Chapter 35
The days between Transylvania and England blurred, and Mina felt a mix of dread and concern at what she might find upon her return. Had the Count found out about her escape? Would this be yet another reason for him to use Lucy to exact revenge on her?
But as the remaining moments of their travel closed in, and they stepped from the carriage onto that familiar street she knew inside and out, Mina found herself running to Lucy’s front door.
She went up the steps, pounding on the door, each passing moment feeling like an eternity while her mind spun with possibilities.
What if her illness had worsened in Van Helsing’s time away?
What if she was already gone? What if the Count had taken her?
The door swung inward, and Mina found herself looking into the pale blue eyes of Jonathan, who wore a look of surprise, then relief.
“Mina,” he said, pulling her into a hug.
In the many years they’d known each other, they weren’t typically physically affectionate, yet there was a comfort in his hug, the familiar scent of him a reminder of home.
She felt emotion thicken her throat, but swallowed against it.
“When I hadn’t heard from you for so long, I feared the worst,” he said.
She pulled back, furrowing her brows. “You didn’t receive my letters?”
“No,” he responded, taking a step backward to let her inside the front entrance. “Neither Lucy nor I got a single response. I’d begun to fear—well, I shan’t voice my fears aloud. You’re here now.”
So her suspicions were likely correct—someone was stopping her mail from reaching her, and stopping her mail from going out.
Someone cleared their throat, and Mina glanced over her shoulder to find Van Helsing still there on the step, unable to come inside while she lingered in the doorway.
“Forgive me,” she said, stepping out of the way. “This is Van Helsing.”
“Yes, we’ve met before,” Jonathan said, reaching out to shake his hand. “Good to see you again.”
Van Helsing moved forward, shutting the door behind him as he met Jonathan’s hand with his own.
“Right,” she said, recalling what he’d told her some days prior of his work with Dr. Seward. Their care of Lucy.
Mina’s heart thrummed as she looked to the staircase. She’d been so eager to arrive, to see Lucy and ensure she was alright, but now that she was here, she was filled with fear. What if she was not alright? Mina wasn’t sure she could handle it after all that had occurred.
“Come,” Jonathan said, “Lucy will be so happy to see you.”
Mina followed him up the wooden staircase, her heart thumping in her chest as Lucy’s bedroom door came into view. Jonathan opened it, and at first, all Mina could see was Mrs. Westenra by the bed, a look of worry on her face, until she saw Mina.
“You came,” the woman said, standing and opening her arms to Mina.
They embraced, and as Mina’s eyes looked to the bed beyond, she saw Lucy—or rather, the ghost of Lucy.
Her skin was pale, her cheeks and lips holding little more color than the white sheets she lay on.
She opened her eyes slowly, the usual vibrant blue now dull.
“Mina,” Lucy said weakly. “Is this real or am I dreaming?” A soft smile brushed her lips. Tears pricked behind Mina’s eyes and she inhaled sharply, desperate to push the emotion away. Now was not the time for hysterics—Lucy needed her to be strong.
Mina walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge next to Lucy and taking her dearest friend’s cold hand within hers. “It’s real,” Mina whispered. “I am here.”
“I was so worried,” Lucy said slowly, her voice scratchy. “You never answered my letters.”
Mina reached out, brushing a strand of blonde hair from Lucy’s face, feeling as though she were looking at a much younger version of her. Mina considered telling Lucy her suspicions about the letters, but it was clear her friend could take no distress in her state.
“I’ll explain it all to you soon,” Mina said. “How have you been? How is Arthur?” She didn’t particularly care about how Arthur was, but she knew it would bring Lucy joy to discuss.
As expected, her eyes lit up through the haze of them. “Arthur is wonderful. We’re engaged.” Lucy lifted her other arm from where it had been flat at her side, showing off a sparkling diamond ring.
“Oh, Lucy, that’s wonderful,” Mina said, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears. “You must tell me all about it.”
