A Vampire Christmas Carol (22 page)

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Authors: Sarah Gray

BOOK: A Vampire Christmas Carol
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“Mr. Scrooge,” the man said. Shock followed recognition. He offered his hand, but not without suspicion in his eyes.
“Yes,” said Scrooge jovially. “Ha ha. That is my name, and I fear it may not be pleasant to you. Allow me to ask your pardon. And will you have the goodness to allow me to make a donation of . . .” Here, Scrooge whispered in his ear.
“Lord bless me,” cried the gentleman, as if his breath were taken away. He looked Scrooge right in the eyes. “My dear Mr. Scrooge, are you serious?”
“If you please,” said Scrooge with a grin, for it felt quite grand, really, to offer such a sum. And the words slipped so easily from his lips, as if he had spent his entire life dwelling in generosity. “Not a farthing less. A great many back payments are included in it, I assure you. Will you do me that favor? Please say you will.”
“My dear sir,” said the other, shaking hands with him. “I don’t know what to say to such munificence. I don’t know what to do.”
“Don’t say or do anything, please,” retorted Scrooge, pumping his hand again. He leaned close. “Most of all, please don’t drag me into the alley and sink your fangs into me and drink my blood, for I’ve a busy day planned.” He laughed.
The man did not see the humor of Scrooge’s comment, but, instead, seemed rather horrified. “Mr. Scrooge, I am not a vampire,” he said with such repulsion that Scrooge quite believed him.
“Well, good for you, because if you were, I might have to take that walking stick from you and pierce your heart! And I’ve absolutely no idea how to do such a thing, and I fear I’d make a mess of it.” He gave another merry laugh. “Now, come and see me in my office, and we will talk. I have some thoughts on keeping some of those men and women out of the poorhouse and getting rid of some of these vampires at the same time. It just makes good business sense, you know, to give good men and women work and rid the city of pestilence at the same time. Will you come and see me?”
“I will,” cried the old gentleman. And it was clear he meant to do it.
“Thank you,” said Scrooge as he walked away, tipping his hat again and again. “I am much obliged to you. I thank you fifty times. A hundred. Bless you.”
He went to church, and then made his way to a white house with a roof of three gables and an old arched door. He had passed here only the night before, but had seen it in an entirely different light then. Now it was a haven, not just for those who fought for the cause, but he hoped for himself. He prayed the invitation extended for so many years was still open.
43
S
crooge screwed up his nerve with only a little hesitation and knocked. Behind the door, he heard a woman’s footsteps, light and full of . . . hope, he thought, and his heart swelled with possibilities. Then the door opened and there she was.
“Ebenezer,” she said in obvious shock. She wore a dress with a small domed skirt that had not been fashionable in a very long time (women’s skirts had grown bigger over the years!), but the blue of the faded bodice matched her eyes most exquisitely, and he took note that unlike the hair on his own pate (what was left of it), she was not in the least bit gray. Hadn’t she been gray at the temples only last night?
But it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t have cared if she were an old woman bent over a cane.
“Belle,” he said, her name tasting as sweet on his lips as fresh strawberries in the springtime. Though it had been many years, perhaps decades, since he had sampled fresh strawberries in the spring, even though they had once been his most favorite. The vampires? Were they responsible? Did Queen Griselda even control what fruit he put into his mouth? If they had, they were in for a terrible shock, the evil beasties, for he’d eat strawberries by the basket, fresh and sweet, and sparkling with morning dew and heaped all over with Devonshire cream and the best white sugar whenever they were in season.
“Ebenezer . . . you’re here.” The frown lines on her forehead smoothed, and she appeared to grow younger before his very eyes until she nearly seemed the girl of twenty he had once known. “The ghost of Jacob came to see you, didn’t he? He did it,” she managed, tears springing in her eyes. “I hoped. I prayed, but I did not even know if it was possible.”
“Jacob did come to me as a ghost—and many others—and to you I owe my thanks. He told me it was you who sent him, so I owe you my life, Belle. I don’t know how you managed it. How you or Jacob or any of the spirits—”
“Spirits?” she asked, her eyes growing wide. “You see spirits, Ebenezer?”
He smiled, his own eyes welling up. “I’ve so much to tell you, but first I must beg your forgiveness. “ He took her hand and she let him, and he kissed it once, twice, and then again. Her skin was as smooth as he remembered. “Please forgive me for the foolish, unseeing, uncaring man I have been.”
“Ebenezer, there is no need for you to—”
“No, there is need. I must say it. I must make amends with you and so many others, before I can start my work fighting the vampires that I know you have been fighting all these years. But I must start with you,” he said firmly. He still held her hand.
