Lord of the Vampires (22 page)

But stored neatly inside a cubby-hole were three telegrams, sent from A. Van Helsing, Purfleet, England, to Frau Helga Koehler, Amsterdam. The first was dated 8 July, the second 16 July, the third 4 August.

And all of them from Purfleet.
Purfleet
. Where Elisabeth and I went every morning to check on Vlads arrival!

I would have sat down on the floor and quietly laughedhere I had come all this way to find someone back in London!had the chilling realisation not come: Dr. Van Helsing was mortal, but he still was a force to be reckoned with. For he had somehow discovered Vlads new location.

How could I be sure he had not also discovered mine?

I skimmed through them all, for they were blessedly written in German, with which I have intimate acquaintance. They all thanked Frau Koehler for her reports on his mothers condition, and volunteered the information that Mrs. Van Helsing is unfortunately still the same. The most recent one stated that he would have to remain in Purfleet awhile longer, but that the Frau should notify him at once should she judge Mary to be dying.

Mrs. Van Helsing;
the phrase filled me with trepidation, though I did not immediately understand or remember. Had there been a Mrs. Van Helsing? I had come to this house twenty years before, to take sweet little Jan with me and to steal Brams brother away

Of course, of course. There had been a woman; a timid, large-eyed mousy little thing. I had bitten but not killed her, as she had been an obstacle in my way. She had one of those forgettable Dutch names that began with a
G
, that strongly aspirated sound like the Hebrew
ch
, repeated twice in the name van Gogh.

For some reason, it had not even occurred to me that she was still alive. But the revelation that she wasand that she was in England with Van Helsingfilled me with horror.

What if he were using his wife to get information about me? For vampire and victim are linked together so long as both survive; and so this wild-eyed woman was linked to me, even though her personality was so timid, so cringing, that over the years I had become blithely unaware of her. I, who had been such an idiot that I had not thought to turn the tables and get information about
him
.

I have corrected my oversight.

Through all this, I had been listening to footfalls and terrible screams overhead, and Frau Koehlers soft, comforting murmurs. The screams had ceased, followed by the sound of pouring water. I slipped out of the study, and waited at the bottom of the stairs again until the nurse appeared.

She did not invite me up, but came down the stairs to stand beside me; perspiration shone on her forehead and upper lip. She raised her apron to her face and wiped it.

I think she will sleep now, she said in a low voice. She is very tired; she has had a very difficult day so far. Will you be back soon, Mrs. Windham?

I shook my head, eager to leave this sad house, and troubled by what Mary had told me. No. Its time for me to leave. I have my own family to take care of; and I have already given her my good-bye.

Her broad, square face grew genuinely sad. I am sorry you must leave after such a short visit, madam. I can see Mary loves you very much, and you her.

I turned away before she saw my tears, and she led me back to the front entrance. When she opened the door, I paused and faced her, then lightly touched my fingers to her cheek.

As Id hoped, she met my gaze, and fell at once into trance. You will remember none of this, I told her. Not me, not my name, not my appearance, and if Mary speaks of it, you will take her to be delirious. Most important, you will not, so long as you live, mention this to Dr. Van Helsing.

Of course not, she said, and I smiled, breaking the fell.

Thank you, Frau Koehler. I kissed her on the cheek as I would a sister.

Godspeed, Mrs. Windham.

* * *

Now I am on the boat home, where Ive found myself a secluded spot down below (it is a beautiful day and everyone is taking sun up on the deck). Here, I let myself go deep into trance and found my connexion with Mrs. Van Helsing. The threads tying us are rather weak, though with practice they will strengthen. This is what I saw, only moments ago:

A small, plain room with white walls, a window with black iron bars marring the view of a flower garden below. Over the window, a small gold crucifix.

Behind me, the sound of a door opening; a mans soft, deep voice calling: Gerda, dearest

Gerda, yes! That was her name.

