In Memories We Fear (22 page)

The dilemma was cheerfully solved for her when the hotel lobby doors opened and Wade walked out, followed by Philip. Oh good—they’d finally decided to do something. Philip’s bloodstained coat was buttoned, which meant he was wearing his machete, but only someone who’d seen what happened to him would know the dark patches on his black coat were blood. Mary watched them head toward Russell Square, and she blinked out, rematerializing in the trees up ahead of them.

She could tell from the look on Wade’s face that he was doing mental sweeps, trying to pick up thoughts from either one of his companions or the crazy vamp.

Mary shook her head. She’d been trying to convince Julian for months that Wade was fully telepathic—stronger than Philip in that regard—but Julian just couldn’t seem to believe this of a mortal. Arrogance was Julian’s biggest weakness, and sometimes she wished he could see that.

Just as Wade and Philip were coming to the north end of the square, she fully materialized near a tree by the main path, but with her back turned.

At a gasp from Wade, she whirled around, looking at him and Philip in surprise, as if she’d been waiting and watching for something, and they’d just stumbled upon her.

 

Philip almost couldn’t believe the sight. He’d never seen this ghost before, but Eleisha had once described her in detail, right down to the nose stud. She was so different from Seamus, so slender and so . . . modern.

Even after listening to the descriptions of her, she’d never quite seemed real to him—even after hearing of the phone call tonight. Yet, there she was.

And if she was in London, Julian was not far behind.

The girl ghost made a gasping sound, as if horrified they’d seen her, and she rushed forward in a blur. Without a word, Philip bolted after her, and Wade flew into motion, doing a fair job of keeping up.

She vanished as they emerged onto Woburn Place.

“Which way?” Wade called, looking up and down.

Turning north, Philip caught a flash of magenta far up the street near the mouth of an alley. “There!”

They ran, once again not caring whom they jostled or startled on the street. Did no one in London ever go to bed? But as they skidded to a stop near the alley, an unexpected sight awaited them. The girl ghost was blinking in and out in the same exact spot, and her expression was desperate.

“She’s having trouble,” Wade said. “I don’t think she can teleport.”

“Where’s Julian?” Philip demanded of the girl.

In answer, she blinked out, and this time she vanished. He bolted back out onto Woburn, swiveling his head left and right, until he caught another magenta flash up near Euston Road. “Come on!”

 

This was the most fun Mary could remember in a long time. Both Wade and Philip had been completely duped by her show of distress and horror, not to mention her last-minute trick of faking difficulty in teleporting.

They were running after her like a pair of dogs.

Once they both skidded out onto Euston, she vanished, giving them just a hint or two of a sighting until she reached Pentonville, and she floated over to the abandoned building. If she could get them this far, Wade could pinpoint Eleisha’s location inside in a heartbeat.

But this time, she kept her eyes and her senses wide-open for Seamus.

And that was her first clue that something was wrong. She didn’t sense anyone—anyone at all—inside.

Philip was coming up fast, and she blinked out, materializing inside the decaying main room and looking around for the things she’d noted earlier: the backpack, spare shoes, wet towel, etc. She floated all the way to the back.

Everything was gone.

The place was empty except for Maxim’s tattered clothes on the floor near the sink. Even the cats were gone. All of Mary’s glee dissipated. Julian was going to have an aneurysm.

Then he was going to blame her.

Half turning, she could sense Philip right outside. She blinked herself away.

 

As Wade came around the corner of some decaying, graffiti-covered buildings, he glanced down at a one-legged old man who sat leaned up against a wall while feeding a can of tuna to two cats.

But he didn’t do more than glance, because Philip was already well ahead of him.

“Where is she?” Wade called.

Philip had stopped completely, and by the time Wade reached him, he’d crouched down, leaning toward a hole at the bottom of an especially shabby outer wall.

“What are you doing?” Wade demanded. “We’ll lose the girl!”

But Philip didn’t budge. Instead, he made a sniffing noise, as if forcing his long-dead lungs to take in air.

