Vowed (27 page)

Chem’s flat is large but made smaller by all the books and knick-knacks that seem to cover every single horizontal surface.

He shows us into the comfortable living room and Dante sits down with a sigh, fishing the camera out of his pocket. Chem goes off to find his nan and soon she’s in the room, a tiny wiry
woman who takes one look at Dante and immediately goes into mothering mode. She makes us each a large mug of tea; Dante’s is served black with enough honey stirred into it to kill a horse.
She makes sure he drinks it up before smiling a tight smile that reveals a great set of shiny teeth.

‘You children,’ she says, although she looks no older than sixty herself. ‘Always running around like there is no tomorrow. Just sit here, relax and drink your tea. It will
make you feel better.’

‘Do you think whatever spell was placed on the flat affected you too? In the end, I mean,’ I ask Dante when she heads out of the room to make him some plain toast. Chem’s busy
plugging his laptop in so we can look at the pictures Dante took; he looks startled at the overheard question.

‘I suppose so,’ Dante groans, leaning back against the sofa and pressing a hand against his forehead. ‘I feel like death.’

‘You look it. What happened?’

‘I was fine, following Shen around, and then we get to the main living area and, man, it felt like I got hit by a fist to the head. I actually stumbled into a coffee table and then had her
shouting at me too. It wasn’t my idea of fun.’

‘But you got photos?’

He nods and pushes the camera towards Chem. ‘Yes. The lighting wasn’t too good in there but I did what I could.’

‘Did you See anything?’ I ask him, touching my eyes to show him what I meant.

‘Nothing that jumped out at me, sorry.’ He grimaces and rubs his eyes. ‘And I’m seeing double too. It feels weird: like somebody put me on a merry-go-round and spun it
really fast.’

Wordlessly, I press the back of my hand against his forehead and gasp when I feel how hot his skin is. I wonder if feeding my magic into him made him sick, and if this was somehow my fault. But
he was fine the other night when I did it.

Chem slides the SD card into the laptop and clicks a few things before turning it around so I can look through the photos. The flat wasn’t as tidy as Chem’s but it held a homely
quality I liked. Loads of pictures of little Marv, eventually joined by baby Tia. They were cute-looking kids. Marv’s room holds a large computer, with books and clothes strewn around. The
parents’ room is only a bit larger, with a built-in wardrobe and a small dresser by the window. There’s a framed photo on one wall of Mum and Dad, Marv and Tia. It looks pretty recent.
The other wall holds a landscape, a generic picture you’d find in IKEA or somewhere like that.

Tia’s room reflects her growing interest in everything. There are a lot of pink toys, but I also see some old beat-up cars, a train set and a box of Lego she must have inherited from Marv
at some stage. There are no pictures but there is a large mirror, at least three by four foot. The way Dante has taken the picture shows that the mirror is opposite the window.

‘Why are you frowning like that?’ Dante asks me, stretching forward so he can see what I’m looking at. ‘That’s Tia’s room.’

‘Did you feel anything weird when you were in there?’ I ask him.

‘No, it was just a little girl’s room made strange by her not being there.’

I keep flicking through the photos and eventually come back to the lounge area and feel my heart stutter in my chest when I see the tribal African masks lined up on either side of the front
door. I tap the screen.

‘This?’

Chem’s shuffled closer and looks at them. ‘I hate those bloody masks. Marv’s dad came back from Nigeria with them last year and they just freak me the hell out. If you go
there, you can see them following you around with their empty eye sockets. It’s creepy, right?’

Dante and I share a look. ‘Did he say why he bought them?’ I ask Chem.

‘No, he said some dude from this village he visited gave them to him. Said they’d keep him and his family safe against people with magic.’

‘Oh.’ I twist my lips into a wry smile. ‘Well then, that explains it.’

‘You mean it actually worked?’ Chem’s voice rose lightly and he cleared his throat. ‘Seriously?’

‘Yep, I couldn’t get into the flat.’

Chem’s eyebrows shot up in shock. ‘Wow. Okay.’ He watches me for a second before speaking again. ‘Do you think they have something to do with Tia being taken?’

‘No, if anything it made taking her harder,’ I reply. ‘This just proves that there must be two of them working together. One to get into her room, another waiting at the front
door to take the child.’

‘But how, if this other guy is using magic, does he get into the flat if the masks are stopping it from happening?’

