The Mina Murray Series Bundle, A Dracula Retelling: Books 1-3

by L. D. Goffigan

  Stunned silence met my words. Arthur and Seward exchanged baffled looks, while Abe’s brow furrowed with worry.

  “Ghyslaine. What’s that?” Seward finally asked.

  “I don’t know, but right before he took Jonathan, he looked at me with . . . recognition. As if he knew who I was. I don’t know how that’s possible.”

  Abe rubbed at his temples, a gesture I recognized. He did this whenever he was deep in thought, attempting to come up with a solution to a complex problem.

  “If what Lucy told us is correct, we know where they’re taking Jonathan,” I said. I needed to return the focus to Jonathan. “The Carpathian Mountains in Transylvania. That is where we must go.”

  “Wait,” Seward protested, turning to Abe. “How do you know you were talking with the same creature who took Jonathan? Or that she was even talking about Transylvania? Aren’t the Carpathians massive? Lucy could’ve just been—”

  “We don’t. But Transylvania is the most likely explanation,” I interrupted, before Abe could respond. “My father was killed in a Transylvanian village not far from the Carpathians, and Transylvania is where we recorded multiple witness accounts of vampires.”

  “You’re suggesting that we just go to some fortress in Transylvania—of which there are many—to face creatures we know nothing about?” Seward demanded in disbelief.

  While Seward was right to be hesitant and cautious, I knew we had no choice. I was determined to rescue Jonathan regardless of the danger and the odds against us, and I felt an unnerving certainty that if I didn’t go after him he would be lost forever.

  “We can gather reinforcements,” I said desperately, thinking aloud. “When we last traveled through the region, we came across villagers who lost many of their own to vampire attacks. At the time, we thought they were just being superstitious, and the deaths were caused by illness or some other rational cause. But now we know better. Surely they’ll be willing to help us.”

  “You still don’t know what we’re up against. An army of angry villagers against those things is not—” Seward began, frustrated. He turned to Abe, as if appealing to him for reason. “Abe, I know I’ve been hesitant in involving my colleagues at Scotland Yard, but maybe now we should—”

  “You know better than anyone that we can’t go to the police,” I protested, my desperation rising. “The inspector I spoke to tonight thought I was mad—and I didn’t even tell him what I actually saw! How do you think your colleagues will react when we inform them that mythical creatures abducted my fiancé from the Langham?”

  “Mina is right,” Abe said. “Your memory seems to fail you, Jack. They nearly sacked you when you first broached the possibility of the Ripper not being human—that is why you sent for me.”

  “When I proposed to the doctor that what happened to Lucy is wholly unnatural,” Arthur spoke up, his voice tinged with anger. “He nearly contacted the authorities to report me. I had to assure him my grief made me unable to think rationally.”

  “Then we are in agreement about the authorities,” I said, turning back towards Seward, who still looked uncertain. “Inspector Seward, you are under no obligation to come with us, but I am going to rescue my fiancé and bring him home. Mister Holmwood, do you have maps of the region?”

  “Yes. Please, call me Arthur. I believe that referring to each other by our Christian names is appropriate, given the circumstances,” Arthur replied, brushing past Seward to open one of the cabinets that lined the study. Seward remained rigid, but offered no further protest as Arthur flipped through several rolled up maps before withdrawing one and bringing it to his desk, where he spread it out.

  Abe and I stepped forward to examine it. The map showed Transylvania and the neighboring region of Wallachia to the south.

  “This is from a surveyor friend of mine. He has been to Eastern Europe many times. Do you see there?” he asked, pointing to various triangle shaped marks on the map. “He highlighted old castles and fortresses in the region.” He tapped one particular marked spot located at the base of the Carpathian Mountain range. “This is the only fortress in this region of the mountains. It could very well be the fortress Lucy referred to.”

  Dread mingled with hope as I centered my gaze on the base of the mountains in the northern part of Transylvania. The area was indeed mere kilometers from the village where Father had been killed.

