TWENTY-TWO
I had never heard Mrs Harker scream, before. I had never stopped to think that she could. I had heard her war-cry. I had heard her roar. But never in my memory had Mina Harker given voice to terror. The sound set my world on its ear.
She stumbled a step backward, raising her hands in a useless gesture. The colour had drained from her face; even her lips were white as bone.
Geordie froze beside me, and his hand vanished from mine. I felt his shoulders hunch, his head bow, his arms stiffen at his sides. He might have run, had there been anywhere to go, but feet were already pounding up the stairs behind us, and nearer, doors were bursting open.
Uncle Joe exploded into the corridor with his seax in one hand and a Mauser in the other. He’d use them as easily as I would, in his p
