Dangerous Creatures (Book 3, Pure Series)

by Catherine Mesick

  Anton turned toward the door, and then stopped abruptly and turned back.

  "You know what?" he said. "You'd better promise me you won't call her, either. You were probably too tired last night to think of it."

  "You want me to just promise you?" I asked.

  "Yes."

  "You think that will be enough?" I said. "You're not going to take my phone away from me or anything?"

  "No, of course not," Anton said. "I know if you promise me something, you'll do it. So promise me you won't call your grandmother."

  "Anton—"

  "It's for her own good. If she doesn't know where you are, Emmanuel won't harm her."

  "All right," I said. "I promise."

  "Thank you," Anton said. He left the room.

  I went to my backpack then and got out my cell phone. I stared for a long moment at GM's number, and then I put the phone away.

  Anton was right—I wouldn't go back on my word once I had given it. And I couldn't put GM in jeopardy—especially not if my silence would keep her safe.

  Besides, Anton trusted me—and I wondered how long it had been since he had trusted anyone.

  I showered quickly, and it felt good to rinse all of the dust from the cave off me. I saw that I had quite a few cuts and bruises, but I didn't really have time to tend to any of those. As I looked at my face in the mirror after my shower, I examined the cuts on my chin and forehead and decided they didn't look too bad.

  On the whole, I was looking much more presentable than I had the night before.

  I went downstairs and met Anton in the lobby, and he handed me a brown paper bag.

  "What's this?" I asked.

  "Orange juice, a muffin, and some kind of egg sandwich," Anton replied. "Basically, it's breakfast. I hope there isn't anything you're allergic to in there."

  "Oh, thanks," I said.

  "Unfortunately, you're going to have to eat in the car." Anton picked up my suitcase and moved toward the door. "I've allowed time, but we really should be moving. The sooner we're up in the air, the sooner you're safe from Emmanuel. Not even he can break into a plane in mid-air."

  I followed Anton out to the car, and soon we were speeding through the streets. In a short time, we would be out of Elspeth's Grove, and I would be leaving GM and my home behind.

  And I had no idea when I would be seeing them again.

  "Is there any chance we need to stop at a gas station?" I asked hopefully. I didn't have anything in mind—I just wanted to delay the inevitable.

  Anton glanced over at me as he drove. "Sorry. I took care of that before I picked you up. We're good to go all the way to the airport—we don't want to take any chances on the open road. Vampire are stealth hunters, after all. The more people that are around—like on a busy highway, or at an airport—the safer you are."

  "Good thinking," I said.

  As we left the town limits, I couldn't help turning around in my seat and watching the town as we sped away from it.

  I sat, staring out the back window, until my town and my home disappeared completely.

  Chapter 16.

  "So what's our plan exactly?" I asked.

  I asked the question quickly. I felt tears stinging my eyes, and I wanted to take my mind off what I was leaving behind.

  Anton glanced at me as I tried to blot at my eyes nonchalantly.

  "We're going to the airport," he said, "and we're going to take a normal commercial flight. We have a stopover in London—which lasts about fourteen hours—and then we'll go on to Moscow. It's a little more leisurely than I would like, but it's a pretty normal way for humans to travel. So I think it's the safest way."

  "This will keep Emmanuel away from us?"

  "It should," Anton said. "It's a course of action I wouldn't normally take. Any time we alter the pattern, we make it more difficult for Emmanuel to find us."

  "You said he appeared to be confused last night," I said.

  "Yes, that's what Peter told me."

  "And then he appeared to hone in on us."

  "Yes."

  "So, what confused him?" I asked. "What made the difference?"

  Anton smiled. "It's funny you should ask that. I've been thinking about it myself."

  "And?"

  "And I have a theory," Anton said. "It wasn't anything I expected, but so far it explains things pretty well. That doesn't mean it will always work—in fact, I have a terrible feeling that Emmanuel's going to adjust eventually. But for right now, we have to go with what works."

