The Mina Murray Series Bundle, A Dracula Retelling: Books 1-3

by L. D. Goffigan

  “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 themselve
s 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.”