‘The masks aren’t strong enough to protect the whole flat,’ I point out. ‘Just the main entrance or exit. So it leaves the other guy free to get in through the window. Or
wall. Or whatever.’

‘Thank you, Mrs . . .’ Dante looks blankly at Chem, realizing we don’t know his real name or his grandmother’s name. She’s just come in, carrying more tea and a
plate.

‘Just call me Auntie May, boy,’ she says with a laugh, putting the plate of toast down next to him. ‘This will help settle that stomach of yours. Charlie here can eat a whole
loaf of bread if you don’t watch him so count yourself lucky there’s any bread left to give you.’

Chem twitches when she calls him by his real name and I hide a smile. ‘Thanks so much for the tea and toast, Auntie May,’ I say. ‘We’ll be out of your hair in a few
minutes.’

‘Oh, girl, don’t be silly. Stay as long as you like. That boy needs to rest. Something nasty’s got hold of him, riding him like a demon.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Illness, can’t you see?’ She pressed a firm hand to Dante’s shoulder. ‘You get home and into bed, boy. You need to rest.’ With a last smile she heads off to
her room and we hear the TV go on, followed by the dialogue from the news.

‘Yeah, sorry about my grandma. She’s a bit weird now and again.’

‘I think she’s perfect,’ I tell him and I mean it. Being around Auntie May makes me miss my own nan so much. I like how bright her eyes are and how they twinkle with mischief.
I also like the way she trusts Chem and never once stopped to ask him who we are and what we’re doing here. I’m sure she has questions but she’s too polite to do so in front of
strangers.

‘I like her too. Looks like she can kick your butt.’

The wry expression at Dante’s comment on Chem’s face tells us that she can.

‘Back to the pictures,’ I say, watching as Dante takes a bite of the toast. ‘Did you see anything weird, Dante? Anything?’

‘Just those masks.’

‘Did you start feeling weird after you saw them?’

‘No, it was before. Almost as soon as I walked into the flat.’

‘Where are Marv and his mum now?’ I ask Chem.

‘They took them to the police station. His dad’s on his way home now. He works shifts.’

‘Did Marv tell you anything else that might be useful?’

Chem thought about it and shook his head. ‘No, I mean, the guy jumped down eight flights of stairs with Tia and there’s no sign of him or her. I’d say that’s pretty
unusual.’

‘Where’s your toilet?’ Dante’s question interrupts us. Chem points but Dante’s already moving towards the doorway; he slams the door shut behind him.

‘I’m okay.’

‘You are not okay.’

‘Maybe I had a bad pancake this morning.’

‘Then why aren’t I sick? Or Aiden or Kyle?’

‘Maybe it was only my pancake.’

‘Shut up and lie down.’

I watch him as he tries to get comfortable in the seat. About ten minutes into our drive he starts shivering. I turn the heating on high but it doesn’t seem to help. I can hear his teeth
clattering as fever grips him.

The sky’s grey and overcast and the nip in the air is a definite thing. Traffic’s not too bad and we get back to his flat without any further vomiting incidents, although there are a
few times when I think he’s going to splatter the interior of the car.

I help him into the house and shut the door behind me. The place is as empty as it was yesterday, with no sign that anyone’s been there since I left.

‘Which is your room again?’ I ask him and he points listlessly towards one of the closed doors. He sways against me and I feel a shudder go through his body. ‘Are you going to
be sick?’

‘No, no. I’m just cold. I don’t know what’s going on.’

I close my eyes in frustration. Just my luck to get saddled with him now that he’s going through some kind of flu episode. I push open the door to his room and barely register the huge bed
or any of the ruggedly attractive wooden furniture. It’s sure bigger than my tiny room.

‘Get changed,’ I tell him. ‘I’ll see if I can find any cold and flu medicine.’

‘There should be something in the kitchen cupboards, somewhere.’ He sits heavily on the bed and pulls off a shoe, letting it drop to the floor with a clunk. ‘I can’t
remember the last time I ever felt this shit.’

‘You look it,’ I assure him as I walk away. I dump my bag on the table and rummage around the cupboards until I find a medical kit, stocked with all kinds of painkillers and bandages
and disinfectant. The kit is even slightly better stocked than the one at home.

I make myself a cup of coffee and stir granules for Dante’s Lemsip into the hot water, watching them dissolve. There’s a loud
thunk
from Dante’s room and a muttered
curse followed by another
thunk
again.

