Chapter 93
Previously: The Rose of Whitby – Chapter 92
The footsteps make Arthur turn away from the window, and his thoughts, look to the door just in time to see the greenish cast Quincy’s face takes on before he flees- and really, Arthur doesn’t blame him. He shares a look with Darcy, and they head after Quincy in silent agreement. At least there, there’s something they can do. There isn’t really anything left here, except maybe finding out who did this, but there aren’t really any clues here. Arthur can smell no magic except his own healing spell, he realises belatedly as they head down the corridor. So… at least that wasn’t a way the stake got there.
~~~~
The moment Darcy sets foot into the new room her drac bounces, tail wagging and ears perked up, and that’s just wrong. She’s here to console Quincy, to make him feel better, but her drac is so filled with happiness and ready to run up to… to whom? There’s nobody here. She looks around, it’s another office, with a sofa full of miserable Quincy, but that’s not where her attention wants to stick.
She inhales, long and deeply and it takes her real effort not to wiggle her behind from how much her drac is elated. No, the smell is coming from over at the desk. Okay, she just has to quickly check, her drac won’t settle down and she can’t see to Quincy like this. It’s strongest on the chair in front of the desk, a bit on the desk, too, and she has no idea where to place it. It’s some kind of perfume and it makes her feel so free and strong and she wants to sigh happily but manages to keep it in. Just, what kind of sense does that make?
~~~~
Arthur sees the way Darcy is looking around, the deep breath she takes- clearly, something caught her attention in this office. Maybe that’s some kind of clue? So while she investigates, he instead heads over to where Quincy is lying on the sofa, sits down on the floor by his head, offers a quiet: “I’m sorry?”
~~~~
Good, a person to focus on! Better, somebody who feels sorry. Quincy can hear how dejected Arthur sounds. Wasn’t there something about him healing, yes, right, right there was, and clearly, he couldn’t heal Harker, if Quincy’s lucky he can soothe him over that! There have to be emotions in that. Anything’s better than this strange, painful lack of any reaction he’s having. So he sits up and opens his arms towards Arthur. “Don’t be sorry.”
~~~~
Arthur gives Quincy an uncertain look- is that an invitation for a hug? Is he reading that right? “I tried,” he tries to explain. “Just… I just wasn’t good enough to really do anything…”
~~~~
Waving his fingers to coax Arthur into that hug, right, need to spell everything out for this one, Quincy hushes gently. “I know you tried your best. Thank you. You did well. It can’t have been easy. Let me hold you.”
~~~~
Arthur hesitates, but then gets up off the floor and onto the sofa. He’s not sure why he’s the one being hugged, Quincy is the one who just lost his father? “I just… I just hate it when people die. And when I can’t do anything to stop it.”
~~~~
“I’m sure you did more than most people could. You are sweet for trying. Thank you.” Yes, yes, this feels much better. Quincy can feel his nausea subside as he closes his arms around Arthur, as he hears his own voice soothing, as he can feel that yes, Arthur is upset, he can feel like he is upset the way he should be through feeling Arthur’s tension. And Darcy is over there, not upset one bit apparently, and somehow that’s nice, too. Maybe it’s that drac thing, maybe everything’s fine.
~~~~
Really, why is he getting the hug? Arthur wonders, and is embarrassed to find himself even sniffling- he’s not a little kid! And not even the one who lost anyone!
~~~~
That little sniffle brings Darcy right over and she hesitates only a moment before she kisses Arthur’s cheek, then inhales at Quincy, oh, he’s not upset. Good! Why is Arthur upset, though? Uh, she’s not sure, but she doesn’t need to know. What she does know is that he likes information, so she offers him that to make him feel better: “I don’t know what’s going on, but there was somebody sitting over in that chair and my drac really, really likes the perfume he was wearing.”
~~~~
Somehow, having both Darcy and Quincy being all nice to him makes Arthur feel both more like crying for some reason, but also warmer inside, more together. It’s very weird, so he gratefully focuses on the information Darcy offers. “Someone was here? Recently, then? Like… this morning?” he asks. Someone Darcy’s drac likes? Or… at least whose perfume Darcy’s drac likes?
