Giving this idea a try, would love some feedback!

That southern accent was flawless. Fake, but flawless. Heads turned with every shot he took. The woman gasped and the children stood on their tiptoes to see over the towers of people. The little boy next to me was jumping up and down with excitement and imitating the shooting sounds as the pistol fired. He couldn't see that this man was obviously wearing a wig, a fake mustache and a ridiculous bowtie. But it was the man from my dream all the same. The one that could help us.

I glanced back my sister who was sitting in the stands. Her head was the only one that didn't turn, her hands were the only ones that didn't clap when the series of dramatic shots caught my eye and I grinned, turning back to the show. I had pushed my way through the crowds to the front. I wanted a good view of my man. That's what I'd been calling him since I had the dream, my man.

"General Custard gave the word, his blond hair flapping in the breeze like something from myth!" My man shouted over the cheers. The crowd fell silent again. "Stand here and fight boys, fight for you very lives!" The cheering started again. Someone on the other side of the field threw a ring which he shot expertly. I wasn't really listening to the story he was telling. That was for the brainless. I was studying him the way I studied everyone. You could learn a lot about a person from simply watching the way they walked. He thanked the crowd and tipped his hat before shooting into the audience above a group of woman who screamed. He was impressive. I caught up with Vanessa as the crowd was filing away.

"Are you sure he's your man?"

"I'm sure. And you said you'd let me do this. I feel like I'm being babysat."

"You are," she said unapologetically. Then she grinned and slipped her arm through mine. "So, are we following him then?" I watched him wandering off with a girl.

"No, we're waiting until he's done. Then we're following him." She laughed. We sat on a bench with a clear shot to the back exit of the fairgrounds. She was distant. That was never good. I was constantly watching Vanessa. She had good nights and bad nights. Last night had been a bad one. I was hoping this man could help us. In the dream, I'd felt like he could. That was typically how my dreams went. They were just feelings. And then I woke up knowing things about the person I'd seen. For instance, I knew that this man was not really an American cowboy sharpshooter. He was an actor in need of money. He traveled everywhere to get it. We did have a common interest though. America. I was hoping to use that. I still had my American accent from when I was at school there. I'd perfected it to blend in. Now that I was home, I spoke with a blend of both. But it was a way into a conversation at least.

"Are you alright Ness?" She was wringing her hands.

"I'm tired of waiting, that's all. How long does it take for a man to have a quick- don't look at me like that." I was giving her my 'don't lie to me, I know you' look. "I'm fine." I nodded. If she needed me, she'd ask.

"There he is." He'd taken off the wing and was sneaking past everyone unrecognized. I got up and ran after him.

"Ava, wait!" Vanessa called after me. I giggled and ran faster. He stopped to exchange money with another member of the act. I went to make my move. Vanessa had caught up to me and put her arms around my waist, preventing me from moving. "This is why you need to be babysat. Be patient. You can't approach him now, not in front of people he knows."

"Oh, fine." Patience was not my thing. We followed him to a pub in the east side. He sat by himself at a table staring at his stopwatch. "Can we go now?" She nodded, smiling. We walked up to his table. He didn't notice or even look up until Vanessa spoke.

"You lied." His eyes met Vanessa's. "By my reckoning, you were only a boy when general Custard died."

"Also, there were no survivors." I was using more of an American accent than I normally did. He leaned back in his chair, unfazed.

"That's what we call a tall tale, darlin'." I grinned.

"Exceedingly tall."

"Blame our nation. We're storytellers. Join me, won't you?" Ding ding ding. Vanessa and I slid into the booth across from him. "You saw my exhibition?" He waved at a waiter.

"Highly impressive," Vanessa commented. I'd let her do some of the talking now. She was better at it than I was. I could read people like books, but I had no patience for small talk. Or patience at all. "Especially your finale."

"Well, you gotta leave them wanting more. As we say in show business." The waiter came and put two empty glasses in front of us. "Your accident is northan," he said turning back to me. "You're from America."

"I spent three years at school in New York," I answered. "The accent fended off bullies." He chuckled.

"And what might I do for you ladies?"

"We have a need for some night work," Vanessa answered.

"Oh honey, don't we all?" She leaned forward.

"I have a need for a gentleman who's comfortable with firearms and not hesitant to engage in dangerous endeavors." Made that up. But she couldn't well tell him it was because I'd seen him in a dream. "Or was all that a tall tale as well?" He fiddled with his half empty glass.

