Guardian of the Dead (14 page)

‘So soon?'

‘Yeah, I have curfew.' I was back to feeling like a kid again, but Blake merely nodded and stood, offering me his arm as we strolled to the cashier. I took it, tucking my fingers against his wiry forearm, and ignored the way I loomed over him.

‘Together or separate?' asked the attendant.

‘Separate,' I said, and was pleased when Blake didn't demur. Making new friends suddenly didn't seem that hard.

We drove back toward Mansfield, but Blake asked to show me the scenic route, promising it wouldn't take that long.

‘I love this city at night,' he said. ‘Have you ever seen it from the Port Hills? The whole place spreads out like . . . a really pretty, shiny thing.'

I laughed, and he shot me that wide smile before returning his attention to the road. ‘Hang on, I can do better than that. Okay, like a little galaxy, with every house light a personal guiding star.'

‘Oh, that was much better.'

‘I thought so,' he said, and pulled over on a street I didn't recognise, released his seatbelt, and, hand on my cheek, guided me gently into a kiss.

His lips were chapped, but warm, and his hands were careful in my hair, fingers moving in feathery strokes down my neck and scalp. The last person to kiss me had been my sort-of ex-boyfriend Eric Gould, over a year ago. I suspected that he'd partly asked me out because his two best friends had girlfriends, and he was sick of getting crap. He was a nice guy, but I'd drifted from him, like everyone else, when Mum got sick.

Blake was a much, much better kisser. I sank into the sensation, my eyelids fluttering closed. It took some effort to put my hands on his shoulders and move back.

‘Wait a minute,' I said, half laughing. ‘What about Carrie?'

Blake blinked at me, still well over toward my side of the car. ‘What about her?'

I blinked, suddenly unsure. ‘Isn't she your girlfriend?'

He grimaced. ‘She thinks so.'

‘Is she right?' I was really, really hoping for a denial, but his heavy sigh was a bad sign.

‘Well, sort of. I can't break up with her right now, you know? She's having a tough time with her classes. And it'd really mess up the play.'

‘So what are you doing with
me
?' I asked, feeling my temper start to burn.

He leaned in, breath warm on my face. ‘I like you. You're sexy.'

For a moment I hesitated, remembering the trembling heat of my lips meeting his. What did I owe Carrie? I didn't even
like
her.

But I didn't want to kiss someone capable of doing this to her. ‘No.'

‘Come on,' he wheedled, and brushed my cheek with one hand, the other landing on my knee.

I moved closer to the door, and his hands fell away. ‘Really, no. But we can stay friends, right?'

He was still smiling. ‘No one would ever have to know,' he said, and trailed his fingers up my thigh. Then he squeezed, hard.

All of my alarms went off at once.

Adrenaline coursed through me as I reared back, scrambling for the seatbelt release. My bag was at my feet. While he half-fell across my lap, unbalanced by my sudden retreat, I scooped it up and opened the door, yanking myself out into damp and chilly air. ‘I said
no
!'

‘Oh, for God's sake, Ellie. Jesus! Get back in the car.'

‘Not a chance!'

Blake lunged across the seat as I tried to slam the door, holding it open. ‘What are you going to do, walk home? The Eyeslasher's moving south, you know.'

Fear quivered for a moment, but it was drowning in my increasing anger, at him and at myself. Mark had told me to not to go into the dark alone; but even if I could trust him, and I wasn't sure I could, I
was
capable of taking care of myself. And being in a car with someone who'd already ignored a no was the more immediate danger.

‘I'll drive you home. I won't touch you; I won't even speak. You can't just walk around this late!'

I started walking, my sneakers smacking into the pavement with the force of my steps. I was glad, for the first time in a long time, that I was so big. If Blake got out to press the situation, I knew I could deal with him.

He didn't. ‘Fine!' he yelled. ‘You crazy bitch, you can just
be
a drama queen! Don't come crying to me if you get yourself raped!'

I sucked in a breath of pure rage, and whirled, ready to spit out something poisonous, but he yanked the passenger door closed and started the ignition. I turned on my heel again and, stiff-backed, ignored his roaring retreat.

‘
Kia ora
! This is Kevin's toaster. Kevin's phone is busy right now. You could leave a message with me, but don't blame Kevin if he doesn't get it. I'm really much better at toast.'

‘Call me as soon as you get this,' I said, striding down the road. ‘I'm angry at you, you arsehole, but I won't yell. I promise. Call me! Please! I'm stranded!'

I cycled through the other numbers on my contacts list, all of them useless to me. Mum and Dad. Friends in Napier. I hesitated at Iris's number, but she didn't have a car. Even if I could swallow my pride enough to call her, she couldn't help me. I hit the end of the list and threw my phone back into my bag.

It was a horrible confirmation of just how alone and friendless I was in Christchurch. If I'd made even a little effort, I could have had Mansfielder friends, ready to help me get home, ready to sympathise with my situation, ready to share my anger with Blake.

But there was no one but Kevin.

And that meant that, right now, there was no one but me.

Out of the twisty little streets at last, I found one of the main roads and the right direction, and set off grimly. It would be a long time until I got home, and Chappell was going to hang me out to dry when she checked the sign-in log in the morning. I huddled into my coat as I walked against the cold wind and worried about Kevin, out in the dark with someone I was convinced meant him harm.

