It was a most dreadful business, running a Sanitarium, and most considered the towering manor on the hill overlooking the quiet town of Whitby to be an inconvenience, an embarrassment, a means of dissuading Londoners from venturing into their quiet existence. Dr. Seward was not well respected for his medical abilities, which had waned since he had taken over the institution. It was much too difficult to continue to study recent medical journals and attempt to keep a hundred or so insane patients in hand, so he was behind his peers when it came to medical advancements. Seward was not an overly patient man, nor did much of anything seem to bother him apart from chaos in the midst of a storm. This one had come up unexpectedly, appearing in the skies over the channel in the late afternoon and rapidly transforming into a foul wind.
Overwhelmed, he was relieved when his daughter's complacent face appeared in the midst of the flickering lights. There was no one the patients were fonder of, for she catered to their whims and soothed their fears, but he could not help launching a complaint as she hurried after him. "Lucy, we've got our work cut out for us." He dodged the nearest inmate, who wandered past staring into the great heights of the house, and started down the wrought iron staircase with his daughter trailing on his heels, a vision in white lace.
Tolerance was one of her many virtues and Lucy was accustomed to her father's brash statements. "I'm sorry, Poppa, but Mina isn't feeling at all well tonight." The railing glided beneath her fingertips, cold to the touch as she came to the landing. She could see Annie pushing her way through the crowd toward them bearing a bundle in her arms. The baby's cries were lost in the frenzy of the storm.
"I know she's our friend," her father shouted, "but really, Mina's never feeling very well!"
It was not that he disliked Mina so much as that she was too much of a distraction for his daughter. He hoped her presence in the house would convince Lucy she did not need to attend law school, but having her around only seemed to embolden Lucy's determination. Mina made no attempts to calm Lucy's wild and impetuous nature. It might have been better had she stayed away.
Lucy looked at him rather crossly and said, "Now Father, that's not fair. We invited her for her health and we have to look after her!"
She turned to Annie as the woman came forward, babbling incoherently about her child, and removed the baby from her arms. It was soft and warm, its red face wrinkled into an everlasting howl. Why no one had taken the babe permanently away from her mother remained a mystery, but Annie would put up such a fuss when she did not have her infant that they had conceded that she was not a bad mother, however mad, and it was easiest just to let her be. Drawing the bundle against her chest, Lucy crooned, "Oh, it can't be as bad as that!"
Against the thunder and lightning that assailed the coast was a distinct, shrill sound, a warning to the ships lost at sea. Annie started screaming about bells and Swales muttered something about sunken ships, but Lucy said it was nothing and went back to rocking the child. There was a window down the hall, barred to prevent any fool from attempting to throw themselves out of it, and she approached it, little knowing that Mina repeated the gesture in their room, her wide eyes staring into the gloom.
The cause of the disturbance was not visible at first but then amidst the rain running down the cold glass in front of her she could make out the helm of a ship as it crashed into the rocks. She pressed her hands against the glass, longing to see more than the haze would allow. The froth of the waves and the ghostly appearance of the ship were surreal. It was calling to her, a primal instinct that began in her soul and flowed into her blood, an intense response to a cry not comprehended by human senses. No longer able to deny her urge, Mina turned and fled down the poorly lit corridors, calling out for Dr. Seward. "Lucy?" she whispered plaintively in the lower hall, but there was no answer. Everyone was in the east wing with the patients.
Lightening illuminated the corridor, casting her eerie reflection in the nearest mirror; she was pale, hair wild, eyes burning with fascination as she heard it, a whisper so deep and sensuous in her mind that it could not be resisted. Had she more common sense she would have gone into the ward in search of companions but the sanitarium frightened her. Her first night there she had encountered one of the madmen on the stairs and his glassy stare had caused a lapse of illness. Caressing the knob of the front door, Mina thought of the storm outside and hesitated but such desire came over her that she pulled it open and ran out into the rain. Her white nightgown trailed behind her, fluttering among the tombstones as she hastened through the cemetery toward the path that led down the rocky cliffs onto the beach. The ground was muddy and she slipped, cutting her fingers on the sharp rocks but not quite losing her balance. She could see the outline of the sail in the gloom, the wind whipping its torn length and sending the bow crashing into the reef.
The sound of splintering wood was nearly lost in the rage of the storm as Mina paused to observe. She drew in great gasping breaths, flooding her lungs with the cold, salty taste of the sea. Fear took hold of her as she saw in the darkness on the deck of the schooner a massive, looming shape that transformed into a wolf. Its eyes penetrated her with such intensity she could not move as it leapt into the sea and swam to shore. The enormous, shaggy head turned toward her and again she saw its eyes, but instead of fear this time she experienced curiosity. Leaving paw prints in the sand, the wolf ran into the looming caverns she had explored with Lucy in their younger years. One summer had been spent here before Mrs. Seward's death and the girls had entertained no end of adventures in the caves, from being kidnapped by evil pirates to finding buried treasure. It felt different to her now as she entered them, a force driving her that she could not explain.
An eerie haze filled the caverns and she slowed as she found the wolf in the shadows. It did not move and at first she thought it dead but then realized it was not a wolf at all, but a coat trimmed in fur, covering the long contours of a man. Her slippers slick on the rocks, unaware of the resulting pain to her tender feet, Mina stepped over the unconscious form and knelt by his side. His face remained in the shadows and she reached out to touch him but could not. Her hand hovered above his shoulder and floated down to where his angular fingers rested. The ground was cold but even more shocking was his hand as it closed over hers, the fingers moving with slow grace and poise. A chill passed over her and was replaced by gratifying warmth as he looked up at her. Never before had she seen such a man, so exquisitely handsome he took her breath away. His complexion was dark with flowing waves of thick black hair falling into a pair of such penetrating brown eyes that she feared she might drown in them. Long lashes fell, removing her from the strength of his gaze and his hand relaxed around hers. Mina felt a rush of panic as she realized he was unconscious once more. She touched the side of his face hesitantly and looked up as voices and echoing footsteps rippled through the cavern. Lucy had seen her from the window of the sanitarium and came at a run, Swales on her heels.
