Chapter III
Grayson signaled for the carriage to stop. He sighed heavily, toying mindlessly with his cane, and instructed Renfield to get down. In few quick steps, the lawyer was able to intercept the woman now crossing the street in a hurry.
"Miss Murray, how nice to see you again," he solicitously uttered, taking his hat off and effectively blocking any way of escape for Mina, with his large bulk.
"How do you do, Mr. Reinfeld?" was the terse response he received. A hint of alarm was fleetingly visible in Mina's eyes, but in Renfield's opinion, she beautifully mastered to control every quivering fiber of her body. Today especially, he thought with a tinge of pity, she seemed to display an even more unnaturally hard expression, deforming her gentle features, and making her suddenly look older, with a sad, weary quality to the whole of her demeanor.
He eyed the woman with a gentle smile, trying to convey his sympathy for her predicament, albeit the futility of the attempt was dreadfully evident to him. His counterpart purposefully avoided his inquiring stare.
"Sorry to distract you from your errands, Miss Murray, but my employer wishes to have a word with you. He's waiting for you, if you would be so kind to accompany me to his carriage," he stated with a gesture towards the other side of the street.
"I don't have time for your employer today," she announced in a somber tone, a queasy trembling pouring unconsciously into her words.
"I have received orders to bring you to him. Please, Miss Murray, let's not have a scene in the middle of the street," he pleaded now with her in an almost beseeching voice, glancing at her entreatingly.
With the look of a trapped, frightened animal, Mina made a startled move sideways to circumvent the sizeable bulk in front of her, but Renfield was quick to grab her arm and whisper into her ear, "Please, follow me now." With a determined, tight grip dragging her on, she didn't have much choice but to walk briskly towards the carriage stationed a few feet away. Renfield opened quickly the door, and she was helped inside by a gloved hand that emerged from the obscure interior of the vehicle.
She took a seat opposite Alexander Grayson. That cursed name had had time to resonate in her mind for the last fifteen days, like a mantra, like a scourge, and always possessed the uncanny ability of provoking a decided wavering in her voice.
In a conscious effort, she willed herself to show composure in the face of everything the beast in front of her had just done to the rest of her life."Good morning, Mr. Grayson," she greeted with the last of her strength, lowering unwittingly her head and biting her lip in an ineffectual attempt to maintain a certain measure of control over her frenzied heart.
"Miss Murray, it's such a pleasure that you have accepted to see me," Alexander responded with a husky voice and a gracious grin, while indolently stroking his cane and staring at her with the most impudent look. He desired her now more than ever, after tasting her supple flesh just a fortnight ago.
"I felt I didn't have a choice, really," she answered with a brief, defiant glance, a very sad expression dancing ephemerally in the depth of her eyes.
Alexander chuckled. "Yes, I know that I have been remiss of you, but I have had to act in the most circumspect of ways." He kept languidly stroking his cane in an even, sensual motion, which for a moment was hypnotic to Mina. She couldn't help but stare at the shifting of those strong hands, strangely suggestive of the more sensuous actions she had been recently the recipient of, and she hated herself for daring to have that thought, so improper, so out of place under the circumstances.
"You look very fetching today, Miss Murray. Is that a new hat?" Grayson smiled at her endearingly, with a slight upturn of the side of his mouth.
Startled by the voice, the woman recoiled from her reverie and readily looked up. Her eyes finally met Alexander's for a mesmeric long moment. Then she lowered her gaze and started minutely trembling, burying her head further in the collar of her coat.
Alexander was apparently oblivious of the discomfort she was experiencing. He kept looking at her with a blazing stare, and seemed unable to avert his eyes from the delectable picture she was painting today, now that she was alone again and at his complete mercy. On this day especially, more than on any other occasion in which he had been following her, contenting himself with peering at her from afar, he detected a delicious new quality to her demeanor.
