Chapter Eight:
"We Will Make This Work"
Sunday 22 April 1894 (shortly before the dawn)
Dear diary,
John has kindly brought you to me, since you were still in the bedroom of our home.
Anyway, I am now writing in these pages as a way of holding onto my previous life. For one thing, I can re-read what I had already put down in these pages before…my mortal demise. And another benefit is that it gives me something to do in the hour or so before the approaching dawn robs me of my strength and lucidity, compelling me to retreat to the guest bedroom with the thick black curtains that are never pulled apart during the day.
From what I have learned so far from my new kind, newborn vampires are the ones most prone to 'heatstroke' from direct sunlight. For want of a better term. As a newborn adjusts to their vampiric state of existence, they slowly build up resistance to direct sunlight as they gain experience and gradually grow into their power. After three years of being…undead, the Harkers can now walk about in the daylight if the sky is clouded over, or – better yet, raining. So they have told me.
The Harkers offered me the best of their spare silk-lined coffins – but I had declined, telling them that being inside a coffin again would only provoke my memories of being forced to exist as an apprentice prostitute in Cherry Tree House, where my kind slept during the day in our coffins. Or worse, trigger the half-remembered trauma of me waking up in my grave and bursting out of that coffin, to escape my confines as I feared I was about to suffocate within my wooden prison, not understanding why I was there…
I muster a brief smile as I write this. By now, I have learnt that vampires cannot suffocate. We only need to breathe in order to talk. My heart still beats, but sluggishly. I am animated by the blood I take from others – as well as by whatever unnatural forces now govern my existence.
I need to write in my diary, to express my thoughts and feelings over my new life. To still be Mary Watson – even though I am dead in the eyes of the world. I need to hold onto my…humanity. Despite that, on an instinctive level, I… Dear lord! I actually enjoyed killing the two men whose lives I cut short as I drained the wonderful, warm, pumping blood from them. I relished the power I had over them, as I drained them dry – proving myself to be a competent, capable hunter who was physically superior to those men. A part of me felt proud at my deadly achievements.
I shudder at what I have done. Yet, at the same time, I know that by killing that ghastly Mr Grimes I saved John's life. Probably Sherlock's also. A part of me tells myself that I am now a predator – and that predators do not cry for their prey. I should feel no guilt for ending Mr Grimes. Telling myself I have broken God's law is foolish, the vampiric part of me whispers. And yet, I still feel grief for killing that poor beggar, Mr Bray. But again, a part of me is saying that since he had such a pitiful life, ending it was a mercy, not a cruelty. The predator within my mind tells me the mortal human race is a vast herd, and those who are weak and unworthy of life need to be culled – whilst I must survive, at their expense.
Did I go to heaven when I was dead? I do not clearly recall. I seem to have a vague sense of meeting my parents in a bright house that reminded me of the one we had lived in, whilst in India. There was some…force…that prevented them from embracing me, even though we wanted to hold each other. I think father told me that I was still bound to the earth, and that I had to decide my own fate. I had been given a second chance. Mother added that my path was not easy – but that I had to be true to myself and be strong. Yes, they both loved me – but there were others who loved me also. People still living on earth. People who needed me.
The last impression I received in this dreamlike world, before the vision ended, was that no matter how long I would live, I would meet mother and father again. Smiling, they both said they would wait to see me and my husband, who they approved of whenever they looked in on me from where they were. We would meet again when the time was right. No matter how long it would take…
I wipe away my tears. The red tears of a vampire.
I need to be strong. For my own sake – as well as those helping me.
I have already written of my release from Cherry Tree House on the twentieth of April. Now, I will write briefly of my first full night at the Harker's hired residence. The night after my rescue – and the gathering of my friends and new allies.
As the sun sank below the horizon, I instinctively awoke – my eyelids fluttering open. And although I have discovered that vampires do not sweat, I still washed myself before breakfast, as the other red robes had when I was one of their number. Back then, I would sip on the blood of a prisoner who had been brought before me in my bedroom, biting into their bared wrist – before I met any clients on my nights of 'work'.
With the addition of myself to the vampire population of the house, Irene Adler had been instructed to attend to me this evening, and so she helped to wash my back.
"This is surely beneath you, Miss Adler," I remarked. "How do you feel about being…a servant…to the Harkers?"
"I honestly do not mind, Mrs Watson. And yes, I am their willing servant – just like Leonie and the boys. We are not slaves," she told me. "I am happy working for the Harkers. Despite their…nature…they are good people. They send me on the occasional mission, where they know my acting and my more…criminal skills…will come in useful."
"Such as managing to get yourself employed as a maid at Cherry Tree House," I pointed out, taking the towel Irene offered me after she had wiped me down with a flannelette. I was no longer concerned about maintaining my modesty around other women. One of the lessons amongst my experiences in that vipers' den had taught me that, try as I did to avoid it, the more senior vampires there made sure that I did not hide my body when I was forced to make love to a client. And Garnet herself liked to nip and kiss my neck whenever we had both drank from a man that we had jointly made love to.
