Dreams (Sarah Midnight Trilogy 1)

by Daniela Sacerdoti

  “Are you coming tonight?”

  “Coming … where?”

  “To my house. I’m having Leigh and Alice up; we’ll get chips and watch a film or something … I know it’s kind of … well, it’s so soon after … but a bit of company will do you good. My dad can come and collect you. You know, with those girls disappearing …”

  Nobody else is going to disappear now. At least, not at that creature’s hands.

  “Bryony, sorry, I just can’t. You have no idea how much I’ve got to sort out …”

  No, you really have no idea.

  “Of course, sorry.” Bryony’s face fell. “What’s going to happen now? I saw Siobhan a couple of days ago. She said you’d be moving in with them …”

  “No. That’s not going to happen.” Sarah’s eyes were blazing.

  “You can always come and stay with us. You know the way my mum is, she’d have you any day, just fit an extra bed somewhere …”

  Sarah smiled, in spite of her sadness. Bryony was the eldest of five children, and they always seemed to have a crowd staying at their large, messy, cheery house. Sarah was sure that Bryony meant it – that had she asked, her mum and dad would have taken her in. But that was impossible.

  “Thank you, but I’m sorted, for now. My cousin arrived yesterday. From London.” The thought of Harry made her tense up. The man with the dagger, the one I saw in my dream, looked just like him. He was standing at the end of my bed when I woke up. He went through my stuff in the middle of the night.

  The girls walked down the corridor to their Maths class, and sat together. Mr Combs, a young man with an incredibly boring, monotone voice, was standing at the desk already, waiting for the bell.

  “I didn’t even know you had anyone on the Midnight side of the family,” whispered Bryony.

  “I only saw him once.”

  “How long is he staying for?”

  “I don’t know. Hopefully long enough so that I don’t have to move.”

  Mr Combs called for attention, and the double Maths period started crawling slowly to the eleven o’clock mark.

  Juliet lay slumped across the living-room floor, her face white as marble, her eyes closed, her hair spread on the carpet. Shadow was sitting upright beside her, her tail tapping menacingly, keeping guard in case he came back.

  What is a small cat to do, when a six-foot-tall man decides he wants her out of the picture? Shadow knew she didn’t stand a chance, but she was brave, and fearless. She didn’t run away. She kept watch.

  If he came back, Shadow wasn’t going to give in without a fight.

  Sean was calmly sipping a cup of coffee, sitting at the computer in the basement. James Midnight’s inbox was on the screen, and Sean was scrolling down through his emails, looking for … There. There it was. The solicitor’s note.

  I am sorry to inform you that your nephew, Harry Midnight, has disappeared. He has been reported missing by his housekeeper, Mrs Elizabeth Boyle. Please contact me if …

  Delete.

  Delete, delete, delete.

  His body was overflowing with anger, white-hot anger, and his heart was pounding.

  Harry is dead. Harry is never coming back.

  Then he took a hold of himself. He focused on his breathing, in and out, in and out … Slowly …

  After a few minutes he felt calm again. He switched the computer off and stood up.

  Harry Midnight, I’ll keep my promise to you. If it’s the last thing I do, I won’t let you down.

  Sarah was sitting in the canteen. In front of her, on a tray, was a ham sandwich. She was looking at it with disgust. Plastic bread, plastic ham, probably made two weeks before. She had no intention of eating it.

  “Come on, Miss Fussy, it’s just a sandwich!” laughed Bryony.

  “No way,” said Sarah, and started peeling an orange.

  “Why no lunch with you anyway?” asked Alice, snatching the sandwich from her tray.

  “No time this morning …”

  “What? Super-organized Sarah, no time to—Ouch!” Bryony had kicked Alice under the table.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean … I didn’t think … Things must be up in the air for you right now …” Alice scrambled.

  “It’s OK, Alice, really. I know what you mean.” No time to do anything, that morning. Too busy fending off Harry and Aunt Juliet …

  All of a sudden something clicked in her mind. Harry had wanted her to go to school. He’d insisted she get out of the house.

