“You’re right, about not staying here. We should leave together. Maybe we should return to your home in Romania.”
Vladamir’s head snapped up. “Home? I have no home. No family—no friends—nothing!”
Heather released his hand and put her arms around him. “We’ll just have to build a new life somewhere else.”
“Life?” Vladamir shook his head. “There could be no life with me. My world exists in a child’s nightmare. I am a thing that lurks in the shadows, that mortals fear. I represent the unknown, dwelling in the dark. I am the opposite of all that is truly warm and wonderful. Life? No, there could be no life with me.”
“I don’t believe that,” Heather answered softly. “I see only good in you.”
Vladamir laughed tragically. “You see, and you understand nothing, my love.” He pulled away and turned his back on her. His head was bent, and his shoulders sagged. After a moment of silence, he said, “You should see me for what I truly am. . . .”
Vladamir turned his head. His eyes glowed bright red. He reluctantly opened his mouth to show her a set of sharp, white fangs. “How could you possibly love such a hideous creature?”
“Alone—frightened—perhaps,” Heather said softly. “But hideous? No, never. Not to me.”
Vladamir looked at her with wonder. Such a magnificent woman, he thought. Truly superior. He extended his arm, so they could hold hands. “Come to me, my love. Let all of mankind fall into ruin. Let those around us grow old and fade from human memory. Your beauty shall be eternal. Let us share our love for all of eternity.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Van Helsing was resting in his room at the Milford Boarding House, listening to Pachelbel’s Canon, when he heard a knock on the door. He slowly opened his tired old eyes. “Never a moment’s peace,” he grumbled, then yelled out, “Come in, damn it!” The door opened, and Detective Dixon and Major Ron Hieden stepped inside. “I’m sorry to bother you, Doctor,” Dixon began.
Van Helsing interrupted him. “Such a strange custom.”
“Sir?”
“Americans. You have a habit of apologizing for that which you do not feel the least bit sorry for.” Van Helsing glanced at the major. “You would be Heather’s husband, I take it?”
“You know the major?” Dixon asked.
“I’ve never had the pleasure. But I knew this woman was living with an army officer. It was only a matter of time before he presented himself.”
The major stepped closer. “I was hoping you could help me find my wife. Please, for God’s sake . . .”
“God? No!” Van Helsing closed his eyes again, wiggling his fingers to the music.
“You’re speaking in riddles, Dr. Van Helsing,” Dixon said abruptly.
“Am I?” Van Helsing took on a crafty expression. “God has nothing to do with any of this, and the major knows it. Correct, Major?”
Dixon turned to the major. “What is he talking about?”
Hieden shrugged. “I’ve told you everything I know.”
“Nonsense, Major.” Van Helsing held out his hands, index fingers swaying back and forth, as if he were conducting. “The major knows exactly what this woman is.”
“And what would that be, Doctor?” Dixon asked.
“A vampire!” Van Helsing appeared amused. “The major has known this from the beginning. He has been supplying her with the fresh blood she needs to exist.”
“Bull!” Hieden exclaimed. “I have no idea what this crazy old man is talking about.”
Van Helsing’s eyes popped open. “Bull? Bull?”
“He’s calling you a liar, Doctor,” Dixon explained, keeping his eyes on the major.
“American slang.” Van Helsing laughed under his breath. “A liar? No. And the major knows it.”
“What about it, Hieden?” Dixon studied the major. “Want to tell me about it?”
The major looked at Van Helsing. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t.” He winked. “I was—how would you say it in America? Oh, yes. I was playing a hunch.”
Major Hieden felt sick. He walked to Van Helsing’s kitchen table and sank into a wooden chair. He rubbed his forehead. “It’s true. She had amnesia. But as for her medical condition . . .”
Van Helsing stood up to glare at the major. “What he means, Detective, is that she was afflicted with a strange disease that required constant blood transfusions. The good major made a deal with the Nosferatu. All the blood she should ever require, in exchange for . . .”
“For what, Major?” Dixon demanded. “What did you get out of the deal?”