  "What's the theory?" I asked.

  "The difference is you."

  "How can I be making a difference?" I asked.

  Anton smiled again. "I'm not entirely sure I should admit this, but every time I go against my instincts, things work out—so here goes. When I said the difference is you, what I really meant is this: the difference is the effect you have on me."

  "The effect I have on you?" I said.

  "Since I saw you again, at your grandmother's house," Anton said, "I haven't quite been myself. I've been doing things I wouldn't ordinarily do. Like looking for your grandmother. Or thinking about whether you were hurt or frightened or needed to rest. In other words, I've been thinking about someone other than myself."

  "And that's what threw Emmanuel off?" I asked.

  "That's what threw him off," Anton replied. "Most of the things I did last night were completely out of character for me." He glanced at me. "Don't get a swelled head over it or anything."

  "So what caused the change last night when he could suddenly find us again?" I asked. "Do you think he adjusted like you just mentioned?"

  "Well," Anton said, "it occurred to me that Emmanuel zeroed in on us again after I caught the ghost girl. Hassling her was exactly like me. So, I suppose I should have just let her go on following us, and then Emmanuel would have stayed away. As far as his adjusting goes, I don't think that's possible yet. What I'm doing is so new that even I don't know what I'm going to do next—so there's no way he can know. And he can't follow your patterns since you don't know what I'm going to do next, either."

  "That's true enough," I said.

  "Take this trip to the airport, for example," Anton said. "Yesterday, I originally planned to go to your house, get you, and then take you straight to a private airfield where you would board a plane and fly to Russia. Once we arrived, I was going to stash you in the airplane's bathroom and hope no one insisted on searching the plane. Then I would sneak you out in a trunk or something, and you could get out once we got past customs. Of course, if anything had gone wrong at any point, I was just going to schmooze the local officials with my incredible charm."

  "You were going to hide me in the bathroom?" I said.

  "Yes."

  "And then in a trunk?" I said.

  "Yes. See how upset you are about all this?" Anton said. "That was exactly my usual pattern. And that's what drew Emmanuel to the private plane I'd chartered last night. Incidentally, that's what the first phone call was about last night. Peter called me to let me know that Emmanuel had gotten to the plane ahead of us. And he'd sabotaged it—wrecked the engine or something so it couldn't take off. He'd seen what the plan was ahead of time and would have been waiting there for us."

  "But we were delayed because we went to rescue my grandmother," I said.

  "Exactly. So we ended up not running into him. Ordinarily, I would have just chartered another plane at another airfield, but then I started thinking about you. And I decided that a regular commercial flight would be more comfortable for you. And I even picked one with a stopover so you wouldn't have to sit on the plane all that time—the flight would be broken up. And mind you, that wasn't an easy decision to make considering the time constraints we're under. The calendar is not our friend."

  I glanced at Anton sharply. "What do you mean by that? You said the stopover would help us avoid Emmanuel. What kind of time constraints are we under?"

  Anton shifted a little in his seat. "I just meant that we need to
get you to your old house in Krov as soon as possible. The protective charm on that house is the best safeguard we have for you."

  "Are you sure that's what you meant?" I said. "Because it sounded like you were thinking of something specific."

  "Of course," Anton replied. "What else could it mean?"

  "A question for a question," I said.

  "Okay," Anton said. "Since we're on the topic of questions, then let me ask you one—have I steered you the wrong way yet?"

  "You're saying I just have to trust you?"

  He smiled. "Scary, isn't it?"

  "So where is Emmanuel right now?" I asked.

  "Unfortunately, I don't know," Anton said. "I do know one place he isn't, and that's at the bottom of the elevator shaft where Peter and I left him. Peter was watching the site, but somehow Emmanuel got past him. That does seem to be one of his talents—eluding people. I guess it's because he tends to know which way you'll be looking before you do."

  "He won't meet us at the airport, will he?" I asked.

