Chapter Seven:

The Story Of The Crimson Lady

Holmes pressed the palms of his hands together, and tapped his fingers against his lips, in thought.

"This is all very interesting, Mr and Mrs Harker. I welcome your honesty – and I for one will keep this confidential."

"As will I," John added.

"That goes for me, also," I spoke up.

The Harkers nodded, relieved.

"So, after spending several months adjusting to your…new state of existence, at the castle, what brought you two back to London?" Sherlock put to them.

"The discovery of the Count's records on other aristocratic vampires he had become aware of," Jonathan Harker began. "One of them was a Count Anton Dolingen. His estranged, vampiric wife tried to kill me, when I wandered into her shrine in Germany, en route to Transylvania. I now realise that it had been Count Dracula – in the form of a wolf – who had saved me from the Countess. But he only did that because he had need of my services. To keep the story short, we found out – through the newspapers we gathered during our travels - that Count Dolingen had travelled to London. I recalled the surname, and I feared that he too was a vampire with dark designs in mind."

"So, knowing that we were officially missing in the eyes of the human world – Jonathan and I took up new identities and made our way back to London, with a few of our Szgany servants, in order to track down Dolingen," Mina continued.

"Where are they? The Szgany , I mean," Holmes pressed them.

"With one of our sisters and brothers, Mr Holmes," Jonathan explained. "Going about their own business. Please do not track them down. We have agreed a code of conduct amongst our…nest. Our family. They will not kill any innocent people whilst in this country."

"Ha!" Sherlock looked sceptical as he snorted – but he nodded, nevertheless. "And whilst in London, you managed to track Count Dolingen down, despite his change of name – when you learnt of the attack upon my housekeeper and poor Mrs Watson here."

"Yes," Mina agreed. "And learning about the manner of how both Mrs Watson and Count Dolingen died, gave Jonathan and I reason to suspect that she would become one of us. And there was cause for concern – a newborn vampire arising when her sire had already been killed."

"I don't understand," John spoke up, glancing at me. "How did Mary become a vampire? The fiend bit her, but she did not bite him – so there was no Baptism of Blood, as in your cases, Mr and Mrs Harker."

"Isadora Klein explained it to me, John," I told him. "After Dolingen bit deeply into me, I saw him disintegrate when that man stabbed him from behind. I was already gasping in my agony, when Dolingen collapsed on me, and his dark blood poured into my mouth. I gagged, but I could not avoid swallowing."

"And that is what caused your wife to become…infected with vampirism. The Count's blood must have been powerful enough to bring her back from the dead of its own accord, Doctor Watson. Slow as the process was," Jonathan concluded. "Now we need her knowledge about Isadora Klein and her associates, so that we can either…persuade…her to turn away from her dark plans for subterfuge and extending her tendrils into the heart of government – or we will have to wipe out her and her nest!"

"To save humanity – or your own kind?" Sherlock asked pointedly.

Mina gave him a grim smile. "Both," she replied. "Jonathan and I may no longer be human in your eyes. But we still feel a duty to our native country, Mr Holmes. And what Klein has been doing…risks the exposure of those like us."

"We are creatures of the shadows. And that is how we should remain," Mr Harker observed with a wry smile. "Not long ago, both Mina and I were the victims of vampires. We would have said that they were all monsters. But now that we are both undead ourselves, we know that some vampires are not so wicked in heart. We can even be the destroyers of evil."

"When you are on the prowl, you feed on the guilty," Sherlock reasoned.

"Yes. In a city the size of London, it is easy to find the right kind of criminals who don't deserve another chance. And we are very careful about hiding the evidence of our kills. Unlike Klein and her rabble." Jonathan Harker looked directly at Sherlock, knowing what was coming next.

The great detective slammed his fists upon the table. "It is not for you to act as judge, jury, and executioner!" he cried out.

"If you were like us, you would not think that way, Mr Holmes. We must admit to there being a touch of evil in the pair of us," Mrs Harker spoke up. "But when we drink from our victims, we form a psychic link to them. Images of their deeds and natures flash into our minds from whatever our panicking prey is thinking at the time. We can sense how good or bad they are. We do not kill the innocent. That takes a good deal of discipline and self-control. Do not us chide for that!"

