Dark Companion (32 page)

My only escape was getting off the street. To my left, hedges surrounded a property. I shoved the branches apart only to find my way blocked by a tall metal fence. The car was closer now and I began running again with the sheet winding on my legs, slowing me down.

The driver taunted me by staying close. My foot caught on the sheet and I lurched forward, the cloth ripping, and I windmilled my arms to stay upright.

The dark hedge seemed to go on forever, and my lungs ached and I didn’t have the breath to scream even if anyone could hear. I wondered if I should turn back and try to make it to Catalina’s. Then I saw the silhouette of the pines in front of the Radcliffes’ house. I felt a sharp stabbing pain in my side, and the muscles in my legs burned, but I forced myself forward until I reached the driveway. I flung myself at the front door and pounded against it, gasping, “Help! Help!”

When the door opened, I threw myself into Mr. Radcliffe’s arms.

“Jane! What’s happened?”

Now I stared up the drive. The street was empty, and I couldn’t hear an engine over my own strangled breaths.

My knees buckled and Mr. Radcliffe helped me to the living room. I collapsed on the sofa and he called out, “Hyacinth! Come quick.”

I was vaguely aware of them bringing me a glass of water. I was shaking and sweating. “Lock it! Lock the door!” I managed to say.

“What? Jane, you’re fine here. You’re safe.” Mrs. Radcliffe wiped my face with a cool wet cloth. “What’s happened?”

Her expression made me look down at myself. Leaves and twigs from the hedges were stuck on my clothes and in my hair. I’d stepped in a puddle somewhere, because my shoes and clothes were muddy. I was drenched in sweat and my sheet had fallen off one arm. I gulped down the whole glass of water before saying, “I was at Latin Skit Night at Catalina’s house. When I was walking back, a car followed me. I ran, but it kept following me.”

“Why were you walking? Did you see who was driving?”

I shook my head.

“Jane, could it have been someone from the party, perhaps making sure you got home safely?” Mrs. Radcliffe said.

“The driver didn’t have the headlights on and that means … it means a drive-by, something bad’s going down.”

Mr. and Mrs. Radcliffe exchanged a look, and she said, “Maybe in Helmsdale, but not here, Jane. Here it means some kid didn’t turn on the lights. Or an elderly driver forgot to turn her headlights on and was concerned about a girl by herself late at night.”

“Do you think so?” It sounded plausible.

“Yes, I think so.” Mrs. Radcliffe smoothed back my hair. “We have never had a shooting here, Jane, or an abduction. It doesn’t happen in Greenwood.”

Mr. Radcliffe frowned. “It was enough to scare Jane, and we should call the police.”

His wife gave him a look. “For all we know, someone thought Jane was the suspicious one, walking around like a ghost in that sheet.”

Mr. Radcliffe went to a liquor cabinet and poured a tumbler full of amber liquid. “Would you like a drink, Jane, to collect yourself?”

“No.”

He swirled the liquid in the glass and then tossed it back.

Mrs. Radcliffe said, “Jane, you’ll feel better in the morning. I’ll set up a room for you.”

I couldn’t bear to stay here lying awake and listening for Lucky to get home. “No, I want to go to my place.”

“Only if Mr. Radcliffe sees you safely home. I’m going to call the police station and tell them there’s a driver without lights scaring our students.”

While she made the call, Mr. Radcliffe went with me to the front door and then said, “It’s cold out. Wait here.” He returned wearing a jacket and carrying an old sweatshirt with the Dog Waffle logo. I pulled off the toga and slipped on the sweatshirt. I knew whose it was immediately by the faint, comforting scent of leaves and fields.

Mr. Radcliffe seemed uneasy as we went down the hill. I stumbled and he caught me by the elbow to steady me. “I should have brought a flashlight. I forgot that you don’t have our night vision.”

“It’s okay,” I answered, but I let him guide me through the grove.

We were quiet until we got close to the amphitheater. “We haven’t talked much, Jane, but I hope we’ll get to know each other well.”

I nodded. “Me, too.”

“Did you have fun at Skit Night?”

“It was a class assignment,” I answered too sharply.

He sighed heavily. “I know Lucky went to Catalina’s. I asked him not to because we knew you’d be there. We’ve instructed him to keep his distance from you in public places until things settle down within the Family. It’s been a disruptive year.”

