Zamani
Page 3
As she fed, she felt the same horrible sweetness she remembered feeling with Wren. Lucy’s blood spread through her mouth and down her throat like bourbon, warm, fiery. Her eyes were closed, and she was transported back to the bedroom, where Wren held her close, pressing Alex’s face to the bend of her neck, where blood beaded up under Alex’s lips and she’d had her first taste—barely a taste, but just enough. She remembered hearing the sound of Olivia’s voice as she slipped out of consciousness.
She felt Lucy’s free hand stroking her hair and Olivia’s voice changed to Lucy’s. “That’s all I can spare at the moment. Alex?” Lucy’s hand moved to her forehead and she applied pressure to remove her mouth from the wound while pulling her other arm away from Alex’s mouth.
Chapter Four
Even though she sensed that Alex had seen or remembered something while feeding, Lucy knew to let Alex guide the conversation. She found letting the newly awakened take the lead worked best. Alex was also a special case; she’d been groomed. Zofia and the others had been careful to find a list of the students in Olivia’s class, hoping to find her target before she got to them. They’d never expected Olivia to go after Wren, though. She knew as soon as she got Alex settled that she and Zofia would need to meet and work out what steps to take next.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the wound in Lucy’s arm vanish. Alex broke the silence. “You look tired from all of this. I worry that this hurts you.”
Lucy smiled and got them each more coffee and offered to make her some eggs. “I know I need to eat something. You can eat, as well—it won’t do you a lot of good nutritionally, but having food is comforting, especially for the newly turned. It’s familiar.”
She busied herself with scrambling eggs and making toast for the two of them, giving Alex some time with her thoughts. They ate in silence, Lucy taking the main share of the food while Alex picked at her eggs and toast.
When she’d gotten her fill, she pushed her plate away and lit a cigarette. “So, ask away. We can talk about me, or we can talk about you. Either way, we’ll get to it all eventually.” Lucy freshened their coffee cups and waited for Alex to decide what she wanted to know first. She also went to the cupboard over the coffee pot and brought out a bottle of brandy.
Alex drained the coffee from her cup and poured in some of the amber liquid. She thought for a moment and finally picked a starting question. “So, you said you’re a donor. Yet, your cut healed really quickly. Explain that.”
Lucy nodded. “The healing happens because you’re a vampire and your saliva actually seals the wound. Gross, I know, but that’s my best answer. Donors and vamps have a symbiotic relationship. In exchange for providing you with our blood, we are virtually immortal. We get all of the benefits you gained when you became a vampire, only to a lesser power. And, we can’t make anyone a vampire, so there’s that.” She topped off her own mug with some brandy and lit another cigarette. “And, we don’t partake in the drinking of blood ourselves, unless we decide to transition. There have been some donors who went a bit bonkers and when their vamp clients refused to turn them, they tried turning themselves. That never works out well.”
Lucy knew that without seeing the fast healing that Alex never would have believed anything. She could tell that even after that parlor trick and feeding enough to clear her head Alex was still unsure. She would, just like all of the vampires Lucy had rescued before, have to fully grieve before she could accept her new existence. It was all part of the process.
Alex wouldn’t believe until she saw the news and realized that as far as the rest of the world was concerned, she was dead. Her murder was guaranteed to be the feature story. Lucy heard some early reports on the television at work before clocking out and driving Alex home. The morning news was fairly brief; details would be more likely in the afternoon when kids had been sent off to school and moms would be sitting at home, eating lunch and hoping the local newscaster called them for the daily dialing for dollars game.
“Donors can’t die, then?”
“We can; many do. Those who become tired of living stop serving as donors. They then age normally and die. For instance, I am still the age I was when I became a donor; if I stopped being a donor, I would age and lose my resistance to disease and injury. I’d return to being normal, mortal. At my age, I would fade quite quickly.”
“You mentioned that you bought this house some 50 years ago. That would have been in the 1960s. How old are you?”