Holmes said nothing at first as he fumed. Then his eyes flicked across to me. I could tell what he was thinking.

"I need to learn self-control from Mr and Mrs Harker. They need to teach me what Isadora Klein was not willing to tell me," I conceded.

"Only if you are happy to accept us, Mrs Watson," Jonathan Harker dipped his head respectfully to me. "We are of…different bloodlines. So we cannot view each other as blood siblings. But we would be happy if we became…cousins. We would still be family."

I sighed. "I have no family now – except for John, here." I glanced at him, suddenly struck by a thought. "You are not writing any of this down, dear," I teased him, smirking.

His throat bobbed. It was one of his mannerisms that I had previously found endearing, but I could not think of his throat for too long now, least my terrible thirst returned and make me want to bite him there and then…

"Should I even take notes? Who would believe any account of this?" John pointed out, unaware of why I had forced myself to look away from him. "I am still trying to take in everything I have seen and heard tonight! And yet, I am so grateful to have you back, Mary!" he said tenderly.

My smirk sagged as I thought of the difficulties that John and I would now face – and, with me still being new to my vampiric state, I was sure that I hadn't considered even half of them. I also did not have the heart at that moment to point out the problems to my husband…

"I still have a good memory, John," I announced, patting his hand as I forced myself to deal with the present moment, instead of brooding. "I will try to write up an account of what was said here."

"We still need to hear your story, Mrs Watson," Sherlock remarked, as he focussed his attention on me.

I fell quiet and paused before speaking – gathering my thoughts.

"You both know about how that awful man – Count Dolingen – caused me to die," I began.

John and Sherlock nodded.

"I remember the agony of his bite. My blood flowing out of my body, leaving me weak, unable to save myself. I remember dying… Oh god, I remember dying! My body shutting down – one part at a time. I had never been so terrified in my life…," I whispered, shivering from the awful memories.

John took hold of my hand and gently held it. I gave a grateful smile as I curled my fingers around his warm skin.

"Both Mina and I recall our mortal deaths, only too well," Jonathan muttered in sympathy. "But for you, Mrs Watson – being fatally attacked by a vampire out of nowhere. Not knowing why…"

I nodded in agreement with him, appreciating his understanding.

"The hospital room went dark around me," I pressed on. "I felt myself being detached from my body. My…spirit…must have gone somewhere else. But my recall is so fuzzy – almost as if my memory has been wiped by a higher authority. The next clear memory I do have, so far… Is waking up in a confined space, no light. I did not know where I was. Nor why I was alone, in the dark. I tried to scream, as I banged my hands against the wood that I had bumped my face into – but only a hoarse croak came out of my mouth. I thought I was going to suffocate! Then it slowly dawned on me…that I wasn't even breathing…"

John squeezed my fingers. His eyes were moist.

Sherlock looked disturbed.

"In my blind panic, I smashed the wood that was just above me. It took several blows – but I was like a madwoman, desperate to break out. Then, when I did, soil fell on me. On my face. I would have screamed if I only could have done so. Instead, I forced myself up and up – and eventually I managed to break through the earth holding me down, and I smelt the wonderful night air. Only then, did I realise that I was in a cemetery. And that I had been lying in a coffin. A buried coffin!

"My memories slowly came back to me. And then I realised that I had died. And that, somehow, I had come back from the dead," I added. "I started to remember the Penny Dreadful tales and the like, that I had read when I had been younger. With my hands shaking, I carefully felt my teeth. My canine teeth were sharp. And then I accidentally bit myself. Some new instinct told me to lick the wound. So I did, and it soon healed. More to the point, the taste of my own blood did not repulse me. I wanted more. I was dry – as if there was no moisture in my throat. I needed blood – but warm blood. Fresh blood.

"And with those thoughts, I started to understand what I had become, John, Mr Holmes," I told them. "And why it had happened. The man who killed me had been a vampire. He was my vampiric sire – but he accidently turned me into one of his kind as we both died. Now, since I have escaped the control of Isadora Klein, I have become my own agent."

