Page 70 of Now Comes the Mist

“The transfusion did not work,” Dr. Van Helsing says grimly. “Something about your blood does not agree with hers, and I must give her mine. Quick, bind my arm.”

“But, sir, it will weaken you—”

“I will not let this child die!” Dr. Van Helsing roars.

Once more, the prick of a needle in my arm. Once more, the blood-stained tube swinging and beckoning to me with its red iron beauty. Once more, strong hands pinning my body to my pillows, keeping me away from the sustenance I hunger for.

“She has the blood oftwomen in her body,” the doctor says, his voice faint. “Two strong and healthy men. Can you comprehend how much blood the creature has robbed from this poor girl? And still she clings on, gripping the very edge of life.”

“Please rest,” Jack begs him. “You need your strength. I will sit up with her tonight.”

“Very well. But do not, under any circumstances, leave her alone or fall asleep yourself. Do you hear me, my boy? She must never,neverbe left on her own.”

“I swear to you, Quincey and I will watch over her all night. He is below. He wanted to see her before returning to America.”

I do not know how much time has passed, but when I open my heavy eyes, the room is dark. My movements feel dull and drugged, and I am still weak and feverish, but the sheets do not seem to hurt my skin as much anymore. “Jack?” I croak, turning my head.

Jack comes to me at once. He takes my hand, but it is not the romantic gesture it might have once been. His fingers search for the weak pulse in my wrist. “Still not as strong as I would want, but better,” he says, sighing. “Dr. Van Helsing finally went to bed, or I would call him this instant. It would set his mind at ease to see you conscious.”

“Could I have something to drink, please?” I ask, my mouth like cotton.

He gives me a glass of water, looking relieved when I drink it all. “Thank God you are thirsty for water again. I thought perhaps—” He breaks off and pours me another glass.

“What? That I wanted to drink something else?”

“Of course not,” he says, too quickly. “How do you feel? Do you have a headache?”

“No. Just sit with me a moment, please. I have something to say to you.”

He takes the chair beside my bed. His black hair, usually immaculate, hangs in untidy locks and his eyes are rimmed with red, but he looks like the Jack I have always known, the ambitious and confident young doctor who had charmed Papa so. I look at him with affection, remembering how he used to make Papa smile even on the hardest days, toward the end.

“Jack, you have been a true friend to my family, and you will make some lucky girl very happy someday. I still regret what happened between us. … No, let me speak,” I add when he opens his mouth to reply. “I am sorry for toying with your emotions when I preferred another man. Though there was a time when I truly was unsure if I preferred him.”

He smiles, looking a little embarrassed. “Water under the bridge, my dear Lucy.”

“You are wonderful,” I say, tears filling my eyes. “And I am proud to have known you, and to have had the honor of having your heart once.”

“Why are you saying this?” Jack asks, distressed. “You will be well, and in a week’s time, I am going to dance with a light heart at your wedding. Your children will call me Uncle Jack, and you will scold us for running wild through the house.”

“No. No, I can never go back to that. I can never again be the Lucy you knew.”

“What do you mean?”

I close my eyes, feeling the sting of hot tears, my throat tight with guilt. “I have done a foolish thing, Jack,” I whisper. “I have been so painfully, unbelievably stupid, and I have been tricked. All the books I have readand all the stories I have devoured, and still I did not comprehend that he who makes a deal with the devil will always lose.”

“What are you talking about?” Jack demands. “A deal with the devil? Lucy, I think you must still be delirious.” He reaches out to feel my forehead, but I push his hand away weakly.

“Listen to me, please,” I say, my voice cracking and feeble. “I have made a choice that will hurt everyone I care about, including you. But most especially Arthur.”

“You would never harm a fly,” he insists. “And no matter what you think, you were only ever sweet and charming to me. Arthur loves you—”

“I have betrayed that love, and his heart will break.” My tears flow faster at the thought of what I have done in the churchyard. What I gave up, from which there can be no coming back. “I did what I thought was right. I gave up what I had to protect him, to protect all of you, and it has only done the opposite of what I hoped. It wasn’t a bargain after all. It was a lie.”

Jack looks straight into my eyes. “Lucy, I don’t know what you are saying,” he tells me quietly. “You were viciously attacked by an animal, and you have been in bed for almost a week. You’ve done nothing bad in all that time.” He regards me thoughtfully. “Can you remember the incident? Or describe the wolf? Harriet told us her account, but I would like to hear yours.”

“What did she tell you?” I whisper.

“She woke in the night and came to your room to see if all was well. She found your door unlocked and your mother asleep in your bed, but you were gone. Sleepwalking, she supposed, so she went to the churchyard to find you.” Jack hesitates. “She told Van Helsing and me that you were on a bench, struggling with a beast. A grey wolf, she believed, though she can’t be certain. She thought it would kill her, but it only jumped over her and escaped, and she hurried over and found you … bleeding a great deal.” He avoids my eyes, and I know he saw the blood between my thighs. He and Dr. Van Helsing must have examined me thoroughly, but what they thought of their findings, it would be improper and unthinkable for me to ask.

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