"Mina!" The chastisement halted on Lucy's lips as she caught sight of the man resting at her feet. Lifting the lantern higher, she allowed the light to play across his pale features and the fur rippling around him.
Though Mina was reluctant to leave him, she went to Lucy's side and pressed against her, welcoming the warmth of the lantern as she realized how cold she was. "I found him here," she whispered, but was strangely unable to remember what she had seen. "There was a … a great black dog…"
More lanterns were flickering behind them, falling into the caves as the townspeople came to the rescue of the poor souls on board the ship. This was the only survivor to wash up on shore. He came around with faces leaning over him, the girls in the background. Lucy wrapped a coat around Mina that she had torn from the closet on her way out of the asylum but could not remove her attention from the stranger as he rose to his feet. The murmur of his voice came to them but they could not hear all he said.
"Someone should send for Dr. Seward," said a voice in the crowd.
He had no desire to be fussed over and examined, reaching out a hand and saying in a voice so rich and warm it caused a tremor to pass through all the women present, "I am quite all right. One learns in Romania not to not bother with trifles. Ah, I see my manservant has come to take me to Carfax." He indicated the short figure of Renfield standing at a slight distance and moved through their ranks with such elegance they turned in awe to watch him. Though he did not approach the women, he looked toward them for a lingering instant before passing out into the storm, Renfield hurrying to keep up with his magnificent stride.
"He is the most handsome man I have ever seen," Mina whispered.
There was indeed something powerful about him, a presence unequaled by any of the men she had ever known. Lucy had encountered many in her time but had never been drawn so strongly to a complete stranger. It frightened and disarmed her, causing anger to rise in her soul for the weakness of her will. She must think of Jonathan. Placing her arm around Mina, with less force than she had hoped to muster, Lucy said, "Let us go in."
In the darkness, the path seemed more lonely and treacherous now, the house looming against grim skies as the storm lessened its fury. Mina was oblivious to the chill in her bones until she reached their room and the fireside. Leaving her coat on a nearby chair, she shivered and approached the hearth, staring into the flames. All she could see in them was his gaze, so wondrous and penetrating that she felt he had seen into her soul. Her fingers tightened and pressed against her heart, lost in the swirling memory of his presence until Lucy said, "Oh, you have cut yourself!"
Looking down in surprise, Mina found a ribbon of blood coating her fingertips. "I did not even feel it," she said. Flames crackled behind her, shifting as the coal settled in the grate. She held out her hand to Lucy, who dampened a cloth in the washbasin and carefully wiped away the blood. The cuts were not deep and no longer bled when she had cleaned them.
"You are too tenderhearted, Mina," she gently admonished. "You may catch pneumonia because of this. Did you see him on the beach? Is that why you left the house?"
Mina touched her throat, groping for the simple golden cross that normally hung there, but she had removed it before bed and felt nothing but damp lace. "I must have known he was there," she reasoned, her voice filled with doubt. She could not explain what had driven her to leave the house or why she had not been frightened in the rage of the storm. Rising from the floor onto her knees, she clutched desperately at her friend's hand. "I did see him, didn't I, Lucy?" she pleaded. Surely it was not the madness returning, the endless nights of her childhood in which she had walked in her sleep. Her father had found her in the den, the study, even in the front hall pulling at the latch in an effort to get out. It had scared him enough to put servants to watching her in the event she came to harm.
"I am sure you did, and he is fortunate, for he might have drowned in those caves." Lucy assisted Mina out of her wet things into another nightgown. Mina crawled into bed and turned her head into the pillow. Her companion lowered the lamps but did not immediately join her, kneeling on the hearth to stir the flames. It felt strangely cold to her, overwhelmed with the memory of what they had found in the caverns. She looked soberly at the box on the mantle that held Jonathan's letters and reached up for it. Holding his correspondence, she pressed it against her heart. It was Jonathan she should be thinking of, whose return would be heralded with such happiness, who promised to assist her in fulfilling her dreams. Lucy looked toward Mina and knew she did not sleep, that behind closed eyes her mind was working frantically at the details of recent hours, for she too was curious about the newcomer in their midst. Mina should earn the interest of the Count, for she had the most need of it. So why did Lucy feel the slightest hint of jealousy? It was an emotion unfamiliar to her, one that never invaded her relationship with Jonathan. Their affection was passionate and deep, a love she felt certain would grow with experience and time. Everyone spoke highly of the match and believed them equals, but there was no excitement with Jonathan, nothing alluring or mysterious. He demanded nothing from her but kisses: playful, lingering kisses rather than conversation, as if he would much rather her lips were on his than engaged in revealing the nature of her thoughts.
She looked down at the letter, reading his striking penmanship in the firelight, and rebelled against his flattery. She held it toward the flames, halting as confusion overtook her. Something in her wanted her to burn it, to drop it onto the fire and watch it curl into ash, but she could not. Returning it to the decorative box on the mantle, Lucy drew her dressing gown closer about her shoulders and returned to the sanitarium. Working helped her focus, to not think as much about the eerie ship broken up against the rocks or the strange man that had awoken such an unusual desire within her soul.