Nature or Nurture Ch. 65-67

Standing in the spotlight of a beautiful copper lamp, he's an actor after all, no need to be shy, Vincent invites his friend, enemy, whatever, in his arms to transfer some of his power to where it is needed very badly.

Pathos gone, eagerly indeed, Mr Grey falls into his arms, and Vincent tries to see whether this is enough intimacy to transfer the energy. It worked last time, but this time he checks with sight, and he can see power flowing from himself to Mr Grey, something is reaching out for it, Vincent need not do anything to let it happen.

After five minutes, Mr Grey rights himself and says, 'All right, though I'd like to stay in your arms forever, we have a job to do, I feel much better, I'm ready to face my fate.'

He is kind of brave right now, and Vincent holds on to his hand to help him load some more power, according to Melissa he will never run out, so he can be free with it.

'Do you need to get a weapon, Mr Grey?'

'Will you please call me Dorian, Vincent? You're giving me power to live even now, how can you expect me to accept life with such formality? I'm meeting my end today, Vincent, and I have made my peace with that, but still it's hard.'

'All right, Dorian, I'll try.'

And that is all Mr Grey is going to get.

Still holding on to Vincent's hand, Mr Grey rummages in a drawer and comes up with a beautiful weapon, much like Sir Malcolm's repeating gun.

'I thought I might try to empty this on the Master, see how that affects him.'

He stows it in pocket of his trousers, the butt sticking out rather conspicuously.

In the hall Mr Grey dons a coat, and he calls the gorgeous maid.

'I'm going out, if I do not return please contact my lawyer.'

She doesn't show shock or fear, but merely replies, 'Yes, Mr Grey.'

Then they go back to the cabs, and Mr Grey climbs in the one Vincent shares with Adison and Father Nicholas.

Chapter 66

As they arrive at their destination, they cannot see any of their friends, which is of course exactly what they planned. Vincent tries to keep a subtle eye out for witch-hunters, but there aren't that many people about at all, of course it is the dead of night and this is a living area and a classy one at that.

Soon he starts to recognize individual houses, and all too soon they reach the Master's house.

Father Nicholas requests, 'Do you mind if I take the lead? I have certain formal questions I need to ask before I may act. After that you can ask anything you like, of course.'

And without any hesitation, he uses the door-knocker.

The door is opened by a veritable Hercules, a handsome, impossibly strong-looking man in his prime, dressed only in a loincloth. He looks like a statue from the wax-museum, there is as much life in him as in one of those, except this man does apparently move on his own initiative.

But that is the only proof he is actually alive, his eyes are dead and cold as marbles, and he does not talk. He merely moves off, and it is clear that they are supposed to follow.

Father Nicholas is shocked, he does follow but he looks at the fellow as if he wants to do something to help him.

Meanwhile, Vincent is distracted from the action because he is assaulted by memories. Not his own of course, Heathcliff's, of walking through this very hall, following a servant, a more lively one, a handsome young man but slender and very intelligent.

The décor of the hall hasn't changed much, it's still rather bland, with a white marble floor and wood panelling on the walls, painted white. No ornaments, no fabrics anywhere, just the usual gas lamps that the rich use.

Forcing his attention back to the current situation, he checks his companions and cannot discern a single weapon out in plain sight.

Adison is right behind him, and Bosie in front of him, alert but not nervous or afraid. Mr Grey hangs back a little, but is kept part of the group by Victor and Mina guarding the rear. His friends are the same as Adison and Bosie, alert but not afraid, and Mr Grey looks better than he did at his own home, less tired, though not younger.

He does seem a bit apprehensive, but he has the most reason to fear the Master, and he expects to meet his fate today, the best possible reason to show some fear.

The servant takes them to a familiar door, the one that leads to the Master's sitting-room, a much more opulent room, large, and always very stylish. There used to be priceless Persian rugs on the hardwood floor, the chairs were made of black mahogany, throne-like affairs with crushed velvet seats in royal blue. There was a cabinet, also made of mahogany and inlaid with contrasting hardwoods and nacre.

