Anna was handed what remained of the lock’s body and saw the individual finger imprints that deformed the brass. She tried to do the same, to dig in, but despite the existing damage nothing changed.
“How?” Anna asked.
“Girl power,” Evelyn said with a giggle.#AmEditing pic.twitter.com/UF4pcefVra— Evelyn Chartres (@EvelynChartres) December 13, 2020
Disclaimer: This excerpt is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
https://twitter.com/EvelynChartres/status/1338208030987591682?s=20
Disclaimer: This excerpt is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
…this led her to wonder if she was eating some sort of extinct animal.
“So, what are these?” Anna asked.
“Rations,” Evelyn said. “Prepared long ago and stored for situations like these.”
“How lo—” Anna asked.
“You don’t want to know, ma chère,” Evelyn replied.#AmEditing pic.twitter.com/4qZGiRF7IN— Evelyn Chartres (@EvelynChartres) December 13, 2020
Disclaimer: This excerpt is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
“Why… dark…”
Those words left Anna drained, and the reality of which surprised her. Then again, after that level of exertion, followed by a nasty fall, one had to expect a price to be paid. — So why am I so numb?
“It’s night. It comes early this time of year.”#AmEditing pic.twitter.com/IXPkzZZa8b— Evelyn Chartres (@EvelynChartres) December 13, 2020
Disclaimer: This excerpt is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
This scene reminded Anna of being submerged in deep water, where phosphorescent light did not reach. Before excitement took root, she realised that her lungs were still taking in air, which precluded any chance of being underwater.
‘Aww fuck.’ #AmEditing #WritingCommunity pic.twitter.com/NeIgzfLWA1
— Evelyn Chartres (@EvelynChartres) December 13, 2020
Disclaimer: This excerpt is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
Elizabeth walked up the three flights of stairs leading to her unit. She was dog tired, so much so, that her bones ached with every step. The pace of work mixed with that chaos filled weekend did a lot to wear her down.
“If there was ever a way of reminding me that I am no longer twenty-one,” Elizabeth mumbled.
Once at her door, she reached into her pockets and froze. On the other side, she heard clanging, footsteps, and other unusual sounds. It was not until Clara’s humming filtered through the door that she began to calm down.
Elizabeth exhaled, pulled out her keys, and let herself in. Immediately, she was greeted by a whole slew of smells. Some were more distinct, like seared scallops, sautéed mushrooms, onions and garlic. Others were more subtle in comparison, such as the white wine, steamed fresh peas, and melted butter.
Clara was at the kitchen counter, busy cooking up a storm. She wore an apron, although Elizabeth could not fathom where that item originated from. Clara faced a myriad of pots and pans, some that bubbled while others crackled with the sounds of frying food. Each was the source of these aromas, which magically invigorated her senses.
Of course, it was the fridge that got her attention, the old one from this morning was gone. In its place was a significant upgrade. Clearly, Clara had not been idle during her absence.
“Hello,” Clara said while looking up. “Help yourself to some wine.”
“How did you—,” Elizabeth said.
“It’s a bit complicated,” Clara said. “Let’s just say that I looked into someone’s soul and found an ally.”
Clara continued to cook while Elizabeth approached the counter. The bottle was old. It even sported a wax seal that had been cast aside when opened. When she looked at the label and saw the date, her eyes bulged, and she dropped the bottle.
Before Elizabeth could gasp, Clara caught the bottle. She smirked, placed it gently on the counter and returned to her cooking.
“Nineteen-twenty-one?” Elizabeth spat out.
“That was a great year… a lot of memories,” Clara said. “That wine is almost as old as me.”
Elizabeth sat down and chuckled nervously. One moment, all hell breaks loose, and now, she comes home to find a thousand dollar bottle of wine? This was a bit much for her to take in. Still, why worry over things that were outside of her control?
She poured herself a glass until it nearly overflowed and took a sip.
