I wondered what she was doing right now, and I wondered if she was thinking about me.
I was startled a little while later to hear a knock at the door—I had gotten lost in my memories—and I got up and hurried to the living room. I peered out the window from behind the curtain, and I could see Anton standing on the doorstep.
There was another knock at the door, and I hurried to open it.
"I'm glad to see you're being cautious," Anton said. Next to him sat a metal grocery cart that was full of bags.
"You could see me?" I said.
Anton smiled. "I could see the curtain moving—you don't need to be a vampire to catch something like that."
"I would've done something more discreet," I said, "but we don't have a peephole on the door."
"Well, it really doesn't matter," Anton replied. "The Hunter certainly isn't going to knock. I just meant that it's good to see that you're being cautious in general. Could you open the door just a little wider?"
I did as Anton asked, and he tipped the grocery cart up and over the threshold.
"I think you should be set for a little while," he said. "If you need anything else, just give me a call. Otherwise, you won't be seeing me again."
Anton gave me a level stare. "Now, pay close attention to what I'm about to say. Do not go outside for any reason—and I do mean any reason. Don't even open the door. And stay away from the windows—no matter what you hear—or think you hear. Don't even look outside. This house will become your whole universe. It will keep you safe. When—and if—it's ever safe again for you to come out, I will call you. Got it?"
"Got it," I said.
He took a step back. "Be sure to lock the door behind me."
"Anton," I said, "how soon will he come?"
"Time's a-wasting. We won't have to wait long."
He paused. "Goodbye, Katie."
Anton turned then and disappeared. I shut the door and locked it.
I went to the kitchen then—glad to have some normal, practical things to do, and I found some measure of comfort in taking the groceries out of their bags and putting them away. After that, I took my suitcase up to my old bedroom and began to unpack.
Although Odette owned the house—and had owned it for several years—she had altered it very little since I had lived there, and my bedroom was much the same as it had been when I was five years old. The rocking horse rug my mother had made still sat on the floor, the picture of the little yellow bird that I had loved still hung on the wall, and the butterfly coverlet that had once blanketed my bed lay there still. Even the spot on the wall where I had scrawled my full name—Ekaterina—was still intact.
As I recalled, Odette's bedroom looked very much as it had when she was a child, too. I thought for a moment about going down the hall to check her room, but I knew I wouldn't find her there. Instead, I finished unpacking and then sat down on my bed and listened to the silence in the house. I felt another pang of loneliness.
At that moment, as odd as it was, I would have welcomed a visit from Odette. She was capricious, and as Anton had pointed out—dangerous—but she was still my cousin. Despite what she had done, I missed her.
I continued to sit for a time, lost in my thoughts. Eventually, I shook off my preoccupation and went downstairs. I figured I might as well make dinner.
As I got to work sautéing some chicken, I found myself thinking about William. I wondered where he was—and if he was all right. It began to dawn on me that something must have gone terribly wrong. It wasn't like William to simply vanish—and although that had actually happened once before, it hadn't been William's fault—that had been because of the Sìdh and a letter they had destroyed. Since then, William had promised never to be out of touch with me again, and I had made a vow never to doubt him.
I knew this absence wasn't of William's doing, and a deep sense of dread settled over me. It would take something severe to keep William away from me for this long—especially with the Hunter after me.
I went to my phone then and very nearly called Anton, but as soon as I picked it up, I stopped—I realized that calling Anton wouldn't do any good. I'd asked him about William quite a few times already, and he hadn't answered me. If Anton hadn't told me anything before, I probably wouldn't get anything out of him now.
It occurred to me then that William hadn't been in my thoughts very much lately. Part of that was due, no doubt, to how busy—and terrifying—the last two days had been. But I couldn't help but wonder if Anton hadn't used his powers of persuasion on me to make me forget about William. Now that I was out of his company, my thoughts felt clearer and freer. If that was true, it was yet another reason why Anton wouldn't tell me what I wanted to know.
I put my phone away and returned to the kitchen.
I ate a quiet dinner by myself, and then I went into the living room and settled down to read a book.
Eventually, I set the book aside, and as I listened to the silence in the house, I felt the weight of loneliness pressing in on me even more heavily than ever.
I glanced at the clock. It was a little after ten. I decided to call it a night and just go to bed.
I lay awake for a long time, listening to the quiet in the house and straining to hear if there was anything stirring outside. Anton had forbidden me to look out the windows, and I had to admit that his advice was probably sound. But all the same, I wanted to know what was going on outside—and if the Hunter was approaching the house.
But the silence stretched unbroken for quite some time, and I had to conclude that nothing was going on outside the walls of my house—nothing dangerous at least. All that was probably happening was that Anton and his vampires were standing guard in the most unobtrusive way possible—I could picture them, silent and pale, blending in with the shadows.
There was nothing for them to do but keep their lonely vigil.
I felt myself sinking into sleep, and as I did so, my last thoughts were of William. I ran my fingers over the cross he had given me, and I imagined that he was near.