“Eleisha has been here,” he said.

“What?”

Instead of answering, Philip crawled through the hole. It was a tight fit, but he got through. With little choice, Wade followed, emerging inside a large spiderweb-infested room filled with dust and wooden crates.

Philip’s voice held no emotion. “She was here a long time, for hours. I can smell her everywhere.”

It never occurred to Wade to doubt Philip. He’d not realized Philip’s sense of smell was so developed, but they’d never been in this position before.

“Why did that ghost lead us here?” Philip asked, almost to himself.

“I don’t know.”

Slowly, Wade moved toward the back of the dusty room, bypassing the crates, and he spotted the sink.

“Philip . . . ?”

Wade’s eyes dropped down to the tattered remnants of clothing on the floor and the dried remains of soapy water staining the area all around. He walked closer. The sink was still wet.

“They cleaned him up,” he whispered.

The implications of this were staggering. For one . . . if they had managed this feat, they must have had some cooperation from the vampire, which suggested he was not entirely beyond reach. And two . . . why would Eleisha and Rose clean him up and then leave? Why not try to work with him here, locked away from all other eyes? This was an ideal place for such an attempt.

“Some of my clothes were missing,” Philip said, looking down at the rags.

“What?”

“Tonight, at the suite. I noticed some of my clothes and our shampoo and my leather shoes were missing.”

Rose had been carrying only a small purse when she left with Philip, so that meant Eleisha had been thinking far ahead before she’d ever slipped out the hotel window.

Wade grimaced. “I don’t know what she’s planning or what she’ll do, except that she’s staying about five steps ahead of us.”

Philip closed his eyes in what appeared to be a mix of anger and despair, and Wade could not help echoing the sentiments. Eleisha was always saying how much she needed them, but that was a lie. She didn’t need either one of them.

And Wade had a sinking feeling that until she contacted them, they would both be wandering in the dark.

 

Eleisha climbed out of the taxi, with Maxim and Rose coming after. Then she found herself standing at the outer edge of a forest, with a narrow street in front of her, and Caufield Cemetery behind her. In the distance, at the edge of the large graveyard, she could see a small shed and a cottage, but nothing else. They were basically out in the middle of nowhere—in the wee hours before morning. But this was where Seamus had told them to stop. If the cab driver found their destination questionable, he didn’t say anything, and she tipped him thirty percent.

He drove away.

Eleisha looked around, fighting the urge to ask Rose, “Now what?” But she managed to keep silent. Maxim, however, turned around to look at the trees, and the tension in his face relaxed visibly. But then he stepped forward and stumbled on the oversized shoes. Eleisha moved to help him.

“You don’t need those anymore,” she said, untying them and taking them off.

He pointed to the forest.

She slipped into his mind, seeing images of him running through the trees . . . and digging in the dirt. He wanted to go.

“Not yet,” she said. “Soon.” And she braced herself to freeze him again if he bolted. That had been her overriding goal on this entire journey from London—not to lose Maxim.

Rose was not so comforted by the dark trees, and she crossed her arms, glancing around anxiously. Eleisha was proud of her, though. She’d overcome her own fears and provided much-needed assistance tonight.

“This way,” Seamus said.

Eleisha turned quickly to see his transparent form standing near a hidden, overgrown path into the forest. True to his word, he’d popped in to play their guide. She motioned to Maxim with her right hand.

“Come on. Follow me.”

This was the first time she’d simply asked him to follow—without driving in a mental command—and she wondered if he understood her, or if he’d agree even if he did understand. But to her relief, he stepped after her, moving much more easily in bare feet, and Rose brought up the rear. Seamus floated down the path with his feet just about an inch off the ground, and they traveled down the path, through the dense trees, for about ten minutes before emerging into a second, smaller graveyard, this one much older, with headstones dating back to the early 1700s. There were weeds growing over all the graves, and the fence was decayed and broken. No one seemed to have been here in many years.