Lucy smiled. “If you ask my surname, you’ll find a surprise, I’m sure. Allow me to properly introduce myself. My name is Lucy West, but you’ll know me better as Lucy Westenra.”
Alex burst out laughing. “Yeah, right, and I’m the Duchess of York.”
Lucy smiled again. “It’s ok if you don’t believe me; eventually you will.”
“You’re basically asking me to believe that the novel Dracula is based in fact.”
Lucy shrugged. “It is. Whether you choose to believe it or not doesn’t change that it is based in fact.”
“But you died in the book. You became a vampire yourself.”
Lucy shook her head. “That part isn’t true. Stoker wasn’t completely honest, nor was Van Helsing.” She saw Alex’s eyebrows shoot up. “Yes, Van Helsing was real as well. Stoker was merely a ghost writer; Van Helsing was the true author. He used the novel in an attempt to alert others of vampires’ existence. Parts of my story in the novel are true and accurate. For instance, the transfusions happened. Van Helsing didn’t understand how I could be fed upon and not die. He feared I was made vampire. He did not, however, as you can see, cut off my head and stuff it with garlic.” Lucy laughed, and Alex did too a little. “And, I never fed on children. I did, however, fall in love with the Count and would seek him out at night. So, I was not a helpless victim.”
She paused. “Donors are given the option to become vampires. We very rarely choose to transition, although some do, especially those who fall deeply in love with those who turn them. Vampires all have a strong attraction, which I’m sure you’ll find works to your advantage. There are some vampires who, either by ignorance or through malice, don’t give their victims a choice and turn them unawares. That’s what I suspect happened with you. Whether it was malice or ignorance is a toss up, although I’m going to go with the ignorance option because Wren was caught.”
Alex sipped her brandy and considered her next question. “So, if I’m a vampire, how come I can be in daylight?”
“That’s an easy one. The whole night-time only sizzle in the sun thing is a myth. Stalking prey in the dark is simply easier than in broad daylight, especially in rural areas or on country estates. In a city like New Orleans or New York, it’s incredibly easy to hunt in the light of day. But, it’s less lonely in a way to separate yourself from normal people, I think. Being a night stalker allows for that sort of separation. A lot of vamps choose to hunt at night, as it’s far easier to feed on tourists and the like. Things haven’t changed much in that regard, but especially for those who have relationships with donors, there are options. As long as you are well-nourished you will tolerate sunlight just as well as you did before.”
Alex lit a cigarette. “OK, say that I buy your story here. Why didn’t the novel talk about donors, then? Wouldn’t the advantages of being a donor be seen as a great thing?”
“Absolutely. And that’s why Van Helsing lied in his story to Stoker. Times were different then; they truly feared for me and for my soul. The idea that I was exchanging my autonomy for immortality was too close to selling my soul to them. And, Van Helsing also had other motives for spinning things in his favor. How else would he have stayed so easily employed as a hunter? And, there’s also the other he left alive besides me.”
“Mina?” Alex asked.
“No, although we’ll get to her some other time. In the book, remember there are the three weird sisters? One of them made it out of the lair alive. And she’s in New Orleans.”
Ale
x thought back to her last memory of Wren’s blood on her lips. “Surely you’re not going to say that Wren is the one?”
Lucy shook her head. “No, Wren is likely a protégé of hers, though. I believe you know her as Olivia Holmwood.”
“This just gets better and better,” said Alex. “So, she was one of the weird sisters?”
“Yes. She was more than that, though—she is Dracula’s daughter.”
Alex replenished her brandy. “And you know this how, exactly?”
“Van Helsing may have spun the truth to Stoker, but he trusted me as a confidant, as did Mina. I was useful to him, as I knew more about the Count than anyone else. Van Helsing was the first to theorize that the Count had an actual biological daughter, not a progeny created through vampirism. This was unheard of, as vampire women are typically sterile. Olivia’s mother was never turned, however; she was a donor. The Count told me of how I reminded him of his late wife, a woman who chose not to be turned. A woman who loved him so much that she sacrificed herself to give him a child. She died in childbirth.”
