by M. J. Hearle
The food was nearly ready, the clear plastic lid of the container rendered opaque with steam. She could hear the food inside sizzle and pop. Just before the microwave timer counted down to one she stopped the cycle, a habit she’d picked up from Lucy who also hated the timer’s shrill tone, and using a tea towel shifted the Tupperware to the table. A plume of steam billowed out, carrying with it the smell of melted cheese, fish and tomatoes as she lifted the top.
The table set, Winter took a seat and let out a deep sigh. Nefertem, who had been lurking beneath the kitchen table, leapt up onto her lap. While she stroked his soft ginger fur, she realised something was missing. She was tired, stressed and more than a little on edge with the prospect of Benedict lurking outside, but she wasn’t sad. The darkness that had lurked at the periphery of her vision ever since losing Blake was gone. She couldn’t stop a hopeful smile from twitching at the corners of her mouth.
The sound of an engine humming as it came up the driveway chased the smile from her face. Lucy had come home early! Shooing Nefertem off her lap, Winter dashed into the hallway and beat loudly on the bathroom door.
‘Sam? My sister’s home!’ There was no reply from inside and the shower was still running. With the noise of the water Sam mustn’t have been able to hear her. Winter knocked again, growing more panicked. Sam’s photograph had been trumpeted by all the media outlets, usually accompanied by a bold headline that said, ‘WANTED FOR MURDER’.
If Lucy came home and found a naked boy in her bathroom she’d be outraged – if she came home and found a naked criminal in her bathroom there was no telling what she’d do. Scream? Call the police? Attack Sam with a kitchen knife?
Downstairs she could hear the garage door groan as it was pulled down, followed by voices. Great! Dominic was with her. The situation had just become more precarious.
‘Sam – you need to hide!’ she yelled through the door before remembering the crossbow and the other paraphernalia he’d left in the kitchen – the duffle bag, the blood-splattered trenchcoat, the oil burner, the machete.
She bounded down the hallway feeling a glimmer of relief when she heard the shower finally shut off. Hopefully, Sam was hiding himself. If he wasn’t there was nothing she could do now. Listening keenly for her sister’s approach – they were coming up the stairs now! – she rushed around the kitchen, haphazardly piling his belongings into the duffle bag. She stumbled quickly to her room, dumped the bag, and slammed the door just as Lucy and Dominic stepped into the hallway.
‘Win,’ Lucy said, with a surprised expression. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you had a party to go to.’
‘I did,’ she said, her heart hammering in her chest. Unable to come up with any other explanation on the fly, she added abruptly, ‘It finished. You’re home early.’ She moved past them into the living room drawing their attention away from the bathroom at the end of the hall, which was mercifully silent. Sam must have heard them talking and wisely chosen to keep his presence unknown.
‘The movie was sold out so instead, Dominic took me to get dessert at Milano’s,’ Lucy said, following Winter into the living room and putting down her handbag. Dominic smiled at Winter over Lucy’s shoulder.
‘Was the party fun?’ he asked politely.
‘Lots of fun,’ Winter nodded a little too enthusiastically. I saw a vision of my dead boyfriend and nearly got my soul sucked out by a monster – it was a blast, Dom! Her eyes flicked to the doorway and the hallway beyond. If she could just keep Dominic and Lucy occupied then maybe Sam would be able to sneak out of the bathroom and make it to her bedroom without being caught.
Lucy frowned at her. ‘Is everything okay? You’re acting . . . funny.’
Winter forced an innocent smile. ‘I’m fine. Absolutely fine.’ She sat down on the couch and attempted to appear nonchalant. ‘I’m good,’ she added for emphasis.
Lucy’s frown deepened. ‘Have you been drinking?’
Winter was genuinely shocked by the accusation. ‘Of course not. I’m under-age.’
Lucy’s right eyebrow shot up but she didn’t say anything. If Dominic wasn’t here, Winter doubted she would have been able to restrain herself from pursuing this line of questioning. Lucy began to move back towards the hallway.
‘Where are you going?’ Winter demanded.
