Chapter 49 Chapter Forty-eight

This is Rossi's last letter. I sat next to Helen on the long-distance bus back to Budapest, carefully refolded the letter, and took her hand, "Helen," I said hesitantly, "you are from Vlad Dracula." Descendants." In Budapest, as Helen and I got out of the car, it was getting late, Rosie's letter was safely in my briefcase, and the contents inside made my imagination run wild.I also saw the same feeling in Helen's eyes.She held my arm the whole time, as if her self-confidence had been shaken by what she had learned that day. " When we arrived at the lobby, a sense of returning from a long absence returned to our minds.

Helen's aunt left her a note, which she read eagerly, "I thought so too. She wants us to dine with her tonight, at this hotel. I think she's saying goodbye to us." "You'll tell her?" "About those letters? I have nothing to say to Eva." When I got downstairs, Eva was there, but Helen wasn't.I was hesitating whether to call her or not when she turned around suddenly and I saw the worry on her face.We didn't speak a word, but it was like old friends reunited after a long absence. After a while, Helen appeared, and I breathed a sigh of relief.Aunt Eva took all the orders for us as usual.They talked for a few minutes, but Aunt Eva's face soon became clouded.I saw her pick up the fork, twist it with her thumb and forefinger, and then whisper something to Helen, who also frowned.

"What happened?" I asked anxiously. "My aunt found out something that made us unhappy." "what?" Eva nodded and spoke again. "It's too bad," said Helen in a low voice, "that someone has asked my aunt about you--us.She told me that a policeman she had known for a long time came to her this afternoon, and he investigated your coming to Hungary, your research direction, and us—our relationship.He is subject to—how do you say it? ——Gaizo Joseph's request. "Her voice was so low that it almost became a silent murmur. "Gai Zuo!" I glared at her.

"I told you he was a nasty fellow. He tried to come and question me at the meeting too, but I ignored him. Obviously it pissed him off." She paused. "My aunt said he was a secret We are very dangerous." Her tone made me ask, "You already know this? What is his job?" She nodded guiltily, "I'll tell you later." It doesn't really matter if I know it or not, but it definitely makes me unhappy thinking about being stalked by that handsome big guy, "What does he want?" "He obviously thinks you're not just doing historical research. He believes you're here looking for something else."

"He's right," I pointed out under my breath. "He's determined to find out what you're looking for. My aunt tried to divert that cop's—eyes, but now she's worried." "Does your aunt know what I'm looking for—whom?" "Yes. I thought she might be able to help us." "Does she have any suggestions?" "She just said we'd better leave Hungary tomorrow." "Of course," I said angrily, "Joseph might want to join us at the airport to study Dracula's literature." "Please," she said, her voice low as a whisper, "don't make fun of this, Paul. It could get serious, if I want to come back here—"

I fell silent in shame.I don't mean to be joking, just to express my anger. As we ate, Helen told her about Rosie's letter. Eva listened intently, nodded slowly, but said nothing. As we finished our coffee, she turned to me cautiously, and Helen lowered her eyes to translate for us. "My dear young man," Eva said, "I don't know if we will meet again, but I hope we will." She glanced at Helen, who obviously pretended not to see—"Helen told I know what you're here for, and it's worth doing. But if you can't finish it soon, you have to go back." She patted her lips with a napkin and stood up.She looked serious, but I saw a deep, quiet sadness in her face.

"Come on, Paul, this is our last free time in Budapest. Tomorrow we have to get to the airport and I want to take a walk." "Walking?" I said. "But there are secret police, and they are interested in me." "They just want to find out what you know, not stab you in a dark alley. Don't be proud," she said with a smile. "They're as interested in me as they are in you. We'll just In the light, walk the streets, I do want you to take another look at the city." I'm so glad I did, I know it might be the last time I see it in my life.

Helen took off her coat.As she turned, I saw a jagged shadow on the back of her shirt.Looking closer, I suddenly realized that it was a huge spider.It had woven a web across her back, and I could clearly see the shiny filaments.I remembered the cobwebs I kept seeing on the bridge railing she slid her hand over. "Helen," I said softly, "don't be afraid—you've got something on your back." "What is it?" She froze. "I'll sweep it down," I said softly, "but it's just a spider." A shiver ran through her and she stood obediently still while I swept the thing off her back.To be honest, I was shaking too because it was the biggest spider I've ever seen.

"It's all right," I said quickly. To my surprise, she took a sob or two before calming down.I'm amazed that a woman who can shoot vampires can scare a spider like this, but today's been a tense and long day. She surprised me again: She turned to look at the river and said in a low voice, "I promised to tell you about Gezo. I don't want to lie by silence." She walked away a few steps, "I'm still in college I fell in love with him for a while, or so I thought, and in return he assisted my aunt in getting me a scholarship and a passport to leave Hungary."