~~~~
“I’m not really good with estimating time on smells, sorry, but yes, at least a few hours ago so in the morning or last night.” She first turns wolf to give Arthur a little lick on the cheek so that he really feels better, she knows that he kind of likes that, after all, then goes back to the chairs and sniffs more thoroughly, (tail wagging furiously when she finds the perfume again,) before reporting back. “Harker, too. They were sitting across each other, I think.”
~~~~
“Uh,” Arthur says, while his mind runs off on possibilities – witness? The murderer? …But Darcy’s drac wouldn’t be happy to smell someone who’d do something so horrible like what happened to Mr Harker, surely? But then, she only said it was the perfume that made it happy, more than one person can have a perfume… But before he can put any of that into words, or even properly sort it out in his own head, there’s a decided, official-sounding knock from the front door below.
Quincy’s arms around Arthur go stiff and he hisses: “Shit, police. That got to be the police. I thought they wouldn’t get me in here but… they saw you, too, probably. No!”
~~~~
Now Quincy does smell very upset, and Darcy won’t have that! The flame in her chest sparks and she builds herself up tall. “If it’s police, they can talk to me. I mean, talk to the Lady Rossmore!”
~~~~
Arthur’s no big fan of the police, either, but, at this point, less worried about them than Quincy. He sits up straighter, nods to Darcy’s words. “You came in the back, too, didn’t you?” he asks Quincy. “They only arrived in the front, I don’t think they would’ve seen you. In fact, the only one they would’ve seen is me…”
He takes a deep breath, gives a decided nod. “We can handle this. Harker was our lawyer. You go hide, or slip out the back while we talk to them at the front,” he tells Quincy. “We’ll just say we were here to see our lawyer, and we found him like this, and, uh, the back door was open and we came in to try and help him. That’s reasonable enough. And even mostly true.”
~~~~
Nodding immediately, Quincy squeezes Arthur, puts a kiss on his hair, then gets up and kisses Darcy, too, because this kind of help, yes, this help really means something to him. The police getting him again is one of the things he is genuinely scared of, so he runs, well, walks fast but quietly, and gets out the back door before the police surrounds the building. He has to go check on his mother anyway, and shit, he should have told those two, but Arthur’s a smart one, he can probably figure out that that’s where Quincy would head.
~~~~
Arthur puts a confused hand to his hair- did Quincy just kiss him on the head? …That was odd, he decides. Not bad, but odd. But anyway, there’s that knock again, and some indistinct calls for “Open up!” and “Police!” He straightens his clothes, wipes his eyes and face to make sure there’s no sign of tears left, puts on a suitably grave expression, gives Darcy a nod, and then heads downstairs with her to open the door.
Dealing with the police is terrifying, but Arthur thinks they don’t notice. As the ‘man’ here, of course it falls to him to do most of the talking, but the police men don’t so much as blink at his story. He doesn’t offer any detail on why they came to see Harker- the more detail you give, the easier you’re caught in a lie, and the more it seems like a made-up story, after all.
This way, if they talk to Mrs Harker and find out that she called them, he can always confirm that yes, they were concerned, that’s why they came. (Doing it with the train would be tight, but just about feasible.) And if the police assume it’s for an appointment, well, that’s their business. He never says, specifically.
Of course the police go search for an intruder when they hear about the ‘open backdoor’, but that’s fine- Arthur’s pretty certain this wasn’t anything the police can deal with, anyway. And yes, he went up to, well, he admits, try and help even though he didn’t know how he could. Offer the man at least a human touch in his last moments. Yes, Mr Harker did say something- something about a ‘brother’, possibly? It was hard to understand, hard to tell how coherent the poor man still was, too. (Arthur certainly doesn’t mention the incomplete bit about Quincy.)
And then, of course, he very much agrees with the policeman taking the notes that this is no place for a lady, and no, she shouldn’t have to see any more of this terrible affair. Yes, yes, Arthur will take her home, and if they have any further questions, they can contact them at Rossmore Castle in Whitby. Yes, he thinks they’ve had quite enough of the city for the moment. Her husband? Oh, he… went to get help. Arthur’s sure he will be back soon.
