Winter's Light (14 page)

Chapter 22

Winter dreamt, but her dreams were dark. There was nothing to see, only vague sensations (being lifted and carried), smells (aftershave at first, then later car leather) and sounds (voices speaking in another language –
Russian
? A car engine starting, tyres crunching on gravel). In her dream there was no Benedict, no Sam, no Jasmine. No Blake. She was alone, but this didn’t alarm her. Instead, it was a relief. She had only herself to worry about and no-one to fear.

It was with some reluctance that she groggily awoke an hour or so later, leaving the comforting nothingness of the void and returning to a wakeful state of confusion and uncertainty. Opening her eyes in a dimly lit room, her first thought was that everything that had happened in the cemetery had been part of her dream, that the jumbled collection of smells and sounds she remembered experiencing had only been the epilogue. It didn’t take her very long to realise she was mistaken. Seconds really. For one thing, she’d never seen this room before.

She was lying on a pale blue, lumpy couch. A red-shaded lamp glowed dully on a small table next to her head. In the back of her mind a memory ignited: waking up in a similar disorientated state in the Velasco Place three months ago. This room, however, was much more welcoming than that chamber of shadows; very similar to her own living room in fact with its two couches, tall bookcase and television in the corner.

Winter slowly sat up. Her head was pounding and her body felt bruised and battered, like she’d just been thrown down a flight of stairs. Tentatively she touched her throat, wincing at the tenderness of it. Slowly her mind reconstructed the events that had led her here – Sam, Morningside, Jasmine and Benedict, his burning lips pressed against hers. She shuddered at that part of the memory, still tasting his tongue in her mouth. At the last moment, she’d been saved from Benedict’s fatal kiss by a blinding white light. The people wielding this heavenly blaze were probably the ones who’d brought her here.

Where were they now?

A familiar smell pricked her nostrils – elderflower. She spotted a small clay oil burner standing on the coffee table, very similar to the ones Sam had deposited in her house. Grey smoke slowly drifted from it carrying the pungent scent of the oil. Whoever had brought her here clearly knew a thing or two about the Demori and how to keep them away.

Sam!

Winter’s heart jolted anxiously at the thought of him lying somewhere in the cemetery. Benedict or no Benedict she needed to get back there and help him. Standing too quickly, Winter felt the ground lurch dangerously beneath her. She gripped the armrest of the couch for support until the dizzy spell passed.

There were two doors leading out of the room. She went to the first one and tried the handle. Dismayed to find it locked, she tried the other one. It too was locked. Frowning, she stepped back and considered the problem. Why would her saviours feel the need to lock up an unconscious girl? She now heard footsteps on the other side of the door coming towards her.

Taking a few cautious steps backwards, Winter glanced around quickly for anything that might serve as a weapon. Just in case the situation called for it. The lamp would do. Moving to her left, she positioned herself within arm’s reach just as the door opened.

Winter was momentarily too stunned to speak. Dominic was standing there in the doorway. Lucy’s meek boyfriend, though there was something decidedly changed about him. He seemed to be standing taller, his shoulders back and chest pushed forward. Gone were the thick horn-rimmed glasses and buttoned down white shirt, replaced with a clear-eyed stare and slim-fitting dark brown jumper that clung to his muscular physique.

‘Good. You’re awake,’ he said, as though their meeting in this strange house had been prearranged.

‘Dominic? What are you —’

‘My name is Yuri Protevich, Winter. Not Dominic.’

Still struggling to accept the change in his appearance, Winter’s confused thoughts were sent into a deeper spin by this revelation.

‘Yuri? I don’t —?’

‘You have lots of questions,’ he said, calmly cutting her off. ‘Come with me and I’ll try my best to answer them.’ He stepped aside and gestured for her to enter the hallway with him.

Winter hesitated a moment, unsure whether or not she could trust this man who was clearly much more than he’d seemed. He even sounded different now, his accent falling away, revealing some kind of European lilt.
Russian
, she guessed from his name.

Yuri smiled encouragingly at her and while she was still very muddled about the situation, the smile was enough for her to follow him. He closed the door behind her and gently led her into the hallway with its incongruous floral wallpaper, and down to another door which he pushed open, revealing a small kitchen.