One wall was covered in an ancient tapestry, a depiction of some momentous battle in still-brilliant colours, the figures of knights and kings strangely primitive, almost naïve. How often Heathcliff had stared at that tapestry with a glass of fine dark wine in his hand, trying to imagine what that real battlefield had been like, people and horses clashing, the screaming and the dying, the heroic deeds done.

As these memories flash through his mind, they enter the room and very little has changed, the magnificent chair the Master used to occupy has been covered in black velvet instead of the blue that used to match the other seats.

And the man sitting in the chair, still upright, has aged beyond the number of years that has passed. It cannot be more than two years since Heathcliff met the Master here, eyeing Mr Grey over the rim of a glass of what Bosie guessed must have been Madeira wine, and that was a few months before he was killed.

But the Master has aged at least twenty years, and more likely thirty, he is looking positively ancient, the lined face almost as white as Vincent's own, blue veins drawn out against the parchment-like skin covering his facial bones without a noticeable amount of fat or muscle in between.

How can someone age so quickly in so few years? No wonder Mr Grey said time is running out for him, no wonder Father Nicholas thinks they can handle this vulnerable old man with this small party. The Master looks as if he might break spontaneously.

'My dear Heathcliff, it has been such a long time! I suppose I have failed a bit, you look positively disconcerted at beholding the changes in me.'

His voice hasn't changed at all, still the same velvet tones, powerful but not forceful.

Vincent doesn't deign to answer, he is no longer Heathcliff, the Master seems to have forgotten he had his dear servant Heathcliff killed. And Father Nicholas requested to be the first of their party to speak.

Which he does, and despite the profusion of rich fabrics in the room, his voice has a certain ring to it, a much grander sound than Vincent has ever heard Father Nicholas utter, be it as Heathcliff or as himself.

'Charles Quesnet, the Council for Liturgical Purity of Her Majesty's Anglican Church has found proof of your involvement in the practise of magic, and your life and possessions are therefore forfeit. You are to give yourself up to the authority of the Church.'

That is a bit of a surprise to the rest of the party, had they known this was official church business, Father Nicholas could have brought official church personnel to arrest the Master. And how did they find out his name, who is Charles Quesnet?

Father Nicholas now addresses the servant who has led them inside, and another, very similar looking man who was already present in the room, this one resembling none so much as Samson, the biblical hero with the long hair.

Also a strapping fellow in his prime, also dressed in little more than a loin-cloth. His eyes show as little life as Hercules'.

'If you surrender to the Church, I can safely promise you that the inevitable fate of your master need not be yours. As yet there is no proof that you have committed acts of a criminal nature or of magic.'

Well, so much for leaving an opening for negotiations, they're not going to get out of here without conflict, they might as well have carried their weapons openly.

Suddenly Vincent remembers that the Master used to dismiss his servants as soon as his visitors were before him, he must have felt the danger to his person with the entrance of Father Nicholas.

But the Master's next words belie him feeling any fear at all, the old man merely laughs, a deep, merry sound.

'Dear Father whatever your name is, I suppose as servant of the church you don't mind being anonymous, you are wasting your time trying to convince my servants of anything. Hercules and Samson have no personality left to speak of. Since my health started to fail so abysmally I have spent some time perfecting the process of possession, and these two prime specimens of manhood are the culmination of my art.

They are the perfect servants, they cannot speak, they have no original thought, and they obey me to the letter.

Oh, and they are supernaturally strong and feel no pain, nor do they age.'

The Master is waxing positively eloquent now, and he looks at Mr Grey, shaking his head with pity. 'Dorian, you look wretched, maybe you are wondering why you have been ageing so fast ever since you stopped raping young people? Better sit down, you may need a little support to hear the truth.'

As he says this, Dorian's expression turns from apprehensive to positively pained.

'You've been a good servant to me, Dorian, you've brought the person I have longed to see for months, though I didn't ask for the priest. Now sit down!'

Poor Mr Grey cannot seem to refuse him and obediently sits down on the chair his master points out.

'Good boy, Dorian. Though you don't look like a boy anymore, nor so handsome.

Still, you are as we speak feeding my servants the power they need to stay young and strong. You probably thought your own sorry existence was so precious it took all the energy you stole from young people all over London, but in fact most of it went to my own projects.