  Harry had wanted her out.

  So that he could be there alone.

  How could she have been so stupid?

  Sarah sprang to her feet and started gathering her stuff quickly.

  “Bryony, please tell Mr McIntyre I’ve gone home. Tell him I’ll be OK, my aunt is there. I’ll text you later …

  “Sarah, are you OK?”

  “I’m OK, don’t worry,” she said breathlessly, and she was out of the lunch hall and down the steps already, running like her life depended on it, up towards the main street and down Cross Street, then up the hill to Gateside Road. Her side was pulsing in agony, and she thought her lungs would explode, but she kept running, among the flaming colours of the Scottish autumn, through the iron gate and up the gravelly path.

  4

  Illusion

  If life wants to devour my soul

  I’ll fight to the last breath

  “Aunt Juliet!” Sarah called, bursting into the hall.“Aunt Juliet!”

  She checked the downstairs rooms, feeling her panic rising, until Juliet appeared at the top of the stairs, her hair in a mess, looking vague, as if she’d just woken up.

  “Sarah, what are you doing here? Why are you not in school?”

  “Aunt Juliet … you’re fine …”

  “Of course I am. What are you doing home already?”

  “I … I skipped gym. I wasn’t feeling well.”

  Shadow had jumped down from the sofa and was brushing herself against Sarah’s legs. She looked electric.

  “Did you run all the way? You’re so out of breath! You should have called, I would have come to get you …”

  “It’s OK. I’m OK. Just need a drink.” Sarah picked Shadow up and looked into her eyes. They were enormous. She was trying to tell her something.

  “Go and sit down, I’ll get you a drink and some lunch, maybe? What about a ham sandwich?”

  Just the thing.

  “No thanks. Water will do. Where’s Harry?”

  “Well, we had a nice chat this morning, about your mum and dad. He asked me so many questions … He made me a cup of tea, then …” Juliet looked confused for a second. “Then he went downstairs, I think. Yes, he went downstairs. He’s still in the basement.”

  The basement? How did he get in? The door is always locked! She felt frantically under her jumper and around her neck. Her key was still there, hanging on a silver chain. So where did he find another key?

  “And what did you do? After your chat, I mean?” she asked Juliet, trying to sound casual.

  “I … I …” That look of confusion again.“I sat here, watching TV, I think …” She shook her head. “Funny that, I can’t remember! I must have fallen asleep …”

  Sarah felt a knot in her stomach. “Well, never mind, Aunt Juliet, don’t worry. I’ll cook you lunch. I’ll just go and say hello to Harry.”

  Say hello, indeed.

  “Hi Sarah. You’re back already. No gym?” Harry seemed to materialize between them, silently. They hadn’t heard him coming.

  Sarah felt her heart pounding in her chest.

  “No gym,” she replied in a clipped tone.

  “Exercise is good for you, Sarah. It makes you strong, and resilient.” His tone was mocking. For the second time that day, Sarah felt like slapping him.

  “She got her exercise anyway, she ran all the way here!” laughed Juliet.

  “Ran? Why? Was something on fire?” Harry’s eyes were wide with innocence.

  “I just wanted home,
that’s all.”

  “Well, I need to get home for a bit,” Juliet intervened, putting her hand on Sarah’s arm. “Trevor must be drowning, with the girls and the house. I’ll be back tonight.”

  “You don’t need to, Aunt Juliet,” said Sarah quickly.

  “Better if I do.”

  “We’re OK, Juliet. I’ve got it in hand,” said Harry.

  Juliet looked uncertain for a second. Sarah looked at Harry. His handsome face, his clear blue eyes. The picture of reliability.

  “OK then. OK. As you’re here …”

  Sarah saw her aunt to the door, and gave her a big, tight hug. Juliet was surprised, but pleased.

  “Take care, baby, see you tomorrow.” She looked into Sarah’s face. She was struck by how young, how vulnerable she looked. A child of seventeen. A young woman of seventeen. Alone in the world, but for her and Trevor.