Lucy paused in the doorway. ‘To the bathroom. If that’s okay with you?’ Shaking her head in bemusement, she left Dominic and Winter alone.
Dominic appeared a little uncomfortable without Lucy as a buffer. ‘So, you’re graduated. You must be over the moon.’
Winter didn’t answer him at first. She was listening for Lucy’s scream upon discovering Sam. When it didn’t happen she allowed herself a moment of relief.
‘Um, sorry?’ She remembered Dominic’s question and continued distractedly, ‘Yes, totally over the moon. It feels great.’ There was nothing at all in her tone that indicated this was the truth.
‘Your sister told me you’re thinking of applying for a marketing degree at Newington. My cousin went there. It’s a good school.’
Winter shrugged, her eyes on the doorway. She was thinking of no such thing. Even if she went to university she doubted she’d study marketing. Marketing was Lucy’s goal for her – but none of this seemed important right now. Why was Lucy taking so long?
Maybe Sam had deployed some of his Bane training and knocked Lucy out. If so, then this situation was about to get even more stressful. Would he deal with Dominic next? Then what? Would she have to run away with him? Two fugitives on the road.
She heard the toilet flush, followed by the tap running as Lucy washed her hands. Winter released the breath she’d been holding.
There were footsteps in the hallway and Lucy reappeared. She didn’t look happy.
‘Can you remember to put the fan on next time you have a shower? It’s like a Russian bathhouse in there.’
Winter was too stumped by her lucky escape to answer straightaway. ‘Of-of course, no problem,’ she stammered, a grin spreading across her face. ‘I guess I forgot.’
Lucy frowned at her grin, but let it pass without comment, instead asking Dominic, ‘Can I make you a tea or coffee?’
‘That would be great. I’d love a tea.’
‘What about you, Win? Tea?’ The question was innocent, however her eyes regarded Winter suspiciously. I smell a rat, missy, they seemed to say. What are you trying to hide? Again, Winter was silently grateful for Dominic’s presence. She didn’t think she’d hold up under one of Lucy’s interrogation sessions with her nerves in their currently frayed state.
‘Sure,’ Winter said, trying to clear her gaze of any emotion that might hint at her anxiety. Where was Sam?
Lucy left Dominic and Winter alone again as she walked into the kitchen.
‘I probably shouldn’t be drinking tea this late, but I guess tomorrow’s the weekend.’ Dominic smiled a little uncertainly and Winter felt a pang of guilt for treating him so rudely. The poor guy probably thought she hated him.
‘Why not live a little, right?’ Winter said with a friendly shrug, trying to make up for her odd behaviour.
‘Absolutely. I should have asked for coffee.’
‘Don’t go crazy now.’
Dominic laughed at that, his laughter cut short by Lucy’s voice bellowing from the kitchen.
‘Winter!’
Both of them were startled by the volume and outraged tone, their faces sharing similar perplexed expressions as Lucy stormed back into the room holding two plates in her hands.
‘What’s going on? The table’s set for two people. Is someone here?’
Winter had completely forgotten about the dishes. She’d been in too much of a mad hurry clearing up Sam’s detritus to pack away the dinnerware and the food.
‘Of course not!’ she said, trying to sound indignant. Her mind strained to come up with a plausible excuse. ‘I mean Jasmine and I were going to have some dinner. But . . . she just left. Before you got here.’
>
Lucy’s gaze narrowed. ‘Winter Adams if you have a boy here I want to know about it!’
‘Lucy, I —’ Winter panicked at the prospect of Lucy pulling the house apart and stumbling across Sam. She couldn’t lie anymore, her mind was completely blank.
‘I think you’re being a little paranoid, Luce. She said her friend just left,’ Dominic said to Lucy with a vaguely reproachful expression. He stood up and whispered something into her ear. Something that sounded very much like, ‘Give the kid a break.’
Lucy’s gaze flicked to Dominic in question. He nodded in encouragement, and she let out an exasperated sigh before glancing back at Winter, her eyes not entirely free of their accusatory expression. ‘Sorry, Win. I didn’t mean to put you on the stand.’