To his closer inspection, she shone as if polished, refined in her essence; she seemed more translucent, as if light had whitened her essence and could now penetrate her shell and make her glitter with a more reliable hue. She felt truer and brighter to him, today. And he knew he couldn't love her more than at that precise point in time: he desired this new Ilona, this fresh iteration of his lost wife, with all her demure fragility, with all her newfound, brittle delicacy, that only begged to be devoured again.
Silence was broken at last, when Grayson asked, in a nonchalant tone, "Miss Murray, have you heard of the offer I just made to your beloved fiancé?" He kept a penetrating stare fixed on the woman, as to gauge her most minute reactions. Mina felt like one of her probe subjects, mercilessly placed under a microscope for perusal, and unable to hide in that caged, suffocating space, so close to such a despicable person, who seemed not to have any mercy left for her.
Her mouth felt dry, and she was sure her cheeks were on flame. Swallowing deliberately a couple of times, she found the courage to answer. "Mr. Grayson, I only wish you would leave Jonathan and me alone. We don't want to have anything to do with you." The whole sentence was delivered in a much more demure, frightened tone than she had intended to, and again, she hated herself for it.
Alexander chortled lightly. He leisurely slid the gloves off his hands, and stroked his moustache, the corner of his mouth upturned in a complacent grin and his head cocked to one side. "That's not the answer I received from Mr. Harker. He's an ambitious young man, and was eager to come and start working for me right away. He will go places, I guarantee you that."
"Oh, I didn't know he had already accepted," Mina blurted half to herself, without thinking, the news taking her by surprise.
"Trouble in paradise, Miss Murray?" Alexander asked deviously, one eyebrow raised in feigned astonishment.
Tears were now filling up in Mina's eyes. She hadn't been more beautiful than at that point to Alexander. She summoned all the courage she had left to make a final plea. "You cannot have him work for you! Please, Mr. Grayson," she said in a wretched tone, lowering again her stare and gazing pointedly at a precise spot on her dress, "this is just too shameful…" She began weeping quietly.
"Dear Miss Murray, it seems you have a few secrets you haven't told yet your betrothed." Grayson was now positively brimming with glee.
"You're a vile, vile creature! It's outrageous what you have done to me, really beastly! And you remain there, sitting calmly and laughing at me!" Her chest was heaving wildly, while more quiet tears were shed.
Alexander extended a hand and grasped one of hers with vehemence. She didn't protest. "Please, Ilona, stop crying," he uttered in a surprisingly broken voice. "I'm not laughing at you," he said, his heart in unexpected turmoil. "You don't have to worry. This is our secret." The words coming from the odious man were strangely soothing to Mina. Maybe it was his deep tone of voice, maybe it was the electric, strong grip he was maintaining on her hand. "I won't tell anyone about us: this particular arrangement suits me just fine for now." He moved to sit beside her, suddenly crowding her space, and making breathing even more difficult for her.
His scent was assaulting her senses again, like a blanket of familiar, albeit conflicting, memories; when Grayson passed a large, heavy hand through her hair, she sighed deeply, if in fear or desire, she could not tell. She just suddenly felt bereaved of any will of her own, as if the demon now breathing on her neck had sucked away her capacity for forming a judgment. She felt naked in front of Alexander Grayson, like a blank slate he could fill at will with his own desires.
"You are my Ilona, I don't want to see you cry," he whispered in her ear.
"Please, don't call me that!"
"What do you want to be called, then?" he asked with a soothing voice, like a parent talking to a small child, pressing his body even more tightly against hers.
She couldn't answer, because in the meanwhile a sneaky hand had started insinuating itself between her legs, massaging her calf sensuously, and then pushing her skirt out of the way with a swift movement. Grayson fumbled with her undergarments in the most obscene of ways, until he could caress voluptuously her private regions. Two fingers suddenly penetrated her, and Mina gasped. Their even, repetitive motion was most pleasurable and left her without breath. Her hands tried feebly to take hold of Alexander's arms, to push him away, to impede this ulterior soiling, this further shame. But their grasp was weak and unsure. Finally, a satisfied, long moan escaped Mina's lips.