I awoke some time later to find a bright light shining on my face, and I sat up, shielding my eyes. A blazing, golden light was streaming into my room, and I blinked, trying to find the source. After a moment, my eyes adjusted to the glare, and I could see that the light was streaming out of the mirror over my bureau.
And silhouetted against the light was a large, dark shape.
Someone was sitting on the edge of my bed.
I jumped out of bed quickly, and the dark shape rose along with me.
"Please," said a familiar voice, as I stumbled away, "don't be alarmed."
I squinted into the glare, and I could just make out the features of a man who had come to my aid once.
"Cormac?" I said.
"Yes," he replied. "You remember me?"
"It would be hard to forget you," I said, my momentary panic subsiding. "Is there any way you could turn down that glow? It's a little hard for me to see."
The shadowy figure before me made a slight motion with his hand, and the bright light that flooded the room dimmed to a more comfortable level.
Standing before me was Cormac, prince of the Sìdh, who had once saved me from Anton in the Old Grove back in Elspeth's Grove. Cormac was tall and handsome in an otherworldly way, with golden hair and blue eyes that were startling in their intensity.
He was a stunning sight to behold—so stunning that I couldn't be sure of what I was seeing.
"Are you real?" I asked. "Or am I dreaming?"
"I'm very real," Cormac replied in his oddly musical voice. "And I have come to help you."
"Help me?" I said.
Cormac cast a quick glance over his shoulder into the glow, and then he took a step toward me. "Katie, you don't have to be afraid of those—things—outside, those creatures."
"Do you mean Anton and the other vampires?" I asked.
"Yes," Cormac replied. "I recognize the one called Anton. He's the foul creature who attacked you once before."
"It's
different this time," I said. "Anton and the others are trying to help."
Cormac stared at me, incredulous. "Surely you know what is after you? You must know of the one called the Hunter—an ancient creature of darkness that even now makes its loathsome way toward you. The creatures that stand outside this house are vile enough. But the one that is coming is a thousand times worse. The Hunter is a vampire of the ancient days. His power is such that it once even threatened the Sìdh."
"I know about the Hunter," I said. "And that's why I'm here. That's why Anton and the others are here. They brought me here to protect me."
Cormac moved toward me swiftly. "But, Katie, don't you see? Those miserable creatures out there can do nothing against one as mighty as the Hunter. You are protected in this house by the grace of your dear, departed mother. But as good and noble as she was—as hard as she tried to make this house safe for you—she only managed to make it safe from what you would call supernatural foes."
I glanced involuntarily at the curtained window behind me. Then I looked back at Cormac. "What are you saying?"
"When the Hunter gets through the pathetic line of defense those creatures have put up—and he will get through—it will be a simple matter for him to get through to you."
"You believe my mother's charm won't work on the Hunter?"
"Your mother's charm will work on him," Cormac replied. "Her skill was strong. But it will not work on ordinary mortals. A vampire cannot enter the house, but the same is not true for ordinary human beings. All the Hunter has to do is gather up a gang of common thugs and have them batter down the door. Then all they have to do is drag you out."
I felt a chill run through me. "You really think the Hunter can get past Anton and the others?"
"I know he can." Cormac took my hand, and his fingers were warm and strong. "Why do you think I sent you those dreams? I've been trying to warn you all along. I sent you my dragonfly, and in the realms of sleep it led you to the tomb of the Hunter. You have seen images of the unholy things that have happened there."
"The Hunter's tomb?" I said.
"Yes, of course. That was his fell voice you heard whispering. You are in terrible danger—mortal danger. There is another horror lurking in that tomb."
Cormac glanced over his shoulder again, and then his bright eyes looked into mine imploringly. "Come with me, Katie. I asked you this once before, and you refused. I am here to give you another chance. Come with me now. Leave this earth, this realm of death. Come with me to a place where your beauty will shine forever."
"You want me to leave this world—and never return?" I said.
"Yes," Cormac replied. "Come with me. Stay with me forever. You will want for nothing. Why do you think I have done all of this? I sent you the dreams of the Hunter in his tomb. I sent you the vision of the Hunter in your house—"
"My house," I said. "That was real? Did he hurt my grandmother?"
Cormac continued as if he hadn't heard me. "I even sent you a pure white spirit in the guise of a horse. That spirit saved your life last year when you were pursued across the Wasteland. Don't you remember that? I have done all of this for you. I am even defying my father's laws by speaking to you at this moment. Haven't I proven myself to you?"
I backed away from him. "Cormac, I can't go with you."
"Is it William that stops you?" Cormac asked, taking my hand again. As on the last occasion on which I had met him, he pronounced William's name as if it caused him pain. "Don't hold out hope for him. William is lost to you now. He is worse than before. He cannot be saved."
"What happened to him?" I asked sharply. "Where is he?"
Cormac glanced over his shoulder once again and then looked at me beseechingly. "I don't have much time. You must decide now. I won't be able to come again."
"I've already decided," I said, "I can't go with you."
Cormac's eyes filled with anguish. "Then I fear you have sealed your fate. Find the Star of Morning—it's the only thing left to you."
"You mean the sword?" I said.