I was pitifully grateful to hear this. “Thanks for explaining. I didn’t mind, Mr. Radcliffe.”

“Call me Toby, Jane.”

I saw the shine of his smile in the gloom. “I didn’t want to stay anyway. I’m not a partyer, Toby.” It felt awkward to call him that.

“Lucky is. I hope you’ll be a good example to him, Jane. You have such a strong work ethic and you seem emotionally grounded and steady, which are the most important qualities in a Companion. And freshness, of course. When Claire was young, her blood was dazzlingly pure, so vibrant with health.”

I heard him inhale deeply and then let out the breath. Then he said, “I’m glad we have the chance to have this talk.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Toby.”

“Yes, I mean, it’s been nice, Toby.”

My nerves were jangling as we walked to my porch. The porch light was on and I could see now that he was a little drunk. Then his glazed eyes fixated on my throat and he said, “Would you like me to come in and check out the place for you?” He leaned so close to me that I could smell the whiskey on his breath. “Jane, I could tell you about my relationship with Claire, how amazing it was, how she fed me. You must be curious.”

I had been misinterpreting so many things and I didn’t know if I was misinterpreting his intentions. “No, thank you, no.” I moved to one side. “I know you and Mrs. Radcliffe were probably enjoying an evening alone.”

“You seemed very upset.” He came close again. “We should get to know each other better, Jane.”

I put my key in the lock and turned it so I wasn’t facing him anymore. “We can talk another time. I overreacted because where I come from, you have to always be wary.”

“Hellsdale. We rescued Claire from that.”

My hand was on the doorknob, and I looked back. “Thank you for seeing me home, Mr. Radcliffe.”

“Toby.” Then he stared into the trees as they whispered in the breeze. “Mrs. Radcliffe and I want you to come to the house Sunday afternoon. A Council Director, our representative on our governing organization, will be interviewing you.”

“I thought everything was approved.”

“It is, but Lucky’s a special young man, so special circumstances apply. Eventually my son will take over my seat on the Council’s education committee, as well as the responsibility of Birch Grove Academy.”

“But I thought the headmistress was in charge.”

“Only of the school’s administration. I’m president of the Board of Trustees. Officially, Birch Grove is a nonprofit corporation. In reality, I own it.” Mr. Radcliffe’s gaze lingered on my neck. “Sunday at three then.”

“I’ll be there. Good night.”

To my relief, Mr. Radcliffe put his hands in his pockets and walked back toward his house.

When I got inside, I was so shaken up that I didn’t notice for several minutes that the red light of my answering machine was blinking. I punched the button and could barely hear Lucky’s voice because he was speaking quietly with lots of background noise. “Sorry I didn’t say hi, but we gotta keep a low profile. Until it’s official. Night.”

The fact that he’d left a message was as soothing as the way he licked my wounds, and I played the message over and over again while I pressed the collar of the sweatshirt to my nose and breathed in the comforting green scent. Everything would be better when Lucky and I were official.

She spoke: a soft soothing voice, a voice that carried a spell with it, and affected us both strangely, particularly the rector. I wished to test as far as possible, without endangering our lives, the Vampire’s power.

F. G. Loring, “The Tomb of Sarah” (1900)

Chapter 29

On Sunday, when I went to the Radcliffes’, I saw a gleaming black Mercedes parked in the driveway.

My headmistress answered the door. “Come on in, Jane. The Director is talking to Lucian in Mr. Radcliffe’s study. Let’s wait in the family room.”

As we passed the living room, I noticed vases of fresh flowers on the polished tables and a fire burning in the fireplace.

Mrs. Radcliffe said, “You look like a different girl than you did the other night, Jane. Quite the young lady.”

“Hattie told me that I should wear LBDs to Family meetings. I’m sorry, but I left Jack’s sweatshirt—Mr. Radcliffe loaned it to me—at the cottage. I can go back and get it.”

“He’s got a drawer full of them, and he won’t miss it. Or maybe
I
won’t miss it. Jacob’s practicing with his band today.” She nervously played with a long strand of pearls. “It will only be a little wait.”

“Mrs. Radcliffe, what made you decide to teach Night Terrors?”

