Chapter 101
Previously: The Rose of Whitby – Chapter 100
John crosses his arms and groans. “Just our luck. Because a vampire wasn’t bad enough, we get an insane one.” And now he’s wondering if Darcy saw that as a good or a bad thing? Is that a story trope for her to spice up the villain, or is she feeling bad for the insane monster being misunderstood, or however she constructs that? He loves his girl’s totally whacked-out mind, but sometimes, just sometimes, it can be a pain in the arse.
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Quincy is still stuck on his mother confirming that it is his one and only chance at love. She did steal his Basarab… just, that’s his father. He had a crush on his father? He remembers the mention of family attraction as a dhampir curse in the book, and he is just about ready to scream and hiss and burn the book just so he can claim that no, that can’t possibly really be all there is to it.
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Noticing Quincy’s fidgeting, Mina puts a hand on his arm but keeps addressing Arthur. “I don’t know enough but my husband suspects that Jonathan was… dealt with in this specific way to put suspicion on him. Potentially with the local vampire House, if I understood that correctly. Darcy is likely in grave danger not only from Radu directly, but from what he could do with her as a political chess piece against my husband.”
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Arthur groans. “Great. Powerful, scheming, insane vampire. That’s what I was worried about… Um, wait, local vampire house? What’s that?”
“I’m afraid a good explanation is beyond my own understanding but my husband likened it to the ruling noble house of a region. Apparently that is the Cavendish here in Britain.”
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At hearing that, John scrunches up his brow, he’s pretty sure he’s seen that name somewhere in the paperwork. “Wait, Cavendish? Wasn’t there a Cavendish on the ball list?”
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“Um,” Arthur says, pulls out his notebook, flicks back through the pages to his list of notes for the ball. “Oh, yes, here: There was a Richard Cavendish? …A really important guy, brother of the Duke of Devonshire, and he does a lot of politics, he’s on the list of people we tried to avoid…”
“Joy, now we have to figure out vampire politics on top of normal ones.” While John groans, Quincy clearly can’t help himself, he quips: “Says dhampir House Westenra.”
“That’s, um… Okay, you have a point,” Arthur concedes. “Though I don’t think that was on purpose, with the vampirism and stuff mixing with the regular politics…”
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“If we’re being technical, the last legitimate heir was Lucy. I believe she died. There is no human House Westenra, so there is no mixing at all,” Mina remarks with a chuckle, knowing full well that Lucy would find the idea raucously funny. She needs to find out if there is any way to send her a letter. With Jonathan’s death, there is very little reason to not let Lucy know what happened. She may not trust Jack, or worse Art, but Lucy ought to be more sensible to talk to about them both having dhampirs, no matter the father.
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“…Right. But, so, anyway, you think maybe the target of the, uh, display, was the local vampires rather than some kind of threat or warning to us?” Arthur asks. Though, this Radu was still after Darcy, so they’re still in trouble with a powerful vampire…
“It may well be both. I don’t know enough about Radu. The only thing I can tell is that I have not seen my husband so worried before. He was annoyed at the hunters back when I was pregnant with that wonder over there,” she gestures at Quincy, who promptly wrinkles his nose, “but never actually concerned. This is serious. Not letting Radu know anything I could prevent him from knowing was paramount, but apparently too late. He must have had a stronger hold on Darcy than I thought he could have.”
Arthur bites his lip, but… it’s possibly relevant, and maybe it has something to do with this? “Darcy is so convinced this Radu is nice… I guess that wouldn’t put her into a good position to fight his influence? If she doesn’t see the need to?”
Thinking about it for a moment, Mrs Harker shakes her head. “Not likely. I can’t really fault her, given that I was the one trusting my husband when all the men around me threw a hysterical hissy fit.” Holding in, she huffs in realisation. “Apart from Jack, why am I not surprised in hindsight? More to the point, if she is under Radu’s influence, then Jack might be the only person who has enough of a counter-influence on her, if I’ve seen the close parental attachment right. Do we have any hopes of contacting him?”
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John groans and runs his hand down his face. “No fucking kidding. If my girl listens to one man without thinking, it’s her papa. Who is fucking roaming the continent in search of your husband!” That came out more accusatory than it sounded in John’s head, but he doesn’t pull back from it, keeps glaring at Mrs Harker, up to the point where he breaks into a snort because seriously, a dhampir shouldn’t look so pathetic when making a wannabe threatening growly face at him.
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“…Well, if they managed to track him, they ought to return here,” Arthur realizes. “That… would be very helpful. Um, no, we don’t really have a way to contact them. Otherwise we would’ve done that days ago…”
(Is Quincy… showing John his teeth? It looks more like a sneer, Arthur thinks. Which, he supposes, conveys about the same thing. Apparently he doesn’t like John glowering at his mother… Though Arthur’s rather sure by now that Mrs Harker can handle herself perfectly well.)
