Chapter 94
Previously: The Rose of Whitby – Chapter 93
Darcy reports that there was nothing unusual out there that she could tell, but of course, she would have to get outside to take a proper sniff. While Mrs Harker raises an eyebrow at that, Quincy comes back down the stairs, duffel bag over one shoulder and his sister on his hand. She insists to tell her mother that she brought her school supplies, too, in case it takes longer. She doesn’t want to miss out on her math homework.
Taking a moment to laud her for that, Mrs Harker begins to dress her daughter for the cold weather outside, makes sure that everything sits right, before she tries to get Quincy to do the same. He is not properly dressed for the weather, and he always complains about the cold.
~~~~
Feeling suddenly very embarrassed by his mother, Quincy makes some noncommittal sounds, but allows her to put a scarf on him, avoiding eye contact with Darcy, who is smiling brightly and declaring that her papa also always freezes, and normally it’s her who puts the scarf on him.
That does make Mrs Harker chuckle. “Jack always had his odd little quirks. If everybody is ready now, I’ll order a cab to the train station.”
~~~~
Arthur glances at Darcy, but, well, Quincy knows anyway, now, so there’s probably no point in keeping it a secret, and also, he’d like to be back behind wards sooner rather than later.
~~~~
Seeing the glance and still wanting to protect Quincy so blasted badly, although she’s not entirely sure from what, Darcy speaks up. “Not the train station. Arthur’s old house. I have an arrangement with the castle’s fey to let us travel quickly from there.”
~~~~
At the mention of an arrangement, Mrs Harker pulls a face, but it’s gone as quickly as it came and she nods. “Very well, you take the lead then. I care about the safety of my children. I will take supernatural cheats if they are offered.”
Arthur nods in agreement, and excuses himself to slip out and find that cab for them, and shortly thereafter, they are back on the way- sceptical looks by the cabbie as to the destination of their well-dressed and respectable selves and all.
~~~~
Not that Quincy doesn’t agree with the cabbie there. It’s Arthur’s house, holy shit, now that’s a statement about what a noble patron can make in difference. He kind of would like to focus on that, and on feeling vindicated in having read Arthur’s lack of proper breeding right, but he’s still stuck on… well, Harker’s death.
He didn’t tell his sister yet, he has no idea how you tell a child something like that, even more so a weird one like her. He can never predict what way her emotions will go, and now he wonders if maybe, just maybe he actually also has that trait. Is it something that runs in the family? His mother is always a beacon of calm collectedness. She has her shit together. But does it count as having your shit together when you see the corpse of the man who might have resented you but at least fed you until you were fourteen and all it did was make you grossed out?
He has no clue what’s wrong with him, he can be so emotional, he’s cried for other people’s loss, he wants to think he’d cry if his mother died. And he was really relieved when he found her safe, even let her hug him, rather than insisting to hug her, but still, what’s happening?
This is all too bloody much for two days!
Getting a patron should have been the big event, but now he has an aberration patron, who’s married to a dhampir baroness, who happened to nearly kill him and made him a dhampir, no, sorry, woke him up as a dhampir, and now Harker died in anything but the way he expected and maybe somebody’s after his family. What is he supposed to do with this?!
He’s not good with violence and this doesn’t seem to be a social problem he can facilitate talking out. He feels useless and he bloody hates that feeling.
~~~~
It isn’t a particularly comfortable ride, there’s plenty of tension going around their group and Darcy keeps giving Quincy looks, like maybe she wants to turn wolf again and lick his face in reassurance, but at least no one’s trying to make stilted conversation. Since Arthur is feeling tense and cautious, too, he’s just fine with peeking out the window and keeping his eyes and ears open and not talking. Mrs Harker doesn’t comment on the neighbourhood or his house, either, just gets on with getting in and up the stairs. She’s still intimidating, but Arthur does think he likes her practicality.
And technically, the wards extend to the house, so he should feel safe once they’re there and he closes the door behind them, but he only really relaxes once he follows Darcy and everyone else through the door into the library and gets to close that one again, cutting them off from London.
~~~~
Darcy’s not sure if it makes much sense, but she supposes she’s the host, so she offers everybody to freshen up a bit. If they would like, they may pick a room, and then they could meet back up for… uh, discussing their situation.
