"Beauty is a form of Genius — is higher, indeed, than Genius, as it needs no explanation. It cannot be questioned. It has divine right of sovereignty. It makes princes of those who have it."
~ Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
__________
A face was meant to have flaws.
Even the most beautiful of faces lacked precise symmetry. Or donned a minute blemish. Or, perhaps, a slight crease around the eyes.
Human beings believed they strove for perfection, but really, it was near perfection that they sought.
Lucy knew this.
She knew this because, in that moment, staring up into the stranger's angelic visage, she was seeing perfection.
And it was terrifying.
Terrifying and unnatural. The face of something that could not be real. Something that could not exist. A painting that moved, and spoke, and smiled.
A smile to end all worlds...
She tried to speak, but no words came forth. She made a dumbstruck sound that fell somewhere between a sigh and a whimper, so commanding was his presence.
Seeing her struggle, the stranger's grin grew wider.
Suddenly, Lucy sensed Dr. Reed next to her. With much anguish, she tore her gaze away from the stranger. Turning her head was a feat, but she managed, and she let her wide eyes settle on the physician's face.
He looked angry. And not the least bit impressed.
"By all means, just let yourself in," Dr. Reed berated the stranger between clenched teeth. "No forewarning. No decorum. Typical."
His voice was hard. Terse. And familiar. These two men were acquainted.
The stranger did not appear to be bothered by Dr. Reed's frigid address.
"Thomas!" came his jovial response. "Is that any way to greet an old friend? Haven't you missed me?"
"I'd say yes, but I wouldn't want to sound disingenuous," Dr. Reed stated. "And I'll thank you to release Miss Penn."
Lucy looked down. Indeed, her wrist was still caught in the stranger's grasp. She tried to pull away, but her efforts were in vain. Even exuding no force, he proved to be several times stronger than she.
Dr. Reed's voice dropped in volume but rose in fervor. "Unhand her."
A warning.
"Thomas. Come now," the stranger purred. "I mean no harm." He adopted the same low volume, but his tone exuded a playful, taunting quality.
His voice was as beautiful as his face.
Lucy flinched. The enmity seething from Dr. Reed was nearly as encompassing as the fog that surrounded them.
"Your intentions are of no consequence," Dr. Reed informed the stranger. "You are causing her discomfort. Why are you here?"
"Ahhh," the stranger teased. "So you fancy this one."
Lucy had heard quite enough. Finding her voice, she accosted the stranger. "First meetings usually warrant introductions — unless you are devoid of all propriety and courtesy. I am Lucy Penn. Who are you?"
The stranger's eyes widened and a gleeful laugh escaped him. His fingers eased down the length of Lucy's wrist, taking gentle hold of her hand and bringing it to his lips. He placed a lingering kiss upon her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers.
Much against her will, Lucy quivered.
"Lucy Penn," he murmured. "What a pleasure. I am called Virgil. And I am here–" he glanced up at Dr. Reed "–because I know what is causing the fog."
Lucy blanched. She considered Virgil with new fascination, his lack of manners forgotten.
"You do?" she asked. "You know? What is it?"
"Ohhh, not so much a what as a who..." Virgil said, turning Lucy's hand over in both of his. He caressed the inside of her wrist with the tip of his elegant nose. He inhaled deeply. "...and you have already met him."
The blood in Lucy's veins turned to ice. She ripped her hand away from Virgil, holding it to her chest like it had been scalded.
"The Nosferatu?" she whispered.
"Yesss," Virgil confirmed. "I have been looking for him. It was the scent of his venerable blood in your veins that brought me here. It was he who made you."
It was a statement. Not a question.
"You– You can smell my blood?" she stammered.
Virgil grinned. "Oh, yes. It's strong. Potent. Robust..." He inhaled again, making a performance of it. "Tyro though you may be, your maker is the better part of three millennia old, and very powerful. Your vampiric potential may be without limit."
Dr. Reed bristled. "That's enough, Virgil. Miss Penn doesn't need to hear such things. Not yet."
