Carpathian 01 - Dark Prince

There is a tour, following Jonathan Harker's route to Transylvania. I am sure you would find it most enjoyable."
    Margaret leaned forward. "Do you believe there is truth to the stories?"
    "Mrs, Summers!" Raven showed her shock. "You don't, do you?"
    Margaret's face closed down, her lips pursed again belligerently.
    "I always have believed there is a grain of truth in nearly every story handed down through the ages.
    Perhaps that is what Mrs. Summers believes," Mikhail said gently.
    Margaret nodded her head, relaxed visibly, and bestowed a benevolent smile on Mikhail. "I'm so glad we agree, Mr. Dubrinsky. A man in your position should certainly be a man with an open mind. How could so many people over hundreds of years tell such similar stories without some truth to the legend?"
    "A living corpse?" Raven's eyebrows shot up. "I don't know about the Middle Ages, but I'd notice if dead people started walking around dragging off children."
    "There is that," Mikhail agreed. "We haven't had a large number of unexplained deaths that I'm aware of in the last few years."
    "But some of the locals tell stories of some pretty strange things." Shelly was loath to give up her ideas.
    "Of course they do." Mikhail grinned engagingly. "It is so much better for business. A few years ago…
    when was it, Father? You remember when Swaney wanted to drum up the tourist trade and he poked himself in the neck with a couple of knitting needles and had the newspaper take pictures. He hung a wreath of garlic around his neck and walked about town, claiming the garlic made him sick."
    "How do you know it wasn't real?" Margaret demanded.
    "The pinpricks became infected. It turned out he was allergic to the garlic and he had no option but to confess." Mikhail grinned mischievously at the two women. "Father Hummer made him do penance.
    Swaney said the rosary thirty-seven times in a row."
    Father Hummer threw back his head and laughed heartily. "He certainly had everyone's attention for a while there. Newspaper people were flying in from all directions. It was quite an entertaining show."
    Mikhail grimaced. "As I recall, I had to spend so much time out of my office, I worked day and night for a week to catch up."

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    "Even you had enough of a sense of humor to appreciate his little venture, Mikhail," Father Hummer said. "I've been around a long time, ladies, and I've never once encountered a walking corpse."
    Raven swept a hand through her hair, rubbed at her pounding head. The slivers of glass were relentless.
    She always associated such pain with prolonged exposure to a sick mind. Mikhail's hand came up, brushed her temple tenderly, trailed his fingers down her soft skin. "It is getting late, and Raven is still feeling the effects of the flu. Perhaps we could continue this discussion another evening?"
    Father Hummer instantly rose. "Of course, Mikhail, and I do apologize for barging in at such an inopportune moment. The ladies were very agitated and it seemed the most expedient way to alleviate their fears."
    "Raven can come back with us," Margaret offered solicitously.
    Raven knew she would never survive a car ride with the woman. Shelly was nodding her head eagerly, giving Mikhail her best smile. "Thank you so much, Mikhail. I would love to discuss this further with you, maybe take some notes?"
    "Of course, Miss Evans." Mikhail handed her his business card. "I am swamped with work right now, and Raven and I want to be married as soon as possible, but I will do my best to find some time." He was ushering his guests to the door, using his large, muscular frame and his beguiling smile to prevent anyone from touching Raven. "Thank you, Mrs. Summers, for offering to look after Raven for me, but we were interrupted, and I intend to make certain she does not leave me without the all-important ring."
    When Raven moved to step around him, he cut her off, his body so graceful and subtle, that his movement was not noticed. His hand slid down her arm, shackled her fragile wrist. "Thank you for coming," she called softly from behind him, afraid that if she spoke too loud her head would shatter into a thousand fragments.
    When their visitors had left, Mikhail dragged her protectively into his arms, his face a mask of dark menace. "I am sorry, little one, that you had to endure such a thing." He carried her into his house and made for the library.
    Raven could hear soft words in his