"At some point, after causing parts of your coffin to be scattered from your grave, you sat on the nearby bench, to recover from your shock. And to think." Sherlock interrupted. "Then you stumbled through the undergrowth, where a tree branch ripped at your death gown, snagging a sample of material. After that, you entered the tool shed – where you killed that tramp, as a result of your newfound hunger," he reasoned.

I closed my eyes momentarily, and shuddered, nodding. "I could not stop myself. I was like a wild animal, acting solely on instinct – obeying the need to kill, to feed," I tried to explain it to them. "His blood cleared the fog in my head – but I was now frightened and appalled at what I had done!"

Sherlock leaned forward in his seat to regard me. "Then another vampire found you – alerted by the noise and scent caused by your hunt, no doubt. Was it Isadora Klein?"

"Yes, it was," I confirmed. "I was confronted by a refined-looking lady, dressed in black, standing at the doorway to the shed. She regarded me as if I was an exhibit at the zoo. But then she smiled at me. I came to realise that she was delighted that I had already made my first kill."

"So what happened between you two?" Mr Holmes asked me.

"I instinctively hissed at her and shot to my feet, furious that my…meal…had been disturbed. I tried to lash out at her with my sharp fingernails and my fangs, wanting to drink her blood as well. But she blocked my attack and held me firm. I was astonished at her strength. It was not that of a normal woman. And then she opened her mouth and allowed her own fangs to grow as I was held. She bit me, and so she stole some of the blood I had just drunk. As soon as I instinctively knew I was dealing with a superior being of the same…kind…as myself, and that I had to submit to her, the woman withdrew her fangs out of me. Then she instructed me how to force myself to breath, so that I could speak again as I exhaled.

"Who…are…you? What has…happened…to me?" I rasped; my lips still moist from the blood I had consumed.

"You will refer to me as Madam Obsidian, child," the proud-looking woman informed me, in an accent that I realised was Spanish. "I will help you adjust to your new life, Mary Watson."

"How do…you know…who I am?"

"I read the newspaper report of your death, my dear. Including the mysterious disappearance of your killer. I could see what the witless mortals could not. You were bled to death by a vampire, young lady. There was the potential that you would rise from your grave, so I noted the date of your funeral – then I got my coachman to drive me to the cemetery gates after sunset. Sunlight weakens our kind – but with experience you can build up a tolerance against it. But the night…! The night is our time – and I knew if you would emerge from your coffin, it would be not long after sunset. And so I was by the main gates when I saw you return from the dead. I followed you to this shed."

"I am now…a vampire…?" I gasped, knowing that it was true. After all, I could not deny the evidence of the man I had murdered and…fed…upon.

"En efecto. Indeed you are," 'Madam Obsidian' told me, as she glanced at the man I had murdered. "Your first kill was…sloppy. But that is typical for a newborn who has had to fend for themselves. My girls and I will teach you how to feed in a more controlled manner. You will not always have to take a life. We will provide a new home for you – one where you will be looked after by other ladies…of the night." She chuckled at those words. "You are now…superior…to the mortals that you once mingled with. Stronger. We are predators – and they are our prey. You will come to enjoy your new existence, my dear."

"She was saying too much for me to take in at once – but I homed in what alarmed me the most.

' "A new home…!?" By this stage, I was managing better the trick of forcing myself to breath, so that my vocal cords could work as I exhaled. "But I…I have a home… Oh god! John, Martha, Mr Holmes… They think…I am dead!" I exclaimed.

"You are dead, Mary Watson. More accurately, you are undead. Your mortal life is over, and you must leave those you knew behind. Siempre! Forever. For your own good. As well as theirs," Madam Obsidian instructed me – her stern tone overriding my raised objections."

Mr Holmes shifted in his seat and rubbed his hands. "Most enlightening, Mrs Watson. Prey continue!"