  “Arthur,” Abe said suddenly, looking up at his friend. “I know this may seem like a cruel and impossible demand,” he added, speaking very carefully, as if he expected an explosive response to his words. “But I think we should bring Lucy with us.”

  Seward, Arthur and I stared at him in quiet disbelief.

  “Why?” I asked. “She’s in no state to—”

  “Lucy was possibly able to determine where they are taking Jonathan,” Abe said, addressing me but looking at Arthur. “We may be able to keep track of where these creatures are through her.”

  “Dear God, Abraham,” Arthur breathed, looking ill as he stumbled back from the desk. “My wife may be afflicted with something monstrous, but she is still a human being! I will not let you use her as a compass. I have helped you thus far because you are a friend and for what you have done for us, but do not try my patience.”

  Abe fell silent, and I could see a shadow of guilt in his eyes as he looked away, giving Arthur a curt nod. I sensed that had not been easy for him to ask.

  But Abe was right. Lucy could help us greatly.

  “Arthur,” I said, hesitant. “I–I think that Abe is right. Think of it . . . Lucy may be our only way of tracking these creatures down to destroy them. You know your wife. If she were lucid, would she want to do this? Would she be willing to help us?”

  Arthur lowered his gaze, taking off his spectacles to rub his eyes, which were stormy with conflict. He moved towards the fireplace, gazing down into the flames for several long moments before turning back to face me.

  “God help me,” he breathed, and his eyes now shining with tears. “My Lucy is a kind soul, and she would want to help. I–I suppose I have no choice but to give you my consent,” he whispered. “But I am coming with you as well. When we find the creature who did this to her . . . I am going to kill him.”

  “Jack?” Abe asked quietly, turning to Seward, who still hovered silently in the corner of the room. “Are you with us? I will understand if you wish to remain in London.”

  “I still think this plan’s damned foolhardy,” Seward said, raking a hand through his hair as he gave me an apologetic look for the oath. “But anyone outside of this room would think I’m mad—that we’re all mad fools. I’ve seen firsthand what these monsters have done to the innocent. I can no longer stand idly by while more are killed.”

  The silence that followed was heavy; rife with the acknowledgement of the treacherous journey that lie ahead of us. I was not one to believe in destiny or fate, Father had always insisted that it was our choices that determined our path in life. But it seemed now as if my return to Transylvania was somehow predetermined; the path I had taken to escape what I‘d seen that horrible night had ultimately become cyclical, leading me right back and forcing me to confront the monster that dwelt there.

  “Well,” I said, evenly meeting their eyes. “Let’s all be mad fools together, shall we?”

  9

  The Promise

  Before leaving the Holmwood residence, we made hasty plans for our departure from England. The next train from Charing Cross to Dover, from which we would take a ferry to Calais, left in the late morning. Arthur was well acquainted with the captain of a cargo ship that was departing earlier from Tilbury Docks with a stop in Calais before continuing on to a port in Varna.

  “The accommodations will be rather rough, but it would get us to Calais sooner,” Arthur said apologetically, looking at me.

  “I don’t care about the state of our accommodations. I just want to get there as soon as possible,” I said, bristling at his focus on me, the sole woman in the room. I had
traveled in plenty of ragged conditions with Father, and I never cared about luxury during travel. Especially under these circumstances.

  “From Calais, we will take a train to Paris and board the Orient Express to Budapest. We can then transfer to Klausenburgh, in Transylvania,” Arthur continued. “We can disembark there and arrange for horses to travel the rest of the way.”

  “That will take us through the countryside. We can gather potential reinforcements from the villages we ride through.” Abe added.

  “I will send a wire to arrange for our tickets. Barring any delays, we can arrive the day after tomorrow,” Arthur said.

  I nodded, hoping that would be enough time to get to Jonathan before any harm came to him. Unless it’s already too late, a dark thought whispered in my mind.

  We then reviewed what weapons we already possessed. I had my kukri knives, Seward had a revolver, and Abe had an assortment of knives that he could share with us if it became necessary.

