hesitated, and he gestured broadly again at the chair. Not knowing what else to do, she walked to the chair cautiously and sat in it. It was comfortable, and the fire was indeed warm. She did not know what to say. “Elizabeth—”
“Is a vicious cunt.”
She laughed at his bluntness. “I would not have gone that far.”
“Then you don’t know her well yet.” The strange creature in front of her was now plucking a pot off the fire from the hook on which it dangled. He walked to a kettle on the table and poured the water into it. He began to scoop some leaves out of a jar and into the hot liquid. “You must be Miss Parker.”
“I fear I do not know what to do with this sudden fame.”
He snorted. “The cunt dropped you here, why, exactly? The bones did not say.”
“You are a soothsayer?”
“I am a witchdoctor.” He cackled in a joke she did not understand. He turned to look at her, and smiled again, lopsided and goofy. “Get it?”
“I’m afraid I don’t.” She smiled back even if she did not understand.
“Witch”—he pointed at himself—“Doctor.” He jabbed a thumb at the dormant face on his back. He laughed loudly as a look of understanding must have washed over her. “You are such a sweet thing. Poor girl, caught up in all this mess.” He gestured at the room, but she knew he meant the city. “Master Dracula has not been kind to you.”
“I think he has tried, for what it’s worth.”
“Sometimes that’s all a person might ask.” He cracked his neck, and it crunched loudly. She winced at the sound. “Mhn. He wishes to come say hello. He says I am mucking up the tea.”
He shut his eyes, and she shrank into her chair as he…changed. Every bone in his body seemed to crack and shift as the front of him became the back of him. Going from hunched in one direction, to perfectly straight, to suddenly facing the other way. Eyes behind glasses opened and met her with a faint and polite smile. He tugged on his suitcoat and bowed his head to her. “My lady.”
“I…forgive me, I do not usually swear in English, but I feel I must in this moment. Holy shit.”
The gentleman smiled and stroked his hand over his hair, smoothing back the braids and looking all the world like a courtier of some fine gala if it were not for the simple fact that he had another man stitched to his back.
“It is quite all right. I understand. You are handling our unique condition better than most, I must say.” He turned back to the teapot and sighed. “The Witch means well. He was simply ruining the tea.” Picking up a spoon, he fished out some of the leaves from the hot water. “He does not understand the concept of subtlety. Too many leaves in the water will make it unpalatable. My lady, how do you take it?”
“I couldn’t possibly bother you to—”
“Please.” The gentleman looked back at her with a gentle and sad smile. “Entertain a lonely Doctor.” He placed his hand to his chest.
She stammered for a moment before trying again. “With honey, if you have it. If not, sugar will be more than fine.”
“We have plenty of honey.” He walked across the mess of a room and opened a pantry. Fishing through jars, he pulled one from a stack of others that looked far less inviting. She hoped it was indeed honey and not some other terrible liquid, but the amber tone gave her hope.
“May I ask you a question?”
“Of course! Do not be shy.”
“It is quite personal.”
“The best questions are.”
She smiled faintly. “How is it that you’ve come to be this way? I have never seen nor heard of anything quite like…you.”
“Ah, yes. Well, you will find many of us with terribly unique afflictions serve Master Dracula. We are limited only by his imagination, I believe. And you can’t begin to fathom how troubled a mind he owns.”
“I am beginning to suspect.”
“I suppose you are.” The Doctor stood there, looking down at the tea, waiting for it to steep. “How did we get to be the way we are? I fear neither of us were left whole enough by death to exist apart. He took two souls, broken and destitute, shattered and empty, and…we did the rest. The Witch and I are one because we chose to be. We were not forced into this arrangement. Without the other, the