I grab his mug and hurry to the room but knock before I open the door, keeping my eyes on the floor. ‘Okay for me to come in?’ Translation:
Are you naked?

‘Yes, can you help me, please?’

I push into the room to be met by Dante struggling to get up off the floor. He’s dressed in a pair of tracksuit bottoms and has a long-sleeved T-shirt gripped in his hand.

‘What happened?’ I put the mug down and walk over to help him.

‘I walked into the bloody wall,’ he mutters, taking his hand away from his face. A bright red line marks his eyebrow and cheek. ‘Misjudged the width of the door.’

‘And so what? You decided to walk through the wall instead?’

‘Something like that.’

My hand makes contact with the smooth skin across the contours of his abs and my pulse climbs as I steady him with my other hand as he sways crazily.

‘You often pretend to pass out when you’ve got a girl in your room?’ I ask him, grasping desperately for something to say because really, I am not comfortable being this close
to half-naked Dante. He feels as if he’s on fire but it’s a dry burning fire, with no slick sweatiness to his skin at all. His elaborate tribal tattoo with its wicked edges and weird
whorls runs from mid bicep to the curve of his shoulder and then onto his shoulder blade. The intricate pattern draws my gaze and, without realizing it, I run a tentative finger across one of the
coils, following its contour, before dropping my hand as if I’ve been stung. The tattoo felt weird under my touch, as if it had moved; I suppress a shiver of my own.

‘You’re funny,’ he says, shuddering under my touch as I pull him to the side and flip the duvet back. ‘My skin is so sensitive, it feels like your hands are on
fire.’

‘Uhm, no.’ I gulp. ‘They’re not, I promise. Sit down. Give me your shirt.’ I take it out of his grip and, making sure I’ve got it the right way round, I pull
it over his head. ‘There, put your arms through.’ I hover over him and watch him struggle but don’t offer to help further, suppressing the memory of how the tattoo felt under my
touch. When he eventually drops his arms with a heavy sigh I hand him the mug of Lemsip. ‘Here, drink this. Try to keep it down.’

The mug rattles against his teeth and he spills some but he manages to drink most of it, while pulling a face and moaning pathetically.

‘That stuff is disgusting. I’d rather be sick.’

‘Stop being a baby, and drink it.’ I push the proffered mug back. ‘Drink it all.’

‘So bossy,’ he mutters under his breath, taking giant gulps of the stuff before handing me the mug. ‘Done.’

‘Now lie down. Get some rest.’ I push him back against the pillow and drag the duvet over him. ‘Sleep.’

I’m halfway to the door when he calls my name and I turn back to look at him. He looks utterly feeble wrapped in his duvet, and I can see him shaking beneath it.

‘I know it’s unfair, but can you stay?’

I hesitate for a few seconds but then remember the files in the back of his car with my name and those of my family and nod. ‘I’ll stay till this evening. Your fever should break
soon.’

The smile he gives me is sweet. ‘Thanks, Kit. I promise to look after you when you get whatever this is.’

‘Yeah, not likely,’ I tell him, pulling the door shut, but his voice stops me.

‘No, don’t close the door. It makes me feel closed in. I can’t breathe.’

‘I’ll catch the monsters in your closet,’ I tell him, only partly joking. His dry chuckle follows me out of the room as I make my way back to the kitchen.

I pull out my notebook and the files that I have with me and start writing, listing the information gathered so far and trying to link things. I work distractedly for about an hour before
getting up to check on Dante. He’s asleep on his side but his bedding’s all twisted around him. I resist the urge to walk in and readjust the duvet so that it covers him better.

Instead I grab the keys on the entrance hall table and run out to his car. The bound files are where I left them this morning and I carry them back into the flat, locking the door behind me.

Dante’s still sleeping, making moaning noises under his breath, twitching uneasily in the grip of whatever dream’s got hold of him.

I get the camera out of my bag and hastily take photos of my parents’ files, doing my best not to pay attention to them. I don’t want to get caught looking through them by anyone and
I don’t know when Dante’s housemates are due back.

I thank my lucky stars that Kyle put a 4Gb memory card in the camera and make sure I take pictures of every single page. It takes about twenty minutes to do both files and I shuffle them back
into order, bind them up with their piece of ribbon and take them back out to the car. I replace them in the boot and half-cover them with other bits of debris that I found there.