“Can you both either get a room or help me with this body?” Jo grabbed Fiona’s ankle.
Heathcliff threw Fiona over his shoulder and carried her inside. Robin appeared on the landing, an arrow notched on his bow. “Do you want me to put one between her eyes, M’lady?”
“No!” Jo threw herself in front of Fiona.
“What I want you to do is get out of my way.” Heathcliff swung his bulk up the staircase. Fiona kicked, knocking one of Quoth’s paintings to the floor.
Victor poked his head from the cellar door. His trousers were wet up past his knees. “Mina, you’re back. Good, good. I think I’ve worked out all the kinks now that my monster is back. Have you had a chance to speak with that plumber yet? It’s getting a little biblical down here.”
“Not now, Victor!” Books cascaded down on us as Fiona slammed her body against the shelves. Morrie pressed the crucifix into her forehead. She howled, clawing at his fingers to get it off her, but it kept her from destroying the shop.
“Take her to my bedroom,” I said. “We need Morrie’s restraints.”
As we maneuvered her into the flat, Fiona kicked a hole in the wall. Heathcliff held Fiona’s arms down while Morrie fastened her to the bed with his best bondage gear. She thrashed and jerked, but the restraints held fast.
“If Dracula’s been feeding from her, we need to make sure he can’t get in to take more blood,” I said. “I’d like an extra layer of protection. We need to vampire-proof this room.”
“Luckily, we’ve still got supplies.” Morrie disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a box of garlic. “I was going to make my famous garlic roast chicken this week, but we’ll just have to have a takeout curry instead.”
As the boys rushed about, bedecking the room with garlands of garlic and gluing crucifixes to the window, Jo buried her face into my shoulder. “I can’t bear to see her like this.”
“I’m sure everything will be okay. We’ll find a way to reverse what he did to her.” But even as I said the words, I knew neither of us believed them. We’d both read the novel. We both knew what happened to the victims who shared Dracula’s blood. Fiona had risen from the dead – was she fully a monster now, or did some small part of her humanity remain?
Chapter Fifteen
Between Fiona’s toe-curdling shrieks and Jo hogging all the blankets, I hardly slept a wink that night. I loved my best friend, but I didn’t love her bony elbows in my ribcage. Quoth’s bed was far too small for two people who weren’t lovers, but it was the only sane option. I refused to sleep in Heathcliff’s bed because it was impossible to find beneath the pile of junk in his room, and the walls in Morrie’s storage room were so thin we’d be kept up all night by Socrates recording his philosophical TikToks.
It didn’t help that Quoth didn’t come home at all. I called and texted him to tell him what happened, and all he did was send me a gif ofBuffy the Vampire Slayer.
I didn’t want cute pop culture gifs. I wanted my birdhome, in my arms. I wanted him towantto be home.
If I did sleep, it was too fast and too deep to experience one of my Dracula dreams. Which was just as well – I didn’t think I could bear living through another night of tasting the blood of my friends or lovers on my tongue.
When I checked on Fiona in the morning, she’d settled into a fitful sleep. My room smelled like an Italian restaurant.
“Coffee.” Morrie materialized at my side, holding a tray bursting with togo cups. He didn’t look like he’d slept much better.
I accepted a cup. “It’s a pity you can’t hook this to my veins.”
Downstairs, I packed up our book selection for our Witch’s Market stall – fun children’s books likeMeg and Mog, some classic horror fiction, spooky short story collections, Emily the Strange novels…anything that fit the Halloween theme. I stacked one box into Oscar’s cart, and Morrie helped me carry the remaining boxes across the green. Stallholders set up around the perimeter, while in the center stood the towering bonfire, unlit until the final eve of the festival. On top of the pile of sticks and wood, someone had crafted a crude figure of a man from lengths of wicker. It was vaguely unsettling, but burning wicker effigies was part of British folklore, and I knew the toasted marshmallows would taste amazing.
While I arranged our table, Quoth fluttered down from the tree and settled into one of the boxes. “Croak?”
“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.” I slammed down a stack of books. “Why didn’t you come home last night? Jo needed you.”
I needed you,I thought, but then remembered he could hear my thoughts.
I’m sorry. I truly thought you wanted me to text. Professor Sang was showing me this new brush technique. If you’d asked me to come home, I would have, but you didn’t ask. You were asking between the words but I was too sleepy and distracted to see it. I truly am sorry.
I sighed. I couldn’t stay angry at Quoth, especially when he apologized so sincerely.That’s my bad, too. I should have been clearer. For two people who can talk telepathically, we need to work on our communication skills.
It’s my fault, Mina. I’m so tired I wasn’t thinking clearly. This will only be for a couple more days, until the opening, then everything will be better, I promise.
“I know. I love you and I’m so proud of you.” I held open the flap of the box. “Why don’t you come out in the sunshine? I’m sure the villagers would love to see you.”
Quoth shook his head, burying his face under his wing.Can I just sleep in here? I want to be close to you, but not deal with people quoting that poem at me.
“Deal.” I set the box down in the shade. Oscar loped over and lay down next to it, peering in at his friend.
