A knock at the door interrupted Mina’s reading session.
“Come in,” she called out, sitting up straight on her bed.
The door opened gently, and Professor Van der Linden’s tall figure appeared in the doorway. In his hands were a fresh pitcher of blood and two silver goblets, clinking together softly.
“How are you feeling today?” he asked, his expression unreadable. Mina had come to understand that her mysterious professor was an indiscernible type of man.
“Much better since last week,” she replied, referring to the incident near the stables.
He set the goblets down on the nightstand and poured two glasses of the deep red liquid into them. Passing one to Mina, he kept the other and took a seat in the armchair in the corner.
“Have the headaches and dizzy spells gone away?”
“Yes, f