I hated her touch. Hated her tongue lapping at my vampire blood. She then tried to get me to grovel and beg for her blood in return – but I refused to play that game. Garnet was not happy at my resistance. In fact, she had pinned me against a wall, whilst our client was still groggy on the bed from his blood loss. But Garnet eventually let me go, taunting me that "It is just a matter of time before you accept your place amongst the hierarchy of our kind in this house, Turquoise…! We may have no Master now, since that night he died whilst draining the mortality out of you. But we still have our Mistress. And if you wish to survive – to thrive – here, you will conform and give in to your betters. As vampires, we are beyond the reach of God – so you might as well enjoy your new-found hungers, girl…"
"You are squirming, Mrs Watson! Are you all right?" Irene asked me, bringing me sharply back to the moment at hand.
"Y-yes! I am sorry," I gasped. "Just a bad memory of what I had to suffer, in that house…" I trailed off, thinking, as I finished wiping myself dry.
"I am glad that I helped to get you out, dear," Irene told me. "Is this place more to your liking? The Harkers were lucky to buy a house that is large enough for their needs. Including a training room for the Master and Mistress to fight in, and a cold pantry for storing our bottled pigs' blood."
"I am liking the house so far, yes… Wait! The Harkers fight each other?" I raised an eyebrow.
Irene grinned. "For training purposes, yes. And they will train you to fight also."
"I see. Anything else about the house that I should know, right now?"
"Yes. Any visitors should not smoke in this old house. The gas here is not the natural kind – it is coal gas, which…"
"…which is more volatile. I will make sure that my husband and Mr Holmes do not light their pipes inside when seeing anyone here," I vowed. "I take it Mr Harker does not smoke?"
"Vampires are wary of fire, dear. It is one of the few things that will scare you more than it scares ordinary humans. And as I understand it, vampires do not smoke cigarettes or pipes…"
"…because we have to force ourselves to breath, in order to have air in our lungs with which to speak with our vocal cords." I nodded in understanding. "Inhaling tobacco and smoke… It would be more of an effort for us, especially if we don't like a little heat in our lungs. Well… I had no plans to start smoking in any case," I declared, managing a faint smile.
Irene read my pensive expression. "Is there something else on your mind, Mrs Watson?"
"Yes. My understanding is that the…mortal staff…at Cherry Tree House all had to be bound by blood to 'Mistress Obsidian'. So that she could be sure of their loyalty and discretion. How did you…?"
"…overcome the effects of the bonding session that Klein forced upon me?" Irene chuckled. "The answer is that I am already bound by blood to Mr Harker, dear. He feeds me his blood, from his cut wrist, roughly once a week – without taking mine."
I raised an eyebrow. "Mr Grimes and Mr Dixie at that house… I heard that they too had the same arrangement. In their case to Isadora Klein."
"Such people like them and me are called Followers amongst vampire kind. And a Follower's bond to a vampire cannot be overwritten by another bond. The original vampire master would have to die first. So, you see I was already immune to Klein's attempt to force me into slavery. And thus, my act of 'betrayal' when I freed you, caught Klein and her kin by surprise."
"And Leonie and the three boys who serve here? Are they Followers too?"
"No – just myself. Becoming a Follower is not something to be taken lightly. I became Mr Harker's Follower out of my own free will – but now I must taste his blood each week, to reinforce the bond and drew strength from it. Otherwise…"
"…you would suffer withdrawal symptoms? Like a drug addict?" I gasped.
Irene gave a sharp nod. "Do not feel sorry for me. My bond was instrumental to me being able to save you, your husband, and Mr Holmes. And the children."
I nodded my understanding. "I am grateful to you, Miss Adler. You are a remarkable lady, and you have my admiration."
There was warmth in her eyes as she gazed back at me. "I would like your friendship too, if possible. We can start by using each other's Christian names," she suggested.
"Very well…Irene. Let us do that. I am Mary." I curtsied to her, smiling.
She dipped her head in response. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mary."
An idea came to my mind as I thought of John's account of this woman, and I grinned. "Irene… Can you teach me how to dress and present myself as a man?"
She laughed. "I would be honoured to do so, Mary. Let me guess… You want to be able to move more freely amongst the streets, at night…"
"…in order to hunt, yes. Am I that that easy to read?" I frowned.
"You are – but only because Mrs Harker has already had the same idea as yourself," Irene explained with a smirk. "We have a variety of clothing in this house. A match for the wardrobe of disguises of Sherlock Holmes, himself! But I'll teach you when the chance arises, my dear Mary. I can hear the Harkers in the dining room – and your breakfast glass of pig's blood awaits you!"
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
That night at the Harkers' residence, after my breakfast, was my introduction to my second series of lessons in how to adapt to my new existence as a vampire. My first set of sessions had been – for the most part – learning respect for, and obedience towards, Klein and the red robes. Also, in learning how to seduce our clients and make passionate love to them – before beguiling them and striking at the right parts of their bodies, in order to draw off their wonderful blood, without killing the men. I had to learn more about human anatomy than I had already learnt from school. After all, it had already been drilled into me by Klein and the red robes that I was now a predator that stood at the top of the food chain – like my new 'sisters' and adoptive 'Mistress'. I had to learn how to effectively disable, wound, or kill my prey – and add that acquired knowledge to my aroused instincts.
