Chapter 4

Tim stood aside to allow Edwin access to the door.

“Can I help you?” Edwin asked warily. The old woman’s grey eyes bore into his blue ones with such an intensity, he felt unable to move; as if mesmerized. When he was finally able to gain control of his senses again, he said, “I’m Edwin Jacobson.”

“Then, ye are the one I seek,” she said firmly. “Please, come with me.”

Edwin was so taken aback that, at first, he simply stood staring at her in disbelieve with his mouth open. When she was half-way down the steps, she turned to face him with an expectant look.

“I’m sorry, lady, but I have no clue who you are, how you got here, how you knew I’d be here, or why you want me. What I do know is that I have no intentions of going anywhere with you,” Edwin said as he surveyed the grounds for what might have brought her to the cabin.

The caretaker had yet to plow the drive and the snow was far too deep for a horse to trek through. That left walking or a snowmobile. Not only hadn’t he heard a snowmobile approach, but there was no sign of one. To his recollection, the nearest dwelling was a few miles down the road. As feeble as she looked and sounded, he doubted she’d have been able to walk through the deep snow that far.

He studied her thick, rustic looking cloak. The hem was relatively snow free. He wasn’t an expert of cloth, but something told him that, had she trekked through the snow like his buddies just did, her cloak would have a coating of snow along the hem, if nowhere else.

“’Tis imperative that ye come with me, lad. Time is short,” she said with urgency.

“You’re not making any sense,” Edwin said as he monitored her closely. A psychiatrist by trade, he immediately shifted into working mode in order to assess the strange woman. “Please, come inside and we can discuss this further.”

The old woman eyed him warily before heaving a deep sigh and climbing back up the steps.

“Seems ‘tis the only option,” she muttered as she boldly slipped past him.

Once inside, she quickly removed her cloak and hung it on a hook near the door. After which, she made her way to the fire and extended her hands toward its warmth.

The three friends remained motionless - as if in shock- while they stared at her in disbelief. She’d entered as an old, almost crone-like female, but, little by little, as her body was warmed by the fire, her appearance reversed in age. By the time she turned to face them, her long grey-streaked hair was a rich, dark auburn, her steel grey eyes were a softer grey, her wrinkled skin was as smooth as porcelain and her carriage was no longer bent. She’d gone from looking like a crooked and gnarled ninety-year old woman to a lithe and beautiful female in her mid- twenties.

“What the hell just happened?” Mark asked in a hushed tone.

“I.. have.. no.. clue,” Tim stammered in an equally hushed voice.

“My name is Agatha Cooper,” she said in a clear, crisp voice. “I have very little time to explain things, so I require that ye listen carefully.” She waited to be certain she had their attention before continuing. When no one objected or even uttered a sound, she said, “I am a witch come to the future to help save a lass from a wicked vampire.”

“What the hell, Edwin? Is this one of your patients escaped?” Mark snapped.

“Ye have patients? Ye are a physician?” Agatha said with a twinkle in her eye. “’Tis good to know.”

“I am a psychiatrist,” Edwin explained patiently. “A doctor of the mind.”

“Ye think I am addled?” she asked firmly. “Do ye not believe in witches? After burning so many women for being a witch, ye now think me addled because I claim to be one? ‘Tis not I who needs a doctor for the mind.” Her voice was filled with disgust and her eyes with a mixture of urgency and anger. “I have no time for such nonsense. There is an evil vampire on his way. We must free Kira and flee before he arrives.”

“Where’s the whiskey?” Mark asked as he started from the chair to fetch it. To his shock and surprise - as well as that of his friends- Agatha raised her hand, swirled her fingers, and said something in a language they didn’t understand. Mark was immediately frozen in place. The only thing he was able to move was his head. “What the fuck?”

“I did not freeze thy mouth, young man, as I need all minds to focus on what to do, but if ye insist on such foul language, I will do so,” Agatha warned. “Now, please pay attention. Time is short.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I come from the year 1692. I am a witch. A vampire turned a lovely young lass who was my friend and my protégé, into a vampire. She escaped him before he was able to complete the claiming of her and came to me for aid. I have done what is possible to protect her, but now I require thy assistance.”

