugo, are you ready?"

Hugo nodded, though a brief look of grief flashed across his eyes. I wondered with sympathy if he knew the human woman who had just been killed. But Anara was right—we had a task to do, and now I was even more determined to succeed.

* * *

Moments later, I danced the waltz with Abe, my shock over Bathory's appearance and the murder of the human woman temporarily cast aside as I acted the part of joyous human guest, eagerly anticipating the end of the human world. The smile I wore was so tight that my face had begun to smart.

I wondered how our allies were doing, pretending to be gay in the face of such looming odds. We were surrounded by murderous vampires and compliant humans. After Bathory's appearance, the mission seemed more arduous.

I looked past Abe’s rigid shoulders as he swirled me around, finding Hugo in the crowd. He was weaving his way through the merry guests, approaching the dais. Once he reached its base, one of Francois’ guards stopped him. But Francois took in Hugo’s handsome form with overt interest. He stood, waving for Hugo to come forward.

I watched anxiously as they spoke. Behind them, Matyas surveyed their exchange with narrowed eyes. I stumbled over Abe’s feet in alarm when Francois reached out to remove Hugo’s mask.

“What?” Abe hissed. He was trying not to stare in the same direction I was to avoid suspicion, his face pale with anxiety.

“Keep dancing,” I whispered, my heart slamming haphazardly in my chest as Francois studied Hugo for several moments before turning to his guards and issuing an order I couldn't hear. Matyas went rigid at Francois’ words, his icy eyes immediately surveying the crowd. Francois took Hugo’s arm, leading him down the dais and towards another side corridor on the far side of the ballroom; Clement and another guard followed.

I looked away as Matyas and the guards stepped down from the dais. They were ordering each guest they approached to remove their mask. Panic gripped my chest; if we were discovered, our plan would fail before it had even begun. I thought of the murdered human woman. What would our fate be if we were caught?

Abe followed my gaze, and he stopped dancing, gripping my hand. He looked at me, and I nodded. Now was the time to embark upon our plan.

Together, we made our way through the dancing guests towards the same corridor to follow Francois and Hugo. I spotted Anara and the others on the opposite side of the ballroom, making their way towards the same corridor.

But Abe and I were intercepted before we could even leave the dance floor. A male vampire wearing a red plague mask stood in front of us, his black eyes sweeping lustfully from my masked face to my breasts.

“You smell strange and divine, human,” he purred, ignoring Abe as he moved intimately close to me. “Why are you wearing clothing? I would like to taste you…all of you.”

Abe stilled at my side, and revulsion skittered through me. We couldn’t attack a vampire in a ballroom full of vampires, but if I refused him he would grow suspicious…and perhaps cause a scene. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Matyas and the guard continue to make their way through the crowd, stopping each guest as they went. Soon, they would be upon us. I had to act quickly.

“Bien sur,” I replied, giving him what I hoped was a coquettish smile, as I reached out to take his cold hand in mine. “I am quite shy…and my husband would also love for you to drink from him. I know it is not my place to make demands, but is there somewhere more private we could go?”

I let my gaze stray seductively towards the corridor that Francois had led Hugo into. I dropped Abe’s hand and stepped closer to the vampire. I could sense Abe’s anger as the vampire leered at my breasts, before he reluctantly dragged his eyes away to focus on Abe.

“It has been quite some time since I’ve tasted a man. You will certainly do,” he said, surveying Abe’s body. “Come.”

The vampire took both me and Abe by the arms, leading us off the dance floor.

I felt nervous and relieved. I hoped the vampire could not sense my fear, the rapid beating of my heart, nor the kukri that was tucked beneath my bodice. With the vampire escorting us, we blended in effortlessly with the other guests. We'd just have to figure out how to get rid of him once we were alone.

I looked around for Gabriel and the others. They were now on the edge of the dance floor, drawing closer to the corridor. Gabriel had his arm around Anara, while she had her arm linked with Seward’s. They appeared gay, with broad smiles on their faces. Had I not known them, I would have thought they were just like the other guests here. It was only the telltale tightness of Gabriel’s shoulders and the rigid way Seward carried himself that gave away any hint of turmoil. I didn't see Noelle and the other members of the Order; I prayed that they were nearby.

They paused by the entrance to the corridor, noticing us as we approached. Gabriel tensed at the sight of us with the vampire, but neither he nor the others said a word as we passed them and entered the corridor. I gave them a subtle nod to let them know we were all right, and to proceed with the plan.

We made our way down the corridor, passing multiple chambers filled with vampires and humans who were drinking blood and making love. Yet I didn’t see Francois or Hugo in any of the rooms. Where were they?

I made myself focus as the vampire led us into a chamber that looked like a miniature salon; it was mercifully empty.

He closed the door behind us.

“Now,” he purred. “Undress. I shall take you…then I shall feast from you. It has been decades since I’ve lain with a human woman. Your husband will watch…and then I shall take him.”

Abe’s eyes were hot with fury. I was grateful that he wore a mask, his expression would give us away. I smiled at the vampire, taking a few steps back. I lifted my hair with one hand, exposing my neck.

“Please…will you sample me first?” I asked, trying to sound eager and hopeful. “No one has drunk from me tonight.”

The vampire’s eyes turned completely black with bloodlust. He was on me at once, his arms holding me close as he sank his fangs into my skin. I cried out in spite of myself, but forced myself to then moan in pleasure, pushing away the memory of Skala’s fangs in my skin.

This did not last for long; the vampire suddenly stiffened, and he crumpled to the floor. Abe had staked him from behind. Now, he leaned down to stake the dying vampire in his throat.

I stumbled back, my hand straying to my bleeding throat. Abe stood up, his breathing still ragged as he looked down at the dead vampire.

“We must get to the others and Francois,” I said urgently.

Abe nodded, shoving the bloody stake into his suit pocket. We hurried out of the room, nearly colliding with Gabriel as soon as we opened the door. He stood just outside the room, pretending to enjoy a glass of wine.

“What—“ he began, spotting the dead vampire behind us. Abe hastily closed the door.

“He intercepted us—we had no choice,” I whispered. “We must make haste…where are the others? Do you know where Francois took Hugo?”

“Anara scented them in that chamber,” Gabriel said, gesturing towards a lone chamber at the far end of the corridor. “Come.”

We hurried after him. But we all froze when we heard a ferocious roar and the sound of shattering glass.

19

My Queen

We raced into the chamber to find utter chaos.

Anara was in the midst of fighting Clement, their movements so rapid I could barely track them. Just outside the shattered window, Hugo fought Francois on his own, with similar speedy moves. Francois’ vampire guards lay dead in the center of the floor; there was a stake embedded in the chest of one, while the other’s throat had been torn out.

In the midst of the fighting, Seward sat huddled on the floor next to the door, deathly pale as he clutched his bleeding throat. Abe and I rushed to his side while Gabriel moved past us to join the fight.

“I’m—I’m all right,” Seward rasped, as Abe inspected his wound.

Two masked vampires suddenly dashed into the room, and I shot to my feet, my kukri out, ready to strike. They removed their masks, and relief coursed through me.

It was Noelle and Marceau, the other members of the Order. Noelle turned towards us as Marceau darted forward, fangs bared, to join the fight.

“We need to keep this door guarded and closed,” Noelle ordered. “The corridor is noisy and no one has sensed anything amiss. If other vampires come to Francois’ aid—we will not be able to fight all of them.”

I nodded in agreement, glancing behind me, where our vampire companions continued to spar with superhuman speed. If Abe and I attempted to join the fray, we'd only impede the others and get in the way.

Abe and Noelle hoisted Seward up and led him out of the room. Outside the door stood Sebastien, the human member of the Order. He still wore his mask and held a glass of wine, a strained smile on his face as he attempted to appear relaxed and at ease.

I turned to glance down the long corridor that led to the ballroom. Fortunately, we were at the far end, and the corridor was indeed filled with noise—music that drifted in from the ballroom, conversation and laughter from the guests, moans of pleasure from the chambers that lined the corridor. It was hard to believe that a miniature battle was taking place in the chamber behind us.

Seward, who was now propped up by Abe and Sebastien, attempted to look merry, but his pain was palpable. Abe and Sebastien tensely studied the few guests who roamed the corridor, wandering in and out of the various chambers. Noelle looked as if she were ready to slaughter any creature that approached us.

I stilled when a blonde female vampire emerged from one of the chambers, making her way towards us. She wore a gown of midnight blue, the golden mask she wore resembled the shape of two stars.

“You all look quite dire,” she said with amusement, her voice carrying above the din of the corridor. “Surely you don’t need all these humans to yourself,” she added to Noelle, as she drew near, her gaze lingering on the dried blood on Seward’s throat.

She stopped just opposite us, her gaze straying towards the closed chamber door. Her eyes narrowed with sudden distrust.

“It smells of vampire blood in there…what is happening?” she demanded. “Where is Francois? This is his private—“

Noelle moved quickly. She reached out with one hand, snapping the vampire’s neck. The sound of cracking bone reverberated in my ears as she slumped forward in Noelle’s arms, dead.

“Bloody hell,” Seward whispered. “Was that necessary?”

“Yes,” Noelle curtly replied, as the chamber door swung open. Gabriel stood there, out of breath, blood splattered across his clothes and face. He didn't react to the sight of the dead female vampire in Noelle’s arms, merely stepping aside to let us enter.

The chamber was empty, with the exception of the dead vampires on the floor, which now included Clement, I noted with dark pleasure. Francois and the others were nowhere to be seen.

“Francois escaped into the forest—he is gravely injured,” Gabriel said, already moving towards the window. “The others have gone after him. You and the others should stay behind until we subdue him.”

“Gabriel—“ I began to protest, but he had already leapt out of the window.

“They may kill Francois—we need him alive. We need to get into his mind to find out where Bathory is located,” I said desperately. “If they kill him, this will all be for naught.”

“Then come,” Noelle said, dropping the dead female vampire onto the floor as she made her way to the window.

“I’ll be all right—go,” Seward insisted, when we hesitated to leave him behind. He braced himself against the wall. “I—I can stay behind and make sure no one comes inside.”

“He’s right…someone needs to guard the door. I will stay with him,” Sebastien added.

Abe and I tore off our masks and dashed towards the window, climbing out. I hiked up my skirts as we raced towards the forest that lined the edge of the chateau’s empty back grounds.

We reached the edge of the forest. From its depths, we heard the sounds of animalistic growls and snarls. Weapons in hand, we darted into the forest, freezing when we reached a small clearing.

It looked like the aftermath of a battle. Anara, Marceau, and Hugo were strewn on the ground like discarded puppets. Hugo was still and lifeless, his throat completely torn out. Anara and Marceau were alive but injured; both of Anara's legs were twisted at odd angles, and her face was tight with pain. Marceau bled copiously from a gaping wound that was slashed across his torso; it looked as if Francois had attempted to tear out his heart.

"Go. It is too late for Hugo. Marceau and I will heal," Anara rasped. "Gabriel and Noelle are fighting Francois on their own…he is injured. Keep your distance and use your weapons."

We obliged her, moving cautiously as we ventured further into the forest.

“Anara is right. We keep our distance,” Abe whispered. “If several vampires cannot take him down…then we certainly cannot. We will take aim at him from afar.”

I nodded in agreement. I wanted to keep Francois alive to find Bathory, but I would do whatever it took to save Gabriel’s life.

We halted when we saw Francois, Noelle, and Gabriel in another clearing a dozen yards ahead. Though they moved swiftly, I could see that Francois was indeed injured and bleeding; his face and throat bore gaping wounds, his suit was soaked with blood.

From our vantage points, we'd have a clear shot at injuring Francois further if Gabriel or Noelle could subdue him for just a moment. We angled our weapons, waiting for our moment to strike.

Francois suddenly jerked his head in our direction, his eyes finding us in the darkness. Gabriel and Noelle used his temporary distraction to their advantage, charging towards him with their fangs bared, but Francois grabbed them both by the throat. He tossed Noelle across the clearing with such force that I could hear her bones break upon her impact on the ground. He then reared towards Gabriel’s throat with his fangs bared, and tore out a chunk of his flesh. Dark red blood seeped from Gabriel’s throat as his eyes widened in agony, and he slumped to the ground.