“What you must
start
with is breakfast,” she told him, giving him quite a saucy look. “That’s why you came, isn’t it? To break your fast on this fine Christmas Day?”
Her smile was infectious. “Yes . . . yes, I suppose I did. But I must make my apologies, and I have so much to tell you, Belle. The spirits, they showed me so many things I did not know.”
A man appeared over her shoulder. “Is everything all right here, Belle?”
It was the same man Scrooge recognized from his visit here the night before with the Ghost of Christmas Present. It was the man with the limp. The man whose little girl’s name was Alice.
“Everything is fine, John.”
“How is that delightful little girl of yours?” inquired Scrooge. “Such a pretty girl.” He looked to Belle. “Such a pretty child, and so sweet. So well-behaved a child I do not believe I have ever seen!”
“I’m sorry, sir. But do I know you?” asked the man called John, his gaze narrowing suspiciously. (And why shouldn’t he be suspicious, considering all he had been through as of late?)
“John, this is my old friend Ebenezer. Ebenezer, John,” she introduced. “We tend not to use last names,” she explained to Scrooge. “It’s safer this way.”
Scrooge was itching to ask the whys of such a statement. He had so many questions about the Vampire Slayers Union and its members and was quite eager to join them as a member, giving whatever aid he could, financial and otherwise, but he knew he must be patient and gain their trust, first. So instead of asking questions, he thrust out his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you firsthand, sir, for we have not actually met. I only know of you,” he explained. “I am an admirer of yours. You are quite well known in slayer circles, I do believe.”
John looked at Belle questioningly as he accepted the hand-shake, but she only smiled. “Come now, gentlemen. Inside with you both.”
John left them on the doorstep, but Scrooge remained where he was. “I have so much to tell you, Belle. I want to be a part of your life again. I want your cause to be my cause.” He suddenly felt shy as he looked down on her, wondering if there could be any possibility a man like him could have a woman like her. “I want you to give me another chance.
Us
another chance.”
“Oh, Ebenezer!” She threw her arms around him. “I cannot tell you how many times I dreamed of this moment. Now, come inside and join me and my guests, and we will talk later. There are many at my table this morning, but there is always room for another.”
Belle grasped a handful of her skirt in each hand and turned. “Come along, Ebenezer, or the sausages will grow cold and the porridge gluey.”
Her order left him with no choice but to follow, and gleefully he did so.
44
H
ours later, Scrooge set out with Belle on his arm and they walked about the streets, and watched the people hurrying to and fro. He was so enthralled by the people around him that he patted children on the head, questioned beggars, and looked down into the kitchens of houses, and up to the windows, and found that everything could yield him pleasure. He had never dreamed that any walk—that anything—could give him so much happiness. And what made him happiest of all was having Belle at his side again after all these years.
“I cannot believe you’re here,” Scrooge said to Belle as he nodded to this man and that woman on the street.
“But I’ve always lived in London,” she teased, looking quite striking in an old blue bonnet. (Scrooge had wanted to buy her a new dress and coat and bonnet today, but she had insisted there would be time for that another day. Besides, with so many in need, she was not certain she wanted a new bonnet. Imagine that, reader! A woman who doesn’t want a new bonnet. Of course, that made Scrooge all the more eager to buy her one.)
“You know what I mean.” Scrooge flipped a beggar a coin. Realizing his sack was nearly empty, he wondered if they would have to return to his house and grab another bag from beneath the loose brick on the hearth in his bedchamber. Who would have believed that he could find such joy by sharing the silver that had lain so long in darkness, for he had never felt so free or rich as he did today. “I mean I cannot believe that you are willing, after the things I have done, to you and to others, to walk with me in public. Are you not afraid?”
“Whatever of?” she asked, smoothing the sleeve of his greatcoat.
“Of the vampires,” he said, lowering his voice. They passed an old woman leaning against a door to catch her breath and he pressed a coin into her palm.
“God bless ye!” she called after him, staring in disbelief at the money she now held. “Merry Christmas!”
“And a merry Christmas to you,” Scrooge threw over his shoulder. “Are you not afraid the vampire king and queen will come after me, seeing that I am a changed man, and try to sway me, perhaps harming you?”
“I’m not afraid, Ebenezer,” she said, looking into his eyes. “They draw much of their strength from the humans who deny their existence. They were able to control so much around you because you could not see it. And we are protected.”
“Protected?” he questioned.
“I . . . Because of my ability to see and communicate with spirits, I possess a certain strength against the vampires.” She laid her cheek upon his sleeve. “And now that you allow me, I can protect you.”
“Will . . . will this protection allow me to fight the vampires?”
