“How did you know?” Mina asked suddenly.
“Hm?” he replied, sounding far from eager to hear the answer.
“About Clarimonde,” she said. “That she was . . . not human?”
He exhaled deeply, but did not respond right away.
Several moments passed, and she wondered if he was going to ignore her entirely. Then he said, “I’ve known about them for years.”
Mina waited for more, but when nothing came, she pressed on. “Them?So you know about the Count as well?”
The man only grunted in agreement.
“And do you think they’ll come after me?” She felt him tense behind her, and for the first time in some while, a fresh wave of fear washed through her.
“The wives are under Dracula’s command,” he said, the reins tight in his hands as he led the horse into a clearing. “Unless he’s instructed them otherwise, I don’t believe they’ll leave the grounds—though I don’t know how far their leash truly extends.” There was unmistakable distaste in his voice. Then he added, “But the Count will come after you. Of that, I am certain.”
The wind rose as they stepped out of the forest and onto the snow-covered path that had once led Mina to the Count just weeks earlier. She looked out at the trees dusted in white, the mountains closing in on all sides, and could not help but marvel at the stark beauty of it. Now and then the wind groaned through the branches, and each time she glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting to find a pair of eyes staring back at her.
The horse trudged onward, his hooves slipping at times in the depth of the snow. They carried on for some while, and thesteady motion of the horse, coupled with the warmth of Van Helsing just behind her, began to soften Mina’s resolve. She had felt such a surge of terror during the escape, but now, threading through the snowy woods, knowing the wives were unlikely to pursue them this far, and that the Count was away, her eyelids grew heavy.
More than once, she drifted toward sleep before jolting awake, her heart clenching as she realized how close she’d come to sliding from the saddle. She hoped Van Helsing would catch her if it happened. She fought against the pull of exhaustion, but even the cold wind cutting past them could not shake the fatigue from her bones.
The gloom deepened overhead, the unseen sun sinking somewhere beyond the mountains.
“Is it safe to be in these mountains at night?” she asked.
“We’re nearly there,” he said.
She glanced at the trees closing in around them, seeing no sign of any town or village.
“Nearly where?” she whispered.
Before he could answer, a howl split the forest.
Then another.
A chill ran down Mina’s spine as Van Helsing clicked his tongue, urging the horse into a quicker pace.
Branches snapped to the left. Mina looked over her shoulder, alarm rising in her chest.
A howl sounded to the right, and as she turned, she caught a flash of grey moving through the trees.
“They’re surrounding us,” she said.
A growl sounded nearby.
Her thoughts leapt back to that first journey up the mountain—the wolves seeming to surround the carriage in the dark—and her heart hammered against her ribs.
“Don’t panic,” he said.
Van Helsing pushed the horse faster, and it surged forward, maneuvering over rocks and frozen earth masked by snow. Trees blurred together on either side.
And then something else came into view. Just beyond the forest.
The roofline of a cabin.
Van Helsing put two fingers to his lips and whistled. Mina startled at the sharp sound so close to her ear, already drawing breath to chastise him—when a second whistle answered from somewhere ahead.