“NO! GABRIEL!” I screamed, ignoring Abe’s shout of warning as I charged forward, tears of grief and rage blurring my vision. I aimed my kukri at Francois as he lunged towards me. In that moment, I no longer cared about Bathory, only revenge. I was desperate to sink my blade into his flesh.

But Abe and I were instantly paralyzed as Francois trained his eyes on us. I flew through the air, my body slamming against a nearby tree. Francois was on me in an instant, his hand gripping my throat in a vise-like grip, and he began to squeeze the air from my lungs.

“You are the human woman who killed my brethren,” he seethed.

His grip tightened. It would be mere seconds before I ran out of air. I shuttered my panic away, focusing on the depths of his green eyes as I cleared my mind.

I was riding through the countryside. My horse suddenly grew restless and violent, rearing back and tossing me from its saddle. I landed on my back in a heap, looking up to find a beautiful woman with auburn hair and eyes as black as night gazing down at me. She told me her name was Elizabeth Bathory, and she wanted me for her own.

I was making love with Elizabeth, our bodies melding together. Her teeth sank into the flesh of my throat. I cried out in pain and pleasure, until there was nothing but swirling blackness.

A weeping servant girl was crouched before me in a large bedchamber. Elizabeth walked in a circle around her, giving me a seductive smile. She wrapped her hand around the girl’s braid, yanking her head back to reveal the ivory skin of her throat.

“Drink, my Francois,” she whispered, and I obediently leapt onto the servant girl, hunger driving me as my fangs sank into her soft skin. The girl began to scream; I took pleasure in the screams as I drank from her.

“They taste better when they are frightened,” Elizabeth said, her face alight with pleasure as she watched me. She kneeled down and latched her fangs into the other side of the girl’s throat.

I was in the grand hall of a hunting manor. Human heads were mounted on the walls like prized game. Outside the windows, a thick patch of forest surrounded the manor.

I knelt in front of Elizabeth, trying to hold back angry tears.

“Vlad and Ilona…they were murdered by humans…by a human woman,” I spat, fury scorching my insides. “They were our brethren.”

“It is no matter,” Elizabeth replied, tilting my head back to gaze into my eyes. “We will make more children. The world will still be ours.”

“The Order of the Dragon…they are looking for the leaders of the Old Families,” I said, a sudden fear filling me at the thought. “They will try to kill you, my queen. You are not safe!”

“They will not succeed. Transylvania has been my home for generations. It is safe here. It is where I shall remain until it is time,” Elizabeth said, gesturing around the grand hall. “The world will be ours, my love.”

“I still fear for you, my queen,” I whispered. “I fear for you.”

I was jerked back into the present as Francois released me. I gasped, taking in much needed air as he stumbled back, his body quaking with horror.

“How did you—“ he gasped.

I did not waste the moment. My kukri was lodged into his heart before he could complete his sentence. He sunk down to his knees, blood spilling from the sides of his mouth. Abe raced to my side, but I gave him a sharp look. Francois was mine to kill.

I kneeled down in front of Francois as he struggled to breathe, twisting the blade in his heart. Francois howled in agony, reaching out towards me, but he was too weak to do any harm.

I leaned forward, and whispered, “You were right to fear for your queen. I will kill her. She will die in agony. This I promise you.”

I yanked my knife out of his heart, and Francois’ eyes widened at my words, before the life seeped out of their green depths.

20

Hunter

I held Gabriel's dying body in my lap as our carriage raced away from the forest that surrounded the chateau. My brother was trembling, his once vibrant skin pale, his silver eyes growing dim as he tried to focus on my face.

“Mina,” he whispered. “Sister. I am glad to have known you…I only wish I could have known you longer. My life…it has been a lonely one.”

“Gabriel,” I said, trying to keep my voice firm, in spite of the tears that streaked down my face and the grief that seized my heart. “Listen to me. You will not die. Do you understand me? You will not die!”

I looked up at Abe, Anara, and Seward, who sat across from us in the large carriage. Abe’s worried eyes were pinned on us, while blood tears streamed down Anara’s face. Still pale from his own injury, Seward’s face was stricken with grief.

Sebastien and Seward had bribed a carriage driver, who waited for us at the edge of the forest. To avoid detection, the carriage now dashed down a back country road instead of the main street to take us back to the countryside. Noelle and the other members of the Order had urged us to leave, insisting they'd be able to escape the chateau on their own.

“We are good at hiding,” Noelle assured us. "And…we want to bury Hugo in the forest before we leave," she added, her words laced with sorrow, before she sent us on our way.

“Gabriel needs blood to heal,” I said now, as I looked at the others, my words catching on a desperate sob. “I can’t give him my blood—I’m human and we’re of the same family line. Abe—it needs to be you or Seward—please—he doesn’t have much time—“

“No,” Gabriel protested. “No—I do not drink blood from humans— “

“You will!” I shouted, glaring down at his pale face. “Do you think this is what our mother wanted for you? Dying over some misplaced sense of honor? You will not die. Our family—we have already lost too much. You will live, Gabriel. Do you understand? You will live!”

Terror snaked through me as his eyes drifted shut, and I feared he would still refuse. But my fears were assuaged when he gave me a weak nod.

Abe moved over to our side of the carriage, kneeling down in front of Gabriel. He pulled back his sleeve, pressing his wrist to Gabriel’s mouth. Gabriel hesitated for just a moment before sinking his fangs into Abe’s flesh.

We watched with quiet anxiety as Gabriel ingested the flow of Abe’s blood. There was a time when revulsion would have flowed through me at such a sight, but now I only felt hope as I watched Gabriel drink.

The color gradually returned to Gabriel’s face; the ravaged skin of his throat began to heal. For the first time, I was relieved that he was half vampire. A human would not have survived such an injury.

Even after his color returned, and the skin of his throat had mostly healed, Gabriel continued to drink, his silver eyes turning black. Abe tried to remove his wrist, beginning to look faint.

“Gabriel,” I whispered. “Gabriel, that’s enough.”

But Gabriel tightened his grip, continuing to drink, and Abe grew increasingly pale.

“Gabriel, enough!” I shouted. Abe looked as if he were about to lose consciousness. I tried to wrench Abe’s wrist away, but Gabriel was far too strong.

Anara shot forward, forcefully removing Abe’s wrist from Gabriel’s mouth. Abe stumbled back to the opposite side of the carriage, woozy and pale. Gabriel let out an animalistic snarl as he sat up from my lap, but Anara gripped him by his shoulders, gazing into his eyes.

“You are tired now,” she whispered. “Sleep."

Gabriel’s eyes fluttered, their blackness slowly replaced by silver, and they drifted shut. Anara settled his sleeping form back against the plush seat.

“There is no need for concern. That was his first taste of human blood. It happens to most vampires when we get our first taste. He will learn to control his urges.”

I nodded, turning to look at Abe. He leaned back in his seat, clutching his wrist, his breathing ragged. He still looked far too pale.

“I will be fine,” he whispered. “But I will need a transfusion when we return to your cousin’s home.”

“Thank you, Abe,” I whispered, reaching out to touch the side of Gabriel’s face. I could not bear the loss of yet another family member. Besides Emma, Gabriel was the only family I had left. I didn't realize how much I loved him until he came so perilously close to death. A fresh wave of gratitude filled me. “Thank you.”

* * *

“Transylvania,” Seward said with a groan, rubbing his now-bandaged throat. “I thought I’d never have to see that bloody place again.”

Hours later, we were gathered in the salon of Emma’s home. Under Abe’s direction, I’d given both him and Seward a small transfusion of my blood as soon as we arrived. Their color had returned, and Abe now sat resting on the couch with a mug of tea. Anara, whose broken legs had healed with astonishing vampiric speed, had settled the sleeping Gabriel in one of the guest rooms, and searched the grounds to make certain we hadn't been followed. We now had the home to ourselves; Emma was not to return until tomorrow.

I'd just told them what I saw in Francois’ mind—the hunting lodge in Transylvania. When I mentioned the wall of human heads I’d seen in his memory, Abe and Seward recoiled; even Anara had paled.

"We don't know exactly where in Transylvania," I said, frustrated. "There are dozens of hunting manors in the region. How are we—"

"Wait," Abe interrupted, sitting up so quickly that his tea sloshed over the side of his mug. "I recall something from one of Robert's journals. He spoke with a group of villagers in the Britz region about a vampire who lured humans to his hunting lodge…where he would hunt them for sport. I assumed they were referring to Vlad Draculesti. Mina…you mentioned a wall of human heads in Francois’ memory. What if they were indeed referring to Bathory?"

We looked at each other, chilled. Seward swiftly retreated from the room, returning moments later with our well-worn map of the Transylvania region. He spread it out on the center table, and we gathered round.

"The markers here indicate two manors in the Britz region,” Seward said, pointing to two specific areas of the map.

I studied them. One was nestled at the base of the Carpathains, while the other bordered a massive forest.

"It was this one," I said, pointing to the marker that bordered the forest. "There was a forest right outside the windows."

“If she’s still there,” Seward said. “She could be anywhere by now. She must know we're after her. Once she receives word of Francois' death…”

“Then we must make haste," I said. "At the moment, this is our strongest indication of where she is. We should depart tomorrow."

* * *

The next morning, I awoke just as the sun rose above the horizon. I wrapped a cloak around my nightdress and padded down the hall to Gabriel’s guest room…but he wasn’t there. Worried, I raced down to the dining room, where Seward and Anara sat closely together, in quiet discussion.

“Have you seen Gabriel?” I asked. “He’s not in his room."

“He’s out back taking a walk. I warn you—he’s damned grumpy,” Seward replied, with an irritated scowl. “You should remind him we saved his life last night.”

I hurried outside, finding Gabriel walking amongst the hedges. He looked completely restored; his skin flushed and vibrant, his silver eyes bright. There was no indication he'd been on the edge of death the night before. He paused mid stride when he saw me.

“I want to be alone," he said shortly.

“What is the matter?” I asked, frowning. “Gabriel…please. Talk to me.”

He hesitated, his expression filling with both anguish and disgust.

“Last night…I would have killed Abe had Anara not stopped me,” he bit out. “You do not understand…I vowed to myself that I would never drink human blood…that I would never become like the ferals we’ve seen. I hate what I am! I always have. You were right to try to kill me when you first met me,” he added bitterly. “Now please…leave me be.”

Disbelief swirled through me at his words. I deliberately moved in front of him to block his path.

“Mina—“

“How many times have you saved my life and the lives of others? The character of a man is defined by his actions," I said, repeating the words I’d once spoken to Szabina. “You insult those of us who love you by insisting you're a monster. When I first met you, I thought all vampires were evil—but I was a fool to think so. You were the one who convinced me otherwise. I will save your life a thousand times over if need be.”

Gabriel was looking at some point past my shoulder as I spoke, but his eyes filled with emotion at my words. I reached up to touch the side of his face, making him look down at me.

“I didn't know how lonely I was until you came into my life. Yes, I had Jonathan and Clara...and now I have Abe. But you are my brother, my family, and I love you.”

"I love you as well, sister,” he replied, giving me a halting smile. “I…I wish we had known each other as children. My life would have been less lonely."

"As would mine," I agreed. "But we know each other now. There will be no more talk of how monstrous you are. I will not have you insulting my family." I reached out to link my arm with his. “Now…please come back inside.”

We made our way back to the house in companionable silence. Gabriel was more relaxed now, the strain in his shoulders gone, and a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Abe was now in the dining room with the others, including Emma. She looked relieved at the sight of me and Gabriel, rushing forward to enfold us both in a warm embrace.

Over breakfast, I informed her of the previous night’s events. Her eyes widened as I spoke, and she paled when I told her of Gabriel’s brush with death, reaching across the table to grip his arm.

“We succeeded in killing Francois and determining Bathory’s possible location,” Anara said, once I’d finished my tale. “But I regret that we were unable to kill Matyas.”

Anger ricocheted through me at the thought of Matyas. I had been so consumed with Gabriel’s near death in the aftermath of our confrontation that I’d nearly forgotten about him.