Mrs Harker takes her up on that: If nobody objects, she would like the house in London. Staying at a castle might give her daughter wrong impressions about life, and she would also prefer to be in her own section, no offense. Quincy groans a “Mother!” that she markedly ignores and looks at Arthur instead.
~~~~
That, Arthur did not see coming- someone who wants to stay in his house? His small, narrow house in the bad part of town, rather than the castle with its space and library and grounds? Well, he supposes at least his house is all clean and repaired now and such, and it’s not like he minds, so he nods his agreement, says that, of course, if she prefers that, she’s free to make herself at home. Well- the room in the attic he’d prefer to keep to himself. And, uh, he’d recommend against reading the books in the study.
Mrs Harker’s expression turns to something that he’s kind of forced to call a smirk and she asks whether he’s never heard that things become more interesting after one has been advised against them? Before he has to figure out an answer, though, she moves on and thanks him for the hospitality, then ushers her daughter back, she’ll rejoin them momentarily once she has settled Lucy Jr in.
She has a point, of course, and maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned those books… On the other hand, just scanning the titles ought to tell her of the, uh, dubious nature of them, so he’d rather not let someone run across those books with no warning… She doesn’t seem like the kind of person to have necromancy aspirations, or someone who’d just go and recklessly try out something dangerous, so… it ought to be fine. Right?
But anyway, he’s glad to head down into the main room of the library and drop down on his favourite sofa and just… take a moment.
~~~~
“There you fucking are!”
John crashes into the library only a moment after Arthur sits down, and before Darcy even could decide who she should try to cheer up, she finds herself hugged very tightly. Oh night, but she loves when he does that, she can feel her ribs crunching lightly and she just feels so, so close to him like that. Still, she wiggles out of his grasp and gives him a quick kiss. “We’re all alright. I think Arthur and Quincy might need a moment. Oh, and Quincy’s mother is settling his sister down.” A thought occurs to her, that might work! “She’s only a child and her father just died, could you maybe make sure that she’s alright? Protect her while we also try to figure out what’s going on.”
~~~~
Did his girl just ask him to see to a child? She knows him too fucking well and he is not going to make a scene right now, or ever, preferably. He’s still hung over and worried and probably jealous of the fucking molly, but his girl even asks him to be a part of seeing to the extended family. She always tries so hard to make him a part of her life, and it just fucking hurts how much he wants it. So yes, of course he can do that. Keep the kid safe and out of harm’s way while everybody is hunting the big bad. He feels like this whole castle-defense thing is starting to be his gig and he’s okay with that.
~~~~
John, as far as Arthur can tell, seems to perk up at the notion of looking after Quincy’s little sister- right, he likes children. Not that Lucy Jr is bad, as far as children go. She was quiet and watchful on the ride over, which Arthur finds a lot more relatable than the… randomness of other children he remembers from when he was little.
~~~~
“She likes number games,” Quincy offers, then lets himself fall on the sofa next to Arthur and leans his head back to just… stare at the ceiling for a little bit. Everything in him wants to run away from the trouble, but he doesn’t know how he could run from this, so instead he looks back over at Arthur, then at Darcy. “Anybody mind if I make a huge pot of tea for us to destroy while we have a war meeting or however we want to call it. No sugar for Darcy, I think I saw Arthur has two sugars in his. John, I’ll bring you a cup over if you want to sit with my sis, so what do you want in yours?”
~~~~
Could the molly stop being agreeable? It’s easier to be grumpy at him when he’s not being nice… and it’s not as if John can’t see that he’s stressed as fuck. He’s trying to figure out what he would think if his father died… Okay, that grin better not show up or he’ll look like a maniac. Still. Got to be the better man, so he thanks Quincy and tells him how he prefers his tea before moving over to the London house to offer help settle the kid down so that Mrs Harker can add whatever she might know to the discussion.
~~~~
Arthur nods in happy agreement for the tea. Of course, the house could just pop it up in front of them, but maybe Quincy wants a distraction? Arthur could understand that.
As for himself, he sits up after another moment and pulls out his notebook to get some order into all those thoughts swirling around in his head- what does he actually know? What does he suspect? How did he get to his suspicions? If he doesn’t trace it back, he might end up just making assumptions and forgetting that they’re only assumptions.
~~~~
Settling in next to him, Darcy doesn’t want to disturb him… and clearly Mrs Harker knows, so she turns wolf and just rests her head on Arthur’s lap while he writes, hopes that helps with making him feel calm enough to concentrate.