I hung my head. "Klein told me that she would do her best to make the murder of my victim look like suicide. And that she would give a demonstration of her powers, as a vampire who had accepted her nature. Powers that could – in due time - also be mine, if I accepted her guardianship over me. So, as instructed by Klein, I finished my meal, leaving some for her – before I stepped outside and closed the shed door. Imagine my surprise when, a minute later, I saw a thick mist billow out of the shed window that had just been smashed from inside. Soon, the mist had reformed itself into Madam Obsidian. In time, I would learn her true identity as Isadora Klein. I had read your account of the 'Three Gables', John – and that helped me to arrive at the truth.

"Then she escorted me to her coach. Again, Klein turned into mist and simply drifted through the gaps between the gates. Reforming back into her solid body, she smirked at me and said, "Now for your first test as a newborn vampire, Mary. Let us see if you can tap into your acquired instincts and turn into mist – or perhaps shift into some small creature of the night – and pass through these gates. Not all of our kind share all of the same abilities – and the older we are of the blood, and the more skilled we become, the more abilities each of us acquires. But even as fresh as you are from your grave, having just fed for the first time, you should be able to do something that no mortal can! You need to search inside of yourself and draw upon that budding power."

So I concentrated, focussing inwards. After about a minute, I found myself suddenly dissolving into a thick mist, yet shrinking at the same time. Seconds later, I had reformed. The world looked different. I could smell and hear a huge array of scents and amplified sounds. I could taste the air, and I realised that I was feeling the twitch of newly grown whiskers. I then looked down upon myself, and discovered that I had turned into a cat!"

I looked intently at John and Mr Holmes as I said this, wanting to see their reactions. The latter regarded me with sustained interest, staring back at me with his keen grey eyes, over his steepled fingers. Meanwhile, John looked incredulous.

"If you can already shapeshift, Mrs Watson,..," Mr Holmes spoke up. "…how come you were unable to escape your shackles by the time we found you?"

"A fair question," I conceded. "Misting and shapeshifting takes concentration and energy. But in that cell…, I was being starved of blood – and so I could not escape, unless I fed from the children. Particularly from the teenage girl on her…monthly. That is what the Mistress wanted me to do. She wanted to break my rebellious spirit. But I refused to feed from Ollie and Olive. It was not easy. It was instead sheer torture – and I was slowly becoming more feral as a result of my abstinence. If I had not fed upon that vile man, Grimes, I might have… Dear lord! I could have bitten…"

"You stated at the time, in that cell, that it was dangerous to release you. I understand," Sherlock interrupted, sparing me from telling John that I could have killed him and his friend. "Fortunately for us, you eliminated Grimes at the right time, saving all of us. I am indebted to you, dear lady."

I gave a small smile at Sherlock Holmes' curtesy. For a man who seemed to distrust and dislike woman on a private level – according to John's accounts of him – Mr Holmes could still pleasantly surprise me when he made the effort to be a gallant gentleman.

"Going back to your time at the cemetery…," John changed the course of the conversation as he nervously cleared his throat. "You…transformed…into a cat, and slipped through the gates, in order to join Klein. What happened then?" he prompted me.

"I could not change back at first, and so I panicked. Klein picked me up and took me into her coach. And so I was taken to Cherry Tree House, where I managed…after Klein gave me a little of her dark blood…to change back into Mary Watson. After that, Klein made it clear to me that if I wanted to be cared for by my new kind, I had to accept obedience to my new teacher. My new Mistress," I huffed, blowing a loose, blonde tangle of my hair that was hanging over my forehead. "I could not leave the house without Klein's permission. To my horror, I found out over the course of the next few days what the other girls actually did. And that I would have to learn an apprenticeship as a…woman of the night. As a…scarlet woman, working in a brothel – or, as Klein calls us, her crimson women. I would wear the red robes of one of the Mistress's vampires. Furthermore, I now had to answer to a gemstone name of my choice, whilst Mary Watson would cease to be. After all, I was dead. But worst of all, I was forbidden from having any contact whatsoever with the people I knew and loved."

I looked unflinchingly at John and Sherlock, as I straightened up, saying the last words. "My new Mistress told me that to protect our existence, we had to keep our vampiric natures hidden from anyone who knew us in our mortal lives. That gave me pause for reflection. I wanted to say one last goodbye to John. Furthermore, it struck me that I could leave a clue with John that my visit to him was not a dream after all, even as I learnt how to beguile him. So that the vampire who was assisting me at the time did not realise what I was really doing."

