Of Shoulder Joints and Confessionals

Ashian was woken up at seven o'clock the next morning by a begrudged and leering Gabriella. When she was sure that Ashian was awake she stormed out of the room and gave the door a particularly good slamming.

Ashian was unused to waking during daylight hours. Because most of the things she hunted prowled the streets at night she had kept up her habit of being nocturnal. Seven o'clock in the morning, what a beastly hour to waste energy on. She didn't have much time to get down to the train station, plus she'd have to smuggle Van Helsing onto the car somehow. Why had he bought a ticket for himself if he shouldn't be seen at all? Probably because his conscience wouldn't let him rest if he hadn't. Funny how he could get a way with murder and not loose a wink of sleep, but robbing from the railroad company would bother him so much. Of course she was the same way. Why, just last week she had lied to Gabriella and it had bothered her more than the fact that she was beginning to average four or five murders a week. She needed a vacation.

Ashian's train of thought was broken by the note on her door.

Ashian,

You were still sleeping, so I went ahead to the station. Don't wake up too late; I'll see you on the train. Here's you're ticket.

Van Helsing

Great. She was alone in house with a shape shifter who wanted to murder her. Setting her will against the probability that not patching things up with Gabriella would distract her throughout the entire trip, she slid several knives along her black leather boots that reached up to her knees. Most female monster hunters wore their boots up to their hips, but Ashian's style of combat was so heavily dependant on jumping that she couldn't risk the leather making her knees stiff. The rest of her legs were covered with thick, black canvas trousers. Ashian had developed a very nice body over the years, but the way that her pants and boots flaunted it unnerved her. To equalize the effect, she wore a loose blouse that laced up the front. Underneath the loose sleeves she strapped two knives and a pocket pistol. Her main weapons, however, were her large, falcon shaped crossbow (she had gotten it off a dead member of the Holy Order) and her twin pistols that hung at her sides. Obviously the crossbow wouldn't be welcome on civilized society, so it had been stuffed into her travel bag along with a roll of white cloth, a bottle of holy water, and a special disinfectant she had learned about in Istanbul. It would remove any sort of poison from the body except for vampire venom. Short of that, she didn't need anything else; except maybe confidence that the Holy Order wouldn't insist she become a nun or something for penance of past sins.

Ashian examined herself in the mirror. Her outfit was entirely black, except for the glints of silver where her weaponry showed through. She had solved that problem with a large, black leather coat that fell just above the ground. It had two slits, one on each side, to allow for movement and it buttoned at the collar. It had been a very original solution to the odd stares the clothes underneath it got, but after seeing Van Helsing in a very similar outfit, she wasn't so sure if it was safe to dress like this anymore.

Ashian stuffed the train ticket that Van Helsing had left with the note and swung her coat on. Smells of Gabriella cooking wafted up to the second floor landing where Ashian debated having breakfast. She probably shouldn't; this was the first time Ashian and Gabriella had gotten in a real argument, and Ashian wasn't sure if Gabby would try to poison her or not. When she got down to the bottom of the stairs instead of turning right to say goodbye to Gabriella she headed strait towards the front door.

"You weren't going to have breakfast?" Gabby had turned up just as Ashian's hand touched the doorknob.

"I was in a rush, and I, uh, thought you might try to poison me." There was no need to lie to Gabriella about how she felt.

Gabriella was wringing a dish towel in her hands. "Ashian, about last night. I realize where you're coming from, what with Van Helsing showing up and all. I shouldn't have pressed the matter."

"Oh, Gabby, I'm at fault as well; I shouldn't have yelled at you." Ashian let her shoulders sag. "Forgive and forget?"

Gabriella smiled. She obviously hadn't wanted Ashian to leave while they had been fighting. "Forget what? Come here, Chicken Legs." She stepped forward and wrapped Ashian in a sisterly embrace. When she finally let go, her eyes were wet. "Now, you be careful. Just because Dracula doesn't want you dead doesn't mean he'll ignore you. And I slipped an extra silver stake in your pack, because you always loose the one I send pack. Oh, and here's your breakfast." She handed Ashian a sandwich with ham and eggs stuffed between the bread.