  “I have a sword cane,” Arthur said hesitantly.

  I looked at Arthur in surprise. He was every inch the London gentleman; I could hardly imagine him fighting anyone. From the looks on their faces, Abe and Seward shared my sentiment.

  “It has been in my family for generations. My father insisted that Holmwood men be armed at all times. I once took lessons from a top fencing master,” Arthur continued, with a trace of defensiveness at our obvious surprise.

  “We should be settled with weapons for now. If we need more, I have contacts along the route we are traveling,” Abe said, giving Arthur a quick nod. “But we will need more specialized weapons if we encounter more than one of those creatures along the way.”

  Though I knew what we were facing, apprehension still pierced me at his words. Would I be prepared to fight one of those creatures? Even with my self-defense training, I didn’t feel confident in my abilities. But I had no choice. I would do what was necessary to rescue Jonathan.

  We filed out of Arthur’s study after agreeing to meet at the entrance to the Tilbury Docks the next morning. While Seward headed to his home in Stratford, Abe left with me to collect some of my father’s journals and records from his office that could potentially be useful during our journey. He didn’t need to pack—the one bag he’d brought with him from Amsterdam had barely been touched.

  As we traveled towards Highgate, unanswered questions swam through my mind. Why had Jonathan been taken? Who was that strange vampire who seemed to recognize me, and what did his words on Westminster Bridge mean? Why were vampires here in London? How many were there?

  By the time we arrived at my home, I was quaking with anxiety, and Abe reached out to give my arm a comforting squeeze.

  “It will do you no good to worry,” he said. “We will get him back. You need to remain focused.”

  I nodded, trying to heed his words. We approached my front door, which swung open to reveal a worried Clara standing in the entrance hall.

  “Mina! T’ank heavens. Where’ve you been?! I’ve been—” she began, sounding both angry and relieved. Her eyes fell on Abe and she fell silent, her countenance shifting from one of chastisement to confusion.

  “Abraham?” she breathed, blinking at him in surprise. “What’re you—”

  “Jonathan’s been abducted,” I interrupted, pushing past her to step inside.

  My intention had been to quickly explain what happened so that we could be on our way, but saying the words aloud broke something within me, and a sudden rush of tears sprang to my eyes. Clara gasped, pulling me into the soothing warmth of her arms. The emotional barrier I had carefully erected to maintain my stoicism collapsed, and I began to weep.

  “Oh, Mina,” she whispered, gently stroking my hair.

  My fears for Jonathan and the journey that lay ahead came out through my tears, and I wept for several long moments as Clara rocked me in her arms.

  When my tears subsided, I pulled back, wiping my eyes. Both Clara and Abe had seen me cry before, but I was still embarrassed by my outpouring of emotion. Focus on getting Jonathan back, I reminded myself. Tears will accomplish nothing.

  “I–I will explain as much as I can, but we must hurry. I need help packing, and Abe needs access to Father’s study,” I said, taking a calming breath as I blinked back the remainder of my tears.

  “Packin’?” Clara asked, an undercurrent of panic in her voice.

  “We believe we know where he is, and we’re going after him. We leave at first light.” I replied, in a tone that did not welcome argument.

  “If Jonathan’s been abducted, can’t t’ police handle it?” Clara persisted.

  “Jonathan’s abductor is not human, I am afraid,” Abe said bluntly. “The police cannot help us.”

  Clara’s hands flew to her mouth and her eyes went wide. I gave Abe a sharp look for his plainness, reaching out to gently grasp Clara’s arm.

  “I’ll explain everything while I pack,” I repeated, my tone softer this time, but maintaining its urgency. “Please give Abe access to Father’s study. We need some of his records.” My despair of just moments earlier had shifted back to determination, and I moved toward the stairs without waiting for her reply.

  Efficient as always, Clara managed to put her astonishment aside. She gave Abe access to Father’s study, made us both tea, and helped me put together a traveling bag. As I started to give her the full details of the night’s events, a knock sounded at the door.

