Page 56 of The Shadow of the Count
He craned his neck to see Peter, who frowned a little, his brows drawing together, his lips twitching. He would swear they formed the shape of his name, but no sound came out.
“I’m right here, Peter. Right here.” Could Peter hear him? He hoped so.
“Ah, Donald. Awake then.” Richard swept down the ward, coming to stand next to his bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Awful.” Donnie tried to find a smile.
“You’ve lost an enormous amount of blood, my friend. You must give yourself time.”
“Will I go mad like Reynaud?” Hadn’t Reynaud had a blood fusion with the count?
“I should think not. You didn’t drink from him in return. Reynaud did. So did Lyle.” Richard sighed. “Your friend Clark has read me the riot act. I think I’ve learnt a good deal.”
“He means well. He’s devoted to us, you know?”
“I deserved it.” Richard pulled a wry face, his eyes full of shame. “I was well worthless at the crypt. For all I’ve seen, I didn’t really believe. The attack froze me in place. I’m so sorry I wasn’t more help to everyone.”
“We all have that first encounter, Doc,” Jeb said. “Learn from it, but don’t dwell. That don’t help a thing. Just do better next time.”
Richard nodded, expression crestfallen. “I will—learn from it, I mean. And I will not desert you fine men again.”
“I know you won’t.” Don glanced at Douglas, who seemed to sleep. “Does he have a chance?”
“He does. He has a great deal of pressure from fluid on his spine, and he has some broken vertebrae. He can feel and move his arms and hands, can move his neck, and is passing water. It will take time to tell about his legs.” Richard lost his sadness in fine doctor form.
“Will he improve?” He needed Richard to agree. He needed it.
“There’s a good chance. I have a doctor I know who is doing great works with this kind of problem. I’m recommending him for Douglas’s care.”
“Thank you.” He reached for Richard’s hand, squeezed it. “Thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome.” Richard leaned in. “With Peter, his arm will heal fine, but we can’t find anything physically to cause his throat issues. He bled, but there’s no real damage that I can see. I fear it has something to do with the count.”
“I don’t doubt it at all. He’s pure evil.” And he hadn’t thought anything could be worse than Paris.
“He is.” Richard sighed. “Well, I should let you rest. I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am, and that I will do all that I can to help.”
“Thank you.” Suddenly he was utterly exhausted, totally worn through, and all he wanted was to sleep, escape into dreams. Not the dreams of the count, but of he and Peter entwined in love.
“I will see you soon.” Richard squeezed his hand, then laid it gently on his chest. “Watch them well, Sir Cowboy Knight.”
“No one will get to them. I swear on my life.” Jeb’s voice rang with truth.
“Good man.” Richard left them, and he looked over at his brother, then Peter.
He said a little prayer that God kept them both safe before he slipped back into sleep.
* * *
“I don’t know, Chambers. I don’t like the idea of leaving.”
“You need sleep, Jeb. I rested, and I can watch over them with Yvgeny.”
Peter blinked, trying to get his mind to follow the conversation. Who needed watching over? Why did Jeb, of all people, sound so worried?
“Isn’t there a place here I can sit, close my eyes, and be close?”
“Quit arguing, you stubborn ass,” Clark snapped.