Ashian took it gratefully. "Thanks Gabby. You're the best." With one last quick hug she was finally out the door.

Ashian had no real means of transportation to get around London because she was gone so often, and most cabbies would just ignore her if she tried to flag them down. So Ashian shoved the sandwich down her throat and set off for the train station. Using only back alleys when she could help it, she covered a good deal of ground. However, she soon gained some unwanted attention from several Spanish workers that had probably come up for jobs.

At first they stayed several yards behind her, but soon they were only a step or so back. When she turned around to confront them about their odd behavior, one of them jumped forward and swung her bag off her shoulder. He didn't do anything with it, just listened to the cat-calls of his fellows.

"Oh, look at the little French lady! What she got in da bag?"

"I'm not so interested in da bag! Hey Raquel!"

"Whatcha want, Guillermo?"

"Let's see what she got under dat coat!"

"Come on, little French lady, Felipe wanna know whatcha got under dat coat." Ashian gathered that this comment was directed at her (though standing 5'10" with jet black hair and pale skin, she hardly looked French) and that Felipe was the Spaniard in front of her. She decided to let her true colors shine through and reached into her coat. A small grin crossed her lips as the cat-calls increased. They were quickly replaced by angry shouts as she pulled her two pistols from her sides. Felipe dropped her bag and stuck his fists up. Yeah, that would really stop a bullet.

"Holy Mother! Since when do French ladies carry guns?"

"Felipe, you can take her!"

"Hey French lady! Play fair and put down da guns!"

"¡Ciérrele para arriba los bastardos!" This came from Ashian, and I bet you can probably get the basic translation from Spanish to English.

There was a stunned silence followed by a whistle and, "Whoa, I didn't know a French lady could dat!"

Ashian turned her attention back to Felipe, who was standing like he'd been struck by lightning. "You," She pointed one gun at him while keeping the other at the two other assailants. "Pick the bag up, march two steps in front of me, head for the train station, and maybe I won't waste a bullet on you."

Felipe bent slowly and hauled the bag up onto his shoulder. Walking stiff and untrusting, he headed for the train station. Ashian had put her guns away, but if she needed to could pull them out faster than any American gunman. After several blocks, they entered the train station. Ashian led Felipe to her platform and took her bag. He attempted to walk away as calmly as he could but jumped when Ashian called after him.

"Felipe! I'm not done with you yet." He turned apprehensively and winched as if expecting to be shot when she reached into her coat. She pulled out several Francs and tossed them in his direction. He looked up in shocked gratitude. "Thank you for your help." Before he could say anything she climbed into the car and then to the compartment where she had seen Van Helsing watch her. She lifted her bag on to the luggage rack and sat down next to him.

Van Helsing spoke first. "Well, that was very chivalrous of you."

Ashian shrugged off her good deed. "Ah, I had a few extra Francs and he won't be worse off for having them. Besides, I need every blessing I can get. He'll probably end up helping me more than I helped him."

"Suit yourself." Van Helsing began to play with his ticket stub. "So, did you patch things up with Gabriella?"

"Yeah, she's fine. Besides, after Xiomara's murder, she's probably not too anxious to go to Transylvania." Ashian grabbed a book from her bag and settled herself in the corner.

"So you did know who she was!" There was a bemused look on Van Helsing's face.

Ashian winced when she realized she had let the cat out of the bag. "Yeah, I knew. But I figured if you knew how serious Dracula is beginning to take me... well, I figured that you'd worry."

Van Helsing sighed and looked up as if to ask God for help. "Well, I am worried. You should have come to Rome even sooner. He's been sending up his brides after you? How many have you killed?" He waited for the conductor's shouts to die down; they had just left the platform.

Ashian coughed to conceal her answer. Van Helsing gave her a sharp look and she caved. "Two."

"Two?! No wonder he's sent his brides after you!" His raised voice was beginning to draw attention so he lowered it to an angry whisper. "This has gotten out of control, Ashian."

