Mina froze, listening intently. Then she slowly looked up toward the window and realized what caused the sound: the sheets were tearing.
Either she could fall or jump.
Her heart thrummed painfully in her chest. She exhaled forcefully, knowing it would hurt when she hit the ground below. As long as she could reach the calèche and the horse, it would be okay. She would be free.
Mina gripped the sheet above her tightly as she released her feet and prepared to drop. Her grip weakened, her hands sliding down the sheet uncomfortably.
She fell through the night air.
Before she’d even reached the ground, regret crashed through her.
And then she hit the cobblestone. A jolt tore through her ankle, raced up her knee, and slammed into her back. She gasped, breath snagging in her chest. She tried to roll, but her ribs protested sharply, forcing a cry from her throat. Tears welled as she lay still at last, knowing any movement would only make it worse.
And then came a sound nearby—the scuffing of shoes against cobblestone.
“No,” she whimpered. She rolled onto her stomach, pain searing through her body, and she gritted her teeth.
Panic crashed through her as she looked through the shadows for her exit. She needed to get up, needed to go.
Suddenly, she was flipped onto her back, her head thumping against the stone. She groaned at the agony of her body.
“Must you make everything so difficult?”
Through her tears, she stared up, her vision blurry. It was her husband, towering above her. She squeezed her eyes shut, suddenly desperate for this to all be a bad dream. She couldn’t die here, not like this.
And then his voice came again, cold as the wind that washed over them. “You’ve left me no choice, wife.”
CHAPTER 28
London, England
The moon was high overhead, lighting the path as Renfield moved quickly through the night. Glee spilled through each step, and a laugh escaped his throat. He stopped suddenly, looking over his shoulder at the empty field around him, searching the shadows of the treeline for any sign of movement, listening for the crunch of footsteps. All he heard was the hush of the countryside. Satisfied that none had yet realized his escape from the asylum, Renfield carried on hobbling down the uneven footpath.
“I am coming, master,” he murmured, his breath coming out in a fog before his face. Beyond the tangle of trees along the path, the jagged silhouette of Carfax Abbey rose into the night. “Must obey. All will be well.”
A trembling laugh escaped him.
“All will be well,” he repeated, his voice lilting like a hymn as he stumbled through the shadows of the night.
As he approached the front door of the empty property, he paused, staring up at the stone walls of the abbey. With a deep breath, he pushed the heavy door open.
A groan cut through the quiet night, and he gave one last look over his shoulder to be sure he was alone. The master would not be pleased if he’d been followed here.
The wind howled, swaying the branches of the trees and making the shadows dance along the grass.
“All will be well,” Renfield whispered, scuttering inside the abbey.
He walked down the stone hallway, fumbling in the darkness with not a single light to guide him. He tripped, falling to his knees, and shouted at the ground for betraying him, beating his fists upon the stone in protest.
Eventually, his anger eased, his breath ragged. Then a smile came to his lips.
“The master is near,” he said softly.
Renfield set down the satchel he’d made from his yellowed pillowcase, unwrapping it like a Christmas present. One by one, he pulled out the small bodies, each creature stiff with death, and laid them in a row. He placed his palms on the cold stone and lowered himself until his lips nearly touched the floor, as though he were kneeling in prayer. He had no regard for the layer of filth that coated each stone.
“Master is coming,” he whispered. “All will be well. Master is coming.”
CHAPTER 29
