But to rise strong and unscathed, some will be sacrificed
along the way. Who gets to live and thrive? And who decides?
Prologue
George gasped, choked, and
convulsed; blood shot from his mouth, spattering the fish loaf, boiled cabbage,
apple pudding, and the cheese he had scorned and staining the white tablecloth
with tributaries of scarlet.
Chapter 1: A Sick Man and His Dream
“Simons Mansion!”
Dr. Parks exclaimed. “I rescue you from the brink of hell, and you ask
about Simons Mansion?”
Chapter 2: Night Crawler
A deathly quiet
surrounded him, a silence not broken by the pounding of his heart or the
roaring of his breath in his ears as he used to know deafening silences. It was
just Henry and the dog, and neither was alive anymore.
Chapter 3: Lake of Fire
They choked on smokes; they dodged stampedes and gunfire. They waded
through whispering corn; they poured the wine, slept in brothels, and bought
their spring wardrobe, their summer wardrobe, their fall wardrobe.
Chapter 4: Stripe for Stripe
Faraway from inside the
colonial, a clock struck two with solemn gongs.
The hour of the demon.
Or so he always wrote.
Chapter 5: River of Life
“What would Dad think if
we let his good friend die?” Leo said quietly as he rolled up his sleeve to the
shoulder. “Would he rejoice in heaven? Smile down at our good sense?”
Chapter 6: Red Meat
He cared about
blood.
Not family blood, but the
blood of families laid out in their beds like quail on a serving platter. He
flinched and shuddered at the thought of that delicate bird roasted in its
juice with black pepper and allspice. The only quail that quickened his palate
was raw, bloody, and ebbing from life.
Chapter 7: Weeping Cometh by Day
Healthy residents retire
at night; a random few expire before dawn. Could a mutated tuberculosis be the
cause? A new plague from distant lands that migrated to these soils?
It seems unlikely the
cause is demons, not with a rumored vivisectionist practicing in their midst,
who could easily stake and dismember any prowling vampires.
For the safety of all, a
quarantine remains in place, which all are heeding.
Except the vampires.
Chapter 8: From Cellar to Ceiling
Kellen Wechsler, John’s manager, was lounging in a wingback far away
from the fire, sulking and smoking a cigar. He wore only black, the same shade
as his hair, eyes, goatee, nails, everything except his waxy skin, which was
pale as death. Unlike John, Kellen sported a certain “freshness,” like when a
butcher presses blood into spoiled meat for reselling
Chapter 9: A Place of Perdition
"You dream by night; you
know the nature of dreams. When dawn arrives, you eagerly allow dreams to fragment
and disperse in favor of daylight and sunshine. Well, Little Marie, I am like a
man wakened from a long sleep. It is time that I, too, walk in the light. Have
you no comment?”
Chapter 10: The Dead Should Be His Own
So Kellen clawed his way
out of his crypt with his phony vampire kit in his hand and reemerged behind
Simons Mansion, ready to do his evil deed, which Kellen assured himself was
really a good deed, like culling deer.
Chapter 11: A Little Wine for Your Stomach, Part One
But Dr. Parks only looked
inside the goblet, as if hypnotized by its ripples, and she wondered what he
saw: the wine’s deep color, almost black with a plum blush near the top, or
something beyond the wine.
For if one peered closely,
one might perceive nuances of its bouquet: elegant, smooth, and mature, a wine
to be savored in all its complexities. A more reflective person might detect
the high regard the family had for its head – and the head’s physician – since
only the best was served up to them. One who pondered spiritual truths might
understand the medicinal depths this wine represented, both to the drinker and
the one who poured.
But
most people didn’t look that far.
Chapter 12: A Little Wine for Your Stomach, Part Two
“Look, you can cultivate
elegance and civility like a decent human being.”
“I’m neither decent nor
human.”
Chapter 13: Brain Fever
But although Marie
dutifully bent her head over her grammar, sparks of panic disrupted the pathway
between her mind and the written characters, and she spent most of the time
stomping them out.
Chapter 14: None Greater Can Be Conceived
When he finally reached the top, he turned left for the opportunity to
turn right was gone; he must only turn left; he was incapable of turning any
other way.
