Bloodline (18 page)

“I dreamt I saw my mother again,” she murmured, creasing her brow as she tried to remember.

I took her hand in mine. “Lily, there is so much you should know,” I began. “I think it is best if I tell you everything.”

“Everything?” she repeated tremulously.

With a heavy heart I began. “You have been deceived, Lily, most terribly deceived.”

I told her of Harker’s true nature, of the plan that had deprived Lily of her mother and father, and how she had been raised by Antanasia in preparation to be a demon’s wife.

With every revelation I waited for her to scream or cry or swoon away, but she only stared at me blankly until I wondered if she were really awake or merely in another state of stupor.

“Lily, do you understand?” I asked her when I’d finished.

Her eyes searched mine and she nodded slowly.

I put my arms around her. “Why do you not cry?” I implored, my own eyes filling with tears of frustration and pity.

She did not answer but gently drew away from me and climbed from her bed. I watched as she made her way to the white gown hanging from a dressing screen in the corner.

Someone had placed the gown here—in her room—while we attempted our escape. It was to be her wedding gown. And this, St. Andrew’s Eve, her wedding night.

She fingered the fabric delicately, admiring it with a melancholy expression. “Quincey made me happier than I’d ever thought possible,” she said quietly. “To have felt that, for even a short while, is more than I’d expected of this life.”

“But you
will
reject him now,” I responded. “Won’t you?”

She remained silent.

“Lily,” I implored her. “Tell me you’ll reject him.”

After several long moments she turned to me. “Where is John?” she asked.

“He’s resting,” I lied. I did not want to add to her distress. The truth was, I had no idea where her brother might be.

“You must rest too,” Lily replied.

I nodded.

It is true, my limbs grow heavy now with sleep. When I awaken, I shall take my courage in both hands and search the castle to find out where Harker sleeps. I
cannot
give up and must keep on looking for a chink in his armor.

Journal of
Lieutenant John Shaw

29TH
N
OVEMBER 1916

Early this morning, Mary came to find me. She fixed me in a sorrowful gaze.

I lifted a hand to my neck, hoping that my collar covered the marks Mina left there.

Shame engulfed me like flames. I could barely meet her eyes.

“What do you want?” I demanded. “Why do you look upon me so?”

“Tonight is Saint Andrews’ Eve,” she said. “I only wonder how we might comfort one another in this dreadful hour.”

I bristled at her soothing tone, convinced that she was patronising me—that she knew I had yielded to Mina’s cruel seduction.

“You are lying!” I yelled.

Mary stood her ground, betraying only faint shock at my attack.

“I have failed to save you and Lily!” I shouted at her. “I have failed to save myself. I should not have brought you here. You hate me for doing so.”

“I do not blame you,” Mary said softly. “It was I who volunteered to come.”

“And I agreed—because I was too weak to face this alone.” I flexed my fists, trying to contain my fury. “I am
still
too weak, and you stand there and stare at me like I am a child to be pitied!”

“John, I understand. We are the victims of a plot more terrible than we had imagined. We must continue to think about our escape—and not give in to despair.” Mary’s voice was sweetness itself, but the more she tried to pacify me, the more I felt her distance.

She began to pace the room, her face set in deep concentration.

As I watched her, my temper flared higher. She still had hope, the foolish girl! She refused to give up!

Then another thought entered my mind and filled me with a shame I could not bear.

My resolve was so weak, it could not even match a woman’s!

I could bear to look at Mary no longer. The sight of her
repulsed me. I stormed out of the room, leaving her in her confusion.

Dawn was still nearly an hour away. I did not welcome its coming, wanting instead for the darkness to linger. Dismayed by this alien sensation, I went in search of liquor, thinking it might ease my emotions.

As I entered the drawing room, Mina was standing before the fireplace, her dress illuminated by the flames. She smiled knowingly at me.

I flashed her a look of disgust and strode over to the cabinet to pour myself a whiskey.

“You will not quench your thirst that way,” she observed in silken tones.

Her voice stung like salt rubbed in a wound. I flung my glass into the fireplace. It shattered on the grate before her feet. “Shut up!” I yelled.

She did not flinch, only smiled again, her eyes beginning to glow red as she fixed her gaze on mine.

I felt my fury begin to melt into desire.

Mina walked slowly across to me. “That’s better,” she said. She began stroking my cheek.

It was as though my flesh remembered her caress and welcomed its return. She kissed my lips and I grasped her and pulled her to me.

This was not like before; I was not overwhelmed by my
passion, but felt a growing power in me to control it. I kissed her hard, hating her as much as I desired her, wanting to make her feel the power that was awakening in me.