“When it came my time to choose to become a vampire or simply stay a donor, part of the reason I chose to stay a donor was because of the love he had for his wife. He loved her so much because he knew she truly lived for him. If he stopped feeding from her she would have been forced to either age and die or to be unfaithful and seek help from another vampire. Had she chosen to be turned, she could have had complete autonomy.” Lucy looked a bit wistful. “Neither of them knew what to expect when she became pregnant. I’m sure if they had known she would die in childbirth that they would have chosen turning over death.”
Lucy smiled in a sad way. “Even still, I didn’t wish to be turned. He respected my wishes and eventually we parted ways. It was my fate not to marry him. But, I do still feel that being a donor is a calling for me; the years since have shown me that being a donor is part of my identity.”
Alex stared at her for a few minutes; it was unbelievable--all of it--yet she knew it was true. “You said something about the carriage house being mine to use. I think I need some time to think about what you’ve told me so far. Would you mind if I made myself at home there?”
Lucy grabbed a set of keys off the hook next to the kitchen door that led out into the courtyard. “Follow me.”
Chapter Five
The carriage house was cozy and decked out well. “You’re not the first one to stay here, although it has been awhile.” Lucy handed her the keys once they were inside.
“I have a spare key, but I will only use it for emergency situations. I promise to respect your privacy, as long as you respect mine.” She picked out a blue key on the keychain. “This is to the main house. You will be here for awhile, I suspect. You’ve got cable. If you feel up to eating something, let me know.”
Alex couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “I guess until I figure all of this out, I’m dependent on you, right down to what I eat.”
Lucy nodded. “I’ll allow you to feed from me. I’ve got a network of donor friends, too. I think you really should stay close to home for now, rather than going on the hunt on your own. We have a system worked out and you’ll soon train and learn how to hunt ethically and effectively. There’s a lot left to talk about, and I suspect if you watch the news, you’ll understand why I recommend you not let yourself be seen right now until we can give you a bit of a makeover.”
She left Alex on her own with a fresh pack of cigarettes and a fully stocked liquor cabinet, which Alex took advantage of immediately. She poured a couple of fingers of bourbon neat and hit the power button on the TV remote. Her plan was to let the TV be her company while she thought about what Lucy had told her. She was looking on the small bookshelf. The books would come in handy if she chose to believe Lucy’s story and stay.
A modern annotated copy of Dracula and a first edition, signed by both Stoker and Van Helsing, sat side-by-side on the shelf. She opened the first edition, breathing in the mustiness of the pages. Just as she traced Van Helsing’s signature with her finger, she realized they were talking about her on the mid-day news.
“. . .the brutal murder of a young graduate student, Alexandria James. Josh Peters reports.”
“Thanks, Joan. Last night, police were called to a house in the Marigny after a call regarding the slaying of Alexandria James. Police arrived on the scene to find one Wren Anderson and the deceased James. The other residents of the house, James Kirby and Elizabeth Camp, detained Anderson. Anderson has been taken into custody and is being held without bond. Police are not releasing much information at this time, but they do say the deceased knew Anderson and had a prior relationship with her. There is also talk that Anderson may be responsible for some other recent murders.”
She couldn’t watch more; she clicked off the television. Alex downed the bourbon and filled the rocks glass to the rim. She put the first edition back on the shelf and grabbed the annotated modern version. She suspected she’d get bourbon and ashes from her cigarettes on the book and she didn’t want to ruin a keepsake.
She spent the next few hours re-reading the novel and taking notes and writing down questions for Lucy. Shortly before five, she turned the TV on again in hopes of catching any updates, but the five o’clock news had little more information. She realized, too, that she had mainly wanted to see if they would say it again—that she was dead—or if it had just been her imagination.