  Both Clara and I froze. I dropped the cloak I was holding and whirled towards the doorway of my bedroom, an impossible hope swelling in my chest. Could it be Jonathan? Was he still here in London—safe? Who else would be calling at this late hour?

  I ran out of my room, flying down the hallway past a stunned Abe, who had appeared at the doorway of Father’s study at the sound of the knock. I could feel his and Clara’s eyes on me as I raced down the stairs, tore across the entrance hall, and flung open the door.

  My hope deflated when I saw who stood there.

  “Where is my son?” Mary Harker snapped, glaring at me with barely suppressed rage as she pushed past me to step into the entrance hall.

  I closed the door, turning to face her. Before Abe and I had left the Langham, I’d informed the Harker carriage driver to deliver a message to Mary with a revised version of the night’s events—only mentioning the electrical outage and that Jonathan and I had been separated amidst the chaos. I made sure the message noted that I was in contact with Scotland Yard only as a precaution, as I was certain that I would locate Jonathan shortly. It was a blatant lie, but I did not have the time to deal with Mary’s outrage and hysteria.

  “Did you receive my message?” I asked with stiff politeness, trying to maintain my calm.

  “You mean your casual note about my only child disappearing?” Mary hissed. “Yes, I did. I immediately went to the Langham and then Scotland Yard to make my own report. Jane Newton was still at the Langham when I arrived. She told me everyone saw you and Jonathan having a row. You were dallying with another man and my son was reasonably upset,” Mary seethed, her outrage growing with every word. “He stormed off because you broke his heart.”

  “That’s not true,” I said hastily, though she was not far from the truth. I silently cursed Jane Newton for her meddling. “I don’t know where Jonathan is, but—”

  “We are looking for him,” Abe finished my sentence, entering the hall behind me.

  I closed my eyes. I had been so focused on Mary that I didn’t hear him come down the stairs. He was only going to make things worse. Indeed, Mary’s eyes went so wide at his presence that it would have been comical under different circumstances.

  “And just who are you?” she spat.

  “Abraham Van Helsing. I was a colleague of Mina’s late father,” Abe replied, unperturbed by Mary’s outrage.

  “I . . . heavens, if you are spending the night—” Mary sputtered, looking back and forth between us, her indignation growing. “For an engaged woman to have another man lodge with
her! That is most—”

  “He’s not lodging here, Mary,” I said, taking a deep breath in an effort to keep my tone steady. “He’s helping me look for Jonathan. We—”

  “This . . . this is an outrage!” Mary shouted, as if I had not spoken at all. She turned her furious gaze back towards me. “I never understood what my son saw in you. You have no breeding and you are not a proper lady. When he returns, I will make it my priority to end your engagement. He will happily end it himself when I report what I have witnessed here,” she continued, looking at me and Abe in disgust, as if she had caught us in flagrante delicto.

  I glared at her, my resolve to maintain calm rapidly failing. With all of the events of the evening, the usual politeness I wore like a shield around Mary fell away.

  “I am not a lady,” I snapped.

  “I beg your pardon?” Her tone was filled with disbelief.

  “I am not a lady, and that is why Jonathan loves me. That is why I will find him, and that is why I insist that you leave my home immediately, or I will not be responsible for the consequences!”

  Mary stumbled back, her hand flying towards her chest. I noted with pleasure that she looked a bit frightened, and she was trying unsuccessfully to hide it. She did manage to give me one last glare before whirling on her feet to storm out, dramatically slamming the door behind her.

  Once she was gone, my shoulders relaxed. Though it felt wonderful to speak my mind to Mary, I knew that I had destroyed any hope of even a distantly polite relationship between us in the future.

  “The future mother-in-law, I assume?” Abe queried.

  I straightened, turning to glare at Abe, whom I had almost forgotten was there. I could tell that he was trying to appear mildly concerned, but the corners of his lips twitched as he suppressed an amused smile.

  “You shouldn’t have come down,” I muttered, moving past him towards the stairs. “That woman doesn’t need another reason to hate me.”