‘It’s okay,’ Winter said, amazed at Dominic’s heroic intercession.
‘I’ll help you make the tea,’ he said, putting his arm around Lucy and guiding her to the kitchen. Before they left the room, he half turned and winked at Winter. Winter shot him a grateful look back. It seemed she’d sold Dominic a little short.
Hearing the sound of teacups clinking in the kitchen Winter stealthily crept into the hallway towards her room. Sam’s clothes and weapons were still on the floor where she’d dumped them.
‘Sam?’ she whispered into the empty room. No reply came. She got down onto her knees and checked under the bed in case he’d slid under there at the sound of Lucy’s approach. Nope, there were just a few stray socks and her clarinet case covered in dust.
Frowning, she stood up and went back into the hallway. Maybe he’d jumped out of the window? The idea of him skittering down the side of the house in just a towel was almost comical, an image straight out of the old British comedies her dad had loved.
Winter was just about to check the bathroom when she noticed the hallway cupboard was slightly ajar. She went and opened it slowly revealing a wet and shivering half-naked Sam. Winter averted her eyes from his glistening torso.
‘Is it safe?’ he whispered through chattering teeth.
Chapter 14
Blushing madly, Winter led Sam quickly to her room, making it back into the living room just as Lucy and Dominic were returning with the tea. The three of them sat and talked pleasantly for the next fifteen minutes or so – Winter was able to hold up her end of the conversation without too much difficulty now that Sam was safely hidden. Lucy seemed visibly delighted that Winter and Dominic were getting along so well. Of course she didn’t know it was because they shared something of a conspirators’ bond. Winter still wondered why Dominic had chosen to bail her out.
Perhaps it was an effort to win her over? If this was the case, then Dominic could consider her well and truly won over. Now, if he could just keep Lucy occupied while Winter smuggled Sam out of the house then . . .
‘How about we let Winter get some sleep? It’s been a big day,’ he said during a lull in the conversation. Winter could have hugged him. The man was psychic.
Lucy looked over at him and read the look in his eyes. It said quite plainly, It’s time for us to be alone. ‘Um . . . sure,’ she said, and Winter saw her sister’s cheeks turn pink. It had been a long time since Lucy had had a guy stay over.
Smiling shyly at Dominic, she glanced over at Winter. ‘Are you tired?’
‘Oh yeah,’ Winter said, trying to muster up a fake yawn. ‘Bone tired.’
‘Okay then, we’ll leave you to it.’ They both stood up and moved towards the hallway.
‘Goodnight,’ Winter said, smiling supportively at her sister. ‘Night, Dominic.’
He smiled at her, and they shared a brief moment of eye contact that cemented her feelings for him. Lucy was in safe hands.
Before they left, her sister paused in the doorway and asked, ‘Have you been burning incense or something? There’s a funny smell in the air.’
‘Um . . . no.’ She’d grown accustomed to the elderflower, but it was still there, smelling as strongly as ever.
A slight crease appeared in Lucy’s forehead. ‘Weird.’ That look of suspicion crept back into her eyes, but Dominic was already pulling her gently away. Before she disappeared down the hallway, she said to Winter, ‘Turn off the lights before you go to bed. And open a window.’
Winter sighed in relief, marvelling that she’d made it through the ordeal. It had been a close call. She stood and with Nefertem trailing in her wake, made her way through the house flicking off switches (she made sure the windows were shut and bolted). As she headed for her bedroom, the image of Sam’s muscular body, slick with the water and pink from the heat, floated near the forefront of her mind. She had to pause a moment before opening the door to compose herself. Her cheeks were feeling unusually hot.
Sam had hidden himself in the corner so he wasn’t visible until she’d stepped into the room. She saw with relief that he was fully dressed now, having squeezed into Beanpole’s sweater, which hugged his chest and arms tightly.
‘That was close,’ she said, keeping her tone low just in case their voices carried.
Nodding, Sam let out the breath he’d been holding. ‘Is your sister —?’
‘In her room,’ Winter finished for him. ‘It’s safe for you to leave now.’