“Here is to hoping that between Lucy and Jack, they can manage to move Art in the right direction.” Sighing, Mrs Harker shakes her head once more, then pats Quincy’s arm. “Your face may get stuck like that, child. My honour will survive without your protection. I believe I can deal with Darcy’s adorable admirer on my own. I know the type.”
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John blinks once, twice, then isn’t quite sure why he’s in danger of blushing, because that’s just bullshit, but he can feel a slight heat creep up his face at an older woman whose kid he looked after complimenting him. Sure, kind of also backhand insulting him, but still…
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…Adorable admirer? John? Adorable? That’s really not the word Arthur would use. He can totally imagine Lucy using it, though, so he supposes he sees how Lucy and Mrs Harker are best friends. As for Art… “Um, Art’s nice? He’s… not a vampire hunter anymore? Well, not with nice vampires.”
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Now Quincy is torn between smacking Blondie and dissolving into giggles, (which he really could need right about now,) because, really- really? Blushing about his mother? How is that one with Cycy if one little comment from his mother gets him flustered? Slightly different calibre of woman.
He means, definitely different calibre if even he reacts to Cycy, not that womanly, that one. But this entire household is bloody weird, they seem to know people his mother knows, and well at that, if even shy Arthur defends them.
“Art’s an overly sentimental sop who will walk on any leash dragged by a strong personality. Not being nice is never what I faulted him for. Thank God that Lucy is back where she does him a lot of good. And if I may remind you, Art is of the opinion my husband murdered Lucy. I do not trust him anywhere close to either my husband, nor my husband’s and my son,” Mrs Harker opines with an eye roll.
Arthur feels like he should defend Art some more, but… well, Art is sentimental, and kind of proudly so. So: “…’Art is of the opinion’? Are you saying he’s wrong and your husband didn’t kill Lucy?” He’s still missing all the details as to what happened, what, twenty or so?, years ago.
With a scoff, Mrs Harker refills her tea cup. Despite her obvious strong opinions on the topic, her hands are calm and steady, so Arthur can’t really tell what she’s feeling about it all. “Child, you saw my reaction to learning Lucy was alive, you tell me if you really think I would have any trust or allegiance to the man who killed her. That sin goes to Van Helsing and thereby Jack, but ultimately, Art, who decided he should chop her head off!”
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There’s the slightest clicking to the way his mother holds her tea cup on the saucer, and Quincy tenses up because, bloody hell, he’s not often seen her furious but, ouch, he doesn’t want to be in that Art’s shoes when she gets her hands on him. He screwed up and badly. Wait, he’s trying to figure out who is who here, and why he’s not heard of these people. Hold up a second! “Is that Dr Seward and Lord Godalming we’re talking here?! Mother, is that why you blocked it every time fa… Harker tried to invite them over?” How on earth did he end up with the one patron in all of England that apparently knows more about the family friends than he does?!
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Not to be petty, but John can’t help himself, that offended huff on Quincy is too fucking funny. Yupp, this is right in line for this household.
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“…Yeah, that’s them,” Arthur agrees with Quincy. And to Mrs Harker: “And, um, no offense, but I don’t really know you, so I have no idea if you being happy to see Lucy now means you wouldn’t have anything to do with someone who hurt her if you had your reasons…” He shrugs, a bit helpless. Plenty of people do things that make no sense to him, after all.
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Looking over the rim of her tea cup, his mother considers Arthur for several long moments, then begins to laugh, anger dissipating again, and elbows Quincy. “Have you set a new record, son? That was a direct, challenging sentence from Arthur with only a single ‘um’ in it.”
Quincy would very much like to take the credit, but he doesn’t really think that this one is on him. Although he can see that it clearly is a valid statement, because the way Blondie’s lips are thinning shows very much that he’s trying not to laugh along.
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Arthur blushes, of course- so social things aren’t his forte, but everyone here knows that. And… wait, was that sort of a compliment? A backwards one? He still doesn’t have enough information to decide whether he likes or trusts Mrs Harker, but at least she’s… not difficult to talk to? He feels less like he’s walking through a minefield full of hidden traps talking to her than usual. “…What’s Quincy got to do with that?” he finds himself asking.
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“Being a boon to any people he graces with his social skills and work to heal their insecurities. Obviously.”
Although it’s said perfectly matter of fact, his mother’s praise still has Quincy bite back a grin to not be too obviously pleased with himself, because it would be embarrassing to admit to how much it means to him that she sees him that way.
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“Oi, much as I understand the need for distraction, could we get back to doing something about our problem?” John jumps in because, yeah, this is about as much just talking as he can stomach while his girl is missing.
