Part 10 (2/2)

Abraham, I said without moving my lips, and his eyes, startled and ingenuous, focussed instantly on mine.

I had him at once. With the thrill of the hunter knowing the prey is his, I leaned towards him until our faces were almost touching; his went utterly slack, and the pupils of his eyes dilated until only a tiny rim of blue, blue iris could be seen. His breadiing grew slow, shallow.

He sagged back against the seat, his hands limp at his sides, awaiting my command.

Your life and death are in my hands, I told him- and meant it, for I realised that my little demonstration was a grievous mistake. I was almost as helpless as he- helpless in the face of my own appet.i.te. I was near enough to smell his warm, warm skin, feel the heat of his body, hear the gentle, barely perceptible throb of his heart and the murmur of rus.h.i.+ng blood.

Unfasten your collar, Abraham.

I had not meant to issue the command, but it came forth unbidden, and I watched, hypnotised myself by desire as he unloosed his cravat and removed the stays.

And then the appearance of skin, flushed with blood, pulsing, ruddy against the stark white of the open collar ... I found myself drawing closer, closer, until my lips tingled from the heat; until they hovered a mere inch from his bared throat.

The shrill cry of the train distracted me an instant; it was enough to rescue us both. I pulled back in dismay and thrust him from me-too roughly, I fear. He struck the wall beside the window and tumbled to the floor, then gazed up at me, his spectacles askew, in complete astonishment.

”We will discuss this at a later time,” I said abruptly, and left the compartment while I still could.

To-night! It shall have to be to-night; if only I can control myself. . . .

The Diary of Abraham Van Helsing 23 NOVEMBER. Darker and darker it grows. Darker and darker . . .

I was sleeping in the wagon-lit, secure in my privacy, knowing that Arkady would be gone until daybreak. In truth, that sleep was restless and long coming, for the earlier incident in the compartment with him troubled me. I had indeed lost control of my will, and the immediacy of the experience-and its frightening culmination-brought home the notion that perhaps what was happening was real.

He came close to killing me to-day; I know it. And if Arkady is capable of such sudden arbitrary violence, then what of Vlad?

And Stefan, and Jan . . .

Stop. That way leads to pointless torment.

To continue: After some hours, I had fallen into an uneasy sleep only to be abruptly awakened by a hoa.r.s.e groan.

”Abraham . . .”

I opened my eyes to see Arkady sitting on the berth across from mine, face buried in his hands in a gesture of utter despair. I sat up, instantly alert, heart pounding, convinced that he had somehow come across terrible news: that Jan or Stefan was dead. ”What is it? What has happened?”

He looked up, revealing an expression not so much of grief as of shame. I sensed at once that something was different; his pallour had vanished. Indeed, his face was quite flushed, as some men's become when they overindulge in drink, and his lips cherry-red. ”I need your help,” he said in a voice drowsy and faintly slurred, which increased my suspicion that he was drunk. ”In the compartment.”

He faltered, until I demanded: ”Out with it! If you must interrupt my sleep, do so efficiently!”

He was silent a moment, then said, more calmly, ”Very well. In our compartment, you will find a man. A dead man. I had not intended this to happen, but I should not have waited so long-”

My voice dropped to the faintest whisper. ”Are you saying that you killed him?”

This time he met my gaze steadily; his own was heavy-lidded, as though he fought imminent sleep. ”Yes. Inadvertently. And I require special a.s.sistance.”

I did not wait to listen to the rest but climbed from my berth and hurried, barefoot and clad in only a nights.h.i.+rt, to the compartment. Time was of the essence; many times the untrained eye and ear may fail to detect a pulse and proclaim death prematurely. If Arkady was wrong, I wanted to provide whatever medical a.s.sistance I could.

And if he was right, I had to see the evidence with my own eyes.

The lamp had been extinguished. The compartment was unlit save for full moonlight, which streamed through the unshuttered window and was broken by the occasional denuded branches of tall trees, which dappled the scene with fast-moving bands of dark and light.

I stepped into that ever-changing chiaroscuro and nearly stumbled over a body upon the floor, quite hidden by the darkness.

I did not light the lamp but instead knelt down at once to conduct an examination, making use of the fleeting moonlight and the degree to which my eyes had adjusted to the dimness.

It was a man, lying on his side in a sprawling pose that suggested he had lain upon the seat, then rolled off due to the train's motion. He was well dressed, white-haired, with a long, drooping mustache, and so portly he took up most of the floor between the pa.s.sengers'

seats; I could scarce find the room to kneel beside him.

With difficulty, I rolled him over that so that he lay supine, and pressed an ear to his chest.

The heart within was silent; nor could I find the pulse in the wrist or neck-but at the throat was a small dark stain. I touched it with a finger, and raised it to my face, and smelled cooling blood.

Arkady had been right; he was dead, but the skin was still quite warm. The murder had taken place recently.

”I was careful,” Arkady said softly, his tone one of regret and dismay. I glanced up to see him sitting, knees clasped to his chest, upon the seat beside us. ”Quite careful not to drink too much-but of a sudden, he simply . . . collapsed.”

”Light the lamp,” I said.

He tilted his face, curiously phosph.o.r.escent in the moonlight, in a gesture of disbelief.

”Impossible. Someone might pa.s.s by. For me, incrimination presents no difficulty; I can easily find a means of escape. But for you to be seen with the corpse-”

”Light the lamp.”

After a moment's pause, he did so, and the results of his appet.i.te stared sightlessly back at us in uncomfortably distinct detail: a grandfatherly man, a Papa Noel, with snowy waving hair, jowly neck, small pale green eyes behind gold-rimmed spectacles, and apple-round cheeks. I continued my examination, grateful that my habitual professional demeanour allowed me some control over the emotions that a.s.sailed me-espedaily at that moment when I wiped away the congealing blood upon the man's throat with my kerchief and saw the indisputable evidence of two small puncture wounds.

The same wound that I had seen on Gerda's neck.

I can no longer deny the reality of all these insane events. But that does not mean I must partic.i.p.ate in them.

Arkady sat in clearly miserable silence until at last I looked up and said, ”You are right; I do not think he died from loss of blood. Look at his colour: his lips and gums are still pink, and there is a faint flush still on the cheeks.”

His expression grew hopeful. ”Then I did not kill him?”

I made a half-hearted attempt to keep judgement from my tone and failed. ”I did not say that. See the eyes? How one pupil is much larger than the other? It is indicative of bleeding in the brain: apoplexy. His fear may have triggered an attack.”

”I tried to ease his fear. I did not think that-” Arkady began quietly, then looked up in mild alarm as I rose. ”Do not go just yet, Abraham. I did not bring you here to confirm what I already knew.”

”Then what a.s.sistance did you need?” My emotions were already taxed to their limits; I felt disgust, anger, that he should have committed such an act, then asked me to be party to it. I felt anger, too, and sorrow, for the sake of poor dead Papa Noel. ”I am a physician, sir; this man is beyond my help.””In fact, he is not, Doctor Van Helsing. In two nights, perhaps three, if not prevented, he will rise to be one such as I.”

I had seen and heard enough in the past week to check my scepticism and replied only, ”Then what must be done?”

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