It was a world away from the one that I had grown up in whilst I had been alive. Had I still been mortal, a civilised English woman, I would never have willingly killed anyone – let alone even think of draining them of their blood and enjoying the warmth and taste of it. But my physical transformation, having slowly taken place whilst I had lain dead for several days – along with my newly-awakened dark instincts - had forced something of a mental change in me, also. I was still the bright, if rather meek Mary Watson, with my memories and personality intact. But now I had to drink fresh blood at least once every night. My instincts to hunt, bite, and feed were ingrained into me, so that I would obey the greatest instinct that I now possessed. And that was to survive. To survive at any cost.
Even if that meant killing people, whilst I robbed them of their inner vitality…
God help me! In my first nights since I had risen from my grave I had wanted to return to my mortal life – only to soon be told that it was impossible. That my transformation was not a matter of simply being cured from an infection – but it was a change made by supernatural forces that even the Harkers did not fully understand. So, I had to embrace and develop my new skills and abilities, in order to be stronger than any vampire who came after me. At the same time, I wanted to hold onto my inner humanity. And for that I needed to be with John, with Martha, and I needed the protection of the cleverest man we all knew – Sherlock Holmes.
But it was not going to be easy to reconcile myself with John, to be with him, as we should as husband and wife. I was ashamed of myself in another way – thanks to my experiences as a resident at Cherry Tree House. I write not only of my feeding upon the clients, when whichever red robe was with me permitted it – but of me being obliged to make love to them first. Garnet in particular was…creative…in teaching me ways of carnal pleasure that I had never heard of before. Ways that disgusted me. Thanks to her, I now know of all the various places on the surface of the human body where I can cut with a mentally-conjured claw, or stab my fangs, into a vein of delicious, warming blood. I have learned how much to drink from a mortal and know when to force myself to stop, so that I do not kill them.
Every time I had made love to a client, my eyes had threatened to weep blood as I thought of my failure to stay faithful to John. Even though he believed me to be dead.
Even as I write this down, I shudder. I hate what Klein and her creatures forced me to do, in order to feed, whilst I was told I had to stay with them for my own good. Instead, Klein wanted me to be another prostitute, another tool, under her control – so that her power and corruption amongst the London elite could grow.
By contrast, instead of forcing obedience into me, the Harkers first tested me on my anatomical knowledge. Satisfied that I had already learnt enough, they then had me blindfolded and led into a room within their house where there was no light shining though the material covering my eyes. I had to first use my enhanced vampiric hearing and smell to detect where the Harkers were. Next, I had to avoid the sweep of their wooden staffs – to dodge, duck, dive, and finally grasp their practice weapons with my hands by anticipating the next attack. I had to learn to fight. Something that my parents had never taught me – not even my army father.
The session was hard work. Us vampires have sluggish heartbeats, so it was more difficult to detect the Harkers than if Beaver or Shiner had fought against me. And my new kindred do not sweat, so I had to be alert instead for the scent of the Harkers' clothes, the smell of the wooden staffs, and the shift in the air as the staffs moved. But by the end of the lesson I was being knocked to the floor less often, and I eventually managed to intercept one staff and use Mr Harker's attack to throw him off balance.
At least we heal quickly from bruises…
Finally, Mina called out "Stop!" She then removed my blindfold – and I could see that she and her floor-bound husband were smiling at me.
"Congratulations, Mrs Watson. You are a good pupil," Jonathan Harker complimented me as he got to his feet.
I bowed my head. If I could still blush, I would have. But that is another subtle human trait now denied to me – along with other things, such as eating solid food. I wished that I could eat fresh bread and muffins, or even an orange. But I had tried eating various foods when I had been in the company of the white robed girls of Cherry Tree House. Everything I ate would not stay down. I made myself sick every time, and so I gave up. The taste of solid food no longer appealed to me, anyway. Not even the smell of it.
The smell of fresh blood, however… That would forever make my canine teeth tingle within their gums, waiting for me to flex my tendons so that they could length into questing fangs…
"Please call me Mary," I told my tutors. "We need to trust each other now."
"Of course, Mary. In that case, we are Mina and Jonathan from this moment on – and we will be a loving family for you," Mina whispered, hugging me tenderly.
"We will try our best, anyway," Jonathan added, smiling, as he came over to pat my shoulder. Then he went still.
My ears picked up a heartbeat behind the door to the room. It was steady with a normal pace and rhythm, so therefore it was a mortal's. Even before Jonathan asked the knock, I knew who it was. The footsteps had been light…
The thought struck me that I could be useful to John and Sherlock in their pursuit of criminals. And being on the hunt of hardened fugitives suddenly did not scare me, as it would have done before my mortal death. It seemed like a line of work I could easily get my teeth into…
"Yes Irene. What is it?"
"Mr Watson has come to visit his wife, sir," she answered from the doorway.
I sighed with relief. At the same time, I was anxious of seeing him alone. I was not afraid of losing control – I would take another glass of pigs' blood with me, to guard against that. No, I was afraid of the barriers that had been imposed between my husband and myself. The barriers between the living and the undead. The barriers that I was starting to understand and hate, as a result of learning about my new state of existence.
John and I met in the lounge for our private talk. The Harkers had permitted me to take my second glass of pigs' blood from their larder, and so I had it with me, so that I would not even think of nipping at John's neck.
