The Elixir

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The Elixir Page 28

by George Willson


  “Another conception you will change before our time together is through,” Van Helsing said.

  “So what are we to do then?” Seward asked.

  “We wait for her,” Van Helsing said, closed the coffin and moved toward the door.

  “She will be back?”

  “I would wager so,” Van Helsing said. “The bloofer lady had struck close to this area, and as the crypt makes for a dry and safe place to stay, I would say she would likely stay there unless she had somewhere else to go.”

  “What do we do if we see her?”

  “Once we confirm she is here, we have to return with Arthur and perhaps, Mr. Stoker, in order to defeat her,” Van Helsing said, and upon seeing Seward’s surprise, he continued. “You have to understand, John, that she is no longer human. You noted that her temperature was too low to sustain life, but I maintain that it is simply life as you know it. What she has become is no longer human, and has little regard for human life. She has not killed yet, but as time goes on, people will die by her hands. She has become a monster at the hands of a monster, and we must free her from that curse.”

  “Why Arthur?” Seward asked. “Why must he endure this?”

  “Because he would not have us do anything to her without him,” Van Helsing said. “If it were simply me, I might be able to handle her, but the Fempiror Mutation is a very dangerous creature, and the more of us we have, the better we can handle it. More than that, however, the one who did this is out there, and I fear I will not be able to take care of him on my own. I need all of your confidences.”

  The pair settled down behind the tombstones watching the door of the mausoleum for the return of Lucy. Midnight came and went, and the graveyard remained silent to the point that Seward dozed. Van Helsing tapped his shoulder now and then to keep him awake.

  Shortly after Van Helsing had checked his timepiece at about 2am, a figure leapt over an exterior wall of the cemetery. The figure ran quickly toward the mausoleum carrying something.

  “Let’s go, John,” Van Helsing said. “Quickly.”

  Before Seward could move, Van Helsing was off at a run after the figure. She turned as he approached, and Van Helsing got a look at the frightened face of Lucy before she dropped her bundle. She ran to the mausoleum doors and entered the building, closing the doors behind her.

  Van Helsing picked up Lucy’s cargo as Seward ran up to him, panting.

  “How did you get here so fast?” Seward breathed.

  “I stay in fine shape, my friend,” Van Helsing shrugged. “Look at what we have here though.” Van Helsing revealed a frightened child whose neck was untouched by Lucy’s fangs. “I believe our presence saved this child’s life, or at least spared him some loss of blood.”

  “Was that her?” Seward asked.

  “I’m afraid so,” Van Helsing said. “I would not recommend going in after her at this time, however. Take the child for a moment. We will momentarily leave him somewhere that a policeman can find him. I don’t believe it would do to have to explain why we have possession of him, despite our innocence.”

  Seward nodded his agreement and took the child in his arms. The child maintained his frightened, fetal position and hardly moved. Van Helsing reached into his bag and retrieved some garlic bulbs. He stomped them into the ground in front of the doors as well as into the crack between the two doors. He finished his work by hanging a garlic wreath on the door knobs.

  “That should hopefully confuse her enough to keep her from leaving,” Van Helsing said.

  “What if someone should remove it,” Seward asked.

  “It is always a risk, but doing this is better than nothing,” Van Helsing shrugged. “Since no one is likely to remove it until the morning, it will keep her in tonight.”

  They left the cemetery and waited until they found a policeman walking his beat. They placed the child conspicuously in his path and waited until they could confirm that he found it. Although the policeman called out for whomever might have placed the child there, they left without a word. They parted company for the evening with a promise from Van Helsing to contact Seward by noon that day.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  David Taylor found living among the people of London to be exhausting. Because they only lived and worked during the daylight hours, he was forced to find some way of living among them to get what he needed without drawing unnecessary attention, such as a classic day travel cloak might. He preferred to go out during days when the sun was trapped behind the clouds though he kept a hat and gloves with him at all times to ensure he did not run into any problems.

  He was quite surprised on one day while he was in the market to see Jonathan Harker sitting at a café in London, but his joy at seeing that his former visitor had actually survived and made it back home changed to surprise at seeing that the young woman who accompanied him was the one from his photograph: his fiancée who looked exactly like Beth Carpenter. He felt momentarily frozen in wonder at seeing her face. Every line was as he remembered of his late love before she was taken away from him by a Tepish attack.

  He felt himself take a step toward them before he noticed that Harker had seen him, and he saw Harker’s face contorted in fear before he fainted dead away to the surprise of his companion. David felt it better to make a hasty retreat rather than attempt to speak with them. He knew that Mr. Harker’s memory of Transylvania could not have been pleasant based on how he acted while there, and given that the man just fainted dead away at seeing David, he suspected it would be far better to let the man get on with his life. David also knew that despite the young woman’s appearance, she was certainly not Beth. He would accomplish nothing by going over there except to drag up memories best left buried.

  That was two days ago. Since then, he had seen an article in the local paper indicating bite marks on children in the vicinity of Hampstead Heath, and though it was doubtful this bloofer lady was Karian, he had little doubt that the old man had changed someone into a Mutation who was now feeding on these children. As the sun had long since gone down, he was happy to be able to walk about in the night air without any concern of burning in the sunlight.

