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When they dined together, she would look up at herself, then quickly away. He was far too flattering, she thought, surprised that none of his frequent guests saw fit to agree with her even in private.
    The weeks were pleasant enough that they might have passed quickly. But she'd written Jonathan as soon as she arrived and had still gotten no reply, not even refusal. Each day that passed with such uncertainty seemed longer and sadder than the last.
    She was sitting in the morning sun in the garden drinking coffee when her host joined her carrying a large envelope. He laid it on the table in front of her and pointed to the stamp. "England," he said, then seeing her expression brighten, kissed her on the forehead and left her.
    This wasn't Jonathan's handwriting, she realized, and opened the package more quickly, half convinced that something terrible had happened to him. Inside were two envelopes. One, on watermarked parchment, was in Gance's hand and had a note that said simply. Open me first .
    The letter inside was short, and in Gance's fashion, to the point.
     
    My dearest Mina. If you read this, I did not survive the journey. A trite opening, far too melodramatic and hardly witty, but apt.
    You said that Dracula ordered you to follow your heart. I do the same, but realize how difficult such an order is for a woman without the necessary means to do so.
    Independence is my gift to you.
    I leave you the house in Exeter where we spent too few precious hours, and the money necessary to maintain it and yourself in comfort. I have taken great pains to assure that this money will be yours alone to keep or give away as you see fit. This may make your future secure or far more complicated than you wish it to be. That may well depend on what sort of Victorian you married. But understand that I do this with as close to purity of intent as I can ever hope to achieve. G.
     
    The second, thicker, packet was addressed to Mrs. Jonathan Harker. Inside was a bank draft for a hundred pounds and a letter requesting her presence in London for a private reading of the will. It concluded with. Should you wish to stay in London, we will of course be able to make arrangements wherever you wish .
    They must have gotten her address from Jonathan, she thought. They must also have told him something about why they needed it. She realized with dismay how complicated Gance had made her life… and how free.

Two
    In the end it was fear that drove Joanna Tepes away from Castle Dracula.
    For days after that woman and Van Helsing had gone, carrying the younger man's body wrapped in one of the upper chambers' rotting rugs, Joanna had hidden in the depths of the castle, in one of the maze of rooms where her brother had kept his slaves, his captives, and later his food. She barely slept, and lived as best she could on the rats, sucking their little bodies dry before flinging them away, furious at her own timidity.
    Wasn't she also a Tepes? Shouldn't she be taking whom she wished, striking fear in the hearts of the lesser creatures in the villages nearby? She wanted to—it was her nature to do so, after all—but she had no experience at it. Her brother had hunted for the women, and when he was absent, Illona had done so. She and Karina had been nothing more than pampered pets, kept because they amused the lord and lady of the castle, each in her own way. Karina with her beauty. Herself, because she was so easy to torment.
    For Joanna, it was a bitter understanding, made all the worse because for the first time in centuries she was utterly alone.
    Weeks passed. One afternoon she heard the distant creak of cart wheels, the muffled sounds of familiar laughter, the tinkling of little bells. The Gypsies had returned.
    From the dark chamber in which she slept, she heard the gates of the castle swing open, the click of hooves on the ancient courtyard stones. She waited joyously for night so that she could go to them and speak to them as she had so many times