Dangerous Creatures (Book 3, Pure Series) (10 page)

              "You said you were going to see a friend."

              "William is a friend."

              GM didn't reply to that, but she continued to look disapproving.

              "People can be so unreliable," she said after a moment.

              "Which people?" I asked. "Do you mean William? William's not unreliable."

              "Hmmm," was all GM said.

              She turned, and I walked with her into the kitchen.

              "I'm working on dinner," GM said. "I'll be going out again tonight. Once you make a commitment to something you have to go through with it."

              "What do you mean?" I asked.

              GM waved a hand. "It doesn't matter. Why don't you put your things down and help me? You can chop up some vegetables for a salad."

              I set down my books first and then my backpack, but despite the fact that I tried to set it down carefully, it still struck the table with a resounding clank.

              GM turned. "What was that?"

              "Nothing," I said.

              "I heard a very distinct sound," GM said. Her eyes shifted to my backpack. "What's that?"

              The handle of the crossbow was very clearly visible.

              "Nothing," I said again.

              "No, I think it is something," GM said. "Let me see that thing you have there."

              "What thing?"

              "That thing in your backpack. I want to see it."

              Reluctantly, I unzipped the backpack and took the crossbow out carefully—I was afraid that if I didn't do it, GM would rush over and try to take it out herself.

              As I drew the crossbow out, GM's eyes widened in surprise. "What is it that you have there? It looks like a weapon."

              For a moment, I couldn't answer.

              "What is it?" GM demanded.

              "It's a—science project," I said.

              GM stared at the crossbow for a long moment and then looked back at me. "Sometimes you are a very strange girl, Solnyshko."

              After dinner, GM went out just as she had on the previous night, and I settled down in the living room to try to get some homework done. But concentration was hard to come by—Bryony's grandmother was still missing, William was out trying to find out information about the Hunter, and somewhere out in the night, there was at least one vampire that wanted to catch me.

              I wished very badly that I knew what was going on.

              GM returned later in the evening from her mysterious outing. She had her big leather satchel on her shoulder, and she sat down dejectedly in a chair near me.

              "Unreliable," she said darkly.

              "Who?" I asked. "Me?"

              She turned sad eyes on me. "No, Solnyshko. You are the most reliable of all."

              She got up and walked over to me, and she put her hands on either side of my face. "You are all I have left in this world. You are precious to me—very precious! Please don't let anyone hurt you."

              GM pressed a kiss to my forehead, and then she left the room.

              I was left to wonder what she could mean—and then I happened to notice that she'd left her bag on her chair.

              I got up and glanced into the hallway—there was no sign of GM.

              I went back to the living room and unzipped GM's satchel as noiselessly as I could. Inside, there was a black sequined gown, high-heeled shoes, and big chandelier earrings—whatever she'd been up to had had a decidedly romantic bent.

              I thought I heard a noise in the hall, and I quickly closed the bag again.

              Luckily, GM didn't reappear, and I wondered again—could she be seeing Maksim secretly? And if so—why wouldn't she tell me? I'd seen the two of them together before. Unless Maksim had something to hide—and GM wanted to help him hide it.

              I shook my head then as if to get rid of the idea. It was ridiculous. I couldn't suspect my own grandmother of being up to no good.

              As I went up to my room for bed that night, I felt tired—and not just because of the hour. I felt heavy—weighed down by all of the things I didn't understand.

              I got ready for bed and then climbed under the covers, fully anticipating a sleepless night. But as I lay in the dark, a golden light seemed to come to me, and a sense of peace settled over me. I felt myself drifting—following a tiny point of light through the darkness.

              I closed my eyes and sank into dreams filled with stars.

Chapter 8.

The next morning, GM was preoccupied at breakfast, which wasn't surprising given her mood from the night before. But I knew there was no chance that she would tell me what was on her mind, so I ate breakfast quickly, kissed her on the cheek, and then headed out the door.

              The morning was warm and sunny, and when I reached the schoolyard, I decided to stop and talk with Simon, Charisse, and Branden at the picnic table. Everything was so normal that it was hard to believe at the moment that there was danger lurking all around us—that there were things in our town we couldn't see that could do us a lot of harm.

              My thoughts drifted to William, and I wondered what he'd found in the night—I knew I had a long day of waiting ahead of me.

              The morning passed quietly enough, but as I made my way to lunch, I found myself glancing over my shoulder. The halls were full of chattering students, and the atmosphere in the crowd was the same as it always was—no one else seemed to notice anything unusual. But somehow I sensed a change. I felt as if there were another presence among us—a presence that didn't belong. I told myself that I was just being paranoid.

