In the morning Victoria
and Albert rode together in their family's buggy.
"Where were you last night?"
"I dreamt I was in paradise."
Victoria raised an eyebrow, "I would not call Leslie Elmhurst's bed
paradise."
Albert jumped. "How-I mean, what are you talking about?"
"Bert, you always want what you cannot have. She told everyone how her
father threatened you after catching you kissing her in the stables." She
sighed. "And I saw you paying the footman. Are you sure it's worth risking
your neck just to get a little pleasure?"
Albert smiled. "Oh yeah. You'll understand when you get married to some
stuffy aristocrat."
The blonde girl punched her older brother in the arm. "You're so mean. You
be careful today around Headmaster Elmhurst."
"I'll be fine. Go to class, show all those other girls how stupid they
are."
Victoria pushed her golden curls out of her face and gave her brother a kiss on
the cheek as they p8ulled up in front of the girl's academy and one of the
footmen came out, helped her down and escorted her into the building. He watched
until she entered the gates, and then pulled off towards his own school.
On arrival he hopped down and handed the reins off to some nameless stable hand
as he walked into the ancient building, his highly polished expensive leather
shoes sharply cracking as he walked on the marble floor at the entrance. Inside
the front door he took off his hat and gloves, handed them to his right and
seemly as if out of nowhere an usher appeared and took them and waited for his
overcoat with a silk padded hanger. The entire time Albert's eyes never once
left the end of the hallway where his class met. He always arrived early when he
dropped his sister off. Today he was early enough to have a sip of brandy with
Professor Jensen before the other students arrived.
As he walked, about ˝ way down the hall another usher came up to him with a
note on a silver platter. It was a summons from Headmaster Elmhurst. Albert put
the note in his pocket and shoed the boy away. Obviously he knew he was here,
and if he avoided the man now, he would just make a spectacle of him later. The
young man sighed and turned down the hallway to the Headmaster's office.
He walked up to the door; sitting at the desk just outside was his secretary, a
young man with hunching shoulders. Albert stood at the door for a few seconds
before loudly clearing his throat. The secretary apologized as he jumped up from
his desk where he had been frantically scribbling and opened the door announcing
him.
"Headmaster Elmhurst, Mr. Albert Westin here to see you." Albert
stepped in, onto the soft Turkish wool rug and the secretary closed the door
behind him.
To the left was a wall of bookcases with a large ornate mahogany desk covered in
books and papers and a new automatic gas lantern. To the right was a pair of
soft wingback chairs embroidered with the school's coat of Arms, and a small,
but well stocked bar with etched glass doors in a mahogany case that matched the
desk. Directly across from the door was the headmaster standing with his back to
Albert, one hand in his pocket, the right holding a crystal beveled glass of
what looked and smelled like bourbon as it sat on the mantle of an antique,
beautifully carved marble mantle that surrounded the fireplace. A clock, a vase
of fresh flowers, and a small portrait of the headmaster's family adorned it.
Above was a gold framed mirror that hung slightly tilted away from the wall that
Albert could see himself standing there in full, plus the Headmaster's sour
expression as he took another sip of his drink.
"You wanted to see me sir?" Albert asked breaking the silence like a
stone through a church window.
"I sent for you, yes." He took a deep breath, never turning away from
the softly glowing fireplace. "This morning as I got ready for work I
spotted someone leaving the manor, across the grounds of my estate. When
questioned, my household identified you as having spent most of the night with
my daughter. I wish to know your intentions."
"My intentions sir?" Albert swallowed hard.
"Yes." He still kept his back to the young man. "You plucked the
flower of my daughter's innocence, I wish to know what you intend to do about
it." The hand in his pocket was now a fist as he looked into the mirror for
the reflection of the younger man's reaction.
"I have no intentions for your daughter, as for the flower of her
innocence, when I arrived; she had long since been plucked."
A split second before, Albert realized what was happening, but his honor, and
knowing he was part of the cause of the headmaster's shame, he refused to react.
The older man turned quickly and swung at the young blonde man. The punch
connected, and with more force than either had expected. It almost seemed to go
in slow motion as Albert saw the anger swell in the man and as his fist flew
through the air and connected with the left side of his face. The next thing he
knew he was on the floor, his head was spinning and Elmhurst was walking back
over to the fireplace. He took another swig of the amber liquid and turned back
around toward the youth as he was getting to his feet.
"Mr. Westin, you will be making an honest woman of my daughter."
