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

by L. D. Goffigan

  “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 gal
loped 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 kno
w 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.