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Arthur nods his agreement, except: “So, is there something we can actually do? Or are we just waiting for… your husband to get back here?” (It feels weird to call him that. But now it also feels weird to call him ‘Mr Basarab’. Or ‘the vampire’, as opposed to ‘the other vampire’…)
Just about to answer, Mrs Harker is interrupted by Quincy jumping up and declaring that he can’t possibly have that meeting in what he’s wearing right now, and rushing out of the library.
After a moment of glancing at the door, Mrs Harker snickers and looks at John, (who is not even trying not to guffaw.) “I shouldn’t let him know that his father was there for his birth, should I? He might die at the knowledge that his father did see him naked anyway, but not the way he wishes.”
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That makes John cough hard, consider if he wants to go green for a few seconds, but she very much said it mockingly, so, no, he takes the joke as the mood enhancer he bitterly needs and keeps laughing instead. Now that is the kind of distraction he can better deal with. Still. “Apart from Molly having molly issues, what can we do?”
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Arthur feels a niggle of discomfort at Mrs Harker’s comment, but pushes it away- yes, what can they do? Though… Quincy rushing off makes something else niggle at his mind. Wasn’t there something…? He smacks his forehead. “Hannibal!” He rises hurriedly. “Sorry! Sorry, I told him I’d be right back, I, um, I’ll make it quick!”
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Looking after Arthur leaving as well, Mrs Harker leans back more comfortably on the sofa before smiling at John. “If you want to do something while, yes, I’m afraid we have to wait, your girl wanted me to teach her how to be a better mother and I know when I see good father potential, so I assume that is for you. How about you help me with putting Lucy Jr to bed?”
Darcy did what? And did Mrs Harker just compliment his attempts at looking after Lucy Jr? Could his fucking cheeks behave? He is not blushing! No, just rubbing his neck and trying to manage to look at her while mumbling that yeah, sure, he can do that.
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Arthur finds Hannibal wandering around the kitchen garden, investigating all the dark corners as he likes to do. Arthur apologizes profusely and explains about John and Quincy being injured and then Mrs Harker showing up. Hannibal chides him with a soft nip to the shoulder, but isn’t particularly upset. And he didn’t even eat anything gross for Arthur to wash out of the bridle. After a short but thorough session of brushing and scratches, and once the tack is put away, Arthur gives Hannibal one last hug, thanks him for all his help today, and then heads back inside.
Truthfully, he’d rather stay in the stable with Hannibal, where he can be distracted from Darcy missing, and what is that vampire doing to her?, and waiting for another vampire to show up… But, no, that’d be cowardly, he can’t just hide.
Of course, when he returns to the library, it turns out apparently Mrs Harker and John left for somewhere, too, and he’s all by himself. So he could’ve spent a bit more time with Hannibal. Oh well. He takes his seat again and pulls out his notebook to try and sort through the things he’s just learned.
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“Stop trying to take care of me!” This time Quincy yells, he’s done hissing, he’s tried to tell Cobb off three times by now and he really doesn’t have the emotional energy to play nice with his patron right now. He said he’ll play his affair for Cycy, not because he gives three shits about the idiot!
The idiot who never can decide if he is clingy to the utmost or not there at all! Just showing up in his room and pitying him! Who the hell does he think he is?
Sure as hell not some expert on fashion! Making comments about how he should dress is bad enough, trying to get his hands on him while also mumbling about vague memories about his own father is worse! Quincy is so close, so bloody close to actually slapping at him!
Thank the Divine, Arthur’s back in the library, maybe he can dump the tick on him. Ugh! He really has other things to worry about. He is fussing with his clothes because at least that’s one thing he has control over with this entire disaster. One little fucking thing under his control, is that too much to ask for from this grey world that hates him at every possible step it can?
Give him one thing, take two away again! Every time! He hates it!
And if he doesn’t cling to that hate of the world, he knows he’ll break down into sobs and there’s nobody here he feels he can do that with and that makes him hate the world even more, because all he wanted was to hold on to the hope that maybe, maybe Basarab could be that man for him.
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The shouting makes Arthur look up in plenty of time to see Quincy storming in, Gregory hovering behind him.
Oh. Looks like Gregory is fine. Which is good to know? Seeing as he kind of vanished when they reached the fence…
“Um… good to see you’re okay?” Arthur offers Gregory, who gives him a confused look, and declares that of course he’s okay! Then he pouts and adds that he tried to follow the evil vampire, but he was too fast.
What? Gregory did what?! Arthur immediately sits bold upright, and demands exactly that: “You did what?!”
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Quincy finds himself chiming in on the “You did what?!” before huffing and throwing his hands up. “And you didn’t think that was important to tell me?”
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With some more prodding, Arthur manages to extract that apparently, no, saying something right away didn’t occur to Gregory, he lost the vampire anyway, so he didn’t think of it, and that Gregory did sense Darcy’s direction of movement and followed her towards town, until she suddenly started moving much, much faster.
