Pure (Book 1, Pure Series) (12 page)

           
I felt a rush of sympathy for GM – she sounded so forlorn.
 
"Then you have to tell me what she saw," I said.

           
GM nodded and sighed deeply.
 
"I will tell you.
 
Though I do so with a heavy heart."

           
GM paused and a look of pain came into her face.
 
"Your mother had visions of a man.
 
She saw a man named Gleb Mstislav."

           
I drew in my breath sharply.
 
"Is that the man Galina believes killed my mother?"

           
GM bowed her head.
 
"Yes."

           
"And what do you believe about him?"

           
"I believe Gleb was a very bad man.
 
I believe he was a mobster.
 
I believe he killed a number of people."

           
"But not my mother?"

           
GM shook her head.
 
"No.
 
She died of a fever, Solnyshko.
 
I saw it myself."

           
"And now Galina believes that Gleb is back, and we are somehow in danger."

           
"Yes.
 
But that cannot be."

           
"Why not?
 
You said yourself that Gleb was a bad man."

           
"It cannot be because Gleb Mstislav is dead."

           
As GM said the words, a strange coldness came over me, though I hardly knew why.
 
I remembered now that GM had told Galina that the man they were discussing was dead.
 
If Gleb was dead, then surely none of us had anything to worry about.

           
GM looked at me sadly.
 
"I don't know anything else.
 
Solnyshko, you must work to push these 'visions' away.
 
I don't know where they come from, but I do know they aren't good for you."

           
"Who is Galina?" I asked.
 
"Why does she believe that she knows about my mother?"

           
"Galina and your mother were very good friends from the time they were small.
 
Galina, as she grew up, began to believe in the local superstitions of Krov.
 
To my despair your mother did also."

           
"You said my mother died of a fever, but to Galina you also said that superstition killed her.
 
What did you mean by that?"

           
GM pursed her lips together, as if working through something difficult.
 
Then she spoke.
 
"Your mother had the fever for many weeks.
 
The doctor urged her to stay in bed.
 
But Nadya kept sneaking out of the house.
 
She would ramble around town all night, and she was always worse when she returned in the morning.
 
She believed she was fulfilling some kind of mission, stopping some great evil.
 
One morning Nadya was found out in a petrified forest on the outskirts of Krov.
 
That is the morning her fever won.
 
Nadya was delirious and too weak to survive after that.
 
She only lived a few more days.
 
I wonder often if she would have lived, if she hadn't believed that she had to force herself to go out and fight monsters in the dark."

           
So, that's why GM had told me on Sunday that there was nothing in the dark.
 
She was afraid I would imitate my mother if I listened to Galina.
 
The pain in GM’s voice tugged on my heart.

           
"What was it that my mother thought she had to do?" I asked.

           
"I don't know," GM said.
 
"I know it had something to do with Gleb.
 
But what it was exactly, I truly don't know.
 
And I firmly believe that there was nothing in it.
 
Your mother had no supernatural calling.
 
And neither do you.
 
Trust me, Solnyshko."

           
GM gave me a steady, level look – as if she were trying to impress her words on me as much as possible.

           
I gave GM a hug.
 
I knew this had been hard for her.
 
"Thanks, GM, for telling me all of that."

           
She hugged me back tightly, and in that hug I could feel just how much she feared to lose me.

           
I felt calmer after talking to GM.
 
She had tried to answer my questions, but it sounded like only Galina could answer them properly, and she was gone.
 
I would have to figure things out on my own.
 
GM did not believe in the visions.
 
But I couldn't deny what I had seen in the mirror – not after it had translated itself into the real world.

           
That evening we ate dinner quietly, and I went up to my room to do my homework.
 
As I worked, though, my mind drifted.
 
I thought first of Charisse, but I pushed the thought away quickly.
 
Her angry words still stung, even in memory.
 
And as far as I could see, there was nothing I could do.
 
I had tried calling and texting her, but she wouldn't answer.
 
I certainly couldn't tell anybody about her plan – I could never be disloyal to Charisse like that.
 
All I could do was hope that she would eventually come to her senses.

           
I tried to get back to work, but my mind drifted next to the strange guy from the mirror and what GM had said.
 
The whole thing was oddly unnerving.
 
GM had said that my mother had had visions of Gleb Mstislav.
 
And Galina believed that the same man killed my mother.
 
GM disagreed, but she believed Gleb had been guilty of murder.
 
And I had been having visions of a strange guy – was I seeing Gleb Mstislav?
 
But I couldn't be – Gleb was dead, and I had seen the guy from my visions in the flesh.
 
I had even touched him.
 
So he couldn't be Gleb Mstislav.
 
A chill spread through my body –
unless he isn't what he seems
a small voice whispered.

