Chapter 37
She belongs to him.
The words rang through Mina’s mind as they drove back to London.
It was the same thing the Count had told her—he owned everything in that castle, including each of his wives.
But how had Renfield known that unless he truly had come in contact with the Count?
Which meant that the dream she’d had, the dream which had felt like seeing things through someone else’s eyes, had been real.
“I must pose a question to you, Miss Murray,” Dr. Seward said, turning in his seat to look at her. “I understand this may seem unorthodox, or perhaps, even somewhat inappropriate—”
“Please,” Mina cut in. “Just ask.”
“In your time at Castle Dracula, did the Count ever . . . feed from you?”
Mina frowned. “Feed from me?” The other men avoided her gaze, and it took a moment before she realized what he meant.
She thought of Sofia, of the way the Count had held her to him, drinking from her throat, before killing her.
A shiver ran down her spine at the memory.
“No. The Count never did. However, there was a moment, briefly, when the wives attacked me.” She swallowed, the sensation of sharp teeth sinking into her flesh returning.
Van Helsing stared at her, disbelief behind his eyes. “But the Count didn’t?”
Mina blinked, agitated. “No, he didn’t. Why is that so difficult to believe?”
“I think you know the answer to that after what we just heard,” Van Helsing replied.
She swallowed, remembering what he had mentioned so briefly a few days prior—that the Count seemed to be able to communicate with his wives psychically.
“I believe what Mr. Van Helsing is trying to say,” Dr. Seward intervened, “is that it seems peculiar that the Count had you in his care for weeks, and yet never fed from you. Especially given this . . . dream of yours that seems to have been very much more than a dream.”
Mina felt warmth flush to her cheeks. “I told you, I have no memory of such a thing. I don’t know how to explain the dream. It was unlike any dreams I had while at the Castle.”
The men went quiet for a moment, and she had the sinking sensation that she’d failed somehow. She’d insisted on coming with them, and yet what had she offered aside from more confusion?
“How very strange,” Dr. Seward said.
The group fell into silence after that. Mina’s mind spun with questions, the most pressing of them being: why her?
By the time they returned to the townhouse, night had long befallen London.
The streets were quiet as Mina stepped out from the carriage, and she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder, down the road into the darkness.
The Count was here, in London. Did he know of her arrival?
After what she’d seen from Mr. Renfield, it seemed he must know.
But the thought of him being somewhere near sent a chill down her spine.
Despite her earlier protestations, as she walked up to the front door of Lucy’s home, fatigue weighed heavily upon her.
After so many days of travel, and the constant anxiety of the situation, she was exhausted.
And yet, as Dr. Seward knocked on the front door of Lucy’s home, moments passing as they waited on the step, a creeping feeling sunk in.
The feeling that something was very wrong.
After some time of standing on the doorway without response, Van Helsing stepped up and tried the handle—the door was locked.
“It’s late,” Dr. Seward offered. “Perhaps they’re all asleep.”
“The lights are still on,” Van Helsing said. He knocked so loudly that a neighbor from a few houses over shouted through their window to quiet down. He looked to Mina and Dr. Seward then. “I’m going to need the two of you to back up.” They exchanged looks and each took a step back. “Further.”
Mina and Dr. Seward walked down the handful of steps to the pavement, looking up at the scene with intrigue. They watched as Van Helsing kicked the door open.
As they went up the stairs, all was eerily quiet. Mina tried to convince herself that they were probably asleep—though she wondered where Jonathan was and what he was doing. She found the answer upon opening the door to Lucy’s bedroom.
The room was dark, but the window was open, the curtains flapping wildly in the icy wind. For the briefest of moments, she wondered why on earth they would open the window, and then her eyes fell to the glint across the floor, large chunks of glass reflecting the moonlight outside.
The window was shattered, and in the shadows below lay poor Mrs. Westenra, her eyes wide open yet unseeing, her body completely still.
Van Helsing and Dr. Seward rushed inside, but Mina’s mind struggled to make sense of what she saw. Jonathan lay slumped on the small settee before the fireplace, his eyes closed, his posture loose as though he were merely asleep.
Her gaze shifted to the bed, unable to find Lucy’s familiar form beneath the blankets.
She looked to Van Helsing, hoping he might contradict what her own eyes were telling her.
He met her gaze and said, “She’s gone.”