“He’s likely fled to Bathory’s side,” I said bitterly.

“If he’s with her, we can still kill him,” Gabriel said.

“Matyas is not who we are after,” Seward reminded us. “We need to remain on task. Francois’ surviving followers may be searching for us in Paris. We can’t stay here for much longer—we’re too close to the city. Tonight, we should depart from Calais instead of Paris.”

“And we should send Noelle a wire before we depart, letting them know we escaped safely and our next destination,” Abe said to Anara. “Perhaps they will join us when they can…perhaps not. They did lose one of their own.”

Anara nodded her agreement. I turned to Emma as a troublesome thought occurred to me.

“You shouldn’t stay in this house,” I said. “They may track us here—only to find you. Until this is over and we know it's safe, you should find someplace safe to live.”

“I have no intention of staying here,” she assured me. “I am coming with you.”

The dining room fell silent. We all looked at her in astonishment.

“No,” I protested. “You told us you want no part of this war, and you are right. It is far too dangerous for—“

“I thought it over last night," Emma interrupted. “I couldn’t live with myself if I allow Isabel’s children to go after Elizabeth Bathory on their own. Now, I do not intend to fight,” she hastily added. “I am not a fighter. But I would like to remain with you and Gabriel. I can make myself useful in other ways.”

“It's too dangerous,” I insisted. I thought of our friends and allies who'd already sacrificed their lives…even Gabriel had nearly died last night. How could I allow someone else to put herself in mortal danger—especially a newly discovered relative?

I looked at the others for agreement, but they looked uncertain.

“It would be helpful to have someone serve as a lookout, a messenger, a—“ Seward haltingly began.

“No,” I repeated. “Are you mad, Seward? Our journey is even more perilous now. Did you not see the magnitude of Bathory's power last night? Now there are more vampires actively searching for us.”

“Emma is half vampire,” Seward continued, unperturbed by my protest. “She could—“

“She isn’t a fighter. Not all vampires are—“

“Mina, I am certain of my decision,” Emma said, her tone firm. "I shall be coming with you.”

“Emma—“

“If you are finished eating, there's something I'd like to show you and Gabriel,” she said dismissively, getting to her feet.

I watched her leave the room, desperate to dissuade her. I turned back to face the others. To my surprise and irritation, they were smiling with amusement.

"What is so humorous?” I demanded. "Do you not see how dangerous it is for her to come with us?"

"It is dangerous for all of us," Abe replied. "I think she wants to remain with you both because you are family—she is without one. Surely you can relate? I can tell she will not be dissuaded. I am amused because it appears that stubbornness runs in the family."

I scowled at him, though I knew he was right. Emma seemed intent on coming with us; it would be difficult to persuade her otherwise.

I reluctantly got to my feet, trailing Gabriel out of the dining room to follow Emma.

She led us up the winding stairs and into a room that was furnished only by a lone desk. She opened a drawer, unearthing a wooden box, which she placed into Gabriel's hands.

“There are letters inside," she said. "Letters your mother and I exchanged over the years. I'm glad I kept them. I wanted to show them to you sooner…but with all of your preparations for the attack on Francois…”

My desire to thwart Emma from coming with us subsided. It was replaced by an amalgamation of emotions as I looked down at the box; bittersweet joy, grief, and love.

“Thank you,” I whispered, still gazing down at the box, one of the few mementos I had of my mother. Gabriel opened the box with quiet reverence, handing half of the letters inside to me.

Emma gave us one last smile and left us alone, closing the door behind her. Gabriel and I were silent as we both sat down on the floor, beginning to read.

It was akin to reading Father’s letter back in Matford. Though Mother’s letters were addressed to Emma, it seemed as if she were speaking directly to me from the grave. I read through dozens of their exchanged letters with tears in my eyes. From her letters, I could tell that my mother had been brimming with curiosity and intelligence, with a sense of humor and gaiety that matched my father’s. She wrote of her love for my father, Gabriel's father, me and Gabriel, how much she feared for us all with the looming threat of vampires.

But it was the smaller details I focused on. She seemed to hate London society as much as I had, complaining of the insufferable snobbery of the women she encountered at balls during the Season. She wrote of the burden of keeping her true identity a secret, though she knew it was necessary. She wrote of missing Gabriel, how she longed to have him with her in London, and vowing to do so once the threat had passed. She wrote of her hopes for the future; the war over and leaders of the Old Families dead, the truth of her identity revealed and her family reunited. Imagine it, Emma, Mother wrote, in one of her final letters. All of us together. Me, Robert, Gabriel, little Mina. I think Gabriel and Mina will adore each other when they finally meet.

She was right; but the exact future she'd hoped for would not come to pass. I had to set the letters down, fighting to prevent myself from breaking down into sobs. Gabriel was still reading, his eyes hungrily devouring the words on the page.

Why didn’t you stay with us? Why did you go off to fight? I wondered, bitterness twisting my heart.

Yet deep down, I did understand why she’d left us to fight. Hadn’t I risked my own life by going after Skala on my own, out of fear that Abe would be killed in a direct confrontation with him? If Abe and I had children, and I feared they were in danger, would I not do whatever it took to protect them? I knew without a doubt that I would.

Now that I knew the full extent of my mother's sacrifice and her hopes for the future, I was even more determined to end the war and destroy Elizabeth Bathory.

21

Family

“May I sit with you?” I asked Emma.

We had just boarded the Orient Express, and our group was situated in our own private carriage.

Emma regarded me warily. Before we’d left the house, I’d again tried to dissuade her from coming with us, but she’d steadfastly refused to remain behind.

“I will not try to convince you to turn back,” I said with a smile, taking a seat when she gave me a hesitant nod. “I know that you’ve made up your mind. Abe thinks stubbornness runs in our family. I’m inclined to believe that he’s right.”

Emma returned my smile, her gaze sliding towards Abe, who sat with the others in quiet discussion across from us. I noticed that our group looked calm now, we’d been tense during our journey from Emma’s house to the train station. I’d expected an army of Francois’ vampires to descend upon us at any moment, but we’d arrived safely.

I studied Emma as she sipped her tea, her eyes returning to the passing countryside out the window. I wanted to get better acquainted with her. She’d been hungry to learn everything about me and Gabriel, yet she’d told us precious little about herself.

“If it is not too difficult…may I ask about your husband?” I asked delicately. “You told us that you were married? That’s why you went to America.”

Emma’s face shadowed; I instantly regretted my query.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just wanted—“

“No,” Emma shook her head. “I…I want tell you about him. My Steven was a professor of science…like your Abe. I met him when he was attending a conference in Paris. He was handsome and gay, it seemed as if he was always smiling. I was terrified to tell him what I was…though he seemed to know I was different. When I finally told him, he took it with great alacrity. The war was looming when we decided to get married; I insisted that we move to America to stay out of the fray. We were going to live a quiet and simple life. We…we were going to try for children before he fell ill. I wanted to turn him, but he refused. He had no desire to become vampire…even though I begged him to.”

“Emma…I’m sorry,” I murmured.

“The agony of his death made me want to end my own life,” she confessed, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin. “It is the eternal burden of living a long life…to watch the mortals that we love die.”

I glanced over at my brother, who was listening intently to Seward. Gabriel had told me that hybrid vampires were not immortal the way pureblood vampires were, but they did live exceptionally long lives, up to several centuries. It was unspoken between us, but we were aware that Gabriel would long outlive me.

“You told us one of your parents chose to die,” I said, returning to the present, recalling what Emma told us when we first met her. “Was it out of grief?”

“Yes,” Emma said, with difficulty. “My mother had already lived for three centuries, but my father was the only man she ever truly loved. She told me a life without my father was no life at all. She took her own life by simply choosing not to feed. She starved to death.”

“My God,” I whispered, reaching out to briefly cover Emma’s hand with my own.

“I was angry that she chose to leave behind her only daughter,” she said. “But after my husband died…I understood her devastation.”

“You’re not going to do the same, are you?” I asked, my heart clenching with unease.

“No. My parents made me vow to live for at least a century. I will honor my vow, though I came close to breaking it after Steven’s death,” she said. She fell silent for a moment, before continuing, “I know that you fear for my safety, Mina…but I am glad we are all together. Isabel would have been happy to know we found each other. The loneliness I have felt after Steven’s death…at times it was unbearable. It is wonderful to have a family again.”

Despite my worry, I did feel the same. Besides Gabriel and Emma, both Abe and Seward as well as Anara had become like family to me. I was grateful for their introductions into my life…even if it had come about due to a dark cause.

My gaze drifted to the newspaper that rested on the table in front of her. We had purchased the newspaper at the train station to search for any news of attacks on humans in Paris, but thankfully there were none. I prayed that Francois’ newborn vampires had died with him, and any remaining followers were focused on finding us rather than attacking innocent humans. There was no doubt in my mind that the news of Francois’ death had already reached Bathory. Anara had sent a wire from the train station in Calais to the members of the Order in Paris and Berlin, informing them of our destination, a small fortified village in Transylvania. Our plan was to join with them before attacking Bathory in her hunting manor.

I excused myself to return to the private compartment I shared with Abe. He entered soon after me, his brow furrowed. I knew that look well; he was in deep thought.

“What is it?” I asked, as he sat down next to me on the bed.

“Did it strike you as odd that Bathory did not seem concerned with the deaths of Skala or Draculesti?” he asked.

“She may have been putting on an act,” I said. “She was acting like she was the queen of vampires. She could hardly indicate that she was fearful over what happened to her allies.”

“I considered that. Yet that masquerade…they were celebrating as if they have already won the war.”

“They have had successes,” I admitted. “The Blood Plague has affected many cities.”

“But they have not won…not yet. Humans still outnumber them. Something about the whole matter strikes me as odd.”

“We must focus on what we can control rather than speculation. We are on our way to Transylvania to kill her. Once she’s destroyed, a great deal of the threat will be eliminated,” I said. Though I tried to sound calm, his words did concern me. I’d been wondering why the Parisian vampires seemed to be celebrating a victory. Did they know something we did not?

Weary, I closed my eyes. For the moment, I wanted to put all thoughts of vampires and the war aside. Emma’s words about her husband made me even more grateful for Abe. I reached out to wrap my arms around him, and he pulled me into the circle of his arms. I breathed in the scent of him—the musk of sweat, the hint of ginger on his breath from his tea. Even after all the danger we’d faced together, Abe was safe, alive, and here with me now; I let that comforting thought push all the disquieting ones aside.

“I love you,” I whispered, pressing my lips to his. He smiled against my mouth and returned my kiss. As it turned increasingly passionate, all thoughts of vampires were indeed cast aside.

* * *

Later, sharp knocks at the door pulled us from our slumber.

We hastily got dressed before Abe swung open the door. Seward stood there, his expression grim.

“There is some sort of disturbance with the tracks beyond the next station,” he said. “The train is unable to continue on this route…an attendant just informed us. They’re going to stop the train and reroute passengers.”

Abe and I nervously trailed Seward down the corridor to the dining carriage.

The others were gathered with the attendant, a stammering young man who looked intimidated by Anara, Gabriel, and Emma, as if he’d somehow gleaned they weren’t human. He didn’t give us any further specifics, only repeating that there was a disturbance with the train tracks.

My companions and I exchanged uneasy glances at his words. He didn’t need to give us specifics—we suspected there had been some sort of attack by ferals. Weeks ago, our own train had been derailed by ferals when we first headed into Transylvania.

“We have no choice but to take another train—riding horseback would take even longer to get to Budapest, even with the delay,” Gabriel said, once the attendant left us alone.

We nodded our agreement, though I dreaded any delay…Bathory could flee Transylvania at any time.

We were not far from Vienna, and the train soon pulled to a stop at its main station. We took cabs to an inn on the quiet outskirts of the city. It was tiny and somewhat dilapidated, surrounded by buildings that looked abandoned or were under various states of disrepair. But it was the only one that could accommodate us at such a late hour.

“I hope we are not delayed further,” I said to Abe, as I changed into my nightdress in the room we were to share for the night. “If other train stations have been compromised by vampires—“

“We do not know if that is the case,” Abe interrupted, sliding into bed and rubbing his eyes. “This is not like last time. We have been to Transylvania before…we know what to expect.”

