Chapter 60
Previously: The Rose of Whitby – Chapter 59
Several hours of research in the library don’t lead to much in results, though. Most of the books about demons the library gives them are collections of folk tales or horror stories- and some notable old Church treatises about witchcraft in Latin. Given how they want to murder anyone who can do magic and the dubious signs they list of how to recognize a witch, Arthur’s not sure how much he should believe them when it comes to demons.
He’s pretty sure he didn’t get his powers from a demon, anyway. Well, he hopes not. (And also, they’re way too obsessed with… that kind of stuff that witches are apparently doing with… unlikely-seeming candidates.)
There’s only one text that might be a bit reliable, since it talks about how to actually summon demons in a very similar way to his father’s books. But that doesn’t mention anything about demons making you hear voices. Only that demons who aren’t summoned in a proper circle are dangerous, and that they corrupt your soul by bringing out the worst in you. And that they feed on people.
Arthur shudders as he remembers the ritual, that sense he got of being food, only a snack… but Gregory doesn’t do that, so… so he’s not really a demon, right? It’s been a while since Arthur has properly worried about it.
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Reading over his shoulder, Darcy hesitates, she liked it when Gregory said it, it was one of the few romantic things he’s said lately, but maybe it’s important? So, with a blush, she admits that um, Gregory, in his demon form, he bites her. And um, ever since, well, he said he likes her blood but only in that form and well… the book says demons feed off people, right?
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Arthur blushes, too- mostly because Darcy is. Well, okay, maybe that’s kind of a private thing? But anyway… well, he’s not sure what to make of it, but blood drinking is more a vampire thing, isn’t it? It doesn’t say that that’s the way demons feed off of people… Maybe that’s more the, uh… cat part? But… he admits he doesn’t know. And he’s not sure how to find out…
She’s not sure either, leans her head on her arms on the table. Does he think she’s just going insane? ‘The worst in people’ the book says, does he think that’s what Gregory’s influence on her is doing?
Arthur isn’t quite sure what to make of her question- somehow, he thinks she should be… more convinced that that’s not something Gregory would do? “I… don’t think so?” is what he ends up saying. “You don’t seem very insane. Or… like someone who’s being their worst self?” He blushes. “You’re nice and you gave me Hannibal, and a great birthday party, and you look after all the animals in the hospital- that’s not what being a bad person looks like.”
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That last part catches her attention. He said she’s not bad! Her drac is wagging its tail and she smiles brightly. “That’s so nice of you, Arthur-dear! I don’t want to be bad for you!” Then she tilts her head and shrugs. “I’ll just have Papa check me for being insane, he’d know! Thank you for checking all these books together with me.”
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“…He would know, wouldn’t he?” Arthur realizes. “And you’re welcome- I’m sorry it wasn’t more useful… I wish I knew some way to… test if it’s some kind of magic? But I don’t even know where I’d start…” And, right, Dr Seward is supposed to come back this evening, isn’t he? Arthur… surprisingly doesn’t find himself very apprehensive about it. In fact… maybe he’ll have an idea what could be going on? The thought is… really odd. Like… like it’s almost nice to have an adult to ask?
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With a giggle, Darcy nods and proudly tells Arthur that her papa is a psychologist. “That’s a doctor who specialises in brain stuff. I wish I could have seen his asylum. It’s where he grows his roses, too.” She feels wistful about her papa for just a moment. He gave her away. But he’s still coming to visit her so it’s okay. She shakes out of it and asks Arthur if he wants to try some tests with her so he can maybe… oh, she doesn’t know, attune his nose to dhampir magic? Maybe that way he could smell if something isn’t her own magic?
That… well, he’s still not sure how to go about it, but it sounds fun, at least? He doesn’t know what dhampir magic smells like… but it should have a smell? Maybe he can smell it if she changes her shape or something?
~~~~
The long train rides from London to Whitby certainly are not Jack’s favourite use of time, but seeing his rose petal again after only a few days rather than weeks or even months and having a newfound amount of time to spend on his asylum rather than searching for a cure make up for it. That doesn’t mean he isn’t glad to see the castle and get inside, he’s ready to have dinner with the children. Except that nobody is in? A call for his rose petal doesn’t get him any answer either. Hand going to his sleeve, (just in case,) he searches more systematically. There’s a ruckus from outside, at the back of the building. Hopefully not the wards again.
