Chapter Nine
He had no idea how long Mirela would be gone upstairs, but he tried his hardest not to think about the worst: the man-hunter killing his Mirela. She survived the night her first husband died, so it was guaranteed she would this time. Herbert could hear the commotion upstairs, then the door to the lab was unlocked and opened, and Mirela dragging the body down the stairs - and Dan was helping her. His eyes widened into softballs, wheezing with furious excitement, his cords itching.
At last. After a year of being in this dish...endless months of slowly dying of anger, pain and hatred, his re-agent keeping him alive and sustained but being only short-lived...Herbert's life as a disembodied head would soon be at an end. He would be reunited with Mirela, and no more Daniel to aid him in conquering death. He had enough of his protests.
Herbert watched in silence as the woman he loved and former assistant hauled the corpse onto the table, still dressed in winter garb, but even though the clothing hid the body structure from view, he could see the man had a lean build, only mildly larger than his own original thin frame. Looking at his face, hair and everything, he saw a near exact resemblance to his own. Perfect. He let his jaw slacken with pleasure and exhale.
"It's perfect."
Mirela smiled at him. "I can't wait to have you that way again," she said suggestively, earning a mild look of disapproval from Dan which she ignored, but Herbert whistled; he wasn't sure if he would be able to love her physically once he started walking on his feet again. Faint medical experience recalled rest before any physical activity, but he would happily give up enough energy for her just for one moment and collapse into a peaceful sleep he'd long been deprived of.
"You should leave now, Dan. Wait for Celeste, rest after the flight, anything."
He stared at her in disbelief. "What, you don't need me anymore?"
"You've done enough of this to last a lifetime," she said. "This is something I can do on my own; I saved two people this way, and they made it out into the world alive. You know I'm a skilled surgeon, and a rod from the skull to the spine is going to be painful enough."
Dan stared at her for another moment before leaving just like that. She said nothing more as she began to get the MRI machine out to take X-rays of his brain and the various other equipment needed, plus all the surgical tools for it was going to leave quite the mess on the floor in the most macabre manner compared to past experiments by Dr. Mirela Vale that she could ever recall.
And all of this for her one true love, waiting patiently just for her, only a little while longer compared to the long, lonely years of a hellish existence.
Luck had favored her when she discovered that both Herbert and Jon had the same blood type, and extremely rare: O negative. By now the process was finished. Mirela stood over the body with the glowing green needle in hand; now for a revelation: the re-agent was enhanced with lizard regenerative substances as well as a small amount of her own venom. The clothing had been removed, the whole body covered with a sheer sheet. The neck was wrapped in bandages; muscles and nerves were skillfully sutured and connected, the fleshy exterior to take time to heal and perhaps leave a scar, which was common. But the re-agent soaking the skin would prevent that.
He was gasping as though trying to get precious air back into his lungs. She didn't have any air in her body to give him; reaching behind her, Mirela grabbed the oxygen mask and placed it over his mouth without strapping it behind his head. He took three breaths until finally he calmed down. Blinking about three times, he calmed down and nodded for her to take the mask off.
"Mirela..."
"YES!" She happily, moved around all four corners, starting at the right foot then around, ending where she was before and helping him sit up. His skin was warm beneath her hands, pulsating and alive and well. She felt like crying without tearshed as she looked up at him. Herbert looked down at himself, his face filled with wonder, joy, and various other emotions as he beheld the sight of his new body, the body he lusted for after months of being a disembodied head in a dish.
Herbert West had returned.
~o~
Something wet rolled down his cheeks while he looked down at the sight before him - well, below him, but it was the same thing to him: the light but clearly visible pectoral muscles, inner curved stomach, and a pair of long arms sporting enough muscle to give him limited strength. He still felt...strange, like he was having an out-of-body experience; his hands were still tingling, and so were his feet, attached to lean, colt-like legs. He was naked on the table, but overall, he had a whole body. Mirela stood next to him, watching him with the same reaction that he was clearly giving her.
Herbert looked down at his hands - he had HANDS again! Overwhelmed, he felt the moisture on his face become greater and greater. Lifting a hand up, he discovered that they were tears. He was crying; he could finally unleash all of his emotions again. Herbert let out a noise that sounded somewhere between a laugh and a sob. There were no words to do it justice. All those times of longing for the beautiful feeling he had long been deprived of. His brain was awashed with life again. Here he was, in another exotic country far from Arkham, and he was a human being again. Right in front of the woman he loved, who gave him what had been taken from him long ago.
