"If your friend doesn't find anything," she began, "would you help me with something?"
"Of course."
"Don't say yes just yet," Bryony said. "You haven't heard what it is."
She glanced around before going on. "You know how my grandmother has a ghost in her house?"
"Yes." I had never seen the ghost myself—or even been to her grandmother's house. But Bryony had once given me an important message that she had said came from the ghost—so I was inclined to credit its existence.
Bryony took a deep breath. "I was hoping you would come over tonight and help me try to communicate with the ghost. Maybe it—maybe it saw what happened. But we would have to do it late at night. In fact, I'm going to have to sneak out of the house because I know my parents wouldn't like me to do something like that. And to be honest, I've never actually seen the ghost myself, and I'm not entirely sure how to contact it. But I would like to try, and I would like you to come with me."
I thought for a moment. If we tried to contact the ghost late at night, I would have to sneak out of the house, too—GM would never allow me to go if I explained what I was up to. Of course she would also be unhappy if she caught me in the attempt, but lately I had grown very good at sneaking out. And if it were, in fact, possible to contact the ghost, I'd be interested to hear what it had to say.
"I'll go with you tonight," I said.
"Are you sure?" Bryony looked at me cautiously. "I can't promise you that we'll actually be able to contact the ghost. Only my grandmother ever did that successfully. And she didn't do it often."
"That's okay," I said. "I happen to know that the supernatural can be unreliable. I'm still in."
"Thanks," Bryony said, smiling a little. "I'm really glad you're going to do this with me. I didn't want to do it alone. And thanks for being okay about the whole ghost thing to begin with. A lot of people would have freaked out."
"Don't worry," I said. "I've heard of things a lot stranger than ghosts. And it's possible it won't be necessary—my friend may have some idea of what's going on. He may even be able to find your grandmother."
"I hope so," Bryony said.
We began to walk toward the school, and as we reached the front doors, Bryony stopped and looked around.
"It's weird how few people are around," she said. "Usually everyone's going in and out all the time."
She paused. "Do you hear something?"
"It sounds like voices," I said.
The two of us walked around the side of the building, and we saw a crowd gathered at a little distance. Everyone appeared to be clustered around the library—a large, square structure that stuck out from the side of the school and was enclosed on all sides by glass—even on the side that sat inside the building. It was the one place in school where no one could hide what they were doing. I supposed it had been designed that way for a reason.
As we approached the crowd, I spotted Charisse and Branden standing toward the back, and we made our way over to them.
"Hey, guys," I said. "What's going on?"
From his towering height, Branden could see over most of the crowd, and he was the one who answered.
"There's a car," he said. "It crashed into the side of the library. Went right through the glass. I bet it's a mess in there."
"A car?" Bryony said. "Is anybody hurt?"
"I don't think so," Charisse replied. "They're saying that nobody was in the library when it happened. They think it was done overnight. And the driver of the car has disappeared."
"Do they know who it was?" I asked.
Branden shook his head. "Whoever it was probably ran off. They're searching the school right now."
"Are we allowed to go in?" Bryony asked.
"I don't know," Branden said. "I'd rather be out here. Although, it's possible you could get a better view from inside the library hallway."
"Maybe they'll cancel classes," he added hopefully.
A few moments later, the assistant principal appeared and announced that we were all to go to the auditorium. Once that was full, we were to go to the cafeteria.
With a great deal of grumbling, the crowd turned and went inside through the front doors.
Charisse, Branden, Bryony, and I all wound up in the auditorium. While we waited, the school was searched by the police, and eventually an announcement was made that no intruders had been found.
We were allowed to go on to our classes, and the police were going to maintain a presence at the school for the rest of the day, just in case anything else out of the ordinary happened.
Rumors swirled around in the halls, and everyone had a theory as to what had happened. A drunk driver, a disgruntled former student, and terrorists were the three most popular potential culprits, and as I made way to the cafeteria later in the afternoon, the crash was still the most popular topic of discussion.
As I went through the line, I thought I heard the name 'Neverov' whispered a few times. I was surprised to hear it, and I glanced around, straining to listen. But I couldn't catch any more of the conversation, and I went to join Branden, Charisse, and Simon at their table.
They were, of course, discussing the crash.
"I don't think anyone can say what happened at this point," Charisse said as I sat down. "There really isn't any evidence to go on."
Simon turned a sardonic grin on Branden. "I bet you think it was the Russian mob, don't you?"
"It's funny you should say that," Branden replied loftily. "Because it has just been confirmed that the sleek, late model sedan that crashed into the library belongs to none other than Ivan Neverov—father of Irina."
"Irina's dad?" Charisse said incredulously. "Are you sure?"
"Positive," Branden replied. "And so are the police."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Charisse asked.
"I did tell you. Just now."
"Why didn't you tell me before?" she said.
"I only just found out myself."
"So how does it have anything to do with the Russian mob?" Simon said.
Branden shrugged. "Ivan Neverov came here from Russia, and his car crashed into our school. That's evidence of criminal activity."
