Vulpis
Victor traded his hearty clothes for thinner fare, better for the Mediterranean. He spent a few days with a solicitor, puzzling through the final details regarding the Frankenstein estate. Then he took his leave of this place.
He could feel the health beginning to drift from him again. Not as fast as it had when he first joined souls with Elias or after Willem, but enough for him to notice.
Brogan had brought him back to where he’d been when he’d first landed in France. Victor now felt the way he did when he’d walked out of Bradley King’s home.
By his estimation, he should be right back where he started or worse by the time he managed to get to Russia. Which was all the better, as that was the last place he could go.
Even if he’d made it that far in full health, there wouldn’t be anything but death left for him after that.
At the very least, he was mildly sure Elias wouldn’t beat him to death like that other guy had. It was important to be able to sort through things with him in person, even if the thought of seeing his face again still filled Victor with fear.
Every time he thought about his family, his anger spiked at Elias.
But that rage immediately faded into guilt.
Whenever he imagined his mother’s face or his little brother laughing, he was forced to also think about Magda whispering, “He’ll share his cake with you, if you want,” about her shy elder brother.
Hear the echoes of Elias and his family enjoying their dinner together.
See the warmth of the light from their home on the frosted ground.
It made Victor want to bash his head against the train window until his brains slopped everywhere. But instead, he just sat very still and continued to try to avoid eye contact with the unaccompanied young woman sharing his cabin.