“Her love,” Hieden said softly. “That’s all I ever wanted. I’ve taken good care of her. That’s why she was at the mall the night she was attacked. She was picking up the blood I arranged for her to receive while I was away. The packages were sent to one of the shops. I served in the military with the owner. He’s innocent. He didn’t know what Alyssa was picking up from him once a week. I couldn’t chance having the packages sent to the house.”
“No, my sad friend.” Van Helsing sounded more sympathetic. “It wasn’t love, but dependency. You’ve enslaved her. That’s not true love. She belongs to another.”
“She belongs with me!” Hieden exclaimed. “I won’t give her up without a fight.”
“A fight?” Van Helsing laughed. “A fight you shall have, my sad friend. Dracula will battle you with his life and last breath, I assure you.”
“Wait a minute,” Dixon interrupted. “As far as I’m concerned, this changes everything. That poor guy, or thing, or whatever you call it, is only trying to be with his own wife. Hell, I’m not chasing him.”
“This changes nothing!” Van Helsing insisted. “Put sentiments aside, Detective. This isn’t a tale of ‘ star-crossed lovers.’ The vampire is a killer, and must be stopped!”
“Killer?” Dixon looked at Van Helsing with confusion. “A rapist? A drug dealer? That’s not murder, not in my book, Doctor.”
“You’re wrong, Detective. It is murder. We live in a civilized world, as civilized men. The vampire has no right to determine guilt or innocence. That is for the law to decide, a set of laws you yourself are supposed to represent. Nothing has changed. We will hunt this creature down and put an end to this once and for all.”
Van Helsing looked Dixon square in the eyes. “What else would you do?”
“Let him go,” Dixon answered. “Let him walk away.”
“Then what, Detective? Let him go to another city, where he will kill again? His existence depends on it. What then? He kills an innocent person? Suppose he becomes desperate? He now needs to hunt for two. Does he begin to kill at random? Are you prepared to take that risk? No, Detective. You are far too young to live with all that blood on your hands. Not if, but when, he kills again, you will be as responsible as if you committed murder yourself.”
Dixon turned from Van Helsing, nodded reluctantly agreement.
“Good,” Van Helsing said. “Now, we piece together this very complex puzzle, and get on with the task of finding the vampire. . . .
“First, we must assume Dracula knows the true identity of Heather. It is none other than his Alyssa. We also now know why he sought to make a deal with Dr. Steward, just as Alyssa endeavored to form a close bond with the major. But now Dracula knows he is no longer safe in Atlanta. His identity has been discovered. He will most certainly leave this place at once. We must find him quickly.”
Van Helsing turned to Ron Hieden. “Since Dracula has little knowledge of the city, we must assume Alyssa will guide him to a safe place until they make arrangements to leave. You know Alyssa best, Major. Where would she go?”
“Just about anywhere.” Hieden shrugged.
“There must be someplace she would consider safe? Think, man. Think hard.”
“Safe? I suppose she would go to a friend’s house. But she only has one friend she feels close to, and that’s Mina Steward. They’ve been friends for two years now.”
“She wouldn’t go there,” Di
xon said. “Not after what Dracula did to her husband.”
“I agree. That would be the last place she’d go.” Van Helsing turned back to Ron Hieden. “I ask you again, Major, where would she go?”
Major Hieden shook his head. “I just don’t know. She might go . . .”
“Go where?” Dixon asked.
“No. Sorry, no way. Not until we reach an agreement.”
Van Helsing studied the major. “What sort of agreement?”
“Do what you want to the Romanian. I’ll even help catch him. But Heather stays with me.”
“That’s impossible,” Van Helsing answered. “Out of the question.”
The major stared at Van Helsing defiantly. “That’s the deal . . . take it or leave it.”
“You don’t understand, Major . . . this woman doesn’t even exist. You’ve fallen in love with a ghost—a dark, empty specter from the past. She is a mirror image of a woman that lived once, but no more. Oh, you may keep her for a while, but sooner or later she would realize she is a slave to you. Alyssa would come to hate you, and you have no idea what she is capable of.”
Van Helsing and the major stared at each other, deadlocked. Dixon was about to side with Van Helsing when his cellular phone rang. He turned away from the two to take the call. His eyes widened. He snapped his fingers to catch Van Helsing’s attention.