I glared at her and shrank back. "Oh, it's not that vulgar," she said. "He didn't say, 'You sleep with me, and then you can go to England.' He was tactful. He didn't get everything he wanted from me. But When I no longer wanted to be with him, I had my passport in my hand. It just happened, and when I realized it, I had a pass to the West, to freedom, and I didn't want to give it up. I wanted to go It was worth it to find my father. So I kept dealing with Gezuo until I fled to London, and then I left a letter severing relations with him." "How do you know he is the secret police?"

She laughed, "He's too conceited to hide this kind of thing from people. He wanted me to impress him. I didn't tell him. It's not so much that I impress him as he frightened me." ; it disgusted me more than it freaked me out. He told me about the people he sent to jail, the people he sent to be tortured, and he implied that there were worse. For such people, You can't help but hate." "Since he's interested in my actions, I'm not happy to hear that," I said, "but I'm glad you feel that way about him." "What do you think it feels like?" she demanded. "I've been trying to avoid him since the moment we got here." "But I saw you had mixed feelings when you saw him at the meeting," I admitted. "I couldn't help but think that you loved him before, and you still loved him then." "No," she shook her head, looking down at the black water, "I have other reasons to reject him." She turned slightly to me, "It may be a small reason, but it will be very important. He has a bad heart." Well, no real interest in history and gentle gray eyes." I glared at her, and now she mustered up the courage to look straight at me, "In a word, his biggest problem is that he's not you." I couldn't read her eyes, but after a while she began to smile, as if she couldn't help it, as if she was trying to control herself, and it was the most beautiful smile any woman in her family had. I still couldn't believe it, stared at her, and then, I took her into my arms and kissed her passionately, "What do you think?" As soon as I let her go, she murmured, "What do you think?" We stood there for a long time—maybe an hour—and suddenly, with a groan, she drew back and touched her neck. "What's going on?" I asked quickly. She hesitated for a while, "My wound," she said slowly, "has healed, but sometimes it still hurts. Just now I thought—what if I can't touch you?" We stared at each other, "Let me see," I said, "Helen, let me see." Without saying a word, she unbuttoned her scarf and raised her chin to the street lamp.On her strong throat, I see purple marks, almost healed.My fear subsided a little, apparently she hadn't been bitten since the first attack. I leaned down and kissed the wound. "Oh, Paul, don't!" she exclaimed, and jumped away. "I don't care," I said, "I'm going to heal it myself." I looked at her face, "Will this hurt you?" "No, it's comfortable," she admitted. I fumbled in my pocket, "I want you to wear this." This is a small cross we bought at St. Mary's Church when we were in China.I tied it around her neck and carefully hid it under the scarf.She touched it and seemed to sigh in relief. "What about that time at St. Mary's?" "Saint Mary?" She frowned. "In China, near the school. You come to read Rossi's letter with me, and you dipped your forehead with holy water." She thought for a while, "Yes, I did, but not because of faith, but because of homesickness." We walked slowly back along the bridge. "I'll accompany you to your room," I whispered when we saw the hotel. "Don't be here," I felt her lips tremble, "we're being watched." I didn't repeat my request, the front desk was looking for me, and I was happy to have something to distract me. As I was taking the keys, the waiter handed me a note in German: Turgut called and asked me to call back. Helen was waiting.I called, and Turgut answered in a low voice, quickly switching to English, "Paul, Hush! Thank goodness for calling. I have news for you—important news!" "My heart beat in my throat, "You found—" map?cemetery?Rossi? "No, my friends, there have been no such miracles. But the letter Selim found has been translated, which is astonishing. It was written by an Orthodox priest in Istanbul in 1477. You Can you hear me?" "Yes!" I yelled, so loudly that the waiter stared at me. Helen looked at me anxiously, "Go ahead." "In 1477. There's more. I think it's important that you follow the clues of this letter. When you come back tomorrow, I'll show you the letter. Will you?" "Okay!" I yelled, "but did that letter say they buried—him—in Istanbul?" Helen shook her head. I knew what she was thinking—the phone might be tapped. "I don't know from the letter yet," Turgut buzzed. "I'm not sure where he's buried, but it's unlikely to be here. I think you'll have to prepare for a new journey. Need the assistance of that kind aunt." Despite the sound of electricity, I could hear his dark tone. "A new trip? But where?" "To Bulgaria!" Turgut shouted from afar. I stared at Helen, the phone slipped out of my hand, "Bulgaria?"