Do we? I wondered, crawling into bed next to him. Though only a few weeks had passed since we were last in Transylvania, how could we be certain it was as we’d left it? It had been filled with mostly abandoned and isolated villages. The vampires who roamed the region had been Vlad and Ilona’s loyal followers. Were Bathory’s vampires situated there now? Had she been successful where Vlad had not—turning entire villages vampire?

My dreams imitated my anxious thoughts, and were again dominated by images of vampires I’d confronted or killed—Skala, Vlad, Francois. But this time…I saw my parents as well.

They were seated at the dining room table in our old home in London, facing me, their faces serene. I noticed that a small fire had started beneath the table. It was slowly rising to consume them.

“You need to wake up, poppet,” my father said, before I could warn them. “Wake up. WAKE UP!”

I awoke with a gasp.

Though I was now awake, I could still smell the caustic flames of a fire. Panicked, I looked around. Wisps of smoke snaked into the room from beneath the door, filling the room.

The inn was on fire.

22

Inferno

“Abe!” I cried.

Abe immediately sat up, looking around the room in alarm. We scrambled out of bed, coughing as we inhaled the smoke that wafted into the room. I darted towards the window to wrench it open while Abe cautiously approached the door.

“I can feel the heat—the fire must be spreading down the hall,” Abe said, picking up our bags from the floor and hurrying to my side.

We were fortunately on the ground floor; we were able to climb out the window with relative ease. I prayed that the others had made it out safely as we raced around to the front of the inn. Fire was one of the few things a vampire could not survive.

I spotted Anara in front of the inn. She was escorting the shaken innkeeper and his wife out the side door, while Seward helped a coughing young man out the front door.

I did not see Gabriel or Emma, and panic shot through my veins when I realized their rooms were at the far end of the ground floor hall—the hall that was now on fire.

I started to dash towards the inn, but Abe stopped me, pulling my body against his chest.

“Let me go—Gabriel and Emma are still in there!” I shouted.

“They would not want you to risk your lives for them!” Abe shouted, tightening his grip.

“Abe—let me go at once!” I demanded, but Abe’s grip was firm.

I stopped struggling when I saw Gabriel and Emma emerge from the side door, helping out a frightened elderly woman. Abe released me, and I raced towards them.

After we shared a grateful embrace, the rest of our group gathered round. I turned to glance back at the inn. The fire had already begun to dissipate; the innkeeper had hauled out a stand pipe and hose, and pumped water onto the dying flames.

“How did that happen?” I asked, studying the dying fire. Now that I knew the others were safe, my suspicion was aroused. “The fire seemed to start out of nowhere. It—“

“Silence,” Anara interrupted, her entire body going rigid.

I stilled when frosty eyes prickled my skin. My heart began to slam into my ribcage, and I turned. The sensation came from the alleyway that ran adjacent to the inn.

Two vampires darted out of the alley, their fangs bared and eyes black. Their hungry focus was centered on the terrified humans behind us, but Anara and Gabriel shot into their path.

As they began to fight in rapid movements, one of the vampires left the fray, leaping towards us. Abe and Seward shoved me and Emma behind them, but Gabriel whirled, catching the vampire by the throat and slamming him onto the ground. He started to snap the vampire’s neck, but I darted forward to grab his arm.

“No—I want to find out who they are!”

Gabriel’s breathing was labored with pent up aggression, but he nodded. He kept the vampire pinned to the ground as I kneeled over him.

Next to us, Anara dispatched the vampire she’d been fighting. He let out an agonized hiss as she brusquely snapped his neck; he sank dead to the ground.

“I recognize him,” I murmured, studying the vampire Gabriel held down, as Anara joined us. The vampire bared his fangs, struggling to free himself, but Anara helped Gabriel keep him pinned to the ground. He had silvery blond hair and blue eyes; a scar ran down the left side of his face. He was one of the vampires who’d stood next to Francois on the dais at the masquerade ball. “He was at the Night Masquerade.”

The others exchanged worried glances—we all knew what this meant. We had somehow been followed from France without being aware.

Setting aside my panic, I focused on the vampire’s eyes, gazing into their depths. But he shut them before I could begin to probe.

“You will not defeat our queen, Ghyslaine,” he growled. In an impossibly fast movement, the vampire jerked his head to the left side. The movement made a sharp cracking sound; I realized with horror that he had broken his own neck.

“Devils!”

I turned. Amidst the commotion of the attacking vampires, I’d temporarily forgotten about the humans from the inn who now stood behind us. They were looking at us as if we were the monsters, trembling with terror. The innkeeper shoved his wife behind him, holding up his fingers in the sign of the cross.

“Devils!” he shouted again. “Monsters!”

In a flash of movement, Anara approached each one of them, speaking in low tones. I couldn’t make out her words, but the humans visibly relaxed, going completely still as they listened to Anara with rapt attention. She was putting them in a thrall, coaxing them into compliance through her words. I watched this with unease. I still found the vampiric ability to put humans in thrall eerie, even when it worked to our advantage.

When Anara walked back to our group, the humans simply turned and walked away.

“What did you tell them?” Abe asked, astonished.

“To find help. They will not remember us or what they saw here,” Anara said calmly, turning her focus to the two dead vampires strewn on the ground. She gestured towards them. “We can’t leave them here.”

We decided to split into two groups. Me, Abe, Gabriel, and Emma would head to the train station while Anara and Seward would dispose of the dead vampires.

The neighborhood around the inn was so abandoned that it seemed the fire had gone unnoticed. After changing our clothes in the partially burned-down inn, we had to walk for some time through the desolate streets before we found a main thoroughfare, where we spotted a lone cab clattering through the streets.

We sat in the back of the cab in somber silence as it transported us to the train station. I noticed that Emma looked particularly pale; she was no doubt unaccustomed to the violence she’d just witnessed.

“Are you all right?” I whispered.

“Yes,” she replied, giving me a polite smile that did not reach her eyes.

We arrived at the train station to find it mostly empty at this hour. We found benches near the entrance where we sat to wait for the others.

“How did I not sense them?” Gabriel asked, his words taut with frustration. “If those vampires followed us all the way from France—“

“They may have disguised their scent, or taken a different route,” I interrupted. “Do not blame this on yourself. We were fortunate—no one was harmed.”

“After we were attacked in Matford, I vowed I would be more perceptive,” Gabriel said, not appeased by my words.

“We’re getting closer to Bathory. That may not be the last attempt to thwart us,” Abe said. “Were you able to see anything in the vampire’s eyes, Mina?”

“No,” I said. “But what he said to me is worrisome. That is the second time I’ve heard a vampire refer to Bathory as a queen. Does she intend to rule over vampires like royalty?”

“How could Vlad and Skala have agreed to that? They didn’t seem to be the type who enjoyed sharing power,” Gabriel said, baffled.

“Perhaps they didn’t,” I mused, as an unnerving thought occurred to me. I recalled Abe’s concerns about the vampires celebrating in Paris as if they’d already won. “Perhaps we have done Bathory a favor by killing them.”

“What do you mean?” Gabriel asked.

“From what we know about her…she has more loyal followers than Vlad or Skala. She could have sent scores of her vampires to stop us. But she hasn’t. What if…what if we are aiding her somehow? Killing off the other leaders so that she can hold onto power for herself?”

A heavy silence fell; Abe and the others looked disturbed by my words.

“Godsamme,” Abe swore. “I fear that you are correct, Mina.”

Unease settled over me as I considered my deduction. Why would someone who commanded such a loyal following, who enjoyed sole power, ever want to share that power with anyone else? If there were no other vampire leaders, she could rule on her own.

It was now apparent—we had inadvertently helped Bathory by killing Vlad Draculesti and Aurel Skala.

23

Transylvania

Hours later, the sun sank beneath the distant horizon as we rode on horseback into the Transylvanian countryside. Our journey from Vienna had been strained and silent; the encounter with the vampires at the inn and the recent revelation about Bathory heavy on our minds.

I was riding with Abe, his arms protectively around my waist. Anara and Gabriel flanked us on both sides, while Seward and Emma rode at the rear of our group.

I took in our surroundings as we entered the region. Though I knew it was unlikely that life would immediately return to the region with the death of Vlad, I still found its desolation shocking. We passed entire villages and farmsteads with no signs of human life; even the safer fortified villages and churches that dotted the countryside stood vacant. I rarely spotted any animals; it was as if life itself had abandoned the region.

We were on sharp alert for any sign of ferals; even stopping periodically while Gabriel and Anara rode ahead to check for disturbances. But the countryside seemed to be completely abandoned.

We soon arrived at a fortified village deep in the countryside, surrounded on all sides by thick patches of forest. The village was typical of the region, consisting only of a church and several cottages, enclosed by a high stone gate. We settled into the church for the night; it was the most secure of the buildings.

“The other members of the Order will meet us here tomorrow. Until they arrive, no one leaves,” Anara said, locking the church door behind us as we filed inside.

No one was going to argue with her. In spite of the emptiness of the region, the threat of danger seemed omnipresent.

I looked around. The pews inside the church had been pushed to the sides; a half-dozen wooden tables with chairs were situated in rows where the pews had once been. We found several private rooms with small beds already nestled inside; the previous inhabitants must have stayed here as a last place of refuge before permanently fleeing the village.

Once we were somewhat settled, I sat with Abe, Seward and Emma at one of the tables to eat a meal of bread, roasted vegetables, and ale that we’d purchased from an inn near the train station.

“I thought vampires would have overrun Transylvania by now,” Seward said, taking a large sip of his ale.

“They have gone to the cities,” Abe grimly replied. “Millions of humans to feast upon and transform.”

“Why did we not consider that Bathory was the true leader all along?” I asked with frustration. “She’s the one we should have focused on—the most powerful one.”

“We were only aware of Vlad when this all began,” Abe said, but he looked equally stymied.

Weary from our journey, Abe and I retired for the night after we ate, settling into one of the rooms in the back of the church.

“We should use my blood to poison her,” I told Abe, as he shrugged out of his shirt. “It took time for several vampires to wound Francois, and he’s just her child. She’s far stronger. If we attempt to use weapons on her—“

“Are you suggesting that we use you as bait?” Abe demanded, whirling to face me. “We have discussed this, Mina. I will not allow you to put yourself in danger again—especially after what happened with Skala. Why must you be so damned obstinate?”

I blinked, stunned by the magnitude of his anger. Abe was glaring at me, his entire body vibrating with tension.

“I’m just proposing a sound way of defeating her,” I protested, my own voice rising in anger. How dare he try to order me about? “If we attempt to attack her outright—“

“The only way she can ingest your blood is if you use yourself as bait. That is what you are proposing, are you not? I was powerless to stop you when you insisted on risking your life to kill Vlad—“

“Did I not succeed? It was our best way to kill him at the time! I’m not proposing that I use myself as bait for Bathory—I’m not a fool! I simply want a way of killing her that lessens the risk of someone else dying! I have seen too much death, Abe. If I can prevent it—“

“There may be more deaths—more loss. We are attempting to kill a powerful vampire! I do not want any of our friends to come to harm, but it is not up to you to protect everyone, Mina! We shall surround Bathory and kill her with a stake in her heart. Even the most powerful vampire cannot withstand that. We will not use your blood. You promised me you would not risk your life to—“

“I won’t!” I shouted. “Abe, please understand, if there is a better way of destroying her, then –“

“We destroy her together. I—I cannot bear the thought of losing you. You are the love of my life, and I want to spend the rest of our lives together!”

I froze as his words permeated my haze of righteous anger. I stared at him, astonishment replacing my irritation.

“What—what are you saying?” I stammered.

Abe was silent for a long moment; his breathing ragged, his eyes filled with an array of emotions—love, frustration, fear.

“This is not how I wanted to propose. Not during a row,” he muttered. After another moment of silence, he stepped forward to take my hands in his, his expression softening. “But I have already spoken the words. I was going to ask when this was all over; I suppose I cannot wait any longer. I love you so…I always have. Wilhelmina Murray, my heart…will you be my wife?”

My eyes brimmed with tears as I gazed into the blue depths of his. Joy and love had completely taken over my senses; my anger of moments earlier was forgotten.