  After several hours of patrolling and avoiding the local policemen, he noticed a young woman with a child she had lead to a secluded area. He drew his sword and approached her, but before he could get close, she spun and stared at him briefly. It was long enough for David to recognize her as the girl who had seen him the night Karian had thrown him through the window into a bedroom hundreds of miles away. This girl was Karian’s victim there, and now, she was a Mutation. He succeeded. She snarled at him, revealing the canines that David knew so well, and then she curled the child in her arms and ran.

  David followed her closely, whipping back and forth from street to street, until they approached the brick wall surrounding Highgate Cemetery. He thought he would have her here, but without a pause in her step, she jumped clean over the wall. David prepared to follow her, but as he changed his footing for the jump, someone collided with him, throwing him to the ground.

  The momentum knocked the wind right out of him, and his sword clattered across the cobblestones away from him. He struggled to clear his vision from the sudden stop, and he could see the forms of two people standing over him. He attempted to sit up, but then, he felt a sword at his throat.

  “Don’t even move,” a female voice commanded.

  He held still, grateful that the person had not killed him yet, as vulnerable as he had unwittingly made himself. Footfalls moved across the pavement to his sword where it was picked up.

  “This is the last sword I ever expected to see again,” an old voice said in plain English with a hint of a Slavic accent as the footfalls moved toward him. “It belonged to an old and dear friend before it passed to a damned nuisance.” David closed his eyes in defeat as he recognized the voice.

  He opened them and saw the voice’s owner standing over him. It was a hard, chiseled face that had aged since David had seen it last. He knew
that the eyes hidden in shadows would be a deep blue in the light, and the white hair was well trimmed like an English gentleman. Even in the darkness, he could see the man was dressed in a tailored suit, a world away from the armor he used to wear.

  “I cannot say that I am pleased to see you, of all the Rastem in the world, here in London, David Taylor,” the man said.

  “Greetings, Vladimir,” David sighed. “May I be permitted to echo your sentiments?”

  “I do not find that unreasonable,” Vladimir said. “One cannot say we are on the best of terms, despite the time that has passed. Everyone in your order believes you are dead, and yet, here I find you on this little island alive and well. What brings you to England?”

  “I’m afraid we have a mutual problem,” David smiled. “If you’ll permit me to assume a more dignified position.”

  Vladimir nodded to the two people holding David down, and David quickly jumped to his feet. He looked at the other three people around Vladimir.

  “Are you alone,” Vladimir asked, “or am I to find myself surrounded by Rastem?”

  “I am not aware of any other Rastem here,” David said. “I am working alone.”

  “Well, then, allow me to introduce my staff,” Vladimir said nonchalantly. “The pair who so skillfully took you down are William and Karen. They’re a lovely couple whose wedding present was eternal life while William was in London during the cotton famine. They’re from Lancashire, I believe, but found working for me far more lucrative than anything else they could find locally.

  “My number two, here, is Lorinkis, who has been with me almost since you ran me out of Transylvania, oh, how long has it been? Seventy years, I suppose.”

  “You found someone whose name means thunderstorm in Felletterusk?” David asked in disbelief.

  “So you did actually learn our language, did you?” Vladimir laughed. “Well, I must say I’m impressed. No, his name wasn’t thunderstorm when I changed him. I just liked his attitude. His name was Jaques LeChambre, I believe, wasn’t it?”

  Lorinkis nodded to confirm it.

  “You see?” Vladimir said proudly. “A new name for a new station. Finally, we have Adelaide Bartlett and George Dyson bringing up the rear who have a fascinating story of their own that I don’t care to tell you at all if you don’t know it.” Voices near them snapped Vladimir from his speech. “We should go. We’ll talk on the way back.”

  William and Karen walked up behind David, and David looked to Vladimir. “I take it I’m coming along then?”

  “Yes, and may I add that your English is quite excellent,” Vladimir said.

  “Thank you,” David replied.

  “You were going to tell me of our mutual problem,” Vladimir said as they walked away from Highgate Cemetery followed by Vladimir’s entourage. David decided he would have to come back to investigate this further. “Allow me to guess, if you will.

  “This bloofer lady is a Mutation. That much seemed suspicious to me, and now that I find you here, I can almost certainly confirm it. The question is how a Mutation came up in England. They could not have walked here, nor would they have swum, so they would have had to have taken a boat, but why would a Mutation travel on a boat? Now you turn up, so I have to wonder if you brought a Mutation with you. Yet, despite your history of gross irresponsibility, I have to assume you’re smart enough not to do that on purpose. This would mean that a Mutation decided to risk his life to follow you for some reason. Given that it is nigh impossible to anger a Mutation since they generally don’t have feelings of any kind, I would guess you angered a Mutation with feelings and feelings would imply intelligence and intelligence would imply...”

  Vladimir sighed and shook his head with a chuckle. “You decided to try and outwit Karian, didn’t you? Of all the people in the world, you faced off against him. Am I right?”

  David nodded.

