Part 18 (1/2)

'But what if they try again? I know them; they won't just leave me here! Promise me you will not harm them! There is no need, surely!'

I wished I had not spoken. His dark, haughty eyes rested upon me, half mocking and half tender. 'I can make no such promise.

If they do nothing foolish, they will be safe, but that seems unlikely. Or if... ah, what will you give me in return for such a promise, Mina?'

I felt myself blus.h.i.+ng. 'You have had my blood. I have nothing else to offer.'

'Not true,' he said. 'There is still your soul, your love, your loyalty and company in this long twilight of loneliness. You know what I want.' A pang went through me.

'Me, to use against your enemies!'

'Ah, far more than that.'

'If you kill me,' I said, breathless, 'and I become like you, Van Helsing and the others will destroy me without hesitation, rather than let me fall to evil. Be a.s.sured that they will find me, and that you will lose me!'

'You are so eager to surrender to G.o.d, to martyrdom. Why not defy Him a little? If He loves sinners, I must be among His favourites.' The Count leaned forward and took my hands. His touch was light, yet I recoiled a little. 'Always you flinch when I come near you. Is this with fear or pleasure - perhaps fear of pleasure? You have no need to fear me, Mina. I have done my worst.'

'Truly, I am sure you have not. I want to go home. Let us go and I will ensure that Van Helsing and the others leave you in peace!'

'But will I leave them in peace?'

'I would have thought you too proud to sink to such vindictiveness. It seems ign.o.ble.'

'I have never shown my enemies any mercy, beloved. I have always harried diem to the very end. I am too old to change my habits.'

'Surely not.'

'Don't imagine you can change me.'

'I don't care to change you,' I retorted. 'My concern is to protect those I love. I have no concern for you whatsoever.'

'You lie charmingly. Even for the Devil himself, you feel some sorrow, some pity.'

'Then I confess. Of us all, I think you are the saddest.'

My defiance only made him smile. 'And you, Mina, cannot understand why you are so drawn to me. You know me better than you know your husband. He recoils from your pa.s.sion, does he not, and speaks of madness and cure - but I accept all that you are, dark and light.'

Everything he said was true. Yes, I fear him, I despise him, but the fear and the despite are almost a habit, that I have to keep stoking up or else I forget to feel them. But this is the lulling influence of evil at work!

As we talked, I became aware of dogs barking and howling under the window. 'What's that?' I said, starting up.

'Nothing,' he said with a dismissive gesture. 'My helpers inform me of their presence, that is all. They remind us that no one may come in or go out without my authority.'

I made no reply, but my spirits dropped even lower. There was no hope of escape or deliverance. Dracula regarded me as if he knew what I was thinking.

'Mina, have you thought upon what I asked you?'

'I have. My answer is no.'

He sighed. 'As always you follow your morals, not your heart.'

'You are mistaken to think that they differ.'

'Very well, we will talk of something else.' He leaned towards me and spoke softly. 'Consider your son. He is a beautiful child, but sickly, is he not? His heart and lungs are weak. He could die at any time. A head cold could take him from you. You do not expect him to reach adulthood, do you? Deny it all you will, in your heart you do not expect him to live. Perhaps at twelve, or ten, or seven . . .'

By now tears were running uncontrollably down my face. His words undid me utterly. I managed to hold myself upright in my chair but I was racked by sobs.

'He need not die, Mina. I can give him immortality.''Make him-'

'Immortal, yes.'

'Undead!' I cried in horror.

'Whatever term you care to use, the point is this; what mother would not desire her son to live for ever? Or to outlive her, at the least. Mina, I have not touched a hair on his head; do you not trust me with him? I could almost love him like my own. Three kisses, so gentle he would not even feel them in his sweet sleep. Of themselves they would not kill him; I can be as delicate as I am brutal. But when his time comes - ah, then you need not mourn his death. For you know he will rise again, and come back to you, and be with you for ever. Your angelic, loving son.'

My brain is on fire. I cannot rest or sleep for the endless grinding of my thoughts. When Dracula left me, it was without touching me physically; he took no more blood from me, nor did he force me to drink his. But with his words about Quincey, he did something far worse.

I will not sell my soul for my own immortality. But for my son's -!

Oh dear, dear G.o.d, what have I done to be so tormented, so cursed?

16 November Thank heaven for shorthand - I write at speed, and in inexpressible distress.

After Dracula had gone, and I had finished my diary, I lay down beside Quincey and stroked his golden hair. He stirred in his sleep; I promised him that we will soon go home. He murmured, 'But this is home, Mama. Elena says so.'

Now I curse the day I ever befriended her!

I fell asleep, and slept very deeply, almost as if I had been drugged - indeed, I am now almost certain that I was.

When I woke, it was well into morning, and Quincey had gone.

I ran down to his room; there was no sign of him or Elena, and the fire was dead in the grate, as if there had been no one there for hours. The door from the keep to the house was locked as always. I was frantic for a few hours, though I endeavoured to be as calm as I possibly could. I knew where the Count must be - unless he also had deserted me.

But at midday- a very foggy, grey day, with leaves dropping like brown rain from the trees - I heard the locks and bolts being drawn back. I ran down the stairs and was met half-way by Dracula. He looked so grim and angry that he quite unnerved me.

I told him I could not find Elena and Quincey. 'I heard nothing, my son was gone from my side when I woke!'

'They have left Carfax,' he said simply.

'Why?'

He took my wrist and led me back to my room. 'Elena has taken Quincey away, against my wishes,' he said, low and furious.

'She has defied me.'

I could not understand, and said as much. Dracula seemed as outraged as I was distressed. He answered, 'Yesterday she begged me to make her Undead. Her impatience angered me, and I refused. She is jealous of you, beloved. This is her revenge against us both.'

And it is worse than Dracula himself taking my son - for at least he has some authority, some integrity; he may be a devil, but he is at least a familiar one! Elena - who knows what is going on in her tormented mind? I put my hands upon his chest and implored him to help me find her.