"You're alive, my love," she said in Romanian. He didn't speak her language, but he understood by her soothing tone of voice. She helped him stand on both feet; his legs wobbled beneath him, but she helped him stand.
He looked around himself. Mirela could tell that he was slowly forgetting what it had been like to be a severed head all this time. Her body sizzled at the sight of him; that body he now had, it wasn't the one she killed. It was Herbert. HER Herbert, the man who was like she: dead and alive at the same time, going to live forever.
Tonight they would begin one main part of their "forever".
She wrapped both her arms around his bare shoulders and kissed him, long and passionate. Herbert moaned in delight, securing his own around her waist and drawing her in closer. At long last, once more damning Francesca and the freaks for depriving him of her, for everything, but once Mirela's tongue wrapped around his and explored his mouth, he immediately forgot about rage and hatred, instead returning the favor. His body was growing hotter, and harder, a feeling he had fantasized about since their parting and lost since...that horrible night. He broke the kiss gently and looked down at her. Her eyes were glazed but not liquidized. He wanted her now, and she wanted him to.
"Come to bed," she whispered, like she did the first time, taking both his hands and leading him upstairs. Dan had to be asleep by now, given how late it seemed, so Herbert wasn't ashamed about his nakedness around the house, not even when they got to Mirela's room, with the glass walls opened to nature and the ethereal snowy landscape outside, glittering under the moonlit sky. He paid attention mostly to Mirela, seeing her remove the tank and skirt she wore the whole time she operated and brought him back, revealing a black lace set with a sultry gate design in the bands around her hips. Herbert's erection twitched at the sight of her.
She was on him again, delaying the removal of the rest of her clothes any further, only heating him up by kissing him languidly again; her nails scraped down his back without acually leaving any marks. Tingles ran up his spine, and Herbert shivered and moaned. "Ohh, Mirela..." he moaned, his voice shuddering when his body was touched for the first time; the feeling wasn't strange, it was WONDERFUL. He was ready to claim her once again. "Mirela, please. Make me happy again."
"Patience." She had shoved her panties down her legs and kicked them off deftly. Just her bra and where he would enter her was the most magical sight he'd ever seen. "All good things must take time."
Herbert smiled. He reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting it join its companions. His heart picked up as he looked her over, thrilled to his core. He leaned down and kissed the top curves before journeying downwards. Mirela moaned and ran her fingers thought his hair; her fingers massaging his scalp drove him to a frenzy and nearly biting her nipples, now hard like rock pebbles. "Herbert," she murmured, "let me...make love to you." He stopped what he was doing and looked up at her with a smirk twisting his mouth.
"Why you over me again?"
"Because you were a virgin the first time in Switzerland." She returned the naughty smile. "Now it's my turn again with your new body, in my bed."
Ahh, God the way she was seducing him without even trying to be seductive and such a minx. He moaned when her hand cupped his cock, which was exactly the same size; if there was a God, then he silently thanked Him for this body satisfying him and making up for the one cruelly ripped from him. Mirela then knelt down and pressed a kiss to the head of his member. He moaned again; the sensation was delightful. But he stopped her right after her tongue licked all the way around his sex and then back to the top.
"No, I don't want to come," he managed. "I want to be inside you."
They tumbled onto the bed together, tangling in the silk and cashmere blankets, Herbert first onto his back. Mirela slowly lowered herself onto him and started do what she began that night, with kissing his neck first, adding in that she nibbled his throbbing jugular vein to excite him more. Then she began to kiss down his body, licking his nipples instead of pausing to suck, then nuzzling his navel before dipping her head to his groin. Her nose inhaled and nuzzled the dark curls above his manhood before taking one last lick of the head. He writhed beneath her; her teasing of him was driving him insane. Would she just get on with it already? He'd waited FOREVER for this night!
Mirela heard his thoughts and moved back up, positioning herself over his erect member, sliding onto him without any trouble. "Ohhhh, yessss," Herbert hissed, the smooth tightness taking him in and rushing over him like the incoming snowfall outside. Her womanhood welcomed him hungrily, sliding over and back, the experience beautiful as he remembered. His body was dripping beads of sweat; he felt like the man he was, being loved by this woman who had been worth the long wait, as Gruber once told him that "true love is worth the time and patience".
Herbert gave a small, breathless moan as she thrusted onto him, the intense pleasure building up with each passing moment. He didn't want it to end so soon, but he was getting tired, since he'd only been recovering from a long medical procedure. Mirela hissed as she hit home run, and they climaxed together; she fell into his arms after his hot seed entered her without trouble.
