Gabriel had briefly told me about our mother’s home during our time in Matford; I’d intended to visit when this was all over. I was always hungry for any information about her, and the comforting dream of her in the cellar had brought her memory to the forefront of my mind.
Every eye in the room was trained on me, some lingering on the bruises around my throat that hadn’t fully faded. My friends were worried about me. No one—including Abe—had yet asked for details about what happened to me in the cellar.
An undercurrent of fear did swirl through my gut at the thought of confronting another vampire so soon after my imprisonment by Skala.
“Mina, you don’t have to continue this fight. Not after what you have been through,” Gabriel said gently. “Now that we’ve made contact with members of the Order, we can coordinate to hide you away someplace safe until Bathory is dead.”
In the past, I would have angrily dismissed his offer, but with the memory of Skala’s torture fresh in my mind, it was tempting.
Even if I were to be spirited off to some safe place, Abe and my brother would continue the fight. I wouldn’t know peace while they were in danger.
Outside, I heard the sudden peal of a child’s laughter, and I recalled Skala’s words. We will destroy all light. The world will be ours.
“No,” I said, determination lacing my words as I thought of Skala’s promise. I would not allow Bathory to bring their plans to fruition. “I will continue to fight. I must.”
13
DARK PLACES
Early the next morning, I stood in the corner of the bedroom, watching as Abe packed my things for our departure. I wanted to pack my own things, but Abe insisted on doing it for me. I allowed him to fuss over me; it would likely continue for some time.
My mouth twitched with amusement as he awkwardly shoved one of my walking suits into my bag.
“You have to fold it,” I prodded. For someone so brilliant, he was making a simple task needlessly complicated.
“Ah,” he muttered, his cheeks flaming as he folded the suit and placed it into my bag.
Gabriel entered the room with a mug of hot tea. He pressed it into my hands, his concerned gaze searching my face. He and the others had been giving me the same looks throughout the duration of my recovery. Though I understood their worry, the looks were becoming a bit cumbersome. Nevertheless, I gave him a reassuring smile as I accepted the tea.
“Are you nervous?” Gabriel asked. “About seeing Mother’s childhood home?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “I'm sure I will feel some sadness…but I'm eager to see it. I want to know as much about her as I can.”
“It will be difficult for me,” Gabriel said. “It's why I've only been once. A part of me has never fully recovered from her loss; I suspect I never will."
I took in the grief that shaded his eyes with compassion. I hadn’t yet told him about the dreams I had of our mother during my imprisonment; how her words may have bought me time and saved my life.
Abe was now concentrating on packing two of my hats, so I took Gabriel’s hand and led him out of the room and into the adjacent one. I would eventually tell Abe all about my experience in Skala’s cellar, but for now I wanted to share the memories of my mother with her only other child.
“I saw our mother,” I said, once we were alone. “It was halfway between a dream and a memory. I believe her words saved my life.”
“What were they?” Gabriel whispered.
“Remember the stories she used to tell you as a child? The stories about monsters and dark fairy tales? She told them to me as well.”
“Yes,” Gabriel replied, smiling at the memory.
“In my dream, she told me they were more than just stories. They were lessons…ways of preparing us to fight vampires if it ever became necessary to do so. She told me that every monster has a weakness. I used Skala’s love for Ilona against him. That’s how I was able to attack him.”
Gabriel’s eyes went wide with amazement. He walked over to a desk that was situated in the corner of the room, perching on its edge.
“Of course…it makes sense. She would often make certain I committed her stories to memory.”
“Do you think she knew somehow?” I asked. “That we would one day fight vampires?”
“I don’t know,” Gabriel replied. “Mother was…intuitive. Perhaps deep down she knew it was inevitable.”
We stood silently for a moment, ruminating over what our mother may have intuited about our adult years. Gabriel broke the silence, urging me to eat breakfast before our journey.
When we arrived in the dining room, I was surprised to see Anara helping Rudella put together plates of muffins and cold meats for us. Anara handed Seward a plate, their gazes locking intimately as Seward nodded his thanks. Anara caught me watching them and looked away. I had to hide my amusement; they were not being nearly as subtle as they thought.
It was the first time I'd taken a meal with the others since my imprisonment; all meals during my recovery had taken place in my room. I enjoyed being in the company of my friends rather than in the guest room alone, trapped with my gruesome memories of Skala.
My appetite had returned, and as I ate heartily, I learned more about Rudella and Clovis. Rudella’s parents had both been members of the Order of the Dragon, killed by vampires during their civil war. Like my parents, they hadn’t wanted her to get involved with the war, and sent her abroad to Ireland to live with a relative for her safety before they died. When she heard of renewed vampire attacks on humans several years ago, she didn't want to turn her back on what was happening.
“I tracked down Clovis,” Rudella continued, smiling at the vampire who sat at her side. “He was a friend of my parents when they were in the Order. He wanted to honor my parent’s wishes and refused to allow me to fight—but I didn’t back down.”
“That sounds quite familiar,” Seward said, giving me a pointed look. I returned his grin; I admired Rudella’s determination.