  "No. Like I said, he'll avoid crowded places like airports. Vampires are creatures of loneliness and the night for a reason—we're stronger that way. A group of you in the daylight, when we're weaker, could easily overwhelm and destroy one of us. And it's hard to turn on the old persuasive charm when you're being attacked by a mob."

  "What about Sebastian?" I asked.

  Anton made a dismissive sound. "He lit out of town last night. We won't be seeing him again."

  "And the Hunter?" I said.

  "The Hunter I don't know about," Anton replied. "That's why we have to get you to safety as soon as possible—the stopover notwithstanding. The Hunter's more powerful than any vampire I've ever been unlucky enough to tangle with, and unfortunately, I don't know much about the way he hunts, or even what he looks like. Although I do have a terrible feeling that I'll recognize him when I meet him."

  "When you meet him," I said. "You're planning on doing that?"

  "I have to. You'll be safe in your house, but that won't stop the Hunter from trying to attack it. And the charm on the house won't differentiate between a vampire like him, who's trying to harm you, and a vampire like me, who's trying to help you. We'll all be trapped outside together, and as our unlucky stars would have it, the Hunter will be the most powerful among us. For all I know, his power might even be enough to break through the charm eventually. The older the vampire, the more powerful he is—and the Hunter is very old indeed. He will attack, and we will have to attempt to destroy him. We can't let him get to you."

  "How are you planning on fighting him?" I asked.

  "Well, there are a number of theories," Anton said. "The stories say that in ancient days the Sìdh defeated the Werdulac and his army by calling down the stars on them."

  "The stars?" I said, surprised.

  Anton looked over at me. "Do you know something about that?"

  "Not exactly," I said. "It's just that I've been having a recurring dream of being surrounded by stars—and there seems to be water nearby. And there's a stone slab, too, and some white cloth."

  "A stone slab?" Anton said.

  "Yes," I said. "A dream probably doesn't sound very helpful, but I think the Sìdh may be trying to send me a message. They've done that before. And I've been seeing lights flickering in mirrors—lights that can't always be explained away."

  I reached for the mirror that was always in the pocket of my jeans now. "Here. Maybe I can show you."

  Anton put up a hand. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'll take your word for it. I have no desire to look into a mirror."

  "So it's true, then?" I said. "Vampires don't like mirrors?"

  "Vampires don't like mirrors," Anton said.

  "Is it because you're invisible in them?" I asked, although I already knew the answer.

  "No, of course not," Anton said. "Anything with substance can be seen in a mirror. All that stuff about our lack of souls making us invisible is ridiculous. A wall or table doesn't have a soul, either, but you can certainly see both of those in a mirror. But this is beside the point. I was talking of stars."

  "You were talking of stars," I said.

  "So, the Sìdh supposedly defeated the Werdulac and his followers with stars. Some think the Sìdh somehow managed to call down meteors on the Werdulac—which I think is unlikely given the lack of craters at the locations where the battles are supposed to have taken place."

  "That's a good point," I said. "And it's also possible that a meteor would be hard to control. You might hit your own people in addition to the enemy's."

  "Very true," Anton said. "So I think we're safe in ruling meteors out. The other major theory is that the Sìdh used the famous vampire swords, so-called because they reportedly drink the blood of their enemies and grow stronger."

  "Vampire swords?" I said. "Like Ignis Sacer? Like the sword William's been looking for?"

  "Yes," Anton said. "Except these swords aren't imaginary. William, as I told you, is delusional—he believes in a fraudulent prophecy made by an old charlatan. However, there is a real group of vampire swords, many of which are named after stars. The most famous of them is kept in the Vaults at Rusalka—it's known as the Star of Morning."

  "That's good, then, isn't it?" I said. "If you actually do have a vampire sword? I'm assuming that a vampire sword can be used on a vampire."