  And Harry.

  The moment passed, and Sarah looked away.

  “What did you do to her?” Sarah growled as soon as Juliet was out of the door.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You know very well what I mean. She was confused. She couldn’t remember what happened this morning. I thought you’d sent me to school because you wanted to be here alone, but you wanted to be alone with her. You asked her questions about my mum and dad. What did you do to her?” she repeated, in a staccato voice, her green eyes blazing. Shadow was beside her, her tail moving rhythmically, menacingly.

  She looks just like Harry.

  “I just needed to speak to her. I convinced her to stay for a while longer, and we had a cup of tea.”

  “And then?”

  “Then I sent her to sleep.”

  What? “How?”

  “Like I did to you last night. Like this.” He turned quickly and placed his hand on Shadow’s head. Shadow didn’t even have time to protest, or jump away, before she fell in a little heap at their feet.

  “Shadow!” Sarah threw herself beside the cat, horrified. She put a hand on Shadow’s soft, furry back … she was still breathing. She seemed fine. She was just asleep.

  “See? It’s nothing bad. Something I picked up in Japan. I can send people – well, any living creature – to sleep, a deep sleep. They don’t wake up until I say. That’s all, no damage done.”

  “Wake her up now!” Sarah was shaking. If Harry had hurt Shadow … She felt her hands warming up, the blackwater starting to flow …

  Harry leaned down and touched Shadow between her ears, gently. The cat opened her eyes and got up slowly, drunkenly, looking at Sarah as if to ask what just happened to me? Sarah scooped her up and hid her face in the cat’s soft fur, breathing her in with relief.

  “Come with me.” Harry strode out of the living room, into the kitchen, and down the spiral staircase that led to the basement. The door was locked. He took a little key from his pocket, and unlocked it.

  Sarah was speechless.

  “Where did you find that key?”

  “A tool of the trade. Everybody should have one.” He smiled.

  “You’re basically a burglar,” she said dryly.

  His smile widened into a mischievous grin. “If it’s needed.”

  The basement was in semi-darkness. It was chilly, and a musty smell saturated the air. Harry switched the lamps on, their warm golden light cutting the shadows and pervading the room. Sarah walked over to switch on the electric heaters, and she was enveloped by a cloud of sudden heat. With the light, and the heat, and the golden glow reflected on the wall, Sarah had the overwhelming feeling that her parents were there …

  She turned towards James’s desk, and had to blink, once, twice.

  Dad?

  But it wasn’t him. It was just Harry. She felt breathless. That breathlessness, that sense of not being able to inhale, of being about to suffocate, was happening more and more.

  “Come and look.” The computer screen came to life. Harry took out a memory stick from his pocket.“This is what I was looking for last night.”

  “What is it?”

  “You’ll see … There. This is what your mum and dad had been facing in the last few months.”

  A series of pictures flashed on the screen. People. Normal people. Men, women, young and old. Snapped in the car, hanging up the washing, in the supermarket, at a restaurant.

  “I don’t understand. These are just … people. It was demons that killed my mum and dad. We hunt demons, not people!”

  “Look closer.” Harry clicked on the photo of a blond woman, snapped as she was calling a taxi. She was turning away, so her profile was barely visible. He zoomed in, and again, and again, until the screen was filled with the detail of her neck. There was a tiny black mark just behind her ear. Harry zoomed in once more.

  “See that?”

  Sarah squinted a little. “It looks like a tattoo. Like a … a circle. A ring.”

  “Exactly. That ring is the symbol of the Valaya. They’re people, yes, but they’re worse than the demons we hunt.”

  Sarah felt her knees give way. She sat down beside Harry.

  “These are the people who …”

  “Killed your parents. And many others. Yes.”

  “Va … Valaya?”

  “Yes.”

  Sarah shook her head. “Why should I believe you? I don’t even know you. Why should I listen to you?”

  “Sarah, you don’t have a choice.”