"What do you think?" His eyes locked with mine. There was already a connection between us, I'd made the first move. I was the one who was going to be able to convince him to do this. I glanced at his arm.

"Expensive watch, but threadbare jacket. So you're sentimental about the money you use to have. Your eyes are steady, but your left hand is shaking. That's the drink. So you're keeping it below the table, hoping I won't notice." He raised it and took a sip to hide his smile. "You have a cut healing on your other hand. The result of a brawl with a jealous husband, I'm guessing." His grin widened as he looked at his hand to confirm I was right. "Your boots are good quality leather, but have been resold more than once. I see a man who is accustomed to wealth but has given himself to excess and the unbridled pleasures of youth.A man much more complicated than he likes to appear."

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Jesus Christ."He looked at Vanessa. "Sisters?" She nodded, smiling. He pushed the bottle of vodka in her direction. "So it's a job, this night work?" I liked him. And I didn't like many people, especially men. He was different somehow. I felt that in my dream too.

"Yes," Vanessa answered.

"Something with a criminal set up?"

"Would it matter?"

"I don't know."

"Then why else?"

"Show's heading off to Paris pretty soon."
"The job's tonight."

"Is it a murder?"

"Would it matter?" He put his glass down and looked at me. He was harder for me to read than other people. I could tell him about the price of clothes, but not so much what he was thinking. It made me nervous. Reading other people was my line of defence. Without it I felt vulnerable.

"One smile and I say yes." I smiled without realizing I was doing what he'd asked. Vanessa handed him a piece of paper.

"Meet us at this address at 11 o'clock."

"I don't know London."

"Then ask a policeman," I suggested, coping Vanessa and getting up.

"You have names?" he called after us.

"Yes," we responded in unison.

"Are you sure he's the man?" she asked again.

"Ness, I'm sure."

"You have to be. If not, we're risking everything."

"He can help us, I saw it." I almost felt like I was convincing myself. But my dreams had never been wrong in the past. I dreamed about things that hadn't happened yet. Feelings about people I'd never met. In the dream I'd seen that man. I'd seen the circus, where to find him, I'd seen his name on the circus cart, Ethan Chandler, and I'd seen my sister. My other one. And I'd knew that he could help us. Sure enough, he met us at the address not a minune over 11. The alleyway was silent and poorly lit. But I doubted he'd asked a policeman how to find it.

"Mr. Chandler," Vanessa greeted him. "I didn't expect you to be on time."
"Oh, I never keep ladies waiting." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Very wise. This way please." I gestured for him to go in front of me. Vanessa knocked twice on one of the doors and an asian man opened a slit in the wood to look out. I waved and he opened it. The hub was full of people, but none of them were moving much. They were all asian and had bottles in their hands. It was silent and lit only with candles. Ethan looked nervous.

"Creepy, isn't it?" I whispered to him. "Don't worry, none of them can understand us anyway." A ghost of a smile passed his lips. We walked to the end of the room where a man in a top hat was talking in a hushed voice to a woman. He came over to great us. There was never any hello's with Malcolm.

"This is the individual?" he asked Vanessa even though I was the one who found him.

"Yes."

"Did you bring your weapons?" Ethan moved aside his coat to reveal his pistol. Malcolm turned to take over Vanessa's place leading the way.

"One minute," Ethan stopped him. "What are we doing here?"

"We're looking for someone. More than that you don't need to know," Malcolm told him dryly. "Do not be amazed at anything you see. And don't hesitate." They started off again.

"Coming?" I asked. He followed me. It took walking down one flight of steps to the creepy, dim lit basement for Ethan to ask another question.

"Who exactly are we looking for?" My sister, Malcolm's daughter.

"Someone very dear to me who's been taken." He opened a large door. The ceiling got lower and the air got thinner. There were pillars everywhere and the ceiling became greater. Three men were waiting for us at the end of the corridor. Or at least, they looked like men. Malcolm addressed the one in front."That which you serve, we seek." The man began to respond in another language. The one to the left stepped into the shadows. Malcolm answered him in the same one, but I couldn't understand them. Ethan had his hand on his gun. I heard a woman gasp and start crying. Vanessa looked at the ceiling. She'd heard it too. The leader turned like he was going to leave, then turned and launched himself. Malcolm hit him and he growl. Ethan grabbed me and pushed me to the side as another creature attacked. They'd been circling us the whole time.