Darcy does a credible job of looking, if not terribly shook up, at least demure. After only a few minutes, they get to escape the police with the police even apologizing for Darcy having to see such a terrible sight, and their best wishes and assurances that everything will be done to catch the perpetrators of this terrible crime, and then they’re left to make their way out the back door.
~~~~
Once they are a bit further away, Darcy lets her mask relax a little bit, stops pretending she’s ‘too female’ to speak. This is silly. More importantly, though: Where is Quincy? She looks around for him, but ends up giving Arthur a shrug. “What now? We have to find Quincy. He was so scared of the police.”
Arthur looks around and says that he also can’t spot that tell-tale red hair anywhere. “Yeah, I thought he would wait nearby or something to meet up again? But I don’t see him anywhere…”
“Don’t worry. I know what to do. Let’s just find an alley.” She drags him along by the arm, since she’s on it to appear all proper, rather than just grabbing his hand as usual. Anyway, she wants to find Quincy fast. Not that whoever murdered Harker was just waiting for Quincy to be close by alone! The thought makes her neck hairs stand up the same way her drac’s ruff gets all agitatedly fluffy.
It’s not the most story-perfect alley, but maybe this part of town isn’t good for those kinds of stories. In either case, it’s good enough for nobody seeing her for a moment before she strolls back out, on all four paws, and sticks her nose to the ground. Following that flower smell among all the city smells is easy, she doesn’t even have to circle all the way back to the firm before she picks it up and then she’s off… Okay, slower, slower, don’t run, it’ll be fine.
~~~~
“That works,” Arthur mutters to her, and then walks, at a sharp clip but nothing that draws too much attention, after ‘his dog’. He doesn’t really know this part of town, so having Darcy’s nose to guide them to wherever is really helpful.
Of course, as he walks, his thoughts can’t but help return to the scene they just left. He doesn’t really want to, but at least… at least they’re moving away from it, from Harker’s body, and the walking makes some of the tension, some of the queasiness he’d kind of forgotten about, leave his body.
That stake, driven into the ground as it was, cobblestones splattered around its base… it bothers him. Nobody went and dug a hole to put that there. Or if someone did, they went to great lengths to make it look like they didn’t. And it’s a big stake! Three stories- 20 feet or so! That’s heavy. How do you just… put something like this into the middle of London?
Well. It’d be hell of a lot easier if you could, maybe, fly. And were really strong. Like, he thinks again, a vampire.
Because Quincy is a dhampir. It’s an inhuman feat, and Mr Harker… just doesn’t seem very like someone who’d attract that kind of… rage? Murderous intent? He’s a lawyer, but one who deals with property and that sort of thing. Boring stuff. Paperwork stuff.
… Was a lawyer, Arthur reminds himself. A very… stolid and serious and proper one, from what Arthur’s seen of him.
And his obvious link to anything non-human is Quincy. Who’s a dhampir linked to the vampire that Darcy and the parents are also connected to.
Arthur feels a cold shiver down his spine while he watches Darcy’s red wolf back trot along the street in front of him. Something… his mind has just spotted something, some kind of pattern, while his thoughts are still resolving it.
A vampire might’ve killed Mr Harker.
And a vampire might’ve attacked Darcy.
And Darcy is so, so sure that there’s nothing to worry about, that her drac can’t possibly be wrong.
And vampires can make you think things, feel things.
Quincy can read people’s thoughts, probably. What if a vampire can do it, too? Except, way better?
What wouldn’t he know? Would he even have to change Darcy’s emotions? Wouldn’t he know exactly what to say, exactly how to act, exactly how to manipulate to get Darcy to like him? Know all the secrets, all the wishes and dreams, wouldn’t he know exactly who to be to get whatever he wants?
The thought of someone just being able to stroll through his mind, to pick up on any fear and dream, any self-doubt and any secret pride, has Arthur shudder and shunt all the power in his amulet towards defending his mind. Yes, it’s daylight, and maybe it wouldn’t even do anything against a vampire, but still.
It makes him feel better.
His thoughts are still tickling him with that connection- that maybe-vampire connection. There’s something… Someone was in Harker’s office, this morning. Darcy smelled them.