Abe had proposed before, during the first iteration of our relationship, when vampires were nothing more than an absurd whisper of a rumor, and the future seemed bright with promise.

Now, I smiled at the man I loved…the man I’d always loved. When Jonathan had proposed, a brief flicker of uncertainty had darted through me before I accepted. There had been no such uncertainty when Abe first proposed. I loved him to the very core of my being.

“Abraham Van Helsing,” I whispered, raising his hands to my lips and kissing both his palms. “Yes. I will marry you.”

The world around us temporarily faded away as our lips met in a passionate kiss. When we finally broke apart, breathless, Abe enfolded me in his arms.

“I do not wish to resume our argument—not after such a passionate interlude,” he murmured. His tone was light and teasing, before it turned serious again. “You will not put yourself in danger, will you?”

“No,” I promised. But I still longed for a different method of killing Bathory without a direct confrontation from our group. She was able to hold an entire ballroom of vampires in thrall. What would she be able to do to a smaller group of humans and vampires?

Trepidation over the looming confrontation with Bathory and happiness over my engagement to Abe battled for dominance in my heart, but I chose to focus on the happiness for now. True happiness had been limited since I’d become involved in the war. I wanted to relish in it for as long as I possibly could.

We decided to not tell the others about our engagement until after the attack on Bathory, though I longed to share the news with Gabriel and Emma.

Yet I continually underestimated the perceptive nature of vampires. Gabriel, Emma, and Anara studied us intently when we joined them at one of the tables for breakfast the next morning.

“What happened between you two?” Anara asked, her eyes narrowed. “Do not deny it—there is something different.”

I couldn’t halt the grin that spread across my face at her words. I glanced at Abe, and he gave me a rueful nod.

“Abe and I are engaged,” I said. Speaking the words out loud infused my heart with happiness.

“It’s bloody well time!” Seward said, getting to his feet with a teasing smile. “I knew the first moment I saw you two in Arthur’s drawing room that you belong together.”

I returned his smile as he embraced both me and Abe. Gabriel approached, enfolding me in a warm embrace.

“After this is all over,” Gabriel said to Abe, when he released me, “make my sister happy. Mina deserves all the happiness in the world.”

Abe smiled, giving Gabriel a nod of assent as Emma moved forward to embrace us both.

“Felicitations,” she said, beaming. “You already seem as if you have been together for many years.”

“Hold on to each other….love each other well,” Anara said, when Emma had stepped aside. “Human life passes in the blink of an eye. Savor every moment,” she added, her eyes flickering briefly over to Seward.

“We will,” I promised, moved by her words.

We gathered round the table to share a congratulatory toast of ale. I beamed at my friends, wishing I could preserve this happy moment in time.

But we had to get to the matter at hand, and began to discuss our plans for the attack on Bathory as we sat down to eat.

“You can’t possibly attack Bathory on your own,” Emma breathed, when Anara proposed approaching Bathory’s manor without the members of the Order.

“The Order should have arrived by now,” Anara said, her brow furrowing with worry. “There is the possibility they’ve backed out due to cowardice—or they've been attacked by Bathory’s followers. We may have no choice. If we can—”

A sudden pounding on the church doors interrupted her.

We were instantly on our feet. Abe, Seward, and I reached for our weapons, while Anara and Gabriel moved into protective stances in front of us. Behind us, Emma stumbled back, her hand flying to her heart.

A desperate sob came from the other side of the door.

“Anara! It is Rudella—from Berlin! Please let me in—they have killed the others!”

I lowered my kukri, but Anara looked suspicious.

“Your scent is odd. What is our secret phrase? The phrase we decided on in Berlin?” Anara demanded.

Rudella’s weeping only increased.

“Anara, please! I—I don’t—“

“Anara, perhaps—“ I hesitantly began, but she silenced me with a look.

“The phrase, Rudella!”

“Deya shir imel fin,” Rudella cried. "Please—Bathory's ferals killed everyone! Let me in!"

Anara shoulders relaxed. She moved to the door, unbolting it and swinging it open.

My heart plummeted in my chest at the sight that greeted us.

Rudella was held in the arms of a towering female vampire…Elizabeth Bathory. With her black dress and cloak, she looked as if she’d stepped directly from a nightmare. Rudella’s eyes were wild; she looked as if she wanted to scream, but she did not move. Her words must have been forced from her by Bathory.

The room seemed to tilt on its axis as Bathory twisted Rudella’s neck, and her lifeless body fell to the ground.

Before we could attempt to strike out at her, Bathory paralyzed us all with a simple look, and our weapons fell from our hands.

24

Fear

Bathory entered the church, stepping over Rudella’s body as if she were discarded waste, her dark eyes sweeping over each of us with amusement.

“I have known you were coming for me since you left France. Did you truly think I would be as easy to kill as those impetuous fools, Vlad and Aurel?” she asked, her powerful voice dominating the church.

She stalked towards us; a snake approaching her helpless prey. She reached me and stopped, surveying every inch of me. Up close, I could see just how striking she was; ageless ivory skin, a heart-shaped face framed by flowing auburn waves, a full mouth that was now curved into a bemused smile, sparkling obsidian eyes. The coppery scent of blood emanated from her; if I wasn’t paralyzed I would have recoiled from the smell.

“As much as I enjoy killing, I enjoy making new children even more. New loyal followers. Wilhelmina,” she continued, her eyes intent on mine. “You fascinate me. A mere human woman who has killed so many of my kind. What Skala did to you…it was typical of his lowly nature. There are more creative ways to get into your mind. More…enjoyable ways.”

My heart pummeled against my ribcage, icy fear coursing throughout my body as she continued to gaze at me. Though I was terrified, I prayed that she would drink from me. If she were weakened, we’d be released from her thrall and could attack all at once.

Instead, she leaned forward, pressing her blood red lips to mine. A wave of revulsion rolled through me at her touch, but it was soon replaced by an odd sense of calm.

I watched in a daze as she did the same to the others, pressing her lips to each of theirs in a kiss. I tried to keep my eyes open, but a great fatigue had settled over me, and the church gave way to blackness.

* * *

I awoke in a windowless room, sitting up with a strangled gasp.

Shaking, I looked around. The room was bare—nothing but wooden floors and walls. It was too upscale to be a cell; both the floor and walls gleamed as if they’d recently been cleaned. It could have once served as a library or private study.

My limbs were stiff and heavy, I had to force myself to my feet. I stumbled to the door, turning the fine brass knob, but it was locked from the outside. Though I knew it was futile, I hurled myself against the door, hoping to somehow dislodge it.

The door did not budge.

I stepped back, my breathing ragged with panic. Where were the others? Why hadn’t Bathory killed us on sight? I thought of her words in the church. I enjoy making new children.

Was it her intention to change us? Despite the horrifying possibility, a tiny flicker of hope sprang forth. If so, she would drink from me.

A wave of dizziness suddenly hit me, the same dizziness I’d experienced in the church before I blacked out, and the room around me once again faded away.

This time, there was no void of blackness. Instead, I found myself standing in a familiar-looking forest. I looked around, frantic. Was this in my mind—or was it truly happening? A torturous moan from a clearing up ahead pulled me from my panicked thoughts.

I recognized the moan. It had reverberated throughout my nightmares for years.

I stumbled towards the clearing, my hands flying to my mouth at the sight that greeted me.

My father’s dying body lay in a pool of his own blood, his brown eyes weakly meeting mine. Grief seized me as I rushed forward, sinking to my knees at his side. Every feature of his face was as I’d remembered; from his brown eyes to the lines around his mouth. He looked so real. How was this happening?

“Mina…” he rasped. “Why did you not save me?”

It was the same words I’d uttered to myself over the years, whenever my guilt outweighed my grief. Heartbroken, I began to weep.

“I should have stopped you…I think of you every day. I’m sorry, Father…”

I closed my eyes as I reached for his limp hand, sobs wracking my body. My father’s hand slipped from mine.

When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in the forest clearing. I was now in a small cottage.

Directly in front of me, lying in the center of the floor, was my mother.

She was naked, bleeding and bruised, curled up in a protective ball. Several vampires, including Matyas, stood around her, their fangs dripping with what I suspected was her blood.

“Please…” my mother wept, looking up at them, her face beaten beyond recognition. “No more. Kill me. Please…”

Rage paired with grief flooded every part of me at the sight. She begged for her life, Matyas had once told me. I was witnessing the last moments of my mother’s life. Was this a nightmare? A memory?

I was now unable to move, and no one seemed to be aware of my presence. I could only watch with dread as Matyas sank down onto his haunches, baring his fangs.

“As you wish, Ghyslaine,” he hissed.

I tried to cry out, but unable to move, I could only watch as Matyas sank his fangs into my mother’s throat, draining the remaining life from her body.

The cottage faded away, and I was in the cellar where Skala had tortured me, chained to the wall.

I looked up, terrified. Skala stood opposite me, a twisted smile on his face as he lunged at me, wrapping his hands around my throat, squeezing the air from my lungs. I fought him, struggling to breathe, but I soon ran out of air, the cellar growing dim around me.

And then I was standing in the drawing room of my home back in London. I reached for my throat, but no traces of bruises from Skala’s hands marred my skin.

I stilled when I heard a scream from upstairs. It was Clara.

I raced out of the drawing room and up the stairs, halting in my tracks. Clara lay dead on the hallway floor, a feral vampire hungrily feasting from her throat.

“Clara!” I wept, darting towards them, but I found myself in the study of Abe’s home in Amsterdam.

I pressed my hands to my temples, disoriented. None of this is real, I told myself. You are in a thrall. Bathory has done something to your mind.

The thought did not quell my lingering despair over all I’d just witnessed. I turned towards the doorway, dreading what I would find here, when I saw Bathory and Abe.

She stood in the doorway behind him, her arms wrapped around his waist as if they were lovers, her eyes focused on mine with a feral intensity. Abe looked dazed, blinking at me in confusion.

“No—“ I began, but in a flash Bathory reached up, placing her hands on both sides of his head, and jerked it to the left with a thunderous crack.

Abe sank to the floor, dead.

I screamed. The grief that coursed through me was so wrenching that I sank to my knees, unable to tear my eyes from the body of the man I loved.

“No,” I sobbed, ignoring Bathory completely as I crawled forward, resting my head on his still body. “Abe—“

“He is gone,” Bathory said, her voice light as air as she looked down at me. “You have no one. No one but me.”

“This is not real,” I gasped, lifting my head from Abe’s chest. “None of this is truly happening.”

“Your lover is dead. Like your parents. Like everyone you love,” Bathory continued, as if I had not spoken at all. “You have no one.”

“Stop,” I pleaded, shutting my eyes against the sight of her, the horrifying sight of Abe’s dead body. “Please—enough! Enough!”

But it did not stop.

Like clockwork, I was once again in the forest over Father’s dead body. The cottage with my dying mother. The cellar with Skala. London with Clara. Amsterdam with Abe. Over and over again; a nightmarish litany of my worst fears. I don’t know how often I lived through each torturous scene; I couldn’t close my eyes to block out the images, and nothing I did changed the outcome. It was far worse than any physical torture Bathory could have inflicted. After sobbing over Abe’s dead body for what seemed like the hundredth time, I longed for death.

When I again found myself in the forest where Father died, I forced myself to calm down and think.

Every monster has a weakness.

But so did every human. Bathory was using mine against me. While we were unconscious, she must have probed our minds, unearthing our greatest fears.

Mine was loss, had always been loss. Loss had been a part of my life since Mother died when I was a child. If Abe and my friends were undergoing the same torture, they were also living through their greatest fears.

This had to be the reason why Bathory had so many loyal followers. She broke them down until she made them her own.

Not me, I thought, feeling a sudden surge of determination as I once again watched Abe die. I would not allow her to succeed with me. In order to fight back against this mental torture, I would have to overcome my greatest fear. I would have to face my loss rather than try to fight against it.

When I again found myself in the forest, I moved towards my groaning Father. I sank to my knees, taking his hand in mine.

“I miss you every day, and I love you so,” I whispered. “Your death has haunted me. But I must let it go, Father. It’s the only way I can defeat the monsters who took you and Mother away from me.”