Stepping into the room, Winter was incredibly relieved to see Jasmine sitting at the round kitchen table, nursing what looked like a mug of hot chocolate.

‘Win!’ She rushed towards Winter and threw her arms around her, nearly knocking her to the ground. Grinning weakly, Winter gently pried Jasmine off her. ‘Hey, Jas.’

Jasmine’s face crinkled with concern. ‘Are you okay? I was out cold so I didn’t see what happened. Did that creep hurt you?’

Winter’s relieved expression faltered as the image of Benedict’s demonic smile momentarily flashed before her eyes.

‘I’ll live,’ she said, quickly composing herself. ‘I think I need to sit down though.’ Her legs still felt less like muscle and bone and more like ice-cream, liable to melt away at any moment. Jasmine helped her to a seat at the table.

‘Are you sure you’re okay? I wanted to stay with you but he,’ she nodded derisively at Yuri standing in the doorway, ‘wouldn’t let me.’

Winter tried for a more reassuring smile this time. ‘Don’t worry, I’m fine. You know me, Jas – I don’t break easily. How are you?’ She’d just noticed the ugly purple bruise below Jasmine’s right eye.

Jasmine shrugged. ‘My back’s killing me from where I fell down, but it’s nothing a hot bath and a couple of painkillers won’t cure.’

‘Your eye . . .’

‘Yeah, the prick got me a good one. But it looks much worse than it feels. Lucky we had our grad photos taken yesterday, huh?’

‘Can I get you a drink, Winter? Hot chocolate perhaps? I have marshmallows,’ Yuri asked, eyebrows raised hopefully.

‘We have to go back for Sam,’ she said, ignoring his question. ‘He’s hurt somewhere in the cemetery. Benedict —’

‘Sam’s being taken care of, ’ Yuri answered calmly as he moved to the fridge. ‘You really should drink something. Perhaps some fruit juice instead of hot chocolate? You could do with the vitamin boost.’

‘What do you mean he’s being taken care of?’ Winter demanded.

‘Just that. His wounds are being tended to. There is no cause for concern.’

Frowning, she watched him take a bottle of tomato juice from the fridge and pour her a glass. ‘By who? Who’s taking care of him?’

‘My wife,’ Yuri replied, this statement rendering Winter momentarily speechless.
Yuri was married?

He placed the juice in front of her and looked at her expectantly.

‘Tomato juice is full of vitamin B.’

‘Look, I must be suffering some kind of concussion because nothing you’re saying is making sense to me right now.’ Winter spoke slowly and carefully so there was no mistaking her. ‘Please, Dominic – Yuri – whatever your name is, just tell me what’s going on.’

‘I’ve been asking the same thing for the last hour but he won’t say anything!’ Jasmine said, picking her moment to chime in. ‘He wouldn’t let me call your sister. Or my mum. All he’s done is freak me out. Keeps offering to make me drinks. And food.’

Yuri sighed wearily, his gaze flicking between the two girls. ‘Drink your drink first and then I’ll answer your questions.’ Now the glass was in front of her, Winter realised she was desperately thirsty, her throat dry as a dusty well. She picked up the glass and gulped the contents down quickly.

‘Good girl. I’ll pour you another. The Demori’s kiss can leave one . . . depleted,’ Yuri said, taking the empty glass from her to refill it. ‘I’m sorry to have scared you both. You can call whoever you like. I just wanted us to have a talk first. To explain why I’m here in Hagan’s Bluff .’

Yuri returned with a freshly filled glass, passed it to Winter and sat down.

‘You’re obviously not a drug rep,’ she said, frowning over her drink at him.

‘No, I’m not,’ he replied, with a shake of his head. ‘I came here for one reason,’ he said, his dark eyes holding hers. ‘To watch you, Winter.’

Chapter 23

Unsettled by his confession, Winter sipped her drink in silence, wary of revealing too much of her reaction. An instinct was telling her to play her cards close to her chest. At least until she figured out just who the hell Yuri was.

‘Okay,’ she said, nodding slowly. ‘You came here to watch me. Why?’

Studying her closely, gauging how his words affected her, Yuri continued, ‘Three months ago we received a phone call from Caleb Bennet. The same night he . . . the night he passed.’

Involuntarily, Winter’s mouth dropped open in surprise. ‘You’re with the Bane?’

