Page 55 of The Shadow of the Count
“Let me adjust the screen.” She rolled the screen a bit so he could see Douglas, who was in a torturous looking mess of pulleys and braces.
“Douglas?”
His brother turned to stare at him, his eyes red and wet. This was no Hollywood drama. Douglas was in real distress. “I can’t feel my legs, brother.”
Donnie felt horror overtake him. “No. It has to be something swollen, pressing on something. It will be fine.”
“They don’t know. They’re trying to help. I—”
“No. No. You’re going to be okay. I know you will. Where is Charles? Peter? The rest?”
“Peter is on your other side, Donnie.” Douglas sighed. “They were roundly defeated at the abbey, and everyone should have been watching you.”
“What’s wrong with Peter?”
“They don’t know. He can’t speak. He hemorrhaged at his throat. Other than that, he has a badly broken arm.”
“He can’t…” Donnie swallowed hard. “What happened?”
“The count happened.” That was Jeb, who had obviously been in the hallway. “He started coughing up blood and everything went to hell.”
“Coughing up—” He peered at Peter, who was pale and still. “Peter?”
“He’s had something to help him sleep, buddy.” Jeb pulled a chair up. “I got you.”
“Clark and Richard are resting and contacting Grant. Yvgeny and Charles are about, keeping watch.”
“Keeping watch?” He felt as if his mind wasn’t working right, as if he was too weak to make it function.”
“Count killed Reynaud. He bit the hell out of you. He’ll be coming back for you,” Jeb said matter-of-factly. “And if he doesn’t, then I’m going after him. I don’t leave loose ends. I left the folks at your friend’s house well-armed, then came to guard y’all.”
“No. No, I know how you feel about loose ends.” His heart raced for a moment, his neck throbbing until he gagged with the pain.
“Breathe, Donnie. You have to breathe.” That was Douglas. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You need to heal.”
“All of us need that.” Douglas and Peter were down and out, and it felt like it was somehow his fault.
“We do. But you’re the one he bit, so you’re the one he’ll come after.” Jeb sighed. “You were supposed to die. You’re bound to him. At least you didn’t drink his blood.”
“No. Not that I know of, anyway.”
“Charles says he didn’t see it.”
“Then we’re good. What happens now?”
“We heal.” Douglas sounded utterly defeated. “What else can we do?”
“We’ll figure it, Donnie.” Jeb’s eyes flashed with promise, his jaw set. “He ain’t taking nothin’ else from us.”
“Is he going to be okay?” Donnie whispered.
“I seen folks come back from worse. You got to have faith.” Jeb had probably been through more than all of the rest of them put together, so that idea did give him some hope.
“What about Peter?”
“Well, Charles did okay with whatever mystical thing he had going on. The broken arm will just be dashing in a sling.”
Dashing. That idea combined with his Peter was…delicious and just the slightest bit funny.