Ashian's voice went hard. "Well, what do you suggest I do about it? This isn't game, Van Helsing. I can't just quit and call it a day. I –" Ashian was cut off by a young child's scream, and before Van Helsing could look past her to see what the problem was she was out the door.

Several compartments down a young Spanish boy, probably headed home, had been putting his luggage on the rack when it had collapsed and buried him under baggage. One of the attendants was clearing luggage off of him when Ashian came rushing in. She immediately hosted off the last suitcase and helped him up onto the seat. He was clutching his arm and moaning, "¡Oh, mi brazo! ¡Mi brazo lastima tan malo!"

"Where does it hurt?" Ashian spoke very slowly so that he could understand her.

It took a moment, but he finally translated her question and pointed to his shoulder. She gently moved his arm, which caused him to scream in agony again. Being careful not to cause anymore pain, she gently prodded his shoulder. Gently she lifted him up from the seat and led the boy back to her compartment.

Van Helsing had been trying to remain inconspicuous and had stayed in the compartment. "What happened?"

Ashian began rummaging in her pack. "I don't know, but he dislocated his shoulder. You're going to have to help me by guiding it back into the socket." She finally found what she was looking for; a box of bullets. She removed one and turned towards the boy. In rough Spanish she explained what they were going to do. It would be painful, so to help distract him he would bite down on the bullet while Ashian held him steady and Van Helsing relocated his shoulder. Whimpering in pain, the boy listened and finally nodded in agreement.

Ashian handed the bullet to the boy and wrapped him in a tight embrace to keep him from squirming. The young boy clenched his jaw around the bullet and his small hand found Ashian's. She looked up and counted silently to Van Helsing, "One, Two, Three." Van Helsing pulled hard on the boy's arm and used the momentum to put it back in the socket. The boy spat the bullet across the compartment, but the procedure was over before he could scream. Instead he turned around and buried his face in Ashian's shoulder. Sympathy pulled at Van Helsing's heart strings. Suddenly he found himself back about twenty years.

"Damnit! Don't touch it! You've done enough damage already. I'll just have the nurse look at it." A younger looking Van Helsing clutched his arm in pain. He had thrown a punch at Veronna in an attempt to get her off of Ashian. It hadn't done any damage, but she was so surprised that she twisted his arm on shot back off to Transylvania. He had sunk against a tree trunk in pain, and began shouting at Ashian for being stupid when she rose from the feeding trance. Dizzy from blood loss, she had caught her breath and then attempted to help Van Helsing. Surprisingly, he was rather touched. It didn't show, but he was touched.

"Oh yeah, I can already picture that conversation: 'Young man, how did this happen?'

"'Well, Ashian and I were out hunting Vampires, and Veronna twisted my arm wrong. Ashian told me not to come here, but you understand, don't you?'

"'Oh of course I understand, and would please come over here. I need to see if this straitjacket will fit you.'"

Van Helsing grinned internally, but his scowl stayed glued to his face. "Shut up."

"Oh, you're such a baby. Now hold still." Before he could protest, she popped his arm back in place. She then ripped off a large section of the discarded coat that Veronna had ripped off of her and knotted together a make-shift sling. She then proceeded to carry back all of his misplaced weaponry and had made an excuse to the school nurse as to why his arm was in such a bad condition.

Neither Van Helsing nor Ashian had ever spoken again of his moment of weakness, but it was the first memory to come flooding back after Dracula had been supposedly murdered.

Van Helsing shot back from his memories by the pain filled whimpers of the boy. When Van Helsing had dislocated his shoulder he had been cursed with the body of a sixteen year old, but had still known he was the left hand of God, had still had the mind of an adult. This child couldn't be more than thirteen years old, and this was probably the most severe injury he had ever experienced.

Van Helsing reached up and dug the roll of white cloth out of Ashian's bag. He had once asked her why she always used white linen for bandages, and she had replied it was so that she would know when the blood had soaked through. It was probably because a black bandage had a somewhat depressing effect. Van Helsing cut off a long strip of the cloth and looped it into a sling for the boy. He knelt down and slipped it tenderly around the boy's arm and his neck. Ashian gave him a grateful smile and helped the boy onto his feet.