Staying out of sight easily, he makes his way closer, only to have his eyebrows rise and hands relax: The children are playing. From here he can hear his rose petal’s laughter. By now, he can identify it even in her bat, rat, and wolf voices, as he better be able to do, as her papa. John seems to have come up with some sort of hand gestures and turns around like a conductor while Darcy rushes about, changing from shape to shape while… playing catch with Arthur’s horse.
He cannot quite figure out what part Arthur is playing in this game, but maybe there is space for one more? Walking out of the shadows, he makes sure to have a smile on. Lucy and Art are still in London, on the trail of a hint about the trap book, so he feels exposed without his social backup, but these are rose petal’s friends, he hopes it will be fine to just approach.
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Arthur isn’t sure how scientifically-valuable these “tests” are at this point, but it’s fun, so he doesn’t care too much, and he still thinks the notes he’s taking about how fast Darcy can switch between shapes are interesting. And Hannibal is clearly having a great time showing off how fast he is- Arthur kind of can’t wait to be able to ride him when he goes really fast without falling off. …Though how his mane and tail and hooves seem to turn to fire doesn’t make it a very subtle thing, and also, Arthur’s not sure how he’ll avoid getting burned. But he’ll figure that out.
He catches some movement out of the corner of his eye as he looks up from his latest notes, and sees Dr Seward approaching along the path around the side of the house. He’s smiling, and so Arthur offers him a cautious smile back.
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“Are you the one taking score of this game? What are the rules?” Jack inquires as he steps closer to Arthur. But before he can get any answer, he has Darcy jump him, or she very nearly did, she can get forgetful about his discomfort around that. But then there’s John’s voice, harshly shouting “Stay!” and Darcy freezes in her movement.
Or well, she would if she could, as is, she tries to stop and flops over her own paws, giving him a terribly sheepish look from the ground and Jack finds himself chuckling as he crouches down to pat her head. “I missed you, too, rose petal.”
Arthur glances around, and looks a bit sheepish, too. “Um… it was supposed to be more testing Darcy’s powers, but I guess it turned into a game… I did take some notes on how fast she can change shapes, and run, and such, though…?” he offers.
“Playing is an important part of learning and human social bonding.” Jack placates as he stands back up and offers his open arms to Darcy. This time she’s doing it much more controlled and Jack enjoys her just holding on tightly. She hasn’t grown in years, so it can be so hard for him to not think of her as his little girl, married or not, especially when she’s playing so unrestrained with her friends.
Although, she’s never had friends before apart from whatever animals snuck into her room. He’s had to talk to several cleaning ladies to please not clean up any spiders; he’s seen Darcy grieve for them. That thought makes him smile, first at Darcy, then at Arthur and John. These two make her happy, he thinks. Mr. Cobb seems rather markedly absent and Jack isn’t sure if he is glad for that or finds it concerning.
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“…It is?” Arthur asks in surprise. No one’s ever said anything like that to him- he always thought playing was considered a waste of time that you could better spend improving yourself or doing something useful.
“I have rather read every possible treaty on child rearing I could find and yes, play is recommended within boundaries.” With a pat to Darcy’s hair, Jack finds a smirk on his face when she starts enthusiastically lauding him for how much he played with her!
~~~~
John’s leaning against a tree and keeps looking at Darcy, not budging a centimeter from where she has firmly attached herself around Jack’s waist. His girl is so happily a total papa’s girl and he has no clue what that feels like. Having a parent like that. And frankly, he doesn’t want to think about his parents, for different reasons but still, no thanks. So instead, he just basks in his girl’s enthusiasm, she’s so beautiful when she smiles. Wait, what did she just say?!
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Seeing her papa look down at her astounded Darcy repeats herself. “Arthur and I were wondering if I’m going insane. Papa, can you please check?”
“Um, I wasn’t too much wondering…” Arthur feels the need to point out.
