Air Remains The Only Haven
by Emma Lee

   I kissed Jonathan softly on his temple as it seemed to ease his dreams. He lay crumpled on his side facing me. Of course he was much better now the nightmares of our adventures some sixteen months ago had subsided, but still tossed and turned occasionally. I slipped my light gown on and padded along to the nursery. Quincey was stretched out on his back, head fallen to one side, one arm pointing towards our room, the other flung out, both hands softened into fists. His hands were like Jonathan's: their gentleness concealed an iron grip. I kissed my fingers and brushed one along his cheek. I wanted to stay here, watch the rise and fall of his chest, listen to his sleep-sighs and breathe in his baby-scent.

   But I was scared I'd wake him. So I re-checked the locks on the windows, part of our bedtime routine, and walked back to our room. Moonlight allowed me to see Jonathan was still sleeping so I went down to my sitting room.

   That musty smell! Surely Mary had aired the room during the day. I hurried over to the windows to open them when my senses caught me. Besides the smell seemed stronger by the windows. Sniffing I recognised it was garlic. Garlic bulbs had been planted amongst the bouquets of roses I'd brought in from our garden earlier. And the fire hadn't been put out. Embers still glowed.

   Someone snored. I gasped. At least I though I only gasped, but I must have made more noise because a man-shape was rousing itself on from the sofa. I looked for some weapon to pick up, although I'd probably not make much use of it.

   "Madam Mina!"

   "Dr Van Helsing! But..."

   "I got some servant to let me in. I didn't want to disturb you. My train was delayed So I thought I'd accommodate myself here. A blanket was kindly brought."

   I sank into a nearby armchair. "You surprised me." I waited for my heart to stop fluttering. "This is a friendly visit? Or one of bad news?"

   "A friendly visit. Dear madam Mina! Please, that horror is truly over."

   I watched him. I wanted to believe him. But I knew Jonathan... dear Jonathan... I pictured him soundly sleeping, as he must have been hypnotised into being when that monster... when... No, don't think that Mina. The garlic-scent seemed to strengthen or perhaps I was just nearer the roses than I had been when I was standing. I should have guessed, though. I would forever associate garlic with Dr Van Helsing.

   "Please, I must show you to your room. You must be uncomfortable on the couch."

   "Truth be told, I really wasn't having an easy sleep. It is better I stay awake. I visited Dr John Seward and met Lord Godalming and Quincey Morris so though I'd complete our circle and visit you."

   I pulled my gown tighter around me. On the occasional table next to me was a candle. I reached a taper into the fire and lit the candle with it. Then I lit the one next to Van Helsing. He looked tired, but otherwise his usual self. I returned to my chair. He watched me but didn't move.

   "And how's little Qunicey? He's, what, six months?"

   I nodded. "Have you eaten?"

   "Yes, fine thank you."

   "I'm afraid you'll have to wait until morning for Jonathan. I don't wish to wake him..."

   "Don't wake him on my account. It will wait. He sleeps well, no?"

   I pictured Jonathan, not in the awkwardly crumpled position he lay in now, but when we were alone together and he comfortably stretched on his back with me moulding myself to the contours of his body, my head resting against his shoulder and his arms around me. His dark eyes full of love and his breathing easy. "Yes he sleeps well. But occasionally..."

   "Yes," Dr Van Helsing's eyebrows converged, almost touching over his nose. "I understand. Occasionally he tosses and turns, as if in torment."

   I waited. Perhaps he could offer help. I knew time would diminish Jonathan's fears along with my loving support. Despite all we'd been through, it sometimes grieved me to see his white hairs.

   Even though the embers were greying and dying, the room felt warm, almost stuffy.

   "Yes, tosses in torment. But it is not nightmares, Madam Mina, but dreams."

   My silence seemed to act as a prompt.

   "Dreams. What gave him his brain fever was not what he had seen... but you."

   What? I bit my lip so I didn't say anything. How could I, in England desperate for news while he was in Transylvania trapped in that castle, have caused his brain fever? I remembered the note from the kindly nun. Comforted by knowing that at least Jonathan was in good care. And the glow of pride knowing that his trouble didn't involve another woman. I knew then, although I'd never doubted, my trust in Jonathan was not misplaced.

   "Yes, you. You."

   Something moved in the corner of my eye. Instinctively I turned. This time, I knew I did cry out and bit my finger again. The shadow on the wall was so familiar and so sinister simultaneously. I knew the Count was dead: all six of us at least had witnessed that death, that release of a soul. But the shadow...

   "How shall I put this? You read his journal, no?"

   I turned back to Dr Van Helsing. He'd leant forward and seemed agitated. The shadow was his, the angle of the candlelight and his hunched shoulders giving the Count's silhouette. I put my hand in my lap and gently rubbed my bitten knuckle.

   "Of course." I remembered that solemn promise. That "Wilhelmina" he'd only used twice: once to propose and once to extract the promise I'd never read the journal. Each time taking my hands with his. His long, fine fingers cradling mine. His eyes searching my face for the slightest sign of doubt. It was his wedding present to me and I'd sealed it with wax. But events were to prove it was no nightmare but all too real. I'd not only read, I'd typed. The original was in Jonathan's safe. The copy in Dr Seward's. Dr Van Helsing had asked for a further copy to send to Arminius, a professor at Budapest University.

   "'Of course'. You'd typed. You'd read. You'd typed. But you hadn't noted the words." He sounded irritable.

   My eyebrow arched. I could recite parts of that journal by heart.

   "You're a buttoned up Englishwoman. You did not read that journal."

