Page 77 of Lucy Undying (Dracula #1)

77

Boston, December 29, 2024

My Little Cabbage,

Thank you for your letters. I’ve read them so many times I know them by heart. I told Vanessa—my therapist—all about you. She’s going to send this so you don’t have to worry anymore. And the backpack strap is a great idea. It’ll smell like you, so I’ll find it anywhere.

I’m glad you can tell me you’re scared. I’m scared, too, which I haven’t been in ever so long. It’s a novelty! Look at you, bringing even more sensations and emotions back into my life.

We can’t be scared if we don’t care what happens to or around us. Now we care. And because we care so very much, we’re going to win. I know it.

So: I’ll endeavor to take up all your dreaming time from now on, leaving Dracula no space in it. And I’ll be there soon. Because I have news, too. Not “I’m showing up with Dracula’s head as my new clutch” news, because it would be difficult to match to a dress and I’m still vain enough to be bothered by that, but “I officially know we’re on his trail now” news. With bonus surprise allies! I saved a couple of old friends, and they’re on our side.

My time in Boston proved you were correct: Dracula is behind Goldaming Life. All the vampires here are connected to the organization and also Dracula, and therefore violently invested in protecting him. Arthur and Doctor Seward must have worked with him back in my day, rather than kill him. Then they used Dracula’s power and influence to amass a fortune while giving him a foothold in a new land. Our focus must stay on getting close to the top of the Goldaming Life pyramid. That’s how we’ll find him.

I know it’s an unbearable burden on you. I wish Goldaming Life weren’t involved. I want nothing more than to swoop in and rescue you from it all. Burn down your old home while we’re at it.

But we’re on our way to you now. Which is good. Being apart from you feels like going too long without rest—the borders of my self feel less solid.

You make me feel real.

See you in your dreams—

Lucy

P.S. The Lover—her name has nothing to do with our relationship, we’re only friends and also she’s not quite sane a majority of the time—wants me to tell you hello, and also wants to know if you’re friends with any serial killers or know where she might find some. I told her it was unlikely, but promised to ask.