"The chaplet of pearls from the Agra treasure. I had them buried with you." John nodded. "It seemed proper in my mind to do so."

I smiled gratefully at John, and I raised his hand to my lips in order to kiss it.

"You choose Turquoise as the gemstone by which you would be referred to in…that house. After your eyes?" John breathed.

I nodded.

"So you defied Klein's instructions and took a grave risk in leaving behind a clue for Watson," Sherlock declared, looking at me with what looked like admiration. "Why did one of the other vampires help you, Mrs Watson?"

"I made the effort to socialise with the other crimson women at Cherry Tree House – as I sought to find the one who would be the most likely to take pity on me, and grant me one last visit to John, even as I sought to make him think my appearance in the night was a wishful dream," I told my audience. "Amongst the other red robes, I soon identified Opal as the vampiress who most resented the loss of her mortality. A Chinese girl who had a sly, half-hidden streak of non-conformity to her. I managed to get her to agree to escorting me out of the house, during a night when the Mistress was out hunting for herself. Even then, I did not trust Opal enough to tell her about my chaplet of pearls. And so she never knew about them as I placed them into a crack on the back wall of the house. A crack that I enlarged that night with my clawed hands as I climbed the wall leading to the bedroom."

"And having left the pearls in the wall, you returned to Cherry Tree House with your vampiric companion," John stated. Sadly.

"Do you think that I had the choice to remain with you at the time, John?" I countered. "Opal only wanted to grant me a chance to say goodbye to you – then to return to Cherry Tree House with me. My new…home. Our den of vipers. For that's what I now was, in a way. A viper – like my new 'sisters'. A predator with fangs. And although I was not happy at my new circumstances, I needed to learn as much as I could about my new nature. How to develop my latent vampiric powers. How to control my terrible thirst. And I still need to do these things!"

"Even as a newborn, you already have the first primal instinct of a vampire, Mrs Watson," Jonathan Harker spoke up. "And it is not drinking blood – that comes a close second to the vital motivation that is core to all vampires…"

"…which is to survive. To survive at all costs. We have already died – and the condition within us urges us to never die again. To make the most of our immortality. No matter what the consequences are to the mortals we ensnare," Mina Harker added, giving a wry smile.

"I take it vampires do not commit suicide?" Sherlock put to the couple.

"It would take a remarkable test of will for a vampire to kill themselves. Or so our elder sisters have told us," Jonathan replied. "According to what they have learnt during their centuries, vampire suicide is almost unknown."

"Tell us more about Cherry Tree House, Mrs Watson," Sherlock pressed me. "The people in it. And why you were chained up when we found you."

I nodded. "The red-robbed women are vampires like Klein and me. John has told me that Garnet is now dead – so that will leave Klein and maybe five other vampires, now. Whilst the white robes are…ordinary. Mortal. I have not spoken to all of the white robes – but they are prostitutes, of varying years of experience, who have fallen into Klein's clutches. Now they are also effectively prisoners. As I was."

"How so?"

I pulled a face. "Klein and her fellow vipers have learnt how to use the bite of a vampire to seduce those we feed upon, Mr Holmes. It is apparently an…exquisite sensation. It keeps the white robes bound to us. Living with us. They go about their lives during the day, shopping and visiting their relatives, for example. But the white robes are addicted to our bites. They depend upon Klein for their jobs, for a roof over their heads at night, and for protection from whatever in their past drove them into prostitution. And the clients who come to Cherry Tree House become addicted to us, also. Because of our bites. Because of our ability to hypnotise and beguile them."

I paused, and then continued. "The male clientele at Cherry Tree House builds by having a man – and they are all men in important jobs – such as in law or medicine or engineering or transportation management – being allocated to a white robe for his first visit or so. Then, depending on Klein's judgement, on the next visit he will be allocated to a red robe – who will make love to him in any way she wants, before biting him. As I have stated, our bites act as a drug – and the client soon becomes another toy for Klein and her loyal red robes to manipulate, so that he brings in his friends and important colleagues to us, for the red robes to extend the line of seduction and control."