Virgil regarded Dr. Reed with a cool stare. "She's stronger than you give her credit for, Thomas."
"I am aware of her strength," Dr. Reed said, holding up a hand. "I am also aware of how shocking information such as this can be if not delivered at the opportune time. There are many things she should know, the grotesque details of which need not be breached tonight. Truth is well and good, but truth without tact can be damaging."
Lucy placed a soft hand on Dr. Reed's arm, pacifying him.
She turned to Virgil. "Are you saying that, with practice, I could be stronger than either of you?"
Virgil laughed, and Dr. Reed threw up his hands.
"Aren't you a precious creature?" Virgil exclaimed. "No, no, our abilities and strengths cannot be compared, dearest. I am not a vampire."
Lucy's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "You're not?"
Dr. Reed shoved his fingers through his hair. "Heaven, deliver me."
"No, I am not." Virgil smirked, pointedly ignoring Dr. Reed's distress. "I am a dhampir."
Lucy's eyes widened. She knew that word. She'd read about it. It was foreign. The Balkans. Yes, Balkan and Asian literature. But it couldn't be real. Those stories were legends. Folklore.
Yet...
Only one short month ago, she'd have sworn with absolute certainty that vampires were nothing more than folklore. How wrong she had been.
"A dhampir?" she repeated. "But...that would mean your existence is the product of–"
"–the coupling between a male vampire and a female mortal," Virgil said, completing her sentence. He appeared both impressed by her knowledge and amused by her shock. "Yes. That is correct."
Lucy gaped at him, astonished. "Is it possible?"
"It is," he verified. "Although, very rare."
She stared at Virgil's face, studying the impossible perfection of the porcelain countenance before her. She knew what she was seeing, and she knew what her instincts were telling her. The unearthly beauty and presence of this man could be explained no other way. He was what he claimed to be. To attempt to prove otherwise would be a fool's errand.
Lucy was beside herself. "You are half vampire, and half mortal?" she asked.
"I am both, and I am neither," Virgil replied. "A spieces all of my own, claiming attributes from both bloodlines. All of their strengths, none of their weaknesses."
"Stop this," Dr. Reed interjected, but his words went unheard by both Virgil and Lucy.
"And what does one do with such limitless ability?" Lucy eyed the rapier at Virgil's side, not bothering to hide her skepticism. "I highly doubt you are a member of the royal guard."
Virgil shook his head. "I am a hunter."
"And what do you hunt?"
"Stop this now!" Dr. Reed commanded.
Virgil grinned. "I hunt vampires."
Lucy leapt backward, hackles raised. She took refuge behind Dr. Reed, a low growling sound she didn't recognize emanating from the back of her throat.
Dr. Reed's jaw clenched. He jabbed a finger at Virgil's chest. "I told you to stop this!"
Virgil held up his hands in mock surrender. "Calm yourselves! My goodness!" he exclaimed with a blithesome laugh. "It is either far too late, or far too early, to be in such a state of agitation. Lucy, come out."
Lucy stood on her toes, peeking at Virgil from over Dr. Reed's shoulder.
Virgil chuckled at her sudden and newfound reservation. "Vampires like you, and Thomas, have nothing to fear from me," he assured her, his voice soft and melodic. "You have your faculties. You have sense and moral code. I hunt and slay only those that cause risk to human life and ignorance."
Lucy narrowed her eyes at the dhampir. "You say that as if ignorance is something best preserved."
"Isn't it? In this nuance?" he baited. "Do you really want the general population of humanity privy to your existence?"
This gave Lucy pause. She contemplated for a moment, cautiously stepping out from behind Dr. Reed. He placed a protective hand on her shoulder.
"No," she admitted.
"Nor do I," Virgil concurred. "The world is not ready to know about we creatures of the night. And I can tell you from centuries of witnessing the atrocities and prejudices of mankind, that mobs with pitchforks can do a great deal of damage."
Lucy nodded, her mouth set in a grim line.
"That's quite enough history and philosophy for one night, thank you," Dr. Reed interrupted. "Miss Penn must be on her way shortly, and I intend to see her off. I trust you can let yourself out, Virgil."