As I watched my father’s eyes flutter shut, a deep sense of acceptance settled over me. I braced myself for the next scene, for the cottage where Mother was tortured…but instead I found myself in the windowless room I’d first woken up in.

Astonished, I looked around. Had I somehow broken the thrall?

I took a breath, remaining focused. I needed to stay alert. I needed to stay in the present before Bathory’s thrall pulled me back into my mind.

Yanking back my sleeve, I raked my fingernails over my skin so roughly that they drew blood. I cried out at the pain, but hoped it would be enough stimulus to keep me in the present.

I moved over to the left wall, praying that the others were in adjacent rooms. I knocked on the wall.

“Abe? Gabriel?” I shouted. “Seward? Anara? Emma? It’s Mina!”

There was no response. I closed my eyes, resting my forehead against the wall, fighting back a wave of frustrated tears.

“Mina?”

It was Abe’s voice. My heart leapt with joy at the sound. The image of his death had been so potent, there was some part of me that feared it was real.

“Yes, Abe. It’s Mina,” I shakily replied. “I know what she’s doing. She’s using our fears against us. To keep your bearings, you must keep talking to me…or inflict pain on yourself. And you must face whatever horrible thing you are seeing...you must not fear it. It is the only way.”

“You—you are not real,” Abe said, his voice strangled and broken. “I—I saw her kill you. She ripped your heart from your chest. I could not stop it.”

“No,” I said, my heart breaking at the desolation in his tone. “It is me. I am real. You need to—“

“Please—leave me be. Mina is gone,” Abe said, his voice catching on a sob.

“Abraham Van Helsing,” I said sharply. “I am real and alive, and I fully intend to stay that way. We have a marriage and a lifetime to look forward to. It does not end here. Do you understand? It will not end here!”

There was a silence that stretched for so long I began to worry.

“Mina? My heart,” Abe breathed. “It is you…”

“Yes. She is trying to break us—to turn our minds against us. You have to stay alert and present. Whatever you are seeing—face it. Do not let fear consume you. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Abe replied, his tone steady now.

“Can you knock on your opposite wall? I believe we are being held in adjacent rooms. Tell whoever is in the next room to do the same.”

“I will,” he promised. “Mina?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

I took a moment to savor the warmth that spread through me at his words. My fear of loss was intimately tied to love; I’d already lost my parents, the two people I loved most in the world. But my fear had been a weakness; I needed it to be a strength. I needed to use it as a tool to survive. Now, I allowed the love for Abe, my brother, and my friends to flow through me, increasing my determination.

“And I you,” I whispered.

I moved over to the opposite wall. I still didn’t know how we were going to get out of our predicament, but having our wits about us was a start.

When I knocked on the opposite wall, Gabriel’s tormented voice responded. Like Abe, he didn’t believe I was real, and it took some time to convince him.

“Did you see her?” Gabriel whispered, when I finally got through to him. “Did you see our mother? What they did to her—“

“Yes. I—I saw everything. I know it is difficult—but do not give in to your pain and grief. Accept what is happening…has happened. If you succumb to your fears, she has won, and she can keep you trapped in your mind.”

After I urged him to knock on the adjacent wall, the room around me began to fade. Panicked, I again raked my fingernails over the flesh of my arm, drawing more blood. It worked, the pain seemed to keep me in the present, and the room became solid.

I walked back over to the opposite wall.

“Abe!” I cried. “Abe—we need to talk to each other. It can help keep us present. Abe!”

“I am here,” he said weakly.

“I knew I loved you when I first saw you in Father’s study,” I said, seizing upon any happy memory that I could. “I was only fifteen then…but somehow I knew. Do you remember? I could barely meet your eyes.”

“I thought you were shy,” Abe replied, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “How wrong I was.”

“I was terrified you would meet a suitable woman and get married. I even asked Father if you were courting anyone,” I continued, resting my head against the wall. “I remember how happy I was when you first told me you loved me. I was afraid my love would be unrequited.”

“Never,” Abe swiftly replied. “You are the only woman I have ever loved.”

We continued to talk—about the very first trip we had taken with Father, the first time I had shown him around London, the first time he had shown me around Amsterdam, and other joyful times from our shared past.

We must have spoken for hours, because fatigue soon settled over me. It became increasingly difficult to fight off, no matter how much I raked my fingernails over my skin to draw blood. Sleep would be dangerous; it would return us to the dark recesses of our minds.

“Abe,” I said faintly, as my eyes began to droop. The lulls in our conversation had grown longer with time. “We must stay awake. Abe?”

He didn’t respond. Despite my rising panic, my desire to call out his name and wake him, my fatigue was even stronger…I could no longer fight it.

“You are quite impressive, Ghyslaine.”

Bathory’s voice pulled me from my slumber. My eyes flew open, and I recoiled. Bathory was in the room with me, cradling me in her lap as if I were a child. I wanted to scramble away from her, to cry out in terror, but she had me paralyzed in her arms.

“No human has ever been able to remove themselves from my thrall,” she continued, appraising me with intrigue. “I adore a challenge. I shall break you, Wilhelmina.”

She glanced at the door, and it opened. Hatred twisted through me when I saw Matyas enter with another large vampire. I’d instinctively known that he would ally himself with Bathory. If only we had the opportunity to kill him at the ball.

But I didn’t have time to focus on my hatred; he and the other vampire dragged Abe, Seward, Emma, and a bound Gabriel and Anara inside, tossing them to the floor. Bathory dismissed Matyas and the other vampire with a flick of her hand, and they left the room.

Despite her bound wrists and legs, Anara started to charge forward with a fierce snarl, but Bathory stilled her with a look, and Anara flew back against the wall. The others were paralyzed as well when Bathory’s eyes flitted over them.

She returned her attention to me, smiling as she eased me off her lap and propped my frozen body up against the wall, as if I were a doll.

Tears blurred my vision as I met each of their eyes, settling on Abe’s. I am sorry. This is my fault.

“I shall take your fears from your mind…and make them real,” Bathory said, standing to approach my friends.

25

The Choice

“The art of killing lies in anticipation,” Bathory murmured, walking past each of my paralyzed friends. “Humans make the most delightful prey. Their fear…it tastes like the sweetest wine. Who shall I dispatch first? One of the hybrids tainted with human blood? The traitor to her own kind? The weak human man? Wilhelmina’s handsome lover?”

Fear gripped my heart, and tendrils of dread coiled around every part of my body at her words. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe; the air had been sucked out of the room. No, I thought desperately. Dear God, no.

Bathory whirled back towards me, her black eyes shining with excitement.

“I shall start with the weakest.”

In a flash, she grabbed Seward and yanked him towards her, sinking her fangs into his throat. Though he was unable to move, I saw the terror in his eyes as she drained him of his blood. An internal scream reverberated within me as I watched the life drain from my friend’s body.

Anara’s eyes were consumed with grief and torment; blood tears spilling down her cheeks as she watched Seward die. Anguish filled Abe’s expression; Gabriel and Emma looked stricken with horror.

Bathory released Seward from her grasp with a contented sigh, his blood staining the sides of her mouth. Seward’s lifeless body slid to the ground.

Death was a cruel thing; instantaneous, impersonal, and permanent. Snatching life from the here and now, releasing it into oblivion. No matter how many times I watched someone die, the effect was still the same; despair settled over my body, its weight siphoning the air from my lungs, rendering me hollow.

This is not happening. This one of my dreams, I told myself. I did not break the thrall. This cannot be real.

“This is very real, Wilhelmina,” Bathory said, gleaning my thoughts. She crossed the room to kneel before me, reaching out to stroke my face with her frosty hands. I wanted to look away from her deceptively beautiful face, to recoil from her touch, but I was held firm in her thrall. She gazed into my eyes, pleasure filling her own at the agony she saw there. “I could have gone straight for your lover…but I will leave him for last. I want the tainted hybrid next. The beautiful one with silver eyes.”

Panic like I had never known rippled through me, replacing my despair. I had to stop her. I couldn’t bear to watch Gabriel die. While she was looking at me, I had to seize upon an opportunity I didn’t have before. I needed to get inside her mind.

I held her gaze, forcing myself to a place of calm as I searched her soulless black eyes. Every monster has a weakness. Every—

The room faded away before I could finish the thought.

I was a young girl, standing in the dungeon of a castle. My mother stood at my side, my hand in hers. My father stood across the room, in front of a servant girl chained to the wall. The servant girl was nude and sobbing, begging for mercy.

My father turned towards me, his fangs stained with her blood. He approached, kneeling down in front of me.

“You must learn, my Elizabeth,” he said. “Humans are not like us. We are above them. They are prey, we the hunter.”

He stood and moved back over to the servant. She screamed as he yanked her head back by her hair, revealing her throat. He smiled, gesturing me to come forward. I looked up at my mother, who gave me an encouraging smile.

“Listen to your father, child.”

Trembling, I obeyed them, approaching my father and the servant girl.

“No, little Elizabeth,” the servant girl pleaded. “Please!”

I shut my eyes to block out her terrified face. My father reached out to grip my arm and shook me. I opened my eyes.

“You must always look,” he ordered. “Their fear is the best part of killing. Now drink.”

I forced myself to look into her pleading eyes. I moved forward, and sunk my fangs into her neck.

It was years later; I entered the same dungeon. I was a young woman now, approaching a man my age, who was chained to the wall, begging for his life. I halted, a stirring of hesitation filling my gut. I had not felt such hesitation in years. I moved forward and found myself unlocking his chains.

“I knew you were not a monster,” he said, when I freed him. “You have a heart, Elizabeth.”

The young man and I were fervently kissing in a forest clearing. He pulled back, resting his forehead against mine.

“Come away with me,” he whispered. “We can go anywhere.”

“They are my family. I cannot abandon them.”

“They are monsters. You are not one of them. Come with me, my love. Please.”

I was suddenly back in the room with Bathory. I had been released from the thrall.

Bathory now stood, her hands on her head, looking down at me in shock and disbelief.

“How—how did you —“

My friends had been released from the thrall as well; Anara immediately lunged at Bathory with a snarl. But Bathory whirled towards her, and Anara was slammed back against the wall, along with Abe, Emma, and Gabriel. She turned and advanced towards me, lifting me up by my throat. I sputtered and gasped, fighting to breathe.

“How did you get into my mind, human?!” she demanded. “I knew there was something different about you. Who are you? What are you? Are you a witch?”

She was not truly seeking a reply from me; I was unable to speak. She yanked me forward, sinking her fangs into my throat.

I had wanted her to drink from me, but terror coursed through me as she did so. In her enraged state, she could easily kill me before my blood affected her.

My panic did not last long. Bathory abruptly stiffened, dropping me to the ground. I landed with a thud, woozy and reeling. Bathory touched her bloodstained mouth, wildly shaking her head as she swayed on her feet.

“How can you be one of us?” she whispered in disbelief. “How…”

She stumbled to her knees. Though I had no weapon, I stumbled forward, desperate to do whatever I could to her in this weakened state. Anara, Abe, and Gabriel darted towards her as well, once again released from Bathory’s thrall.

Bathory vanished.

“No,” I rasped, stumbling to my knees. If Bathory had gone, we would lose her. She could easily get one of her followers to strengthen her with blood.

Abe, Emma, and Gabriel rushed over to me.

“I—I am slightly faint, but I can still fight,” I said, clutching my bleeding neck as they helped me to my feet. She’d not drained me to the point of weakness. “We need to find her. She—“

“She is still in the manor,” Anara whispered. “I can smell her.”

We turned. Anara had sunk to her knees opposite Seward’s still body, blood tears streaking down her face once more. Seward’s lifeless brown eyes stared at the ceiling, and grief seized my heart at the sight. Seward had once been so full of life.

“We will come back for you,” Anara whispered to him. “This is not over. I promise.”

There was no time to mourn for Seward, nor to decipher her cryptic words. Outside of the door, I heard muffled shouts and cries; bodies slamming into walls, grunts of pain. The sounds came from downstairs. Hope stirred beneath my despair. Others were here. Had the Order arrived?

We scurried to the door. Anara and Gabriel used their combined strength to barrel it open.