~~~~
Arthur gives her a smile for that. Somehow, her being all fluffy and close by makes him feel safer and he can feel tension unwinding in his body. It also makes him more determined to make sure she’s safe, so he returns to his writing.
~~~~
Quincy is the first one to return a little while later, and busies himself with moving chairs around the coffee table for sitting and setting out tea. Arthur looks up and smiles at him in thanks, and that makes Darcy feel happy for some reason.
Having caught on by now that he prefers her in her human shape, (weird as that is,) Darcy turns back, takes her head off of Arthur’s lap and tries to get Quincy to sit down. He doesn’t really smell upset, more… unsure, she thinks, but when she tries to put a hand on his arm he hisses that he can take care of himself! Startling back, she deflates. She just wanted to be good for him…
~~~~
“Sorry, Cycy, I know. I know you do. Come here.” Finally sitting down, Quincy pulls her onto his lap. She’s so tiny, he can easily rest his head on top of hers, and when he starts humming, he feels the vibration transfer into her, and, with a giggle, she follows along. Maybe it’s a bit idiotic, but this makes him feel better, like they’re sharing an expressed emotion back and forth, like she’s reminding him that he can feel something.
When his mother returns, looking perfectly put together, as if she dealt with things like this every day, Quincy is only more glad for Darcy on his lap, because his mother’s calm does the opposite of calming him down. It’s a reminder of him not being calm, that he felt terribly cold, and he hates that so much. He’s always tried so very hard to not let the grey world into his heart. He wants to be a fire against the cold, a light in the dark, not jaded. He so hopes it’s not jadedness he sees in his mother.
But no… no, there’s that little hidden smirk at the corner of her mouth, the tiniest hint of a dimple that tells him that smile is real when she sees how he is cuddling with Darcy. There’s no disapproval, and he shouldn’t care if his mother approves, he’s a grown man, but it still feels weirdly nice.
~~~~
Arthur… is a bit confused by the cuddling. Quincy and Darcy certainly did get close and comfortable with each other quickly? But, well, that’s… nice for them? And Mrs Harker doesn’t seem to mind about whether it’s appropriate or not, so he straightens up and sits forward, puts his notebook down on the coffee table in front of him and focuses on the impending conversation.
“As you are the one taking notes, may I ask for an overview of the situation and your speculations and worries?” Mrs Harker addresses asks him right off, then adds with a smile. “If I know my son, he’ll comment no matter what.”
And Arthur finds himself glad that Mrs Harker is taking charge, and in such a clear and direct manner. An overview he can do! Well, it does mean he has to mention how Mr Harker died… With a deep breath, he tells how they went to London to check on Mr Harker (no need to mention Gregory’s and Darcy’s abilities in detail, there, he thinks), and how they found him… well, staked in front of the building. And that he and Darcy snuck in to try to help, but… there wasn’t anything he could do, it was too late. And for the first time, he gets to properly share Mr Harker’s last words, glances between Quincy and Mrs Harker. “…I don’t suppose you have a brother?” he asks Quincy.
~~~~
“No?” Quincy wants to state it confidently but then, what does he know, he didn’t know he was a dhampir, after all.
~~~~
“If he does, I cannot remember giving birth to him.” Mrs Harker makes the comment off-hand, sounds distracted. “Staked, you say?”
Arthur winces, and nods. “Um… a big stake, too…” He shoots a look at Darcy. “The kind that either someone with a lot more than normal human strength put there, or a bunch of normal human-strength people went to a h…eck of a lot of trouble to make it look that way. It was all rammed into the ground, cobblestones pushed out and such.”
Darcy nods along. “I thought that looked really difficult to balance with the weight on top, too.”
~~~~
Hearing her be so nonchalant about it, Quincy winces, but his mother looks contemplative. He knows there’s something going on inside her mind, but he has no idea what it is. She doesn’t seem upset, either. Though… he always suspected that the marriage wasn’t really happy, but he also wasn’t sure how much of that was his bias speaking but… but does his mother seem even less phased by Harker’s death than he was?
Then again, she’s only hearing it, she didn’t see anything, and that little shudder has Darcy nuzzle her nose against his neck. He nearly startles, he wasn’t expecting it, and he wants to hiss for a moment but… No, the way she’s looking at him, there’s no pity, she’s not taking care of him, she’s protective and inquisitive, and maybe that’s actually nice, as long as they keep it equal and fair between them.
