“What does he want your help with?”
Jonathan was still not looking at me, instead staring straight ahead at the dance floor.
I clenched my hands in my lap. What would he think of me if I told him of vampires? How could I possibly explain what had happened in Transylvania, when I could hardly understand it myself? He would think I was mad. I would lose him, and I could not lose him. I had suffered more than enough loss for a lifetime.
“It’s difficult to explain,” I stammered. Once again, I reached for his hand. To my relief, he didn’t pull away. “Please, Jonathan. All of that is in the past. I won’t be seeing him again. Let’s try to enjoy the rest of our—”
“There is so much you haven’t told me. We are to be wed, yet you keep so much of yourself hidden from me,” Jonathan spat, finally turning to look at me, his hazel eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and anger. “I imagine your former fiancé knows more about you than I ever have,” he added coldly.
“That’s not true,” I protested. Other guests were surreptitiously looking our way now. I drew a breath to calm myself, lowering my voice. “I prefer to leave my past behind me because it’s painful . . . and it’s no longer of any importance.”
Jonathan got to his feet, forcing me to release my hand from his. When he looked down at me, his eyes were no longer filled with anger, only sadness.
“Have Stanley escort you back to Highgate. I’ll take a cab.”
“Jonathan, no. Let me come with you,” I pleaded, stumbling to my feet.
Jonathan had already turned on his heel to disappear into the swirling crowds of the ballroom. Desperate, I hurried after him, his name on my lips, when the ballroom suddenly plunged into darkness.
All around me, the guests’ startled gasps and cries filled the ballroom. I halted, temporarily disoriented as my eyes adjusted to the sudden dark. I was certain that the lights would come back on shortly, but something felt wrong.
Dim moonlight filtered in through the windows, providing only faint illumination. I could now vaguely make out several tall figures moving through the disconcerted crowd. As I stood frozen to the spot, I felt a coldness on my skin—the same coldness I had felt at the cemetery when I’d sensed being watched.
I watched in horrified silence as the figures, who I could now tell were three men and one woman, moved through the ballroom so quickly that they seemed to vanish into thin air and reappear in a different place.
Dread stirred in the pit of my stomach as I recalled the words of the villagers in Transylvania. The strigoi vanish and reappear. They move quickly. The darkness makes them strong.
“No,” I whispered.
It was impossible. It could not be.
I lurched forward, panic scorching through my veins like wildfire as I began to shove my way through the guests, who were all stumbling towards the exit. I felt the same instinct that struck me in the cemetery—to flee. I needed to find Jonathan and get as far away from the Langham as possible.
But as soon as I had the thought, the screams began.
6
The Vanishing
Screams reverberated throughout the ballroom. All pretense of propriety cast aside, the guests around me pushed and shoved each other to get to the exit.
Panicked, I continued to force my way through the thick sea of bodies, searching desperately for any sign of Jonathan. I prayed that he had already left, but I was halfway across the ballroom when I spotted him on the far opposite side, next to one of the windows. He was standing stock still, staring in rapt attention at an unnaturally tall man and woman who stood opposite him.
“Jonathan!” I shouted. My cry echoed throughout the ballroom, louder than any of the screams that punctuated the chaos. Jonathan remained rooted to the spot, his focus centered on the two people before him. They both went still at my cry, turning to look at me.
I felt that familiar coldness settle over me as their gazes locked with mine. The man looked like an alabaster statue come to life, with hair as black as night, a long pale face, thin lips and full brows. The woman was as light as her companion dark, with a stark beauty that was almost unnatural. A curtain of long blonde waves framed her exquisitely carved features, and her vivid green eyes seemed to glow in the dim light.
Though I was certain I had never seen the man before, there was something oddly familiar about him, and I thought I saw a brief glimpse of recognition flare in his black eyes as they settled on me. They both turned back to face Jonathan, who still stood motionless, as if he were in a trance. Their lips moved as they spoke to him in low tones, and my body went rigid with shock when I saw . . . fangs. Fangs protruding from their rows of angular teeth.
I had seen such fangs before, on the creature that hovered over Father’s body that night, sharpened fangs that seemed to glint in the moonlight. I had convinced myself that it was a trick of the light; I had not seen them clearly, I had been in terrible shock—anything to explain away what I’d actually seen.
But standing here now, I could not deny the sight of them. And I knew with a sudden and terrifying certainty that they were creatures I had refused to believe existed . . . did not want to believe existed.
The intruders were vampires.
The creature we encountered in Transylvania. I believe it is here in London, Abe had whispered, only moments before.
Fear propelled me out of my shocked stillness, and I stumbled forward, my heart pounding so powerfully that it seemed to rattle my bones. I didn’t know why they were here, I just had to get Jonathan away from them.
As I shoved through the crowd, I saw the vampires step closer to my transfixed fiancé, almost seeming to wrap themselves around him, until he was hidden from my view.
“JONATHAN!” I screamed.
I was now only ten yards away from them, but it seemed as if there were a vast ocean between us, and the fleeing guests continued to impede my forward progress.
