The Spiritglass Charade (Stoker & Holmes 2) - Page 34

“So would Aunt Geraldine,” Evaline pointed out.

I nodded in agreement. “Of course. You are getting quite good at this, Miss Stoker.”

“I’m more than just a vampire hunter. And now I’m a successful vampire hunter.” She glanced meaningfully at Miss Adler.

Our mentor’s eyes widened and she appeared utterly shocked. “Do you mean to say you’ve encountered and killed a vampire?”

Although I hadn’t finished my monologue, I allowed the distraction so we could bring Miss Adler up to date on Evaline’s recent accomplishment.

When we were finished, Miss Adler said, “And this all occurred at the Oligary Building? In broad daylight?”

“It wasn’t exactly broad daylight,” my partner said. “It was pouring down rain all day and very dark. As long as the sun doesn’t hit their skin, it doesn’t bother them. He probably shielded himself with a cloak or umbrella from the carriage to the door. But it doesn’t surprise me, for I’ve heard rumors that there has been a revival of La société—here in London.”

“La société?”

There was an odd note in Miss Adler’s voice. She seemed surprised, and yet not surprised. Nevertheless, I launched into an explanation. “La société de la perdition is a sort of club that, for lack of a better term, socializes with vampires. The types of people who frequent the purlieu are of the sort who enjoy—”

“I’m familiar with La société,” Miss Adler said, interrupting me more sharply than necessary. Then she smiled briefly at me, as if in apology. “Of course I am aware of the history. But the group has been defunct for decades, and to my knowledge, was never here in London.”

“Yes, of course. It proliferated on the Continent, in Paris in particular, but also Vienna and Amsterdam. The group identifies itself with an image of a seven-legged, spindly spider for obvious reasons. Spiders draw blood from their prey just as the UnDead do,” I added for Miss Stoker’s benefit.

“Really?”

“So it’s possible La société has come to London, along with at least one vampire. One would assume there are more than the single UnDead, however.” Miss Adler’s fingers, which had been lax on the desk, had curled up tightly during this conversation. “That would be most unfortunate.”

The office door opened, and Dylan strode in. His coat fluttered and his honey-blond hair shifted silkily in the light. He smelled of the outdoors, of the Underground, and of something medicinal and antiseptic.

I’m ashamed to admit that the mere sight of him caused my heart to do a little arrhythmic bump, and suddenly my corset felt more restrictive than it had only a moment earlier. He was so handsome, and his presence seemed to shrink the size of the chamber.

“Oh good—you’re all here,” he said without preamble. He gave me a warm smile that lingered a bit longer than it did on the others. “Hi, Mina.”

“What have you been up to?” Miss Adler asked as he took a seat. “I’ve hardly seen you in the last few days. Have you been spending your time on that project you mentioned to me?”

I couldn’t help a small flare of disquiet. Why did Miss Adler know about Dylan’s “project” and I didn’t? I believed I was becoming his confidante and friend, that he was sharing things with me he wasn’t sharing with anyone else. Perhaps he was like that with everyone—whoever he was with, he spoke to as he did with me. Some of my pleasure at his presence dimmed.

“What project?” Evaline asked—thankfully, just as ignorant as I.

“Mina sort of knows about it,” he said. My heart bumped again and I felt better—even though I wasn’t precisely sure what he was talking about. “But let me start from the beginning.”

“So there’s a kind of joke about time travel, like, from my time. It’s kind of a rule—the first thing someone should do if they ever find themselves having traveled back in time.”

“Try to find a way back?” Evaline asked.

He gave a short laugh, which made his blue eyes light up. “Well, that too. But there’s something that could be done to prevent terrible happenings in my time. And if you travel back in time, you’re supposed to try.”

“What are you supposed to do?” I asked, looking at him closely. My body had gone cold. “Kill someone?”

“Well . . . no. Not necessarily.”

But I was upset. Surely Dylan wasn’t talking about hurting someone? “It’s rather obvious, isn’t it? To prevent something ‘awful from happening’ in the future, the easiest and most expedient way is to remove the individual who caused it. What awful thing are you talking about? A war?”

“Yes. But the point is, if someone travels back in time, the desire is there to do something to change horrible things that happened. If possible. But not by hurting anyone. Of course I wouldn’t do that!”

“But if you did something that altered history . . . wouldn’t that affect a lot of other things? Science, government, inventions—possibly your own life? It could affect whether you were even born.”

“Yes, you’re right. I mean, it’s all spelled out in a movie—er, a story—called Back to the Future. If you mess with the past, it can totally screw up the future and erase you. So, of course, I can’t follow the Number One Rule of Finding Yourself Back in Time.” Dylan grinned as his fingers gestured, like he was putting those words in quotation marks. “But that did get me to thinking, and that’s the point of what I’m trying to say—I can’t change the future, as much as I might want to try. But I’m here, stuck here, for who knows how long. There doesn’t seem to be anything I can do about it for now—I know you’re trying to figure it out, Mina, and I am, too . . . but like I said, if the scientists from my time can’t figure out how to travel through time, how can we?”

“We can. We will,” I vowed. Even though I ached at the thought of him leaving, I knew it was the right thing.

He gave me a look that made my lungs stop working and my heart bump off-rhythm again. “I know. And if anyone could figure it out, I’m sure it would be you.”

“So . . . your project?” Evaline’s tones were ironic and impatient.

“Yeah, right. So, anyway, I got to thinking . . . I am here. And if I’m here, I should be doing something—something worthwhile. I mean, I’ve been put here for a reason, right? I can make a difference.”

Tags: Colleen Gleason Stoker & Holmes Suspense
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