“We have done what we can to eliminate ferals…but we didn’t know who was creating them or how to stop him. We were glad to receive Nikolaus’ message requesting our assistance.”
Rudella smiled at Nikolaus, who returned it. He turned his focus to us.
“We won’t be traveling with you to Paris,” he said. A rush of disappointment filled me at his words. We desperately needed more allies, especially now that we’d lost Szabina. “Rudella and Clovis will remain in Berlin to gather more members of the Order…they are now beginning to come forward. Kudret and I have begun communicating with other members throughout Europe via wire. They’ve been emboldened by your success in killing Dracula and Skala…we believe they are ready to join the fight. If we can gather them into a small army, it will make defeating Bathory more probable.”
My disappointment turned to relief. I glanced around the table at Abe and my friends. To my surprise, they looked both angry and irritated. I frowned, confused. This was what we'd craved since the beginning of our journey—allies.
"Their joining us would have been damned helpful before," Seward snapped. “The surviving members of the Order have remained in hiding while we've done all the dangerous work."
"You have to understand their fear," Rudella said. "They have seen their loved ones die before their eyes—killed in great numbers. And many have been fighting on their own."
"We have seen our loved ones die," Anara said shortly. I knew that she was thinking of both Radu and Szabina. "I once wanted to stay out of the war, but I now see that we have no choice. We have continued to fight despite our losses."
"I understand," Nikolaus said, evenly holding Anara's furious gaze. "We cannot change the past. Szabina was my dearest friend, her loss—" his voice shook, "shatters me. She would want us all to work together. If we can gather all the remnant members of the Order who are willing to fight, then we can defeat Bathory and her followers."
Though there was truth in his words, the tension lingered as we finished our meal
. Before we all left the house to go our separate ways, Nikolaus promised Anara he would continue to keep us updated about assistance from the Order via wire.
“Undertake your journey with caution. Bathory is far more powerful than Dracula or Skala,” Nikolaus urged, giving us a brief nod of farewell before departing with Kudret and the others.
“Nikolaus is right about the Order,” I told Abe, when we were in the back of a cab that made its way towards the train station. “This is what we wanted—the Order of the Dragon joining us to fight.”
“Where were they when we attacked Vlad’s fortress on our own? While you were being tortured by Skala?” Abe demanded, his expression stormy. “If they had joined us earlier, perhaps Arthur would still be alive. Or Radu…Szabina. Perhaps you never would have been captured by Skala. They have joined the fight when it is nearly over.”
Abe looked increasingly angry as he spoke. I somewhat understood his frustration—we had been on our own since the beginning. But I suspected his anger had more to do with my torture at Skala’s hands than anything else; I had no doubt that he blamed himself.
“Abe,” I whispered, taking his hands in mine and kissing his palms. “A wise man—I believe his name was Doctor Abraham Van Helsing—once told me it would not do to dwell on the past.”
Abe’s fury seemed to subside at my words. He smiled, leaning in to place a loving kiss on my lips.
When we arrived at the train station, Anara and Gabriel walked in tandem with me. Passersby cast me curious glances; they most likely thought I was an aristocrat or the daughter of some dignitary the way the vampires were hovering about. Before my imprisonment with Skala, I would have been irritated by their hovering, but now I felt protected by their proximity.
When the train hurtled away from Berlin towards Paris, I sat nestled in between Abe and Gabriel. My light mood had begun to fade, and like an ever-present shadow, images of my time with Skala once again flickered through my mind. His fangs stained with my blood. His eyes, wild and black as he lunged for my throat. His cold hands on my skin, casually breaking my bones.
“Mina,” Abe whispered, as I shivered at the memory. He had sensed what occupied my restless thoughts. “They are just thoughts. Do not allow them to carry you off to dark places.”
I nodded, but it was difficult to heed his words. He pulled me close and proceeded to distract me with stories. He told me of experiments he performed with Father, his own experiments, observations from his travels, amusing stories about his students. His words lulled me into such a state of comfort that I rested my head on his shoulder, drifting off to sleep.
When I awoke, both Abe and Gabriel were gone; the train was empty. Panicked, I stood up and looked around. I froze when I saw who stood at the far end of the empty train compartment.
It was Skala. He was crouched in an animalistic stance, one of his eyeballs now missing from its bleeding and empty socket, his bloodstained mouth open in a snarl.
Fear raced through my entire body, and I stumbled backward.
“No,” I whispered, barely able to breathe. “No…”
“Yes,” he calmly replied, and sprang towards me as I screamed.
“Mina!”
I came to as Abe shook me awake. I blinked, my breathing ragged and panicked. Gabriel was kneeling in front of me, his brows drawn together with worry, while Abe gripped my shoulders, appraising me with concern.
“You were having a nightmare. You are all right. We are here with you,” he said.
Other passengers were staring at me, and I flushed with embarrassment. I gave them a nod to indicate I was fine.
Gabriel sat back down next to me. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths as Abe pulled me close, stroking my hair. I feared that even in death, Skala would continue to torture me.
