“Where the hell are we?” demanded Raven.
“What does it look like?” asked Lisa.
“Cold and damp,” he replied. “Exactly the way it feels.” He turned to his left. “Can’t say much for the interior decorator. Damned place is nothing but one huge stone block after another.”
He took a deep breath through his nose. “And it smells like . . . I dunno . . . like death warmed over.”
“You’ll get used to it,” said Lisa. Then she shrugged. “Or you won’t.”
He stared at her. “You know,” he said, “about thirty seconds ago, you were a pudgy, mustachioed sidekick, and before that you were an absolutely beautiful young woman.”
“And now?” she asked.
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“An ugly hunchbacked dwarf.”
She nodded. “It goes with my name . . . or at least the name you’ll call me by while we’re in this milieu.”
“Let me guess,” said Raven. “Igor?”
She gave him a nearly toothless smile. “Right.”
“And I’m Dracula?”
“Looking like that, you’d damned well better be,” she said with another smile, neither of which did anything to humanize her ugly, misshapen face.
“Okay,” said Raven. “Don Quixote had a quest. Robin Hood had a challenge. What the hell has Dracula got?”
“I should think that would be obvious,” said Lisa.
“Maybe to the Mistress of Illusions,” said Raven. “But not to someone who’s been a vampire for less than two minutes.”
“Your job, plainly put, is to survive.”
“Alone in this castle?” he said, frowning. “Should be a piece of cake, as long as I don’t freeze to death.”
She gestured for him to walk over and join her by a window, where she pointed down at the ground. Literally hundreds of townspeople carrying torches and spears were climbing the curving path that led up to the castle.
“Oh, shit!” muttered Raven. He looked around the barren chamber. “What kind of weapons do we have?”
“Dracula needs no weapons,” said Lisa.
“Maybe Bram Stoker’s Dracula didn’t need any weapons, but Manhattan’s Eddie Raven sure as hell does!” he shot back.
“Manhattan’s Eddie Raven is going to have to improvise,” she answered.
“Just between you and me . . .” he began.
“Who else is there?” she replied.
“Just between you and me, what possible purpose is served by me being a vampire?”
“It teaches you to adjust,” she said. “We don’t know what lies ahead when you’re finally ready for your mission—which, I should add, is not that far off. Our job is to prepare you for it.”
“And being a blood-sucking member of the undead helps make me ready?”
She shrugged. “It might. There are things even the Mistress of Illusions doesn’t know.”
“You could help, you know,” said Raven.
“I am helping.”
“You could have disarmed the Knight of the White Moon and saved me the trouble. I mean, hell, you’re the Mistress of Illusions. You could have solved damned near every problem I’ve been faced with.”
“To what purpose?” she shot back.
“What?” he half shouted in surprise.
“How would that have prepared you?”
“Prepared me for what?” he demanded.
For just a few seconds she was Lisa again, and she looked straight into his eyes. “For what you must do,” she said. “And you must do it alone. That’s why neither Rofocale nor I nor anyone else can help you now. We don’t know what you’ll be facing, just that it’s of a far greater magnitude than anything you’ve faced so far—indeed, than anybody has ever faced—and you have to be ready for it, as ready as we can make you, anyway.” She sighed deeply. “That’s why you’re not a warrior, or a sorcerer, or a hunter in every encounter.”
“Okay,” said Raven. “So what’s expected of me as a vampire?”
They could suddenly hear the screams of the enraged townspeople approaching the castle, and in that instant she became Igor once again.
“I should have thought the answer to your question would be obvious,” she replied. “Survive!”
He stared at her without answering, then looked down at the crowd again. An elderly man was being escorted to the front door, and he was instantly joined by a well-dressed young man and woman. The rest of the assemblage held back.
“That figures,” said Raven.
She frowned. “You know them?”
“I don’t know anyone,” he replied. “We’re all fictional, remember?”
“But you spoke as if you recognized them.”
“To this extent: If I’m Dracula, then I know who they have to be, whether they’re Bram Stoker’s creations or not.”
“And who are they?”
“The three people most closely associated with Dracula,” replied Raven. “The older one’s got to be Van Helsing, and the couple are Jonathan and Mina Harker.” He paused and frowned. “At least she’ll become Mina Harker by the end of the book, or if I let her live.” A humorless smile crossed his misshapen face. “Doubtless they’re here to talk sense into me.”
“I’d better go greet them and escort them up here,” said Lisa. “We don’t want them to think anything’s wrong or different.”
“No,” he agreed as she began hurrying toward the stone staircase. “After all, we’re delighted to play host to people who want to kill us.” He glanced out the window again. “You’re just damned lucky I don’t have a few cauldrons of boiling whatever to pour over the side of the roof.”
“Don’t get so taken by your role,” she said. “Remember, it is just a role.”
Suddenly he frowned. “Stop!” he snapped.