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If it wouldn’t ruin his makeup, Quincy would bury his face in his hands. The vampire who got Cycy to stake him was just over in town? Was he there already when Quincy arrived at the train station? Could he have walked into him accidentally?
The level of relief that washes through him when he hears his mother’s voice cut into the explanation is far too big to ever admit to, but here he is, glad that she’s her usual sensible self.
“You have the ability to sense her whereabouts, child?” Walking down from the mezzanine quickly, John on her heels, she fixates Gregory with a look. “If your connection is that strong, you should be able to access one of her senses. We have nothing to lose even should Radu notice us, but much to gain if you can see where she is held. Concentrate, child, focus on her, focus on her blood that must be in you.”
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Gregory might be able to do something like that? Arthur sits forward in interest, tense- “But the vampire won’t be able to control him through that, right?” he asks.
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“I cannot tell you. Let us keep it short.” Without looking over to Arthur, Mina keeps a close eye on Gregory, just in case there is any warning sign. It appears John has had a similar thought, she feels him just outside her vision, but the way Gregory is throwing glances at him probably means that the darling man is looking ready to punch him, such an endearing proactive attitude on that one.
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Arthur nods, and keeps his eyes on Gregory, expectantly.
It doesn’t take long before his eyes turn red and he starts to growl, only to have Quincy hiss at him to describe what he’s seeing rather than only getting angry about it. This is about helping Cycy!
Arthur nods vigorously in agreement, pen poised over the page for notes- not that he’s sure Gregory can see him, and also, those red eyes on him are kind of creepy…
At first Gregory complains he can’t see properly, her eyes aren’t fully open. “But she’s on that guy’s lap! I hate his grin!”
Arthur pushes away any discomfort at the idea of Darcy being on the lap of someone who’s manipulating her, any thoughts of how he himself might feel in that situation, and instead asks: “What else? What can you see? The surroundings? Any clue to the location?”
“She’s just looking at him!” Gregory pouts, then growls again as his eyes stop glowing. “Hey! Why is it suddenly gone?”
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Mrs Harker sighs and sits down after all. “Because I have to suspect that Radu noticed your spying and did something about it.”
Fists still clenched, John really hopes that this Radu didn’t do anything that would permanently hurt Darcy to stop them from spying. He’d feel terrible if this little bit of useless info cost Darcy. Although, her eyes aren’t fully open, the guy is grinning at her… He tries not to, but his mind is right back to the sloppy bite and him knowing full well that Darcy tends to nap after sex.
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“Are you okay?” Arthur asks Gregory, the concern in his voice obvious- and Quincy supposes someone should care about the dick-for-brains cat. “He’s not… in your mind or something, is he? He didn’t hurt you?” Gregory denies that, assures Arthur that he’s fine, then scowls and repeats that he really hates that guy!
Not that Quincy doesn’t understand why Cobb would, but the way he says it makes him think of a child who had his toy taken away. And maybe that is a bit dark, but the way he’s seen Cycy and him interact, maybe it’s not even that far off. Entitled husbands, it’s a thing. A gross thing but, well, now he’s here to heal and help, if they could just please get Cycy back and him feeling like he can actually be around her. But everything ought to be better than dealing with his actual father. He’ll take the trouble in this household over that.
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“What now?” John grunts, arms crossed, and after just one grumpy side glance at it, leaning himself against a book shelf.
“That didn’t help us figure out where she is or what’s going on…” Arthur observes. “Are we back to just waiting?”
“I am afraid so, child.” Mrs Harker says, then gives them all a long look. “I did just insist that John grabs a quick dinner with me while he helped with Lucy Jr, what about the rest of you?”
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Without even noticing how automated it is, Quincy gets back up and apologizes to his mother for that oversight. He is not getting one of her motherly scoldings for not eating enough (again). She’s always on him for that. Not his fault he can’t always get food while he’s avoiding coming back to the house Harker is… was in.
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“I could eat,” Arthur agrees, thinking about it. There was running around in the cold, and he might as well not face vampires and whatever crisis is next with an empty stomach.
When Gregory tries to protest that he’s fine, Mrs Harker gives him a look and sends him along with Arthur and after her son. John may stay, she tells him to come sit with her, he’s dependable, and she would like him to keep an eye on her while she tries to write that letter to Lucy she was thinking about.
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At hearing her ask for his protection, John is right back to cussing himself out for feeling flustered. Instead, he nods sharply and takes several long steps over, men walk decidedly like that, right? She asked him to look after her, so he will, properly, standing, not sitting. And he only starts regretting that when he realises over half an hour later that standing at attention is fucking difficult and doesn’t really feel like doing anything.