He was lying on his back, panting and catching his break while she lifted her head and looked at his face, smiling. "Was it worth the wait?"
"Need you ask?" he returned with a lazy smile, brushing her hair out of her face.
She kissed him tenderly. "I love you, Herbert."
No one besides her had ever told him those three beautiful words that were often taken for granted, not when he was a boy, and not even when he grew into a man. Herbert felt the emotion arise again; his ice-princess dignity was beginning to regain its form on its own, but he was with the one woman he could show his feelings to, so he shoved it down for the night. "And I..." Herbert wasn't sure why he couldn't tell her those simple words. "...love you, Mirela," he gasped out.
She laughed softly, reaching to pull the covers around him to prevent the chill. "Stay with me," he pleaded, holding her close. "Until I fall asleep."
"I won't ever leave you again," she promised him. "Not even for another hundred years, or a thousand years and so forth. You're mine forever on."
"Thank you," was all he whispered before he closed his eyes.
~o~
Herbert looked peaceful in his sleep. So young and innocent, like a child. Mirela deliberated this as she watched over him; it was nearing eleven by the time he finally succumbed to stupor, breathing evenly and relaxed. He was beautiful, the memories of the past no longer doing justice.
She sensed the familiar aura of Celeste in the house again. Time to break the news to her. Mirela left Herbert where he was, finding her short black dress she wore hunting back in Boston and going out to find her friend, unloading blood bags and human groceries. Well, they had human men in the house, and they couldn't survive on animal blood; it contained germs for them and contaminated their systems. She found Celeste in the kitchen, still in her coat as she put the food away into the lacquered black refrigerator and freezer, whipping her head around upon sensing her entrance.
Celeste beamed. "It succeeded." It wasn't a question.
"Completely. Falcone won't be missed; he has no loved ones living that I can sense," Mirela answered, moving to help, picking up two whole chickens in both arms. Except for maybe everyone else at work, but Celeste didn't need to hear that spoken. She knew it as much as she.
"The others are here," Celeste reported, taking the paper bags and tossing them into the trash. "They know we're here, but they're waiting for the right time to strike." She sighed. "But when, I don't know yet."
They had to be waiting for their little scout to come back, but maybe once they wait long enough and he doesn't return, then that would be their time to plan attack. Mirela sucked in a breath as she began to ponder new thoughts that threatened to destroy her confidence: that would mean endangering the lives of both Herbert and Daniel. Planning attack meant more hunters than you can count. Stoker would not be stupid. So that could mean, in order to counterattack...
"I ran into Grigore while I was hunting."
"Grigore," Mirela breathed, leaning back against the equally lacquered counter and staring up at the slate ceiling with the black crystal chandelier. Grigore Dragomir, family advisor of the Dracul line before its last heir was butchered by the same man who put out a story that disgraced the real "Dracula". She hadn't seen or heard from him since leaving the country, but he'd been alive all this time since even after Vlad died. And the head of the High Vampire Council, now occupying Castle Dracula unbeknownst to the human world.
"He's been concerned for you," Celeste went on, stating the obvious even though she'd never met the leader of the undead, though her tone suggested nothing negative about the meeting.
"How sweet of Grigore, considering he and I haven't made enough contact in less than a hundred years." Mirela shook her head. "What for?"
Celeste pulled her coat off then and hung it on the rack. "He knows the situation, been keeping tabs on you since your departure."
"And he never made the move to try and talk to me himself," the ebony-haired woman stated flatly, inwardly knowing the man had his reasons.
"But he always knew there would come a day. Anyway, he knows you're here, and he would love to offer protection should the situation get worse," Celeste answered. "He says the castle doors are opened for us whenever we want. It isn't safe to return to Boston yet at the present."
As anticipated, Mirela decided. She let go of the counter and paced the area, trying to think of a way to plan a surprise. "I assume he has his own vast armada ready. Vlad certainly did in times of war."
"Absolutely. And he asked me to deliver you a message," Celeste told her. "He said to tell you that, should you and West ever decide to..you know..." She giggled nervously and shifted from one foot to the other. Mirela returned the smile, knowing what one of her oldest friends was trying to get this one to tell her.
"Elopement. Of course, but I doubt Herbert would ever be ready for that type of commitment."
"Oh, hush." Celeste pushed her hair behind her shoulders. "Daniel will be more than ready to pop the question to me someday soon. Chances are your man will see what he'd missed and have his turn."