“Wow! Some things do get better with age,” Elizabeth said.
“You know, when I was growing up, seafood like this marked us as being poor. Those with money and status did not come to school with seafood or, god forbid, lobster,” Clara said. “Now this was the most expensive item that I could find at the store. Well, apart from the wine.”
For a moment, Clara appeared to be daydreaming, back in a world where monsters did not exist. Elizabeth wondered how precious such memories were for those who had been through so much.
“You can sit down,” Clara said. “Supper will be ready soon enough.”
“Why are you doing this?” Elizabeth asked, unable to play along.
Clara kept on smiling while she turned over the lightly seared scallops. Clearly, she was applying the finishing touches for this meal, and it looked like it would be mouth-watering.
“You were right earlier,” Clara said. “Honestly, I was relieved that you brought it up. Still, tonight I learned that the soul could be redeemed, and that gave me hope. It also reminded me that I have much to learn.”
So far, Elizabeth had no trouble following along, but was unsure if the soul comment was literal or figurative. She assumed this had something to do with her Firecracker, and that was probably the reason they were home safe tonight.
“For now, I’ll need a place to crash, spread my wings, and find my way,” Clara added while she poured the mushrooms and scallops into a serving bowl.
“I did say you were—,” Elizabeth said.
Clara cut her off on purpose, a reversal that turned out to be enjoyable. She carried the scallops to the table, then returned to drain the potatoes.
“What we have might end up being nothing more than a fling spurred on by events outside our control,” Clara said. “It may be nothing more than our baser interests at play. So I don’t want to push that just yet. We both need to come to terms with what happened and figure out how to move forward.”
Clara had a point, although Elizabeth wondered how easy it would be to avoid those awkward moments.
“Or was that half the fun?” Elizabeth wondered.
Clara mixed in butter, spices, and milk to mash the potatoes. While preparing the dish, she looked up.
“At the very least, we need each other. I need you to help me traverse this alien land. Without you, I’ll end up getting lost,” Clara said.
“What do you think I need?” Elizabeth asked.
Clara finished mashing the potatoes before answering, “You need me to watch over you for the next little while. A task I’ll gladly take on so you can sleep soundly knowing that no one will fuck with you.”
Elizabeth cocked a brow. A small part of her had yet to realise that fear was real. Would anyone be able to sleep once they knew that vampires did, in fact, exist?
Clara dropped the potatoes at the table, followed by steamed peas. She then walked over to Elizabeth and looked up into her eyes.
“Just to be clear,” Clara said. “If you ever kiss me like that again. You’d better be prepared to go all the way. Understood?”
“Got it,” Elizabeth said with a gulp.
“Great,” Clara said with a wide smile before pulling out Elizabeth’s chair. “Time to eat! You can give me an answer when we are done.”
“You already know,” Elizabeth said while sitting down.
Clara chuckled and said, “I only hoped. Oh! Before I forget. Do you know what cryptocurrency is?”
Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!
It is my pleasure to introduce The Van Helsing Incursion, the third installment of the Clara Grey Adventures, a Dark Fantasy series about a hunter who hunts things that go bump in the night! This is my fourth release in as many years, and while part of a series, I consider this book to stand on its own.
After a lifetime of hunting creatures that haunt our dreams, a flapper, turned fallen angel, gives a budding relationship the chance to grow. Should be a snap? Think again!
Interested? Check out details on my book below:
During the Roaring Twenties, Clara Grey hunted things that went bump in the night. On her final mission, she paid the ultimate price to rid the world of a powerful foe. As a reward, she ascended to Heaven and joined its ranks as an angel.
Hunting things that go bump in the night is child’s play when compared to juggling relationships.
Ninety years after her death, Clara fell to Earth intent on saving a soul. While her mission was a success, an act of self-defence barred her from returning to Heaven. Lost in the modern world, Clara was forced to seek out unlikely allies to navigate through those uncertain times.