She froze. “What is it?”
“It’s 1897. They haven’t seen any of the movies.”
“I don’t understand, Eddie. What are you talking about?”
“I’ve actually read the damned book. A long time ago, to be sure, but it’s coming back to me—and there’s no Igor in it. Hollywood swiped him from the Frankenstein novel thirty or forty years later.”
“Then who—?” she began, puzzled.
“Renfield,” he answered. “Late fifties, built like a defensive lineman, crazy as a loon.”
And instantly, in Igor’s place, he was facing the Renfield that Bram Stoker had painstakingly described back in 1897.
Raven nodded his reluctant approval of her appearance. “Okay,” he said. “Go greet our guests and bring them up here. And if possible, close and lock the door once they’re inside the damned castle.”
“Yes, Dracula,” she said, scurrying down the remaining stairs and rushing up to the massive door. It took all her strength to swing the portal open enough for Van Helsing and the Harkers to pass through it. She wanted to ask for help closing and bolting it, but then she remembered what she now looked like, and she didn’t want to arouse any further suspicions, so she put every ounce of strength she possessed into it and slowly, gradually swung the door shut.
“The count is awaiting you,” she said to Van Helsing and the Harkers. “Please follow me.”
The four of them climbed the stairs while Raven positioned himself against a library wall, rested his outstretched arms on the shelves, and waited for them. They entered the room a moment later.
“We meet again,” said Van Helsing gruffly.
“You’re panting,” noted Raven. “Those are a lot of stairs for a used-up old man, especially one who has been traveling most of the day to get here. Sit down and relax.”
Van Helsing seemed about to spit out a caustic reply, thought better of it, and seated himself on a leather chair.
“Welcome back, Jonathan,” said Raven. “And this must be Mina.”
He nodded a greeting to her. She glanced quickly at Harker, evidently saw some sign of approval, and nodded her greeting.
“I hope you found the trip comfortable,” said Raven. “Except, of course, for the company.”
“You could use pavement,” she replied.
“That would just encourage visitors,” answered Raven. “And speaking of visitors, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
“We have serious matters to discuss,” said Van Helsing.
“You mean you haven’t come here to amuse me with the latest jokes you picked up in the local tavern?” said Raven, feeling rather pleased with himself until he saw Lisa frown and quickly shake her head when no one was watching her.
Why the hell not? thought Raven. I’m not going to drink anyone’s lifeblood or kill anyone, but they don’t know that, so why not tease the old man and pretend to lust for the young lady and otherwise act the way they would expect a villain to act?
“You seem to have some unhappy townspeople lining the road to your castle,” said Harker.
“Unhappy is an understatement,” added Mina.
Raven smiled. “Is it my fault that I have indoor plumbing and they don’t?”
“That’s not what they seemed annoyed about,” said Harker. “I think it may have something to do with your diet.”
“What would they know about my diet?” Raven shot back. “I never patronize the local restaurants.”
“Enough of this foolishness!” growled Van Helsing. “You’re a vampire, and you’ve been feeding off the populace and unknowing visitors and travelers for years!”
“Have you ever heard of the science of genetics?” asked Raven.
“Of course.”
“Neither of my parents, no one in my family, was a vampire,” said Raven. “How does that jibe with your knowledge of genetics and inheritance?”
“It means you are every bit as much a genetic freak as the physical freak you appear to be,” said Van Helsing.
“Let me ask you one more question, based on your supposed knowledge of vampires and vampirism,” said Raven.
“Go ahead.”
“Do you think that you and Harker together could subdue me in the next few minutes if it comes down to a physical battle?”
“You know we could not,” said Van Helsing.
“Good!” said Raven. “Renfield, bring our guests some wine or whatever else they may want.” Lisa headed off to what he assumed was the wine cellar, and he turned back to van Helsing. “I hope you’ve been enjoying our country. It still requires some civilizing and some landscaping and some governing, but it’s certainly more livable than some.”
“It is littered with too many graves,” said Van Helsing.
“I hope you’re not going to suggest that I am responsible for them all.”
“Are you?”
I wish to hell I knew. “Probably not,” said Raven.
“What are your future plans?” asked Van Helsing. “I know that you’ve asked Mr. Harker here to find you a suitable dwelling in the British countryside.”
“There’s more to see and do there,” answered Raven.
“And drink?” asked Van Helsing.
Lisa reentered the chamber just then.
“Ah!” said Raven. “Speaking of drink, here come yours.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” said Van Helsing.
“You noticed,” said Raven. He walked over, took the tray from Lisa, and approached his three guests, allowing them to choose the bottle of wine they wanted, then poured each a glass and moved on to the next one.
“None for yourself?” asked Harker, as he set the tray down on a table.
“I don’t drink . . . wine,” said Raven. Damn! It’s almost worth going through all this shit to be able to utter that line!
