The Reluctant Miss Van Helsing (37 page)

“For I am a dead thing,” Asher said, his eyes alight with the fires of love.

“Yes, I know that,” Jane replied, bewildered.

Asher shook his head, explaining, “Jane, I am quoting poetry to you.”

She stared in horror at him. “Now? In the midst of all this bloody danger, you’re quoting poetry to me? Are you insane from blood loss?”

Asher ignored her. “ ‘I am every dead thing, in whom love wrought new alchemy. For his art did express a quintessence even from nothingness.’”

“Shakespeare?” Jane questioned, intrigued in spite of their dire situation. Her husband was not just quoting poetry; he was quoting love poetry.

Asher shook his head. “Donne.”

“You’re done?”

“No. John Donne,” Asher said.

“John’s done doing what?”

“John Donne, the poet!” Asher snapped.

“Are you sure? It sounded like Shakespeare to me.”

“Of course I’m sure!” Asher retorted in a huff. No one should question his ability to recall the written word, not even his wife. Why couldn’t she get it through her thick skull? “I said that it’s Donne and it’s Donne.”

“Fine. It’s done. But it sounds like Shakespeare to me,” she replied. When Asher started to speak, Jane shook her head. “I can’t believe we’re arguing over poetry now, when Count Dracul is preparing to make me a bride and put you six feet under.”

“I’m used to it,” he joked.

“Not these six feet you aren’t,” Jane argued, glancing back at their amorous enemies, who were fondling each other. Revulsion covered her face at such behind-closed-door antics being conducted in plain view.

“I didn’t know you could do that standing up,” she said curiously.

Asher rolled his eyes. “Jane, pay attention here. I don’t suppose you have a plan?” he asked. Then he added, “And of course you can do it standing up. I’ll show you later if we make it out of here alive. Now, about that plan?”

Jane smiled. “My family is coming to rescue you.”

That he would dearly like to see: a Van Helsing rushing to his rescue. “When elephants fly,” he muttered.

Jane blushed a becoming pink, remembering the night she lost her virginity. “Why, I believe the elephants must be forming an air force.”

She could tell from her husband’s heated gaze that he was remembering as well. He tried to reach out and touch her, but the chains kept him bound.

Watching his tortured movements, Jane gently caressed his arm, frowning at the damage the silver chains were doing to him. Asher’s wrists were scorched badly, the chains’ links beginning to dig into the puffy, raw spots. “I’m sorry, my love, for what they have done to you,” she said sadly. “But we will have you free soon. Just as soon as my family arrives. I was the diversion until the troops arrive.”

Asher shook his head angrily. “Jane, why did you risk your life for me? Why did your family allow you to employ this dangerous stratagem?” If he left Dracul’s alive tonight, he was going to have a long, harsh talk with the major.

“I came to save you! The Van Helsings are coming to destroy the Prince of Darkness. Well… Brandon actually wants to save you too—for me.”

Asher glanced over at Dracul and Lady Montcrief, who had just finished copulating. “Then where are the troops?” he asked, clearly unconvinced.

“You don’t believe me,” Jane said.

“You, I believe, Jane. Don’t you realize that my bond to you is stronger than these chains of silver? What I do believe is that I love you, in spite of this crazy world going to pieces around us. But your family is…” Asher halted abruptly as Count Dracul turned his attention back to them.

“Oh, Asher, I really could kill you,” Jane murmured, her eyes sparkling with tears. “ Now you tell me you love me, when death is at the door.” Tenderly, she stroked his cheek.

“Kiss me, Jane, and let this memory carry me through eternity,” her husband whispered softly.

She did just that, letting her lips and heart speak all the wondrous things in her heart. Things too new and special for words.

“How touching. Lovers,” Dracul sneered, causing them to break apart.

“Oh, how it shall hurt when I take her with my eternal kiss, Asher. You shall know the agony of defeat, of wanting what you can no longer have. Of knowing I have taken your wife in every elemental way there is.” The Prince of Evil’s eyes sparkled with hate and blood-lust, and he yanked Jane back into his arms.

“I don’t think so. I don’t want to be a bride of someone who’s always hissing at people like they’re under-cooked steaks,” Jane snapped, her voice quavering. Why was her family so late for this very important date? Where in bloody hell were her cousins, the barbarians at the gate?