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“What symptoms have you observed? Arthur, I assume you took notes.” Detaching Darcy from himself, Jack crouches down to be able to look her directly in the eyes, makes her follow his finger with her pupils. He’s always believed in a neurological model of insanity, especially with a sudden onset rather than a family history. If there is something to be worried about it most likely would be some kind of infection or brain fever. He’s not sure though if dhampirs would be susceptible to either.
“Er… She heard Gregory’s voice when he wasn’t anywhere near? … That’s it, really.” That’s… only one symptom, really, that has to be a good sign, right?
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John very nearly spits to the side, but then just grunts that okay, that’s concerning for sure.
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Nodding vehemently, Darcy agrees, oh, and her drac was leaning in a direction when she tried to find him, as if it was really sure he’d be that way.
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“Your drac? Rose petal, that would indicate it is something dhampir related.” Getting back up, Jack contemplates, there are no precedents he could go by here, but hunters treat dhampirs deplorably, so he questions the insights he could gain about Darcy’s capabilities. Now he wishes his own experiment as to being ghouled by Lucy was further along, but they’ve only recently deemed it safe enough to try, with Art as a control group and keen observer if either of their behaviour changes. Nevertheless, maybe? “Arthur, do you remember the passage about ghouling from the book you read? Maybe this is an instance of that?”
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“Um, it’s been a while…” Arthur admits, flips back through his notebook- he wrote some things down. And, wait, yes, this location sense, he should’ve paid more attention to that… “Oh, here: the human gets a sense of the vampire’s direction, but the vampire gets access to their mind and the ghouled person wants to make the vampire happy.” He looks at Darcy. “Er… isn’t that the wrong way around? Shouldn’t you be the vampire and Gregory the, uh… ghoul?”
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“If we look at this logically, it would be sensible to assume that the vampire would gain the same sense of direction,” Jack posits, and asks Darcy which way she feels Gregory right now.
That’s easy for her to answer, all she has to do is close her eyes and let her drac turn her until she points.
Mentally aligning himself against a map, Jack raises an eyebrow. “South? Maybe slightly south-east? That is definitely not Whitby.”
Arthur glances to the south. “…But there’s only forest there, really?”
With a shrug Darcy lets her arm sink. “My drac thinks it’s really far away south.”
Deciding that that won’t be helpful right now, Jack instead asks the logical next question. “If you have access to his mind, that would be confirmation. Have you tried to read his mind or take his senses?” He rather uncomfortably remembers the hypnosis they put Mina under, and the way they pinpointed Dracula’s location through her guidance.
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Arthur glances down at his notes. “Vampires can use a ghouled person’s senses, too?” That wasn’t in the book… he thinks? Or he didn’t make a note of it.
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Not wanting to disappoint her papa, Darcy tries her best, tells her drac to look for Gregory, to sniff, to run and find the world they share… or should share. Her drac immediately springs to the task, although Darcy can feel it being sad for her.
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John has to suppress a growl; he hates that fucking shadow on Darcy’s face. He can’t even be smug about knowing that Darcy and Gregory, well, not much has happened there on a relationship front. His girl is hurting and that’s worse than having to share with the kind of arse Gregory is. Her eyes spark red, but unlike when he’s seen her make herself stronger, the glow doesn’t fade, it stays there but the shadow on her face grows deeper. He doesn’t even need to hear her words first to know she’s lying. Lying to cover for Gregory and once more he feels his nails bite deeply into his palms with an urge to punch Gregory so hard that he’s out of Darcy’s life. Whatever he’s really doing, it’s not just the non-descript being in a room somewhere inside that Darcy says.
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“So… ghouling confirmed?” Arthur looks to Dr Seward, since apparently, that really worked.
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The way Darcy is mumbling her description doesn’t sit right with Jack, but he knows that it’s Lucy, not him, who normally talks to Darcy about her relationship. It makes him feel only more locked out of his little girl’s life, but he supposes that is the lot of all fathers.
Focusing on the more solvable issue, he shakes his head. “Not confirmed, but a viable hypothesis at this point. I lack information if this should be possible for a dhampir.” Pondering for a moment, Jack wonders, Mr. Cobb isn’t here, Darcy seems uncomfortable, they have a good reason, why shouldn’t he play his own game with Mr. Cobb’s obvious efforts of keeping him away?