The view swings one hundred eighty degrees; I now find myself looking at an older man with white speckling his golden hair and thick eyebrows, and a smile meant to mask the worry in his blue eyes. He has not recently shaved, and the sunlight pouring in through the window catches the silver hairs on his chin and ignites them. There is such an air of heaviness about him, as if he were like Atlas, bearing the worlds weight upon his shoulders. At the same time, there is an air of goodness, too, reflected in his eyes and the simple, rounded features on his face.

There is something familiar here, something disturbing: I look at him and think of my dead brother, though they look nothing physically alike. I know this man, but for an instant, I am stymied, for he is almost a quarter-century older than the last time we met, and the years and tragedy have aged him.

Bram
, Gerda thinks, but the deep sorrow within her holds her tongue so that she cannot speakand I at once remember. This kindly older man is my nemesis, Van Helsing, the murderer of my little Jan, who would still be beside me today had Van Helsing not killed my immortal adopted child.

So. Van Helsing is with Gerdain an asylum, I think; how else to explain the bars? And at that very moment, he begins to ask her questions:

What do you see now?

Im not sure. I see water, a great deal of green water and disappearing behind me, a coastline with tiny windm

I pull her up short before she can utter the word
windmills
, although damage has already been done. He will know now that I have gone to Amsterdambut damned if he will know when or if I have returned to London.

He asks other questions, but she remains steadfastly silent, until he surrenders and leaves.

When I emerged from the connexion, I wrote this all down at once, lest I forget any detail. I will tejl Elisabeth about the fact that Van Helsing is in Purfleet, somewhere near Vlad. She will be angry enough at the wasted time-so I must never tell her about my terrible error in forgetting about Gerda; she will never forgive me.

And if we fail, I will never forgive myself.

At the same time, I am deeply troubled. Whenever I think of Mary, it is as though my icy heart is gently warmed by a small internal flamea flame she has rekindied; and I remember what it is to feel human compassion, human love. Shall I kill her only son?

Enough! Enough! Such thoughts are too dangerous. I
will have
my revenge

Chapter 10

Zsuzsanna Draculs Diary

20 AUGUST.

No further clues from Gerda about Bram Van Helsing; I suspect she said or did something which alerted him to my interference, and he in turn has performed some powerful magic to prevent my repeating it. We have been going through the city bit by bit, looking for an iron-barred window that looks down onto a flower garden, and we did find two possibilities, including a madhouse adjacent to Carfaxbut no Van Helsing, no wife. Is it possible that he is adept enough to make them both invisible?

It is my own fault that I could be so disgracefully outdone by a mere mortal; Vlad taught me only the most cursory exercises in mesmerism, invisibility, and self-protection, but I never pressed him for more information. (I know now he would not have given it even if asked, but there were times when I could have got hold of some very enlightening ancient tomes, and did not.) I honestly had no interest in such boring things now comes the time for regret.

Elisabeths welcome was sweeter than Id expected it would be when I returned from Amsterdam; I never confessed to her about Gerda, but lied and said I had bitten Mary and learned that the good doctor is actually somewhere near London. This surprised and pleased her, and we spent some agreeable hours together over the following days. Yet as generous as her mood was, she seemed to grow somewhat haggard and irritable. I thought it was out of frustration over our vain search for Van Helsing, and that she was struggling to hide it out of concern for me. Now I know better; she was dissembling for my sake, all right not out of kindness, but out of a wish to deceive.

Tonight I am beginning to see just how much she has kept from me. And what she
has
told me: are those, too, all lies?

It began mid-morning. We had been going mad awaiting Vlads arrival, but today I had an overwhelming hunch that
this
was to be the day. So Elisabeth and I at once hurried to Carfax. (What a vision she was, dressed in palest pink and cream satin, her long curls pinned up beneath a matching cap; it was as if she had intentionally made herself more beautiful in an attempt to extinguish my anger and doubt.)