  “This means our mutual problem is Karian.”

  David nodded.

  “But that would mean he followed you to England. Why did you come here?”

  “I’m merely trying to stop Karian from making a mess of this island,” David said.

  “Don’t play games with me,” Vladimir said. “I have a great deal of patience, but I would ask you not to try it.”

  “I came to England to escape the Mutations,” David said. “I figured I would be safe on an island.”

  “And in classic David Taylor fashion, you managed to bring the problem with you,” Vladimir deadpanned. “Brilliant. Everywhere I go, I am dogged by either Rastem or Mutations, and now, as I am finally settling into a life I can live, I am forced to deal with both. David, you have always been trouble, and trouble follows you wherever you go.”

  “This is why I left the Rastem,” David said.

  “You left them?” Vladimir asked.

  “The death of my brother was too much tragedy for me,” David said. “I could not do that to anyone else.”

  Vladimir laughed. “How could one forget your dear brother, and the town that betrayed him?”

  “What are you going to do with me then?” David asked. Vladimir looked around and stopped.

  “We are far too reasonable to simply kill you out of principle,” Vladimir explained. “Part of me would like to, but you see, you’ve never really been a threat to me. A nuisance, yes. A threat, no. If Karian is in England, then I would wager you find him far more dangerous than either of us would find each other.”

  “Once I handle Karian, I will be obligated to track down any Tepish in England,” David warned.

  “Oh yes, the tired old Rastem code,” Vladimir laughed. “The irritating need to interrupt the lives of quiet people to tell them how wrong they are and to bring them over to the ‘right’ side.” Vladimir stood close enough to look down on David, as Vladimir was still several inches taller.

  “You are welcome to try, young one,” Vladimir warned, “but you’ll find we are not as easy to hunt as we once were. We’re a different sort of people now. We understand that wars are not fought on battlefields with the sword, but with words and actions directed at the foundations of society. I know you’ll want to remove us from whatever power you think we have, but we both know it isn’t the time. You have a Mutation to catch, and I’m inclined to let you do it.

  “Karian won’t last long in the wet English weather, but we both know how smart he is. He’ll find a way. Release him.” Vladimir gave David back his sword and walked away, flanked closely by the other Fempiror who never said a word.

  David wanted to attack him now, but he knew better. Karian was more important, and it appeared that Vladimir was not going anywhere. He could not let Vladimir know about Voivode, however, as Vladimir’s hatred against the Fempiror creator was legendary, and he knew that if Vladimir were to find out about Voivode living in Purfleet, the old man would be in grave danger. He had to return to the Abbey to check on things there and ensure that Voivode would have an escape route should Vladimir find him. He knew Vladimir was not a fool, and it would only be a matter of time before he managed to piece together what brought David to England.

  David took the longest route home that he could. He continually checked behind him to see if Vladimir had sent one of his people to follow him, but he never saw anyone. As he closed in on the Abbey, he noted a man at its front door. Voivode clearly refused to answer as they had agreed when they moved in here, but it was odd that anyone should call on them at this late hour. David considered whether he should question this visitor, but if this person happened to work for Vladimir, David’s questioning would reveal where he lived, so he felt better to wait for the person to leave on his own.

  As the caller departed, David tried to see his face through the darkness, but it was no use. The person walked down the road away from the Abbey, and with a final look around him to see if he might be followed, David finally risked the walk home. He entered through the main gate as their caller did, but passed around to the back of the main building to enter as he and Voivode agr
eed they would rather than use the front door.

  “Voivode,” David called out. He passed into the living area to find Voivode walking down the stairs.

  “Is everything all right?” Voivode asked. “There was a knock at the door, but given the hour…”

  “Yes, it is best you didn’t answer,” David said. “As for everything, it is not all right. I told you about finding Karian out in Whitby. Well, it has just gotten worse. Not only did I find that he changed the girl I saw in the house that night, but the Tepish are also here in London.”

  “The Tepish?” Voivode asked. “Ones you knew?”

  “It’s Vladimir,” David said, and Voivode immediately looked concerned. David had filled in Voivode on the many events of his life among the Fempiror including Vladimir’s significant role and his feelings about Voivode.

  “Do you believe our visitor was a Tepish?” Voivode asked, but David shrugged.

  “The Tepish I saw tonight were dressed like anyone else in London,” David said. “They have foregone the decorative black armor with the red bat and prefer now to blend in with their environment. They still carried swords, but other than that, you would not know them from anyone else. Our caller was not specifically any of them, but I’m not saying he couldn’t be of their order.”

  “Do you believe we’re in danger?” Voivode asked.

  “Not yet,” David said, “but I believe Vladimir will only leave me alone until I take care of Karian. He knows I’ll make Karian my priority because he’s more dangerous than the Tepish.”

  “But I know that because you’re aware of the Tepish presence, you won’t rest until they’re handled as well,” Voivode said. “And I have to wonder if this is a sense of duty, or if you’re happy to be doing something more than caring for a foolish old man.”

  “You’ve had your share of trouble,” David said, “but in England, I didn’t expect to find so much of it.”

 

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