Page 19 of The Shadow of the Count
“No! Help! Help, please!” Surely someone could hear him, could understand his desperation.
The door to the home never opened, though, no matter how he screamed, or how close he got. They were going to take him, and he felt cold fingers on the nape of his neck, ready to snatch him back to the castle.
“No! Please. In God’s name.”
He heard a shrill scream when he invoked that name, and the door flew open, light spilling out. Something metal went flying by his head, missing him by inches, and then a man stood there, holding out a hand to him.
“Come, Peter! Only you are welcome here!”
“Yvgeny!” He threw himself at his friend, grateful that someone had delivered him here.
Yvgeny yanked him inside and slammed the door shut, throwing the bolt, which looked positively medieval. “Oh, my friend. You look terrible.”
“Help me. Yvgeny, they’re evil. Pure evil.” He fell to his knees, his head spinning.
“The sisters.” Yvgeny said it as if he really knew, as if he understood. “Have they bitten you?”
“No. No, I ran.” Don had saved him. That portrait. The thought of his lover, waiting for him in London.
“Good. Good. You are weak, though.” Yvgeny lifted him up, then took him to the hearth and helped him to sit.
“The count. He locked me and left me to starve. He’s traveling.”
“Yes. We all fear him, but we dread when he leaves, for then the sisters are unchecked. There is a healer at the abbey not far from here. I will take you there in the morning.”
“We’re safe here?” He felt so shaken, so desperate.
Yvgeny nodded. “You must invite them in. They cannot enter a home without permission.”
“I see.” He didn’t, but he believed Yvgeny. So he slumped against the wall behind the bench he sat on.
An older man came and stared at him, then walked over and lifted his chin, forcing his head up.
Peter’s eyes widened, but he didn’t shrink away. This was clearly Yvgeny’s elder.
Yvgeny and the man had a fast, firm discussion, and then the old man turned and left the room. “My father says you can stay.”
“Thank you.” What would he have done had they turned him out? Nausea filled him. Die. That was what he would do. Those women… They wanted to eat him.
“Be at ease. You are safe here.” Yvgeny reached out for him.
He started. “Sorry. Sorry, I—Thank you.” He could rest. For the first time in so long.
“Let me make you something to eat, get you some milk.” Yvgeny moved away, putting some distance between them.
“Thank you.” He felt as if he’d upset Yvgeny, and he hated it, but all he could think about was Don. “The count. He had a portrait in his main hall. It… It looked like my very good friend.”
Yvgeny frowned. “How can that be?”
“I don’t know. They could be twins. It gave me chills.”
“Do not go back there, friend. It is an evil place.”
“No. No, I brought what I could carry, and all my books and things are in Los Angeles. I can replace my clothing and kit bag.” He had Don’s picture, his good pen, and his travel documents. Plus a few documents from the count’s home.
A letter detailing the instructions for the manor the count had purchased was in his trousers. Someplace called Carmilla Abbey. He would find it. After he went to Don.
He looked down at his hands, which shook hard.