"Is esos el asesino Van Helsing?" The boy was gazing with wide eyes at Van Helsing's dark figure.

"He es un asesino, sí. Pero él ha ahorrado mi vida más épocas que puedo contar. Usted ha visto a lado mejor de él; ruegue que usted no necesite verlo cuando él está enojado para él protegerá los que él ama con la ferocidad de un lobo." Ashian led him back to his compartment before he could ask anymore questions.

When she came back Van Helsing looked at her inquiringly. "What did you two say?"

"Oh, he asked if you were the murderer Van Helsing." Ashian settled in a corner with her book that she had intended on reading.

Gabriella wasn't the only one who got annoyed with Ashian's story telling tactics. "And what did you say?"

"I said, 'Yes, he is the murder Van Helsing. But he has saved my life more times than I can count. You have seen him at his best; pray that you will never have to see him when he is truly mad for he will protect the ones he loves with the ferocity of a wolf.'" Ashian fell silent and buried herself in her novel.

"You said that? Van Helsing had known that Ashian could be very moving when she spoke if she was passionate enough about her subject, but he had never know her to speak that way about him.

"Mmhmm." Ashian was obviously in no mood to talk, so Van Helsing didn't press her.

Instead he decided to test the tender moment. He sat down next to her and pulled his hat down over his eyes and pretended to sleep. When the train rounded a corner, he fell down so that his head was just barley in Ashian's lap. He expected for her to shove him off and continue with her novel, and almost sat back up when she didn't. Rather, she shifted her position so that he was more comfortable, and after time began to wind her hands absentmindedly through his hair. He had been considering a hair cut, but now it seemed like a bad idea.

Van Helsing led Ashian up the steps of the Vatican Church, watching her out of the corner of his eyes.

"Here's an idea: why don't you go grapple with the Knights of the Holy Order, and I'll wait for you at the docks." Ashian turned around and began to leave, but Van Helsing grabbed her arm before she could make any real progress.

"You act like their going to sign you up for a ten day cruise in Hell. Relax; Jinette will probably be glad to see you." Van Helsing was behind her now and began to push her inside.

"Right, and Lucifer just called in; apparently it started snowing in Hell." Ashian didn't put up much of a fight, but she really didn't want to stand in that stupid confessional and wait for a secret door to get opened.

"Don't curse; we're in church." Van Helsing gave her shoulder blades a shove and closed the confessional door behind her.

"Van Helsing! What on earth do you think I'm going to do in here?" Ashian's knuckles were white form trying to force open the door, but Van Helsing had always been bigger than her, as well as physically stronger.

"Well, seeing as it's a confessional, I suggest you begin to confess." Van Helsing gave the door a shake as if to dislodge Ashian's hands.

"Of what?! If you think for one moment that I'm going to stand here and drone on about what an awful little girl I've been you must be off you're rocker."

"Come, my daughter, tell me of what you have done to find yourself in this confessional." An old man's voice thick with an Italian accent came from the other side of the confession booth.

"I befriended the coot know as Van Helsing. Jinette, let me out of this damn confessional, or so help me!" Ashian was attempting to pry Van Helsing's hands off of the door when the grate between Jinette and Ashian slid up.

"Daughter, you are in the house of the Lord. You should not speak like that." There was a gleam in Cardinal Jinette's eyes that suggested he enjoyed watching people squirm under the spot light.

"Fine, I beg the Lord's forgiveness. Now let me out of this damn box." It was obvious that Ashian hadn't meant her half-hearted repentance, but Cardinal Jinette realized he would get no where with this. Besides, Ashian looked ready to jump over the door to the confessional. He pressed the button and the stone wall slid up revealing a torch lit stairway. Van Helsing nodded her forward and she followed Jinette downward.

They went down for several feet when the staircase opened up to a large room where all sorts of scientifically geared equipment whirred and monks in robes buzzed about. It reminded Ashian of a giant hive. Jinette led them to a table with several pictures and next to it stood a projector.

"Gabriel, I know that you are well versed in Dracula's history, but how much has your companion been told?" Jinette began to prepare several slides for the projector.

