Dracula Theory, page 8
After the carriage arrived, we made our exit, entered the home, and quietly descended to the laboratory of Abraham Van Helsing. The silence that greeted us was haunting, given a living creature was being held against his will.
In the back of my mind, the slightest concern for what we were doing bubbled up. Although the Count had threatened me once, during our first meeting, he did so only after I’d pushed him well beyond the boundaries of civility. Outside of that, the man had been a perfect gentleman to me. It was time to repay that civility in kind.
“What are we to do, Mr. Harker?”
“He must remain within the confines of the cage, but there’s no reason for him to be bound like an animal.”
“Your plan?”
I glanced at the trunk, and the man within. “One of us is to enter the cage, remove the silver rope from Dracula’s neck, and exit before he has a chance to awaken.”
“Which of us?” Mr. Renfield asked, his voice aquiver.
“As this is my idea, there’s no need to put you in danger. You can watch the gate. Open it to allow me in, close it behind me, and open it as I exit. I don’t predict any danger, but on the off-chance the Count does come out of his state in a less-than-civil mood, I’ll need to make haste in my departure. Can you do that for me?”
“I most certainly can.”
“Very well.” I took in a few quick, steadying breaths. “Let’s on with it.”
Mr. Renfield unlocked and opened the gate. I stepped into the cage and indicated for him to seal me in. Once the metal clank echoed off the walls, it was time for me to make my approach. Step by step I made my way to the trunk, silently praying Dracula remained paralyzed. A bout of cowardice overtook me, begging I rush out of the cage and up the stairs. I refused to cave to fear. Instead, I carried myself to the box and knelt.
Dracula was in the same position as when we’d left him—his eyes, reddened with what could only be terror and his mouth locked open with rage. It was that look of horror, painted across the Count’s face, that gave me the final nudge I needed to continue with my plan.
I reached down and grasped the end of the bolo, lifting the silver weight over his head. The second weight was trapped under the man’s neck, so I had to tug at the silver chain until it pulled free. Once the second weight was in hand, I released Dracula from that which bound him.
A desperate gasp issued from the Count’s mouth. I stood and stumbled backward out of fear. Before I could reach the gate, Dracula was lifted from the trunk, straight as a plank, as though the hand of God itself executed the deed with the help of rope and pulley.
The Count’s eyes, crimson orbs, glared at me. His mouth opened to reveal the dagger-like canines I’d seen too often in that Romanian village.
“Mr. Harker,” Dracula spat. “What have you done?”
“Jonathan,” Renfield shouted from behind.
I stepped back, not wanting to take my eyes off Dracula.
“Jonathan,” Renfield screamed a second warning.
This time, I turned my back to the Count. Renfield held the door open, beckoning me to make my escape. I raced out of the cage and heard it slam shut behind me. When I turned, Renfield locked the door and stepped out of arm’s reach. Dracula approached the cage and, upon nearing the metal bars, hissed and backed away.
“What is this?” The Count demanded.
“For our protection,” I answered.
“You fool. I told you in my castle, it is not I you should be concerned with.”
“I remember such a warning. Thing is, we’re not in Romania now.”
“It doesn’t matter where we are. Hide in the farthest reaches of the land, in the darkest depths of shadow, and they’ll find me. And when they find me, they’ll kill you.”
I turned to Mr. Renfield. “We should probably leave the lab, before Van Helsing discovers what we’ve done.”
“Do not leave me here, Mr. Harker. The vengeance your actions will bring down upon this house will be profound and indelible.”
With Dracula shouting a stream of pleas, Mr. Renfield and I ascended the stairs. I couldn’t help think we’d opened a dangerous Pandora’s box that could never again be closed. I didn’t voice that concern, for fear Mr. Renfield might confess our transgression to Van Helsing or the Baron.
When we arrived at the door, the chorus of Dracula’s screams could still be heard. We’d have to make our exit from the laboratory with as much caution as possible, otherwise the sound of madness would give away our misdoings.