I was relieved when the train finally arrived in Paris. The crisp night air prickled my skin as I stepped out of the train, my arm linked with Abe’s. The carriage Anara had ordered was waiting for us, and we were soon being whisked down the wide boulevards of Paris, which were slick from a recent rainfall. The illumination from multiple gas lamps that dotted the streets cast ominous shadows of the few pedestrians we passed. The streets seemed quieter than usual, and unease crawled through my chest at the sight.
I had been to Paris before, accompanying Father and Abe to conferences. I’d spent some time exploring the multitude of shops, museums, and boulangeries, pungent with the fresh smell of baking bread. I’d even admired the Eiffel Tower with Abe, and though it was nightfall when we’d finally returned to our hotel, the streets still teemed with life.
Now, I exchanged a nervous glance with Abe. The streets of Paris usually bustled with humanity at night. The empty streets could very well be the work of Bathory’s follower Francois. Parisian humans may have been too frightened to wander the streets after dark.
Our carriage soon left the lights of the city behind. It made its way through the dark countryside, until it approached a sprawling country home. I studied it intently as we neared. This had been the home where my mother had spent her childhood. Here, she had been Isabel Ghyslaine, before she became Eva Murray, wife of Robert Murray, mother to Gabriel and then me.
After the carriage dropped us in front of the house, Abe and the others purposefully lingered behind while Gabriel and I approached.
It must have once been a grand home, with its stone facade, gabled roof, and multiple shuttered windows. But the exterior facade was now crumbling, the windows cracked with age and grime, and weeds grew untamed around the small winding staircase that led to a decrepit wooden front door.
Before we could even start up the steps, the door flew open. A woman stood there, blinking at me in astonishment. She was tall for a woman, with wide set brown eyes that seemed vaguely familiar, pronounced cheekbones, and a full mouth. Her curly brunette hair was gathered into a bun at the nape of her neck. This woman was vampire; I could tell by the coldness of her gaze.
Gabriel let out a protective snarl, shoving me behind him as the others rushed forward.
The vampire wasn’t at all alarmed by the threatening stances of my friends. Her astonished focus remained on me.
“My God,” she breathed. “You look exactly like her.”
Everyone froze. The vampire stepped out the front door and down the stairs, but Gabriel stepped forward with a warning growl.
“Stay where you are!”
The vampire stilled, her gaze finally straying from my face to Gabriel’s, and her hands flew to her mouth.
“Gabriel,” she whispered. “It is you. She told me you were beautiful.”
It was Gabriel’s turn to go still with surprise. The vampire pulled herself to her full height, a tentative smile tugging at her lips.
“You are Isabel's children. Wilhelmina and Gabriel,” she said. “Welcome home.”
14
EMMA
I sat perched on a settee in a sparsely furnished salon next to Gabriel, clutching a mug of tea in my hands. The vampire, who told us her name was Emma, sat opposite us, while Abe and the others hovered behind us.
Emma had informed Gabriel and me that she was a distant cousin of our mother’s. She had been close with her, especially when they were both children.
“We wrote each other letters over the years,” Emma continued. She spoke English well, though she had a trace of a French accent. “My family was never involved with the Order or the war amongst vampires—we kept to ourselves. I met you briefly when you were just a baby, Mina. I was introduced to you when you were still a boy, Gabriel— though I don’t expect you to remember me. During my last visit to England, Isabel and I had a row about her involvement with the Order. I thought she should stay in England with her children and husband, but she believed the world would never be safe with creatures like Vlad trying to wreak havoc on humanity. We did not speak after that, and I moved to America. Our row is the regret of my life. I was devastated when I learned of her death,” Emma said, her eyes glistening with tears. “Ye
t it made me even more determined to stay out of the conflict. I only left America because my beloved husband died,” she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. “My parents are dead as well…I thought my entire family was lost to me. I just arrived days ago…this house is one of the few connections I have to family. I intend to restore the house and settle here. It is too large for just me; I want to turn it into an inn—if it is all right with you both,” she added hastily. “The locals remembered me from years ago. They were the ones who let me in.”
“Are you like me?” Gabriel asked, disregarding her inquiry about the house. His gaze was intent on her face. “Were you born vampire? Or were you turned?”
“I am like you,” Emma replied. “My mother was vampire and my father human. My mother chose death after my father died of old age. Both my parents urged Isabel’s family to stay away from the Order and the vampire conflict…they seemed to know what was coming.”
I was silent, reeling from her words, though the existence of another vampire relative should have come as no surprise, now that I knew there was vampire ancestry in my family line.
“This is a lovely story,” Anara said. She’d been leaning against the wall as Emma spoke, studying her with suspicion. “How do we know you speak the truth?”
“Anara,” Seward said, but she ignored him, pushing herself away from the wall to stalk towards Emma.
“How do we know you’re not working for Skala or Bathory or any of the vampires on the other side of this war?” Anara demanded, stopping directly in front of Emma.
My first instinct was to stop Anara’s questioning of Emma, but I hesitated. Emma seemed genuine, but Rosalind had also seemed sincere.
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