Jane awakened with a strong sense of urgency. Something was wrong; she could feel it in her bones. Dressing quickly, she hurried to find Renfield. She found him returning from the cellar, a dark frown crossing his austere features.
Forgoing formality, she quickly asked, "Is Asher in his coffin?"
Warily, the valet shook his head.
"He went out last night, didn't he?" Jane probed, clasping her fingers tightly, hoping against hope that Asher was sound asleep, dead to the world in some secret casket. "He went after Dracul."
"Yes," Renfield admitted worriedly. "And he's not back yet. He promised he would sleep at home today, due to the seriousness of the circumstances, but…"
"Do you think he found that horrid fiend?" Jane didn't know what she would do if anything happened to him; her husband couldn't just up and really die, leaving her all alone. Not when they'd come so close to true marital bliss. How would she ever forgive him?
Yes, her stubborn husband was just now beginning to appreciate her and their marriage. The nodcock Nosferatu had better not have gotten himself fitted permanently for his coffin. She was too young to be a widow. Besides, she had only just gotten into her new life. She didn't want to have to go back to visiting cemeteries, especially to place flowers on her dead husband's grave.
"Yes, I think he found Dracul," Renfield said.
"Do you think he's…"Jane stopped, unable to voice the horrifying thought.
"No!" Renfield replied, his tone grim. "I would be quite ill if my master were… truly dead. But I think Dracul must have captured him. I imagine he will torture him for a while."
"Bloody fiendish bloodsucking swine!" Jane swore. She wanted to stick something with a stake—preferably Dracul's black heart. "But if you're correct, then Asher's alive. For now. We must rescue him!"
"How? We don't know where Dracul's lair is located," the valet complained.
Jane smiled. "But we will by day's end." She tugged at Renfield's arm. "You're absolutely correct about the torture. Dracul will delight in prolonging Asher's agony. He won't have had much time last night. So tonight's the night we must act."
Pulling Renfield with her, she slipped up the servants' stairs and hurriedly explained, "He'll want to add to the torture, and what better way than to make me his vampire bride in front of Asher's eyes?"
Renfield was amazed at his mistress's reasoning. But, then he shouldn't be, he surmised. She was a vampire hunter. She knew vampires. While he sometimes forgot the fact, the Countess of Wolverton had a deplorable lineage. Of course, it helped in this case. "What do you think Dracul will do?" he asked.
"Why, send me a note saying he has Asher, of course. Telling me to come somewhere alone," Jane explained, grabbing her cloak and gloves, and calling for her carriage to be brought around.
"Where are you going?" the valet asked, concerned for Asher's wife for the first time. He was getting too old to be breaking in another mistress.
"To get help," she replied. She wrote a quick note to her uncle Jakob. Then, motioning for the footman, she instructed it to be delivered immediately and in person.
"So, when the note comes from Count Dracul, what will you do?" Renfield asked.
"Why, I shall go wherever he asks me to," she replied. "You see, for this plan to work, I must be the bait."
And coffin bait she would be, Jane thought as she got into the carriage and it conveyed her to her father's house. This was irony at its best, she decided. The vampire hunters rescuing the vampire. But she could do no less; she loved her fanged, blood-drinking husband.
As the carriage rapidly traversed the winding roads to her father's home, at last pulling up before the massive front steps, Jane visualized Asher's pale, beautiful face, and how much it had come to mean to her. She could wake up completely happy now, satisfied with her life and her husband. She loved to listen for the sound of his first footsteps on the stairs in the evening, and hear his warm, husky voice for the first time each night. He made her feel complete, a woman unto herself.
Before him, she had thought she would end up an old maid, alone with her thoughts, her duty and herself. Comfort and love were words she'd only dreamed about. Then the big-fanged earl had come her way. He had found a place in her heart that was waiting for him—a special place where love lived and grew.
Yes, Asher was now her shining star, blazing just as brightly in day as at night. Some might say it was a fate worse than death to be married to the undead. Well, her husband might be dead in the day, but at night there was no one more alive.
They might not have eternity together, but Asher could bloody well love her until she was sixty-four, and old and gray, she reasoned as she entered her father's study. The major stood by the fireplace, along with her brother, Uncle Jakob and four of her six cousins.
The major glared pompously at his daughter. "Just what is the meaning of summoning your uncle and cousins here, Jane?"
Taking a deep breath, she spoke, her voice steady despite her frayed nerves. "I have a proposition for you all," she said. She watched their faces, their expressions ranging from disbelief to intrigue to indignant irritation. She was banking her future on this proposition, her life with Asher undead and well.
"I know how to find Dracul," she said slowly, letting the words fall upon the room like a heavy rain.