"To what end?" asked Sherlock. I tried to read his expression. It struck me as one of…disgust.

I raised my shoulders and let them slump back down. "I am not sure, Mr Holmes. Klein told me that our kind must have control over the men in power, so that we can survive. Surviving by seducing, and feeding from, our clientele. But it may be more. I understand that Klein and Count Dolingen began the business – with Klein acting as the Mistress of the house. It may be that Klein seeks power for the sake of it. Thirsts for it, as she thirsts for fresh blood."

"And the abduction of those children?" John bristled.

"The Mistress orders the red robes to abduct homeless children," I answered, my lip trembling as I fought to hold back my anger. "They are brought to Cherry Tree House, to be used as…food. To be drained, and then dumped. And that boy you rescued… Grimes abused him. From behind, if you understand what I mean…"

"My god…," John whispered, holding a hand to his face as he shook his head in disbelief. He understood.

"And so now that our fears about that house of vice have been confirmed, we need to decide what to do about Isadora Klein and her remaining followers," Jonathan Harker surmised. "Can we find an ally in this Opal, who allowed you to leave the house that one night, Mrs Watson?"

I hung my head. "I am afraid not. The Mistress learnt of our joint disappearance from the house, after we had returned. One of the white robes had observed us leaving and returning. We were both duly punished for our actions…"

"So that is why you were chained up," John breathed. "Starved of blood, to push you into killing those poor children."

I nodded. "Klein had me seized by the other red robes. All of them bit me, to weaken me. Then I was stripped of my own red robe – before being chained up in the room where you found me. The Mistress wanted me to learn obedience and conformity to her rules. I was left with nothing to feed upon, apart from that boy and girl. If I could use my waning strength to drain them dry, I would become strong enough to turn my ankles and wrists into mist – enough to free myself of my chains. Otherwise, my refusal to kill the children would leave me becoming feral and mad." I shuddered, as if someone had…walked over my grave. "It is sheer torture. I still remember the hot days whilst I was in India. Where the air itself was thick and humid with heat. But being chained up and starved of blood, where every part of your body feels that it is turning into dry sand… It seemed worse. Even so, I do not think that it is possible to kill a vampire by starving him, or her. I am truly thankful that you men found and released me just at the right time."

"What happened to Opal? You say that we cannot rely on her as a future ally," Mrs Harker spoke up, breaking me from my speculative thoughts.

I felt a chill run through my stolen blood as I remembered the scene. And I shivered.

"Soon after I was chained up. Before Olly and Olive were brought in from their cells…. Klein and the other red robes dragged in Opal between them. Like me, she was stripped of her red robe. In addition, she had already been bitten and half-drained," I began to explain. "Klein gave a lecture to all of her women, including me, on the need to conform and obey the rules set by her. 'For our mutual survival', she told us. 'To ensure that we are safe from the mortal authorities not under our control If they became wise as to our existence, what we are capable of… They will hunt us down, and they could destroy us!'

"I remember Ruby nodding and agreeing with her. Ruby is the second oldest of us, I was told. She is Klein's chief of staff over the girls. And there is no mercy in her. Her cold eyes betrayed this fact in advance. She ruled over us with a rod of iron.

'Our lord is dead – but we trust your judgement, Mistress Obsidian', she said. 'We have all been given the wonderful gift of immortality by you – and WE must keep our status as the supreme hunters over the mortal herd. They must never turn the tables on us and make us their prey. We were weak enough when we were mortal ladies. Now, we are stronger than any man!'

"Klein smiled at the murmur of agreement amongst the red robes that Ruby had helped to bring forth. She resumed her speech.

" 'Opal here has rebelled against myself and our lost Lord Dolingen too many times. But no more! My fellow kindred… You are permitted to drain her dry!'

"There was a chorus of 'Thank you, Mistress' from the red robes as they parted their red lips and licked their growing, drooling fangs. Then they dived upon Opal as she gave a hoarse cry of panic – the nearest thing she could manage to a scream."