John himself looked as though he had been in a fight. There was a plaster covering his cheek, and a vivid bruise on his forehead. I gasped.
He gave me a rueful smile. "It is not so bad, my dear. It could have been worse. Holmes has gone home to rest – but the thought of seeing you again tonight, gave me the strength to fight on."
I rested my hand on his shoulder, in my appreciation. "A fight? You returned to Cherry Tree House?" I enquired.
"Indeed, we did," John answered as we sat down on the sofa together. Sipping from his glass of water, he then cleared his throat and began his account of the police raid at that dreadful house that took place during the previous morning.
With Lestrade on another case, Inspector Athelney Jones had volunteered to aid Gregson and several constables on their raid on Cherry Tree House, just after sunrise. Sherlock and John had accompanied them also. Just as well, John explained to me.
Klein and her red robes had already deserted the property, taking the remaining mortal staff – Steve Dixie and the white robes with them. Well, most of them. Two young women, who the police already had listed as local prostitutes who had vanished in recent years – were found naked and dead in one bedroom, drained of blood. Two ripped white robes were found on the floor – and from John's description of the ladies, I confirmed that they had been amongst the mortal prostitutes in the house. Their real names had been Sylvie and Angela. I never knew their surnames.
"It's not clear why those two were fed upon and left behind, dead – whilst all of the others fled," John told me.
I sighed. "I can guess. Sylvie and Angela still had families, I learnt this from them in conversation. Despite having no further contact with their relatives, they were sending a portion of their earned wages to their families through Dixie. They would not have wanted…"
"…to go on the run and leave everything they had known behind. I see," John completed my line of reasoning, nodding as his mouth twitched with contained anger. "So, Klein probably ordered their deaths – to silence them."
"So how did you get injured, dear, if the raid turned up nothing?" I asked him.
John looked grim. He went on to relate the thorough search of the house, as instructed by Gregson. It became clear that the house had been cleared in a hurry, and the office was bare of any papers or money. Sherlock managed to locate the hidden safe, but it had been stripped empty. The ledger that John and Sherlock had glimpsed in the reception area was also missing.
But when the search focused on the lower levels of the house, Inspector Jones suddenly attacked Sherlock when the detective was testing the walls for secret doors. John quickly intervened in the fight, only to receive his injuries. Then Jones, who was fighting like a man possessed, was eventually knocked out by Sherlock.
I gasped. "The corruption of Klein and her women…?"
"…had evidently spread as far as Inspector Jones," John confirmed. "From what Gregson has managed to squeeze from him this afternoon, Jones had been a client of the house, reeled in by one of his friends in the senior civil service. The Inspector had evidently been planted with a hypnotic suggestion, to prevent anyone getting too close to the secrets within Cherry Tree House."
"And those secrets were… More prisoners?" I speculated.
John visibly gulped as he tried to get the next words out. "The hidden chamber of cells that Jones tried to prevent Holmes from finding… The cells contained the drained bodies of street children, Mary. Some as young as five or six. They were in various states of decomposition… There was nobody left alive. There was a wheelbarrow nearby. Dear god, they were going to be…deposed of, before our mission last night made those butchers cut their losses and run away… Even Holmes had to fight to hold onto his composure. We were all sickened by the sight, the smell…"
I held my husband's hand as he wept. After a few minutes, he eventually regained his composure.
I broke the silence that had fallen between us, with only the ticking of the clock in the background. "So…any leads as to where Klein and her red robes went to?"
"Not yet." John shook his head. "I know Holmes is keen to see Jones for himself, in his cell, to see if he can help Gregson get some results. But Jones doesn't seem to know the answer to that one. In the meantime, the police have been gathering information from the people who live close to Cherry Tree House. From what I've heard, some carriages arrived at the house to take a black man and several women passengers with their suitcases. So Klein had some resources from elsewhere to aid her."
He gave me a look and changed the subject. "So… How was your day – I mean, your night?"
I told him about my training, and my first tastings of pigs' blood – adding that I was satisfied, not only with the substitute for human blood, but also that the Harkers were treating me well so far.
John's gaze was directed towards the floor. "You lived on human blood only in Cherry Tree House?"
"Yes. I was directed to sip on blood from my clients – and I was given goblets of blood to drink. I refused to drink from the children that were presented to me to fed from." I clenched my fists and gave a snarl that made John look up at me. "The red robes refused to tell me where the goblets of blood were coming from. But it's clear now – given that you have seen other cells in that house that I did not…"
John nodded as he nervously stroked his moustache. "It wasn't just cells that we found... There was another room. Where the prisoners were tied to a slab of stone, and hooked up to tubes that drew off…their blood and poured into bottles for chilled storage in an icehouse. I have seen some truly awful examples of man's inhumanity to man, Mary. But this… This was…monstrous."
He shook again. I interlaced my fingers with his as I leaned my head against his shoulder.
But to my surprise, John shuddered and made me sit up straight. He looked at me with a worried expression.
"John…? I truly did not know about the rooms you've discovered today…"
"That's not it, Mary. Please… Be honest with me. How many men did you make love to in that den of vice!?"