Everyone burst into shouts, her cousins and the red-faced major questioning where and how. Holding up her hand for quiet, Jane waited impatiently for the tumult to cease. Van Helsings were always a rowdy, rambunctious bunch whenever vampires where spotted on the horizon.
"Before I tell you how you can find the Prince of Darkness, every single one of you—and my two missing cousins—must promise on your very lives that you will do no harm to my husband." Jane did not ask; she demanded.
"And why should we wish to harm your husband?" her brother asked.
"Why do you think?" Jane answered.
Brandon cocked his head and studied her. "He is a vampire, isn't he? Our information might have been wrong about him being Dracul, but not about being one of the undead."
"Yes," Jane admitted.
Her father's face turned scarlet. Jane had never seen that particular shade of red on him before. "Damnation, Jane! You will tell us immediately where to find Dracul and that bloodthirsty ghoul you wed."
Resolutely, Jane shook her head.
The major advanced on her, waggling his finger in her face. "Jane, you shan't disobey me! I will not have it! I am master in my own house!" the major roared. "I want Dracul's location, and I want it now. This is war. Jane, you can't make bargains when it's war."
"Oh, but I can and shall," Jane stated firmly. Her voice was laced with derision, finding strength she had learned with her husband. "I want a sworn blood oath that Asher's good health will remain that way. None of you will ever stalk or stake him. Without this promise, I will not tell you how to find Dracul and his nest." She stood before her father unafraid, and for the first time, uncaring whether he was proud of her or not. It was a freeing experience, even as distraught as she was over her husband's captivity. She felt invincible, a true Van Helsing.
Touching her brother's arm, she looked up at him. "Will you help me, Brandon? The count has captured Asher. He means to destroy my husband, and not in an easy manner."
"You love Asher?" Brandon asked solemnly.
Jane smiled, transforming her plain features into pretty ones, displaying the love she carried in her heart and soul for her husband. "Yes."
Brandon smiled back. "Then I'll help you, Jane."
"Over my dead body," the major shouted.
Everyone ignored him.
Uncle Jakob spoke for the first time, curiosity in his pale green eyes. "Why would Dracul want to kill another vampire? Is it a territorial war?"
"No. More personal. Asher destroyed his second bride, Yvette, and attacked Dracul with holy water."
"Yvette, huh? So that's how the wicked bitch was killed," Jakob remarked. "I always wondered. Never forget that she killed Great-great-uncle Abraham over a hundred years ago."
Jakob Van Helsing rubbed his chin, considering. "So, your husband was the one who rid the world of that soulless fiend." Looking at his sons, he commanded, "We shall help. Asher destroyed a vampire who killed our ancestor, which means that we owe him a debt. Jane's husband by marriage is now tied to us with a bond of blood."
Three of her cousins accepted their father's command without complaint. Dwight scowled, saying, "I will stake whatever vampire is in front of me, Jane and her vile husband be damned."
Shoving her finger into Dwight's chest, Jane snarled, "If you harm a hair on my husband's head, then I will stake you, cousin or no cousin. Blood relation, no blood relation, I love my husband. And I will not have him hurt!"
Dwight drew back from her anger in surprised irritation. Jane had never been so ferocious. "If this is what comes from mixed marriages, well, then I am certainly opposed," he muttered. "Bloody female, putting on airs."
Uncle Jakob bopped Dwight up side the head, remarking briskly, "If this young pup attempts to hurt your husband, I'll have his head. Understand, Dwight?"
Dwight glared at Jane, and she pressed him: "I'll have your word that no harm will befall my husband by your hand, now or ever."
"Agreed," her cousin reluctantly spat, his father giving him the evil eye.
Resolutely, Jane locked eyes with each and every member of her family. "Agreed," she said.
Down to a vampire-hunting man they all nodded, even the major, with Uncle Jakob and Jane's brother twisting his figurative arm.
When the agreement was in place, Jane revealed her bold and brilliant strategy to rescue her husband and exterminate Dracul. As the plan unfolded, wicked joy gleamed in her relatives' eyes.
Jane smiled ruefully. They all looked like little boys waiting for their presents at Christmastime. Her family and relatives acted as if they hadn't had so much fun in a good long while. She guessed they were tired of hunting the old run of the mill English bloodsuckers; they wanted some foreign undead to chase.
She sighed, guessing that the grass was always greener on the other side of the grave.
As she left her father's residence, she could hear shouts of "Tallyho! Don't stake until you see the red of their eyes." There was definitely going to be a hot time in the old Town tonight, what with the Van Helsings hunting. And heaven help the walking dead who got in their way—with the exception of her husband, who more or less had a lifetime free pass, courtesy of the no-longer-reluctant Jane Van Helsing Asher.