My hands clenched into fists. Even though I only needed to breathe, in order to speak, I still took a series of deep breaths to steady my nerves before I could summon my voice, to cry out my horror.

"Once the red robes had drained poor Opal dry, on the floor of that dreadful room where you men found me, Klein bent down and seized the barely conscious girl. The 'Mistress' clamped her hands on either side of Opal's head, and… Oh, dear god! I will never forget Opal's look of terror. Klein squeezed and squeezed… Until her skull caved in."

I started to weep at the memory of the ghastliest sight I had ever experienced. Well…, with the exception of my killing of that unfortunate tramp.

John squeezed my hand and then passed me his handkerchief. I used it to dab my tears. They were red, of course. Vampires weep blood, I had already learnt through my experience at Cherry Tree House.

There was silence for a long moment as the Harkers looked at me with understanding and pity. John's hands clenched on the table as he fought to compose himself. Whilst the expression on the face of Sherlock Holmes, despite his self-control, subtly became more disgusted and furious. I wanted Klein to see that contained anger unleashed upon her – despite the danger that such an encounter would bring to Sherlock. I wanted my former Mistress to realise, that – despite her supernatural strength and nature – she would become the endangered prey if Sherlock bore his collective intellect and energy towards dealing with her, once and for all.

"So… If you had killed the children, Isadora Klein would've accepted you back, as her slave?" John managed to croak, breaking my mind away from Opal's fate.

I nodded. "She wanted me broken to her will. But alive. Well… As alive as being undead counts."

"Oh Mary…! I think I have heard enough for tonight," John muttered, rubbing the skin around his eyes. "Holmes and I need to get you home, and…" He trailed off as I shook my head sadly.

"John… I have returned from the grave. But I am legally dead, am I not? How would we explain my reappearance to Kaitlyn? Or my avoidance to daylight? Or my need to drink human blood on a nightly basis?" I put to him, smiling sadly.

His shoulders slumped with realisation, and he turned to the Harkers, pleading to them without words.

"We will take care of Mrs Watson – if she is happy for us to do so. But she will never be treated as a prisoner by us. We are…better…vampires than 'Mistress Obsidian'," Mrs Harker declared.

Her husband nodded his agreement.

"And will I…be allowed to visit Mary, here?"

"Yes, you will," Mr Harker answered with a smile.

"There is one matter I wish to resolve in my mind, right now," Holmes spoke up, addressing the Harkers. "The bone dagger that killed Count Dolingen… It is the same one that Irene Adler used tonight, against Garnet, is it not?"

"It is the only one we know of," Jonathan Harker answered. "When we learnt about it, whilst Inspector Lestrade was beguiled by my wife, we managed to get him to retrieve it from where it was stored. Both Lestrade and the inventory keeper had their memories of the encounter with us wiped from their mind. Then we gave the weapon to Irene, for her protection, going into Cherry Tree Lodge."

"It was the weapon that killed Count Dolingen – and Adler used it to kill Garnet," John remarked. "It must be powerful, for it to destroy two vampires so easily."

Mrs Harker nodded. "We suspect the bone to be from a vampire. The weapon being created in some mystic way."

"Your powers at manipulating mortals are impressive. I am pleased that they are not directed at us," Holmes remarked with a rueful smile. "But that means that Klein and her kind…"

"They will be older in the blood than us – that is to say, they have been vampires longer than we are. And, as a general rule, that will mean that they may be more powerful. If they have pushed themselves to learn their budding powers, that is," Mrs Harker pointed out.

John then turned to Sherlock and voiced another concern. "Holmes! We need to decide what to do about that wretched house of vice. And how to deal with Klein and her associates!"

"Quite so, Watson. I need to get to Scotland Yard as soon as possible – and also check upon how Mycroft is faring. He was on the road to recovery when I last heard from the government doctor treating him." Sherlock paused, and then added. "I think it best if you checked in on Mrs Hudson – and then head back to your home, to watch over your maid. The ladies who look after us may need looking after in turn, now that Klein and her nasty brood are likely to be…out for blood."