“I’m confused,” Tim mumbled. “Agatha, is it?”

When she nodded, he said, “Please forgive me, but this is a lot to take in. Do you know what year it is now?”

“By the look of thy attire, I assume I am in the future,” she said boldly. “Pray tell. What year might this be?”

“It is the year two-thousand-seventeen,” Edwin said softly.

Agatha emitted a low whistle. “’Tis no wonder my shield weakens. Curse these vampires for their longevity of life.”

“Pardon my ignorance,” Edwin said, “but, by vampire, you mean a blood sucker with fangs. Right?”

“Did thy family not educate thee on thine history?” she asked with surprise.

“I’m sorry,” Edwin said. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. Why would my family history have anything to do with vampires?”

“The vampire we seek to avoid is thy long lost relative, Lord Malcolm Jameson,” she said matter-of-factly.

All three men gasped in disbelief, after which, it turned quiet enough to hear if a pin dropped on the braided oval rug beneath their feet.

“This is insane,” Mark grumbled as he struggled to get his body back into motion. “What’s happening, really? Tim, did you hire this woman as a magician to pull a gag on us?”

“I wish that was the case,” Tim said with remorse.

“Do you actually believe this insanity?” Mark asked with surprise.

“You were immobilized by the flick of her hand and a few indiscernible words,” Tim offered. “She turned from an old crone to a young beauty before our very eyes.”

Agatha gasped at Tim’s mention of her being a crone, only to smile and almost purr when he referred to her as a young beauty.

“Do you believe this shit too?” Mark asked Edwin.

“I don’t know what to believe. She did show up out of nowhere asking for me,” he replied. “How did she know about me? Why aren’t you able to move? How did she go from old to young? There’s something out of the ordinary going on here. Something inexplainable.”

“I have hidden Kira beneath ground, but, with the shield weakening, he will be able to locate her soon. There is also the matter of getting her out before the shield depletes,” Agatha said with emphasis.

“What?” Tim bellowed.

“Are you saying you buried a girl?” Mark exclaimed.

“Dear god,” Edwin said as he grabbed his coat from the back of a chair and put it on. “We have to dig her up.”

“That is what I have been trying to say,” Agatha grumbled.

She assessed the men as she released her hold on Mark and he fell back onto the chair cushion. A scowl of annoyance consumed his proud, aristocratic face. Of Nordic descent, Mark was the largest of the three friends. He stood six-feet-four-inches with strong, muscular thighs and a big barreled chest. When he wasn’t working at his law practice, he was in the gym lifting weights. He had a comely face with a square jaw. As symmetry goes, his hazel eyes were just a little too close together. Yet they somehow looked perfectly set over his straight nose.

Tim was the shortest of the three. Measuring five-feet-eleven inches in his stocking feet, he was trim and muscular, yet limber and strong. Always up for an adventure and not prone to shying away from danger, he’d suffered his fair share of injuries. Fortunately, the scars he sported were on his body and not on his face. Although, more than once, he’d stated that a scar or two might add character to what most considered an average looking face. His brown eyes, brown hair, normally arched brows, straight nose, and slender lips did nothing to make him stand out in a crowd. In fact, he blended in quite nicely. This may be desirable to most, but to a stuntman and aspiring actor, it was anything but.

Edwin was by far the handsomest of the three. With sandy hair and brilliant blue eyes, he stood tall at six-feet-two-inches. His face was full, but not fat, with distinctive cheekbones and a jaw that was almost -but not quite- square. His slender lips displayed a set of perfectly straight teeth and his nose matched the thickness of his face. His broad chest and shoulders were accentuated by his narrow hips. She could see his well-formed muscles as he twisted his body to pull on his hunting parka. She believed Kira would be pleased to discover that he was a Jameson. At least, she hoped she would.