The crying got louder and I went in the direction of it. It seemed to be coming from everywhere. Vanessa was looking around too while the men fought off the monsters. We ended up just looking at each other in confusion. If she hadn't been hearing it, I would have thought it was only in my head. Ethan started shooting. I wasn't paying attention to the fight, I had to find the source of the crying. I knew it. It was Mina. It got louder off to the right and I ran in that direction.

"Ava!" Vanessa shouted after me. I heard her shoes on the stone. It was pitch black, so I stopped and waited for her to catch up. She went in front of me taking my hand. She knew I hated the dark. The crying got louder.

"Is it Mina?" I asked softly. She didn't answer. My heart was pounding. It was because of the dark, I told myself. We followed the crying sound into another room. It wasn't pitch black anymore. But I was only grateful till I saw the bodies. Or rather, what was left of them. It was piles of what looked like muscle and bones. And definitely blood. It was all over the floor, the walls, everywhere. On the ground there was a heap of blond hair. Vanessa's hand dropped from mine as she knelt and turned the head. It wasn't Mina. scolded myself for thinking it was, for letting myself feel so much hope. For a second, I thought it was over. The woman's eyes were closed, no signs of life. But there were fang marks on her neck. Next to her was the pale body of a baby. I knelt beside it, even though I knew it was dead. I felt sick to my stomach. There were footsteps behind us. It was one of the creatures.

"Where is she?" Vanessa demanded. It was looking at me.

"Little girls shouldn't play with toys like that." The man he had once been was Spanish. He wasn't a man at all now. Vanessa stood up. I stayed on the ground because I couldn't move. What kind of creatures killed innocent babies?

"Where is your master?"

"Closer than you think. Would you like to meet him? How about you, princess?" A gun fired and the monster fell. Ethan was behind it, lowering his gun. Malcolm ran to the blonde's body.

"It's not her." Vanessa gave me a hand up.

"Are you alright?" I nodded. I wasn't, but I couldn't let her see that. Mina wasn't here, of course I wasn't alright. None of us were. Every time we had a lead it ended up like this. The Disappointment, misery, helpless. There was a growling sound and Ethan jumped back. One of the bodies was moving. It stood up, letting limbs topple off of it. Unlike the vampires, this thing couldn't be mistaken for human. It's skin was pale and it had no hair. When it growled, I could see the animal teeth and it's eyes were bright red. I had seen one before. The memory suppressed itself and made me feel numb. Ethan started firing, but the monster didn't do as much as flinch. It picked him up and threw him into a shelf.

"Ethan!" I ran to where he'd fallen and touched his arm. I saw flashes of a wolf, a woman and a little girl screaming and then blood on the walls. That happened when I touched people. I could see their secrets, but I didn't know what they meant. The monster roared in anger, going for it's next target. Vanessa stepped between it and Malcolm and it stopped. Like it was thinking about it. That gave Malcolm time to run it through with his sword. Ethan was moving, he was alright. That worked better than the bullets. He'd pierced it's heart with wood.

"She's not here," Vanessa said as I helped Ethan up.

"There must be another," Malcolm said.

"Another one of those?" I asked. "Hell no!" I really hoped not. I hoped I'd never have to see one of those things again. Malcolm leaned over the blond.

"Is there another?" he demanded. Her red eyes snapped open. "Is there another creature like that?" He turned her head towards it. Normally waking up the monsters wasn't a good idea, but when it came to Mina, Malcolm didn't care about anything else. He'd never feel that way about me. He should. After all, I was his daughter too. But I'd spent most of my life not knowing that. The vampire screamed.

"Jesus Christ!" Ethan was starting to lose it. His adrenaline was wearing out.

"Don't move, Mr. Chandler, this night's not over," Malcolm told him. No, it never was.

"Help us," I begged. "Please." I didn't want him to run. We needed him. Mina wasn't here and he and that dream were the only things left connecting me to her. The vampire woman was screeching as she tried to get away from Malcolm. I covered my ears as he drove the sword through her and her screech reached ear sharttering volume. Malcolm bundled up the body and we went for a walk. We'd done this all before, more than once. Normally it wasn't that gross. I didn't know where we were going now, but unlike Ethan, I'd learned not to ask. I was scolding myself for thinking I was going to get to talk to my sister again today. I couldn't afford hope like that. And seeing that thing made me want to crawl and into a hole and hide. Vanessa's arm nudged mine as we walked in silent comfort.