"Why would he do that?" Simon asked. "What good does driving a car into the school do anybody? Besides, I really doubt Ivan Neverov was driving the car—even if it is his."
"Which it is," Branden said.
"I bet the car was stolen," Simon said.
"By Ivan Neverov?"
"No, genius. Someone stole his car, and then drove it into the school."
"Maybe," Branden said.
"You'll see I'm right."
Branden and Simon continued to argue, and I had a feeling that Simon was probably right about the car being stolen—I really couldn't picture Irina's father intentionally driving his car into the school.
At the same time, I couldn't interest myself in their argument too much—suddenly I wasn't feeling very well. I was very tired, and I just wanted to get away from the lights and the sounds all around me.
I wondered if I was coming down with the flu.
After lunch, I went to the nurse's office, and Mrs. Sara greeted me with a gentle murmur, her large, dark eyes full of sympathy as they always were when she spoke to a student. She took my temperature, and a frown creased her brow as she read the thermometer.
"Do I have a fever?" I asked.
"No," Mrs. Sara said. "Quite the opposite. Your temperature is too low. Ninety-five degrees is not in the normal range. Do you feel cold?"
"No," I said. "Just tired."
Mrs. Sara took my hands in hers. "Your hands are cold. And your fingers are turning white."
She looked up into my face. "Your lips are white, too."
Mrs. Sara had me lie down on a cot in a quiet, dark room, and she piled several blankets on me.
"Let's see if we can't warm you up. We don't want you going into shock."
She then retired into the other room, leaving me to rest.
After a little
while, I heard the phone ring, and Mrs. Sara answered it in her gentle murmur. After a moment of silence, she spoke again.
"All right," she said quietly. "I'll be right there."
Mrs. Sara left, and I had the chance I'd been waiting for. I pushed my covers off and crept out of the office.
As I slipped through the hallways, careful to avoid being seen, I had to wonder what I was doing.
Why had I left the nurse's office? And what was I looking for?
But my feet led me on as if they knew where to go, and before long, I found myself opening a metal door marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Behind the door was a stairwell with concrete walls and metal railings. I went down the stairs.
As I reached the bottom, I heard the steady hum of machinery, and I went on to a door marked Boiler Room. I opened the door and fumbled on the wall until I found a light switch. I flipped it on, and a row of fluorescent lights, one of them flickering badly, sputtered to life, bathing a broad swath of the room in a wan, sickly light. I let the door close heavily behind me.
The room was full of pipes that crisscrossed overhead, and there were several large cylindrical containers with gauges, the function of which was a mystery to me. The hum of machinery was even louder than it had been before, and there were heavy shadows cloaking the far end of the room in darkness.
The room I was standing in was entirely unfamiliar to me, and yet I seemed to know exactly where I was going.
I approached the shadows at the back of the room.
Behind one of the big cylindrical tanks, I could see the end of a bare foot poking out. I went closer and saw a second foot next to the first. A figure shrouded in shadow behind the tank then stood and took a step forward.
Standing before me in the pale, flickering light was David Hutchins.
Seeing him seemed to wake me up—as if I had been in a trance—and I stumbled backward in a sudden panic. I heard my own startled cry echoing in the room.
David took another step toward me and held out a hand. I could see gray lips working in an even grayer face.
I was just about to run from the room when one word was forced out from between the gray lips.
"Please."
I forced myself to stay where I was, and as I watched, the gray lips continued to work.
"Please. Please don't go. I won't hurt you."
The voice was hoarse and weak, and the hand that was held out to me trembled. I took a step closer.
I looked up into the face before me, and I saw dark gray lines snaking and branching over the paler gray skin. There were deep lines of strain around the eyes, and the eyes themselves were full of suffering.
"David?" I said. "David, do you remember me?"
His face crumpled, and a low wail emerged from between his lips. Then he spoke.
"I remember you."
I took another step toward him. "Can I—do you—do you need help?"
David shook his head slowly, and he spoke in a hoarse whisper.
"No one can help me."
I waited as the gray lips began to work once again.
"I came here to help you," he said at last.
"David," I said. "I've heard—that is, we all know you died. There are rumors that you're a—"
I stopped. I couldn't make myself say the word.
"Please don't be afraid," he said. "Please. It's true. I am what you think I am. But I'm too weak to hurt you or anyone else. And I don't want to."
"What happened to you?" I asked.
A tremor ran through David's body. "That's what he wanted, you know. He wanted me to catch you. He's a coward. That's why he wouldn't do it himself."
"You're talking about the one who—did this to you?"
"Yes. He said his name was Sebastian. He said we could get ahead of any others."
"How did he do this you?" I asked.
"I don't know. I remember leaving my house one night, and then nothing until I woke up on the stone floor. Sebastian was sitting next to me. He said he was going to teach me something—he said it was a 'call.'"
David made a hoarse sound like a laugh. "He said I could use it on you."
"Is that what you did?" I asked. "Is that why I came here?"