While he still tries to sort out what he feels about Darcy, his mother folds her hands in her lap and sighs. “Given that you know Lucy, I believe it would not be an intrusion on anybody’s privacy if I mention that this might be a clue towards a certain person. A man named Vlad the Impaler.”
~~~~
Arthur winces, because… well, that sounds apt. If someone went around staking people, that’d be a good name for them. Although… “Or it’s someone trying to frame him?” he offers, taps his fingers on his notebook. “It’s just… That, um, that wasn’t someone just killing Mr Harker because they were mad at him, or he got involved in the wrong thing and was in the way, or, er, whyever someone would want to murder someone else. It was in front of the house where everyone would see. Someone wanted to draw attention, a lot of it. So… so it could be a warning, or a threat? Or a frame job,” he concludes, then realizes he skipped over verifying something there: “Er, I assume that’s the vampire who turned Lucy and all?”
“It may well be a frame job as I was assured by my… late husband, Jack, and Art that they had killed the man.” Reaching for her tea cup, Mrs Harker looks over when Darcy speaks up and offers that her fathers learned that that probably didn’t work out, actually.
~~~~
“What? The vampire Harker has been raving about as the incarnation of evil for as long as I can remember is still out there? Shit!” Quincy eeps, then ducks when his mother coughs at his crude language, but focuses on Darcy’s words.
“That would take out the impossibility of it being him, I assume.”
~~~~
Now Arthur is glad he caught himself on that “hell” that almost slipped out earlier- clearly, Mrs Harker does care about appropriate language. “Could that be the ‘not him’ Mr Harker was referring to?” Arthur wonders. “Um… does he have a brother? Do vampires have brothers?” He’s not sure how that would work.
“Your guess would be as good as mine, Arthur,” Mrs Harker says. “I believe if there is an answer, your library is more likely to hold it than any I had access to.” Turning in her chair to assess the size of said library, she shakes her head. “I am afraid we might be at an impasse. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of information to go on here. Again, the safety of my children is paramount to me, and that includes more mundane troubles. I will have to check on my husband’s will, and soon. I have not worked since the birth of Lucy Jr. I have to assess the state of our financial situation.”
~~~~
Before Darcy can offer that of course she’ll help, Quincy shoots her a glare. Oh… this whole ‘don’t like being taken care of’ is a family thing, maybe. Okay, she won’t say it then.
~~~~
Arthur makes a note to research any ‘Vlad the Impaler’s he can find. Though there is still a question (or a dozen) there, and he blushes, but makes himself ask: “Er… I mean, if that’s the vampire who turned Lucy, and, um… where Quincy gets his vampire parentage from, er… I… don’t mean to pry or anything but… but, well, you kind of… must’ve met him…?”
~~~~
“I have.” For a second, his mother pierces Arthur with her gaze, then Quincy jumps in before she murders the poor man with that icy stare. “Father, Harker I mean- there were stories about the night the vampire forced his way into the asylum.”
“Nights.” And that’s all his mother is going to say on that topic, and she makes that very clear by how clipped the word was and how quickly she lifts her tea cup.
~~~~
Meanwhile, Darcy is wondering, but doesn’t say anything because she doesn’t know and she understands only too well. But Mrs Harker doesn’t seem to smell upset. Darcy wants to know how she does it. Or if it’s just the time that heals the feelings. And that vampire wasn’t even her husband, so there isn’t even the consolation of her doing her duty. Suddenly, she is very glad that Mrs Harker has Lucy, she is glad she has a good friend like that, a woman friend who could understand.
~~~~
Arthur eyes Mrs Harker warily, because… because on the one hand, he doesn’t want to cause her any distress, but on the other hand, he needs information, and she hasn’t really said what happened at all. “So, um, so he’s not… nicer than advertised?” he tries.
~~~~
Darcy wants to shush at Arthur, he’s a man, he doesn’t understand this. It’s not about nice. Some men just… well, they are men and women are, well… all the stories know that, too. And would he say that Gregory isn’t nice?
But Mrs Harker is looking back at Arthur, directly into his eyes even. “’Nice’ is not the word I would use to describe him.”
~~~~
Arthur wonders what word she would use to describe him, then- she’s being pretty evasive there, but… but he doesn’t want to cause her pain by prodding more, maybe she doesn’t want to think about it in detail, doesn’t want to remember it, so he accepts that with a nod.