Lucy smiled weakly. “Yes. It was all so . . . joyous.” Lucy blinked slowly, and it was clear that she was growing fatigued even from this conversation.
“We have time,” Mina said softly, unsure of whether the words were true. “Rest now.”
“You won’t leave, will you?” Lucy asked, worry in her blue eyes.
“I won’t,” Mina said. “I’ll let you rest, but I’ll be just downstairs.”
Lucy nodded softly, sleep seeming to draw her back in. Guilt pooled in Mina’s stomach as she slowly moved from Lucy’s bedside, leaving her to rest while her mother watched over her, a basket of knitting on the floor next to her.
As Mina stepped out into the hallway with Jonathan, she found that Van Helsing had already returned downstairs, perhaps giving them a moment alone.
“How long has she been like this?” Mina whispered as they walked down the creaky steps.
“Some weeks,” Jonathan said. Then, lowering his voice even further, “Her condition has been worsening.”
Mina fell quiet, thinking back to what Van Helsing had told her prior—his theory of the connection between Lucy and the Count returning to England.
As she reached the first floor and turned right into the small living room, she found both Van Helsing and Dr. Seward there, their voices hushed and their postures tense.
“Dr. Seward,” Mina said with her best attempt at a smile. “Lovely to see you.”
He returned her smile when his eyes landed upon her. “Miss Murray, I am pleased to see you are well. I wish it were under better circumstances that we should meet again.”
Mina swallowed. “Dr. Seward, I need you to be honest with me about Lucy’s condition.” She flicked a glance to Van Helsing, whose gaze was on her. “Van Helsing has shared his beliefs about the origin of Lucy’s ailment. Are you in agreement?”
Dr. Seward was silent at first, looking at Van Helsing, then at Jonathan. He took a step toward Mina, his voice soft as he said, “Miss Murray, I assure you, we are doing everything in our power to ensure Lucy’s health returns fully.”
“Might I speak with you a moment, Miss Murray?” Van Helsing said, agitation clear in his eyes.
“You may speak with me right here,” she said. “Anything you say to me can be shared with Dr. Seward and Jonathan.” She turned then, looking at the doctor. “As I hope all will be shared with me.”
When she looked at Jonathan, his gaze flicking away, it became clear that each man in this room knew the real cause of Lucy’s illness. The moment in the coach, weeks earlier, returned to her: Jonathan looking in his Polyglot dictionary for a word spoken by the villagers. Strigoi.
“Miss Murray, I’m sure the travel took much out of you,” Dr. Seward said, his voice gentle. “Why don’t you get some rest, and we can reconvene in the morning?”
Anger boiled within her as she looked at the group of men before her.
She had spent much of her life shaped by the will of others, never wanting to cause distress or discomfort—but she saw where that had led her.
She had nearly lost her life, nearly spent the remainder of her days confined to that dungeon.
And now, she refused to leave such things in the hands of men.
“No,” she said simply.
Dr. Seward blinked, as though startled to get such a response.
Van Helsing sighed wearily.
“I am not a maiden in need of rest. I am a grown woman.” She stood taller then, pushing against the old parts of her, the ones that whispered in her mind not to upset, not to be unreasonable.
“Dr. Seward, I have the utmost respect for you, but I will be made aware of every aspect of Lucy’s case.
” She looked at Van Helsing then, her eyes firm as she said, “All of it.”
Dr. Seward gave her a weak smile then, as if unsure whether revealing everything to her would truly be poignant. “What is it you wish to know?”
“What is the nature of her ailment?” Mina asked. “Let us start there.”
Dr. Seward flicked a glance at Van Helsing. The two held each other’s gaze for a moment before Van Helsing gave a slow nod.
“Well,” Dr. Seward began, “she has all the symptoms of anemia—fatigue, shortness of breath, a pale complexion, an irregular pulse.”
“And yet you do not believe this is merely anemia,” she said.
