Chapter Twenty-Four
There were a lot of things that still needed to be said, as they walked back side by side, to the school. But after what seemed
like hours of intense emotional upheaval, and the sudden reversal of everything she thought she knew about him, it felt like
kind of a lot to keep going.
She needed time to let things sink in.
To sift through what this all meant.
Not to mention coming to terms with all the new memories that were now jostling for attention in her head. She was able to
remember a whole other set of parents. A high school experience that wasn’t the same. And sometimes those things made her
feel like a slightly different person.
Though she was surprised by how much of the other her felt the same.
The only real major difference seemed to be that Lilibet had known, utterly and completely, that the man now walking at her
side loved her. That if she reached out and laced her fingers with his, he would welcome it.
But Mina didn’t know how to process that at all.
She looked down at the space between his hand and hers, and it just seemed insurmountable, impossible, thick with tension.
And not just because of the way he carefully held said hand, so it never moved closer than six inches away.
He had also made a fist. A tightly clenched one, that could have meant nothing.
Even though she was doing the same.
She did it the second she felt the urge to touch him.
So she had to wonder if maybe, just maybe—
Yes that’s why he’s doing it, too, Lilibet said in her head. Though now it wasn’t so much saying from outside, as hearing her own thoughts. And her own thoughts
were very persuasive. They forced her to look up at his face, and when she did, she saw what she expected to. Harker St. James
studiously trying to keep looking straight ahead, while an actual nervous, embarrassed blush spread over his face.
As if Harker St. James was capable of feeling such things.
But then of course, he wasn’t really Harker St. James at all.
His actual name was Bram. Short for Bramhope, he’d told people.
Though it wasn’t. It was short for Ambramin of Ember, the realm where the Areifen roam. If you said it right, it sounded like
water running through rock. It was wonderful, and she wanted to speak it aloud.
But even that eluded her.
“I don’t know what to call you now,” she finally landed on. Spoken low, because they had just gotten to the courtyard. And
he answered in kind, leaning down just a little so only she could hear him.
“You think you are having a hard time with that?”
“Yes, but you’ve had chance to get used to Mina. And I am still kind of her. I still love the mum and dad I have now and hate
the people who were cruel to me in this life. I recall things that shaped me a little differently. But you . . .”
She trailed off, thinking of the strangeness of that.
Of how her life had doubled now. But his was a single line.
Even if he had drawn some of his own, between the past and now.
“I don’t mind being Harker,” he said, with a shrug.
“It’s not the real you, though.”
“In some ways, I want it to be. In fact, that’s why I chose it.”
She waited then, for him to add more. Let the silence spool out, as they pushed through the main doors. The entrance hall
was empty—the absolute opposite of what had been that first day, when she’d seen him amid the crowd. And it sunk her deep
into a series of complicated emotions.
But once they were at the stairs, she realized he wasn’t talking on purpose. “I take it the choice was one you also now feel
awkward explaining.”
“I mean I think you will probably laugh at me for it.”
“Even more reason to immediately tell me, before I figure it out on my own.”
“Or you could just leave it alone. Let me just be humiliated in my head.”
“Is it really that bad? Somehow, I don’t think it is,” she said, though she knew it wasn’t her words that prompted him. It
was the hand she let brush against his. The look she gave, of a kind that felt unfamiliar, on her face.
But was obviously not, to him.
He took in that quirk of a smile, and some of his wariness dropped.
“I did it because of Jonathan Harker,” he said, and oh, the impact on her heart, when those words hit. Even after everything
that had happened, she wasn’t ready for it. She had to focus for a good thirty seconds on keeping it beating.
It took her an age to get words out.
“Because he’s not the monster of the story.”
“Something like that.”
“He’s the hero.”
“Exactly.”
“He treats her kindly. Takes care of her. Never hurts her.”
“Yes. Yes. He is perfectly human and perfectly able to take care of Mina the way she deserves. So you know. It just felt right,” he said,
relaxed enough by her lack of scorn to run with it now. “And even more so when you turned up with that exact name, her name,
from the book. Like a sign that I was doing the right thing. I was trying to be the kind of man I should have been—like rewriting
the part of history I had ruined. In some other place I was him, and you were completely safe.”
Then he nodded, satisfied.
He strode on, down the hall.
It took him about twenty seconds to realize she wasn’t with him anymore and turned back, confused. And he stayed confused
when he saw her standing still, fist clutched to her chest, agony all over face. “What on earth are you crying for?” he said.
As if it was absolutely inexplicable that she was.
“Because it’s heartbreaking.”
“Well, I don’t see why. I just wanted to be less evil.”