           
Horrible thoughts crowded into my mind.
 
What if he is Gleb?
 
What if he is dead?
 
What if something is going on here that you don't understand?

           
I stood up and went to the window.
 
I opened the curtains and stared out into the darkness.
 
I thought back to the night calling that had plagued me until recently.
 
Now that I came to think about it, the night calling had stopped when the visions had started.
 
And the visions had stopped when I had finally met the guy from the mirror in person.
 
Though the idea was crazy, I began to wonder if someone was setting a trap for me.
 
While searching online on Monday for information about spirits and vampires, I had come across legends of supernatural creatures who planted ideas in the minds of potential victims and then lured them to their deaths.

           
I shook my head to clear it.
 
I couldn't think things like that – it was insane.
 
And how normal is seeing faces that aren't there in a mirror?
asked a voice in my head.

           
And then, entirely unbidden, a question popped into my mind.
 
What if the guy from the mirror is a vengeful ghost, returned from the grave to kill you just like he killed your mother?

           
I took a deep breath.
 
The idea was completely ridiculous.
 
It just wasn't possible.
 
But it occurred to me that there was a way to find out – I could ask him myself.
 
He'd said he would come if I called.
 
Say 'Katie Wickliff summons you
.'

           
I decided I would do it – I would call him.

           
I stood still and listened.
 
GM was still up and would be up for hours.
 
I didn't want her to be up when I tried it – though I wasn't sure why.
 
After all, it probably wouldn't work – how could it?
 
There was no way he could hear me speaking over any distance.
 
The only way he could hear me is if he were hanging around my house at night, hoping I would go outside and call him.
 
And if he did that, he was probably a psycho.

           
That was no good.
 
I couldn't think that way – it was only leading me down a different dark path.
 
I resolved to go outside after GM was asleep and call for the strange guy.
 
Then, when he didn't show up, I could prove to myself that he was neither vengeful ghost nor psycho.

           
I sat down at my desk again and forced myself to concentrate on my homework.

           
Time went by, but it went by as slowly as possible.
 
Eventually, I heard GM settle into her room for the night.
 
I waited a little while longer, and then I crept out into the night.

           
I stood in my driveway, looking up and down the street.
 
Everything was quiet.
 
There was no one to see my little experiment.

           
It occurred to me that as far-fetched as it might seem that the guy from the mirror was hanging out in my yard, I really should check just to be sure.

           
I went over the yard thoroughly with a flashlight.
 
We didn't have shrubbery, but we did have a few trees, and I shone my light up into their scantily clad branches.
 
No one was hiding up in our trees or anywhere in our yard that I could see.
 
I went to the shed in the back where we kept the lawn mower.
 
No one was in the shed, either.

           
Just to be sure I was covering all possibilities, I walked from one end of my street to the other slowly, going over my neighbor's yards with my flashlight.
 
As far as I could tell, no one was hiding on my street – or if someone was, there was no way he was hiding out close enough to my house to hear me speak.

           
I returned to my yard and went out back to stand under my bedroom window.

           
Feeling slightly foolish, I took a deep breath and prepared to summon the strange guy from the mirror.

           
There's no way this'll work
, I told myself.

           
I breathed out slowly.
 
Then in a whisper, I spoke the words he had told me to say.

           
"Katie Wickliff summons you."

           
There was a ripple in the air around me, and then a short sharp breeze.
 
The guy from the mirror was suddenly standing before me, his face pale in the dim light.

           
He grasped me by the wrist.

           
"What is it?" he demanded.
 
"What's wrong?"

           
He pulled me away from the house.
 
"Is he here?"

           
I was momentarily stunned.
 
All I could do was stare up at him.

           
"Katie, answer me."

           
"How did you get here?" I stammered.
 
"I searched my yard.
 
I searched the street.
 
You weren't there.
 
You couldn't possibly have heard me."

           
His grip on my wrist tightened.
 
"Is he here?"

           
"Who?" I asked.

           
He looked toward the house.
 
"Gleb Mstislav."

           
I forced myself to focus.
 
No matter how he had gotten here, I had called him for a reason.

           
"Gleb Mstislav," he repeated.
 
"Is he here?"

           
"You tell me," I said.

           
He blinked, and then stared at me puzzled.
 
"What are you talking about?"

           
"Tonight, my grandmother told me that my mother had visions of Gleb.
 
And I've been having visions, too.
 
Visions of you.
 
And then the other day you suddenly appeared in the flesh.
 
So who are you?
 
Are you Gleb returned to haunt me just as you haunted her?"

           
He seemed startled by my words.
 
"No.
 
I am not Gleb Mstislav."

           
"Then who are you?" I demanded.

           
"My name is William," he said.
 
"William Sursur."