I stopped Renfield from opening the door and waited.
“Why did you—”
I silenced my partner in crime with a finger to the lips and waited. Dracula’s screams reached a fever pitch and then, for a moment, fell to silence. I yanked open the door, pushed Mr. Renfield through, and ducked out of the stairwell myself. The second we were on the other side, I closed the door before the Count could unleash another symphony of threats.
“—hesitate?” Renfield finished his question.
“Honestly, I haven’t the slightest idea. For a moment, it seemed, I was lost in some other place. The second I cast my gaze into the eyes of the Count, my thoughts stumbled and stuttered, as though Dracula’s thoughts were tendrils digging deep into my consciousness to control my whim and will. It wasn’t until you shouted my name that my mind was released from his spell. There is something about that man, something dangerous we do not know, and cannot fathom.”
“Or Van Helsing has yet to tell us.”
I turned to Mr. Renfield. “What do you mean?”
“Abraham is a man of many secrets and motivations. How is it that he knows so much about the vampire—and went to great lengths to warn us of the creature’s powers—and yet he was willing to bring the man to the Baron’s home? To England?”
“Although I do not disagree with you, Van Helsing is a highly respected scholar, without peer. Clearly, as you can tell by his dwellings, he is also a man of means. One with such wealth is certain to have a host of secrets and rather nefarious motivations. It is my understanding that is how the affluent tend to amass and retain their wealth. Besides, I am a lawyer, so I’ve been privy to some of those secrets.”
Renfield’s gaze darted about. “Fie on your lawyerly meanderings. We have far more important issues to discuss. Such as … what do we do now?”
“We either return to the Baron’s home or we go our separate ways.”
“What if either the Baron or Abraham should catch us in the act of returning to the manse?”
Renfield had a valid point. The only logical approach to our situation was to convince the Baron, due to sheer exhaustion, we’d both opted to retire to our respective homes and get a good night’s sleep. Heaven forfend, should Mina’s father catch me in a lie of this magnitude. On top of which, if either he or Van Helsing were to find out what Renfield and I had done, Mina’s hand would be revoked and every aspect of my future in question.
I gave a quick nod. “Goodnight, Mr. Renfield. Do go straight home and speak to nobody of what we’ve done.”
“Who would I bloody tell?”
“That is of no concern to me. What is, however, is that you remain silent about everything you have seen, heard, and done. Is that perfectly clear?”
“Indeed it is, Mr. Harker. Should I assume you will no longer be needing my particular services?”
“I would not go so far as to make such an assumption. I will contact you if your skill set is required. And now … off you go.”
The dark of night engulfed me. The chilled autumn air was crisp, and had the effect of waking me from my state of sleeplessness. Or so I told myself. The truer sense of the matter was that paranoia had its tendrils buried deep in my consciousness. Waking Dracula brought with it a rather profound aftereffect—a life threatening fear. Out of nowhere, I felt myself back in Romania, a strange woman’s fingers gripping my neck tightly enough to snap it like a hollow twig.
The sound of a wolf stole my breath and brought me to a stop. I stood, bathed in the shadow of a massive tree, holding my breath for fear that glowing eyed bastard would hear me and attack. I wasn’t prepared for battle. I was armed with no crossbow, pistol, or bolo, so my chances against a vampiric mongrel were nil.
To my relief, a stray dog trotted past me, its head and tail carried high. This was no hound of hell—just an ordinary house mutt which had escaped captivity to roam free in the night.
Imagination was running rampant over logic and reason. The image of the dog toyed with my reality, sending my mind into a whirlwind of paranoia. Was the creature sent from Romania, to end my life? I’d witnessed, before my very eyes, Van Helsing kill the shape-shifting Alexandru, so either the dog was just a mutt, Alexandru had been reborn, or another cursed villager had passage on the same train that carried me from Romania. After a moment of perfect stillness, I realized my folly. The animal wasn’t about to shift into a vampire to exact revenge. I was safe. For now.
