“What is it?” I started to undo the leather strap.
He placed his hands over mine. Warmth flooded me from his touch. “Open it later. You’ll understand when you’re back in your world.”
“I can’t go back. Didn’t you hear? Dracula’s out there. He’s killed all my friends and probably Mum, too. And I have no way of stopping him. Your last letter was bloody useless, by the way.Bring the wine.What was that about?”
Homer smiled.
“That’s his dreadful sense of humor. I have something for you, too.” Victoria led me back into the main room, where she lifted a heavy object from behind the bed and placed it in my hands. The lamplight glinted off a shimmering blade.
“It’s a Greekxiphos, with a vein of silver running down the center of the blade. It’s been quenched in the waters of Meles to lend it extra powers.” Victoria smiled. “I haven’t spent my life hanging around occult masters without learning a thing or two about slaying vampires.”
I stared down at the object. “I don’t know how to use a sword.”
“I think you underestimate yourself,” she said gently. “After all, you’ve been part of a vampire-slaying once before,Mina.”
Mina.
I swallowed.Mina. Mina Harker. The heroine of Bram Stoker’s novel.
My father had given me my legacy, wrapped up in my name and my blood and my wonky eyes.
I stepped back from Victoria and swung the sword through the air. It nicked the edge of the bedspread, slicing through the silken threads to leave a tattered gasp. Victoria gave a sharp intake of breath.
“Oops.” I shrugged.
My father burst out laughing. “You truly are my daughter.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake.” Victoria shoved me toward the door. “Stop destroying my belongings and skewer that vampire.”
“Wait, you haven’t told me how to help my friends, and I haven’t even said goodbye—”
I only caught the faintest glimpse of my father’s sad smile before Victoria yanked the door open and shoved me through. I stumbled forward, holding Quoth’s still body against my chest as I toppled into the gloom. I threw my hand out to catch my fall…
…my hand that still held the sword…
The blade slid into something solid like a knife cutting butter.
I opened my eyes to see without seeing the unmistakable figure of Dracula toppling to the floor. The scream that rose from his lips was inhuman, a noise that could tear the world asunder.
His eyes rolled back in his head as his hands grabbed for the sword. But he couldn’t seem to touch it. The skin around the wound bubbled and hissed as it burned away, leaving a gaping cavity that smoked and sizzled.
I drew back my hand, sliding the weapon out of his chest. “That was for hurting my friends, and this…” I thrust the weapon forward again, working the blade between Dracula’s ribs as his face twisted with agony. “This is for Heathcliff and Morrie.”
The burning smell increased as the blade hit home. Dracula’s body shuddered as I drove the sword through his heart. His scream was on some other frequency – it wasn’t just sound anymore, it had form and mass. It crushed against my ears and squeezed at my chest. It was the greatest sound I ever heard.
“And this,” I screamed over him as I drew back the blade. “This is for hurting my little bird.”
Dracula’s cry cut off abruptly as I swung the blade through his neck, severing his head. His skin shriveled and his eyes and nose disintegrated, and his body crumpled to the floor in a pile of ash and bone.
I collapsed to my knees beside the remains, dropping the sword at my side. I nuzzled Quoth’s body to my face, feeling the last twitches of his life leaving him. I pressed my lips to his cold head. “I love you. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.”
“Nyah…”
Footsteps boomed in the hallway.
No. No more.
I swallowed back my tears and launched myself at the shadow, swinging my blade at my approximation of its head.