“But you aren’t. You aren’t, Harker. You aren’t, darling Bram. Did you not hear a thing I said? You are the monster that isn’t
one at all. Dracula from the real story before they changed everything around,” she said—much to his mingled frustration and
shock. The former for her refusal to let him return to that way of seeing himself, she suspected.
And the latter for his name.
God, his name made him react like someone had knifed him in the chest. He jolted, hard enough that she thought she had done the wrong thing. But then he held out one of those tightly clenched fists. And as she watched, he let it unfurl. He did what he had held back from, a moment ago.
So she took it gladly.
Held it tight.
Went on, with one more piece of acceptance between them. One more step toward something else, something she wasn’t even sure
how to name. Though of course there were other things, still in the way.
“We should probably consider who was the monster, though,” he said.
And it made her heart jump so hard, she couldn’t help shaking her head.
“Or maybe we could just let it go. Whoever it was, they’re probably gone.”
“We don’t know that. I don’t even feel that. In fact, I suspect I haven’t felt that for far longer than I knew. It’s like I could somehow tell that there was something
else, like a hand on my shoulder. Some sort of darkness, following me around.”
“A shadow,” she said, as his words made everything sink into place.
The being in the Underneath. His words, like a warning.
As Bram seized them and carried on.
“Exactly. And just because they haven’t tried again, doesn’t mean they won’t.
It may just mean that you look different enough that they weren’t sure.
Or that they haven’t noticed you. Or even that they think you’re not the same sort of problem to them anymore, so why risk murder a second time?
Until you do something we can’t know, that makes them think they should.
Excelled in a way they couldn’t, achieved something they wanted, challenged something they couldn’t stand being challenged. ”
“I can be quiet and unassuming and not critical of a thing.”
“And you really think that’s the answer? That you should suffer?”
“No, but—”
“But nothing. Whoever they are, they are the ones that should. They are the ones that will, and in ways I don’t want to say, in case you think less of me for it. I will have my revenge against the nightmare that stole our lives from us, Lil. So start thinking about how we can uncover who they
are,” he said, so fierce she was almost breathless, before he got to that one last thing.
Her name.
So casually said.
Just that one syllable, tripping off his tongue, like no time had passed at all. So perfectly her that her heart raised its
hand and said present, before her head had even caught up. And it took her a second to recover from that. She almost teared
up—but knew why she held it back.
She didn’t want him to ever feel self-conscious and stop.
She had herself back now. And that meant staying the course.
“They must be a powerful magic wielder,” she suggested.
“Making a wound look vampiric isn’t exactly hard.”
“True. But knocking out a well-fed vampire is.”
That struck him. Or at least enough for him to concede, with a grim nod.
“All right. What else?”
“They knew what you are.”
“That would narrow the field down considerably.”
“Not necessarily. Maybe they never let on to you that they did. Had some reason to keep quiet, while still wanting to kill me. And kill me in a way that kept them safe. I mean, throw me in a lake and you’re going to know.
You’re going to hunt them down. They’re suddenly in grave danger. But frame you for it—”
“Then the only person I want to kill is myself.”
She felt the words sink, right through her heart.
And couldn’t help asking. “How many times did you try?”
“Not that many. Cobble wouldn’t let me.”
She snapped her fingers. “Knew it was him who helped you.”
“He did more than that. He covered everything up, while I was beside myself. Kept me fed, when I refused to eat. And when
I went catatonic for all those years, when I slipped into the long sleep, he made sure I was safe. He made that room for me,
at great personal risk.”
“So at least we can rule him out.”
“Oh god, yeah.”
“Now we just need to do that with everybody else. And I know where to start: the same place I went to, when I was sure you
were something you’re not.”
“The library, then?” he asked.
“The library, then,” she agreed, so excited for a second that she wasn’t sure what happened. One moment she was Mina, cautious
and unsure of what all of this was. The next she was reacting like someone else. Bram said let’s do book things and solve problems, and a new kind of glee overtook her.
It made her take hold of his sweater.
Two great fistfuls of it, until he was suddenly close. Very close. Closer than that even, because oh good god was that his
mouth on hers? It was, and she had done it. She had made it happen. She had kissed him, all clumsy eager exuberance.
And Harker? Well, he was very not that.
He was cold. He was disdainful. He looked down on things like clashing teeth and explosive joy and passion. Oh god, she thought, as he made a sound of shock horror. Her face already heating, her excuses already lined up, her body leaning
away from his.
And then his hand went to her waist.
And instead of letting her go, he hauled her closer.
It wasn’t horror; it was delight, her brain informed her.
This isn’t Harker, this is Bram, it tried to stress, Then for just one blissful moment, she let herself feel it. She sank into it, the same as he was doing,
with one long groan of relief. At long last, that body language seemed to say.
Before he came back to his senses, and ripped himself away.