Four months later, Clara has settled in with Elizabeth, a young woman she saved shortly after descending to Earth. For a gal who had sworn off anything that hinted at normalcy, she learns that being average is not as easy as it seems.
Alas, repercussions from choices made on that fateful mission have not been idle. Her enemies trigger a chain of events that will force our fated femme fatale to act. Is Clara prepared to deal with the fallout? Will her allies come to her aid? Or must she stand on her own?
Before reading on, be sure to consider: Hunting things that go bump in the night is child’s play when compared to juggling relationships.
The Van Helsing Incursion is also available in print on Amazon.com.
Clara looked out over the restaurant from the comfort of her booth. Once she was satisfied there was no immediate threat, she looked down at a newspaper to pass the time. She was in awe of the number of ads, colour, and scores of anorexic articles that had a sensationalist bent. It appeared that not everything improved with age, and newspapers were a prime example.
Clara heard the waiter approach, his footsteps muffled by the carpet, and without a glance, knew who this was. As expected, the man left a drink at her table, all without being prompted.
“Compliments of the lady at the bar,” the waiter said before walking away.
Clara looked at the drink, then up at the woman and was astounded by what she saw. There she sat in a form fitting black dress that hugged her body and left little to the imagination. Her left leg was bare, exposed by a slit, and even in this dull light, her silky gams glimmered.
Clara smirked, since this was playing out exactly as it had the first time they met. The venue may have been different, but all of the key details were present.
Sensing her part in this affair, Clara raised her glass in the air so they might toast one another in silence. While each sipped her drink, they kept their eyes locked on one another. Evelyn loved to be the centre of attention, and for now, it suited Clara to play along.
Just like before, she felt a breeze, and with that, Evelyn appeared on the bench across from her. That woman knew how to wield smiles like a scalpel. She could chill the mood at an orgy to show her displeasure or hint at the lifetime of passion only she could offer. All that was needed was to give oneself willingly to her, and Clara was pretty sure people frequently made that choice.
“You’re in a good mood,” Clara said while catching a glimpse of the woman’s soul.
The last time Clara had seen Evelyn, her soul had been in an advanced state of decay, torn asunder through centuries of abuse, the soul one associated with a mass murder, a paedophile, or a tyrannical dictator. Now, it was clear that something had changed. While there was still decay, the soul was whole. This was Clara’s first glimpse at how pivotal a singular act of redemption could be.
Evelyn sidestepped the comment and said, “I wanted to thank you.”
“You did?” Clara questioned.
Evelyn nodded, as plates of food arrived at the table. Clara noticed that Evelyn’s companion was pretty relaxed considering he had been run over by her truck a couple of nights ago.
Evelyn looked at the plethora of food options and selected something that looked like baked camembert. She dipped some toasted bread into the cheese and brought it to her mouth. As a matter of course, she seductively licked the cheese from her piece before taking a bite.
“Relax,” Evelyn said. “Marc holds no ill will towards you. That would require emotions which may cloud his judgement, and I’ve never known him to have any.”
She looked up and smiled at Marc who did not return the gesture. Instead he bowed away and headed towards the kitchen.
“Nevertheless,” Evelyn added. “He is here to make sure you play nice.”
Clara mulled over those words. Their kind could not easily engage her now. Her speed and strength equalled their own. Besides, coming into direct contact with her was the equivalent of sunbathing at high noon. The only way Clara could be reined in is if they took extraordinary precautions.
“Explosives?” Clara asked.
Evelyn giggled and nodded, “Great minds, non? Marc tells me it’s a shaped charge focused on you. I may get caught up in the blast, but I’ll heal.”
“Fair enough,” Clara said. “I’d have done the same.”
Evelyn picked up another piece of bread and dipped it into the cheese. Clara looked around and settled on a bowl of French onion soup. She moved it towards herself, grabbed the oversized spoon, and broke through the baked cheese crust to reach the broth. The smell alone was enough to make her stomach growl.