“All right—good,” Dixon said into the cellular. “Good work. Don’t move in. Keep the building surrounded. But don’t do anything until I get there. Understood? No one goes inside until I arrive. Good. I’ll be there shortly.” Dixon flipped the cellular shut and slid the phone back into his jacket. “We got him!” he announced to Van Helsing.
“Dracula?” Van Helsing asked hopefully.
Dixon nodded. “Someone saw a suspicious light in the window of an abandoned factory. A patrol unit was dispatched, and the officers reported seeing a man matching the Romanian’s description. They’ve got the building surrounded. If you’ll excuse me . . .”
“Wait!” Van Helsing hobbled over to a coat rack to grab his jacket. “I’m coming with you, Detective. We only have a few hours of sunlight left. This has to be done right.”
“What about Heather?” the major asked.
“The officer saw a woman as well,” Dixon answered. “It has to be her.”
“Then I’m coming, too.”
“Sorry, Major. I’m going to have to ask you to stay here. I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as I can.”
“You’ll have to shoot me in the leg, Detective. I’m going, whether you like it or not.”
TWENTY-SIX
Dixon climbed out of his unmarked car and walked briskly to the sergeant standing outside of the abandoned warehouse on Jax Street. The building was surrounded by two dozen uniformed officers, positioned behind patrol cars, waiting to move in. Dixon ordered the duty sergeant to hold the officers back. “I’m going in alone,” Dixon said. “I’ve spoken with the suspect before. I’m certain I can talk him into surrendering.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding,” the sergeant replied. “Did you see the way he bounced a dozen cops around when he escaped?”
“It will be okay,” Dixon assured him. “Tell your men to turn on their spotlights and focus them at the windows. I want the entire basement flooded with lights.”
The sergeant balked. “In broad daylight?”
“It’s a long story.” Dixon patted him on the shoulder. “I know what I’m doing.”
“It’s your funeral, Detective.” The sergeant grabbed the microphone of his patrol unit’s radio to pass on Dixon’s orders. Dixon pulled his service pistol from its holster and ejected the 9mm’s clip to make sure it was fully loaded.
Dixon was handed a bulletproof vest. Dracula wouldn’t have a gun, but there might be some friendly fire. As he fastened the Velcro straps, he saw Van Helsing hobbling towards him. “I thought I told you to stay in the car! Do I have to cuff you, the way I did Hieden?”
“You’ll be safer with me. I know how to deal with this man.”
The duty sergeant looked at Van Helsing, eyebrows raised. “Oh, this just keeps getting better.”
Van Helsing showed the duty sergeant his credentials as a physician with the World Health Organization. “Your suspect is suffering from a horrible disease, Sergeant. It’s best not to jeopardize the health of you and your officers.”
The sergeant’s eyes widened. “Is he contagious?”
Van Helsing winked at Detective Dixon. “ Extremely contagious, Sergeant.”
“What about you two?” the sergeant asked. “Won’t you get sick?”
“We’ve been inoculated,” Dixon said.
“Yeah—right—maybe you and the doctor should handle this, Detective.”
Van Helsing patted the worried sergeant on the back. “Good thinking, Sergeant. We’ll keep you posted.”
Dixon handed Van Helsing a bulletproof vest, but the doctor only laughed. “Surely, you’re joking, Detective. How will this help against a vampire?”
“Vampire?” The sergeant looked at Van Helsing in shock. “Did you say vampire?”
“Did I say vampire? I meant to say virus.” Van Helsing tapped the side of his temple with his index finger. He smiled reassuringly. “You’ll have to forgive me, Sergeant. The mind isn’t as clear as it used to be.”
“What sort of a virus?”
“Have you heard of the Ebola virus?” Van Helsing asked.
“Isn’t that deadly?”
“Precisely, Sergeant. That is why you and your officers must remain outside. The detective and I can handle this man, I assure you.”
“I haven’t been inoculated,” the sergeant said. “Shouldn’t we be wearing masks or something?”
“Do you have a mask?”
