destroy him-a bullet of silver through the heart. He is coming here at sundown with Seward and Godalming, who is a collector of weapons and an expert shot. They are going to confront him and kill him.”

“Their efforts will be fruitless,” I said. “He cannot be destroyed.”

“Von Helsinger believes otherwise. They will be here soon. Please come away from this place. Let the others do as they may. For once, let us save ourselves.” He was pleading now.

“Von Helsinger is mad, and Seward is his disciple, but why would Lord Godalming involve himself in such a plot?” I asked.

“It is my fault. They questioned me rigorously about the Count and his business in London. Von Helsinger assured me that I must spare no detail, so I disclosed that the Count had filled fifty crates with his treasures, including a large amount of gold, and transported them to England on the Valkyrie. They believe that the gold is stored here.”

“And Godalming intends to lay his hands on it?” I asked.

“Yes! It is an undocumented fortune. The Count has vast holdings under many different names, but the gold is part of his secret trove. No one knows of it, and no one will know if it is missing.”

The Count’s laughter cackled in my mind as he listened to Jonathan reveal their plans. Greedy fools. I thought of the doomed captain and crew of the Valkyrie, and wondered if the Count would do the same to this group, trying their luck as novice buccaneers.

“Are you going to take your share of the loot?” I asked him. “Is that your true purpose here?”

“I could not convince the others to abandon their plan, so let us leave them to it. The Count can summon the powers of hell to defend himself. I care only about you and the child. There will be violence here. It is no place for a woman, not even one with your astounding abilities.”

Jonathan tried to take my hand, but I pulled it away.

You know who you are now, Mina. You cannot go back.

The Count’s voice sounded deafeningly in my head. He was correct: How could I possibly return to ordinary human life after what we had experienced together? Yet how could I tell Jonathan that his child was going to be raised by another-the supernatural being who had laid waste to the life that he and I had hoped to live?

Mina, what do you want?

I could feel the Count pulling at me, drawing me to him, sending out his powerful energy to recapture me. I felt surrounded by it, wrapped in the invisible blanket of his devotion and eternally connected to him as I would never again be to another. If he had been present in the room, I might have fallen directly into his arms and never left him again. In the instant that I had that thought, he felt my vulnerability, and he was standing between Jonathan and me. Jonathan jumped back, almost tripping over a table and stumbling before he regained his balance.

“How nice of you to visit, Harker.”

Jonathan planted both feet firmly on the ground. “I did not come here to see you,” he said.

“I am aware of your purpose, as I have always been aware of your every desire, no matter how subtle,” the Count replied. “I have been explaining to Mina that there are no accidents in the world, that no living being is seduced into an entanglement that he did not invite with his innermost desires. Would you agree with my estimation?”

Rather than shrink with fear or shame, as I thought he might, Jonathan considered what the Count said, as if he had been presented with an interesting new scientific theory. “I do agree, and that is why I have come. I have had ample opportunity to contemplate my deepest wishes, and they are to be a father to my child and a husband to my wife.”

“I have never stood in your way,” the Count said. “And I will not do so now. Mina is free to do as she chooses.”

The men turned to me for a decision, but I was roiling in the wild torrent of their colliding desires. I tried to shield myself from both of them so that I could hear my own thoughts and feel my own emotions, but their opposing energies were tearing me apart. I could not look at either of them, but in my mind’s eye, I envisioned my possible lives. As much as I belonged to the Count and did not want to leave, the little being that had invaded my body, temporarily taking possession of me, had to be considered.

Was this every mother’s dilemma-to be caught between her own desires and the welfare of her child? I had just rediscovered my true nature and was beginning to explore my gifts. Would I now have to forsake all that for a life of convention?

Make your choice, Mina. I will not interfere.

“Mina, what do you want?” Jonathan asked.

Suddenly, I knew. “I want my child to be safe. I want him to be healthy and happy and to have the loving family that I did not have when I was a child. That is what I want. That is what I must care about. Not your wills and desires or mine. Just the child.” Somewhere in my soul, I was still the woman who would take her own life in despair over not being able to save her son. That was as much an essential part of my nature as my gifts. Perhaps that was woman’s true gift-to be able to obliterate her own desires and choose for a child. Jonathan was right; I could not raise our mortal son in the Count’s world.

As soon as I resigned myself to that reality, relief overtook me, and I knew that the sacrifice I was making would not be in vain. The Count did not even look surprised, but quickly met my decision with a decision of his own.

And so it is again.

He retracted his energy from me, drawing it back into himself. His withdrawal opened up a void in my being and I thought I would crumple from the loss of him. I had not realized how much we had become a part of each other until he took himself away from me. I felt as if my own heart were being ripped from my chest. Jonathan had no conscious idea of what was transpiring, but he must have perceived my sudden weakness because he put his arm around my waist as if to catch me.

I could not move. Jonathan took my hand and started to lead me toward the door. But at that moment, Morris Quince came barreling through the foyer, bringing in the scent of cigarette smoke and an even more distinct sense of urgency and danger.

“They are here,” he said to Jonathan. He visibly recoiled as his eyes took in the Count, who was suddenly emitting an air of menace.

“Let them come,” he said, as if the idea intrigued him.

We heard footsteps coming toward the front door, and we saw it slowly open. Godalming entered first, a pistol in his hand, followed by John Seward and Von Helsinger, whose face bore long scars from the swipe of the wolf dog’s treacherous nails.

“Morris?” Both Seward and Godalming looked astonished to see Quince, but only Seward spoke. “Morris, what the hell are you doing here?”

Von Helsinger’s attention was on Jonathan. “Harker, you have betrayed us to the monster!” he said. He turned to Seward. “I told you not to trust him. He was bitten. His loyalty is with the creatures!”

Seward looked at me. “We should have expected it. They are a family of betrayers.”

I cannot say that the appearance of the two doctors did not frighten me. The fear that they could capture me and once again inflict their cruelty in the name of science and medicine came rushing in. I had to remind myself that now I had power against them. “Whoever touches me will pay the price,” I said. The two men looked fearfully at the Count, unaware that it was I who would happily kill either one of them if provoked.

No one seemed to know what to do until Morris Quince looked at Godalming and at the pistol and without hesitation leapt on him, knocking him backward into the other men and onto the marble floor. Oblivious to anyone else or to the gun that Godalming still held, Quince started punching him in the face.

The two doctors were unprepared for the appearance of this new enemy, and they both shrank back. Seward yelled at Quince to stop. “You have no idea what you are interfering with, Morris. Get out of here!” He tried to grab Quince from behind, but the larger man did not budge. Godalming struck Morris in the temple with the gun, but Morris did not seem to feel it. He continued to straddle Godalming, delivering his blows until the gun, still in Arthur’s hand, was pointed at Seward. The doctor saw that the barrel was directed at his face and he cowered.

Von Helsinger was pressed against the door, his big black grasshopper eyes darting between the fight and the Count. Jonathan moved to enter the fray, I suppose, to help break it up. But the Count held him back. “This is not your affair, Harker.”

“It is my affair. I’m taking Mina out of here,” Jonathan said, reaching for my arm, but the Count stopped him,

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