VROLOK (58 page)

Polidori came home to his apartments and was startled to see Lord Ruthven sitting in the corner. Polidori shuddered when he saw him and he knew his time had come. Vlad threw a published edition of his story at him.

“You didn’t remember your oath.”

“I didn’t.” Polidori replied.

“Then you realise that I have come for you.”

“I do.”

“Was it worth it?” Vlad asked.

“Yes, it was. It was worth it to see the look on Byron’s face as I relayed a story that was far superior to anything he had ever thought of.” Vlad sped towards Polidori and bit down hard into his neck. Polidori’s life was over, but his story of “The Vampyre” would live on.

Stoker was still sitting in the chair in the Library as Isabella finished her tale.

“That is unbelievable,” he said.

“You still need more proof,” Isabella said.

“Your story is unbelievable. Even with the things I have seen today I believe my mind is playing tricks on me.”

Isabella snatched a letter opener and plunged it down deep into her arm. Stoker tried to grab the knife away from her. But Isabella pulled it from her arm before Stoker could get to it. She held up her arm and Bram watched in terror as the wound healed instantly before his eyes; not even a scar was left on her white skin.

“Do you believe now?” Isabella asked.

“I do, I definitely do, do not injure yourself anymore.” Stoker looked around the library to see if anyone else had seen the miraculous thing he had just witnessed, but to his surprise no one was looking over at them. Every one was doing exactly what they had been before Isabella stabbed her arm. They still had their eyes buried in the books or they were still looking through the shelves, none of them looking over towards Isabella.

“I don’t want them to see me,” Isabella said. “And the people I choose not to see me don’t, it’s as simple as that.” Stoker remembered the story of Polidori and he now became frightened.

“Are you going to make me promise you never to tell?”

“No quite the contrary, I want you to tell a story—Vlad’s story.”

“Why?”

“He was a great man and then he was a great Vampire. He deserves what was taken away from him. He deserves his immortality.” Isabella handed him the documents, the diaries and the journals. “Here, you can make a story from these, a great story.”

“What about you? Can I say anything about you?”

“You will forget me.”

“I think you are wrong. I will never forget you.”

Isabella laughed. “I have told you, you will forget me. Do you not realise when I want someone to do something they do it?” Stoker started to leaf through the pages of the documents Isabella had given him. Isabella got up to leave.

“Wait a minute. What about these people in this book—they are probably still alive?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about them.” Isabella’s voice seemed quite sinister when she issued these words. Bram Stoker watched as she left the library. But by the time she got to the door of the room Stoker had already forgotten her name, and by the time she got outside the library, Stoker had forgotten what sort of creature she was and he started to believe he was the one who had written the papers on the table before him.

TRULY THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS FINALITY 

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

After months of attending galas, receptions, opening nights at the opera and many other trivial gatherings at the homes of social drones of London, it finally happened: Mina and Jonathon Harker, Vlad’s killers, were at a reception which Nicolae and Isabella attended. Isabella immediately recognised Mina, she sensed her as soon as she came through the door.

“The Harkers are here,” Isabella whispered to Nicolae.

“After all this time, how do you know it is them?”

“Jonathan, I have seen them before and some of Vlad’s blood still flows dormant in Mina’s veins; it is up to us to awaken it again.”

“Shall we make our introductions then?”

“Absolutely.” Nicolae pushed out his arm for Isabella to take and they both started to make their way to the entrance of the room, where Mina was taking off her coat. Another man was behind her. He started to help her with her coat. The sight and essence of this other man immediately halted Isabella’s motion and she was frozen to the spot.

“Stop,” she whispered to Nicolae.

“What is it?” Nicolae asked. Isabella was showing signs of consternation and pressing her fingers into Nicolae’s arm. If he had been alive she would have been cutting off his circulation.

“The young man behind her.”

“What about him?”

“Can’t you sense it?”

“No. I can’t feel anything.”

“He is a Dhampir!”

“How is that possible?”

“I don’t know; you have to leave here. I have to do this alone.”

“Isabella, do not start this again; I am staying here with you.”

“I can’t guarantee you will live through this.”

“You never could. I am staying here with you till the end, Isabella.”

“But….”

“Isabella, this may be our only opportunity to get close to them.”

“All right, but never let him touch you.”

“What possible harm can he do me, simply by touching…?”

“Never Nicolae, I mean it, never let him touch you.”