"Oh, I am not finished," Virgil said.
"Oh, for the moment, yes, you are," Dr. Reed informed the dhampir. "Now is not the time."
"What I have to say affects her as much as it does you, Thomas."
"Virgil!" the physician snapped, exasperated. "Now is not the time!"
Apparently able to feel the daggers that Dr. Reed was glaring at him, Virgil conceded with an impatient sigh. "As you wish."
Turning to Lucy, the beautiful dhampir swept into a deep bow. "Lucy," he said, his tone far more seductive than she deemed necessary. "I shall see you again. Soon."
She made to reply, but Virgil was gone, becoming one with the fog.
Lucy blinked. "I really must learn how to do that."
Dr. Reed huffed. "It's not that impressive."
Glancing up at the doctor, Lucy studied the furrowed brow and deep frown that marred his handsome features. "You really don't like him."
Dr. Reed sighed. "Virgil is ancient, powerful, sentient...and completely insufferable." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Over the years, he has been both a great help and a great hindrance to my existence as a vampire. No doubt you will soon have a similar ambiguous relationship with him. He is our ally, Miss Penn. That does not necessarily make him our friend."
Lucy smiled, grateful for the doctor's candor. "I understand."
"Good."
They began a leisurely walk, like a couple strolling through the park on a spring afternoon. Lucy realized Dr. Reed was escorting her back to the hospital's entrance. And of course he was — she had interrupted his nightly shift, taking him from his work and the patients who needed him. He had been magnanimous giving her as much time and attention as he had.
Still, she was not ready to say goodbye.
A phrase from her many studies migrated to the forefront of her mind:
"Fortis fortuna adiuvat."
Fortune favors the bold.
If ever there was a time to seek proof of validity in old Latin quotations, this was it.
As they reached the gate that would allow her escape of the hospital and access to the street, Lucy placed a hand on Dr. Reed's elbow in silent request for his ear.
He paused and turned toward her.
"Dr. Reed, I—"
When given his attention, she realized she was at a loss for words. She should have rehearsed a mental speech so as not to embarrass herself and further waste his time.
Clearing her throat, she began again, hoping to sound conversational rather than emotional.
"It was quite the surprise meeting you tonight," she said. "A bit of serendipity I could never have foreseen. It would mean so very much to me to have another of my kind to talk to. My knowledge of my newly adopted race is still so rudimentary, and, in truth, I haven't many friends. If an opportunity arises in which you are not besieged with the sick and injured, may I call upon you again? I– I would like that very much."
She lowered her eyes, gaze focused on the ground. She knew her words lacked both eloquence and maturity.
To her surprise, Dr. Reed took her hand. He gently stroked her knuckles with the pad of his thumb. He smiled down at her, his expression unguarded.
"Speaking with you tonight has been my profound pleasure, Miss Penn," he said. "I hope to continue speaking with you on a regular basis. You may call upon me whenever you wish."
There was a sudden and distinct flutter in her chest that made Lucy feel blissfully human. Dr. Reed wanted to see her again. He had enjoyed speaking with her. The skin on her cheeks tingled in delight.
He opened the gate. "Now, please, go straight home," he instructed. "Take only the well-lit, main streets. Avoid alleys and shortcuts, alright? I needn't tell you what lurks in London's shadows."
Lucy smiled. "Straight home. I promise."
"Safe journey."
"Thank you."
With the intention of departure, she walked through the gate. A moment's hesitation inspired her to turn back, and she stared at Dr. Reed, contemplative.
Fortis fortuna adiuvat.
Decisively, she closed the short distance between them, stood on her toes, and placed a swift kiss on his cheek.
"Goodnight, doctor."
Glancing back once more, she turned and sauntered into the fog. She could feel Dr. Reed's eyes on her as she vanished from his view.
She laughed silently to herself. Her mother would be aghast. Her actions had not been those of a well-bred, proper young lady.
But what of that?
She was a vampire.
~ * ~