Chapter One: In Shadow
The streetlights had been on for more than an hour by the time Van Helsing emerged, yawning, from his little flat in Rome, a few blocks from the Vatican itself. Still groggy from his nap, he turned and checked the doorknob to make sure he had locked the door. Satisfied that he had, he placed an almost loving hand on the dark wooden door, and after a moment to collect his thoughts stepped away into the foggy night.
Cardinal Jinette and the other members of the Holy Order had allowed him the small flat when he had informed them of his discomfort with living in the perpetual crowd that was the headquarters of the Order. The flat was Gabriel Van Helsing's private safehaven. It was rather small for the normal domiciles of the area, which tended to be quite lavish, but Van Helsing was not attracted to lavish things. He liked the simplicity of his home; the books in their bookcase in the study just off the tiny entryway, the even tinier kitchen (he did not often cook). The two rooms off of the straight hallway—one of them his bedroom—were also small, their curtains of heavy red velvet, the windows shuttered for privacy. It was, in full, a place where he could go when he was weary and leave his troubles on the doorstep.
Well, most of them, anyway.
Unfortunately, his troubles were just beginning tonight. Cardinal Jinnette had summoned him to the Vatican for matters undisclosed, and had instructed that he be prepared for a visit to the armoury for new weapons. Van Helsing sighed as he reviewed Jinette's request in his head. If he were getting new weapons, it meant that he was also getting a new assignment. The only bright side of the situation is that he would at least be able to visit his friend, the friar Carl, who worked in the armoury as an inventor. A very successful inventor, he mused, as was learned upon their trip to Transylvania eight months ago. One of his inventions had saved their lives in the ballroom at Budapest; Dracula's "summer palace", as he had put it. His summer palace was very beautiful… and also very full of vampires. Carl's invention that produced a light equal to the intensity of the sun had been useful when there were near a hundred vampires on their heels. They had been vaporized instantly.
What the little friar lacked in physical prowess, strength, and bravery, he made up for in determination, loyalty, intelligence, and just a touch of brilliance and humour that could never be quite contained. That was why, Van Helsing supposed, that he was such a worthy friend.
He continued this way, absorbed in his thoughts, until quite suddenly he felt a jolt of something familiar, something not good, deep within him. He jerked himself out of his trance and stood very still, looking around him. He was nearly at the stair of the great building that was the Vatican, and yet there was a trace of something dark very near to him. He turned slowly in a circle, making sure nothing might be coming up behind him, and scoured every bit of darkness that he could. Finally, after a few minutes of this, he spotted something very pale that moved almost imperceptibly in the reservoir of shadow that dwelled beneath the underhangings of the buildings that surrounded the great courtyard.
Van Helsing was at a loss for what to do. His new weapons were in the armoury, and here he was, standing with something in the shadows, something he could easily approach and fight of need be. But he was unarmed; his pistol was being cleaned at the armoury; he never thought something like this would be here, so close to a holy place, and thus he hadn't had any qualms about a walk to the Vatican unarmed. He wanted to go to the armoury, get his weapons, but he feared that whatever it was might escape if he did so.
He stood in a quandary for a moment, and then his better half took over. Better to fetch your weapons and risk it getting away than be stuck in a fight with nothing to defend yourself, he thought, and nodded to himself. Casting a quick glance at the underhangings once more, he turned and mounted the steps of the great building before him. Just before he opened the doors he looked back again; whatever is was seemed to be perfectly happy where it was. Van Helsing sighed and threw open the doors, and was lost from view.
Carl Jinette was his usual self, despite the fact that he was not yet allowed to sleep. Not until Van Helsing had been briefed, of course. They were both men who adhered strictly to their duties, and tonight was no different. Van Helsing entered the confessional as he always did, and as he always did Jinette opened the secret passageway that led them to the armoury. There he told him that a creature was roaming Vatican City itself, and that Van Helsing was their best course of action to get rid of it. When asked if he knew what the creature was exactly, Cardinal Jinette could not say, only that it was reported to be a winged creature whose implements of flight were roughly fifteen feet across, and that it had a habit of swooping down and carrying people off into the night, where their mutilated bodies were later found.
"Vampire, do you think?" mused Van Helsing, hoping it wasn't.
"No. We do not think so. Vampires do not mutilate those they drink from, and none of the bodies showed any marks of a vampire's bite… from what we could tell from the bodies, of course."
"And no one was able to give a better description," said Van Helsing. It was a statement, not a question. Of course they wouldn't; that would make it too easy for him.
"Everyone who got a look at the creature is dead," hissed Jinette. "Show some respect, Gabriele!"
"But," said Van Helsing, ignoring the Cardinal's admonishment, "what about the description you do have? Someone had to be alive to tell about it."
"At the time she was alive, yes," said Jinette sadly. "An old woman, found only a block away from here. She had time to tell me what I told you before God reached out and took her home."
Van Helsing was silent. Jinette decided it was as good a time as any to lead him down to the armoury, when he left him to Friar Carl. Van Helsing seemed to brighten as Carl approached, and satisfied, Jinette took his leave.
"Hello, Van Helsing," said Carl brightly as the two clasped hands and shook vigorously. "You haven't been around the church lately, I noticed. Did Jinette give you a reprieve?"
Van Helsing smiled wryly. "Whether he wanted to or not. I think it was an errant case of good luck on my part; any lack of monsters to kill has to be some holy act or other."
"But it seems," said Carl, "that your bad luck's returned."
"So it seems," agreed Van Helsing. "It's a good thing I'm used to it." Suddenly, something struck him mind: he had not told Jinette about the thing he had seen near the steps. That was odd behaviour, even for him, to forget something like that. He turned to the friar. "Hey Carl—did Cardinal Jinette leave for the night?"
Carl nodded. "I believe he has gone off to bed. Why?"
"Nothing, no reason," Van Helsing muttered. Carl gave him a quizzical look, but when it became clear that Van Helsing was not going to say anything more about the matter, Carl led him over to the weapons he had laid out for his friend.
Half an hour later Van Helsing left the Vatican, his gun back in its holster, ammunition in the pouch on his belt (including, of course, silver bullets), two blessed daggers and a sword, and an upgraded version of the crossbow he had used on assignment in Transylvania. It felt good to be weighted down with the tools of his trade again, yet considering what the tools of his trade were, Van Helsing wondered idly if feeling pleasure to be carrying them would be considered a sin. In the end he supposed it was, and in the end he didn't really care.
As he reached the bottom of the steps that odd feeling came over him again, and, remembering, he jerked his head to the spot where he had last seen the white glimmer in the shadows. This time he thought he saw something move slightly, but he could not be sure. Drawing his pistol he crept foreward until he was about ten feet from the spot, and stood eyeing the darkness warily, listening intently. At first he heard nothing, but then…
A rustle of movement, barely perceptible to even Van Helsing's sharp hearing, and then the faint sound of laboured breathing, which often stopped for long periods of time. Van Helsing held his gun a little higher and began to close the gap between him and the shadow, expecting something to come flying out at him at any moment.
But nothing did. As Van Helsing was just reaching the underhangings, there came a brittle rasp of laughter from the dark. Van Helsing jumped back and almost fired, but got control of his jerking arm and merely tightened his finger on the trigger.
Then the voice came, soft and velvety, spoken with an accent that made Van Helsing's soul drop to the floor.
"Hello, Gabriel. Quite a sense of humour has Lucifer, dumping me on the steps of the Vatican itself, do you not think?"