Reunion
He blended in with the shadows as he watched the guests arrive. Several guests walked in without so much as a backward glance, but just as many felt his eyes bore holes in their backs. One couple paused as they passed him, but looked in the complete opposite direction. It had always been a skill of his to turn inquisitive away from where they would cause trouble, and recently it had become his face that he would rather them not see. He had started wearing a mask of sorts, just a high, tight fitting sleeve of fabric that covered all but his eyes. But even those got him trouble. The final guest, a young woman of no more than nineteen turned to face him and meet his gaze. Before he could retreat down the street, she smiled and mouthed "We meet again, Gabriel Van Helsing."
Gabriella opened the door for the young woman. "Welcome to me mistress's masquerade party! O' course we usually 'ave it on All Hallows Eve, but Mistress Adelaide was gunna be gone and whatnot, so she 'aven it now. So wonderful of you to come miss. Everyone's out in the Ballroom, so feel free ta join 'em. I'll just be off ta tell me mistress you came after all." If you hadn't met her on a previous occasion, you'd have thought for sure that Gabriella was a dotting old maid from London with graying hair and a stooped back. In reality Gabriella had long red hair and stood taller than most average men.
The young woman simply nodded and allowed Gabriella to take her coat. Music, classical with an almost unrecognizable barbaric taint, floated from the ballroom. She glided into the area and turned all the heads. Young men swamped her, but across the room she saw her host surveying her with a business-like icy gaze. She was the one who caught her attention; she was the one her master wanted. And she was the one her master would be getting.
Ashian might have been watching the newcomer out of the corner of her eye the whole time, but none of the other guests ever noticed. To most of them she was Adelaide Cross, a strong young widow with ties in almost all levels of society. When she had first moved into the area, her social status was undeniable by even the shrewdest of nannies. She could have been a powerful ally and a dangerous foe, but she traveled so often that she never really took the opportunity to ruin any of her "friends" as they so often tried to do to her. Rumors flew about how she was a pagan witch or her affair with a gypsy in Spain, but her house was decorated with Christian symbols and the gypsy of her affairs had never been factually produced. Eventually she came to be regarded as an oddity among society, and was looked upon with pity, but when she threw parties it was quite the treat to be invited.
After dancing and jesting, the dinner bell was rung, and everyone herded into the dinning room. The feast presented was fairly festive, but not stuffed full of delicacies and treats. It was the type of food that delighted the senses and filled the stomach, cooked by unnamed and highly praised chefs. About halfway through the dessert, though, a knock came on the front door, followed by a loud ringing of the doorbell.
Gabriella rushed to the door and opened it to find a dark figure standing in the doorway. He wore a wide brimmed hat, a long dark coat, and his face was covered up to the eyes. His eyes had something familiar in them, something dark. Then it hit her. She knew this man.
Gabriella's eyes widened as she tried not to bolt. "O-one m-m-moment, sir. Ashian w-will be r-right w-w-with you."
She slammed the door and scuttled to the dining room. She paused long enough to gather her wits, and walked as calmly as she could over to Ashian's chair. She whispered that there was a man at the door to see her, but in her confusion, she forgot to mention who it was.
Ashian's brow furrowed for a second, and then she hastily excused herself. Several of the guests were quite perplexed as to what could have concerned their host so, but the strange young woman already knew and smiled slyly to herself.
Ashian rapidly opened the door and found the strange man leaning against one of the decorative posts outside her door. When she opened it he stood erect and looked her up and down. Ashian was wearing a particularly tight dress, and didn't appreciate the look of longing in his eyes. Before she could speak, though, he began.
"Damn, you've gotten attractive." He continued to look her up and down.
Ashian was visibly appalled. She couldn't see much of his face; his eyes were hidden by his hat and though he had taken of the piece of fabric that usually covered his mouth, she still didn't recognize him "Can I help you?"
"Yes, I bet you probably could." His voice was distant, as if he was remembering... or fantasizing.
"Excuse me?!" Ashian slammed the door and threw her back against it as if the stranger would try to force open the door.
"Ashian! Open the door! It's me!" The stranger's voice was muffled by the door, but she still heard it clear enough.
"How do you know me?" She didn't say it very loud, and she had been talking more to herself, but he still heard her.
"We went to school together! All the teachers hated us, we sat in the back of all the classrooms, Mrs. Haung called me a street rat behind my back, and you have a scar on your back from the time a warlock tried to use you as a human sacrifice. Please, Ashian, let me in!" There was a desperate note in his voice, almost childish.
Ashian's eyes grew wide as she spun around and threw the door open. "Van Helsing? Are you Gabriel Van Helsing?" She reached out as if to touch him, but stopped right in front of his chest.
"Yes, Ashian. I'm back." He lifted his own hand and touched hers. There was a small smile on his lips as he pulled her forward into a tight embrace that she willingly returned.
Panting and disbelieving, she led him inside. Noises from the party reached her ears, and she suddenly remembered why the whole evening had been planned. She turned to Van Helsing and quickly said, "Listen, you caught me in the middle of something, but it's almost over. I've got two guest rooms upstairs; pick one and make your self presentable, I'll be up as soon as I can." She gave him another quick hug and trotted, almost ran, back to the dinning room. She sighed when she heard the small creaking as Van Helsing headed upstairs.
She waltzed gracefully back into the room as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, but the young woman grinned at her in a knowing, unnerving way. "Well, I see that you have all finished dessert. Come with me into the Ballroom; there's no need to sit in the dinning room and reminisce about meals long past." She held the door open as everyone filed out.
Gabriella and several people that were helping with the party brought in coffee, cream, and light finger pastries. After several minutes of small talk, the first of the guests began to dismiss them selves. Like a gracious host, Ashian saw them all to the door. Finally she closed the door after the last guest that was intended to leave. The strange young woman was still in her house. She turned to find the red-headed beauty standing about five feet away.
