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

by L. D. Goffigan

  “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 onl
y 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.