~o~
Herbert felt warm when he opened his eyes, blinking at the bright light, though the objects swirling before his vision was blurry. Remembering that he'd taken off his glasses during the night, Herbert reached over to grab them and put them on his eyes, and they flashed into focus, taking in the glass walls opened to show a picturesque, snowy scenery - snow on trees. It was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen; he deliberated this, wrapping the blankets around himself.
Mirela was nowhere in sight. He wondered where she was, only automatically assuming that she'd either gone hunting or was wandering the house somewhere. He still hadn't adjusted to the immaculate, pristine surroundings, yet he couldn't help but admire the view. Mirela had been born before the Gothic era, became an immortal vampire in the Gothic era, now she was living in modern surroundings.
Herbert found himself staring at the foot of the bed, at the clothes Raven had left for him - his clothes. White collar shirt, black tieand pants...she remembered. He slipped out of the bed and gathered them into his arms, making way for the opened door on the left opposite end of the room, showing a bathroom that looked and felt organic and natural, with soft wooden tones in the floor and shower backdrop. He felt rather filthy, given he hadn't had a bath or shower for a year. Already he was feeling relaxed, even before he stepped into the heated shower, moaning in delightful pleasure as his body received the cleansing he craved for years.
Herbert found himself looking at the whole front of his new body in the tall mirror behind him; his breath was taken away at the sight of what he'd missed. His body structure was perfect, lean and not large as Dan's frame, then down south to where he felt himself tighten down between his legs, but he couldn't bring himself to touch himself, the hardened length surrounded by a groomed bush. The old belief that masturbation was out of the question swam around in his brain, and it should be Mirela to give him pleasure instead of his own hand, and him for her.
~o~
Dan stared down at the opened box, Meg's ring winking up at him, ready to meet a new owner when the other intended never had the chance. Letting go of the past was another hard thing to do, but Celeste was also right: he couldn't spend life wasting it away, waiting for the end to come, both his life and Herbert's. Life was too sacred, so much to do, so much to cherish. Losing people was a part of living, and living was not what he'd been doing. Just waiting.
Perhaps it was also time to stop watching Herbert. He had Mirela now, but if there was any way she could knock some sense into him if Dan couldn't do that himself...
She will, he heard Celeste through the air. I know her well enough to know that she'll convince him life is more than work. That eased his uncertainty by the slightest.
He found her in the kitchen, over the stove and making breakfast, cracking eggs over the pan. The smell made his stomach rumble. But that was not the half of what he saw that turned up the heat in his stomach and radiated every part of his body.
Celeste looked like a deity in a scarlet dress with thin straps and a flirty, swirly, lace-edged skirt. When she turned around upon sensing his presence, he glimpsed a contoured bust and cross-laced bodice. Her shining sunny curls danced over one shoulder, exposing a stud in her ear; sultry, rich red ruby surrounded by a fiery starburst of white diamonds, and a matching pendant resting above the valley between her breasts. A perfect way of saying "I love you" without actually speaking the words. Dan's veins pulsated heat while struggling to find what words to say instead.
"Sometimes words don't do justice," she reminded him, turning back to the stove. Smirking mischievously, Dan walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, inhaling both her scent and the food. The last time he remembered was Francesca over her special sauce that night it turned to hell for her; she was in that red dress which added to spicing the night up, then her beautiful body in bed against his...but now that he thought of it, that hadn't been serious. It had been to make up for what he'd lost with Meg. Then she found out his and West's activities and left him, especially after the Bride attacked her and the collapsing crypt. And then Chapham's wife stabbing her through the heart, and her rage at being brought back to life only to tear Herbert's head from his body.
Celeste, however, tolerated it all since she was half dead, half alive herself, a mythical reject of the world. Moving place to place with her friend as he himself had been doing. Now it seemed he would have to do this with her and Mirela from now on. He didn't want to be alone anymore. Which was why...
"I know what you're going to ask me."
Dan grinned, holding her tighter until she asked him to let go so she wouldn't knock the pan over and burn him. She would be able to regenerate, though, but he obeyed. She turned it off, thinking it done enough, and turned all the way around. Her plump pink lips were stuck out in a crooked pout, dark eyes shining. "Well, ask away, Dr. Cain."
"As you wish, Miss Roberts." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring she'd worn only once and shortly. "Celeste, I won't deny that I have strong feelings for you, something I haven't felt in a long time. I don't want to waste anymore of my life alone, so will you marry me?"
Her nod was all he needed, and after he placed the ring on her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deep, until the sound of a throat being cleared. They broke apart to see Herbert standing there, mouth twitched in a smirk.