“All right.”

Nicolae dragged Isabella the next few steps. She was within moments of beginning the completion of the task she had set herself. Isabella realised Nicolae was right, she needed him. She regained her composure, clasped Nicolae‘s arm tightly and made the final few steps towards them. By this time the Harkers had entered the room and were starting to fraternise with the other guests. Mina was talking to Cicely, the hostess of this particular gathering. Isabella had made it her business to befriend this woman, as she knew everything about everyone and was very keen to let everyone know she knew everything about everyone.

Cicely took pleasure in introducing people she knew to ones whom they did not know. For those brief few moments during introductions Cicely, who could never feel superior to anyone intellectually, felt superior to everyone superficially. It did not take but a moment for Isabella to catch Cicely’s eye.

“Ah, Isabella,” Cicely turned back towards Mina and said. “I want to introduce you to my American friends.” Cicely practically dragged Mina over to Isabella. “Isabella dear,” Cicely shouted over at Isabella. Isabella pretended for a moment not to hear her. “Isabella…!” Cicely shouted again.

Isabella turned around and smiled over at Cicely. Cicely beckoned Isabella over and when Isabella was not quick enough for Cicely, she reached out for Isabella’s hand and pulled her over. “I want to introduce you to someone.”

Isabella walked over with Cicely to Mina and as she did so Jonathon Harker walked over to join his wife. Isabella took Mina’s hand and shook it. Isabella’s face wore a smile that made it look to all witnesses like her soul shone through with innocence.

“This is Isabella,” Cicely continued. “Isn’t she just beautiful? But then again most Americans are, although they are usually quite sun-kissed, but not you, Isabella. You are so pale, but then that almost adds to your beauty. Oh there is my friend Julia, you know Julia, she is supposed to be considering leaving her husband… Julia! Julia!” As Cicely left their company, running over to Julia, Mina and Isabella laughed together at Cicely‘s behaviour.

“I don’t think she even introduced us in the end,” Isabella stated. “My name is Isabella Hawthorne and this is my brother Cole.”

“Very nice to meet you,” Mina said. “This is my husband, Jonathon.” Jonathon Harker took Isabella’s hand and bent over to kiss it. The Dhampir that Isabella had never taken her eyes from was standing with his back to the group.

“Quincy,” Jonathon called to his son.

“Father, I am talking to Stephen,” Quincy replied without even turning around.

“Quincy,” his mother said very gently. No one, not even the most rebellious of sons, could have defied this kind and gentle voice. Quincy turned around and sheepishly looked at his mother. “Your father wants to introduce you to someone.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Jonathon Harker pointed to Isabella and said to his son, “This is Isabella Hawthorne; she is an American, Quincy.” Quincy was not paying Isabella any attention; his eyes were drawn to other things. He bowed out of courtesy and only then did she draw his gaze. From the first moment he saw her face he was enchanted.

“You are beautiful!” Quincy exclaimed. His feelings were so strong that he was unable to hide them.

“Quincy!” his mother scolded. “You should not be so forward. I do apologise for my son, Miss Hawthorne.”

“Don’t be silly, I could hardly scold a young man for so gracious a compliment.” Her words were soft and demure, and she dropped her eyes pretending to be slightly embarrassed by his compliment. Isabella then looked up at him again and smiled coyly and it was with this smile she managed to steal another Dhampir’s heart. All this time Quincy was still firmly gripping Isabella’s hand.

“Give the lady back her hand, Quincy,” his father said to him. Quincy suddenly realised he was still holding it and quickly let go.

“I am sorry,” he apologised and laughed nervously.

“There is no need to apologise.” Isabella threw him another coy smile to reassure him, and then she looked away, even managing to blush, as if she actually was slightly embarrassed by his constant intense gaze. “This is my brother Cole.” Quincy outstretched his hand to take Nicolae’s. At this exact moment Isabella dropped her glass of champagne on Quincy‘s trousers. As Quincy bent over to dry himself off she batted Nicolae’s hand away. She was determined the Vampire and the Dhampir were never to touch. “I am afraid it is my turn to apologise; how clumsy of me,” Isabella continued.

“Nonsense, I think it was my fault,” Quincy stated. Mina and Jonathon looked at each other knowingly. Quincy had never shown any interest in young ladies before; they were pleased by his sudden interest in this one, who seemed like such a well- brought up and accomplished young lady.