   I looked down and noticed I had indeed buttoned up my gown. A garlic and rose scent misted through the air. The room was now very stuffy.

   "You can't hide that little excess of baby fat," Dr Van Helsing snarled.

   He had my full attention again.

   "And I have never been unfaithful husband. But I watched over you in those cold nights when your fine, strong husband was stoking the launch. Do you think he was thinking of you then?"

   "Of course," I protested. "I know Jonathan."

   "Pah!" He'd made as if to say something but hesitated.

   I know Jonathan, I said mentally. I know him best when he kisses me, when his mind empties of concern and his eyes light on me. His lips press against mine and his tongue teases my mouth, my cheeks, my neck and lower. When I loosen his shirt and know this gentle, loving man had to kill his worst fears to save me. Had I become undead he would have begged me to convert him too. He would not have allowed me to make that journey alone. He couldn't promise to release me as Arthur, Dr Seward, Quincey and Dr Van Helsing had Lucy. I remember that powerful grip on his knife as I struggled to hold the Winchester steady. His dark eyes emotionless as he pushed forward with a determination that made the peasants give way. And the relief... That night he kissed my pale forehead over and over as we urgently made love.

   Something in Dr Van Helsing's stare made me stop.

   "Why not unbutton those buttons as Jonathan does."

   I glared at him and nearly stood up...

   "I saw you with the Count. Oh, yes, John, Lord Godalming and our dear late friend Quincey were convinced of your innocence. But Mina, you were seduced."

   Hypnotised, I mentally correct. That... that monster wanted me in revenge. The air stifles. I struggle to breathe and collapse back in the chair. I feel faint. What does this man want?

   "Just like Jonathan and the three sisters."

   If Van Helsing hadn't said that, I would have asked him to leave and left the room. "Those three... vampires," I stuttered.

   Dr Van Helsing nodded. "That's what sparked his brain fever. Not the sight of Dracula climbing walls or becoming a bat. Not the woman losing her life to the wolves when her child was already dead. Not fear for his own safety. But the three sisters. I can see it now, your tender lovemaking. You on your back. Him on top, thrusting away until he can bury his head in your breasts with relief. And you slowly uncross your fingers, hoping this won't lead to another baby. You've given him a son. Oh I know the indignity of childbirth. I know how you had to keep Jonathan away because if he'd seen the strength you had to muster, the bleeding, the proddings, the whole mess of it, he'd never believe you were his delicate little love again, would he?"

   I felt as if a huge knife had cut through my heart and pinned me to the chair. Despite the candles and the dawn, the room seemed darker.

   "He tosses and turns because he knows those three sisters would have fulfilled his every, aching desire."

   I felt tears well up. Not true! Not true! I would have cried had I the voice.

   "You used to be beautiful Mina. I envied him. The mind of a gifted man and a woman's body. I've never been unfaithful husband although she is dead to me but alive by Church's law. But you have to understand that what torments Jonathan is a husband's normal desire. His brain fever was caused by you. He couldn't bear to be unfaithful to you and when he couldn't remember how long he'd been alone with those women, and they are women, Mina, women with desire untainted by faith."

   I nodded, I think. I know my head moved. I know I struggled to breathe.

   Dr Van Helsing hissed as he drew his breath in.

   The mind of a... Dear, sensible Mina. I wondered, again, why Dr Van Helsing had come back here and why visit in person rather than by letter? He certaintly had presence. It hadn't taken him long to win the trust of Lord Godalming or Quincey Morris even though neither had met him before. Jonathan, too, seemed to quickly respect Dr Van Helsing's knowledge and act accordingly. That knowledge had saved me. Did I seem ungrateful? Why rake up those memories at this time? It was no anniversary or significant date.

   "Yes, Mina, you were the cause of his brain fever..." Dr Van Helsing continued.

   I think I stopped listening, or at least I wasn't remembering what he said. He seemed to be trying to provoke me into revealing something... He'd been Dr Seward's mentor and tutor and Dr Seward seemed so willing to involve Dr Van Helsing gave him access to journals and patient histories. Histories that should have been sealed. Wilhelmina... but Jonathan's journal had to be unsealed after the shock of his seeing the Count again. The source of the brain fever couldn't remain secret. I put my hand to my mouth, hoping to conceal the smile I could feel beginning. He can't bear the thought of you knowing something he doesn't. Twice he has said he has not been unfaithful. Is that what he wanted? To know how to be a good husband? Jealousy? It was hardly something we'd reveal in a letter.

   Dr Van Helsing paused, possibly to ensure I was still listening. "Mina, Jonathan's brain fever was caused by his not knowing whether he'd been unfaithful to you."

   I remembered the journal, "the honey-sweet breath". I'd felt his temptation. The sapphire-eyed one was beautiful. But, I hesitated, dare I even think it? Is it wise to allow this man to try and destroy the dearest thing to me? I looked from Dr Van Helsing's square chin to his wide-set blue eyes. "Quincey's only six months. Why would I give him a second child so soon? In earlier times, I would be still unchurched and unclean."

   "No, Mina, do not say unclean. Even when you were marked you were never unclean."

   I said nothing and turned my thoughts to Quincey. Perhaps it was simply God's will that we would raise one strong boy, who would be not be haunted by night-creatures.

   I wondered at Dr Van Helsing's intimate knowledge of vampires and the help Arminius had given him. In his insatiable quest he had probably bled Arminius dry.

   "If you're sure you wouldn't be more comfortable in a guest room, then I will bid you good night." Dr Van Helsing said nothing as I left the room. There was still time to warn Jonathan.

 ©2004 Emma Lee

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