I sighed. "It was nine, maybe ten, before my act of rebellion - visiting you at home - resulted in me being held in that cell where you found me." I paused, and then continued.
"And every time I was obliged to play the role of a prostitute, I hated myself for what I was forced to do! The only joy I got out of those men was physically overpowering them so that I could bite them and sip their blood. I was growing to like… Forgive me, John… I was beginning to enjoy the power I was developing. My seductive power over those men. I was never alone with them, you must understand. I was the newest of the red robes - the apprentice. Ruby, Garnet, or another of the red robes, was there to supervise me, each time I was assigned to a client. Clients who were happy to pay double for being with two women. And those women trained me on how to satisfy those men – and how to exploit them, so that they satisfied my thirst."
John looked disgusted. He abruptly stood up. "I need to step outside," he muttered, not looking at me.
"John!" I called out, as he walked away and out of the room, heading for the yard.
I was tempted to chase after him – but I felt too emotionally hurt to even move. Instead, I buried my head in my hands and began to sob. Watery blood began to stain my hands.
Before I knew it, Mina was sitting on the sofa next to me – occupying the space that John had left. She held me as I wept.
Minutes later, when I had calmed down and dried my blood tears on the handkerchief she had offered to me, Mina squeezed my hand.
"Jonathan has gone outside to talk with John," she announced. "Hopefully, your husband has calmed down somewhat – and will listen to reason."
"You heard…," I began.
"Mina gave a slight nod. "Apologies – but my hearing is sensitive. I was worried that what you were telling your husband would tear at his heart. John Watson is a good man – but only one of our kind can truly understand the hungers of a starving, captive vampire. You did what you had to do, in Cherry Tree House, in order to survive."
Mina stayed with me until John reappeared in the lounge. He hung his head low.
"I've… I have come to apologise, Mary. The thought of those other men – making love to you, because you were effectively a prisoner made to work… I just love you so much - and…" He trailed off, unable to form the words. His hands shook.
I stood up and looked at him sadly. "Come here, John," I whispered. I would not beguile him. This needed to be done of his own free will.
He did so. When he was within reach, I pulled him into my embrace and kissed him. Hard.
"I forgive you," I told him, as our lips broke contact. "If you had been the captive plaything of vampire women in that house, I would have hated them too. I would have wanted to rip their necks apart."
Mina looked at us, satisfied. She rose and left us, smiling as she closed the door behind her.
John sat back down upon the sofa with me. "You did not have a choice in that…brothel," he declared. "I realise that now."
I squeezed John's hand. "No. I was told that I had to…work…in order to feed. Every time I was about to make love, I pretended to myself that I was about to make love to you. And every time, my hunger reared its head, I had to force the image of you aside. I had to tell myself that I was punishing those men for being so morally weak, that to take a little blood from them was right. But…I have since discovered that is one reason why those beguiled men kept coming back to that house. The bite of a vampire, when given in a seductive manner as us red robes did, is like a drug to the victim. They don't just hunger for our cool touch. They start to need the sensation of being fed upon – just as my kind and I need to drink blood at least once every night. And…the discovery that when the moment was right, I could physically overpower a man, in order to bite into his wrist, forearm or even his neck… That too feels wonderful, John. I'm not going to deny it. I need to be honest with you about all of this."
John eased his hand out of my grip, and he buried his face between his hands.
"How do we restore you back to…being mortal, Mary?" he croaked when he managed to face me again. "Your vampirism… There must be a scientific explanation for it! A virus of some kind, transmitted through the bite…"
I clasped my hands together, as if praying for deliverance. And I tried to maintain my eye contact with his eyes. I managed a few seconds at a time – my eyes dropping to my lap every so often, as my weak smile faltered. "Darling, I appreciate your thinking as a doctor. But… I am beyond our current science! I am undead. I have died – yet have come alive again, as a result of Count Dolingen's blood entering my mouth as he died after he fed from me! I have turned into mist briefly and instinctively formed myself into a cat. What virus can achieve that via its hosts? Both the red robes and the Harkers have talked to me when I asked them the same question that you just have – and their answers were the same. There is no going back!"
"Mary – don't say that! There must be…"
"Stop it, John!" I yelled in frustration. I forced myself to take a series of deep breaths to calm myself, before I spoke again. This time calmly. "I am sorry, darling... I am a vampire now for the rest of my life. My unnaturally extended life. I am aged thirty-two now, as you know. But in another five years – in ten years – even in twenty years' time and beyond, I will still appear to be the same age!"
I took a deep breath, to gather my thoughts, before I spoke again. This time, almost whispering at first.
"I will never grow older, John. Only when I meet what the Harkers call true-death, will the spell of immortality over my body be broken – and then my stolen time will catch up with me. If I live another twenty years as a vampire before dying – then my dying body will age twenty years within a minute… That's why Count Dolingen – my killer – turned to ashes. He had lived for so long. And his stolen time eventually caught up with his dying body."
He nodded. "I know… I saw Garnet die. Her body aged a decade or so, before my eyes. And before Holmes' eyes."
"There is no going back for me to my mortal life," I repeated my point. "So, I have to make the best of my current situation. I now need to learn self-control and develop my new powers, so that I can fight to defend myself. To defend you, Martha Hudson, and Sherlock. I dare say that Klein will return to plague us again, at some stage in the future – and so I must be ready to face them!"