She looked pleased. “I started reading supernatural mythology when I was young. I was trying to find out why people hated and feared us so much. The more I read, the more I understood that literature reflects zeitgeist, which means the cultural climate of an age. I became fascinated with the progression of supernatural literature in conjunction with social and political movements, and that’s how my course developed.”

“What does current supernatural fiction tell you about our, uhm…”

“Zeitgeist.” She spelled it out. “I’ll tell you when I prepare my class for next year.”

“In other words, you haven’t figured it out yet.”

Mrs. Radcliffe laughed, something she didn’t do often. “You are an astute young woman, Jane. Is there anything else you’d like to ask me?”

“Have your kind always existed?”

“We’ve traced our people to villages on the Black Sea. When the traders on the Silk Road intermarried with the villagers, our genetic anomaly appeared in their children. Our kind migrated from those villages north and west. Our largest populations were in Eastern Europe.” She paused. “Most of us were wiped out by genocidal campaigns instigated by those who wanted to take our lands and wealth, but you won’t find that in the history books.”

“That’s what I told Hattie about history! It’s inherently biased because it’s always written by those who win the battles.”

“That may be true, Jane, but we can still glean facts by analyzing a range of source material.” Then we heard voices and movement at the front of the house, and Mrs. Radcliffe’s hand went to her necklace again. “It’s time. Be yourself, Jane, and you’ll be fine.”

She led me into the living room. I’d expected Lucky to be there, but there was only Mr. Radcliffe and another man, a man who made Tobias Radcliffe seem worn and shabby.

The visitor had deep brown curly hair, hooded brown eyes, strong features, and wore a flawless black suit and snowy-white shirt. Almost six feet and broad-chested, he emanated power even as he stood casually with a glass of red wine.

“This is Jane Williams,” Mrs. Radcliffe said, but she didn’t introduce him to me.

“Hello, Jane.” The man’s disarming smile made me feel that we had just shared a private joke. “Hyacinth and Tobias, I’d like to talk to Jane alone.”

“Of course.” Mrs. Radcliffe blushed prettily, and I wondered what she’d been like when she was my age.

When they left, the man waved to a tray of wine and soda on a side table. “Would you like something to drink, Jane?”

“No, thank you, sir. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

“I’m Ian Ducharme. I represent this region on the Council. Not that Hyacinth leaves much for us to do. She likes to control every detail of her school and the town operates quite smoothly.” His voice was low and persuasive and, although his English was perfect, he seemed foreign. “Shall we sit?”

He waited until I sat on the sofa and then sat near me, making the hair on the back of my neck rise.

“Jane, you’re too young to fully comprehend what a lifetime commitment is. No doubt, the Radcliffes have idealized the relationship in courting you, but Companions sometimes come to regret their decision. They rarely regret the generous compensation.” He smiled cynically. “We buy loyalty, Jane. Most people are quite eager to sell it.”

I studied him. “You remind me of Jack Radcliffe. He likes to say things to unnerve me. There’s a physical resemblance, too.”

“So I’m of a type?” he said wryly. “Now I must meet Jack to discover whether you’ve given me a compliment or not.”

“It wasn’t meant one way or the other.”

“Why not? Don’t you wish to cultivate my favor? I have influence in the world, you know, and I’m quite wealthy. Women find me extremely handsome.”

His sexuality was as compelling as a riptide, and I wondered what it would be like to feel those white teeth biting into my throat. I glanced away. “For most people, being rich and powerful are synonymous with being handsome.”

“That’s been to my benefit, Jane. The very people who find me so attractive might decide they are quite mistaken should I ever lose my fortune.”

I liked him because he treated me like an equal. “I think you’d get over it.”

He had a rich, low laugh. “Now it’s my turn to tell you what I think about you. I think Hyacinth may have miscalculated. The best Companions are those who are happiest when they’re serving others. I think you do what is required to survive, but I doubt that subservience is your nature. Will you be loyal for a price?”

“Loyalty that can be bought isn’t loyalty. I’ve already promised Lucky that I’ll be his Companion. I keep my promises.”

“Will you keep your promise for an eternity?”

“I won’t live forever. I’ll keep it for my lifetime.”

“That will have to suffice,” he said. “Hyacinth has reviewed your academic records, interviewed your teachers and social workers, and come to the conclusion that you are an ideal candidate for her son. However, when I look into your eyes, I see something other than the simple girl you appear to be.”