Grayson was fast to retire his wandering limb and to lower back her dress. He just stayed close to her, holding her securely with both arms, his head reposing on her wildly pounding chest. It was soothing to him to hear again his beloved Ilona's heartbeat, rhythmically fuelling every fiber of his body with the will to live again, to rebuild a life with the love of his life. For that precious moment, nothing mattered to him more than this, to have his woman reunited with him: not the Order, not the vengeance he had been so carefully planning, not even his cursed transformation into the disgusting beast he had become. He forgot, for an endless instant, everything.
He was called back to reality by a wild push from Mina, who fiercely disentangled herself from him and, collecting her books, opened the carriage door. Grayson didn't hinder her frantic moves, and just quickly signaled with his cane for Renfield to stop the coach.
In a blink of an eye, she was gone. Alexander mourned bitterly the loss of her warm flesh, a wistful glance following her receding unsteadily along the street.
Mina didn't know where she was going: she just ran with the sole aim to put as much distance as possible between her and that infernal carriage and its abominable owner. Her vision blurred, she couldn't recognize anything familiar in the surroundings. Fortunately for her, the chauffeur had been driving more or less in circles around the neighborhood she lived in, so after calming herself down to some extent, she was able to discover with relief that she was just a few blocks away from Jonathan's lodgings. She didn't know if he had already left for work, but hoped with all her forces to find him still at home. With a more determinate gait, she approached the building and flew up the stairs, her heart bouncing uncontrollably inside her chest.
Upon reaching the last floor, she tried to recompose herself: Jonathan couldn't see her in such a frantic state. Rearranging her hair and dress, she took a few deep breaths and knocked on the door.
Jonathan Harker was hasty to kiss her affectionately on the cheek, ushering her in. "What a nice surprise, Mina! I need to rush off to my new job. I was meaning to talk to you about it, but not now, I don't have the time." The whole of his demeanor was positively brimming.
Mina eyed him guardedly. "I want to talk with you too, about something very, very important." Mina's face was unquestionably serious. She just hoped Jonathan would not dismiss her next words like another flight of fancy of a nervous bride-to-be. "Why didn't you tell me you had already accepted Mr. Grayson's offer?" She minutely trembled at the utterance of that odious name, but tried to keep her composure and stared at Jonathan with an inquiring glance.
"How do you know that?" was her fiancé's startled response.
"It doesn't matter how I know. Why didn't you tell me?" she now repeated more gently.
"Oh Mina, let's not start with this again! You don't have to worry your pretty little head with such matters." He drew closer to her, to caress her face, but Mina took a step back and avoided the touch with a half-concealed grimace of annoyance and impatience. She kept staring at him with a most resolute look, tinged with a flicker of fury, for the dismissive words just used by her fiancé.
"Jonathan, you cannot accept that job! You don't know what kind of person is your new employer. He is dangerous." The last words were delivered in a subdued tone, full of sudden sadness.
"And how do you know it?" Harker lifted his eyebrows in mild surprise.
Mina's eyes shifted nervously around the room. She then looked up again, staring pointedly at Jonathan. "I just sense it. You cannot trust him. Please, Jonathan, believe me. I fear something very bad will happen if you start working with him. He's an American. Nobody knows anything of his enterprises… or of what he really is…" She gazed at him expectantly, unwilling to say anything more compromising.
"Poor silly Mina," Harker answered playfully, chuckling lightly. "You always worry too much for me. But in this you need to trust me: this is the best thing that could have happened to us!"
"Oh, Jonathan, please listen to me!"
"No, you listen to me." He walked closer and grabbed one of her hands, staring at her fixedly. "I'm going to be paid a magnificent salary. And Mr. Grayson has already provided a new, splendid house for me. For us, Mina. Now we can finally get married in a few months," he smiled sweetly at her. "And you will not need to go on with your nonsense about becoming a physician. Now I will be able to support you as you deserve," he finished with a distinct tinge of pride in his voice.