“How long are you staying?” Mina asked.

“At least a year.” Isabella answered. “I am afraid it is the fashion in America for a young woman to have at least one London season.”

Mina smiled. “And you sir, how long are you going to stay here?”

“Our parents are dead and I am my sister’s guardian, so I will stay as long as she does,” said Nicolae.

“I am afraid Cicely was right about one thing. The London weather is doing nothing for my pallor,” Isabella stated, knowing that young women of this time were restricted to conversations about the weather and the latest fashions.

“You should come to Whitby, then,” Quincy said enthusiastically.

“Whitby?” Isabella enquired, seeming slightly curious.

“Whitby is where we are from,” Mina answered. “It is a seaside town; it would do wonders for your complexion,” she continued.

Isabella looked at Nicolae and Nicolae, interpreting her gaze accurately, said, “My sister and I will certainly consider visiting Whitby.”

“It sounds absolutely lovely,” Isabella enthused.

“Sister, there are the Baileys—we must go and present ourselves to them.”

“My brother is right, you must excuse us, and I hope to see you again someday.” As Isabella said this she looked solely at Quincy and no one else. The two walked away from the Harkers and Quincy was once again scolded by his father.

“You mustn’t act too keen, Quincy.”

“Nonsense,” Quincy answered back. “If she looks back, she loves me.”

“Quincy such foolish talk, you should be ashamed of your behaviour tonight.” Mina said not really meaning the words she spoke. Even though both parents had scolded their son, they too watched with him to see if Isabella looked back. The three people watched her for what seemed like an age.

“It looks like she is not going to look back. That is too bad.”

“Have faith father just another few seconds.” As Quincy spoke these words Isabella turned her head slightly towards him. When their eyes met she smiled and then quickly turned away.

“That‘s it, Father, it is confirmed she loves me. I bet she will be in Whitby before the end of the month, and when she does come we shall have to get Holmwood to throw the grandest party for her.”

Isabella and Nicolae waited three weeks and then made their way to Whitby. When they arrived at the inn at Whitby there was a letter waiting for them.

“Who is it from?” Nicolae asked.

“Need you ask?” Isabella responded. “Quincy welcomes us here and begs us to call on him as soon as we arrive. How long has this letter been here for us?” Isabella asked the innkeeper.

“It is the strangest thing, Miss Hawthorne. He left it for you the day he came back from London. He must have known you were coming before you did.”

Isabella smiled. “He must have, thank you.” Isabella went over to Nicolae.

“He is smitten.” Nicolae said.

“He is.”

“It’s working then.”

“It is.”

“We must start distancing ourselves from each other to a certain extent.”

“Why?”

“If one or other of us is found out, the other must be in a position to be totally trusted by them.”

“How could they find out?”

“Remember we are dealing with a Dhampir; we have no power over him,” Nicolae laughed.

“I think you are wrong about that,” Isabella smiled. “His infatuation with me will dissipate when he realises what he is. But how can he be a Dhampir?”

“Do you think Vlad had another child?”

Isabella threw Nicolae a malicious look and he regretted saying it. She softened when she realised it was the logical conclusion.

“No, remember his mother was a Vampire for a time. He obviously was conceived when she still was,” she said.

“That is another thing I wonder about. How could she have turned back into a human?”

“I don’t know. Vlad died before she killed anyone; perhaps that is the answer. As soon as you kill your first you are eternally condemned and if the one who made you…dies first, then perhaps you are granted a reprieve,” Isabella answered.

“Do you think there was a chance for us all?”

“There was no chance for you.”

“What do you mean?

“If that is the way it works you would have had to kill me, and love you though I do, you are far from capable of killing me,” Isabella smiled, Nicolae reciprocated and a few moments passed in silence. Nicolae was still thinking back wondering if he had a choice.

“Do you remember when you turned—did you have a choice?” Nicolae asked.

“I was not aware of any choice but I would still have chosen the path I did, even if I had known of any alternative.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because my first kill was my sister and I would have endured more then this to watch her die.”

From this moment Nicolae understood that there was a coldness within Isabella and that coldness had not just came upon her as a result of being a Vampire.

A few days passed and Isabella and Nicolae were invited formally to the Harkers. They entered the house. It was unpretentious, an understated house befitting a solicitor who had inherited money. They were simple people with no pretensions above their station.