Chapter 15: When Even
Words Won’t Stir Him
Isabella had not washed or changed her clothes for many days, and she
smelled as grubby as she looked, nothing like rose water.
Chapter 16: Small Bites
“Leeches?” Henry, curious,
stepped closer. Sure enough, the glass jars held leeches, not worms. “I don’t
recall leeches as part of New York and Chicago’s polite society, but perhaps
the rules are different here at Simons Mansion.”
Chapter 17: In Which a Discourse Arises Between Dr. Parks
and Little Marie
For the Grim Reaper stood ready with his scythe, and he cast a wide veil
over their hope, even though they’d put their whole strength at keeping George
Clare on the green side of life.
Chapter 18: Bad Fruit
Henry ravenously tore into
one body after another. Kellen squatted on Henry’s death chair, like a frog preparing
to catch flies, and urged Henry and John to hurry with rude, sarcastic remarks:
“Come on, eat up!” “Don’t let anyone go to waste!” “This will help you
grow big and strong!” and “Tastes just like chicken!”
Chapter 19: Man to Man
Just one glance at Dr. Parks’ companion, and Marie immediately knew
Death had an enemy, a force more robust, more sinister than Death had yet
encountered, a force that smelled, not of brimstone, but of aromatic pipe
tobacco.
Chapter 20: Father of Lies
He paused at the
Schwechten, tracing a gaunt finger through its burr walnut swirls as if
noticing them for the first time. He and his piano: both well-played.
Chapter 21: Sabbath Day
“I used to dream,” Luther
said. Then he cocked his wrist and flicked the rock across the lake. It
skipped, skipped, skipped, skipped, leaving widening circles in its wake. “But
I don’t anymore.” He looked pointedly at Marie. “And If you wish to live at
ease with yourself, I advise you to do the same.”
Chapter 22: Thorns with Poison
I know you are quite
alone in the world, and that you are in-dependent and freethinking, but even
modern women need to con-sider their reputations, and you are no exception,
especially since “he” appears to have no regard for it at all.
Chapter 23: The Dead Man Rises
George’s shoulders sagged,
and he ran a trembling hand through his hair. “Can you not look at me? Because
you see a monster?”
Chapter 24: Drawing Back the Moon
“The grieving John
Simons,” Dr. Gothart remarked to Kellen one night. “Each note perfectly
executed and devoid of warmth, like chimes of ice.”
Chapter 25: The Prodigal So
Today, he was both
doctor and patient, and the latter filled him with dread and unease. He’d
rather strip naked and strut across Main Street than bare his soul.
Vulnerability did not suit him.
Chapter 26: Redefining Life
Great. Flashbacks. That’s
what Henry needed right now, a visit from the Ghost of his Evansville Past.
Henry was dead; Horace wanted to be dead, and Henry was here to get the job
done, not stroll down Memory Lane.
Chapter 27: Scrap Tossed to the Winds
Mostly, the essence of her
papa’s vibrancy was gone. Marie saw what the others did not: a semi-forced
gaiety. He no longer had hope in his eyes. Just the color blue.
Chapter 28: A New Gastronomy
He kept one eye on the
next step in the recipes while nibbling here, tasting there, and licking his
fingers, as any cook secretly does when no one is watching.
Chapter 29: Hope and a Future
Whereas some men had
intelligence and skill, Dr. Parks also had discernment. And where some
physicians recovered the bodily health of their patients, Dr. Parks restored
the entire man. She knew why people condemned his vivisectionist activities.
One can’t see into a person without inflicting pain. Stay on the surface, be at
ease, as Luther might say. But then never be whole.
Chapter 30: The Wolf Shall Dwell With The Lamb
He thought of Pa, so like the illustration of a reed from an old botany
textbook: slender, bendable to winds of misfortune, and, like any invasive
species, equipped with a tenacious ability for survival by suppressing competitors,
including his own family, wherever he rooted himself. Pa took what he wanted,
including Henry’s mother.
Epilogue
Except for the royal blue
and dark hair, she was a miniature replica of her mother, and she stopped and
looked up at him from beneath the brim of her regal hat, and the look was blank
and devoid of connection. It wasn’t trusting. It wasn’t knowing. It wasn’t a
look of anticipation for the future or thankfulness for his role in
facilitating that future. It was simply a look.
