Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
I look around for Valtu and see him speaking to a couple of professors, plus a tall, barrel-chested man with glasses and dark red hair, who I’ve never seen before. I don’t want to disturb them, so I head over to the bar.
Stop dead in my tracks.
The woman in a wispy white gown standing in front of me dealing with the bartender is none other than Saara.
I’d recognize her build—and her ice-cold vampire vibes—anywhere.
If I had my blade on me, it would definitely be glowing blue and tingling for me to kill her. My palms itch.
I think about turning around but before I can, she does.
She gives me a blasé look, about to stride past me with her glass of wine in hand, but then she kind of pauses, quickly appraising me with a cocked brow, and a feeling of dread fills my chest.
“Oh,” she says to me in a faux friendly voice. “You’re Professor Aminoff’s student.”
I try to smile, try to breathe. Why does she know that?
“I am,” I say, trying to move past her to order as the bartender gives me a look of impatience.
She reaches out and rests her fingers on my shoulder and it feels ice-cold and sickly, like some weird poison has leeched through my skin and into my veins.
“I really enjoyed your performance,” she says. “Both of them.”
Then she gives me a devilish smile and walks away, her heels clicking on the tile. I watch her disappear into the crowd, afraid to take my eyes off her.
What the hell was that about? Both of them?
I give my head a shake and the bartender calls me over.
I order a negroni with a splash of prosecco in it, and end up downing most of it before I’ve even left the bar area.
That’s when the tall red-headed man approaches me. He has a strange energy that I can’t make heads or tails of at the moment.
“Dahlia Abernathy?” he asks, his accent slight and vaguely German.
“Yes?” I ask, my suspicions running all over the place since that weird exchange with Saara. Everyone feels like bad news now.
He holds out his hand. “I’m a friend of Professor Aminoff.”
“Oh, are you a professor too?” I give his hand a shake.
“No I’m a doctor,” he says. “Doctor Abraham Van Helsing.”
I stare at him for a moment. “I’m sorry. Doctor Van Helsing the…” I lower my voice, “vampire hunter?”
He laughs. “Don’t be foolish, I am no such thing. It’s just a name.” He clears his throat and gives me a quick smile. “Vampires don’t hunt vampires.”
“Ah,” I say. “You’re a vampire. I figured as such.”
“You don’t seem surprised.”
“Val told me the signs to look for,” I say, though that’s a lie, it’s just my vampire radar feels a little scrambled tonight. “I’m pretty good at picking them out.”
“Did you know the woman you were just talking to was a vampire?”
I take a sip of my drink, nodding. “I did. She’s pretty obvious. She’s got all the bad vibes going on.”
“You’re right about that,” he says and gestures to the side of the courtyard by a large potted olive tree strewn with fairy lights. “Let us discuss this in a more private place.”
We walk over there and I have to admit, I’m more than amused that I’m talking to Van Helsing. “So, like, you’re going to have to explain to me because Val doesn’t talk about his past very much, but how are you Van Helsing? Did you know Bram Stoker too?”
He chuckles. “Never met the man. But I was a dear friend of Val’s at the time. When he met Bram in Cruden Bay and told his story, I was naturally a part of it. Well, I guess I shouldn’t say naturally, I didn’t think my friendship would come up, and I most certainly didn’t think that it was worthy enough to be fictionalized in the greatest piece of horror literature of all time. And I really didn’t think I’d one day be played in a movie by none other than the great Hugh Jackman.”
I laugh at that. “Well, you don’t look too different from him.” I’m not flattering him either, Van Helsing is hot, and though he’s wearing a suit, I have a feeling his body would rival Hugh’s. But he’s a vampire and that’s usually a given.
“Oh, aren’t you kind,” he says warmly, a twinkle in his eye.
“So what was Val like back in the day? What was this, the Victoria age?” The only friend of Val’s I’d met was Bitrus, but that was in the Red Room and I wasn’t able to ask him any questions. Of course, I want to know Bitrus and Van Helsing too, but honestly I’m just greedy for any information about my vampire’s lover.
He nods. “Val…” he trails off, his expression souring. “We had a few good years, the two of us in London. He had just come out of his shell—”