“There were three,” Evelyn said after another bite.
Clara looked up, swallowed a spoonful of broth, and asked, “Georgians? In the city?”
Evelyn nodded. The slight droop in her smile hinted there had been complications. Clara did not want to delve into the matter unless it was brought up. However, the use of past tense meant those three were dead, which was good news.
“You were right. They were responsible for this mess,” Evelyn said while spreading pâté on a piece of fresh bread.
“Did you find out why?” Clara asked before she scooped up a chunk of cheese and bread.
“Playing the odds,” Evelyn said. “They wanted to trigger a war which would bring about the end of our kind, all in some attempt to alter the balance of power in their favour and simplify colonisation.”
“The Tower never really knew what they were,” Clara said.
“You know,” Evelyn said. “I haven’t heard that name since Drusilla had a party to celebrate the attack on their gate network…”
Clara’s heart sank, but kept her emotions hidden by eating a few more bites. That was exactly what she feared: that the Tower was cut off and remained as such to this day.
“Sounds like you miss them?” Clara asked to deflect.
“Oh?” Evelyn said. “I suppose. They were most helpful to rid us of any undesirables and could be counted on to follow a strict set of rules.”
“Unlike this new group?” Clara asked.
Evelyn nodded and said, “You get around, don’t you?”
Both took a few more bites in an effort to collect their thoughts. Clara was beginning to suspect that Evelyn was not aligned with those currently in power.
“That ghoul interrogator was an interesting development,” Clara said. “I encountered that before the Great—”
“The First World War,” Evelyn interrupted. “One of Drusilla’s great plans that you put on ice for a couple of decades.”
So her hunch had been dead on. Drusilla must have spent centuries aligning the darker elements into a loose coalition. All in an effort to oppress humanity, but to what end?
“Is that why I encountered werewolves in the city?” Clara asked.
Evelyn’s eyes temporarily widened and she soon realised her faux pas. She smiled shyly and giggled.
“You’ve really been around the block,” Evelyn said.
Clara grinned and helped herself to some of that molten cheese dish that Evelyn had been sampling. To put it mildly, it was simply divine.
“I feel like a one gal wrecking crew,” Clara said.
“I’ve seen natural disasters that left behind less destruction,” Evelyn said with a giggle-snort. That clearly caught her off guard. She grinned and covered her mouth before saying, “Excusez-moi.”
Clara smiled. It was great to see someone lower their guard. Especially when centuries of practice were used to keep up the pretence of being cultured.
Evelyn’s face grew sombre. It seemed that the idle chit chat was over. Clara had been expecting this, but had no idea where this conversation would lead.
“Whatever you have in mind,” Evelyn whispered. “We want in.”
It was fortunate that Clara had enhanced hearing, since Evelyn’s whisper was exceptionally soft, practically background noise. Why all the theatrics? Clara was unsure, but knew for certain that this was not a game.
“We?” Clara whispered.
Evelyn nodded, “That’s why Marc and I destroyed the Georgian laboratory.”
This was all beginning to make sense. Evelyn was no longer aligned with those in power and completely isolated. The more power her opponents gained, the tighter the noose around her neck became.
“I want to revive the Tower,” Clara said.
Evelyn giggled in surprise before replying, “Go on.”
“Too much?” Clara asked before she cringed.
“Ma chère,” Evelyn said while she prepared another slice of bread with pâté.
She then brought it over to Clara’s lips and held it there so the other could taste it. Clara bit into the cracker, tasting the pepper and meat mix, which brought a smile to her face.
“You are about to set sail onto unfamiliar seas. Sure. Water is water. There are common elements between all oceans. It may even seem inviting from ashore, but you can only see so far. You have no understanding of the dangers that lurk beyond the horizon,” Evelyn said.