“You’re smiling, Count,” said Mina.
“A happy thought,” he replied.
“Of torture and bloodshed?” asked Van Helsing.
“Only limited to people who annoy me,” answered Raven, feeling that he finally had control of the conversation.
“Then we’d best get down to business,” said Harker.
Raven resisted the urge to say “Shoot!” and merely stared at him.
“A South American party is interested in purchasing an authentic castle in this country,” said Harker. “Since I assume you’ll soon be moving to England, I was wondering if you’d be interested in entering a transaction for this place?”
“I don’t know if I’ll be staying in England,” said Raven. On the other hand, who knows how long I’ll stay in this identity? “But sure, I’d be happy to consider an offer.”
“Including the surrounding area?” asked Harker.
“If I legally own it.”
“How about the rotting corpses inside the castle?” asked Van Helsing.
Raven stared at him. “Were you always this unpleasant?”
Van Helsing shook his head. “Only since I discovered that vampires really and truly walked the Earth.”
I’d love to correct you and say that actually we fly across the Earth, but you’d probably believe me.
Raven turned back to Harker. “Bring your offer in writing.”
“Have you an attorney?”
“Just bring it to me.”
“Yes, Count.”
“So much for my business with Mr. Harker,” said Raven. “Now, Mr. Van Helsing, what can I do for you, besides die a loud and agonizing death in front of you?”
“Actually, that would be quite sufficient,” said Van Helsing, and Raven couldn’t resist a chuckle.
“If I should feel it coming on anytime before you leave, which I trust will be soon now, I will certainly give you a few seconds’ warning.”
Van Helsing returned his smile. “And people say that vampires aren’t thoughtful.”
“Only the British side is thoughtful,” said Raven.
“I’ve checked you out thoroughly,” said Van Helsing. “You don’t have any British blood.”
“Well, there you have it,” replied Raven.
They spoke, uncomfortably on the part of his visitors, and when Raven gave them no further encouragement to talk, they finally got to their feet and said their farewells, with Harker promising to return in a day or two with the proposed offer, and Van Helsing hinting that he would be back when he was finally prepared to make sure there was one less vampire walking the Earth.
Lisa, in her Renfield identity, led them down the stairs and laboriously opened the massive door for them. Exhausted, she leaned against the huge portal, and as she did so, with her back to the door and facing the interior of the castle, three large men armed with spears and swords walked right in, took a brief look around, and began racing up the stone staircase.
Lisa wanted to warn Raven, but she realized that her primary duty at the moment was to close the door before anyone else could sneak in, and she threw herself into the chore.
Raven was standing alone in the now-empty chamber, studying the wine and wondering how it tasted. He picked up a bottle, held it to his lips, then made a face and put it back down.
Great, he thought. I really am a vampire. I hope this test ends before I get so hungry or thirsty that I have to down a pint of blood.
“So there you are!” growled a voice from the doorway.
Raven looked across the room and found himself facing the three burly men who’d entered the castle a moment earlier.
“What can I do for you gentlemen?” he asked. “And I use the word advisedly.”
“You can die!” bellowed the closest one.
Raven smiled. “You’re too late.”
The man cursed and charged, wielding his sword above his head.
Raven backed up a few steps, realized that his foe was coming too fast, planted his feet, and prepared to meet the charge. He reached his right hand out for the swordsman’s wrist, though since he was outweighed by some sixty pounds of muscle he didn’t expect it to do much good—but to his surprise he had no trouble holding the arm aloft.
I wonder just how strong a vampire is . . .
He squeezed, the man screamed, and he could feel the wrist crumble into a dozen bone fragments beneath his viselike grip. He swung his other arm, connected with his opponent’s jaw, heard a loud crack, and saw the man’s body fly through the air and bounce off a brick wall.
“Okay,” said Raven. “Who’s next?”
The two remaining men exchanged troubled glances, and then charged him simultaneously. Raven took what he thought would be a quick step to the left. Instead it was a leap that carried him some twenty feet through the air.
“Halt!” he shouted.
The two men froze.
“You’ve seen what I did to your foolhardy friend. You’ve been given a hint of what I can do against the pair of you. I offer you your lives, if you agree to leave the castle right now and never return.”
The men frowned, stared at each other, and seemed torn by indecision.
“Let me help you make up your minds,” said Raven. “I will count to ten. If you are still in the room when I reach ten, I will slay you more slowly and painfully than I hope you can imagine. The decision is yours.”
Both had bolted out of the room and were racing down the stairs before he reached “Five.”
Lisa entered the room a few seconds later. She saw the remains of the first swordsman and froze.
“You did that?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Barehanded?”
“Being a vampire has its advantages,” he replied with a smile.
“Clearly,” she said.
He walked to a window and stared down at the unhappy mass of peasants and warriors.
“So did I pass the test?” he asked.