Mina paled perceptibly. "What do you mean? Is my work a hindrance to your success?"
"No, you know I didn't mean that," Harker uttered in a bothered tone, shaking his head. "But you always misunderstand me: I mean that now you can be a proper wife, without having to mix yourself in some business that is not really for your kind."
Mina's head started spinning. She had difficulty to find words for a proper retort. Too many things were jumbling around in her confused mind. Jonathan was demeaning her and her aspirations; Jonathan was going to work for the beast who had made her life a living hell, and she herself was standing there, almost paralyzed now that the last events were finally sinking in, in her fiancé's chambers, which was very, very indecorous for a proper lady, and just a few minutes after another shameful encounter with the bane of her life, with her own personal nemesis.
She felt suddenly defeated.
With an uncertain step, she went to sit down on the opposite sofa. Jonathan was beside her in a moment. "Mina, do you feel unwell?"
"No, no, don't worry," she quickly responded, a faint grin plastered on her face. She resolutely decided it was imperative to leave those quarters at once. She was suffocating and needed to breathe again at ease. That room was stifling her, and so was the judgmental presence of the man in front of her. "Sorry, Jonathan, I was being overly cautious. You are right; think nothing of what I said. Do forgive me, will you?" she quickly added, attempting with her voice and demeanor to convey acquiescence. She forced a sweet smile on her features.
Jonathan appeared easily convinced. He grinned at her and announced, "You'll see, Mina! Everything will be fine, I'm sure of it!"
Mina nodded with the most credible expression she could come up with, anxious to be rid of Jonathan and again out on the streets. After a few more assurances and pledges of eternal love, the couple quickly separated, Mina adducing a pressing engagement at the University.
Rushing down the stairs, she delighted for an instant in her newfound freedom. She breathed purposefully the morning air, as if it was the first time she had breathed at all in her life. A gripping rush filled her body: she thought with sudden clarity that this new sensation had a specific name.
It was called forlornness.
Yes, that was the word. She smiled at herself, almost childishly, satisfied to have found at last a suitable definition for her condition. She looked at herself as she would have done with a brand new specimen in her laboratory, cataloguing the symptoms, filing the effects of her disease in her analytical mind. It was liberating.
She recognized she had became a new person, since that dreadful night in which she had lain in shame with Alexander Grayson, with that fearsome creature who had changed her forever, and it had come the time to finally embrace that novel condition. It was a deformity, a sickness that now pervaded every fiber of her being; this black stain made her essentially different from anybody else in this world. She was now an abomination, a terrible blend of everything despicable, and had no right to expect to consort innocently with any other normal human being.
Poor Jonathan wanted still to marry her, but only because he couldn't see her true, appalling self. And she had tried to entrap him, with her silence. Her life had become a wicked web of lies, of subterfuges. But it had come the time to be true to herself, at least.
Walking briskly and absently towards her home, she recognized this new quality of her core self and rejoiced in the brutality of her limpid gaze. She didn't have anybody to count on for help, for support, not even Jonathan, especially not Jonathan, and she didn't deserve anybody, because she had become a monster.
She laughed a little crazily at the thought to have to walk this dreadful existence devoid of the comfort of gentle words and caring persons, but she wasn't worthy of anything better.
At that moment, she decided to marry her Jonathan. The thought came to her in a crystal-clear fashion. He didn't really love her, and wanted to cage her in the life he had prepared for her; he despised her a little, and mocked her every attempt at betterment. He mistrusted and belittled her capacity of reasoning, and thought of her like a pretty toy to decorate his new house, his new station in life.
But she was no better. She had lied and deceived everybody in these last frightful days. So she deserved Jonathan's contempt, even though he was never to learn the real reasons for his justified disdain.
He was going to be her penance, she decided fatalistically, and she was going to be his. She would marry Jonathan and they would live together, unhappily ever after.