And then he realizes what the back of his mind was remembering: Gregory. Gregory said he smelled cologne at the townhouse, he said someone had definitely been there.
Cologne is male perfume, right? And Darcy said she smelled perfume, but also she said “he”, not “she”. Like she instinctively knew it was a male person, not a female one.
Dammit, why did Gregory run off? If he’d been with them, he could’ve told them if it was the same smell. But now the house is crawling with police!
What did Harker say? “Not him. Brother.” And something about “Quincy still”. Still what? Still in danger? Still not awakened? Did Harker know about that? Still a dhampir? Not him, who? And whose brother? Does Quincy have… some kind of dhampir brother whose out for revenge or something?
That would be a powerful dhampir. But better than a powerful vampire… maybe?
Arthur’s stomach is back to churning, because… because if this is a vampire (or dhampir), he’s playing games. Leaving the blood on Darcy’s neck to be found. Staking Harker like that.
If that’s all the same person, then they have some kind of agenda, and it’s not a good one for them. Was Harker meant as a message for them? A threat? “First your lawyer, then you?”
If what happened to Darcy and what happened to Harker is connected, it casts what happened to Darcy into a much more sinister light.
Then she barks and rips him out of his thoughts. As he looks up, he can see what got her attention: Still a bit ahead, but impossible to mistake with that height and the red hair, is Quincy.
Darcy bounces on her paws and looks over her shoulder at Arthur but then dashes ahead to catch up with Quincy.
Arthur has no objections, especially with these thoughts crawling at the back of his head- some kind of scheme, someone toying with them. If he’s right about this connection, this has already started days, weeks ago, and they’re steps behind on whatever “it” is.
They might be being targeted specifically, no coincidence or opportunism about it.
He’d rather they all stuck together. He also really wants to talk to everyone about what he’s thinking (maybe they can convince him he’s just being paranoid, that’d be nice)… But not here, on the street. He runs after Darcy, a quick sprint, weaving around the other people on the sidewalk, pulls up on Quincy’s other side. “There you are.”
~~~~
Even while Quincy is trying his best to keep Darcy from jumping up on him and slobber all over his poor makeup, he is still glad to see her. Somehow, these streets don’t feel quite as safe as they did only days ago. Back then, the worst he could think of was police or maybe Harker seeing him. Now he’ll never have to worry about Harker again, and he feels awful about how good that makes him feel. Maybe he is the terrible son Harker always took him for after all. And the police, well, the police do whatever the nobles tell them to. Now he happens to have a noble quite literally drooling over him.
Nevertheless, once he’s managed to push her down, even deigns to give her a pat on the head for it, he smiles at Arthur. “I knew you would figure out that, of course, I have to go check on my mother.”
~~~~
“Uh,” Arthur says, feels an embarrassed blush on his face. “…Actually, I just followed Lady’s,” he tilts his head at Darcy, “nose… But, um, yes, of course you should check on your mother!” Really, that should’ve occurred to him. “And your sister!” he remembers. If Harker was targeted… maybe they could be, too?
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“You really think they might be after my sister? She’s eight!” Quincy can’t say that he is the best big brother either, probably. Children are awkward to him, but she’s still his little sister, so he’s tried being nice and he’s even played at times with her. She seems to like him, even though she isn’t always very verbal, but she expresses her opinions anyway. She’s been helping him out at times, too. Opening windows for him to get back into the house, or doing math problems their mother gave them for their homeschooling.me schooling. She has a real head for numbers, and he never minded helping each other out, as long as it was equal.
He can’t imagine what anybody would want with her. She’ll be a brilliant little lawyer and paper pusher one day, she always ate Harker’s lessons up, but right now? Right now, he can’t come up with a single reason anybody could want to hurt her. “Now you’re just making me worry even more. I know all the shortcuts, follow me.”
“Sorry,” Arthur says, quick to apologize as always (really, at some point Quincy will have to do something about Arthur’s confidence!) and readily follows him.
With all that, it takes them only a short while to arrive in a nice neighbourhood. At least now that Quincy’s seen in which neighbourhood of London these two have been, he remembers again that this one is nice. Off the main street and then down a few identical houses, Quincy rushes up to a door and knocks loudly. “Mother!”
