Where are Morrie and Heathcliff? Why aren’t they hearing all this?
I raced back toward the painting as Quoth circled around the room and made another dive at me. He moved slower, one wing dipping low, throwing him off course. But I moved slower, too. My fingers scrabbled inside my purse, popping the lid off my mother’s Vampire Vanishing Kit. I fished out the bottle of holy water and hurled it at the attacking bird.
It hit the wall behind him and exploded. Quoth dropped to the floor, writhing and crying as he flapped his wings listlessly in the puddle of sanctified water, but he was too weak to get up.
Oscar barked as he barreled for Quoth. I grabbed his lead and yanked him back, crying out the instruction for him to sit.If he gets his teeth around Quoth, he’ll kill him, and I…
I can’t say goodbye. Not yet. Not until I know there’s no other choice.
Tears streamed down my face. “Quoth, no, no, no.” Not my beautiful artist. Some part of him had to survive – the Quoth who painted these images could not want to turn me into a vampire.
Scenes from the Dracula books replayed in my head as I ripped a cage from the sculpture. It was a beautiful old Victorian thing, heavier than it appeared. As I stumbled toward Quoth, my head spun wildly and I had to drop it and put my head between my legs.I’m going to faint. I can’t do this. I’m going to faint…
Quoth dragged his wings along the floor as he hobbled toward me, making an angrynyuh-nyuh-nyuhnoise in his throat. Blood smeared across the floorboards, and my nightmare flashed before my eyes in vivid technicolor. Only this was a thousand times worse than my nightmare, because it wasQuothunder Dracula’s spell, his orange-rimmed eyes burning with vampiric hunger.
He unfurled his wings and managed to take off. The holy water had made him groggy, his flight path crooked. His beak opened wide as he dove straight for me.
“I’m sorry, Quoth,” I whispered, pressing my back against the wall, waiting for him to get close enough to make my move.
THWACK.
I ducked just in time. Quoth slammed into the wall at full speed. Feathers flew in all directions. He dropped to the floor, stunned. I could practically see tiny yellow birds flying around his head.
He lifted his beak, his eyes narrowed with a malice that didn’t belong to my beautiful Quoth. I lunged forward and slammed the cage over his body, scooping him inside and yanking the door shut.
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed. I leaned my full weight against the cage as Quoth flung his body at the sides. Oscar trotted over and snarled at him through the bars.
I managed to drag myself to my feet. With the cage in my arms, I cried out for Heathcliff and Morrie as I kicked the pieces of Quoth’s painting across the floor until they landed facedown in the holy water. Oscar helped by jumping on them, mashing the paint into the water and making a horrible mess of Quoth’s beautiful painting.
We’d neutralized Dracula’s final store of earth. Too bad it had come at such a cost.
While Quoth cried, I maneuvered the cage to the door, kicked it open, and toppled outside into the street.
The light from the gallery cast a rectangle across the front steps, where Heathcliff and Morrie stood, locked in a kiss so intense it could melt ice caps. No wonder they hadn’t heard my fight.
I wished I had time to celebrate their moment, but any second now I was going to lose my grip or pass out. “Quit snogging and help me! It’s Quoth! Dracula got to Quoth!”
Morrie and Heathcliff leaped apart like someone had set a bomb off between them. Morrie raked his fingers through his hair while Heathcliff sprang into action. He grabbed the cage from me, clasping it against his body to stop Quoth pushing the door open. “I’ll get him back to the shop.”
“What should I do?” Morrie cried.
“We need more vampire protections.” I jabbed my finger toward the market. “What we have for Fiona won’t be enough for both of them. Garlic, crosses, everything you can find. Go.”
Morrie took off in a jog, his long legs disappearing into the darkness. I hugged Oscar to my chest, burying my face in his soft fur. He seemed to sense what I needed, for he stayed completely still and let me hold him.
“Mina.” Heathcliff stood over me. “Can you walk?”
“I can make it to the shop…I think.” I gripped Heathcliff’s arm, and he half-dragged me across the green. As we rounded the corner, someone stepped out in front of us.
“Good evening, Mina, Heathcliff, Oscar. I’m afraid I can’t let you go anywhere near the shop,” Grey Lachlan said. He stepped toward us and curled his lips back into a smile, showing off his long, sharp fangs.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“You should see a dentist about that foul breath.” Heathcliff wrinkled his nose.
Grey laughed, the sound completely unhinged. “That gallows humor will get you into trouble one day, my dear fellow. But I really must insist you don’t go inside just yet. I’m to wait with you until my master is ready for you.”
His words sank in. “What are you talking about? Dracula can’t get into the shop. We’ve protected every entrance with garlic—”