"If it is possible…," I spoke up. "…I would like to see Martha. I will miss Mrs Forrester and Kate Whitney of course, but… Martha Hudson has become my closest friend since she and I have first talked to each other, during my initial visits to 221B Baker Street. I need…another friendly face to speak to." I was pleading to the Harkers, as well as the…mortal…men in the dining room with me.

Sherlock and John turned towards the couple who would now be my new guardians. "Well… This place is your house…," Sherlock began.

Jonathan Harker looked conflicted as he shared a look with his wife. "Mina and I would ideally wish for you men to be blindfolded and be driven to where you wish to be, by Beaver or Shiner, so that the location of this house remains secure. And for you to be collected from your homes for future visits to us. But I dare say that Mr Holmes would still work out the location of our lair, using any clue possible…"

"…such as the variation in sounds of the road surfaces and background street noise. And the condition – fresh or otherwise – of the horses. Yes, even in this vast city, I could start to narrow it down," Sherlock chuckled before his expression turned serious. "Whilst we understand your need for us not to tell others of this location – or lead any spies to your lair, it would be good if Watson and I knew the location of this house, so that we can safely get Mrs Hudson here, using a hansom."

"You must be sworn to secrecy," Mrs Harker added, biting her lip with anxiety. "If you betray our trust in yourselves…"

"We understand," John announced, straightening himself in his chair. "Likewise, I am entrusting yourselves to take good care of my wife. And for you all to avoid kil…"

"We have not killed anyone who did not deserve death, Doctor Watson." Mr Harker smiled. "That also has been the case since we arrived back in England. We have learned enough self-control to beguile innocent victims so that we take a little from them, and compel them to forget us biting them, after we leave them behind – alive."

John narrowed his eyes, as he carefully considered those words. "That is to say that you have killed some people, then…"

Mrs Harker's gaze fell upon her hands upon the table, as she sighed. "We have bestowed death upon criminals – in Transylvania, on the route back to England, and in London. Mainly thieves. And we have seen much illness and poverty along the way, gentlemen. There have been men, women, and children in such despair, that even a desperate old couple who realised what Jonathan and I were…"

"…they surrendered peacefully to death," her husband completed the ghastly picture. "We sent their souls into the next realm. We hope that they are happier there, than they were in their miserable lives here on earth."

"My word…," John breathed, clenching his fists as he squeezed the tablecloth to calm himself.

I held up my hand. "Please, John! I…I trust Mr and Mrs Harker. It will be better for me to stay with them, than for me to go home. Here, it will be harder for Klein to find me. And the Harkers…can teach me, how to learn greater control over…my thirst."

Mr Harker nodded. "You are our adoptive cousin now, Mary Watson. Mina and I will try our best to be a good family to you."

His wife gave me a reassuring smile. "We would be honoured to have you, Mary. I would like for us all become friends – as well as allies against the more unscrupulous amongst our kind."

John turned to face me. "I will return soon. Tomorrow night, if I can. I… I am so grateful to have you back, Mary. Even if…"

"…even if I am undead," I breathed. "But I guess we should be thankful that although our relationship has changed, it is certainly not over." I held his hand and squeezed it. "I am still the gentle girl you knew. I still love you, John. But…I could hurt you, if I do not…feed…enough. I have…the instincts of a predator, now," I whispered to him. "The savage nature of the thirst… I dare say that even a nun, turned into a vampire… If she was starved of blood… She would kill, in order to feed."

"I understand... Your hand, Mary… It feels cold," he observed.

I nodded. "It is because I need to feed soon. Do not…kiss my lips. It would arouse my thirst," I warned him.

Looking hurt, John instead brought my hand to his lips. He kissed that, instead.

"I love you," he told me, raising from his seat. "Be true to yourself, Mary."

"I will try." I smiled. "Be safe, John. You too, Sherlock."

The detective stood up also. He bowed to me with a smile. "I continue to admire your strength of character, Mrs Watson. Yes, I know what you are about to ask me… I will do what I can to protect and take care of your husband – as well as Mrs Hudson. In the meantime, learn what you need to from our allies here – whilst us men hunt down Klein and her associates. For now, goodnight!"