John's eyes were moist again. "I have lost you – and yet I got you back, Mary. I do not want to lose you again! Please… Can't we be husband and wife again?"
"Oh John… You are still my husband! We can meet here. Hopefully, if Klein and her spawn can leave us be, I can disguise myself and venture outside once more, with the blessing of the Harkers. We can still go to the theatre, since it is not a private house that I cannot enter without the owner's permission. We can walk in the moonlight… We can still…," I smiled. "…be a married couple in bed. But I will need to sleep during the day, each day, for now. And you will need to sleep by night, in order to keep working as a doctor. Nevertheless… We will make it right between us, somehow!" I gave him a pleading look.
"Somehow, we will make this work," John agreed, nodding. Then he pulled me gently in his embrace – an embrace which I returned with vigour. We kissed repeatedly – firstly on each other's foreheads, then our lips, then we kissed each other's tears away. My tongue and lips wiped away the salty droplets on his cheeks – whilst his tasted the red tears on my smooth, pale skin…
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
Monday 23 April 1894 (shortly before the dawn)
Extracts from Mary Watson's diary:
"Oh, my poor girl!" Martha Hudson exclaimed, as I reached the end of my tale. I had just filled in the gaps for her of what had happened to me since my rebirth as a vampire – from my panicked state as I smashed my way out of my coffin, to my hesitating acceptance of being looked after and trained by my new patrons, the Harkers.
John had brought her here, having already sworn her to secrecy before telling her the news that I was still 'alive' after all. It had taken seeing me in person to dispel her disbelief that I was now a vampire.
After John had left the room, so that us ladies could talk alone in the sitting room, Martha had taken a step towards me. Then she had halted, biting her lip. "Is it…safe…to touch you, Mary?"
I had sighed and nodded my assent. "I have recently drunk my breakfast, Martha. You may hug me without harm!"
And so, she had shot towards me and nearly crushed me in her arms, sobbing, before we collapsed upon the sofa together.
Some minutes later, Martha got round to asking me some probing questions. "Are…are you happy here, dear?"
"I am happier, than I was in that den of vice, to be certain, Martha," I croaked. "Some of the things the red robes made me do to those men who came…" I shuddered. "At least I did not hurt any of those children…"
"Shush… At least you are safe now, and back in our lives, Mary! Even if we have to keep you hidden," she reassured me. After a moment, she spoke again.
"I had brought over some of my own rock cakes, just in case…"
I forced out a laugh. "I'm sorry, Martha. But I cannot eat solid food. I have tried different things whilst at Cherry Tree House. It was the same result – I made myself sick. Even soup did not work for me. Each vampire I have spoken to about my questions on how to live as I am now… Their answers have been consistent. So I now know which folklore on vampires is likely to be true, and what is false."
Martha gave a nod. "Mr Holmes told me he's been looking at some of the myths on vampires during his study at the British Museum. The problem is that there's tales of vampires all over the world. There's different folklore in different cultures." Martha gave a wry smile at me. And then she pulled out a folded-up paper from her handbag, before straightening it. "He allowed me to borrow these notes. Hmm… You don't have a hole in the back of your neck - do you, dear?"
"Not when I last combed my hair, no."
"Then you are not a langsuir – a vampire spoken of in British Malaya. Apparently, they can change themselves in owls. And you're not a Bulgarian vampire. They are said to have only one nostril and a long, sharp tongue."
I saw the glint of amusement in Martha's eyes as she said this. In response, I stuck out my own tongue. Once it was back in my mouth, I muttered: "I can see that I will need to develop a sharp tongue with you, Martha Hudson."
Then I giggled, breaking the tension. In relief, Martha laughed with me. We then took it in turns to read from the list of vampires from around the world. Some of the stories were indeed strange – stranger than what I had become. We both laughed as we read about one of the types of German vampire – the nachzehrer, which apparently sat in its tomb holding the thumb of one hand in the other, constantly keeping its left eye open, and grunting whilst it ate its burial shroud.
Such a vampire would not be able to hunt and feed, I thought. Who invented such a silly notion? And I was glad that I had not become a vieszcy, a Russian vampire, who gnawed at their hands and feet whilst in their grave.
We talked for another hour or so – Martha telling me what was happening in the world, and also that she had talked to my old friend, Mrs Forrester, during my funeral. In turn, I reluctantly told Martha that I could not confirm the alleged weaknesses of vampires – as the Harkers had forbade me to spread that knowledge to my mortal friends. However, when Martha told me about the visit to 221B by Gervais Bryce and the vampiric Rachel Howells, I had to nod my head when she asked me if vampires really had to have permission to enter someone else's house.
"What about your own house, dear?" Martha put to me.
"I felt no barrier when I beguiled John at home, that night I was at the bedroom window," I answered, my chin resting on my hand as I reflected. "As for garlic – I have not had to face the smell or sight of it, since I have returned from the dead." I paused, wondering if I should speak of another matter.
Martha looked at me carefully, her eyes narrowing. "There is…something…on your mind, dear," she surmised.