Only moments later, thankfully, his mother opens the door and gives Quincy an incredulous look, takes both his hands and searches his face, after a quick look up and down the street. Noticing Arthur and his ‘dog’, she ushers all of them in. “Quincy, child, what did your father do that you would come home?”
Okay, now he officially feels awful but Quincy can’t help the hysterical giggle. “Die.”
~~~~
“Excuse me?” Mrs Harker stares, then looks at Arthur and inquires for an explanation: What has gotten into her son?
Well. That’s awkward in the most awful way, and Arthur knows his expression must give away that something really bad happened, but Mrs Harker seems… very together, like the last time they met, but a bit… a bit less formal, maybe? With Quincy, anyway? “I’m… I’m afraid, um, your husband… passed away,” Arthur manages. That’s how people say it when they’re being gentle and try not to upset people, right?
“That would explain Quincy’s mental state.” Mrs Harker says dryly, then sighs, and pulls Quincy in for a hug. With closed eyes, holding him close, she thanks Arthur. “I have to assume you helped in some way. Do I assume right that there is more to this?”
Mrs Harker hugs? …No, that’s not relevant right now. Or, well, she kind of hugged Lucy, too, but still, not relevant! Arthur nods. “I, um, I tried to help, anyway, but I couldn’t do much, I’m sorry…”
“How? I need information if I am to decide what to do next. Do I have the leisure of merely being a widow and checking his will, or are you,” and she gives Darcy a meaningful look, “involved because my husband died under problematic circumstances?”
“No!” Arthur exclaims in Darcy’s defence. “I mean, the circumstances are, uh… Well, it wasn’t a natural death. Very obviously. I mean, he was… murdered. Um, at his firm. Or in front of it.” This explanation is not wanting to come together properly, but at least Mrs Harker doesn’t seem too broken up or emotional, and maybe she’s just hiding it, but it does make this much easier to deal with. Arthur would have no idea what to do if she, god beware, started crying or something.
But anyway, Darcy didn’t have anything to do with it. Well, not intentionally, anyway, he amends in his thoughts, remembering his suspicions. Of course, maybe he did get caught in some kind of vampire crossfire that has to do with them, with Darcy…
~~~~
“I know what she is… what I am, mother.” Quincy speaks up and leans back out of the hug, let’s her look at his eyes. The reaction isn’t as fast as he thought, she seems to have to search what he means, then shakes her head.
“Then you know about as much as I do. Only what Lucy could tell me. Which is enough to make me worry. If whoever did this knew where your father worked, then they may know where we live. Do you think your… patrons could harbour us?”
His mother fixes Arthur, then Darcy, who turns human again, with a look and he’s pretty sure that’s a satisfied expression when Cycy, of course, immediately nods. But not satisfied as in, good that they have somewhere to stay safe, no that’s her approving motherly look, what the hell is up with that?
~~~~
“Of course!” Arthur agrees. “I’m… rather concerned about all our safety, too,” he admits.
“Then there is no time to waste. Quincy, go help your sister pack. Arthur, with me. Darcy, keep an eye on the street. We’ll depart within fifteen minutes, children.” Clapping her hands once, Mrs Harker turns and walks deeper into the house, as Darcy blinks but turns towards the street and Quincy, looking like he’s used to his mother taking charge, goes towards the stairs. For a moment, Arthur is startled by Mrs Harker’s ease with which she does, but then he hurries after her to help with whatever she has in mind.That turns out to be helping her pack, starting in her wardrobe, then over to her study, where she takes some books and papers, before unlocking a drawer at her desk and slipping a revolver into her bag as well. Arthur didn’t expect her to have a gun, but really can’t fault her for going armed, given the circumstances. Also, it’s kind of good to know that she is– just in case. (What case, he doesn’t know, only that… Well, you never know if you can trust someone until you know them better.) Just about to leave, Mrs Harker remains in the doorway for a second, looks back, but then shakes her head with a sigh and walks on back to the entrance, letting Arthur carry her bag, quite heavy by now, for her.