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

by L. D. Goffigan

  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.