She laughed, music in his ears. “I think you need a few lessons in the proper use of a pike from your clerk first, and there will still be danger for you, but if you continue to walk in the light you walk in today, I have faith you will live a long life, Ebenezer, and give aid to many people.”
“With you at my side.”
“With me at your side,” she agreed.
They walked another half block, giving out several more pennies before he spoke again. “You spoke of lessons from my clerk.” He looked down at her. “You meant Cratchit, not Disgut, did you not?”
“I meant Bob, yes.” She looked away, smiling at a woman leading two rosy-cheeked children by the hands.
“You know Bob Cratchit?”
Again the smile. “Quite well. He’s an active member of the local VS union and a fine man.” Her pretty smile turned into a frown. “It was a very sad thing when his wife was killed. She died protecting her children.”
Scrooge also felt a sadness, not because he had known Mrs. Cratchit as Belle had, but a sadness for his lack of proper response when Cratchit had lost his wife and a sadness for the sorry man he’d been to be so unfeeling.
“You know,” Belle said. “Lucius Disgut is a very bad man. A dangerous man. The VSU has been keeping track of him for some time. He is protected by the king and queen.”
“And me inadvertently,” he put in.
“Now, now, that cannot be helped. You must move forward and not look back. Looking back will only allow the vampires to move closer to you again, to control you again.”
“I’ve so much to learn,” Scrooge said.
“But I will help you,” she insisted, smiling again.
“But I will have you.” He glanced at the door off the street which was their intended destination. “And here we are.” He hesitated. “What if he does not welcome me?” Scrooge asked. “What if it is too late?”
“It’s not too late,” she murmured.
Scrooge knocked and the door was quickly answered. “Is your master at home, my dear?” said Scrooge to the girl with nutmeg brown eyes. Nice girl. Very nice, indeed. No sign whatsoever of vampire control. On the walk here Belle had given Scrooge some lessons on how to spot a vampire, one of their minions, or someone who had been somewhat manipulated by the vampires. This girl was not one of them; her skin was bright pink, no fangs, no smears of blood on her face, and she looked well-fed, by her employer, probably. He could catch glimpses of her rosy throat, and it was not wrapped all about and covered to hide the fang marks; indeed, it was a lovely neck and a lovely head on top of it, an altogether merry girl of good spirit. The vampires, Belle had explained, tended to prey upon those in the greatest need.
“Yes, sir, he is at home,” said the girl.
“Where is he, my love?” asked Scrooge.
“He’s in the dining room, sir, along with mistress. I’ll show you upstairs, if you please. Let me take your coats and hats.”
Scrooge helped Belle with her cloak and bonnet, then removed his own outer garments and handed the whole pile to the petite maidservant. “Do you need help?” he asked, quite afraid he had overburdened her.
She laughed, peeking over the high pile of woolens, one blue ribbon of Belle’s bonnet tickling her nose. “No, sir. Thank you, sir. I can show you the way.” She staggered forward.
“That won’t be necessary,” said Scrooge, with his hand already on the dining-room lock. “He knows us. We’ll go in ourselves, my dear.”
Offering his arm to Belle again, he turned the doorknob gently, and sidled his face in, round the door. They were looking at the table (which was spread out in great array), for these young housekeepers were always nervous on such points, and like to see that everything is right.
“Fred,” said Scrooge, surprised by the nervous gurgle he felt in his stomach. What if his nephew turned him away? What if, after all these years, the young man, his brave sister’s son, had had enough abuse? What would Scrooge do then? He did not even want to consider the matter.
He stepped into the dining room.
Dear heart alive, how his niece, Penny, started! Scrooge had forgotten, for the moment, about her sitting in the corner with the footstool, or he wouldn’t have done it, on any account.
“Why bless my soul,” cried Fred, in obvious and genuine shock. He rose from his chair at the head of the table. “Who’s that?” he cried, though he most certainly knew who it was.
“It’s I. Your Uncle Scrooge. I have come to spend the afternoon with you. Will you let me in, Fred? I have brought my betrothed, with whom I believe you are well acquainted. Better acquainted right now, I might say, than I. I hope you don’t mind my taking the liberty of bringing her with me, but the truth is, I could not stand to leave her . . . and I thought perhaps you would show an old fool a little kindness if I hid behind a pretty woman.”
“Your betrothed?” squealed Penny in a most delightfully feminine manner. “You are betrothed, Belle? To Uncle Ebenezer?” Her tone of voice suggested “why ever would you agree to such a thing?” but the smile on Belle’s face seemed to sway her.
“Then congratulations! Come, tell us all about it.” The two women, hand in hand, walked away to join the other female guests and giggle.