My eyes turned moist, as I sniffed and looked away. "I could not bear to tell him, last night. He does not yet know."
"Who, Mary?"
"John. I have told him everything else – and I am giving him time to adjust to the new me. But if he knew this one last secret… I am scared, Martha. Scared that it will break him. Or that it will turn him against the Harkers – even though they are not the ones at fault."
She edged himself closer on the sofa towards me and held my hand. "You do not have to tell me if you don't wish to, Mary. But I can see this is eating away at you, on the inside."
I nodded. "I need to tell you this, Martha. In confidence. You are my best friend."
"Of course. I will not tell another soul, Mary. I would only do so, if you gave me clear permission to tell them."
"Very well. You see on the morning of that day… That day we went to the theatre. The day that I died…"
I told her of what I suspected. And the sensation I felt when I had adjusted to having become a vampire. Mina, with her psychic powers – amplified by herself becoming undead – had confirmed my fears two nights ago, once she had checked over me, after John and Sherlock had left.
When I had finished, both Martha and I were crying. "Oh, Mary…," she croaked, slipping her arms around me. "I am so sorry."
We hugged tightly. I blocked out the sound of Martha Hudson's heartbeat from my mind as I wept red tears. In that moment, I was not a predator. I was almost a normal woman again. But I was a woman who had been robbed of more than my mortality. I was weeping for what I had lost and could never have again…
At last, Martha and I pulled back our faces.
"You need to tell him, Mary. Eventually," she advised me. "For your sake – if not his, as well."
"I…I am not r-ready to do so," I sobbed, as I buried my face against Martha's shoulder once more, wondering if I would ever be strong enough to risk breaking John's heart again…
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
In the days that followed, my training by Jonathan and Mina continued. My lessons varied from night to night. In the training room of the house, Jonathan led ongoing sessions, teaching me how to defend myself against him and Mina, who attacked me with various weapons, including a hammer and even a dagger – which made me fearful of the damage they could do to me. During these sessions I was not blindfolded.
And so, I had to quickly learn how to anticipate an attack, to block with my arms, to disable my foes, to use my attacker's moves against them and bring them down – and even how to throw one attacker into the second one coming from another direction.
Fortunately, the dagger turned out to be a prop knife taken from some theatre, which gave me great relief when I was 'stabbed' during the first session that I failed. After that I pushed myself to overcome my upbringing as a girl. Whilst growing up, I had been taught that violence was to be avoided at all costs. Now, as a vampire, I could extend my fingernails slightly into claws even as my fangs extended in my mouth. And I was able to summon my enhanced strength, to defend myself better as the lessons progressed – until I was as a strong as a mortal man. And I was nearly as strong as Mina, as we wrestled each other to the floor – once I had managed to block and send the hammer in her hand spinning out of her grasp.
It was hard work. Work that I would never have been given to do when I had been alive. Fighting was what boys and unruly, drunken men did – or what gentlemen had to do, to defend themselves and their loved ones from those with criminal intent. But, in time, my inhibitions melted away – and my self-confidence grew instead. At the same time, I had to learn not to underestimate my vampiric strength when I blocked and threw my opponents off balance. And this had to be combined with my increased knowledge of human anatomy, so that I could learn to break the wrists of any man who thought of attacking me in the future. Perhaps even disable any of Klein's vampires who dared to come for me…
The good news? Although I could still tire, as one of the undead I did not sweat. I did not need to breathe. And any slashes – from the claws of the Harkers, or from me – soon faded after a minute or so, as our vampiric flesh mended itself.
With the permission of the Harkers, the sessions progressed to me wearing the man's clothing that Irene provided for me. Now, instead of being restricted by long dresses, I could move my legs more freely and kick out.
Later, my teachers taught me how to fight with a dagger in my hand. Using the prop knives, Jonathan and I practiced. Before moving onto sparing with both Jonathan and Mina. When I failed and was sent flying down, I was urged to learn from my mistakes – such as me not observing how my opponent shifted the weight in their stances before striking.
Also, I was taught how to throw a dagger into the target boards set up at one side of the training room. Real daggers, this time.
"Sometimes, just revealing that you have a weapon – and that you show confidence in using it – is enough to scare a lowlife away," Jonathan told me as we finished one particularly testing session. "We should not always rely on our fangs and claws…"
"…especially if the enemy is out of our reach," Mina added, smirking. "We have tried to learn well from our own mishaps."
"Thank you," I said, as I pulled out the throwing dagger from the target. I was gradually getter closer to the centre of the board. "I take it you are armed with daggers when you are out and about?"
"When hunting for blood on foot – yes. But we cannot carry a blade on us when shapeshifting," Jonathan pointed out, his lips creasing into a smile. "We apparently cannot overcome all of the laws of science."
As my strength and fighting prowess developed, so did my enjoyment of my lessons. They felt liberating. I was now ready to walk around London during the night time whilst posing as a man and be prepared to defend myself against anyone – mortal or vampire – who dared to harm me, or those I cared about.