"What is this place?" Ethan asked again when we walked in the doors of yet another dark and creepy building. There were people gathered around tables, older men and young ones my age. On each table there was a dead body. I spotted organs being taken out of one of them and looked away.

"You sure take us to some nice places, Malcolm," I said sarcastically.

"Where the resurrection men claim their trade," Malcolm told me. I didn't look at what the people were doing. I'd seen enough blood for one night. "The surgeons must supply their students with ample subjects. When the legal channels are exhausted, their forced to resort to other means." We stopped in front of one of the men who was cleaning off a naked body. "I'm in need of your services, sir."

"If it isn't from the river. They're useless once the fish have got them."

"Not from the river, no."

"Well that's a blessing. Bring it round the back and see if my assistant can take you." We put the body on a stretcher and pushed it out back. There was a man leaning over a table poking at a severed arm.

"Your master said you might assist us." He didn't turn.

"I have no master."

"The piprotar up front, I mean."

"Go away."

"Rude," I said.

"I'll pay you for your time," Malcolm assured him.

"You can't afford it."

"You're very proud," Vanessa told him.

"Take it to a slaughter house, I'm not a medical practitioner. I'm engaged in research."

"You're a man with a bloody knife like everyone else out there," Ethan informed him. "So stop putting on airs." He finally looked up. He was younger than I thought, not much older than me.

"American?"

"Very clever," I said. He looked from Ethan to me and back again.

"Do you know anything about electrical currents? Your country is making such strides as we labor in the dark ages of cold and wait. Have you any experience with the principles of Calvinism?" Oh great, we got a insane.

"Oh the usual," Ethan told him. He had no idea what he was talking about.

"I have urgent an autopsy. Will you assist us?" Malcolm asked. He wasn't patient either.

"I'm occupied solely in research. I will not bore myself in explanation you could not possibly understand. Now kindly stop wasting my time and get out." Vanessa walked over to our body and took the sheet off. The doctor jumped up.

"My God." he started rambling off medical parts that the creature didn't have as he looked it over. "Trauma and penetration through the aubrilam seems the likely cause of death, but I suspect you knew that. Age of the victim is impossible to determine. The teeth seem barely use which seems unlikely given the muscular development." He grabbed a magnifying glass. "Hand me that." He pointed to a knife behind me. I gave it to him. He started to cut along where the puncture wound.

"Well, I know why the skin seems peculiar."

"Why?" Malcolm asked.

"Forceps," the doctor pointed. Vanessa handed them to him. "Because it isn't skin."

"Thank you, Albert Einstein." He ignored me. Or he was too involved to even hear.

"It's more like an exoskeleton. Like on an insect. He must have been a hearty devil."
"You're not kidding," Ethan muttered.

"Hold on, what's this?" He pulled the skin apart. Inside of bone and muscle, there seemed to be another layer of skin. It was black and had marks carved into it that looked like some form of hieroglyphics. "Fascinating."

"Are they Egyptian?" I asked.

"Undoubtedly," Malcolm answered.

"Well," the doctor said, taking his eyes off the body for the first time since Vanessa had uncovered it. "It would appear you have an Egyptian man with no particular age who had some point in his his indeterminate life span decided to sharpen his teeth, cover himself in hieroglyphics and grow and exoskeleton, or you have something else altogether."

"I'm gonna go with option two," I muttered. We left the body with the doctor and went to leave.

"Who the fuck are you people?" Ethan asked. We didn't answer. That was a very complicated answer.

"Do you know Grandage place in Westminster?" Malcolm asked him.

"I could find it."

"Number eight. Come at noon tomorrow." He didn't do goodbye's either.

"Unless you'd rather spend the rest of your life shoot clay targets and telling lies," Vanessa said.

"Goodbye Ethan," I smiled at him knowing he'd be on time again.

I was sitting on the stairs when Sembene, our doorman, let him. He looked around for a moment before his eyes rested on me.

"Hello Ethan," I said cheerfully. I knew he'd come.

"Nice house."

"It's not mine." By the time I'd reached the bottom of the steps, he'd already wandered into Malcolm's study.

"Not what you expected?" I asked him. He shrugged.

"Will your sister be joining us?"