Safely cloaked in our invisibility, we stood a distance from the dismal old house, beneath a copse of large, gloomy oaksElisabeth would go no fartherand watched workmen deliver the same wooden boxes I had seen the
tsigani
load onto their wagons and carry away. Fifty boxes in alland one unquestionably containing Vlad! I recognised it by the enveloping elliptical glow midnight-blue speckled with gold, like a starlit sky, larger than any aura I had ever seen him cast (mind that my abilities in this regard have always been less than remarkable).

I know Elisabeth saw it, too, for she gasped aloudthen caught my arm and hissed into my ear, We must leave at once!

Confused, I turned to frown at herand my confusion increased at the poorly masked fear upon her face. What do you mean, leave? He has arrived; it is day Now is the time. When the workmen are gone, we must go in and destroy him!

Then you will go alone. Can you not see how powerful he has become? She gestured at the glowing box, her expression and posturewith one impatiently tapping cream slipperrevealing intense anxiety. She turned and began to move away, but I grasped her arm and held it.

Youre afraid of him, I marvelled. You who claim to be unconquerable, you who swear that you avoided confronting him only because you wish to relish your little cat-and-mouse game You are afraid. Can it be that
he
is now the cat, and
you
the mouse?

Let me
got
She surrendered all pretense then, and uttered a Hungarian epithet as she swung at me with a pink-and-cream-striped arm. I have never seen her features so grotesquely contorted with anger; in an instant, she was transformed from porcelain doll to Medusa. Dont be a foolif we argue, he will sense us. Zsuzsanna, you have no idea what danger youre putting us in!

I would have said more, would have asked,
And are you afraid, too, of Van Helsing, whom you refuse to kill? Is he, too, the stronger
? She broke free from my grip, and transformed herself directly into a golden butterfly that sailed away upon the late summer breeze.

I controlled my anger and rode upon the sunbeams, but I did not follow her back in the direction of the house in London. Instead, I left Carfax estate and made my way into Purfleet proper, where, beneath the cloak of invisibility, I slipped into a silversmiths shop and made off with a shining dagger and long-handled sword.

Then it was back to Carfax, for my fury at Elisabeths deceit made me ever the more determined to destroy Vlad, and to destroy him at once. Why else had we been waiting all these weeks? I would show
her
what true courage meant, and then, having destroyed him, would leave her to her vanity, her decadence, her vile dungeon waiting silently for its first victim. As for myself, I needed neither the protection of man or woman, nor their love; the two I had dared love had both betrayed me, and I would never again permit myself so to suffer. Perhaps I should go to Vienna, or Paris

When I arrived, the workmen were still hard at their task. The anger wavered only once as I waited beneath the dying oaks, when I reflected that perhaps I had been hasty in thinking that Vlads belief that no vampire could ever destroy another in traditional fashion, with stake and knife, was simply another of his mediaeval superstitions. What if it was true?

Then I shall leave and bring a mortal to do the task
, I told myself. I would not be swayed, nor would I permit myself to believe I was in as terrible a danger as Elisabeth insisted.

The workers (a small group of lower-class cockney blokes, as they would call themselves) took the boxes in through the front entrance, at a maddeningly slow pace, one box at a time. This, with several pauses for bawdy jokes, conversation, and laughter, left me so impatient for the hour and a half it took them to finish that I was tempted to appear to them in my most ferocious fang-toothed guise and send the lot of them running.

The sun was straight overhead when finally they left mid-day, which realisation cheered me, as this was the hour Vlad was weakest. Even so, I took care to strengthen the veil of invisibility around myself and my silver weapons before entering, and with them slipped through the crack in the weathered front door, which the blokes had relocked.

Inside, the floor was carpeted with a layer of dust inches thick (how like Vlad!), leaving the workmens every step visible. Making no footprints myself, I followed the trail through the corridor, until it ended at an arching oaken door bound with iron.

There was a sizable gap between the doors base and the dust-padded floor, as well as between its arched top and the curving lintel. One might expect to see rays of sunshine streaming through, illuminating errant airborne dust; but in place of brightness shone that ominous and sparkling indigo aura, darkness which was not an absence of light, but an equal and opposite force that could displace it.