And of course, the fighting lessons helped my confidence in how to hunt for myself, when dealing with any difficult prey…
Mina and Irene were with me on those first occasions. Whilst I was dressed as a man, escorting my lady 'Irene', we would be walking our dog on a lead – copying the idea that Gervais Bryce and Rachel Howells used during their visit to 221B. In our case, the case would be Mina in her canine guise. Having already gained the ability to shapeshift into a wolf during her first month as a vampire, Mina had experimented with altering her form into a husky. The problem for Mina and Jonathan was that they did not have reflections. Not even the clothes on them reflected.
By contrast, there had been mirrors at Cherry Tree House, so that the ladies could perfect their appearances, prior to seeing to the clients. And all of the red robes, including me, had reflections. That contrast had confused me, until Mina explained when we discussed in the house, one night.
"Jonathan and I are of a different bloodline to you and Klein's creatures, dear," she told me, smiling. "It means that I, Jonathan, and the rest of our blood-family might have more power – but that we have bigger hurdles to overcome, as we mingle with mortals."
"Such as not been able to see yourself in a mirror," I observed. Personally, I was grateful that I could still see myself. "It must be hurtful not having a reflection. A reminder that no matter how much you surround yourselves with…the normality of London…you and your husband are not normal."
Mina gave a brief nod. "Exactly. Nevertheless, Jonathan and I cannot go back to our old lives. Nor can the rest of our blood family. So, we adapt and push ourselves to develop our vampiric powers. Whilst holding onto our better qualities which made us human when we were mortal."
Mina and I would walk in areas where we would be sure to attract unwanted attention, such as in Whitechapel and the docklands. At the same time, these were places that were not too close to my new residence. We could not hunt too close to 'home', least someone in Klein's employ was looking for me. Perhaps Klein had eyes – mortal or vampire eyes – on the lookout for evidence of my presence whilst I was on the hunt for blood. And Klein now knew of two other vampires that were against her - having been attacked by them in the form of bats, during that night I was broken out of Cherry Tree House.
I will not write too much of my blood-hunts in London. Sometimes, Mina – in her husky form – would track down suitable men who were half-drunk. Usually in twos or threes. Then Irene would hide herself, so that I met the men whilst walking Mina. Once the men started to harass me, I would play coy and flirt with the men a little. But as soon as any of them touched me, Mina and I would strike – knocking them down and making sure that none of them escaped from the alleys and narrow embankments we would be on. With Irena acting as our lookout, Mina and I would overpower and bite our victims, before taking just a small measure of their warming blood. Then, as I had been taught at that house of vice, I would beguile anyone I had bitten so that they would never remember what had happened to them.
As for our hungry bites, vampire saliva heals our bitemarks quickly. We would leave those men unconscious on the ground, thinking that they had merely passed out from drink.
After a few nights of this, I wanted to experiment by myself. It took several nights of mental discipline and will of force, but I was able to expand upon my mist-shapeshifting abilities. Turning into a cat was my natural animal form, it turned out. But thanks to the training from the Harkers, I was able to mist-shapeshift into a golden retriever – which amused my new female friends, given my blonde hair in human form. And so, there were nights when I was the one on a leash, being walked by Mina or Irene. And I grew to like my enhanced senses as a dog – once I had managed to filter out from my mind the odours of human filth and booze and tobacco, that was. The poorer parts of London are even more of an assault upon a dog's nose, than upon the nose of a woman. Nevertheless, chasing on all four paws after a fleeing man and diving upon him – then shifting back into my human form, to hold him still with a vice-like grip, before biting him and gulping down his hot, nourishing blood… That was glorious.
Mina was there to ensure that I never went too far – that I did not kill anyone who did not deserve death. I had to balance myself between hating myself for what I was now – and, alternatively, loving it too much. Mina was a stern, but fair, teacher. And she made it clear to me, after my first few hunts with her, that I was managing to be a pupil that she and Jonathan were very pleased with.
I smiled with pride. As to my secret as to how I held onto my humanity? I thought of John each night. He would be distressed if I became a heartless killer. So instead, I wanted him to be proud of me – proud of his wife rising above her new, worst instincts, and being strong and humane. As a doctor, he was dedicated to saving lives. I would dedicate myself – like Jonathan and Mina had already – to only taking a life when it was justified. Such as killing that foul molester, Mr Grimes, before he could kill John or Sherlock.
Being out during the night felt different now. As a girl, I had a fear of the dark – possibly started by growing up in India, where there are many nocturnal dangers. Now, I was a nocturnal hunter. Everyone had good reason to be scared of me, as well as others of my new kind. And with my enhanced sight in the dark, I could see into the shadows better. The night sky, when there were no clouds or fog, was more a thing of wonder now, as the stars shone brighter for me.
I did not feel the night's chill anymore. Instead, I found myself loving a mild night breeze. And I reflected to myself that, even indoors, my body temperature must now be lower than a mortal human's.
I wanted to see, and feel, the sunlight again – but the Harkers told me to wait a while longer, in order to build up my strength. Graded exposure to sunlight was the plan. Sunlight could not destroy us vampires – but it drained us. The sunnier and hotter the weather, the more it made us weak and tired. It had taken some months for the Harkers to move around outside during a cloudy day.
I would do it too, I promised myself. I would force myself to adapt to daylight. For my sake. And for the sake of Sherlock, Martha, and John. I would become part of their circle again, to keep them safe and happy for as long as it was within my ability to do so…