Chapter 34
Shadows towered above them as they walked down the corridor.
The wind howled through the cracks of the walls, masking the soft footfalls of the figure as they navigated through the stone halls.
They turned down another pathway, moonlight spilling in from windows high above, revealing a man crouched on the moss-slicked floor at the end of the hallway.
The stranger’s head was bowed, and his hands were clasped in prayer. He whispered, his words indistinct, but he uttered them with such fervor, such devotion, that he didn’t notice their arrival. Satisfaction coursed through them at the sight of the pathetic creature.
As they neared, the man seemed to sense them suddenly. His whispers ceased, his head raising slightly, and his eyes slowly crawled toward them with a mixture of awe and fear.
He whispered then, “The master has returned.”
Mina woke with a gasp. The blackness was all around her, swallowing her whole, and she couldn’t take a breath, couldn’t force air into her lungs. But as her eyes caught sight of the open windows, the snow-covered trees outside, she stilled.
She was not in the dungeon.
Yet her body struggled to grasp this reality—her heart racing, sweat on her brow as her memory returned painfully slow.
Mina climbed out of bed, stumbling over to the window and pulling open the shutters, pressing her palms against the cold glass.
She was free.
She was safe.
But still, she clung to this piece of evidence—the sight of the snow before her.
And as relief slowly found her, something else filled its place.
Concern.
The dream—had it been a dream? It was so vivid, yet it was unlike any dream she’d had before. It hadn’t even felt like it was her eyes she was seeing through, but someone else’s.
When she finally returned to bed, sinking onto the mattress, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was no ordinary dream, but something more.
***
Despite the lack of sleep, Mina awoke the next morning feeling restless.
With the sun barely peering over the horizon, she and Van Helsing said their goodbyes to Quincey and took Cinder down the mountain.
They kept a quick pace, neither of them speaking as they navigated through trees and rocks.
Eventually, they reached a dirt road, and Mina’s chest tightened at being so exposed.
When the worry became too much, she found herself asking, “Do you think he knows?” She didn’t need to clarify who she spoke of—Van Helsing knew.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Surely no letter could have reached him yet, but I don’t know what other means of communication they have access to.”
Mina frowned, her eyes fixed on the scene before, the snow thinning out the further down the mountain they got. “What do you mean by that?”
He sighed, a sound she’d become much accustomed to. “I have reason to believe the Count can . . . communicate with the wives. Some sort of occult psychic connection. Though I have no evidence of that. It’s just a theory from my time studying them and others like them.”
Mina turned around, fear moving through her. “Others? You mean there are other vampires?”
“Certainly,” Van Helsing said, not looking down at her. “You thought the Count was the first?”
She faced forward again. “Well, no, I suppose not.” She hadn’t known what to think of it all. Even after all she’d seen, it still seemed unfathomable that it could truly be real. That such creatures could roam the earth at all, let alone take the form of a handsome nobleman.
She couldn’t help but think about the dream from the night prior—the intensity of it, the strangeness of it.
As though she were seeing something through someone else’s eyes.
Had that been a communication from the Count?
It couldn’t have been—it had revealed nothing to her of where he was.
All she could remember was darkness and stone, and that strange man she’d never before witnessed.
She knew she should tell Van Helsing, but he’d been so resistant to tell her anything, to give her even a glimpse of what he knew, that she decided to hold onto it for the time being, to use it as leverage.
Perhaps if she had been more intentional and less trusting before now, she would have never ended up in this position.
They were silent the rest of the trip, the weather shifting from winter to autumn—a reminder that they were getting farther and farther from the castle, putting more distance between her and her prison.
Eventually, she saw a village in the distance, the muffled noise of people growing louder and louder as they approached. As their horse led them down the main road of Bistritz, Mina felt a chill run down her spine.
The last time she was here was with Jonathan, back when the innkeepers had tried to warn them. Mina swallowed, regret spilling through her at the memory. But why hadn’t they been more specific in their warnings? Why hadn’t they told her of the beast that the Count truly was?
But then again, would she have believed them? She’d seen it with her own eyes and it was still difficult for her to truly believe, even now.