I paid the car no attention until it pulled alongside, engine revving as the driver let it crawl along at my pace. His passenger leaned out the open window, and I summed him up in one glance. Mid-twenties, rugby jersey, cropped hair above a face that might have been handsome if it hadn't been leering.

‘Hey! Need a ride?'

Oh, for fuck's sake.
‘No.'

He held up his hands, mock hurt. ‘Hey, hey! Just being friendly. You should be careful. The Eyeslasher guy killed a girl in Kaikoura. They say he's moving south.'

I gritted my teeth at this reminder of Blake and lengthened my stride. ‘I live just down here.' The street branched. I turned the next corner to give support to my lie, resolutely not looking over my shoulder, and trying to walk as if I owned the area.

The car followed. ‘I'm Liam. What's your name?' The driver laughed and muttered something I couldn't hear, and the passenger whispered back.

Two of them, and big guys. If they both got out, I was in trouble.

I glanced ahead, my heart jerking unpleasantly. The road was a cul-de-sac, blank-windowed houses curling around the blunted road. But it wasn't quite a dead-end. At the highest point of the road's curve, a narrow asphalt path appeared in a gap in a chain-link fence, leading into what looked like a park. A car couldn't fit down there.

‘Hey! Be polite! What's your name?'

‘Iris.'

‘That's a pretty name. We'll give you a ride home, Iris.'

I didn't respond and sped up again, trying to look casual as I gauged the distance to the gap in the fence.

‘Come on. We'll look after you. Get you home safe.'

I stopped, and the car stopped too. It wasn't fair. Being huge and unfeminine was popularly supposed to prevent this sort of situation, but instead the perpetrators inevitably expected me to be
grateful
. I remembered the malice in Blake's parting shot. I was
not
going to give him the satisfaction.

‘Just keep driving,' I said, gauging the give in my jeans, and trying not to flinch at the nasty promise in their laughter.

‘Come on,' Liam said. ‘We'll all have some fun.' His door swung open.

‘Go fuck yourself,' I suggested, in lieu of a battle cry and stepped clear. I'd always been good at side kicks.

The impact jarred up my foot as the door slammed back on his leg with a wet, satisfying thud. I had time to see the shock and pain blur his features.

Then I ran.

There were shouts and curses behind me, but I didn't look back as I pounded down the road and turned onto the narrow path. It was slick with wet leaves and I skidded in my worn sneakers, recovering my balance with a jolt that strained my knees. I could hear the rush of their chase, but no shouting; they were hunting now. I left the lit path and headed for the shadows, running between copses of trees as silently as I could. When I couldn't hear anything more and cramps stabbed at my side, I scrambled under a tree and waited, listening through the thrumming of my blood in my ears.

I stayed there for a long time, counting the seconds in my head, and crouching against the reassuring solidity of the trunk until even a slow pursuer would have appeared. I let the terror go through me then, in a spate of quiet, vicious curses, most of them directed at Liam, with a few left over for Blake. They got repetitive very fast, but it made me feel better. If I'd taken Latin I would have more variety, I thought, and had to fight back inappropriate giggles. Maybe I could take it at university next year. If I
did
stay in Christchurch.

I slid from my hiding place to work out exactly how lost I was.

Three steps away stood a high wire fence, dimly lit at intervals. The trees towering over the top of the fence weren't the spreading bare limbs of European imports, but the damp green tangles of native foliage, crowned by the kahikatea trees thrusting bare trunks far into the sky before the rounded leafy heads appeared. They were so tall that the security lamps illuminated almost nothing; I could only make out the tree outlines as dark shapes against the fog.

I was outside the Riccarton Bush, where Kevin had suggested we go in the summer. My stomach hurt, and it wasn't just the running.

But the wet smell of the bush was reassuring. Heedless of the mud squelching under my boots, I trudged to the edge of the fence and leaned in, brushing the tips of my fingers along a leaf.

Only a body's length to my left, wearing nothing but her skin, Reka Gordon walked out of the mists.

I didn't waste time trying to deny my instincts or the evidence of my eyes. She hadn't been there a moment ago; and now she was, naked and perfect and terrifying. She looked me over, up and down, green eyes gleaming in her fine-boned face. Her pupils were missing.

‘Ellie,' she said. ‘So
you're
the one skulking at my borders. Have you been reading fairy tales?'

Fear fluttered in my throat, but my voice came out strongly. ‘What are you doing here?'

Her laugh was a pealing cascade, cold as a waterfall over dark stone. ‘This is my home. And I don't like intruders. Spying was very stupid of you.'

Unbound, her hair was longer than I'd have thought possible, hanging straight and shining to the backs of her knees. Her face was as ageless as I'd seen it first, before I'd talked myself into believing she was an ordinary woman. Now I only wondered that I'd ever thought her even remotely human.

‘I wasn't spying,' I said, through a mouth dry with terror.

‘As you say,' she said, in mocking disbelief. ‘Why else would you come here?'

Since she obviously wasn't going to believe me, I went to the most urgent question. ‘Where's Kevin?'

She sniffed. ‘I'm sure I don't know.'

‘Leave him alone!'

‘I need him,' she said, implacable. ‘His protections fade. I
will
have him.' She shrugged, in dismissal of me and my protests, and began humming a tune all in minors.