The male vampire turned to give me a look that gleamed with challenge, and I watched with dazed horror as the vampires and Jonathan vanished before my eyes. The space where they’d just stood was now empty.
I froze, unable to believe what I had just seen. The vanishing was another echo of that gruesome night in Transylvania. I scanned the area near the window and the entire ballroom for any sign of Jonathan and the vampires as the guests around me continued to scramble out of the emptying ballroom. In the chaos, no one else seemed to notice Jonathan and the vampires’ disappearance.
The ballroom lights flickered back on, flooding the room with glaring light. I stumbled forward, reaching the spot where Jonathan had just stood. I whirled, searching the ballroom for any sign of him, but only a few stupefied guests remained.
I turned to search the streets outside the window, now dense with a heavy fog. Amidst the cluster of carriages in front of the Langham, I noticed two distinct black landau carriages—larger and finer in appearance than even the most grandiose upper-class London carriage—made of wrought iron and edged with gold trim.
The fog partially cleared, and I saw that velvet curtains were drawn over the glass windows of both carriages, but the left door of one was slightly open. Jonathan sat inside with several other women I did not recognize, looking dazed and out of sorts.
I felt a burst of hope at the sight of him. As if sensing my gaze, Jonathan looked up and met my eyes, blinking in disorientation. Before I could cry out to him, some invisible force slammed the door shut, and both carriages sped away.
“Mina!”
I turned and saw Abe hurrying towards me, his face pale with relief. Shaking, I stepped forward to grip his shoulders.
“Jonathan’s been abducted—he’s in a carriage that just left. Do you have a horse?”
I was thankful that he didn’t question me. He grabbed my hand, leading me towards the rear exit of the ballroom.
“I took a cab here, but there are horses in the stable yard at the back,” he said. “Come.”
We broke into a run, dashing through t
he now empty ballroom towards the exit. Though a multitude of panicked questions raced through my mind over what I’d just witnessed, I kept them at bay. I needed to focus on getting Jonathan back while there was still time; my questions could be answered later.
In the rear of the Langham, we found unattended horses tethered in the stable yard. Their masters had no doubt heard the ruckus and ran inside to see what was happening.
We untethered two horses and mounted them to race out of the stable yard.
“It was two landau carriages—they went down Regent Street!” I shouted to Abe, gripping the reigns of my horse.
As we rode away from the Langham and towards Regent Street, the crisp night air pricked at my skin, and the damp wispy fog swirled around us like thin ghostly fingers. At this late hour, there weren’t many carriages out, and the distinctive black carriage that had taken Jonathan away was nowhere in sight. We were silent as we raced down the fog-encased street towards Whitehall, and it was only the sound of my thundering heartbeat, our horses’ hooves pounding on the ground, and the murmur of voices from startled passersby that accompanied us.
Abe rode at my side, his eyes trained on the street ahead. The rigid set of his shoulders was the only indication of his tension. My knuckles were white from gripping the reigns in my trembling hands, and a haze of panic clouded my mind. I could only hope we were going in the right direction.
Regent Street soon turned into Whitehall, and hope seared my chest as I spotted the distinct black carriages only fifty yards ahead, clamoring forward at a great speed.
“There they are!” I cried, kicking the sides of my horse to urge him into a faster gallop, and I soon left Abe behind.
I’m right behind you, Jonathan, I thought desperately, keeping my eyes trained on the carriages as I sped forward.
The carriages turned onto Westminster Bridge, and I followed suit. The gothic spires of Westminster rose from the fog that surrounded the bridge, a silent spectator to my chase. I was getting closer to the carriages now, swiftly closing the gap between us.
But just as the carriages reached the midway point of the bridge, they were swallowed up by an even thicker fog that seemed to rise up out of nowhere, as if it had been conjured, and I could no longer make them out.
I stilled with horror as a deeply rich male voice rose from the silence, wrapping around me in a dark whisper.
“Ghyslaine . . . what you have tried to destroy will be made whole once more.”
I halted at the strange words, pulling back on the reigns. My horse reared back in surprise, neighing in protest and nearly throwing me from the saddle. I managed to maintain my grip on the reigns as I looked around in despair. The voice had seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, yet I was completely alone on the bridge. As the thick fog dissipated, the two black carriages were nowhere to be seen.
They had vanished . . . along with Jonathan.
* * *
“There were four of them, I believe. And the carriages appeared aristocratic. They didn’t look like the others that were gathered,” I said, desperate.
I was back in the ballroom of the Langham, standing opposite an incredulous looking inspector from Scotland Yard. When Abe had caught up to me on Westminster Bridge, I was staring off in a numb daze at the foggy horizon where the carriage had vanished, and I had not protested when he told me that we should return to the Langham.
We made our way back in silence, the night’s events swirling about in my mind. The vampires seeming to wrap themselves around Jonathan, the male vampire’s cold gaze on me in the darkness, the black carriages vanishing in the fog, the whispered voice on the bridge. I hadn’t told Abe about the voice I heard on the bridge. I wasn’t even sure it had been a voice, or if I’d gone temporarily mad from all that had occurred.