An amused smile tugged at the corners of Yuri’s mouth. ‘It never fails to make me feel like a character in a comic book when I hear that name spoken aloud, but yes I belong to the initiative you call the Bane, though we rarely refer to ourselves as such. To each other we are called Bonnaires, in honour of our matriarch and her family line.’

Matriarch . . .
Winter remembered her conversation with Sam in Morningside. ‘You work for Sam’s aunt?’

Yuri seemed surprised she knew this information. ‘Yes. Her name is Magdalene Bonnaire. A great lady – she’s been the head of our operation in Europe for the past thirty years. Ever since Matthias, her father, passed away.’ There was a plate of cookies sitting in the centre of the table. Freshly baked by the look of them. Yuri reached over and grabbed one, allowing Winter to mentally catch up.

She stared at the beads of condensation rolling slowly down the side of her glass of juice, thinking about Yuri’s use of the word ‘operation’.

An operation suggested many individuals working towards a common goal. All this time she’d thought the Bane’s vendetta had been a deeply personal one – Caleb trying to fulfil his great-great-grandfather’s oath to destroy the son of Ariman, but her assumption had been wrong. Just as she’d been wrong about Blake and Claudette being the only Demori. Winter was beginning to understand that the drama she’d unwittingly become a part of was much more complex than she’d realised.

Yuri bit into the cookie. ‘Chocolate chip. Delicious.’ His eyes sought Winter’s once more, shining with a shrewdness she didn’t care much for. ‘Magdalene was the one who sent Caleb to this country after Blake Duchamp.’

Hearing Yuri say Blake’s name, Winter paled. He nodded, smiling knowingly.

‘I thought that name might get your attention. Blake Duchamp, son of Ariman. Son of the First.’ His left eyebrow shot up quizzically. ‘You were in the church too, weren’t you? When it all happened . . .’

‘Hey, pal! Ease off!’ Jasmine said, glaring across the table at Yuri.

‘I didn’t mean offence,’ Yuri said, holding up his hands in a gesture of innocence.

‘It’s fine, Jas.’ Winter nodded. ‘I was there.’

‘As I was saying,’ Yuri continued, tactfully deciding not to dwell on the subject of Blake. ‘We received a phone call from Caleb Bennet. A crazy, barely comprehensible phone call. I found her, he kept saying over and over again. I found her.’ He paused for emphasis. ‘The Key. We were understandably sceptical. It had not been the first time he’d made such a claim and been wrong. Caleb was always considered a little . . . erratic.’

Winter thought Yuri was being incredibly diplomatic.
Insane
is the word she would’ve chosen. She remembered the mad glint in Caleb’s eyes as he’d advanced towards her in the church, axe raised over his head, ready to cleave her in two.

‘After his death, it was decided by Magdalene that we should investigate what he’d told us. Just in case he was right. My wife and I were sent here to Hagan’s Bluff to track down the name Caleb had given us and acquire as much information as possible. That name was Winter Adams.’

‘Is that why you pretended to be my sister’s boyfriend?’

Even though she was still reeling from everything she’d learnt so far, she could feel the anger at this deception beginning to boil in the back of her mind. Her sister had been so happy these past few weeks – the happiest she’d been since before their parents’ death. Thinking of the crushing disappointment Lucy had in store for her made Winter mad. And for what? Just so this guy could spy on her?

‘Yes. It was the only way I thought I could get close enough to observe you without arousing your suspicions.’ At least he had the good sense to look guilty. If he hadn’t, Winter’s anger might have boiled over.

‘I assure you I took no pleasure in using your sister in such a way. She’s a fine woman.’

‘You total bastard,’ Jasmine hissed, regarding Yuri coldly. Winter glanced across at her friend, and not for the first time, felt blessed to have Jasmine in her life.

Yuri cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the critical appraisals Winter and Jasmine were giving him. ‘I don’t blame you for thinking badly of me. I did what I had to do,’ he hurried on, eager to leave the subject of Lucy behind. ‘Originally my investigation was to take place over a number of months. During that time I was to infiltrate your family and gain your trust. Something happened last night though. Something I only learnt when I returned home this morning. We received word from Paris that there had been a breach —’

The door to the kitchen swung open, distracting Yuri mid-sentence, and a goddess entered the room.