“What would my rose petal think of visiting Daddy’s library so we can research more? John, I trust you to be able to protect Darcy’s barony for a day or two. Arthur, pack your bags, you can have my train ticket. I’ll have Art send a coach to fetch you at the train station in London.” Seeing John all but salute with a proud grin, Jack thinks he won that round, especially as Darcy’s expression completely changes.
“We’re going to London?”
“Yes, rose petal, you’re flying your papa to London.”
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Arthur blinks and stops himself from echoing Darcy’s question- they’re going to London? He’s… not sure how he feels about that. He thinks of the house that’s (probably) still standing empty in Severn Street, just like he and Gregory left it that day… which feels like a different life time, in many ways. “…Uh, where are we going to stay?” he asks.
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“Art’s townhouse, where he has his hunter books. Now, his household staff there doesn’t know about Darcy being a dhampir, or Lucy. They have served Art the vampire hunter for many years. I trust you will keep Darcy and Lucy safe by not saying anything that would give them away.” Jack’s look at Arthur for that is stern, and he has to pat Darcy’s hair because she looks unsure about going now.
Arthur nods vigorously. “Of course! But then how do we explain our research interest? And won’t they suspect something, what with the…” he waves a hand at Darcy, “um… red hair and purple eyes?”
“To them dhampirs have white hair. They aren’t hunters themselves, they don’t know too much lore. They only know how to act in case of a vampire crisis. We’ll merely have to make sure that they don’t suspect there to be one. The official story will work, Darcy is still my and Lucy’s daughter. And it wouldn’t be the first time I researched in that library, merely the first time I have help.” Patting Darcy’s hair again Jack smiles at Arthur. “I’m counting on you there.”
That has Darcy bounce, but then she speaks up: “It’s no fair if Arthur has to take the train, though! I’m strong enough, I can carry you both!”
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Hannibal seems to take that as his cue to demand attention, and trots up to nudge Arthur’s shoulder with a snort. Arthur raises an automatic hand to scratch the crest of his mane, blinks at his horse. “Um… if you’re saying you can carry me, too, I believe you, but I can’t ride well enough yet and also, people would kind of notice if I arrived in London on a burning horse… Sorry?”
Going by Hannibal’s pouty ear tilt, he’ll just about accept that reasoning- if he gets some more scratches, which Arthur is happy to deliver. He turns to Darcy as he continues petting his horse (his horse!) “Uh… carry as a big bat? Are you sure? Also… won’t that draw attention, too?” He glances between Darcy and Dr Seward.
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“Of course you are,” Jack praises Darcy, then nods at Arthur. “There are some good landing spots where the streetlamps haven’t taken over the night fully yet. We can take a cab from there. I’ll telegraph ahead, actually, that means Art can send his coach directly.”
That has Darcy bounce again, then she runs to John to take his hand, he has to help her pack!
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“How long are we staying?” Arthur does feel rather nervous about going to visit another noble, but on the other hand… It’s Art, who they already know, and Arthur doesn’t know him well but he’s been nice so far. Like with the way he insisted that Arthur is to call him ‘Art’, and not ‘Lord Godalming’, no, definitely not, yes, he is very sure. And how he grinned happily and ruffled Arthur’s hair and was all ‘see, that wasn’t so hard!’ when Arthur did. And probably the police in London isn’t looking for him. Surely Dr Seward would’ve said something, and he didn’t try to have them arrested for kidnapping Darcy, so… it should be safe enough?
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Giving the way John’s expression went soft when Darcy ran over to him one long look, Jack decides that Art would probably tell him it would be cruel to separate him long from Darcy. “Let us aim for two days, so don’t pack too much. I’ll grab some quick dinner while you two get ready.”
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Okay, two days doesn’t sound so bad, Arthur thinks. And really, nobody’s looking for him, it should be fine. Well, nobody aside from his father. But there hasn’t been any news of the Shiver since the attack on the wards, and his father could’ve caught him then, and didn’t, so…
Arthur nods his agreement, makes his apologies to Hannibal, checks with John that he’ll make sure that Hannibal and Katharina will get their food and he’ll let them out (his cat and his nightmare really have pretty similar needs, Arthur realizes- probably with a regular horse, that’d be different,) and then he goes to pack as instructed.