Clara swallowed and bit off more pâté while avoiding contact. She was really enjoying this food. To think that the last time they met like this she had been so nervous, so much so that the only dish she sampled was the devilled eggs.
“So get situated first?” Clara confirmed.
“Exactement, ma chère,” Evelyn said. “We have resources that we can offer you. Money, weapons, intelligence…”
“Why?” Clara asked.
“We believe that the flock is better off knowing that wolves are nothing more than a figment of their imagination. We have no desire to rule over them,” Evelyn said.
“Where would be the fun in that?” Clara said.
“Exactement! Quel drame!” Evelyn said with a smirk.
Indeed, such a tragedy, a bunch of immortals, bored and morally corrupt with power to run the world. They would treat humanity no better than livestock, so no art or new advances in technology. Soon enough, a war would break out between the more powerful players in an effort to gain a sliver of power. If hell was real, it might be preferable to that outcome.
“On one condition,” Clara said.
“Name it,” Evelyn said.
“Elizabeth and her family stay out of this,” Clara said while narrowing her eyes.
“Marc and I will make sure that she is looked after,” Evelyn said. “Does that satisfy your needs?”
With a smile, Clara said, “Now. You were saying something about weapons…”
Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!
By the time Clara was dry and changed, the smell of brewed coffee filled the air. Elizabeth was at the counter, wearing something less distracting, which managed to relieve and disappoint Clara.
She approached the counter casually, wearing a jean skirt that went down to her knees and a thick white denim shirt. Clara was beginning to learn the joys of a sports bra. While a bit snug, it did much to support the girls without a lot of complexity.
These clothes were decidedly not Elizabeth’s style. Even now, her friend looked ready for the office. There was an air of professionalism that surrounded her, and this outfit was anything but.
Elizabeth tossed her two long, grey wool stockings. Clara would not have been caught dead in these during her time, but they suited the overall theme.
“Here,” Elizabeth said. “You’ll need these.”
Clara knew they would be itchy for a while, but at least they would keep her warm, even when soaking wet. She sat down and slipped them on sensibly, to avoid making this a sensual experience. In the background, her eyes discerned that Elizabeth was deep in thought.
“Thank you,” Clara said with a smile. “That smells great.”
“Anything is better than that diner’s coffee,” Elizabeth said flatly. “Although, not by much.”
There was a pause as a moment of uncomfortable silence filled the space between them. Something was on their minds, but neither knew how to broach the subject.
Fortunately, the coffee maker began to make loud noises as the last of the water cycled through the system. Elizabeth turned her attention to that while Clara finished slipping on the stockings. Unlike the rest of her outfit, these were a bit big as though they had been intended for someone much taller.
On a hunch, Clara looked over towards Elizabeth and noticed that her gold band was gone. A white void was left in its place, a hint that this was not a simple case of guilt or infatuation.
A cup of coffee, milk, and a five pound bag of sugar was placed on the counter. Elizabeth smirked, choosing to take hers black while Clara sweetened it mildly before taking a sip. They both sighed contentedly, wrapping their hands around the hot ceramic, and let the heat radiate into their hands.
“That was one hell of a weekend,” Elizabeth said.
Clara had not been aware of the date, time, or even the season. While the latter was easy enough to guess, weather could nonetheless deceive an outsider.
“So today is Monday?” Clara asked.
Elizabeth nodded, looked into the swirling pool of black elixir, and sighed.
“This was probably the single-most fucked up weekend I’ve ever had,” Elizabeth said. “I can’t tell a soul can I?”
“No.” Clara said. “How would you treat a patient who described what you went through?”
“Point taken,” Elizabeth said. She took a sip as a distraction and said, “Saturday morning, I was happily married, looking to help a lost friend. Like most, I assumed that vampires—and angels—were works of fiction.”
“And—,” Clara tried to say.
Elizabeth raised her hand, fingers together and palm facing Clara. This was her way of telling the other to stop interrupting, so she could get this off her chest.