Sam picked up his crossbow and slung it around his back. ‘I’ll stay in your backyard tonight. In the shadows out of sight. The elderflower should keep Benedict away but if something happens, if he manages to get in somehow, I want you to signal me.’ He pulled a torch with a thick rubber handle, the kind police officers carried, out of his duffle bag and gave it to her. ‘Just flick it on if there’s trouble.’
‘So you’re going to spend all night outside? When will you sleep?’
He smiled reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry about me.’
‘But what if Benedict —’
‘He won’t.’ Seeing that she was far from convinced, he glanced around her room then walked over and picked up a red scarf from the few she had hanging from a hook next to her wardrobe. ‘I’ll tie this around one of the tree branches outside before I go in the morning, so you’ll know I’m alive and well.’
Winter was still unsure of this plan. She didn’t like the idea of Sam outside in the dark alone all night but she couldn’t very well let him stay in the house with Lucy and Dominic around. ‘Don’t forget,’ she said, pointing at the scarf for emphasis.
‘There’s something else,’ Sam said, his expression growing curiously bashful. He knelt over his duffle bag again and rummaged around inside before withdrawing a book; a weathered, leather-bound journal that looked oddly familiar. It took a second or two to remember where she’d seen it before – the Velasco Place. When she’d gone to the house to drop off the jacket Blake had left with her, she’d come across a box full of such journals. Blake’s diaries.
‘Is that —’ she asked, her pulse racing. She’d been sure all the journals had been destroyed in the fire lit by Sam and his brothers, the fire that had claimed the Velasco Place.
‘Yes,’ Sam said, handing it to her. ‘I stole it from his study, the night we . . . took you.’ His face reddening further, he continued in a rushed, awkward manner. ‘I don’t know why. Father told us to burn everything. It was lying on a desk in his study and I just took it. Later, after everything that happened on the mountain, I was feeling so confused, mixed up about everything. I was hoping there might be something in here that might help me understand the point of it all. All the death.’ Sam’s eyes met Winter’s, and she saw the deep remorse in them. ‘What I read didn’t change my mind completely, the Demori are dangerous – even you have to admit that – but I learnt enough to figure out not everything Father told us was true. They’re not all evil monsters. Blake wasn’t. You were right about him and we were wrong.’ He knelt down again and started searching through the duffle bag. Winter could only stand there and watch him silently, shaken by his confession. By his apology.
‘I was going to send the journal to you,’ Sam continued. ‘Anonymously. Except it’s written
in French and I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to read the words. So I started translating it a few weeks ago.’ He stood up again with another book in his hands. This one was a plain blue exercise notebook. He cautiously held it out for Winter to take, as though worried she might throw it back in his face.
‘I’m not finished yet, but I thought you might need something to keep yourself distracted tonight. What with everything that’s happened.’
‘You speak French?’ she asked, taking the book gently from his hands. It was much easier to ask a question, focusing on this superfluous detail, rather than put into words the complex emotional reaction she was experiencing.
Sam shrugged modestly. ‘Yeah. I spent the first ten years of my life living just outside of Paris.’ He gestured at the two books in her hands, his expression growing achingly sincere. ‘It doesn’t make up for anything that happened. I know that. I just want you to believe that I’m sorry for what my family did to him. And to you. It’s been —’
‘Blake’s alive.’
It was out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Sam’s gift and heartfelt speech had left her reeling, temporarily unable to filter her thoughts or emotions. She needed to tell somebody about Blake, and any misgivings she’d had about trusting Sam no longer seemed justified. Not after everything he’d just said.
‘What are you talking about?’ he said, a deep crease appearing between his eyes.
‘Blake’s alive, Sam,’ she repeated, her heartbeat quickening as the words left her lips. Saying it aloud somehow made it seem even more fantastically real. ‘Before you found me tonight, the lodestone —’ she placed the books down on her bed and pulled out the lodestone, holding it out for Sam to see. ‘It started glowing. And then I saw him. I saw Blake. He was alive, but in terrible pain.’