"Only of Sembene tells her you're here." He was still my man. And Ethan deserve some answers. Malcolm and Vanessa wouldn't give them. We were all untrusting, but I felt bad for Ethan. And I wanted to play with him; just a little.

"I'm Ava Ives. My sister's Vanessa. Come this way." I turned before he could respond. I lead him into the library and shut the door. He let out a breath.

"It's my favorite room too. Tea?"

"No thanks." He paced to the fireplace as I sat behind a table covered in tarot cards. I had a feeling he saw the pentagram pattern that covered the entire floor, though he didn't mention it. "So you're a fortune reader?"

"Mmm, I don't like that term."

"Spiritualist?"

"If you like."

"Wrapping on the table, voices from the great beyond?" I laughed.

"No." I started to divide the cards. "So you're a skeptic?"

"Not about everything. Last night for example."

"And you want an explanation?" It wasn't a question. I'd be dying if I were him.

"I think I should see Sir Malcolm." Even Ethan saw me as a child who couldn't understand him. I knew exactly how he felt, I lived it. Adults keeping things from me even though I was no longer a child. Or maybe it was because I was a woman which was equally as worse. But I knew that Ethan was different.

"I can speak for him." I spread the second half of the deck over the table. "Do you believe in other words, Mr. Chandler? A half world between what we know and what we fear? A place in the shadows rarely seen but deeply felt. Do you believe that?

"Yes." I looked up at him. I hadn't expected him to answer so quickly.

"That's where we were last night. Where some souls are forced to live always. If your believe in curses-" the door opened and Vanessa came in.

"Cards already? You must have really won her over, Mr. Chandler." I wondered how long she'd been listening outside the door. "Tell me, are you a wise man?" I grinned at the table.

"Not especially."

"A wise man would walk away from this house and make a concerted effort to forget everything that acquired last night." She put her hands on the back of my chair. "He would not look back."

"That sounds like a warning."

"It's an invitation." She liked him. And Vanessa didn't like many people, especially when it came to their interaction with me. "Should you be so unwise as to entertain the idea, we have continued use of a man of your skills. Your kind of man." I started making stacks of two with the remain cards.

"And what kind of man is that?"

"One of great violence and hidden depths. You play your role well, Mr. Chandler, but this is not who you are." He put his hat down and leaned across the table.

"Tell me what this is all about." I glanced at Vanessa.

"Sir Malcolm's daughter was taken by a creature such as the one we killed."

"She's also my half sister," I added.

"Sir Malcolm's your father?"

"Biologically. And he's not Vanessa's, other side of the family, but that's not the point. I was there when the thing took her. We didn't think there was another."

"There's much we don't know and must discover," Vanessa agreed.

"So what you're part in all this?" he asked her.

"My part is my own."

"I've been a hired gun before. Doesn't suit me. There's no exultation in killing for gold." He'd leave, but he'd come back. How could he resist it, he was invested now.

"A wise man after all," Vanessa praised him. "Sebene has your money at the door, he'll show you out. I hope you enjoy your life as an actor, it seems to be what you're suited for." I was smiling at him.

"If you do find yourself in that half world we spoke of and seek to escape it, you know our address."

"And what do you seek to escape?" He asked Vanessa. He was wiser than he made himself out to be. He read people in the same way I did, lived off it.

"Perhaps the same thing you do. We all have our curses, don't we? Good day, Mr. Chandler."

"Miss Ives."

"Wait," I said as he passed me. "Pick a card." He went to reach for one. "Not like that! You have to think about it. You have to let them work on you." He gave me a look so I scooted my chair closer to him. Vanessa backed up so I could play my game. The tarot cards were my thing, she didn't like them. She didn't like anything to do with the supernatural.

"Look into my eyes," I ordered Ethan. To my surprise, he did. "Believe." He reached for a card again, not breaking eye contact with me. He chose out of the inner circle. The lovers. I smiled.

"You can go now."

"You're not going to tell me what it means?"

"What does it mean to you?" I said cryptically. After he'd left, Vanessa and I found Malcolm at his hallway desk. He had a lot of desks.

"Was he tempted?"

"Intrigued I would say," Vanessa answered him.

"Then he'll be back."

"He's intending to leave town."

"He won't. We won't let him. I'll require you both in an hour. We have an appointment." I hate those. It meant talking to stupid people.