The sergeant shook his head.
“Then stay back,” Van Helsing said. “You’ll be fine, if you stay away.”
Dixon took Van Helsing’s arm and pulled him away from the sergeant, toward the building. When they reached the back door, Dixon shouldered his way through a wooden door. They carefully stepped down a flight of rusting metal stairs. At the bottom, Dixon led the doctor down a long graffiti-covered corridor.
Finally they reached a large, open room, brightly illuminated by the spotlights outside. Dixon ordered the doctor to remain by the door. He pulled his service pistol from his holster and inched into the room.
In the farthest corner, he saw two figures huddled together. He cautiously moved nearer, until he could clearly identify the two figures kneeling on the floor, trying desperately to avoid the bright lights. He called out their names.
“Vladamir. Alyssa.”
The pair only huddled closer together, using a long black coat to shield them from the light.
Dixon repeated their names. Then he cocked the hammer on his 9mm and took aim at Vladamir’s heart. His index finger pressed the cold trigger. Sweat poured from his forehead. His stomach tightened.
“I can’t do it,” Dixon whispered. He carefully secured the cocked trigger, and lowered his pistol.
As Dixon turned away, he noticed a tiny red beam of light. Van Helsing aimed a laser-guided pistol at the detective. The tiny red dot was focused on his forehead, and from the look on the old doctor’s face, he could tell Van Helsing was serious.
“Forgive me, Detective,” Van Helsing said. “I knew you couldn’t do it. Please throw your gun across the room and stand aside.”
“You’d be killing a police officer, Doctor,” Dixon said, his voice steady and calm. “You’ll never get away with it.”
Van Helsing smiled pleasantly. “At my age, it wouldn’t matter. Please don’t make me shoot you. Throw your gun to the side and step away. Please.”
Dixon slid the 9mm across the dingy basement floor.
“Good. Now, put your hands in the air and kindly move aside.”
When the detective cleared the line of fire, Van Helsing redirected the red light at Vladamir. “On your feet, Dracula,” Van
Helsing ordered. “Stand and face me. I don’t wish to kill you on your knees.”
Vladamir whispered in Alyssa’s ear. “Forgive me for this, my love.”
She stared into his sad eyes. “Wait for me on the other side?”
He tenderly kissed her hand. “Yes,” he answered softly. “We shall leave this world together, and meet in a place where we may find peace at last.”
Alyssa ran her hand down his cheek, to feel his love one last time. Then she nodded, to let her dark Prince know she was ready.
“For Christ’s sake, Van Helsing, don’t!” Dixon yelled. “He saved your life once! Let them go!”
“It’s all right, Detective Dixon,” Vladamir said, slowly rising. He stared defiantly at Van Helsing. “You may take the flesh, but not the soul.” Vladamir ripped open his shirt to expose his chest.
Van Helsing squeezed the trigger. A single bullet struck Vladamir’s chest. When the echo of the gunshot cleared the air, Vladamir fell to the dirty floor.
Then Alyssa stood. Dixon tried to distract Van Helsing, but it was no use. A second shot cracked like a bolt of lightning, and Alyssa dropped beside Vladamir.
Dixon raced to the two lying dead on the floor. He dropped to his knees and checked Alyssa’s neck for a pulse. The empty look in her eyes told the detective it was no use. He closed her eyelids.
The detective turned angrily on Van Helsing. “You’re under arrest, Doctor . . . you murderer!”
“I don’t think so.” Van Helsing set his gun down on the floor, reached inside his jacket and pulled out a thick folded set of papers. “This is a court order, issued in cooperation with the World Health Organization, authorizing me to use deadly force, if need be. It also instructs the city of Atlanta to surrender the remains of these two into my custody.”
Dixon slowly walked over to the doctor and reluctantly took the papers. “What else have you got in there? A presidential pardon?”
Van Helsing ignored him, placing a call on his cellular-phone.
The conversation lasted less than half a minute. Van Helsing snapped the phone shut. He looked into the young detective’s eyes with a glimmer of sincerity. “Someday you will understand what happened here today, my young friend. You will realize why I had to do what I did. . . .”
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