plunged it into Emily’s shoulder. She turned to him and again tried to sit up, tugging at the ropes with enormous strength, but her efforts quickly ebbed as the drug took effect. She fell back into the mattress and drifted off to sleep.
“Laudanum,” Thornley said. “It seems to be the only thing that works. Although I’m finding it less and less effective. I had been putting it in her wine; now only injections have any effect. The dose I gave her would normally keep a man my size out for six to eight hours; she’ll be awake again in less than one.”
Vambéry carefully pulled back Emily’s gag so he could inspect her teeth.
“What are you doing?” Thornley said.
“How long has this been going on?” Vambéry said, peeling back her lips from the gums and leaning in yet closer. Her breath reeked of rot, even from where I stood.
My brother turned away from us in an attempt to conceal the tears in his eyes. “Weeks now, but tonight is worst of all. She has never done . . . this.” He spread his hands, gesturing at the bloody gore.
Thornley told us how he had found her in the basement. He told us of the mice. I nearly became ill at the thought. Matilda, too, had turned a pale white. Only Vambéry seemed to be unfazed. He studied the mark on Emily’s neck. “What about this? When did you first notice this mark?”
“A few days ago,” Thornley replied.
Vambéry pulled a chain from around his neck, a cross dangling from the end. “This crucifix is of the finest silver. It was given to me by a priest at a monastery I visited about four years ago in a small town called Oradea on the border between Hungary and Romania.”
He removed the chain and held the cross by its base. With a careful motion, he pressed the silver talisman against the back of Emily’s right hand. Her body jerked on contact with it, and smoke rose from the place the cross touched. I smelled burning flesh and watched in horror as her skin became red and blistered.
“Stop!” Thornley cried out, batting Vambéry’s hand aside. “You are hurting her!”
Matilda and I stood by in stunned silence.
“Has she been near this Ellen Crone?” Vambéry asked, looping the chain, the crucifix reattached, back around his neck. “Perhaps Ellen has afflicted your wife as some kind of warning, meaning to frighten us away, to keep us from investigating further. Has she ever been in contact with Ellen Crone before?”
“Not that I am aware of,” Thornley told him. He reached for his wife’s hand and held it tenderly in his own, his fingers caressing the wound. “Can you help her?”
Vambéry let out a deep breath. He glanced at me and quickly averted his eyes, something not lost on me. “These undead, they spread their illness by bite. Once bitten, once this disease enters the blood, there is little that can be done. Much depends on the number of times she has been bitten, just how much she has been exposed. We must allow her rest and fluids, as much as she is willing to drink, red wine most of all to replenish her healthy blood. We must give her body what she needs to force this infection out. There is also a need to ensure she is not bitten again. These creatures tend to return to the same victim; this helps to prevent their discovery. The one who has bitten her will return, and we must keep this creature from getting back to her at all costs.”
“You’ve encountered these beasts before, haven’t you?” Matilda said. “You speak of them as if from firsthand knowledge, yet you tell us so very little.”
Vambéry appeared taken aback by this remark. I imagine he had never encountered a lady as forthright at my sister, and in truth, he may never do so again. For this, I was, as ever, grateful; she asked the questions that were on all of our minds.
I watched as Vambéry settled into a chair beside Emily’s bed, his eyes warily watching my brother’s wife as she slept. “There is little to tell, I’m afraid. Nothing of which has