“That’s right, John,” she breathed between kisses. “Accept your destiny, revel in the pleasure it can bring you.”

I silenced her with another kiss, not wanting to hear her gloating sermons. “I cannot live as I did before,” I told her, “weak and afraid.”

“Once more,” she whispered, “and you will have all the power you need.”

I felt her lips on my mouth, on my cheek, on my throat. There was no place left for me in the world I’d left behind, but here I could have all the power and pleasure I desired.

Better still, I could finally defeat Harker and punish him for his ruination of everything I loved.

“Finish it!” I ordered, shaking her.

I shuddered with satisfaction as I felt her teeth pierce my neck.

There are no words to describe the draining of my life. I do not even know if I lost consciousness. I only remember Mina’s glowing eyes, the image of which seemed to burn on when dawn drove her back to her resting place.

I climbed the stairs toward the peace and seclusion of my bed.

Drapes covered the windows of my room when I reached
it. I welcomed the gloom, safe from the hateful daylight outside.

I feel a languorous fatigue creeping through my bones. And now that I have recorded this momentous passing, I shall sleep a long and dreamless sleep, my heart calm at last.

Journal of
Lily Shaw

29TH
N
OVEMBER 1916

How pretty the wedding gown looked on me. Though I had no mirror, dawn had hardly yet lightened the sky outside and I was still able to view my reflection in the windows. I’d slipped the gown on as soon as Mary had left, and the sight of it made me long for Quincey so!

I had promised Mary I would not stray, but I could not help myself.

I stole from my room and went in search of my beloved, calling for him as I wandered the shadowy corridors. My calls echoed along the stone walls, sometimes coming back to me—making me wonder who else could be calling out so desperately.

And suddenly he was there … coming to me from out of the shadows.

I fell against him, desperate to feel his solid chest against my own.

He held me for a moment. Then spoke with a curious concern in his voice. “Lily, why is Mary not with you? Let me take you back to your room.”

I gazed up at Quincey’s beautiful face. “My love …” I whispered, reaching out to touch his smooth cheek. “Do you like the gown on me?”

With a deep, fathomless expression in his eyes, he ran his fingertips gently along the lace-edged neck of my wedding gown. He nodded. “You are beautiful,” he told me softly. “The most beautiful creature to ever walk in this place. But Lily, you must know by now … you must realise what sort of monster it is that you love.”

“So … it is all true …” I said brokenly.

Quincey nodded. “I’m sorry, Lily….”

His apology—the confirmation from his own lips—nearly undid me. But he cradled me so tenderly in his arms, wiping my tears as I wept. God help me, my heart remained his….

“Hush, my dearest.” He spoke soothingly. “Please, don’t cry.”

“How can I dry my eyes?” I asked, gasping out the words. “You have never loved me. You merely carried out your father’s wishes.”

He took my chin in his hand and gently turned my face toward his. “I may not have told you the truth. But in my affection I did not deceive you. I did not think it possible for
a heart as black as mine, but I have fallen for you, Lily. Your very presence brings me a joy I have not felt since I was a boy.”

“Then how can you ask me to be a part of this life—of these horrors I cannot bear to imagine?” I asked.

Sadness played upon his face. “There can be no other way. But I promise you this—I will protect you from all that offends you. You will be safe and comfortable with me here. And when your transformation is complete, we can truly live together for all eternity.” He paused. “I promise you, Lily. I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are happy.”

I gazed at him—my beloved. His words were so sweet. In that moment, I felt that I could believe him.

“Lily, will you be my bride?” Quincey asked.

I nodded, and he held me so tightly I felt the true force of his affection for me.

“Dawn is coming,” he said when the embrace was through. “I must go. Tonight will be the beginning for us, my darling. Do not be afraid. I will be by your side.”

He kissed my hand, turned, and strode off to I know not where. I stood in the empty corridor—struggling with my wild emotions.

I had asked for an eternity by Quincey’s side—and now I could truly have it. But at what price?

I wish I had never awoken from my innocent slumber to
this unbearable reality. When I leaf through earlier pages in this journal, it is as though I wrote from another life. Every hope has since been dashed.

And yet I long to feel Quincey’s embrace once more. I love him still, though I know what he is. I cannot let go of the tenderness I have seen in his eyes. I cannot believe he does not love me.

Enough. As Quincey said, there is no other way. I will go and prepare for what must be done.

Journal of
Mary Seward

29TH
N
OVEMBER 1916

I awoke to find the day almost gone! The sun was setting. Lily sat at the window, motionless, lost in her own thoughts.