"Where are we going?" I asked. He was looking at the picture of his children. The two that weren't me. He looked at it a lot. It was taken before I was born when Mina and Peter were very young. Peter had been my older brother. He'd died before he even knew that.

"Amongst dead things." I didn't want to look at the picture anymore, so I left without more questions. More dead things, more blood, more monsters. Turned out it was a museum owned by rich people who were all obsessed with Egyptian artifacts. The butler showed us into one of the offices. The man who greeted us had a huge smile on his face and hair like a circus person.

"Mr. Lyle," Malcom shook his hand.

"Sir Malcolm! Oh it is you. The photograph in your book does you no justice. Say you will inscribe it for me? Your book I mean. It's something deeply personal." He was using a French accent and I was pretty sure he wasn't from France. I gave Vanessa a look. She held her finger to her lips. She was much better at pretending to be a polite, proper woman. I would have rather looked at all the artifacts that lined the shelves of the room than listen to the men talk.

"It would be a pleasure. Vanessa and Ava Ives," he introduced us.

"Could I be more charmed?" he kissed Vanessa's hand. "No I could not." He kissed mine and resisted the urge to yank it away and hit him with it. "And what brings you the humble confines of the department of Egyptian artifacts?"

"What are these?" I'd found a large glass tank of bugs feasting on the on a very old looking skull.

"Oh, carrion beetles. We employ them when the usual solvents are deemed to embracive. They eat the flesh don't you know? Sorry my dear it's a bit ghoulish to the lame person." Lame person?

"Very exotic. Where do they come from?" Vanessa asked. I could see her reflection coming through from the other side of the tank. She grinned at me and I knew that from her position Circus Hair couldn't see. I grinned back.

"Actually Waveny in Suffolk."

"Not exotic at all." She'd known that before she asked him. She had her own ways of playing with people that were far more discrete than mine. I envied her for that.

"Mr. Lyle, I was hoping you could assist me." Malcolm broke up the game. " I have a bit of hieroglyphics in need of translating." I paced around the room looking at the different objects and models. Malcolm laid the photographs I took of the creature's markings on the table. Peter had gotten me my own camera for my ninth birthday. I'd been obsessed with it for months.

"These aren't from a scroll, what are they?"

"They're from a tattoo-"

"On a corpse," I added cheerfully and Vanessa turned towards the window to hide her laughter at the look on Circus Hair's face.

"Oh. What have you got for me then? Late arphic spirit, eighteenth dynasty, peopahes earlier-" Vanessa was looking at a cage of birds and they started bouncing off the walls crazily. Lyle looked up at the noise and then continued. "Conjoined in this fashion they translate roughly to an idea meaning blood cure or transformation. Or there is a theory of something more along the lines of a malediction. A blood curse." I looked up from the egyptian cat statue I'd been inspecting. "Trust me, those Egyptians were rather madcat when it came to specifics. All very metaphoric." He started using his magnifying glass again to inspect the photographs. I wished we'd just brought him the body. I wouldn't have been acting so posh then. He got very quiet.

"Are there more of these?" His eyes were wide.

"Yes," Malcolm answered. He rose himself back up in the chair.

"I should like to see them. But not here. The British museum is no place for actual scholarship, after all." No, of course not. "And before I engage in professional matters, I feel it is vital to engage in social conquests. Get to know the sort of people one is working with, do you understand?" Oh dear lord. "My wife and I entertain on occasion. Lavishly you can be sure, she's absurdly rich. We're having a little gathering Friday next, perhaps you and the ladies could join us." Please say no.

"This is a matter of some urgency."

"Good heavens, Malcolm. There hasn't been anything urgent about the Egyptians for two thousand years. And I'm dreadfully busy, you understand? Ever so many papyri to translate." Vanessa and Malcolm were exchanging a glance. "Isn't that a delicious word? Papyri? Sounds like something eaten by little Persian boys, doesn't it?" He acted stupid and rich, but he wasn't. He was a businessman and a good one at that. "So, I'll see you Friday the next?" It wasn't a question.

"As you wish." When Malcolm stood, I had for the door.

"Bring the rest of the photographs with you and we'll take a peek." They shook hands. "Such an infinite pleasure meeting you."

"Our pleasure, Mr. Lyle" Vanessa said.

"Good day. I do assume you know the source of the writing?"

"No." How long was it going to take to to get out this damn door?

"It's from the Egyptian book of the dead." Everything was either dead or about it, so that didn't surprise me.

