Karen Essex - Dracula in Love

“Morris?” Both Seward and Godalming looked astonished to see Quince, but only Seward spoke. “Morris, what the hell are you doing here?”

Von Helsinger’s attention was on Jonathan. “Harker, you have betrayed us to the monster!” he said. He turned to Seward. “I told you not to trust him. He was bitten. His loyalty is with the creatures!”

Seward looked at me. “We should have expected it. They are a family of betrayers.”

I cannot say that the appearance of the two doctors did not frighten me. The fear that they could capture me and once again inflict their cruelty in the name of science and medicine came rushing in. I had to remind myself that now I had power against them. “Whoever touches me will pay the price,” I said. The two men looked fearfully at the Count, unaware that it was I who would happily kill either one of them if provoked.

No one seemed to know what to do until Morris Quince looked at Godalming and at the pistol and without hesitation leapt on him, knocking him backward into the other men and onto the marble floor. Oblivious to anyone else or to the gun that Godalming still held, Quince started punching him in the face.

The two doctors were unprepared for the appearance of this new enemy, and they both shrank back. Seward yelled at Quince to stop. “You have no idea what you are interfering with, Morris. Get out of here!” He tried to grab Quince from behind, but the larger man did not budge. Godalming struck Morris in the temple with the gun, but Morris did not seem to feel it. He continued to straddle Godalming, delivering his blows until the gun, still in Arthur’s hand, was pointed at Seward. The doctor saw that the barrel was directed at his face and he cowered.

Von Helsinger was pressed against the door, his big black grasshopper eyes darting between the fight and the Count. Jonathan moved to enter the fray, I suppose, to help break it up. But the Count held him back. “This is not your affair, Harker.”

“It is my affair. I’m taking Mina out of here,” Jonathan said, reaching for my arm, but the Count stopped him, seemingly by just putting a hand on his shoulder. “Not yet,” the Count said. I saw Jonathan’s arm and shoulder flinch under the Count’s touch and knew that he must be using his intense energy to detain him.

One must know when to interfere in the course of human events .

Though he had removed his essence from me, I still heard his bitter words inside my mind, and I knew that they were directed at me with the intent to let me know that I had wounded him yet again.

But I was afraid to take my attention off the fight. Quince was seething and out of control. “This is for Lucy,” he said, delivering one blow after the next. Clearly the stronger man, his fury magnified his power. Seward kept circling the two men on the ground, trying to find an opportunity to grab Quince, but his arms were swinging too wildly for anyone to get close.

My eyes followed the barrel of the gun as Quince’s blows sent it pointing all over the room. Arthur’s finger was on the trigger, and I was afraid he would fire it and hit someone. The barrel swung with the force of the punches, making targets of each one of us. I was amazed at how Arthur was able to retain his grip on it.

Morris Quince pulled back his huge fist preparing for the coup de grâce. He swung, punching Arthur hard across the face, connecting with a sickening whack. The gun flew out of Arthur’s hand, sliding across the marble, and landing at Von Helsinger’s feet. The doctor quickly picked it up.

Morris did not look up, but continued to pummel Arthur.

“Morris, you’re going to kill him,” Seward said, standing back but using his doctor voice. “Do not do this. You will regret it.”

I turned to the Count. “Please stop him,” I said. I hated Arthur for what he had done, but I did not want to watch a man die. Please . I begged him with my mind, with my eyes, with all my feeling, because I knew that he was the only one who had the power to stop the brawl. He looked at me impassably, doing nothing.

It is not my affair, nor is it yours. Many faces are at work here. Do not interfere .

The Count turned away and looked at Von Helsinger, who held the gun in his quivering hands. I thought he would use it to whack Quince on the head and save Godalming, but instead, he sidestepped the two fighting men and pointed the gun at the Count. The doctor’s hands were shaking as he slowly pulled back the hammer, unsure what he was doing. It looked as if the effort of drawing it backward was more than he had anticipated, and he had to use both thumbs. The barrel of the gun wavered in the air, pointed at everyone and no one.

“Get out of the way, Harker,” he yelled. “Give me a clear shot at the demon!”

Look at me, Mina. Look at me .

I did not want to take my eyes off Von Helsinger, but I felt the Count demanding that I meet his eyes.

I looked at him, and he gave me an almost indiscernible smile. In that instant, I heard the gun explode. Jonathan put his arms around my waist and pulled me aside. I did not see who or what the bullet hit, but, as the deafening noise echoed off the marble floors, sounding through the foyer, Quince stopped hitting Arthur and jumped to his feet.

Von Helsinger was shaking, his big eyes bulging. A puff of smoke hung over the barrel. The Count’s great sapphire eyes were gleaming, brighter than I had ever seen them.

“It is not over, Mina,” he said to me. “It is never going to be over.”

Eternity is ours .

The bullet had punctured his chest, but it had not exploded with blood. Rather, a white vapor began to pour out of the wound. The expression on his face did not change, and he held me with his eyes. Slowly, his body began to fade, like a painting that has muted over time, only this was happening before our very eyes. The color drained out of him until he turned pearlescent and increasingly more transparent, the way he had looked in the Gummlers’ photograph. Particle by particle, his shimmering essence transformed into the fine white mist that I had seen creep through the asylum window. Then, without a trace, he evaporated into the air, joining with some invisible web of things.

Everyone was quiet, watching the miracle in astonishment. For what seemed like a long time, no one moved or spoke, too awestruck by what we had just witnessed. Despite the agenda the men had come with, both Seward and Von Helsinger were moved to wonder. Von Helsinger muttered something in German, and Seward replied, “Amen.”

We stood as tense as statues, staring at the space that the Count’s body had once occupied. Everyone was afraid to move. Morris was the first to let out a deep breath, which reminded the rest of us to breathe. Von Helsinger dropped his gun hand to his side, his arm still shaking. I could hear everyone begin to take breaths. Just as everyone began to exhale, Arthur grabbed the pistol out of the quivering hand of Dr. Von Helsinger and pointed it at Morris. Without hesitation, he shot him in the heart.

Morris dropped to his knees, a look of shock on his face. Godalming kept his gun pointed at his victim’s chest as the other man fell. Morris held out his arms in surrender, and I thought that Arthur was going to fire again, but he did not. He just continued to point the gun at Morris, and by the time the rest of that man’s body crumpled to the ground, his eyes were closed and his once powerful form, lifeless.

John Seward raced to Morris, ripping open his vest and shirt to get to the wound, oblivious to the blood that gushed out of his chest. He tore the shirt apart, exposing the wound, a garish hole marring the perfection of Morris’s youthful body.

“Dear God,” Seward said, and I felt his helplessness.