I turned towards Emma, whose face was pale with shock.

“Once we are out there, you need to find someplace safe to hide.”

Emma did not protest, giving me a hasty nod. Anara and Gabriel forced the door open, and we tore out into the hall.

As soon as we entered, one of Bathory’s henchmen barreled towards us from the far end of the hall. I froze with panic. We didn’t have our weapons.

I needn’t have worried; pure rage fueled Anara. She boldly charged ahead of us, dispatching both of them by snapping their necks.

We continued down the hall, making our way to the stairs. We halted when we heard multiple footsteps race up the steps towards us.

“Stay behind me and Gabriel!” Anara shouted to us.

We braced ourselves to face more of Bathory’s vampires. But it was the other members of the Order—Noelle, Nikolaus, and Kudret, along with two humans I didn’t recognize. Noelle tossed two stakes to me and Abe.

“I am sorry we did not get here sooner—there were attacks by Bathory’s ferals,” Noelle said, as we joined them to race down the stairs.

“You are here now. Please—get my cousin to safety,” I said, nodding towards Emma, who trailed behind us. “Bathory is still in the manor—we must find and kill her.”

Noelle nodded, gesturing to one of the other members to accompany Emma elsewhere as we descended the stairs.

I stilled when we arrived on the first floor. I recognized the room from the memory in Francois’ mind. It was a grand hall, filled with plush rugs and couches. Human heads were indeed mounted on the walls like prized game; I flinched at the grotesque sight. Yet I couldn’t be too focused on the sight of human heads—a battle played out before my eyes.

Two dozen members of the Order, mostly vampire, were fighting Bathory’s vampires in the expansive hall, their movements faster than my eyes could track. I saw no sign of Bathory amidst the fighting.

A group of Bathory’s vampires emerged from the fray, darting towards us. Anara and the others charged at them to fight.

Rage shot through me when I saw that one of them was Matyas, his cold eyes trained on me. He snarled, dashing towards me. Abe moved in front of me, but Matyas tossed him bodily aside and grabbed me by the throat, slamming me against the wall, his fangs bared. Both fury and fear gripped me as I started to lift my stake, but Gabriel leapt onto Matyas from behind, pulling him away.

Matyas quickly gained the upper hand, slamming Gabriel to the floor. With another ferocious snarl, he reached down to tear Gabriel’s heart from his chest.

“No!” I cried, lunging towards them. I lodged my stake into Matyas’ back from behind. I missed his heart, but wounded him. Matyas let out an agonized howl. Gabriel used his momentary distraction to roll out from beneath him, pinning him to the floor by his throat.

“For our mother!” he growled. Baring his fangs, Gabriel sunk them into Matyas’ throat, tearing out much of his flesh. Matyas struggled beneath his grip as blood gushed from his open wound.

Gabriel turned to look at me, giving me a subtle nod. I gazed down at Matyas. I thought of what I had seen of him and my mother; her pleas in her last desperate moments. A quick death would be too kind for this monster.

I surveyed his torn throat, the profuse bleeding from the wound in his back. His skin was growing even more pale, his blue eyes growing dim. He was already dying.

I kneeled, leaning in close to his ear, so that he could hear every word above the din of fighting that surrounded us.

“Know this. Isabel Ghyslaine survives through us. Her children have ended you. We will end Bathory. We will end this war.”

Matyas’ eyes flashed with defiance at my words, but there was a trace of defeat as well. Gabriel helped me to my feet. We watched as the life drained from Matyas, keeping our eyes on his until the very end.

“Mina…”

Abe rushed towards me, covered in blood, his throat and left arm bleeding from bite wounds. We quickly embraced, but there was no time to linger.

“In the back—I scent Bathory!” Anara shouted.

Anara had just dispatched the vampire she’d been fighting. She turned towards the entrance of a corridor at the back of the grand hall. Abe, Gabriel, and I trailed her out of the hall, avoiding the vampires from both sides as they fought with grunts and snarls.

We raced down the long corridor, which ended at an open door on our right. We entered. The door led to a rickety staircase that descended into a dark tunnel.

The tunnel was pitch black; we moved forward with caution. As we walked, I could barely make out grimy stone floors, empty cages splattered with blood, and fragments of bone. How many humans has she tortured here? I wondered with a shiver.

“Stay close together,” I whispered, clutching my stake. We continued forward, only the sound of our tense and ragged breaths accompanying us.

“She’s here,” Anara whispered. “Up ahead. She’s…weakened. I can smell her.”

We started to charge forward, but stilled when we heard hisses behind us. Ferals were approaching. Anara straightened.

“I will stop them—go!”

We darted forward, until we spotted a figure up ahead. Bathory. Gabriel growled and started to charge forward, but I stopped him.

“Careful,” I whispered. “This could be a trap. We approach—together. We surround her when we are close.”

Gabriel hesitated, but he nodded. We tentatively moved forward, spreading out to surround her once we were near.

Bathory was on her knees. Even in the darkness, I could see that her skin was now a sickly gray. She was struggling to breathe. I nodded at the others, and we lunged forward.

She looked up with a hiss, slamming Gabriel and Abe back against the wall, paralyzing them, as she lunged towards me. She may have been sluggish, but she managed to slam me to the ground, her grip firm around my throat as she squeezed. I struggled against her grip; I would soon lose consciousness. Fighting my rising panic, I found her eyes in the darkness, and the dungeon around me faded.

The young man I loved was on his knees in front of me in the forest clearing. He was pale, his face bruised, his throat bleeding. My father stood next to me, fury radiating from his entire body.

“Do it!” he shouted.

I made myself move forward. The man looked up at me, his eyes burning with hatred.

“I was wrong,” he spat. “You are a monster. You are not capable of love.”

Pain seared me at his words. Tears blurred my vision, but I smiled.

“Indeed,” I murmured. I reached out and snapped his neck, ignoring the grief that filled my heart.

“You have chosen well, daughter,” my father said.

I was once again in the dungeon. Bathory blinked in disorientation at the memory, loosening her grip on my throat.

I moved quickly. I reached for the wooden stake at my side, and sank it into her heart.

“You made the wrong choice,” I whispered. It was momentary, and perhaps I imagined it, but a tiny flicker of regret flared in her eyes, before they forever drifted shut.

26

Humanity

We were back in the room where Bathory killed Seward, standing in somber silence opposite Anara. She sat with his body cradled in her lap, her long curtain of dark hair partially concealing his face as she gazed down at him. The silence in the room was heavy with grief.

Elizabeth Bathory was dead, but there was no sense of victory within me; only a hollow emptiness.

Is this what victory feels like? I wondered. A chasm of emptiness?

At my side, Abe’s eyes were shut, as if the sight of his friend’s body was too much to bear. Next to him, Gabriel watched Seward and Anara, deep sorrow shadowing his expression. Emma hovered behind us, her head bowed and shoulders trembling.

After I staked Bathory, Anara reached us, ripping her limp body off of me. With a snarl, Anara tore Bathory’s head from her body with her bare hands.

Several other members of the Order, including Noelle, had raced into the tunnel soon after, and taken Bathory’s body away to burn it in the forest.

Noelle informed us that many of Bathory’s ferals had died with her, and the Order managed to kill her remaining vampires. The Order had scattered to check the surrounding forest to ensure there were no other vampires approaching the house, while another group searched every corner of the manor. There hadn’t been any indication of her surviving vampires; the manor was now secure, though members of the Order were posted around the house and the forest for added security.

We were reunited with Emma, who’d been hiding in a back cellar with an Order member; she wept at the sight of me and Gabriel, she feared we’d perished in the battle.

With the knowledge that Bathory was dead and the manor secure, we raced back up to the room where I’d been held captive to find Anara with Seward’s body.

Watching her with him now, I realized that what seemed like a flirtation between them had actually been love. For Anara, there seemed to be no one else in the room besides Seward.

When Anara finally spoke, her voice was tinged with sorrow.

“I know you are all surprised we cared for each other,” she said, her gaze never straying from Seward’s face. “It surprised me as well. I never imagined that I would grow to care…to love a human. But something drew me to Jack. I have known much darkness… and there was a lightness to him. An ability to find the good in everything and everyone. Somehow, he seemed to understand the pain of my past….he seemed to understand me,” she whispered. “I hoped we would have more time together. We never spoke of what would happen if he were to perish during this fight. I thought I was strong enough to keep him alive…to keep him safe.”

She drew a pained breath. She raised her wrist to her mouth, sinking her fangs into her own flesh, watching as blood dripped from the fresh wound.

Behind me, Emma gasped. Shock pulled me from my grief-stricken silence.

“What—what are you doing?”

“I cannot let him die. His body is not yet cold, there is still time,” she said, starting to lower her wrist to Seward’s mouth.

“We don’t know if he would want this,” Gabriel protested.

“I agree,” I said. “Anara, I mourn for him too, but it is not—“

“Let her do it.”

It was Abe who had spoken. He looked at me and Gabriel, conviction in his eyes.

“We have lost too many. If Anara can save him—let her. When he is revived, and he chooses not to live as vampire, it is of course his right to die. But now…let Anara do what she must.”

Anara had already pressed her wrist to Seward’s mouth, allowing her blood to flow into his throat, though she gave Abe a grateful smile.

“Leave us,” she whispered.

Though I felt conflicted about Anara’s decision to change Seward, I quietly obliged, leaving her alone and following the others out of the room.

* * *

Moments later, I stood in between Abe and Gabriel, watching as the flames of the fire consumed Bathory’s headless body, her flesh disintegrating with every lick of the flames. Nikolaus, Kudret, Noelle, and other members of the Order hovered around us. It was very much like an ancient burial ceremony, in the days when humans burned the bodies of their brethren on funeral pyres. Only Bathory was our enemy, and there was certainly no grief.

I thought of the images I’d seen when I entered her mind. Bathory as a young girl, trained to be a killer by her father. Bathory falling in love with a human and then betraying him. And then I thought of that flicker of regret in her eyes before she died. I harbored no sympathy for her, but the brief images I’d seen of her life lifted the veil of her monstrosity to reveal the damaged creature that lay beneath; the creature who’d chosen hatred over love…which consumed her in the end.

Soon Bathory's remains were nothing more than ash, and the others turned to file back towards the manor, until it was only me and Abe. He reached out to entwine his fingers through mine.

There would be more stray followers to kill, the Order would have to be formally restructured and put back into place, a system would have to be set up to prevent further attacks on humans. But the largest part of the fight was over—Vlad Draculesti, Aurel Skala, and Elizabeth Bathory were now dead.

Tears pricked at my eyes as I thought of all I had faced in the past few weeks, ever since the fateful day Abe approached me on the street to warn me of vampires in London.

“It is over, Mina,” Abe murmured. “It is over.

As if heeding his words, the breeze picked up, extinguishing the flames of the fire, and Bathory’s ashes scattered into the wind.

27

Possibility

Several weeks later, a dozen members of the Order were gathered in the drawing room of my home in London. I sat in the rear of the room next to Abe. Gabriel presided over this meeting; he stood in front of the small group as he addressed them.

I’d arranged to have the first meeting of the newly reinstated London branch of the Order in my home. Further meetings would take place at another member’s home just outside the city.

Abe, Gabriel, Anara, and I were now honorary members of the Order, but we would only be peripherally involved with the group going forward. Bathory and Skala’s surviving followers had scattered; there were now only sporadic attacks on humans throughout Europe. You all have done more than enough, Noelle had gratefully told us, before we left Transylvania.

We had returned to London several weeks earlier. I’d been reunited with a grateful and relieved Clara. She had burst into tears when I told her Abe and I were engaged. He had taken up residence with me, along with Gabriel, for whom Clara had already set up a room.

Emma had initially come with us to London and met Clara as well. To our disappointment, she had not stayed for long, returning to the Ghyslaine home in France. She was eager to turn it into both an inn and a meeting place for the Parisian branch of the Order of the Dragon.

“Are you quite certain?” I asked her. “You didn’t want to be involved in the war.”

“The war is over. I can help in my own way by offering the home for the Order’s use. It is a way of honoring your mother…she would be happy to know that her home is being used as a meeting place for the Order. Promise me you will come to visit often. I will certainly visit you and Gabriel as often as I can.”