“You
have no choice, you foolish creature. You’re going to be my immortal bride,” Dracul snarled, all semblance of humanity gone. Jane’s scorn had fallen upon him like drops of holy water, burning hot. His fangs were some of the finest of all vampires, two and a half or three inches in length. A length to be proud of.

Jane yanked on her arm in vain; the count’s strength was too great. Terror tore through her, ripping at her with its sharp talons.

Dracul savored her fear like a rich dessert, holding her arm tightly in his grasp. “Soon you will be my blushing bride,” he warned spitefully, an evil leer on his handsome features. He motioned for O’Hara to take a firm hold on Asher. “Make sure the Earl of Wolverton enjoys the view,” he commanded.

Slowly, he drew Jane adjacent to him, toying with her, enjoying her terror and Asher’s rage. Pulling both of Jane’s hands behind her back, he caught them in one of his hands, despite her struggles. This left him one hand free to toy with her breasts.

“Wait! Count Dracul,” Jane shouted, knowing that it was a deadly thing to provoke the undead—rather like stirring a nest of hornets with a small stick. “I prefer my husband to you any day of the week,” she said.

Dracul glared at her, his eyes blazing.

Jane smiled. “You know the old adage: ‘A vampire in hand is worth two in chains.’ “ She quoted fearfully, shivering in repressed revulsion at the hungry expression on the count’s face. He wrapped her in his arms, hurting her with his cruel strength.

“I’ll give you another saying. ‘When a Van Helsing knocks, open the door,’” he said slyly.

“I always heard it was, ‘When a vampire knocks, open the coffin,’” Jane argued, her heart beating furiously against her ribs.

Dracul arched a brow. He was beauty incarnate, if very, very evil. “ ‘To kill a Van Helsing a day keeps the stakes away,’ “ he taunted.

“ ‘A vampire a day is the Van Helsing way,’ “ Jane replied, struggling against his vastly superior strength even though she knew it was useless. Yet fear gave her both courage and strength. Unfortunately, she only managed to hurt her foot when she kicked his leg.

He chuckled, amused by her attempt. “Such a feisty little human.”

“I do believe I was feistier,” Lady Veronique spoke up from the corner. Only Rudolph paid attention.

In sick horror, Jane watched Dracul’s face move closer, and time seemed to slow down. “There is one pertinent adage,” he remarked. “‘Never look a gift vampire in the mouth.’ “ His fangs were glistening a deadly white in the glow from the Venetian chandeliers. Jane did not want to be the Prince of Darkness’s bride in any form or fashion. She really was going to have to speak to her family about their terrible timing. The diversion she had created had become her downfall.

“Wait!” she heard herself call. “Isn’t that the children of the night calling you?”

Dracul cocked his head, listening. “I hear nothing.”

Jane shook her head back and forth like a rag doll. “I thought I heard wolves.”

“No,” Dracul said coldly. “But I like the sound of that. The children of the night. I’ll have to use that little saying for my own.” He bent back toward Jane, fangs extended.

“No! Halt!” Asher shouted, enraged, his eyes glowing a fierce blue. He struggled against hook, chains and the skeletal butler. In this grave moment of loss and fear, guilt seemed to extend time, causing it to slow down. So many shallow moments in his life flashed past, and he realized Jane was everything he could ever hope for in a true vampire mate. She should be by his side in eternity, not Dracul’s. And if he was right about the sound he thought he’d detected a moment earlier, then the Van Helsing cavalry was at the door. He had to stall his archenemy. “The condemned man requests a last favor.”

Dracul laughed, along with the other vampires of the nest.

“How touching,” Lady Montcrief jeered. The sound was chilling. “And what would this last favor be?”

“I wish to give a final farewell to my wife.”

Dracul released his hold on one of her arms, bowing mockingly. He said, “Yes, this makes the moment all the more terrible. You have a few moments… so begin.”

Staring at his wife with all the love in his heart, Asher quoted, hoping Jane would understand that help was on the way—if only they could stall long enough. “Ah love, let us be true to one another! for the world which seems to lie before us like a land of dreams, so various, so beautiful, so new, hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, nor certitude nor peace, nor help for pain; and we are here as on a darkling plain swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, where ignorant armies clash by night.’” Asher prayed that he had bought them enough time, since he had heard footsteps and a loud thump upstairs, directly above his head.