My pulse slowed. I felt a perfect fool. The only danger in this city, outside of the usual cutpurse and drunkard, was locked away beneath Van Helsing’s sprawling domicile.
“Jonathan Harker, get hold of yourself.” I mumbled under my breath.
In an instant, a much-needed relief washed over me. I was beyond danger’s grasp, and my fiancée’s health was returning. Outside of a slight moral miscalculation, life was looking rather splendid at the moment.
NINE
A Damnable Proposition
The next morning brought rays of glorious sunshine cascading into my bedroom. I had received no word that my darling Mina had taken a dreadful turn, so it was safe to assume she’d remained alive and, hopefully, still improving. After a quick round of ablutions, I devoured a long-overdue meal and exited my flat. A carriage awaited.
“My good man,” I approached the seated driver. “Were you sent here, specifically for me?”
“Aye, Mr. Harker.”
“Was this the Baron’s doing?”
“Again, I say aye.”
Curiosity struck me dumb. This was unlike the Baron, who had always insisted I fend for myself, never wanting to offer a handout in any way. The man was of the point of view one must work hard for every pence and pound. The very idea he might make something—even the slightest thing—easy for me, was beyond my comprehension.
Nevertheless, I accepted the offer and entered the carriage. The second the door shut, the horses were off. The impulse to send the driver to Renfield’s residence was stopped short, considering I hadn’t the slightest idea where the man lived. Truth be told, I knew very little about the odd little sidekick, other than he was employed by the Baron for the single task of bringing a vampire onto the shores of England. The Baron must have held Mr. Renfield in either the highest or lowest regard.
I made a mental note to learn more about my fly-eating associate.
The carriage came to a stop. I glanced out the grime-smeared window to see Van Helsing’s estate standing sentinel before me. A fist-sized lump formed in my throat. Had the Baron brought me to his home, this visit would be of a much different nature. That I’d been summoned to the scene of my only true crime did not bode well.
“Sir?” The driver called out, drawing my attention back to the moment at hand.
I opened the door and exited the carriage. After a quick adjustment to my coat, I made my way to the door. I had absolutely no desire to face either the Baron or Van Helsing, given what I’d done. The only thing I cared about was Mina. But here I was and here I would remain.
As I was about to knock, the door opened. A tall, gaunt gentleman loomed on the other side of the threshold. After a moment, the gent gestured for me to enter.
“Shall I take your coat, sir?”
I slipped out of the garment and handed it over.
“Mr. Van Helsing will receive you in his study.”
The servant caught the look of confusion in my eye and pointed behind him. “Third door on the left. No need to knock, as you are expected.”
I nodded and slowly strode toward the door in question, assuming my fate had been sealed, and a pound of my flesh was about to be exacted.
The door to the study creaked open, its hinges complaining through the whole of the movement. Inside the room, the Baron and Van Helsing were seated on opposite sides of a massive desk. Judging from the looks on their faces, nothing good would come of this meeting.
“Come in, Jonathan.” Van Helsing’s voice was surprisingly pleasant. My suspicion grew instantly deeper. “Care for a drink?”
I waved away the offer and took a seat next to the roaring fire.
“How is Mina?” I opted to launch into a diversion. Should I have to defend my actions with regards to the Count, I would certainly lose that battle. My tactic worked, as the Baron’s face lit up.
“It seems my theory was sound,” Van Helsing chimed in. “Mina has made a complete recovery. In fact, that is why we have brought you here, as opposed to the Baron’s residence.”
“I don’t understand,” I responded, thinking I should flee the room and insist the carriage driver carry me away so I could attend to Mina’s every need.
“What we have witnessed with Mina is miraculous.” The Baron sat up in his seat. “Dracula’s blood has given my daughter new life. She not only feels younger, she looks younger … by at least ten years. The naked eye would assume Mina in her teens.”
“How is that possible?”