“We’ll trade out the horse here so we can travel through the evening,” Van Helsing said, leading them to a small cottage.
He helped her off the horse, and her eyes caught on the inn just down the road. She hesitated for only a moment, but then her feet were moving of their own accord.
“Where are you going?” Van Helsing called.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, her eyes fixed on the inn. She moved through a group of people walking by and was nearly trampled by a horse making its way, but her heart raced as she reached the edge of the small yard.
A cold chill washed over her and she crossed her arms, feeling nausea climb up her throat. The front door was open, and as she walked down the stone path, the woman appeared in the doorway. At first, she didn’t seem to see Mina there, but then the woman froze, fear crossing her face.
The woman lifted the crucifix that hung around her neck, and Mina instinctively reached for the one the woman had given her, but it was gone.
“I just—” Mina began. “I’m not—”
The woman began praying fiercely in Romanian.
“Please, I mean you no harm.”
And then there was a touch behind her, and she looked over to find Van Helsing there.
“She thinks you’re . . . not yourself,” Van Helsing said.
Mina’s heart fell as the realization sank in—they believed she was a vampire. Strigoi.
“It’s still me,” Mina said. “I’ve seen things in the castle. Your warnings, they were correct. Anything you can share—” She took a step forward, but a deep voice grumbled from behind.
“Stay back.”
Mina turned to find the woman’s large husband behind them on the yard, a shotgun pointed at them.
“There’s no need for that,” Van Helsing said, lifting his hands. “She simply wanted to ask some questions.”
“We have no answers,” the man replied, the gun fixed to Mina.
Van Helsing grasped Mina by the arm and pulled her away.
“Please,” she called back. “It’s not what you think.” People were staring now, each of them looking at her warily.
Van Helsing yanked her forward, lowering his voice. “Unless you want to get us killed, may I ask that you stop talking?”
She shot a glare at him. “They truly think I’m a—”
“Yes,” he cut in, still dragging her along. He lowered his voice. “Unless you want to see what they do to those creatures, keep quiet and get on the horse.”
Mina felt the weight of many gazes as Van Helsing helped her onto their new horse. As they began down the road, her eyes flicked to the inn, to where the couple was still watching her with distrust.
“I understand what they think of the Count,” she said, “but why did they think I was one of them?”
“Because no one goes to the castle without either being turned or killed.”
Her mind flickered to Sofia, her life taken before her. Then she thought of Vasile, the driver. Had he been a vampire as well?
“How would one know? How can you tell if someone is a vampire?”
He sighed, his eyes fixed forward as the horse’s pace picked up. “It’s not always possible to tell. The things that give them away can often be disguised if they’re trying to deceive.”
“Such as?”
He was silent. With each passing moment, Mina felt the flames of anger grow within her. How had she gone through all of this only to be—once again—treated like a child by every man she encountered? Was there something that foolish about her that they felt she couldn’t handle the truth?
“You truly won’t tell me?” she asked, agitation lacing her words.
He sighed. “You have spent many weeks with the Count. You are married to him. I can’t tell you something that might endanger others—”
“Endanger others?” she broke in. “Yes, we married, but it didn’t mean much considering he already had three wives.” She could feel herself losing her temper. “What is it you think I’ll do with the information? Run back to the man who is trying to kill me and tell him everything you shared?”
“He won’t kill you,” Van Helsing said.
“And how are you so sure of that?” she snapped.
“Because he would’ve done so already. He wants you for something, and it’s clear that hasn’t yet been achieved.”
She stilled, trying to make sense of his words.
She’d wondered about the Count’s motivations almost immediately after finding out about the arrangement.
And after finding out that he already had three wives, that question had only grown.
But what possible reason could he have for wanting her specifically?
“You said you rescued me,” she said, her voice low now, icy.
“And yet it is clear you plan for me to be reunited with the Count. It seems as though you are the one with a plan for me, Mr. Van Helsing.”She was unsurprised to find him silent at first. All they heard was the steady rhythm of the horses’ hooves and the creak of leather as they made their way down the road.
“I believe your reunion is unavoidable,” Van Helsing said finally.
“And why is that?”