“You’re an innocent little one, aren’t you?” the dark-haired woman said. “We won’t hurt her,” she said, still talking to the woman in the doorway. “We just want a taste.” Her lip reared back to reveal the same fangs as the other woman’s, and before Mina could even utter a scream, the woman had pulled her into an embrace, sinking her teeth into Mina’s neck.
Pain surged through her, making her eyes water. She tried to push back, to force the woman off her, but her grip was too strong. Then came another sharp pain at her wrist—the other woman. Mina’s vision faded, pain running through her as she felt herself grow weaker and weaker.
Glass shattered, and suddenly both women released her. Mina fell to the ground, her vision hazy as she looked at the ceiling above and saw nothing but bats. One after another, flapping their long wings, screeching as they dove. Mina heardthe cries of the women elsewhere in the room, their shrieks of pain and anger as though the bats had set their sights on them.
And as Mina’s vision faded to darkness, she heard a familiar voice by her side.
“My dearest, Wilhelmina.”
CHAPTER 26
The world was dark, quiet. The only sound nearby was the crackling of a fireplace. But Mina couldfeelthe presence of something else in the room, even before she opened her eyes. Flashes of memories played through her mind—the women, their cruel smiles, fangs, the sting of teeth sinking into her flesh, then that crash of glass before bats filled the air.
“She’s awake,” a voice said. It was not the voice of her husband, nor was it Sofia, which could only mean one thing. Those women were here, in this room.
Mina peeled her eyes open, finding herself in the same position she’d been in on her wedding night. But this time, Jonathan wasn’t near, and she was surrounded by strangers who could not be trusted.
The Count stepped into her line of vision, his brows drawn as he looked down at her. He sighed, crouching down to her eye level. He brushed the hair out of her face, his voice soft as he asked, “What were you doing in the north wing?”
Mina froze. She felt like a child caught in a lie, deciding which path to pursue—honesty and the punishment that camewith it, or deception with a hope of freedom? But then another thought occurred to her—was this truly her husband’s first question for her after all that had happened?
A hefty sigh spilled through the room, and the Count’s eyes flitted somewhere beyond her.
He grasped onto Mina’s arms gently and eased her up into a seated position. Pain pulsed through her neck and she flinched, reaching toward it, only to find a bandage had been applied.
“That will heal shortly,” he said.
She shot him a glare, anger coursing through her suddenly. “I sincerely doubt that.”
“Poor thing,” a sarcastic voice said. Mina turned slowly, looking over her shoulder to see the three women there as well. The dark-haired woman was sitting at the desk, her eyes fixed on Mina. “She looks so fretful,” the woman went on, “like a baby deer caught in a trap.”
The redhead giggled from where she sat atop the desk. In the back of the room, Mina found the blonde woman, looking as though she hadn’t wanted to be here at all and was still considering her escape.
Mina turned to the Count, a swell of emotions coursing through her.
“Who are they?” Mina asked. “How long have they been here?” She wasn’t sure what she’d hoped to see in his blue eyes—perhaps guilt, perhaps pity, shame, embarrassment, but his eyes were blank as though speaking to a stranger.
“No need to speak of us as though we’re not in the room,” the redhead said, agitation laced in her words. “I thought the British were supposed to have manners.”
“That’s a rumor, darling,” the dark-haired woman responded.
“Enough.” The Count’s voice cut through the room, and both women went quiet. He looked at Mina then, taking her hand in his, his eyes softening now as though he were about to utter a proclamation of love. Even before he spoke the words, she knew she did not want to hear them. “These are your sisters.”
“My . . . sisters?” The word made her stomach churn. Surely he couldn’t be implying . . .
“Yes,” he said, pride in his tone, as though this were an achievement. “My wives.”
Mina stared at him, feeling as though he was a stranger before her. Why would he ever think she would be okay with such a thing? She pulled her hand out of his.
“That can’t be,” she said. “We had a ceremony. With a priest. That would be—that would be bigamy.”
A heavy sigh came from behind them. “Truly, I don’t understand what you see in her,” the redhead said. “She has all thejoie de vivreof Jane Eyre, for God’s sake.”
“You were in her very spot once upon a time.” The voice was from the blonde woman, standing against a back wall as thoughhoping to disappear into it. “You handled it quite poorly if I recall.”
Mina couldn’t see the look the redhead gave the blonde, but she could sense it was not one of warm regard.
“Iwas never this dull,” she said. The dark-haired woman snickered. “Or daft,” she went on. “I practically spelled it out for you with that book, and yet—” She paused, seeming to sense her error. The woman slowly glanced up, finding Dracula’s eyes on her.