"I beg your pardon sir, but why would I purchase damaged goods as it
were?"
"But you were the one-"
"As I said before, I was not the one who deflowered your daughter, though I
do admit to partaking of that sweet fragrance. Still I have no intentions of
marrying her."
The older man sighed and finished his drink. "There's only one thing to be
done."
"I don't think so." Albert said as he rubbed his cheek, knowing full
well that he was about to be challenged to a duel. And without knowing how to
properly use a pistol he would surly loose.
"Excuse me?" Elmhurst stepped up to the boy and grabbed him by the
collar. "You're going to deny me justice?"
"Victor, what would Rev. Hamilton think about your opinions on Satan, and
where the horrors come from?"
He slapped his hand over the boy's mouth. "Where did you hear that?"
Albert slipped away from Victor. "A little birdie told me."
"You eavesdropped on my conversation last night."
The blonde let a smirk slip. "I'll forget that conversation, and everything
that happened last night if…you get me into your Thursday night
meetings."
"On one condition, you don't lay another finger, even a smile at my
daughter ever again."
"I will exalt her virtue from the rooftops if you want."
"That won't be necessary. But if what you say is true, do you know who had
beaten you to Leslie's virtue?"
Albert thought for a moment. "Both Greg and Carl said-" He stopped
short when he saw the pained look on the Headmaster's face.
"Don't say any more please. I'm sorry I asked. I'll meet you at the White
Stag at 7pm on Thursday. Bring a hooded white robe that covers your face."
The headmaster seemed to have more gray in his short wavy brown hair now as he
turned back to the fireplace with slumped shoulders and turned down the portrait
of his family.
Albert took the hint and left the room to go to class.
Victoria found her
brother lounging in his shirtsleeves and vest with a leg slung over the arm of
the velvet wingback chair, reading a thick, handwritten, leather-bound book by
the light of a silver candelabra that sat on the small table next to the chair.
Albert barely even noticed her. When he realized someone was in the room he
didn't even look up.
"I specifically said I wanted to be left alone. Since you're here you can
bring me some more candles and have my lunch brought here."
Victoria walked over to the heavy draperies covering the library windows and
threw them open. "What is up with you?"
Albert jumped up, slamming the book shut and hiding it behind his back, knocking
the candles over, wax spilling over the side table and onto the rug on the
floor. Luckily the candles went out before they hit the dusty rug. "Tori,
what are you doing here?"
"It's my home too. I'm worried about you Bert." She said as she picked
up the candles. "You were chasing Leslie Elmhurst like a dog after a bitch
in heat, and then suddenly you're ignoring her. You didn't say a word when she
was practically forced to marry that beer baron that was nearly 4 times her age.
You've missed half of your wrestling and rugby practices, instead staying at
home reading strange books in the dark during the middle of the day."
"You're right." Albert nodded solemnly. "I should quit trying to
read and further my knowledge and education, and go back to my childish ways of
playing games and chasing girls."
"Bert, you know that's not what I'm saying."
"Then what do you mean?"
"I'm worried about you. What are you getting into? You changed so suddenly.
You're not, um, you're not dabbling in the dark arts are you?" she had
lowered her voice to a whisper.
"Tori, really. Are we 6 year olds, back in catechism? I know better than to
try to use black magic."
"Then why the sudden interest in reading?"
"It's not for you to know."
"Albert Lancaster Westin!"
"Fine!" He pulled another book from behind his back. "Here, but I
warned you." He handed her the book entitled Kama Sutra.
"Albert!" She dropped the book after only seeing 1 page, and ran out
of the room.
The young man chuckled to himself on his ruse and after flipping through a few
pages of the dropped book, hid it back in a pocket in his vest. He then took out
the older tome and continued reading about various accounts of methods to
conquer the horrors and theories on where they may be from.
Albert spoke in soft
whispers at the weekly meeting at the White Stag when his small group was
approached by another pair of members to help perform a ritual. It was supposed
to identify and find the owner of a strange ring. Albert and one of his
associates agreed. The anonymity the hooded robes provided was both a boon and a
burden. If the men could identify him, he would never have agreed to it. As it
was, there were a lot of rosaries that would need to be said to cleanse his soul
and conscience.
Something was familiar about the associate that went with him to the private
room for the ritual. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he could swear that
he knew the other young man from somewhere. They entered the room that had
already been set up by a member all in white, with the bed pushed to one side
and a five pointed star within a circle drawn on the wooden floor in chalk. His
associate gasped at the sight but Albert reassured him.