"I must leave you now," Cormac said. "You have chosen the path of misery over the path of beauty. Look to the lights in your mirror. You can see us there if you need us. It's my parting gift to you."
Cormac vanished suddenly, and my hand was left holding empty air. The glow that had suffused the room vanished, too, and I was plunged suddenly into darkness.
There was one bright, golden spot of light, little more than a pinprick, that still shone out of my mirror, and I turned quickly toward it. I watched the tiny point of light, willing it to stay, and I felt a sudden, wild desire for the golden glow to return in all its splendor. I wanted to follow the light, to see where it led—to see the shining land that lay on the other side of it.
But as I watched the light in the mirror, it suddenly went out.
The darkness around me became absolute.
Chapter 20.
After Cormac disappeared, I stood for a long time in the darkness, looking toward the mirror. I knew I'd made the right decision by staying, but the whole experience had left me shaken.
Eventually, I began to feel cold, and I went back to bed and pulled my covers around me tightly.
After a little while, I fell asleep.
Sometime later, I started awake, and I sat up quickly. My room was still dark, and this time there was no mysterious man sitting on the edge of the bed.
I looked around the room, trying to figure out what had jarred me from my sleep, and then I heard a low, muffled cry from somewhere not far away. The cry faded away, and for a moment there was silence. Then I heard the cry again.
Someone outside was screaming.
I got out of bed and hurried to the window. I was just about to pull back the curtains and look outside when I remembered Anton's warning—I wasn't supposed to look outside for any reason.
But I hesitated by the window, and soon I heard another sound—a series of short, sharp taps on the glass, all in a cluster, as if someone had thrown a handful of stones at the window.
A moment later, there was a very clear scream from outside—which was quickly followed by another. Soon other screams joined in.
I had a terrible feeling that the Hunter had arrived.
Stones rained on the window once more, and I hesitated in an agony of indecision. Anton had told me that he would communicate with me only by phone. But if the Hunter were outside, maybe that wasn't possible—maybe Anton needed to contact me another way. And surely, if the Hunter were trying to trick me, he would do something more sophisticated—throwing stones at a window seemed like an unlikely trick for a legendary vampire to use.
Suddenly, a shrill siren sounded in the house, and I hurried to my bedroom door and opened it. I stood for a moment in the dark hallway, trying to figure out where the piercing sound was coming from—and then I realized that what I was hearing was a fire alarm.
I rushed back into my room and threw open the window.
My bedroom window looked out over the back of the house, so I didn't have much light to see by. But I could hear more screams on the night air, and after a moment, a small shadow detached itself from the greater darkness and turned a pale face up to me. Even in the dim light, I recognized the small, slim figure. It wasn't Anton who had been throwing stones at my window—it was the ghost girl.
"What are you doing here?" I hissed as loudly as I dared.
"I've come to get you out of there," the girl called up to me. "Your only chance is to jump. You jump, and I'll catch you."
"Jump from the window?" I said. "Are you crazy?"
"The Hunter will get through the last of the vampire defenders soon," the girl said. "And he's got some thugs with him who've set the house on fire. You'll be forced to come out very soon. Then the Hunter will have you."
"The last of the vampire defenders?" I said. "What about—"
"Just stop talking!" the girl shouted. "Get out here now!"
I ducked back into the room and quickly pulled on some street c
lothes—I couldn't really go running out into the night the way I was.
The girl's voice rose shrilly over the sound of the fire alarm.
"What are you doing?"
A moment later, I pushed the window open as far as I could and climbed out onto the ledge.
I perched on the narrow strip of wood uncertainly and stared down at the ghost girl. "Are you sure about this?"
There was another scream from somewhere in the darkness, and the ghost girl glanced toward it.
"Just jump!" she called frantically.
I pushed myself off the window ledge.
The figure of the ghost girl blurred and rushed toward me. She leaped into the air and caught me before I had even fallen halfway, and the two of us landed softly on the ground. Then, before I could catch my breath, the ghost girl was flying off into the night at terrifying speed. I wrapped my arms around her neck and hung on.
"What's going on back at the house?" I cried, as the wind whipped past my face.
"There's nothing you can do to help them," the girl said. "You're no match for the Hunter, and neither am I."
Though the landscape was a blur around me, I could just make out that we were moving into the center of Krov.
"Besides," the girl called back to me, "you want to see him again, don't you?"
I caught my breath. "Do you mean William?"
"Of course I mean William."
"Where is he?" I asked frantically. "Is he okay?"
"I'll take you to him. But first we have to get clear of the Hunter. I'm going to leave a trail that will confuse him."
I could just see by moonlight that we had passed through the center of Krov, and we were now streaking along a vast expanse of blighted, barren land.
The ruined, gray landscape we now traversed was known locally as the Wasteland, and it was bounded on one side by the Mstislav mansion and on the other side by an old abandoned monastery. Once, long ago, the Wasteland had been the site of a thriving village. But as I had learned last year, the great Mstislav family and the monastery had failed centuries ago in their duty to protect the people of the village, and the people had all perished.
Dangerous Creatures (Book 3, Pure Series) Page 24