Fortunately they profit first, seems like you've been smuggling more than once for my servants have received a rather strong donation just half an hour ago.'

That is not what Vincent wanted to hear, of course he can spare as much power as he likes, but it was meant to go to Mr Grey, not to these poor thugs. Still, they cannot help what was done to them, they are victims of the Master, too.

It is highly unlikely they can be saved, they'll probably be killed as soon as the fighting starts, which will be sooner rather than later. If the Master, a man named Charles Quesnet if Father Nicholas' research department is worth anything, will ever stop talking.

'So Father, you may try to save these men from my evil influence, but I'm afraid you'll find them beyond help. I've two more, a person in my condition cannot be too careful, until I've moved to a strong, new body I need to take very good care of myself, It won't do to have a wilful servant murder me in my sleep after all.'

Father Nicholas is obviously disgusted by the idea that a man can be possessed so totally that he cannot be freed anymore, Vincent really wonders how much the Father truly knows of magic. He told Vincent that the Master didn't have a talent, but obviously the old man is lying, or the Father has been deceived.

Either is possible, but since Father Nicholas didn't know of the existence of blood-magic, and they were not going to enlighten him, the latter is most likely.

Victor, Mina, Adison and Lord Douglas are still alert, but calm. Adison is checking out Samson surreptitiously, as Father Nicholas lights up in the visible range, wait a second! Father Nicholas is using magic, and not just a little bit! Switching to sight, Vincent can see the tall clergyman use profuse magic on Hercules, but he can see nothing happening.

'It's no use, Father, there is nothing left of his personality. I thought I had that process perfected when I prepared my dearest Heathcliff for the ultimate honour, to become my new host, but I must have been mistaken for he still knows you, and he obviously knows me.

I have no clue what went wrong, I suppose his little missus knows more about that. Even now she's eyeing Samson, thinking she can do better than you.

But you do understand, dear Father, that I cannot accept judgement for practising magic from a Father who scorns his own sworn laws. Your use of magic in my own home allows me to do the same. I will not submit to your so-called justice, you may kill this body and possess this house and all that is in it, after I have taken what was meant to be mine, to start my new life.'

'My dear boy,' the Master addresses Vincent now, and he cannot but feel the power in that velvet voice, the voice that used to rule his very being.

'I'm sorry to see you're not as handsome, nor as spirited as you were, but of course I should have taken better care of you. I've allowed you to fall into the hands of my opposite, the hands of order, but I'll make do.

She will make me a nice little wife, to take care of my talented daughter and my even more talented son. And who knows, maybe one of them will finally be the vessel that gives me the eternal life that I deserve.'

Vincent cannot but conclude that all old people do indeed talk in riddles, and that evil people sure like to hear themselves talk, when suddenly the Master flings a bright thing at him and he cannot move a limb anymore. From the corner of his eye he can see a similar light fill the room, and Mina crashes as if struck dead.

In the deafening silence that follows, Adison can't choose between Mina and himself, and throws herself on Mina to see what is wrong with her. Victor looks as if he's frozen like himself, as is Bosie.

Father Nicholas is very much himself, and proclaims, 'I have this place surrounded, Mr Quesnet, you will not go anywhere.'

'You still don't get it, do you, Father? This body is not going anywhere, and I'm going home with Mrs Heathcliff. We'll fetch our cute daughter and live happily ever after with our infant son to complete our little family. Of course I'm not much of an actor, but I'll resign graciously and retire on the money you will not find in this house.'

As Father Nicholas looks around to the others, the Master replies ever so friendly, 'I'm afraid none of them are any good to help. I've figured out how to disable a vampire years ago, I hoped being turned would make me immortal but it's so damned inconvenient to become a raging animal out for blood and nothing more. Well, maybe a little suffering.

I wonder who managed to turn Mina back into a thinking human, that might have worked. But as I said, they're vulnerable to a certain magic strike somehow, and anyway, staying inside all day is a damned nuisance.

Mr Grey cannot do a thing against me, and he never was much good for anything anyway, he's just some kind of pretty bauble that one can look at and enjoy in many other ways, but that gets tiresome after a few years.

