Page 5 of The Doctor and the Devil
“She means to makethe change,and I don’t think I can stop her.”
“She intends to infect herself with the blood plague?” I asked.
He nodded. “We have struggled, of course, but I am hopeful that my prayers will soon be answered. This season might be better. Jacqueline says she cannot wait and that she will starve before spring’s first sprouts. I think she would hold out longer, if she could. I fear her wavering faith in God has already damned her.”
I frowned. “What is it you need from me, Pierre?”
“Could you speak with her? Convince her that with all the horrors you’ve seen, that becoming a vampire is not the answer? If I sent her ‘round to your clinic tomorrow, you would see her, wouldn’t you?” The pleading in Pierre’s tone bothered me, even though it was a story I’d heard a hundred times before.
“If it is her soul you worry after, perhaps it is a priest you should seek counsel from,” I replied.
“I’ve already tried that. She will not go. Please, Doctor,” he said.
I sighed. “Why would she listen to me, if not her own husband?”
“You know more about vampires than anyone. You help people. You’re a woman of the church,” he urged, leaning forward over the table.
I balked. “A woman of the church?”
“Yes,” he said slowly, blinking in confusion. “The acts of charity, the way you help people even when they cannot pay.”
“That doesn’t make me a woman of the church,” I chuckled darkly. “Far from it.”
His face fell and he leaned back. Motivated by regret and empathy, I reached for his hand.
“Send your wife,” I said softly. “Tomorrow. I will talk to her. But I will only be honest with her, and you must accept that if her mind is set, there won’t be anything I can do.”
Grateful, he clasped my hands. “Thank you, Doctor Van Helsing. God bless you for trying to save her. There is nothing worse than eternal damnation.”
Reflecting on the horrors of my life that had fractured my own relationship with the divine, I frowned.
“Yes,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. “There is.”
2
RAFAEL
April 13, 1768
Van Helsing’s Clinic, Rue Ordener
“Doyou think anyone in the Order would mind if we just broke in and had a little taste?” asked the first man.
The second man chuckled. “I tell you, with a lady like that, I’d want more than a little taste. That damn doctor is a whole fucking meal.”
The first man laughed himself into a coughing fit, then spit a wad of phlegm onto the street.
“Did they tell you what we were watching for? Or are we just supposed to sit here all night freezing our balls off, waiting for some filthysanguisugeto show up and hex her into making the beast with two backs?”
“Dieu,I could do with a bit of that kind of magic, eh? Simply knock on that door, call upon the devil, and entice her to lift her skirts for me,” the first man continued.
This time, the second man smacked the first upside his head, sending the fool into another coughing fit.
“That’s enough, Pascal,” the second man said. “Merde,anyone would think you were a young lad who’d never bedded a woman before. We’re to watch the lady physician and notify the Order if any curious-looking vampires are lurking about. Not those newly turned ones, but one that looksdifferent, remember? And if we happen to overhear anything that might be consideredtreasonousto His Majesty or to the Order or to us humans, we’re to let them know, as well.”
“Right, right. That masked man—Derais—was clear enough on that point. Crazy old sod,” the man called Pascal replied. “You know, Hubert, the Order gives me the creeps, and I’m tired and cold. What if we just knock off and get a quick drink? I’d be much more alert with a bit of wine in my blood.”
“Focus, man! These bloodsuckers are crafty, and if you’re not paying attention, one will slip by you before you can blink,” Hubert warned.