When we arrived back at the Langham, the guests who remained had spilled out onto the streets outside of the hotel, murmuring heatedly amongst themselves. Curious onlookers now surrounded the building, clogging the narrow streets. Several Scotland Yard inspectors and police officers had arrived, and were taking formal reports and interviewing witnesses about the electrical outage and the chaos that followed. After we returned our horses to their incensed masters with hasty apologies, we approached one of the inspectors.
I was now trying to explain what had happened to Jonathan, careful to omit the less believable parts of my story. But the inspector still studied me with abject disbelief, his eyes periodically straying to Abe, as if for verification. But Abe remained oddly and infuriatingly silent.
“You are saying these carriages headed across Westminster Bridge,” the inspector said.
“Yes,” I said. “I–I couldn’t keep track of them once they crossed. But they may still be in London, if—”
“There are, at any time in London, thousands of carriages on the street, Miss Murray,” the inspector said. “None of the waiting carriage drivers saw anything out of the ordinary.”
“Well, I saw something out of the ordinary,” I snapped, blinking back tears of frustration. “And now my fiancé is missing. What are you—”
“Miss Murray, you are being hysterical. There was a malfunction with the electricity and many were separated in the chaos. We are currently conducting a search for guests who are unaccounted for, including your fiancé. If we do not locate Mister Harker—”
“You won’t locate him, because he’s been taken!” I cried. I turned to Abe. “Abe, please. Tell him.”
“Mina,” Abe said gently, addressing me but giving the inspector an apologetic smile. “It has been a long night. It will not help Jonathan at all if you drive yourself mad with worry. Now, I am certain that he is at a nearby tavern. Let me escort you home. Thank you for your time, Inspector.”
I glared at him in angry disbelief as the inspector tipped his hat, giving me a condescending smile before walking away.
“Why did you do that?” I asked in furious disbelief. “You were practically mute. You saw everything that happened tonight. You were the one who—”
“He was not going to believe you no matter what you said. I needed you to see that for yourself. We cannot rely on the authorities. Jack is the only policeman who will believe you.” He studied me intently before lowering his voice. “Am I correct in my assumption that you do accept what we are dealing with?”
He did not need to say the word ‘vampire’ for me to know what he was referring to. I closed my eyes, thinking of the incredulity in the inspector’s eyes as I told him what happened to Jonathan. It was as familiar to me as the incredulity in the eyes of the authorities in Transylvania when I’d desperately tried to explain how Father died. I could only imagine what he would have said if I told him all that I’d actually seen tonight.
Abe was right. We could not rely on the authorities. We were on our own. Perhaps a part of me had known all along that Abe was right about vampires existing and being here in London. I had desperately wanted it not to be true, for it would force me to accept other horrible truths. But it was like a veil had been lifted, and I could not deny what I had seen tonight, nor in that forest in Transylvania three years ago. Not anymore.
A sudden wave of determination pulled me from the horrified daze I’d been in since watching Jonathan vanish before my eyes. I would not lose him as I had lost my father, nor envelop myself in denial as I’d done for the last three years. I would do whatever it took to save him.
When I opened my eyes, I said, “I’m going after Jonathan. I must.”
“Then you need to come with me,” Abe said, not at all surprised by my statement as he extended his hand. “Let me help you. I believe I have a way of finding out where he is.”
I took Abe’s hand, and together we hurried out of the ballroom.
7
Lucy
Heavy sheets of rain fell from the sky as Abe and I raced past the fleeing villagers towards the forest that lay at the village’s edge. Gripping my kukri, I scanned the trees around us as we entered the forest, shouting
for my father.
I froze when I heard an agonized cry from the depths of the forest ahead. It was his voice. I had never heard such a sound from him.
No, I thought in agony. No.
We dashed forward, the muddy forest floor slowing our progress. I continued to search our surroundings for any sign of my father, my voice raw with trepidation as I continued to shout for him.
And then . . . I saw it. I stopped in my tracks, a tidal wave of horror rising in my stomach at the sight before me.
In a clearing yards ahead, there was a figure hunched over the prostrated form of my father. At this distance, and from the way the figure was crouched, I could not tell whether it was man or beast.
I started to scramble forward, but a sudden paralysis settled over me, and I could not move. At my side, Abe was frozen in place as well. I struggled to release myself from the mysterious paralysis that held me, but its force was too great.
The figure turned and in the darkness and rain, I could only make out a flash of unnaturally long and sharp teeth and the feel of a frosty stare on my skin.
With an unnatural hiss, the creature vanished, and I was free of the paralysis. I rushed forward, filled with panic and dread, Father’s name on my lips in a desperate cry.
I stumbled to my knees when I reached his still form. A pool of blood drenched the mud around his body, and his lifeless eyes, forever frozen wide, stared at me from what remained of his face. An agonized moan swelled from some place deep, and it emerged from my lips in a grief stricken scream.
“Mina?”
I blinked, forced out of the dark memory by Abe’s voice. I was seated next to Abe in the back of a cab, and he was looking at me with a worried frown.
The Beast of London: Book 1 of the Mina Murray series Page 5