I returned my focus to the present, as my brother continued to address the group.

“Members of the Order in Prague were able to capture a group of vampires who were arranging attacks on humans. They have set up teams of patrols to work with local police. Several other police departments from other cities are working with the Order as well,” Gabriel said. “If no one has anything further, we will adjourn for the day. Thomas will lead the next meeting at his home.”

Everyone began to disperse, bidding their farewells to me and Abe as they departed. Abe left my side to chat with several departing members of the Order, and Gabriel approached me.

“I will be going away for awhile,” he quietly informed me.

“What? Where?” I asked. “A mission for the Order? I hope that—“

“No. It is…personal. One of the Order members has a close friend in Constantinople; he knows of my father’s family. He received information that revealed my father may be alive. I must see if it is true. I hope to only be gone for a fortnight.”

“Oh, Gabriel,” I said, my hand flying to my heart. “Of course you must go. But please…stay in touch via wire and send letters. If I do not hear from you, then—“

“You will come after me,” he interrupted, smiling. “I know.”

“Clara will be the most upset about your departure,” I added, returning his smile. “Even if it is only for a fortnight.”

The doorbell rang as Abe joined us. We turned towards the doorway as Clara led Anara into the drawing room.

We froze at the sight of her, and my heart leapt into my throat in nervous anticipation.

We hadn’t seen her or Seward since we left Transylvania. Anara had taken Seward with her to Budapest as he underwent the Change; our letters and wires to her inquiring about his progress had gone unanswered. Days ago, she had written to me and Abe, informing us that she was now in London with Seward, but she needed more time alone with him.

Now, we all studied her anxiously as Clara left us alone. Anara smiled, her entire face luminescent with joy.

“Jack is awake and well. He would like to see you all.”

* * *

When we arrived at Seward’s home, we found him in his drawing room, seated in an armchair by the unlit fireplace.

I blinked at him in astonishment. The last time I was in a room with him…he had been lifeless. Though his skin was paler than before, his brown eyes brighter…he looked the same. It was like looking at a living ghost.

Seward gave us a tentative smile as we stood in stunned silence, taking him in.

“Christ,” Seward finally said, his smile fading. “Do I look that bloody awful?”

“Jack,” Abe breathed. He had gone pale at the sight of Seward, but once he spoke, the color returned to his face. It was as if he didn’t believe his friend was real until he’d spoken.

Seward beamed, getting to his feet, and Abe moved forward. They clasped hands; Abe looked down at their joined hands and winced.

“Ah. The cold hands,” Seward muttered, looking down at his hand, before giving Abe an apologetic look. He dropped his hand back to his side. “I’m still not quite used to it.”

“How do you feel?” I asked.

“Honestly? Bloody fantastic,” he replied, with a wide grin. “I was a bit surprised to wake up. Once Bathory had her fangs in my throat…I surmised it was over for Jack Seward. Anara gave me a choice…I chose life, even if it is as vampire. Truly, Mina…you and Jonathan should have let yourself turn vampire. There are hundreds of colors and smells I didn’t know existed.”

He sounded like the Jack Seward I’d come to know, and I smiled. I glanced back at Anara, who stood behind us. She was beaming, her eyes filled with love as she watched him.

Seward informed us that he intended to work with the Order alongside Anara; Scotland Yard never appreciated his efforts, and he could hardly go back to work as a vampire, the other detectives would grow suspicious of him.

We spent the remainder of the afternoon with Seward and Anara, reminiscing over our adventures together, and sharing our plans for the future.

Abe and I planned to wed in the fall in Amsterdam; it would be a simple wedding with Clara and our friends, both human and vampire. We were going to travel for some time before he took a teaching post; his male pride would not allow him to live off the generous inheritance Father had left me, though as my husband he was more than entitled to it, and it was likely what Father would have wanted. But I wasn’t going to argue the point; I knew his independence was as important to him as mine was to me. Together, we wanted to complete my father’s biological research before working on our own research; we would publish our findings together.

We spoke of the friends we’d lost; we planned to have a small memorial service for them all in the upcoming weeks. With the help of several Order members, we had brought Arthur and Lucy’s bodies back to England for burial. I had sent an anonymous note to the newspaper about Arthur’s bravery during the attack on the Demeter; I wanted some way to tell the world about his sacrifice, keeping the silent promise I’d made to him when we buried him on a beach in Holland weeks ago.

For Szabina, I found a small garden in the city, where I planted lilies of the valley in her memory. I would plant a larger garden for her on the grounds of my father’s home in Matford.

Evening had fallen by the time we bid farewell to Anara and Seward. We took a cab back to Highgate. As our cab meandered through the bustling streets, I realized I felt no sense of foreboding for the first time in weeks. It was an odd feeling, a wonderful feeling, one which I hoped to become accustomed to.

When we arrived back at home, Clara informed me I had a visitor who wished to see me alone in the drawing room. We gave her curious looks, but she merely ushered me along.

I froze when I entered the drawing room.

My visitor was Jonathan. He stood next to the window, gazing out at the street. He turned when I entered. I surveyed his familiar face; the hazel eyes and warm smile.

Without a word, we both stepped forward to embrace each other. There was none of the passion I felt when Abe was near; only the comforting warmth of friendship, and we stood silently in each other’s arms for several moments.

“I heard what happened…Clara gave me an overview while you were out. I’ve been keeping track of the stories in the newspaper; my vampire guards told me what they knew. I do confess…I was worried when I read about the ‘Blood Plague.’ But somehow I knew you and your friends would succeed, no matter how grave the odds,” he said, when we pulled apart. “I heard about your engagement. Clara could hardly contain herself, she was so excited.”

I nodded, lowering my gaze. I had planned to eventually write Jonathan to tell him of my engagement; I was unsure of how he would react.

“Mina.”

I looked up. He was looking at me with a bittersweet smile.

“I am happy for you. Truly. After all you have been through…you deserve happiness. And I owe you my life, after all. I thought I could at least call on you to offer my congratulations…for everything.”

“Thank you,” I said, beaming. I should have known that Jonathan would bear me no ill will about my engagement to Abe; he’d been the one to detect my feelings for Abe when I was still in denial about them myself. But it was still relieving to hear him say the words.

Clara brought us tea while we talked. Jonathan told me his vampire guards had left the same week Bathory was killed; he thought his guards were unnecessary, Vlad’s remaining followers had been focused on me, not him.

He was now in the process of founding a solo law practice, and he was courting a woman his mother didn’t approve of, though she was a society woman from a good family who spent her wealth helping the poor. I laughed when he told me this; I thought Mary’s dislike had been focused on me, it seemed she didn’t like anyone whom Jonathan courted.

When it was time for him to leave, he stood, reaching out to grip my hand.

“It was lovely seeing you, Mina. I’m sure you are off to some other adventure. Will you write?”

“Of course.”

After I walked Jonathan to the door, I found Abe in the study. He was seated by the window, pretending to read a book on geography.

“That book is upside down,” I teasingly pointed out, as I entered the room.

“Ah,” he said, flushing with embarrassment. He set the book down, not looking at me. “I take it Jonathan is well?”

“He is well. Courting a woman whom he cares for, and genuinely happy for us. You do a poor job of hiding your jealousy, Doctor Van Helsing.”

Abe’s flush deepened as he stood, and I drew him close, leaning in to press my lips against his in a gentle kiss.

“Where shall we go next, my heart?” Abe asked, when we pulled apart.

I thought for a moment, and then smiled.

“Everywhere,” I replied.

Now that the vampire threat in Europe had been eliminated, the future once again seemed alight with possibility. I recalled the words my father had written to me in his letter, and felt a meld of hope paired with love. I silently vowed to abide by his words, which now rang through my ears.

I would urge you to focus on the light in the darkness, on the one thing that makes humanity worth fighting for: love.

THE END
of

REALM OF NIGHT

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Prequel Short Stories

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Afterword

I hope you enjoyed THE BEAST OF LONDON, FORTRESS OF BLOOD, and REALM OF NIGHT.

Where to begin? I’ve been a fan of Bram Stoker’s Dracula for as long as I can remember. I love all of the characters, but Mina really stuck with me. About seven years ago, I began to think . . . what if Dracula was told from Mina’s point of view? What if there’s a whole history to her that we don’t know anything about? I reread the book and began researching the Victorian era.

I immediately knew that my version of Mina would be a woman ahead of her time, with a love of science and a dislike of the stringent society rules. Giving her a love of science made Abraham Van Helsing a natural love interest, who you may have noticed I aged down to about thirty. Once I had my fierce, intelligent and brave heroine, the story fell into place around her.

My version of Abraham Van Helsing is relatively close to Stoker’s creation. I aged him down and gave him a unique backstory, but he is still the intelligent doctor we first met in Stoker’s version. Jonathan Harker retains many of the same traits; a young solicitor who finds himself captured by the sinister Dracula. I made John ‘Jack’ Seward an inspector at Scotland Yard instead of a psychiatrist; Van Helsing has the doctor role in my book, and I needed a character who was already investigating the mysterious murders in London. Arthur Holmwood and Lucy Westenra remain similar as well (though in an early version I did consider having Lucy play a more major role in the book, but alas, she had to be sacrificed to the story gods.)

I have a bit of a dark fascination with Jack the Ripper, so I knew I’d tie him in with some of the events of the book, even if it was only loosely. Historically, the Ripper murders had ceased by the time this book takes place, the spring / summer of 1890.

The captain’s diary aboard the Demeter is a fascinating section of Stoker’s novel, so I wanted to include a reference to it. Realistically, at the time Mina and her allies could have taken the train from Charing Cross across the Channel to get to the continent, but it was too perfect of an opportunity to not reference this iconic ship.

Another note about travel: Stoker’s novel itself was one of my source material for Mina’s travels. Initially, I thought it would take forever for someone to get from point A to point B in 1890. But as I researched, I discovered that train travel was a (relatively) speedy and efficient form of getting around Europe at the time. Believe it or not, a very early draft had Mina and her allies traveling everywhere on horseback. That would have taken forever, and vampires would have indeed taken over the human world.

The Draculesti family and the Bathory families are historical noble families, though I’ve obviously taken huge historical license. The Skalas, however, are completely my own invention.

World building was important to me; I wanted the reader to feel like they’d stepped into the 1890s. As I am certainly not a historian, I did a heavy amount of research into the era. I read books, watched documentaries, listened to podcasts . . . anything I could to help immerse me in the world of Victorian era Europe. It was important to me to set this retelling in Victorian Europe. To me, Stoker’s classic is very much a product of its time. In a way, the novel is an exploration of anxiety towards all the change that was occurring: technological change, advances in science (Darwin’s book had been released), and so on. While I’m sure I was off with certain things, and I took license (for example, Mina traveling alone with several men she wasn’t married nor related to would get her a lot more side eye and suspicion), I think I got pretty close. Helpful books I read during my research include How to Be A Victorian by Ruth Goodman and A Visitor’s Guide to Victorian England by Michelle Higgs.

It was truly a thrill to retell Stoker’s classic from Mina’s point of view, and I hope you enjoyed the series.

I’d like to take a moment to thank my editors, Amy and Monique Fisher, and my proofreader Alexa. Thanks to the wonderful cover designers at Damonza and Kerry Hynds for designing my stunningly beautiful covers.

Thanks to my husband, for being my biggest cheerleader during my publishing journey, and who nearly fell off the bed (literally) with excitement when I pitched him the idea for this book series a few years ago.

And last but not least, I’d like to thank you, dear reader, for picking up this series bundle and plunging into Mina’s world for a few hours. Thanks for taking this journey with me.

- L.G.

Los Angeles, CA

2017

About the Author

L.D. Goffigan writes paranormal fantasy and thriller novels. She studied film and dramatic writing at New York University. She grew up on the East Coast but now resides in a large city by the sea on the West Coast. When not writing, she enjoys traveling and dreaming of new fantastical tales to tell.

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Also by L.D. Goffigan

SHADOW DESCENDANT

THE BEAST OF LONDON

FORTRESS OF BLOOD

REALM OF NIGHT