She took a break from the novel and considered what Lucy told her earlier. She’d mentioned Olivia Holmwood. Alex remembered feeling strangely drawn to Olivia, but she’d not given much thought beyond it being a normal student-teacher crush. Olivia was so unlike the other professors in the department. Alex had simply attributed her fascination to Olivia’s attractiveness and uniqueness. While Alex respected the faculty in her program, they didn’t really turn her on as most of them were middle-aged white guys who were way too into their own research to pay attention to graduate students. Tim Clark had been different, and there were some exceptions among adjunct faculty like Mike Courtland, but most of the professors in the graduate program could definitely be described as stodgy or at the very least as self-absorbed.
Not Olivia, though. She came to UNO from some other school after Tim Clark died during Mardi Gras. Alex took her Reading the Vampire course mainly because she was signed up for Tim’s class and decided to stay with the schedule she had. Besides, she reasoned the course would be a fun one.
She’d been surprised at how much she enjoyed it. The course evolved into a research interest for her, once Olivia--Dr. Holmwood--hired her to do research into film representations of female vampires. Her research led to her arranging movie nights at The Ruby, the lesbian bar where her girlfriend Liz tended bar. The movies were a big hit with the patrons and showings led to more business for the bar.
When they’d read Dracula in class, Alex paid close attention to the few mentions of the “weird sisters.” Stoker spent little time on them. They were only briefly mentioned as temptation for Harker and later as sirens for Mina. She did remember the killing of the female vampires as the only kill scene where Van Helsing was alone, unaccompanied by any other hunters. She opened the annotated version up and reread the scene to be sure. The novel clearly eroticized the sleeping female vampires, and the hesitation in Van Helsing’s voice was clear:
“Then I braced myself again to my horrid task, and found by wrenching away tomb-tops one other of the sisters, the other dark one. I dared not pause to look on her as I had on her sister, lest once more I should begin to be enthrall; but I go on searching until, presently, I find in a high great tomb as if made to one much beloved that other fair sister which, like Jonathan I had seen to gather herself out of the atoms of the mist. She was so fair to look on, so radiantly beautiful, so exquisitely voluptuous, that the very instinct of man in me, which calls some of my sex to love and to protect one of hers, made my head whirl with new emotion.”
She read the passage multiple times; if Lucy was right and Dr
acula had a daughter, the special tomb and the power to enthrall certainly made sense. And Olivia was certainly beautiful to the point of enthralling.
She put the book down and thought back to the films she’d watched; many of them gave more attention to the three “weird sisters” but she couldn’t remember seeing any indication in any films that the women were related to Dracula. Most film representations focused on how they were likely his brides. A film she hadn’t watched before she was killed she had put in her cart on Amazon to purchase and show at The Ruby for movie night. Lucy had a laptop in the carriage house that she told Alex to use, and it didn’t take long for Alex to access her shopping cart. She hoped that she wouldn’t get in trouble for using the account; she reasoned that she and Liz shared it, so if anyone was curious about it being accessed, they would probably assume Liz was the one who logged in.
The 1936 film was titled Dracula’s Daughter. The plot picked up where the much better-known Bela Lugosi film left off--with Van Helsing having defeated Dracula. In this film, he faced murder charges. Alex was mesmerized by Gloria Holden’s performance as the Hungarian Countess Marya Zeleska. While she didn’t really look a lot like Olivia, she carried herself in much the same way and commanded attention. Alex watched as the Countess struggled with her desire to be free of her vampirism after her father’s death. When she was unsuccessful at freeing herself from the curse, she then embraced her darkness and tried to use it to manipulate her Psychiatrist, played by Otto Kruger. Her goal was to convince him to run away with her so they could live together forever. Like all good monster films from the period, though, good won out over evil and the Countess was slain at the end while Dr. Garth and his beloved assistant made it out safe and sound, presumably to live happily for a normal amount of time rather than for all of eternity.