              I spotted Bryony in the cafeteria, and I was glad to see she was back at school—she'd been absent on Wednesday, which was understandable. But today she was still worried and subdued, and I really couldn't blame her—none of us had gotten any closer to finding out what had happened to her grandmother.

              After lunch, I somehow found myself walking alone in a seldom-used hall, and I realized that I was actually headed toward the boiler room. I decided to keep going.

              As I walked, I thought I heard footsteps behind me, and I turned quickly. But no one was there.

              The vague feeling that had led me to this hallway abruptly vanished, and I shook my head, as if to clear it.

              I turned the other way and hurried on to class.

              Every time I was in the hallway after that, I seemed to hear footsteps just behind me—even when I was surrounded by a crowd. The crowd would fade away, and I would hear only the footsteps. I kept turning to look, but I only saw other students.

              The day seemed to pass in a strange, slow dream state, and eventually I found myself approaching my last class of the day. But instead of turning into the classroom, I walked back toward the empty hallway that led to the boiler room.

              The footsteps I had heard earlier quickly returned.

              I wondered then if David could be trying to contact me again, and instead of fighting the feeling that tugged on me, I decided to follow it.

              I hurried down the stairs to the boiler room, and when I reached the door, I pushed it open gingerly and peered inside. All was darkness.

              "David?" I whispered. I considered turning on the lights, but if David was indeed in the room, I didn't want to startle him. And I knew I didn't have to speak loudly for him to hear me.

              I pushed the door open a little wider. "David, are you in here?"

              "Hey! What do you think you're doing?" said a voice behind me.

              Startled, I turned to see a burly man in a dark blue uniform standing right behind me—he looked to be a janitor.

              "I-I don't know," I said. "I—"

              I stopped. There was no way I could explain what I was up to.

              "Well, you're not supposed to be down here," the man said. "And you're especially not supposed to be in the boiler room. In fact, the door's supposed to be locked. Move away from there."

              I let go of the door, and it slammed shut heavily. The janitor took out a jingling ring of keys and locked the door.

              "I'm sorry I startled you," he said. "I just don't want you to get hurt. There's machinery in there that could be dangerous to students, and some girl got dragged in there by a lunatic or something on Tuesday. It's not a safe place. Besides, shouldn't you be in class?"

              "Yes," I said. "Sorry."

              I turned and hurried back up the stairs.

              But on the first landing I paused to listen, and I heard the janitor and his jingling keys move down the hall away from the boiler room. Eventually, the sound of the keys stopped completely.

              I waited a few more moments just to be sure, and then I tiptoed back down the stairs and glanced around—the janitor didn't appear to be anywhere nearby. I returned to the boiler room door and tried the handle.

              The door was unlocked again.

              I pushed the door open and peered into the darkness.

              "David? Are you in here?" I whispered.

              There was no answer, and I pushed the door open wider. "David, it's Katie. Have you been trying to contact me?"

              There was silence in the room, and I began to search on the wall for a light switch.

              Suddenly, there was a terrific shove to my back, and I went sprawling into the room. As I stumbled and then fell to the floor, the door slammed shut behind me with a very solid clang.

              I got up quickly, but I was too late. I was completely enveloped by darkness.

              My first instinct was to run for where I thought the door was, but I quickly decided against it. There was a very good chance that I was now trapped in the boiler room with someone who could see in the dark. And if that were true, there was also a very good chance that I would never make it to the door—it was never a good idea to run from a predator.

              I stood very still, and I found myself looking around in the darkness, even though I couldn't see a thing. The blackness that surrounded me was heavy and absolute—and all I could hear was the steady hum of machinery.

              "David?" I said again softly. Unfortunately, I was pretty sure now that David was not the one in the room with me—but a tiny hope remained. Maybe David was there, and he was just too weak to answer.

              Suddenly, something rushed by me in the darkness. I turned toward it, and then it rushed past me again.

              "Leave," hissed a voice in my ear.

              Something rushed by me a third time, and soon it was rushing around me in a tight circle, whirling faster and faster. A strong wind kicked up, and I felt as if I were in the center of a tornado.

              "Leave!" hissed the voice again. "Leave!"

              I sank to the floor and tried to cover my head to protect it, but the voice continued to hiss in my ear, and the wind continued to whirl around me violently. Suddenly the voice rose to a shout.

              "Leave!"

              The wind vanished abruptly, and the lights came on. I stood for a moment, disoriented, and then I looked around me.

              Scrawled on the far wall in red paint was a message:

              LEAVE BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.

              I hurried out of the boiler room.

              I ran until I was free of the school, and then I stood blinking in the sunshine of the schoolyard. I was breathing hard, but I forced myself to be calm, and then I pushed myself to go back into the school to the boiler room to retrieve the backpack I had dropped. The door was still unlocked when I reached it, and the lights were still on. But the message was gone—it had been rubbed out so that it was unreadable.