The man took a deep breath. “I believe the anemia is a symptom of something greater. She has lost a great amount of blood and has continued to do so even when there is no logical explanation of how.”
“A vampire,” she said. Dr. Seward gave a slow nod as if he too did not want to speak the word aloud. “And how do you intend to treat it?”
“Well, we already have,” Dr. Seward said. “It started with tonics, but when her condition worsened, we performed a blood transfusion.”
“That didn’t help?”
“It did at first,” he said. “But one morning, it was as though she had never received the transfusion at all. Her symptoms returned hastily and she was on the brink of death. It was as though—” The doctor paused, looking at Jonathan, then Van Helsing. “As though she was nearly drained dry.”
Mina’s chest tightened at the thought of poor Lucy. “If Lucy has been here, under your care, how could that even be possible?”
“That’s what we are trying to uncover,” the doctor said. “We have had someone with Lucy round the clock. She has not been alone for even a moment. And yet, her condition will worsen with haste, and she has no recollection of what could have occurred.”
Van Helsing gave a low grunt of acknowledgment, as though hearing this for the first time. “It seems as though we need more security around Lucy, then,” he said.
“I’m in agreement,” Dr. Seward said, “but unfortunately, I’ve been here more than I’ve been in attendance with my other patients. I simply do not have more time to give. Why, just a few nights ago, a patient escaped the asylum.”
“Good God,” Jonathan said. “That hardly sounds safe.”
“Don’t fret, Mr. Harker, he was found the following morning,” Dr. Seward said. “He’d made his way to a nearby abbey and was muttering to himself there with his . . . collection.”
“Wait, Carfax Abbey?” Jonathan asked, his voice one of grave alarm now. Dr. Seward nodded. “That’s the property the Count purchased some weeks ago.”
“This patient,” Van Helsing said, “how has his health been since the escape? Is it possible he had an encounter with the Count?”
Dr. Seward frowned. “He seems perfectly fine. Well, I should say, he seems his usual self. He came back with no injuries or ailments that we could see.”
Mina swallowed, her mind returning to that strange dream she’d had a few days prior. The dream which felt so unnatural, as though she were seeing through the eyes of someone else entirely.
Nausea churned through her gut.
“Dr. Seward,” she said, “might I meet this patient? The one who escaped.”
Van Helsing looked at her then, as though suspicious.
She still hadn’t told him of the dream, had tried to forget about it entirely.
It wasn’t unfounded to imagine she might have nightmares after all she’d endured—but to imagine it could somehow be connected to the Count had seemed unlikely.
Yet, now, hearing about this patient, the abbey . . .
“May I ask why?” Dr. Seward said, concern on his face.
“A few days ago, I had the strangest dream,” she began.
Her heart raced as she shared such information, fearing they might think her mad.
But wasn’t all of this madness? Wasn’t all of it beyond the realm of reason?
Mina exhaled, steadying herself. “It was unlike any dream I’d had before.
It was as though I were seeing through someone else’s eyes. ”
A chill ran down her spine as she recalled it—the sights, the smells. The eerie quiet.
“I was in an abandoned building, or so it seemed. There was a man there, in the shadows, whispering to himself.”
“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Van Helsing cut in.
She frowned, agitation clear as she replied, “It was a dream. Why should I think it meant anything?”
“Why wouldn’t you?” he asked, matching her irritation.
“Perhaps I was rather occupied with trying to survive,” she snapped. “If you hadn’t insisted on keeping so many secrets—”
“Now, now, let’s not fight,” Dr. Seward said. “It seems as though we might pay Renfield a visit.”
“But what about Lucy?” Mina asked.
“I can stay with her,” Jonathan volunteered. “It would be best for a man to guard the home.”
Mina chose not to point out that multiple men had already watched over Lucy, and yet she had been repeatedly drained of blood.
But there was no use lingering on what had already happened. Lucy still needed saving.
“Thank you, Jonathan,” she said, leaving the rest unsaid.