But Arthur had dug in his heels, butting heads with Bram to the point they’d come to blows. The next Bram knew, five years had passed, and he’d found himself on the receiving end of devastating news.
Arthur had been killed and the necromancer was thought to be behind it all.
He didn’t want that fate for Seward. He didn’t want to get a phone call alerting him that his friend was no more. That any chances to make amends were gone.
Once had been enough.
He didn’t need it to happen again.
Clearing his throat, Bram squared his shoulders and looked at his friend. “I’ll reach out to Seward. But for now, Harker, I think it’s best you make a call to the others back in Grimm Cove. Speak with Elis. Make sure he knows to have the men be on the lookout for anything strange or out of the ordinary,” said Bram, wanting to avoid more talk of his daughter.
“You do realize that everything about Grimm Cove is strange and unusual,” said Harker with a forced smile.
Bram couldn’t help but chuckle. “True. But above the norm.”
“Can do,” said Harker before stepping away to make the call.
Instantly, the smell of blood filled Bram’s head once more, making his demon rock violently within him. The demon wanted to be fed and was done with being pushed aside. It wanted to revel in the surrounding carnage. Too much time had passed since it had been allowed to do as it pleased—to wreak as much havoc as it could. Too many years since Bram had learned to control it enough to keep it from killing others.
It wanted a piece of the freedom Dragos had clearly been gifted.
But there was no way Bram would permit that to be. He’d not spent the greater part of his life learning to lock the darkness down, only to grant it unlimited access to the general public.
No.
That couldn’t ever happen again.
The one time it had—when he’d been newly sired and at the demon’s mercy—it had committed unspeakable acts of violence. And it had left a trail of dead bodies in its wake. It was an act that haunted him to this very day.
One for which he’d never be able to seek absolution because the act was unforgivable.
Harker returned with more of their men and pulled Bram aside.
From the look on his face, he hadn’t come bearing good news.
“What is it?” asked Bram.
“Two things,” said Harker. “The New York team called in. Looks like The Ripper struck there overnight. Not far from Dana’s place.”
Bram and his demon went on high alert.
Harker lifted a hand. “She’s totally fine. That was the first thing I asked. They said she’s at her place and one of her friends is with her for the weekend.”
Instantly, Bram’s thoughts filled with fragments from his dreams. Of the blonde woman he continued to see in his sleep. The one who filled his nights with sex and passion but left him waking in a panic that something had happened to her.
“Bram?” asked Harker, pulling Bram from his thoughts. “You there mentally or are you having an internal argument with your demon—again?”
“I am here,” responded Bram, locking gazes with his friend. He wasn’t sure why he’d thought of the dreams at a time like this. “You said there were two things you needed to tell me. What is the other?”
Harker sighed. “Michael found something when he was getting more photos of the area.”
“What?”
“Bram, I need you to stay calm when I show you this,” said Harker.
He nodded.
Reluctantly, Harker led Bram back in the direction he’d only just come from. They entered the wooded area and walked about thirty feet until they came to a stop at a rather large pine.
First, Harker motioned to the ground, before planting himself in front of a tree, obscuring Bram’s view of it. There, in the blood, were shoe prints. Their owner had large feet. Not as large as Bram’s, but considering just how tall Bram was, that wasn’t a surprise. What did shock Bram was that he recognized the sole imprint.
“I have a pair of cap-toe oxford shoes with soles similar to that,” stated Bram.
Harker cleared his throat. “I’m not surprised. We did establish you’re something of a shoe whore. But they’re not from any of our people. We think they’re from one of the people responsible for this mess.”
Unsure how he felt about sharing the same tastes in fashion as someone from The Order, Bram shook his head. “Are those what you wanted me to see? The shoe prints? Why would I be upset by them?”
“No. Those aren’t why I brought you over. That is.” Harker stepped out of the way of the tree and then pointed to it.
Bram wasn’t sure what was so important about a tree, but he looked all the same. There, pinned to the pine tree with a ceremonial dagger was an old photo of three young women.
One of the young women was his daughter—Dana Van Helsing.
The photo was from when she was in college, some twenty years prior. It had been taken at Yale, outside of the building she’d resided in, by one of the various people he’d employed over the years to watch her from afar. All too often Bram would have to be away for slayer-related duties, and he’d not wanted to miss out on seeing her grow up.
But she’d never known that.
This picture was one he had in a picture book in his top desk drawer back at his main home in Grimm Cove, South Carolina. In it, Dana was sitting on the grass, on a blanket with a dark-haired girl next to her. The two young women were laughing as a blonde woman stood before them, her back to the camera, her arms out wide.
Had Bram not been acutely aware of the year in which the picture had been taken, he might have assumed it was from the sixties, with the manner of the blonde woman’s style of dress.
She looked like a free spirit—a hippie flower child in her long flowing skirt and loose shirt. A purple scarf was wrapped around her midriff and a multitude of bracelets covered both her arms from her wrists to her elbows. She had a pink heart painted on her upper arm, as well as a peace sign, of all things.
She’d been one of Dana’s college roommates and was still close to her to this day.
Marcy Dotter.
She was a vivacious woman who seemed to live life to its fullest, at least from the information his men brought back whenever they were shadowing Dana.
Bram had found it difficult to visit Dana during that timeframe because of a number of work-related matters that had been going on, so he’d insisted on photographs and daily updates from those he assigned to the area. It was the only reason he recognized the other two women with his daughter.
In the photo, there was a red circle drawn around Marcy with an “X” on it.
Seeing it there, over her, shook Bram to his core, but he didn’t understand why. Maybe it was because she was so important to his daughter.
Harker touched his shoulder. “You okay? I don’t need to call others to help restrain you, do I? Your demon is still behaving, right?”
Bram continued to stare at the photo.
“The fact you’re not answering is worrisome,” said Harker.
“I am fine.” It wasn’t the truth, but it was all Harker was going to get from him right now.
His friend yanked the dagger from the photo and then handed the picture to Bram. “Why did they only circle the blonde one? The other is Dana when she was younger, right? Is that when she was at university?”