"Pentacles have been used as a symbol of protection throughout ancient
history." Albert put a hand on his shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze.
This seemed to have eased the young man but he didn't say anything. There were
now 5 of them, and the member who had stayed in the room arranged them each to
stand at a point of the star. He explained that they were looking for the owner
of this strange ring which he placed in the middle of the diagram. He then began
the ritual by having everyone hold hands. At first Albert didn't notice, but
after the leader began speaking, he noticed that his associate that had come up
with him from the larger meeting room, and was standing next to him, had really
soft hands. Feminine hands. He had heard that women could get into the club
because everything is so anonymous and the robes and hoods hide everything. This
really made him wonder if he really did know this woman. Then he snapped back
into reality and listened to the ritual. The leader was now speaking in Latin.
It made him wish he had paid more attention in class. He could only pick up a
few words here and there, but listening had about the same effect as his Latin
teacher and the minister at mass did. Albert began getting drowsy. He tried his
hardest to pay attention to the words but it became harder and harder for him to
keep awake.
Albert blinked and opened his eyes. Now he was in a different room. He was in an
abandoned manor. It was dark in the room, even though there was the setting sun
coming through the naked window. There were sheets over the furniture and
paintings, none of the windows had coverings, all the rugs were rolled up. Then
he noticed the pair standing in the window. A tall thin man stood in the window
with long thick curly black hair hanging down his back. He was silhouetted in
the full length window he stood in front of, wearing a great coat. Most of his
details were hidden from him. The woman standing with him had long flowing
blonde curls. The tall man leaned down and inhaled her scent. In the glass
Albert could see her reflection, and instantly realized that it was Victoria
standing there. From the look on her face she couldn't move and was not here on
her own volition. Albert reached out to her and yelled her name.
Suddenly he was standing back in the room at the inn with 3 other men in white
robes. The associate he had come up with was now gone.
"Where is she?" Albert began frantically searching the room.
"What happened what did you see?" They began questioning him.
"My sister, he has my sister. How did he get her? Who is he?" Albert
suddenly turned to the leader of the ritual. "Tell me what's going on.
Now."
"He, he's a vampire we've been hunting. He keeps eluding us. We were hoping
to find out where he's at from this ring we found with his last victim. Where
did your friend go to?"
"I don't know who that was, I just realized it was a girl when you had us
all hold hands." Realization hit that the girl was his sister. He had
recognized her laugh earlier in the night and couldn't place it because he
assumed she was a man. "Dear God. He got her through the ritual. Do it
again, we need to do the ritual again and get her back."
"It doesn't work that way friend. I don't have enough of the chalk and the
holy water to do this again. Besides we would need another artifact from
him." He pointed to the ring which was now shattered on the floor.
Then he noticed, at the point where the woman had stood, there was a delicate
silver cross necklace in a small pile. Albert immediately recognized it as
Victoria's. He took off, shedding his robes as he ran.
When he got home he
burst into Maria's room, in the servants area of the house.
"Where is Victoria?" He didn't even notice their governess' niece
Anna, their new scullery maid who was changing into her nightgown, who was
sharing a room with her aunt.
"Mr. Westin!" She shooed him out of her room, wearing her night robe
and slippers. "What is wrong?" She asked as she shut her door behind
her as they stood in the hallway.
"I think she's been kidnapped. Where is she?"
"Dear God." Maria crossed herself. "I thought I had talked her
out of following you tonight. The bar is no place for a woman."
Albert left her and went to Victoria's room. He found it empty. He slumped down
in the chair in front of her vanity. He looked into the mirror and barely
recognized the man he had become. He was pale and his eyes were sunken from not
enough sleep.
"Victoria was right to worry about me. And now she's gone. It's all my
fault. She followed me to keep me out of trouble. Damn it!" He pounded his
fist on the table and broke down into tears. How would he explain to his father
what happened? If he found out that she was gone because he had participated in
a magic ritual, he would turn him into the church and probably be burned at the
stake. Then both of them would be lost for good. The only way would be for
Albert to go searching for her himself. He would find her, no matter what it
took.
The young man packed his bags and got ready to go. He glanced at himself in his
own mirror in his room, and he put down his bags and looked back at the man in
the mirror. On his own vanity he picked up his razor and shaved the hair
completely from his head. He was going to make a new start. He was going to help
people other than just pleasure for himself. He was going to hunt for his
sister, and he would not cut his hair until he had found her and brought her
home again.
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