This time it was Van Helsing who sat up a bit straighter. “The vampiric blood holds properties we do not yet understand. There is science there, but it’s well beyond our comprehension. In order to help us understand the depths of power to be mined in Dracula’s blood, we have retained the services of the doctor who helped me arrive at the blood ratio for the original formula.”
“To be mined? What exactly do you mean?” My pulse raced.
“My dear boy,” the Baron smacked me on the knee, “we might well have discovered the fountain of youth. Do you realize how much profit could be made from a single dose of Dracula’s blood? The bourgeois would be lined up, ready to empty their coffers for the prospect of retaining their youthful appearance, and the idea of living life well beyond their years. As for the wealthy, who knows what level of power I could attain from favors owed and under the table deals. We are sitting on a veritable gold mine.”
I could not, for a second, believe what I was hearing. “You cannot mean—”
The Baron cut me off. “I most certainly do. We are going to drain Dracula of every ounce of his miraculous blood and sell it as an age-reversing miracle.”
Reflexively, I stood. “Wait. Did you know about this before you sent me gallivanting off to Romania with that letter? Was Mina’s illness a cover for this despicable scheme?”
Van Helsing and the Baron laughed.
“What does it matter?” the Baron asked. “We’re talking unheard-of wealth.”
“The cost of such an industry would be your very souls. You are holding a man captive—”
“A demon,” Van Helsing correct me.
“You cannot know that. You’ve had no interaction with the man, so how can you sit there and pass such judgement?”
“I have the research to prove my theories regarding the Count.”
“And I have conversed with Dracula, looked him in the eye, and found him convivial. He is no more a demon than you or I.”
The Baron stood. “This is preposterous. Unless you have lost your vision … you have seen the fangs, you’ve witnessed the miracle—”
Van Helsing cut the Baron short. “You’ve seen the wolves and bats.”
Abraham’s statement took my breath away.
“You knew.” I accused the man.
Van Helsing nodded.
“I was in grave danger the entire time I spent alone in Romania.”
Again, Van Helsing nodded.
“And yet you did nothing.”
“You’re alive, aren’t you? Besides, I came along for the second trip. I would say that is quite counter to doing nothing.”
“But you knew the whole while I risked my life.”
The Baron stood and crossed his arms, the look on his face severe. “We suspected. There were rumors that the Count held supernatural abilities, but that’s all they were—rumors. What we knew for fact was that a man had lived beyond two hundred years. That alone was worth investigation.”
It was Van Helsing’s turn to respond. “Would you argue the end result validated the danger? Your beloved is alive, thanks to the miracle that flows within the veins of that beast.”
“Again, I say,” my voice rose above the volume one would consider polite, “Count Dracula is no beast.”
“Which explains why you released him from his bonds,” the Baron finally cut to the chase.
I hesitated, pondering what next to say in order to circumvent the wrath I knew the Baron capable of delivering.
“Well? Dare you not defend yourself?”
I sighed and addressed the Baron. “I could not, in good conscience, allow the Count to be bound like a pig destined for the spit. It’s clear no man could escape that dreadful cage, so I figured where was the harm in giving him that slightest freedom?”
“You have no idea what we are dealing with, Mr. Harker.” Van Helsing retrieved a book from a shelf, opened it, and handed it to me. “Look closely. What do you see on this page?”
A painting revealed a man, whose face was smeared with what could only be blood. In his arms hung a woman, her neck ripped open and a cascade of liquid life pouring forth. I turned away, not wanting to see the horrific image any longer.
“Well?” Van Helsing nudged me. “Who do you think that man is?”
Another look at the open book. “If you’re insinuating it is Dracula, you are madder than I originally assumed. This looks nothing like the Count.”
“It’s an artist’s rendering of the very man you defend.”
I pointed to the image and turned my gaze back to Van Helsing. “The caption says nothing about Dracula. Abraham, you are a fool.” I stood to leave. “I’ve had enough—”