  "According to legend," Anton said, "vampire swords are of Sìdh origin, and they have special powers that make them extra effective against vampires. Sort of like a good, old-fashioned stake to the heart in a folktale. One blow from one of these blades is supposed to be enough to kill a vampire—if used the right way. But I've seen the swords used in combat situations before, and they're no more effective against vampires than an ordinary sword. I think their only real value lies in their historical significance—they are very, very old."

  "So you don't believe a vampire sword will work on the Hunter, either," I said.

  "No, I don't. He's such an ancient vampire that I'm not even sure a sword would mark his skin. I am sure it wouldn't kill him."

  "Is there a third option?" I asked. "If it's not meteors or vampire swords, is there something else?"

  "No," Anton said.

  "Then what are we going to do?" I asked.

  "You'll hide in the house," Anton said. "And the Hunter will do his best to attack it. And then we'll do our best to stop him. But I'm fairly certain he can kill all of us—all of us vampires, that is. I think we're doomed. But then again, we always were."

  "You can't believe that," I said.

  "I do believe it."

  "I don't want any of you to die for me."

  Anton gave me a serious look. "None of this is your fault. You didn't ask to be the Little Sun. And you certainly didn't ask to be hunted because of it. And you can't help what we are. If the creatures of darkness can't get along, you aren't to blame. Look on the bright side—maybe we'll end up killing each other—all of us Russian vampires and the Hunter. Maybe we'll be enough for him together. Maybe it's a good way for us all to go out."

  "Anton—"

  "We deserve it, Katie. We really do."

  I turned to look out the window.

  "I'm glad we're going to London," I said, after some time had passed.

  "A nice change of subject," Anton replied. "I must be rubbing off on you."

  "No, I really mean it," I said. "My parents died when I was young, and I never really knew them that well. My grandmother told me my father was born in London. I've never been there."

  "Really?" Anton said. "That's very intriguing. Who knew I'd made such a good guess when I chose that stopover? Do you know where in London exactly?"

  "No. I don't suppose I could give my grandmother a call and ask her?"

  Anton had to smile. "Not a chance. I got you something, by the way."

  I looked at him in surprise. "You what?"

  "I got you something," Anton said again. "It's in the glove compartment."

  I opened the sma
ll door and pulled out a white plastic bag. "Is this it?"

  "Yep."

  With one last questioning glance at Anton, I reached into the bag and pulled out a book. It was a travel guide to London.

  "I know we won't have much time there," Anton said. "And I know you can just look stuff up online, but somehow it's nicer to have a book."

  "Yes, it is nicer to have a book," I said. "Wow. Thanks, Anton."

  He glanced over at me. "Don't sound so shocked."

  "I'm not shocked exactly," I said. "It's just that I didn't expect this. It's so—"

  "So what?"

  "So thoughtful," I said.

  Anton grinned. "I suppose I should be offended, but I actually know what you mean. It's really not like me. Let's hope it's just one more thing that will throw Emmanuel off our trail."

  We continued to drive, and as I watched the featureless highway flying by, I began to feel drowsy. I'd slept pretty well at the hotel, especially considering everything I'd been through, but I was still tired and sore, and I welcomed the prospect of more sleep.

  I let my head fall back against the headrest, and I watched the gray road until I drifted off.

  A familiar darkness came to me then, and my guide, the dragonfly, reappeared. But just as I began to follow it, the scene suddenly shifted, and I felt myself being wrenched violently away. My vision blurred for just a moment, and then I found myself staring through a silver haze into a sunny room that was somehow familiar.

  I realized with a thrill of shock that I was staring into my own bedroom. I was staring across a broad, flat surface toward my bed—it was a view that was only possible if I were sitting on my dresser.

  I realized I was looking out through my own mirror.

  As I looked into my room, I could see a large shadow moving all the way at the edge of my vision. The shape looked to be a man, and he was lifting a piece of cloth. As I stared at him, trying to make out his shape more clearly, the man turned toward me suddenly. I had a brief glimpse of a face—and then everything went black.