Page 17 of The Shadow of the Count
“I think he got overexcited. Let’s get him in bed, hmm? Perhaps some fruit to take with him? The sugar will do him good.”
“Of course.” Donnie helped Lyle up, steering him along.They got Lyle to his rooms and undressed. Then they tucked him in to the big, luxurious bed.
Lyle clutched his hand. “Stay with me?”
Donnie glanced at Richard, who nodded. “I’ll go have my breakfast. We can talk in a bit.”
“Thank you.” He held on and smiled at Lyle. “That was unnerving.”
“They were eyes, Donnie, and they were looking at us.” Lyle shook uncontrollably, lips pursed. “They were seeing us.”
“I thought I saw something, too, but perhaps it was only an illusion.” He knew better. He’d seen the dead rise from the sands of the Egyptian desert. That had been a malevolent presence, even if he didn’t want to admit it to Lyle. “You’re all locked in here, however. You’re just fine.”
“You know it wasn’t, Donnie. You know. Ithungered.”
“Shhh.” Lyle didn’t need to know the things Donnie did. About hunger and sharp teeth and what hid in the darkness. “You need to rest, love.”
“Yes. Yes, I’ve been taken by flights of fancy, haven’t I?” Lyle’s smile was a weak attempt, but he did try.
Richard, who had only retreated to the doorway, and Donnie shared a long, quiet look.
“Just sleep.” He petted Lyle’s brow until he fell into a fitful sleep, then joined Richard, motioning him out to the hall.
“What in God’s name is going on?” Richard’s eyes were huge, and Don found himself in the place again where he was the one giving comfort.
“I don’t know for sure, but I’ve been in several situations now where I know not to believe anything is coincidence. Omens are interconnected. Thank God my brother is coming. We’ll figure this out.”
“How does an actor assist in this situation?”
Donnie raised his eyebrow, pursing his lips. “Douglas is a man of experience. He understands there are things we can’t see or control.”
“Ah. I—I didn’t mean offense. I imagine playing roles—taking on another person’s mantle, so to speak—is incredibly handy for this sort of thing.”
“It is, I think. We’re a team, he and I. And perhaps…” Clark and Jeb had done well by them, but it had been months.
“Perhaps?”
They both jumped as the storm hit, the huge house seeming to shudder for a moment before it remembered itself and stood tall, bracing against the storm.
“I have a few others I know who might help. I—will you go bring a few plates of food? I’ll make a fire here in Lyle’s room and we can stay with him. He seemed the most affected, don’t you think?”
If something were coming for his friend, it would have to go through him.
“I think you’re correct. He seemed to be almost in shock.” The doctor shook his head. “I will fetch up some food. Absolutely.”
“Thank you, Richard. I can tell you’re a good man. You care.” That was rather more rare than people wanted to believe.
“I do. I shall return.” Richard saluted and made a show of a military-type charge.
Donnie did spare a thought to wonder where all the servants were. Why weren’t they checking in on Lyle?
Wasn’t that what butlers were for, for goodness sake?
Donnie wasn’t even sure where or how to find help—did he need to go out into the yard? Ring the bell? Lyle had always managed it.
The servants had to be about. There had been breakfast.
He checked the hearth. A fire had been laid, so he struck a long match on the tinderbox and got it going. No little coal stove for Lyle. He had a blazing hearth.