“Today I know that my friend is dead, that these things do in fact exist, and that includes you…” Elizabeth trailed off. Another sip of her coffee imbued her with strength, even if only imagined, before she added, “I also learned that I was never married.”
“What?” Clara asked, realising why Elizabeth had been pacing before her arrival.
“She’s on tour,” Elizabeth said. “Those are her things in our—my bedroom. So imagine my surprise when I saw the announcement that she had recently tied the knot with her long-time friend and confidant.”
“I’m sorry—” Clara tried to say.
“Are you?” Elizabeth hissed. “I’ve seen how you’ve been eyeing me.”
“I’m—” Clara said.
“Sorry?” Elizabeth confirmed. “So that’s what you planned to tell me when you got in here?”
Clara simply nodded. It was clear that Elizabeth had managed to tie up all of her emotions and thoughts into a coherent bundle. That clarity enabled her to channel it constructively, and spared Clara from having to do the same.
Elizabeth finished off her coffee and poured herself another. She took a quick glance at Clara’s cup and topped it up for good measure. Clara smiled appreciatively and would not say another world until needed.
“I thought about going with you, wherever you are headed,” Elizabeth said. “In the end, I realised that you didn’t need me slowing you down. Nor did you need me to muddy the waters with all of this tension.”
Clara nodded once more and felt her heart grow lighter with every word. Elizabeth was pushing forward the exact same statements that Clara envisioned herself saying. Since these words were meant to soften the blow for Clara, it effectively made this a victory.
“Either way,” Elizabeth said. “I still have a job to do, kids that need me. At least I can make a difference in their lives.”
Elizabeth finished off her second cup of coffee, paused, and smiled before she went around the counter. She showed no signs of hesitation and placed her hands firmly on Clara’s shoulders before closing the distance between their lips.
Clara just went with it, enjoying the fact that someone else knew how to take charge. When their lips touched, all of that tension and anxiety washed away, replaced by a passion that enveloped them.
Clara parted her lips and found that Elizabeth was a step ahead. Their tongues touched, hesitating momentarily before diving into the dance. When Elizabeth pulled back, both of them were short of breath.
“I needed that,” Elizabeth said. “In a couple of days, once this fucking shitstorm sinks in, I may realise that all of this was a result of you saving my life. Just like you may come to learn that what you needed was intimacy, and I just happened to be there.”
She then tossed a phone on the counter, along with a charger and cable. It was the phone she lifted from that dive bar, and it seemed to be working fine.
“You got some messages when I plugged it in,” Elizabeth said as she slid a pad towards her. “I wrote them down here for you and added my number to the phone.”
Elizabeth walked over to the door and picked up her coat, purse, and keys. She was bundling up for the cold but, despite the journey ahead, she wore a smile.
“You can grab a coat that fits from… her… closet,” Elizabeth said. “Now if you need a place to crash…”
“That’s too—,” Clara said.
Elizabeth cut her off and said, “My couch will always be available to you. Just make sure to use the window, so this door stays locked.”
With nothing more to say, she left Clara alone in the apartment. Clara let the silence sink in, marking the first time in days that there was not something going wrong or her being driven towards an objective. She gulped a few mouthfuls of coffee. The bitterness reminded her that this was precisely where she needed to be. Heaven was too isolated, sterile, and constricting for her. Clara required the flavour and spice of life in order to be content.
After her second cup, she sighed softly, grabbed the pad, and admired the woman’s beautiful handwriting. The message was good news but, given who she was dealing with, that situation could turn on her real fast.
Clara looked at her phone and noted the time. With the better part of the day to herself and with nothing better to do, she began to experiment with the mobile phone. The messages were in there somewhere, and she was determined to find them.
Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!
Special delivery! I just got my manuscript for The Van Helsing Incursion back from the editor in the mail. So guess what I’ll be doing this weekend? That’s right, doing some editing!