I was furious with myself for sleeping through the hours of safety, but nothing would be gained from regret. Taking garlic and a bottle of holy water with me, I left the room, telling Lily to lock the door behind me.

I made my way down the staircase and crossed the entrance hall to the wing opposite ours. The layout of the wing was a mirror of the one Lily and I inhabited. I
tried each of the doors. All were locked, save the last.

I pushed the door open, and my breath stopped in my throat. It was a large, opulent bedroom. A British Army captain’s uniform hung on the side of a massive wardrobe. I’d found Harker’s lair.

Relief and suspicion rose in me at once, as he had not locked his door. Heart thumping, I looked around, ready to flee if I had to.

The large bed was empty. I wondered if Harker ever slept there or if he, like his grandfather, needed the sanctuary of a coffin in which to rest. Perhaps now, returned to his home, he had embraced the vampire custom and chose to lie in one of the coffin rooms. I hoped so—I hoped he was far from here.

I stepped inside. A huge desk sat before one of the windows, cluttered with papers. Along one wall were rows of books, a lifetime’s reading. Not knowing when he might return, I hastily rummaged through Harker’s possessions, desperately looking for something that might provide a key to our escape.

The contents of his bookshelves ranged from classics I had read myself to darkly titled books on the occult that I feared even to touch.

I came upon a collection of journals. With trembling fingers I plucked the most recent one from the shelf and began to scan its pages.

Journal of
Captain Quincey Harker

28TH
N
OVEMBER 1916

I wish I had not brought that poor sweet creature here. She is like a lamb among lions. Why couldn’t Father have chosen a less gentle and innocent mate for me?

Now that I am returned to the bosom of my family, I feel my destiny pressing on me as never before. The weight seems, at times, more than I can bear. Out in the fields of France, where my victims were also my enemies, it was easy to slake my bloodlust. But remorse pricks at my heart when I am compelled to ruin those I have grown to know.

Do I really want this dynasty of gore and darkness that has been planned for me?

Perhaps, if Lily Shaw is at my side …

So gentle and yielding is she that she begs for me to take her.

I want only to ease her fears. But she is right to be afraid. The life that Father has determined for her will change her forever—as it changed my mother, as it changed Rosemary Shaw.

As it now changes her son.

Like Lily, John Shaw must be transformed by St.
Andrew’s Eve, and no doubt Mother is making quick work of it. Shaw is so weak-willed and impressionable that it will barely be a challenge for her.

When I look at Shaw, I wonder what Father sees in him. What makes him believe that John is suitable to restore our bloodline?

It does not matter.

It is truly out of my hands. And by tomorrow night, Father’s wishes will be fulfilled. I will have completed my destiny.

Journal of
Mary Seward

29TH
N
OVEMBER
(CONTINUED)

The journal slipped from my fingers. Could Quincey’s suspicions be true? Was Mina Harker seducing John? Turning him into a vampire?

My heart railed against doubting my love. Yet his demeanour was so changed, so hateful since arriving here….

I shook my head.

No, no. It could not be. John loved me. He could not be lost to me forever!

My mind whirled, thinking of all that had happened. I was not aware of the time that passed.

Then I heard footsteps approaching in the hallway outside. I stood and faced the door, realising that I stood in almost total darkness.

I gasped. Night had fallen! How could I have been so careless?

I reached for the bottle of holy water in my pocket just as Quincey entered.

The look of surprise on his face gave way to cold rage.

“So we are alone,” he muttered. I gripped my bottle of holy water harder, taking strength in its presence. But I was determined I should not reveal my fear and so faced Harker boldly.

“I know of your doubts,” I challenged him. Quincey’s eyes glittered as he returned my unflinching gaze.

“Even
you
cannot bring yourself to spoil such an innocent,” I pressed on.

“I must honour the house of Tepes,” Quincey replied. “Lily can not escape her destiny.”

“I will do everything in my power to ensure that she does,” I warned him.

He raised an eyebrow, as though my threat intrigued but did not worry him. “I shall enjoy watching you try,” he said.

Legs trembling, I crossed the room, my heart stopping
for a moment as I passed him, and went through the open door.

I looked back and saw him just standing there, still as a statue.

I turned a corner and began to run as fast as I could, back toward the haven that I shared with Lily.

What relief I felt when I saw John outside Lily’s door. “John—thank goodness! I was so worried!” I called. He looked so strong and healthy that I thought Harker’s suspicions about him could not possibly be true.

But then he turned to look at me. I saw his eyes were as hard as glass.

Then, out of the shadows, stepped Mina.

I faltered, dreading what this might mean. As I drew nearer I noticed, with repulsion, the familiar way Mina rested her hand on John’s shoulder.