Dracul threw back his head and laughed. “What an imbecile you are. A weakling. Your favor is to quote poetry to your wife?” He sneered in disdain. “But, then, Asher, you always were a fool for the mortal word. I remember how you used to fawn over Shakespeare, following him about, never missing one of his silly plays.”

Jane gasped. Her husband had known Shakespeare and never told her? Just wait till she got him alone; she would so give him a piece of her mind.

Asher sheepishly noted his wife’s exotic eyes turn a deeper shade of green. She was in a huff. He only hoped she—

“You knew Shakespeare personally and you never told me?” She asked, clearly furious. “Asher, how could you be so stingy? How could you keep something like that from me?”

Glancing back at Dracul, Jane went on, “My husband does have a warped sense of humor.” Turning back to Asher, she shook her head. “Really, Asher, how could you not have told me? You know how I adore his plays.”

Asher wanted to laugh. Here they were in a life-and-death-and-undeath situation, and all she could do was scold him? She was such a feisty, unpredictable handful. But with Jane’s passion, he would never, ever grow bored.

“Enough! No more interruptions,” Dracul said, gathering Jane back into his arms. From above, a loud crash reverberated. The noise halted Dracul’s advance, and he gazed upward to the second floor of the Gothic manor house.

“Check out that noise,” he commanded Rudolph. The tall vampire stood to leave, but another crash sounded from the back of the house, a sound that definitely demanded his full attention.

Glancing at the short Baltic vampires who had entered with Lady Montcrief, Dracul commanded, “You! See what caused that sound!”

Then he turned to O’Hara, Lady Veronique and Herr Blixen, and pointed, stepping away from Jane. “Check the back of the house too,” he snarled at them. His eyes had turned a bright scarlet.

Jane wanted to weep with relief, and she quickly moved back toward Asher. The cavalry had arrived! The major was here. Her barbarian cousins hadn’t let her down. She had never been gladder to see anyone in her life, for she spotted Dwight and Douglas come through the door, followed by her grandfather, crossbow in hand, yelling the Van Helsing battle cry.

Dracul turned, his fangs flashing and his eyes glowing. He raced toward the eldest Van Helsing in a movement so quick, Jane had trouble following it. She gasped in fear, knowing she was about to see her grandfather slaughtered.

But in one quick move, displaying an amazing agility for one so old, honed through years of hunting the undead, Ebenezer Van Helsing lifted his crossbow. Using it, he shot his arrow straight and true. It pierced Dracul’s chest, embedding itself in his cold, black heart.

The count was so startled, he glanced for a moment in stunned silence from Jane’s grandfather to Jane to Asher, and then down at the wooden arrow-stake protruding from his chest. His eyes widened as blood gushed from his mouth.

“Impossible! No human can kill me!” he muttered, sinking slowly to the floor. “For me, tomorrow never dies.” He gasped, but his form began to crumble to dust as if he’d been in living daylights.

Asher watched, unmoved by the death of his foul foe. “Never say never.”

Jane, who had a perfect view to the kill, added, “You should have lived and let die.” Her heart was racing, her eyes wide with disbelief. Her grandfather had used the goldfinger vampire-execution move, and with remarkable aplomb.

She shook her head in shock. The world was not enough for someone like Dracul, who so craved power and destruction. His death was a gruesome sight, yet a necessary one. Everyone was again safe from the evil Prince of Darkness. Light had crept back into the shadows, erasing them. Jane sighed in relief.

The emotion was short-lived, however, as Herr Blixen and a Slavic vampire rushed to attack her grandfather for killing their prince. It seemed everything slowed down, and she watched in horror as Herr Blixen leapt to within a few feet of Colonel Ebenezer Van Helsing.

But before he could strike, Blixen was melted. He was doused by holy water that Jane’s eldest cousin, Dwight, threw. And a stake through the back stopped the other evil vampire’s attack, courtesy of Brandon, who’d raced into the room like an avenging angel. Jane’s brother had first countered an offensive move against his grandfather with a well-practiced stake-and-shake called the Thunderball, invented by the first Jakob Van Helsing in the seventeenth century.

With vampires dying right and left around her, Lady Montcrief screamed in rage. Grabbing a chair, she swung it against the wall to break it into pieces. With one broken leg in hand, she leapt toward Asher, who was still bound in chains and hanging from the hook.