He decides on a backpack rather than a suitcase, what with flying to London on Darcy- really, he wouldn’t have minded taking the train. Though, well, by himself that wouldn’t be that much fun, he has to admit. And he flew on Darcy in the trap book- which, come to think of, he didn’t get to properly appreciate. And remembering that, he makes sure to get some gloves, too, and… he’ll lose a hat. So instead, the house provides him with a coat with a hood.
He might’ve felt self-conscious about that, but Dr Seward arrives on the library balcony in a heavy coat himself, plus a scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face, and an actual wool blanket around his shoulders on top of that. So clearly, fending off the cold is just sensible.
Seeing her papa like that, Darcy giggles. “You can stick your hands into my fur, Papa. I’ll protect you from the cold! I know you hate it.”
Dr Seward doesn’t like the cold? November is probably not his favourite month, then, Arthur considers.
They climb onto Darcy’s back, and she is long enough in her big bat form that it’s not as uncomfortably cramped as Arthur feared. He’s still sitting a bit closer to Dr Seward than he would normally choose, but it’s not so close that they have to touch, so it’s okay.
Once they’re securely settled, Darcy launches herself into the sky, and Arthur bites back a giggle at the swoop of her dropping off the balcony before she starts gaining height. He peeks over her shoulder to watch the castle and the fields and the houses down below become smaller, until they’re swallowed up by drifting streamers of cloud and the dark of the night, so all he can see is a scattering of lights, and the faint outline of the coast if he turns his head to the left, a deeper blackness against the faint glitter of the waves.
This flight is much longer than the one in the trap book, and it might have actually turned boring, but Dr Seward tells him about some recent scientific experiments, which are really interesting, and so it passes quickly enough. He can tell when they’re approaching London by the big sprawl of lights that appears in front of them, much larger than anything around. Arthur knew London was big, the largest city in the world, but seeing it from above- it’s really big.
Dr Seward directs Darcy on where to land, a spot of darkness away from the lines of street lights that are making kind of a glowing spider-web pattern.
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Landing is hard. Darcy really tries to be gentle with it, but she worries she jostled Papa and Arthur. This was longer than she ever flew before, she’s tired, and it must show. Once she’s turned back to her human form to make sure that Papa didn’t get hurt and didn’t notice when she sat down, he has his hand immediately on her head, the lovely not-gentle pat only he ever does.
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“My strong Ruby. Well done, rest a bit.” He is so very proud of her, always an easy emotion for him to identify, but his rose petal smiles back at him without noticing her fangs. He must have overtasked her. Lucy can easily make this flight, but she also is an hour faster when she goes leisurely, rather than flying hard like Darcy just did. Yes, over an hour, he just checked his watch. Fangs out, hm, he supposes this might need more than rest. Not a problem, he’s well aware that Arthur can heal blood loss, so he rolls up a sleeve, pushes the knife holster further up. “Ruby, you are hungry. We can’t have the household staff see you like this.”
Arthur looks at Darcy’s fangs and Dr Seward’s actions, and agrees: “That was a long flight! And, yeah, the vampire hunter servants shouldn’t see your fangs…”
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Darcy’s eyes are fixed on Papa’s wrist; she can smell the blood all the way across the distance between them. Her papa’s blood must be the sweetest blood of all, she wants it, her drac wants it, they want it, want, want, need.
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Jack keeps a close eye on Darcy’s movements. He’s aware of dhampir family attraction, hunters use it any way they can. But their dhampirs seem so stunted compared to what he’s seen from his rose petal. It’s not the first time he sees her fight with it. When he amputated her finger, she was much closer than she noticed: her cuddling in and leaning against his shoulder included her lips on his neck rather markedly. He removed himself from the situation then, here he is more mobile and has another person for backup.
What will prevail? The urge to drain him dry, to drag him across the border of life all dhampirs supposedly have towards their family, or the strong protectiveness of him he’s seen from her? Is this not the ultimate test of his old hypothesis if there is any curse to being a dhampir?