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.
Wanted Undead or Alive
It was a dark and stormy night. The shadows seemed to blend into the air, creating swirling mists of deep blue-gray. Streaks of jagged lightning lit the heavens and illuminated the grim-looking manor house. Dracul's human coachman had led Jane here to meet destiny head-on, just as she had predicted.
The count's estate was a matter of acquired taste, Jane thought with a shudder. It was tall, dark and ominous, with gargoyles lining the front gates and door. The building stood out in stark relief against the bleak landscape of gray and black, and the area clearly hid frightening things that not only went bump in the night, but bumped things off.
Gathering her quickly fleeing courage, Jane raised the gargoyle knocker on the front door and let it drop. A loud clanging echoed out. Bravely she stood her ground, while fear ate at her insides. She had to do this for Asher, though Dracul terrified her. His eyes were so ancient and evil, luring the innocent to their immortal doom.
Shivering, Jane raised her chin, trying to shore up her dwindling courage. She was a Van Helsing, a curse on vampirekind everywhere. She would face Dracul and face him with her head held high. She had no choice. She was the diversionary tactic to keep the count's deadly attention, while her family slipped bravely inside.
A tall skeletonlike butler named O'Hara opened the door. He stared coldly at Jane with dull brown eyes and motioned her forward. He led her into a vast cavernlike drawing room which was decorated in dark, harsh slashes of scarlet and black. A large tapestry was embroidered with Dante's words, which Jane repeated grimly: " 'All hope, abandon ye who enter here.'"
A massive portrait of a dark-haired woman with glowing eyes and a long pale neck was hung over a black-marbled fireplace. Her face was cold and intimidating. Before it stood the Prince of Darkness himself, dressed in a deep blue smoking jacket, his pale golden hair shining in the glow of the fire. Two other vampires sat side by side on a large black settee. One was very tall, cadaverous-looking, which meant he hadn't fed in a long time. He had long red hair that was interlaced with gray and tied in a queue. The other vampire had slightly Germanic features, and a massive burn, long scarred over, on his neck. Holy water, Jane recognized. Both bloodsuckers' malevolent and monstrous eyes bored holes into her.
"Jane, my love, what a surprise," Dracul purred, his eyes glowing. Turning to his two companies, he managed a smile that revealed a hint of fang. "We love surprises, don't we, my friends?"
The two vampires nodded in agreement, their cold, reptilian eyes studying Jane as if she were a particularly fine dessert. It made her flesh crawl. It made her heart beat a thunderous rhythm that must be deafening to the predators, Jane surmised. How she wanted to hide in the corner or stick her head in a very deep hole that totally covered up her neck. If she died tonight, she hoped Renfield would still remember to find Orville a mate. And she hoped the female ostrich would be pretty—Orville deserved the best.
"I wish I could return the sentiment," she managed to say, bold in spite of the wild beating of her heart. "Where is my husband?"
Dracul threw back his head and laughed. "Loyal to the very end," he said. "How Van Helsing of you."
The other two vampires hissed as they glared at her, continuing to dissect Jane with their gruesome stares. Jane knew they were thinking wicked thoughts of what to do to her, since her family was definitely de trop in their social circles.
Again, Dracul laughed his sharp laugh. It was enough to slice skin. "Herrs Blixen and Rudolph appear to lack proper appreciation for your heritage," he said.