              I hurried home.

              When I reached the house, I stopped and sat down on the step. If I went rushing in, GM was sure to notice the state I was in and demand an explanation. And William was expecting to meet me back at the school—I didn't want him to panic when I didn't show up.

              I quickly sent William a text telling him to meet me later that night at my house. Then I sat for several minutes, trying to make myself appear calm and composed.

              Then I went inside.

              GM, as it turned out, was too preoccupied to notice how badly rattled I was, and when I mentioned to her that William would probably be dropping by for a visit, she only looked up and nodded absently. I was surprised by how little she reacted to the mention of one of her least favorite people, but I was glad to be spared an argument. I went up to my room then and tried to think.

              There was little doubt in my mind that the vampire who had visited William, Bryony, and me the night we had tried to contact the ghost had just come to me again in the boiler room. And though both encounters, like the messages I had received, had seemed potentially threatening, it now seemed equally likely that someone was trying to help. Whoever it was could see me when I couldn't see him—and he had never hurt me. So what was the purpose of it all? And why did the unseen vampire want me to leave?

              Eventually, I went downstairs and had a quiet dinner with GM. We were just clearing up the dishes when there was a knock on the door, and I hurried to answer it. William was waiting on the other side.

              "I got your text," he said.

              "You look worried," I replied.

              "I am. Can we go for a walk?"

              "Sure. Just a minute."

              I went back in to let GM know I was going out with William, and then I stepped out and closed the door behind me.

              The evening was warm and pleasant, and we were silent for a time as we walked.

              "You don't have good news for me, do you?" I said at last.

              "I'm afraid not, no."

              "Did you find what you were looking for?" I asked.

              "I was looking for information, and I found it. But in some ways we're no better off."

              "What does that mean?"

              William stopped and looked at me. "What would you say if I told you I'd like you to go to Russia?"

              "To Russia?" I said, startled. "Why?"

              "It's safer."

              "But I thought you wanted me out of there. You said it was better for me to be far away from the vampire colony and all the troubles that go along with it."

              William looked pained. "Unfortunately, that was a false hope. This trouble now—it can find you here. It can find you anywhere in the world. And you know your old family house in Russia is protected. No vampire can enter it."

              What William said about the house was true enough—I had seen it for myself. Before she'd died, my mother had placed a charm on the house where she'd lived with my father and GM. The charm prevented any dark creatures from entering the house—vampires, hybrids, and kosts would all find themselves physically unable to enter the house no matter how they tried. I had actually seen Timofei Mstislav, after he had been transformed into a hybrid, attempt to enter the house—he had been unable even to touch the building. Instead, he had spent an entire night standing outside and staring at the door—and at sunrise he had shuffled off. It had been a truly horrifying sight.

              My cousin Odette was the one who had originally told me about the charm on the house, and she was in a position to know—she was a vampire herself. But Odette was actually able to enter the house despite her status as a vampire—she had been designated as a person who was 'safe' to enter when the charm was originally set.

              And William, despite his vampire blood, had been able to enter the house, too. Neither of us knew why he was able to enter when other vampires were excluded, but it was possible it was because he had originally been Sìdh—perhaps the charm could sense that about him. Whatever the reason, the house believed he was safe.

              "So you want me to leave Elspeth's Grove," I said. "I assume that means soon."

              "Yes."

              "You're not the only one who wants me to leave," I said.

              William looked at me sharply, and I told him about the message I had received in the boiler room.

              He frowned. "I don't like it. It does seem like someone wants to help, but all the same, I don't like it. And I wish—"

              I interrupted. "William, what's going on? You haven't really told me anything. Why do you—and this other vampire—want me to leave?"

              "I'd really rather not tell you just yet. I don't want to upset you."

              "Did you find out who the Hunter is?"

              "Yes."

              "Then who is he?"

              "Katie, it's bad news."

              "As bad as the Werdulac wanting to kill me once he's free in order to start a war?" I said.

              William looked away.

              "William!"

              "I found out," William said reluctantly, "that the Hunter is a very old vampire—he was a servant of the Werdulac. After the Werdulac himself was converted to the vampire state, he set about converting his family and all those in close association with him into vampires, too. The Hunter was one of that first group of converts. In his original, mortal life, he had been, as his name suggests, a skilled hunter. After his conversion, he became a legend—in the days when the Werdulac held sway, before he was defeated by the Sìdh, the Hunter was one of his most powerful weapons. Anyone or anything the Hunter went after he caught. The Hunter's tomb has begun opening recently, seemingly from the inside, and the rumor is that the Werdulac's people are behind it. The Hunter was burned centuries ago, but if he can be revived and released—he'll be after you."