"Yes," David said, his gray face crumpling once again. "I called you here. But I didn't do it for his reasons. I did it for mine. I'm not going to hurt anyone."
"What does this Sebastian want with me?" I asked.
"He said the others were afraid—of you," David replied. "He said he was afraid of you, too. But he said he was smart, even though he was scared. He said they were opening a tomb."
David's brow wrinkled in concentration. "Or he said the tomb was opening itself. He said the one in the tomb would come after you—that he would catch you. But we would get to you first and catch you ourselves. And then we would be the ones rewarded."
"Who was being released?" I asked.
"I don't know. He never said the name."
"Why does someone want to catch me?"
"He said they all believe you're the ghost girl. He said you've been making them disappear."
"I'm not the ghost girl."
"I know," David said. "I told him that. I said you're just a girl from my school—you wouldn't hurt anybody. He laughed. He said he knew that. He said you were harmless—anybody could trap you. But he still wouldn't catch you himself. He said you had a powerful friend, but that he wouldn't suspect me. That's why I had to do it."
"Were you the one who sent me the notes?" I asked. "The dead travel fast. Your powers won't save you?"
"I never sent any notes," David said. "I couldn't figure out how to get to you—to warn you. I decided to come to school to find you. But I knew it would be locked."
"You stole the car," I said. "You crashed it into the library."
David gave a faint nod. "They came looking for me, but I hid down here. I knew if I waited till later I could try to call you. But I hoped it wouldn't take too long."
He looked up at me. "I don't know how long I have left."
Another tremor ran through his body, and I looked again at the horrible gray lines in his face. I knew a vampire's body had marvelous restorative powers—but David's body didn't appear to be healing itself.
"Who put that stake in you, David?" I asked. "Was it someone we know?"
"No. It was Sebastian. He took me to the carnival. He ordered me to catch you. But I wouldn't do it. So he drove that stake through my chest. He laughed. He said he'd stolen it from someone who should have known better. Then he said everyone was in for a big surprise and pushed me into that fountain."
"How did you get out of the police station?" I asked. "And how did you get that car you crashed?"
"I couldn't move after Sebastian stabbed me," David said. "I felt cold run all through my body. And then everything went dark. When I woke up, I was in a house. I went upstairs and found car keys. Then I just took the car that was sitting in the driveway."
A violent tremor ran through David's body, and he doubled over.
"Come with me," I said quickly. "Sebastian was right about one thing—I do have a powerful friend. We can help you. Maybe we can even cure you—"
There was a sudden commotion on the stairs outside the boiler room, and the door flew open, slamming against the wall.
"There's a girl here," cried a voice. "And there's a male with her."
Several police officers crowded into the room.
David's figure suddenly turned into a dark blur and flew across the room, knocking the police officers to the ground. One of them got up and came over to me, and the other two ran after David.
I shouted after them to leave him alone, but then I realized it wasn't necessary.
I doubted very much that they would be able to catch him.
Chapter 5.
As it turned out, I had been gone a lot longer than I'd realized.
And when Mrs. Sara returned to her office and found I was missing, she had raised the alarm. The police officers that ha
d remained on campus then put the school on lockdown and began to search for me.
After they found me, I told the police that a runaway had come into the nurse's office, and that I had followed him and tried to convince him to seek help—it was the best story I could come up with at the moment—and one that seemed the least likely to incriminate David in any way. I also gave the police a description that was the opposite of what David looked like. I was still pretty sure they wouldn't catch him, but I wanted to give him all the help I could.
I told the nurse I was feeling better—and I was. Now that the effects of David's call had worn off, I was back to normal again. I was allowed to go back to class and finish out the rest of the day.
I waited impatiently for the day to end, and when the final bell rang, I rushed out to see William.
He met me in the schoolyard, and we began to walk as if we were going to head for my house. But I stopped at a nearby bench instead.
"I think we should both have a seat," I said. "I have a lot to tell you."
"Unfortunately, I don't have a lot to tell you," William said, sitting down. "I didn't find Bryony's grandmother or David last night. I searched the whole town—including that cave. I didn't find anything."
"Well, I found David," I said, perching on the bench. "Or to be more exact, he found me."
William looked at me sharply.
I told him about the car crashing into the school and about David's visit.
When I was done, William sat back against the bench. "Well, you have had quite a day."
He was silent for a moment. Then he shook his head. "I was near the school this morning. And I never sensed David's presence. I don't know what's wrong."
"At least we know who created him," I said. "And we know who staked him."
"David didn't tell you anything about where this Sebastian was hiding?"
"No—it wasn't always easy for him to talk. I think he did the best he could. I wonder, though—"
"Wonder what?"
"What David was doing at Ivan Neverov's house. That's where he must have been because he said he went upstairs and took the car that was sitting outside. And it was Ivan Neverov's car that he drove into the school. I wonder if Sebastian could be hiding out at the Neverov house."
Dangerous Creatures (Book 3, Pure Series) Page 5