"Are you sure there's absolutely no other Egyptian scholars in England?" I asked as we walked out into the cold air.

"Ava," Malcolm said roughly, lengthening his stride away from us.

"The man's a scam artist!" I shouted after him but he didn't turn. Vanessa sighed and slipped her arm through mine.

"It's a good thing you're a better one, then."

The storm kept rattling the windows in my room and causing them to fly open. I was trying to read to distract myself from how much I hated the atmosphere the storm caused, but every time the windows opened I had to run to shut them before the rain flooded into my room. Vanessa had gone to bed hours ago. I watched Malcolm get out of his carriage and come inside. I'd been waiting up for him. I couldn't sleep unless he was here. I felt like if I went to sleep Vanessa would need me.

As I watched him walk safely into the house, I shut the windows for what I hoped would be the final time. Stupid broken things. I kept a single gas light on while I slept so that if I woke up, I wouldn't be surrounded in darkness. As I walked towards the bed to climb into it, I heard crying. I froze in the middle of the floor, then practically ran down the hallway to Vanessa's room. With a candle of course because there were no lights. She was fast asleep. I stood in the doorway watched her for a few moments. She wasn't having a nightmare. I went back to my room, telling myself I'd imagined it. Then I heard it again. It was more like gasping, a woman who was very frightened.

"Mina?" I called softly. Then I saw her. She was standing against the door looking like she'd just come in from walking in the rain. She was shaking and her hair was plastered to her head with water. She was wearing the same dress she was the day I last saw her. I walked towards her, not believing what I was seeing. "Oh my God." The window flew open again catching my attention and when I turned back again she was standing right in front of me. Her eyes were red like the vampire's and she let an animal scream. The lamp went out and my scream continued after her's faded.

"Ava?!" There were footsteps coming towards me and the light of a candle. I breathed again as Vanessa ran to me. "Are you alright? Sweetheart, you're shaking, come here." She held me while I shivered against her. "Did the storm blow the lights out?"

"I saw Mina," I said tearfully. I felt her stiffen. "I saw Mina, I saw Mina."

"Where?" I pointed to the doorway.

"But it wasn't Mina, she was a vampire," I sniffed.

"Mina was a vampire?" I nodded. She hugged me again. "It's alright. I'm here now. Nothing's going to hurt you."

"What the devil is going on?" Malcolm was standing in the doorway. "Shut that damn window, it's flooding the carpet."

I watched him take another drink of scotch. This was his third glass. He'd been staring into space for a good fifteen minutes not saying anything.

"Are you sure?" he asked me for the hundredth time. I nodded. "Was it an appeal?"

"I don't know." Vanessa was staring into the fire. She hadn't said anything either. "She looked scared at first. Then she changed."

"If it was Mina, she'd do you no harm," Vanessa told me without moving. "Our nature doesn't change, only our circumstance." She was trying to reassure me, but Malcolm was having none of it.

"You don't know!" She looked at him.

"Don't I? Was I not responsible? But for my transgression, none of this-"

"Ness," I cut her off.

"We cannot unmake the past," Malcolm continued. "We shall live with our guilt, the three of us." My guilt was bigger than there's. I was there when it took her. I let go of her hand. "After all this time... I will find her." He got up to leave, then turned back, looking at me. "I went on a lion hunt many years ago. Moving through the tall glass, getting a glimpse of the prey. The shoulders mostly the mane. You prepare your rifle, you're very quiet, and then there's a moment. The wind changes, the grass stops swaying. The lion turns, looks at you. That moment you realize you are no longer the hunter, you are the prey."

I stayed in the drawing room that night, not wanting to go back to my room. I could have followed Vanessa upstairs, but I knew she wanted to be alone. We all did. I watched the sun come up and shook away all the memories of the person my sister had been. I'd always been closer to her than Vanessa. The two of them had always been together. And I was so much younger than them, I use to have to run to tail along. Vanessa hated it, told me I was ruining their fun, but Mina always included me. She'd help me build sandcastles on the beach. And when I couldn't sleep I'd go to her room and we'd watch sunrises like this together. I wanted to pretend she was there with me now. The real Mina, not the monster. But in my heart I knew that Mina was dead. Malcolm was looking for his daughter, but what he'd find would be something else entirely. He'd never understand that. He'd look for her until the day he died. And I'd help him because I wanted so much to believe there was a way I could save her.