نفس خون آشام فصل 13

Vampire Breath - Chapter 13

And then I heard a whoosh.

I nearly dropped the bottle as a green mist sprayed up through the top.

“Yessss!” I cried happily. The bottle wasn’t empty!

The sickening odor made me gasp, then hold my breath. But I didn’t care about the smell.

I watched the fog thicken, thicken until I couldn’t see the coffin in the middle of the room. Couldn’t see Cara. Couldn’t see the old vampire.

The dark mist billowed and swirled.

I wanted to cheer and jump up and down. Because I knew that Count Nightwing would disappear into the fog. And we would be safe. We would never see him again.

“Cara—are you okay?” I called. My voice sounded hollow, muffled by the swirling fog.

“It stinks!” she choked out.

“Hold your breath,” I told her. “The last time, it faded away in a few seconds.” “It’s soooo disgusting!” she wailed.

Cara was standing close beside me. But I couldn’t see her in the waves of mist.

So damp and cold. I suddenly felt as if I were standing under water. Standing under the ocean as wave after wave rolled over me.

I held my breath as long as I could. When my chest started to burn, I let it out in a long whoosh.

I shut my eyes and prayed. Prayed for the fog to fade, for the mist to lower to the floor and disappear, as it had before.

Please, please—I thought. Don’t let Cara and me drown in this disgusting mist.

A few seconds later, I opened my eyes.

Darkness all around.

I blinked several times. A square of pale yellow light glowed in the distance.

Moonlight pouring in through a window.

Window? There is no window in this room! I told myself.

I turned and saw Cara. She was swallowing hard, her eyes wide, glancing nervously around the room. “He—he’s gone,” she murmured. “Freddy—the vampire is gone.” I squinted into the dim light. “But where are we?” I whispered. I pointed to the open window far away, at the other end of the room. “There was no window before.” Cara chewed her bottom lip. “We’re not in the same room,” she said softly. “This room is so big and—” She stopped.

“Coffins!” I cried.

As my eyes adjusted to the light, the low, solid shapes formed out of the shadows. And I realized I was staring at two long, straight rows of coffins.

“Where are we?” Cara cried, unable to hide the fear in her voice. “It must be some sort of graveyard or something!” “But we’re indoors,” I said. “We’re not in a graveyard. We’re in a room. A very long room.” I gazed up to the high ceilings. Two glass chandeliers hung down, their crystals gleaming dully in the pale moonlight.

The dark walls were covered with huge paintings. Even in the dim light, I could see that they were portraits, portraits of stern-faced men and women in formal, old-fashioned, black clothes.

I turned back to the rows of coffins—and silently started to count them. “There must be two dozen coffins in this room!” I whispered to Cara.

“All lined up so perfectly in two straight rows,” she added. “Freddy, do you think—?” “He took us with him,” I murmured.

“Huh?” Cara chewed her lip.

“Count Nightwing. He took us with him,” I repeated. “He was supposed to go back to his castle—by himself. He said he would go and never see us again. But he took us with him, Cara. I’m sure he did.” Cara stared straight ahead at the rows of coffins. “But he can’t do that!” she cried. “He can’t!” I started to reply. But a sound made me stop.

A creaking sound.

I felt a chill sweep down my back as I heard another creaking, closer this time.

Cara grabbed my arm. She heard it too. “Freddy—look!” she whispered.

I squinted into the dim light. “The coffins—!” I whispered.

They were all creaking open.