And those two handsome males are stuck in my simplest holding spell, never to get out again. We'll stay friends of course, for ever and ever, I'll need guards in my new life, too.

Will you just look at my missus? She's busy now, but she may try to harm me later, I'll have Samson handle that.'

And he claps his hands, once, after which Samson starts to move in Adison's direction.

'That will take care of her, so I guess there's just you, and deciding what to do with you can wait until I've finally taken possession of my rightful body. To be young again, and strong! Beauty is overrated, strength and purpose are what counts.'

As Adison sees Mina drop like a stone, and Vincent freeze at the same time, she knows they are in trouble. Mina looks worse, this looks just like what Mrs Poole did to her, and Adison knows how to cure that.

But first she needs to call for help, this Mr Quesnet knows more magic than any of them realized, and wherever he gets his power, he seems to have plenty of it. Every reason to call in the cavalry. Though maybe Mina can be of some help once Adison has her back on her feet, it will give her away to Father Nicholas, but he has shown his true colours minutes before, the true reason no doubt he wanted to do this without his own people: he planned to use real magic himself!

Taking her friend's hand, Adison takes the risk of looking at her with sight, and she immediately spots the problem: her connections to the ley-line have been severed, and she is suffering from acute lack of power.

It will eventually kill her, but Adison knows what to do. What Mina really needs is a shot of Vincent's blood, but since Adison needs her conscious and preferably able to fight to free Vincent, she does the same as last time, will the power back into her friend. And it works once more, but the price is high.

When she gets up, she sees spots in front of her eyes, and a headache is setting in. And when Samson reaches for her and takes her in a holding grip, there is nothing she can do about it, not even take her gun and shoot him, he is too close, and she is too weak.

Just as she prepares to call on Lukas for help, Father Nicholas announces the place is surrounded by his people. Great, just what they needed, now she cannot risk their friends outside unless things are getting really out of hand.

Better see what happens, this Master guy may be all talk and no real power, apparently this is all a ploy to take over Vincent's body, and the creature did assure them he would never allow Vincent to be possessed again.

And indeed she learns a lot from the Master's rambling, first of all, that putting Mina out of action is a trick they have learned without truly knowing what is going on. If all his magic is based on instinct and trial and error instead of science, there must be a weakness in it somewhere.

The Master is now preparing some magic, and he wants all of them to see it. It demands a lot of his attention, and he cannot see Mr Grey fighting to get free of the compulsion laid on him, nor Mina stirring and crawling towards Victor, hand on her side.

The wards! If Mina sends for help, Adison can only hope their friends are careful getting into the house, leaving no alert witch-hunters on their trail.

In the knowledge that most of the total magic potential of the city is most likely on its way in, Adison doesn't quite relax in Samson's arms, her head is aching and she's still a bit dizzy, but she is not unduly worried either.

Is Mr Quesnet trying to possess Vincent again? How can he imagine that he will ever succeed? Vincent looks helpless, of course he has no way to resist the Master's magic, but the creature will never again allow him to be possessed, he is probably waiting for the right time to strike. Imagining the old man flung about gives a certain satisfaction, but Mr Quesnet is now starting to raise quite a lot of power, and Adison is starting to get vaguely worried. What if the creature underestimated him?

With sullen red power filling the room, Mr Quesnet approaches Vincent almost lovingly. Does he think Vincent will welcome his filthy presence?

Well, he seems to accept the disgusting old man near him at any rate, he lets himself be embraced, oh that is gross, Mr Quesnet is going to kiss her husband, undoubtedly to possess him again, why cannot Adison take this seriously? Because he also hinted that he'd live happily ever after with herself, Catherine, and... as if!

No-one is going to possess her husband, not if it kills her!

But before she can reverse the healing magic she has only just begun to learn on Samson, to get free to stop the Master from putting his filthy mouth on her beloved, if necessary at the cost of the mindless guard's life, the still shape of Lord Douglas springs to life, draws his weapon and forcefully interposes himself between Vincent and his attacker.

'Stand back, mister. I don't know what you are planning, and how you are keeping him so still, but if Mr Heathcliff is going to kiss any man, it's going to be consensual, and preferably me.