“There,” Seamus said, pointing.

Eleisha came around a thick oak tree and saw a small shack beyond the graveyard. While the shack was somewhat decrepit, the roof was intact, and it boasted a few windows. She hurried over—keeping one eye on Maxim—and opened the door. The main room was dusty, but she could see chairs and a broken table. A bedroom was visible at the back. The walls were thick, and the few windows could be covered.

“Oh, Seamus, this is good.” She turned. “Rose, come inside. I think we can make this work.”

Rose didn’t waste any time walking through the door, but Maxim hesitated, cocking his head and pointing back at the trees. “Theeere,” he tried to say.

“No, not there,” Eleisha told him. “We need to sleep in here. It will be safe. I’ll show you.”

Although pleased at his attempt to communicate with words, she noticed that he looked even whiter now. His slender face was glowing in the darkness. How long had it been since he’d fed?

Cautiously, he examined the door frame, and she suddenly realized she’d never seen him inside a building except for the little home he’d made in London. She took a few steps back and motioned him forward.

“It’s all right.”

Looking upward, he moved in after her, but his body was tight, as if he expected an attack at any moment. Then to her surprise, he pointed at the window and shook his head.

“Oh, Rose, he’s worried about the windows. That’s another good sign.”

Maxim could not be completely mad if he was rationalizing concerns about things like windows when dawn was not far off. But Rose didn’t answer. She only stood near the wall with her arms crossed and her eyes closed. Now that they had reached their destination, some of her armor was beginning to weaken and break down. Eleisha brought her a chair.

“Sit here.”

As Rose sank down, Eleisha moved into the bedroom. It didn’t have any windows at all but was completely enclosed by four walls. She grabbed two dusty blankets and hurried back out to the main room, covering both windows completely.

“See?” she asked Maxim. “Safe now.”

He studied the blankets, sniffing one of them. From what Eleisha could guess, this had once been the home of a graveyard caretaker. When the larger cemetery, nearer the road, had gone in, this shack must have been abandoned.

“Seamus, how did you find this place?” she asked.

“I told you,” he answered, standing near Rose and looking down at her with some concern. “I widened my search last summer, and I just chanced upon it. I sometimes zone in on cemeteries. I’m not sure why.”

“You pick up on cemeteries?” Eleisha moved toward him, worried now. “But if that’s how you found it, the girl ghost could find it, too.”

“I don’t think so. She’ll spend at least several nights searching London, and we’re an hour outside the city. Even if she widens her range, there is too much ground to cover. We’re safe for now, and I’ll keep my senses open.”

He sounded so sure of himself that his words made her feel safer.

“I’m glad you’re with us,” she said simply.

Well . . . they had shelter, in a place where no one would find them, and now it was time to turn to the next problem. Eleisha had always been a firm believer in taking one problem at a time. She briefly wondered what to do and reached a decision quickly.

“Rose, you just rest here with Seamus. Maxim, come in here with me.”

He turned from the window, watching her as she backed into the bedroom, and she could not read anything in his expression, but his skin was too white, and she knew he must be starving.

Once inside the bedroom, she slipped down against the front wall, out of Rose’s sight line, and he followed, crouching and cocking his head. It had been several hours since any of his actions had caused her injury—not since the attack by the orange cat—but she wouldn’t be able to drop her guard just yet, and she had to remain aware that he was unpredictable and dangerous. He was also a great deal stronger than she was, and she’d need to handle this next act carefully.

“Here, sit,” she said.

He dropped from his crouch to sit down beside her, and she was positive he was beginning to remember and comprehend more and more words. But there were no words to explain what she was about to do, and she simply put her wrist to her mouth and tore it open to expose the veins. Then she held it up for Maxim.

“Drink.”

Her blood would not nourish him as a mortal’s would. It was the equivalent of trying to give someone half-digested food. But in the distant past, another vampire had once done this for her, and she’d done it for Philip, and it did provide life force and energy.