"I didn't tell her anything. I didn't need to. Ashian knows more about Dracula than any other person alive." Jinette dropped the slides he was holding and gave Ashian a most undignified stare.

He took several minutes to compose himself, but then said rather loftily, "Fine, but do not blame me for her ignorance. Carl is going to be coming with you again; perhaps he will be of some help. I suggest you pack quickly, you have passage on a boat that leaves this evening."

Ashian gladly stepped away from the Cardinal, but Van Helsing held back. "I'll be right there. Carl is the one with red hair, go get yourself acquitted." Ashian shrugged and went to go meet the mysterious Carl.

"Is there a problem, Gabriel?" Cardinal Jinette waited to address him after Ashian was out of earshot.

"You seemed... apprehensive around Ashian." Van Helsing stood his ground, but he still towered easily over Jinette.

"I do not trust her. I know not whom she serves, but it is not God. Beware, Gabriel. Her methods may be effective, but do not forget that despite her rouge tendencies, you are still the left hand of God."

"I trust her. I trust her with my life. Yes, she is unorthodox, but she despises Dracula on a very personal note. She won't fail."

"Ah, she sounds very similar to Anna Valerious. Did Anna not give her life to save you from the curse of the werewolf? Is Ashian willing to do the same? Are you willing to make that sacrifice?" Cardinal Jinette's eyebrows were raised inquisitively.

"Yes." He wasn't sure which question he was answering, but Jinette had given him enough to think about.

Carl was examining a sample of gargoyle skin when he felt a tap on his back. He turned around and found lady examining him. No, she wasn't a lady. Just like Van Helsing wasn't a gentleman. She might have been Van Helsing's sister for her appearance. Except for her face. The only thing it held in common with Van Helsing's mug was that desperate look of wanting to curl up and forget about evil for one measly moment. But where Van Helsing's face showed a hardened hope and belief that good will prevail, this woman's face held a dying trust in the Lord and his proclaimed set of rules. She looked as if when push came to shove that she would drop humanity to save what she could.

"Oh, hello. You must be Ashian Valcon. Van Helsing told me about you." Carl took off his dragon hide gloves and gave her hand a hearty shake.

"Did he now? What all did he tell you?" Ashian was easily taller than Carl, but if he stopped hunching he would most likely stand a few inches taller than her.

"Not much. Van Helsing isn't very talkative, but he did tell me you went to school together, so you probably already knew that. One thing he didn't tell me: how on earth did he go to school with you if he's the left hand of God?" Carl was staring nosily over her shoulder at her pack.

Ashian swung the leather sack off her shoulder and laid the contents out for Carl to examine. "The way he explained it to me was that a warlock set a curse on him behind his back. Somehow that curse went awry, and instead of killing him it simply made him go through childhood all over again. Because he didn't have any parents to speak of he got adopted – be careful, the release it on the bottom so I just have to slam it against something in mid-fight." Carl had been examining one of her silver stakes, and the way he had been holding it would have made it very easy to poke out his eye.

"That's ingenious! Did you make this?" Carl was playing with the release on the silver stake.

"No, it was Gabriella's idea. Anyway, he got adopted, but through his various adventures his 'parents' got killed and the left over money was used to send him to the Magellan College. That's where we met, quite obviously. He was the one who taught me how to fight, and not a day too soon." Ashian was about to continue, but Van Helsing walked up behind Carl.

"Carl, stop playing with Ashian's toy's and pack up. We're going to Transylvania and the boat leaves in several hours." Carl jumped at the noise, but disregarded Van Helsing and began to shove weaponry into a bag.

"Van Helsing, please define 'we.' I really hope that 'we' doesn't mean 'we three'" Carl watched Van Helsing out of the corner of his eye as he packed.

"Oh, you're coming. But you should be happy. If I remember correctly there's a certain barmaid who has probably missed you." Carl went rigid and blushed the instant he understood Van Helsing's meaning.

Ashian laughed openly at the reaction. "A barmaid? Carl, you're a monk."

Van Helsing raised his eyebrows and said in mock seriousness, "No, he's still just a friar."