Lifting her chin to expose her neck, the young woman began to speak. "This party was a very clever ruse to bring attention to me. And either way, you win. If I am killed, no one will be any the wiser. And if you die, my face replaces your precious Van Helsing's on the wanted posters. Or we could compromise."
Ashian was in her element now. All the pomp and circumstance of Paris society made her sick, and now it was going to pay off. After tonight she would never have to set foot in France again. "How do you propose we do that?"
The young woman's voice steadily became thick with a Transylvanian accent as she spoke. "My master doesn't want you dead, though I don't know why. One small moment of pain and you never will be." When she finished with her sentence her teeth grew several inches and her jaw unhooked like a snake's.
Ashian had no room on her costume for a weapon of any sort, and they both knew that. The vampire thought that there was no way out for Ashian, but soon saw her mistake. While she had been speaking, Ashian's hand had clutched a half full pitcher of water on the table she had backed up against. In a quick moment she had brought the pitcher in front of her. The vampire paused, perplexed. What was so special about a pitcher of water? Ashian smiled as comprehension dawned on the vampire's face. Without another moment of hesitation, Ashian threw the water on her opponent. She had expected to hear a hot sizzle on contact, but nothing happened.
The vampire laughed as Ashian's eyes darted around the room in search for a weapon to protect herself with. They darted from the table, to the sitting room, to the kitchen, to the banister, and then to the balcony at the top of the stairs that overlooked the main hallway. Van Helsing was watching her with cool, calculating eyes. He reached into his coat and before Ashian could see what he had grabbed, swung his arm in a wide fluid arch. Instinctively Ashian's hand flew up and caught whatever he had thrown. She grinned as the cool feel of a silver stake met her palm. All the while, the vampire had shot forward and begun to sink her fangs into Ashian's neck. Just as her jaw began to close, Ashian plunged the silver stake into where the heart would have been.
The vampire clutched at the handle of the silver stake that protruded from her chest. She let out an inhuman screech while a ghostly wind blew away her remains as she deteriorated. Ashian seized a broom and swept the remains out her front door. She sighed and began to unfasten her elaborate dress as she marched up the stairs. As she passed Van Helsing (who was still leaning on the railing) she muttered what might have been, "I'm going to kill that good for nothing shape-shifting coward."
Van Helsing smiled as he remembered how violently she had cursed after the first time she had fought without him to guard her back. It was nice to know that she hadn't changed that much.
He followed her into the least decorated room on the floor and began to examine an amulet while she changed behind a screen. When she was done he turned around and sat nonchalantly on her desk.
"As obviously planned as that stunt appeared, did you know who that particular leech was?" He shrugged his coat off to reveal a gray turtleneck and black pants with various charms hanging off his belt.
Ashian walked over to the writing table, and ignoring that Van Helsing was sitting on her desk, picked up a small hand mirror. "Yeah, I knew. Not the name or anything, but I knew she was one of Dracula's brides." She was rubbing her neck when she exclaimed, "That little-! She bit me! She actually bit me!"
Van Helsing inclined his neck and peered at the two pinpricks. A small chill ran through his fingers as they met Ashian's flesh for the first time in too many years. "It's shallow; you'll be just fine." He lowered his hand slowly, a little slower than he had intended. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat and went to sit on the bed. "Why doesn't he want you dead?"
"Who?"
"Dracula."
"Probably because with a score to settle like ours he's got better, or in my case worse, things to do to me. But it isn't like I'll be going to Transylvania any time soon, right?" Van Helsing didn't look up at her question. "Right, Van Helsing?"
When he finally looked up his jaw was set in firm line and he voice was slightly more husky than usual. "Ashian, I can't make you do anything you don't want to do. But, yes, I hope that you will come to Transylvania with me."
Ashian sighed and began rummaging in her closet. "You're right; you can't make me do anything I don't want to, but you have perfected the art of sending me on a hell of a guilt trip." She produced a large, leather traveling bag from her wardrobe. "Fine, I'll go. When do we leave?"
Van Helsing stood up and began examining her closet. He muttered, "I've got two train tickets to Italy in the morning." He was now standing next to Ashian, and gave her their old signal to be careful. Slowly he reached into the wardrobe, and jumped backwards as a dead body fell from the back of the closet.
He laughed roughly and shot Ashian a sideways look. "Are there dead bodies in all the closets, or just yours?"
Ashian was glaring at the body with respectful contempt. She began to move it out the door with a series of savage kicks to the ribs. "It's not a dead body. It's that good for nothing shape-shifter with nothing better to do than eavesdrop that I swore I'd kill." The eyes of the body shot open as it scrambled of its feet. "And this time I might just do it."
The corpse had shifted back into Gabriella's most comfortable form. "What do you mean 'good for nothing'? I practically set up the whole party!"
"Yeah? Well obviously you were so busy with self imposed tasks that you forgot to put the holy water in the pitcher." Ashian whirled around and grabbed the discarded travel bag. "You can redeem yourself by helping me pack." She huffed her way past Gabriella in mock contempt. It was a wonderful act, but she really wasn't that mad at Gabby.
Gabriella just let her go. She smiled at Van Helsing and said, "I apologize for my rude behavior earlier. I'm Gabriella; I was the original owner of the house, and Ashian was the only one who would move in with a shape-shifter. We've been friends ever since."
Van Helsing reached forward and gave her out stretched hand a firm shake. "No problem. I've gotten worse receptions."
"GABBY! GET UP HERE! WHERE'D MY PISTOLS GO?"
Gabriella sighed and rolled her eyes. "Has she always been like this?"
Van Helsing gave her a small smile and nodded as Gabriella left.