It was a mercy Fred didn’t shake his arm off. Scrooge was feeling at home and feeling like a true member of the family in five minutes. Nothing could have been heartier. His niece looked just the same. So did Topper. So did the plump sister. So did everyone.
“Uncle Ebenezer, I cannot believe it’s you.” Fred finally let go of Scrooge’s hand, then reached out and gave it another four or five shakes. “And what is this talk of your betrothal?” He glanced at Belle, surrounded by the other women.
Though Belle was older than the female guests present by nearly an entire generation, Scrooge thought she was the prettiest one there. Even prettier than his pretty niece, but of course he kept that to himself.
“I know you must wonder what has brought me here with this smile upon my lips and this woman at my side,” Scrooge told his nephew, drawing him to a corner to have some measure of privacy before they joined the merry-making.
“I wonder,” said Fred, grasping his uncle’s shoulders. “But it’s not necessary that you tell me. I’m happy that you’ve come and that you’re a changed man.” He looked into his eyes. “And you are a changed man, aren’t you, Uncle? I can see it on your face.”
“That I am. I apologize for my behavior all these years. It is no excuse, but it appears I have been under others’ influence for many years. Many years,” he repeated.
“Others’ influence?” The party around the dining table was beginning to break up and the guests were moving to the parlor, but Fred’s attention remained on his uncle. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Vampires, dear Fred.” Scrooge feared his nephew might scoff, or think him making excuses, but it was important to him that he be entirely honest. “I fear . . . no, I am certain that vampires have been swaying me since a very early age. It is a long story, which I promise to share with you in entirety, but it’s Christmas Day.” He grinned. “And we should join your guests. There will be time for talk tomorrow and the day after, and the day after that, I do hope.”
“Well said. I just still cannot believe you’re here.” Fred shook Scrooge’s hand, stepped back, stepped forward and embraced him, and stepped back yet again. “We’re going to play games. Would you like to join us?”
“I hoped we would not miss the games!” Scrooge said with enthusiasm.
“Excellent.” Fred clasped his hands. “But be forewarned; Belle is very good.”
“I would like to play, particularly that game Yes and No.”
“You know it, do you?” Fred asked. “Excellent. But I can promise you Belle shall beat us all at that one.” He hesitated. “You say you’re engaged to be married? Just like that? Might I ask?”
Scrooge snapped his fingers. Enjoying the sound it made so greatly, he did it again. “Just like that.”
“And when will you wed?”
“As soon as she will have me,” Scrooge declared, unable to wipe the foolish grin from his face. He still could not believe that Belle loved him. That she had waited all these years for him. That she had kept faith in him long after he had lost faith in himself. “Do not look so surprised. It has been a rather long engagement.” He chuckled, and Fred chuckled with him.
“Well, congratulations. I am glad you have come to your senses. A wife is a wonderful gift that every man should experience. If you hurry, there’s even still time for children, Uncle.” Fred winked.
“Children?” Scrooge felt his cheeks grow warm as he remembered, for the first time, the prophecy Queen Griselda had spoken of. Surely it was not possible . . . not at their age . . . was it? He looked to Fred, but his nephew only grinned.
“After you.” Fred held open the door.
“Delighted.” Scrooge started through the doorway, intent upon the sound of the merry-making in the next room, but then halted. “On thing, before it slips from my mind in the midst of the fun. I’d like you to do me one favor. Tomorrow morning, early. It’s imperative that we move quickly.”
“Anything,” said Fred.
Scrooge lowered his voice so that Belle and the other women could not hear, because he did not want to worry them or, worse, frighten them. Fred listened to his uncle, offered comment, and the two men after five minutes of talk shook on their agreement.
“Fred? Uncle Ebenezer? Are you coming?” sang Penny.
“Come along, Ebenezer,” called Belle. “You and Fred will have time to talk vampire business later. It’s Christmas Day, and I do not want to even think of them!”
Scrooge entered the parlor and went to stand behind his Belle, who was seated on the same settee he had seen the previous night when escorted by the Ghost of Christmas Present. The Christmas tree, heavily laden with gifts for the children in the city whose parents were uprooted slayers, stood just where it had before, in a place of honor in the big window. “What a beautiful tree. What a magnificent tree! Might I go with you later, nephew, when you deliver the playthings?”
Fred looked at him oddly. “Of . . . of course you may.” He glanced at Belle as if to ask how his uncle knew where the toys were bound, then back at Scrooge. “Anyone is welcome, so long as you understand we cannot divulge to anyone where the safe houses lie.”
“I would never divulge such information.” Scrooge drew his finger across his sealed lips. “Never.”

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