  “Oh yes I do!” she shouted. “I could throw you out. Move in with my aunt and uncle, forget about all this …”

  “That is not possible.”

  “I don’t trust you. I want you out of here now!”

  “Sarah, be quiet.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me what to do! You come here with a bunch of stories that make no sense—”

  “Sarah.”

  “Pack your bags now!”

  Before she knew it, Harry had clasped a hand over her mouth, and was holding her tight. She couldn’t move or speak; she could hardly breathe.

  How could she have been so stupid, she asked herself for the second time that day. She closed her eyes and felt her hands beginning to warm up. Soon she’d be able to strike. Her heart was racing and she felt dizzy, but she was strong enough to do it, to use the blackwater. Harry would see, if he thought she was a helpless little girl, he could think again.

  “Listen to me,” Harry whispered urgently. “They’re here. They’re here now. They’ve come for you. I’ll let go of you. But not a sound. If we don’t get rid of them, we’ll be dead in about … let’s see … three minutes. OK?”

  What?

  “OK?”

  She nodded frantically.

  Harry let go of her slowly, turning her face towards him, so he could look her in the eye. Her green eyes met his blue ones. She saw that Harry’s expression was steely, tense, ready for the fight.

  He’s not lying.

  “Where?” she mouthed.

  “Listen.”

  Scratching. She could hear scratching behind the steel door, and growling, a deep, throaty growling that chilled her blood.

  “Is there another way out?” he whispered.

  She shook her head.

  They looked at each other, and in wordless agreement, they knew what to do. They got up slowly, making no noise. Sarah pointed at the big wooden wardrobe in the corner, a piece of furniture that was six feet high and nearly as wide. Sarah unhooked the silver chain around her neck, and took another key off it, a smaller one. She opened the wardrobe, as quietly as she could. Inside it there was a collection of weapons: James’s arsenal.

  Sarah hated that wardrobe, and she hated the weapons in it. She shrugged her shoulders and gestured at them, as if to say your choice.

  On both sides of the doors there were some hooks, and two little sgian-dubh in leather pouches were hanging from them. Sgian-dubh, the Scottish name for a ceremonial knife – although for the Midnight men, they were a lot more than just ceremonial. Sarah had often seen her parents put
ting them back carefully after a hunt. Harry took them off their hooks, handed her one, and kept one for himself.

  “Our best bet,” he whispered. “Go open the door, and hide behind it.”

  Sarah nodded. Yes, I’ll open the door. No, I won’t hide behind it.

  “Can you use your hands?” she whispered.

  “I don’t have the blackwater,” he replied quietly. The real Harry didn’t either, so he didn’t have to make up a story. James had inherited it, but Stewart hadn’t, and neither had Harry.

  Sarah tip-toed to the door. There was no more scratching, no more growling. Everything seemed quiet. She began to turn the handle, slowly, slowly. The growling started again.

  Sarah took a deep breath. Her hands were burning up. She was ready. In one fluid movement, she opened the door and jumped back, just as a black, smooth, liquid creature pounced into the room, aiming straight for her. For a split second, they were face to face. The creature had human features, with watery blue eyes, pale skin and broken veins all over its nose. A middle-aged man’s face.

  Then it opened its mouth. It was full of teeth as sharp as a dog’s.

  Sarah screamed in horror and let go of her dagger, putting out her hands to use the blackwater. In an endless instant, she realized she had made a bad decision. A very, very bad decision. She should have stepped aside, like Harry had said. She wasn’t ready; it was going to bite her face off …

  It’s all lost. Mum, Dad, I’m sorry.

  She closed her eyes and waited.

  It didn’t come. She heard a thud, and then silence.

  She opened her eyes, cautiously. I’m still alive. I’m whole.

  The creature was on the floor, Harry’s dagger sticking out of its side.

  “Now, Sarah!” he called, shaking her out of her shock.

  Sarah closed her eyes, focusing on her hands burning, burning … She crouched beside the demon, and put her hands on its head. Now she could see it properly. It had the body of a dog, with hard, black hair and a long tail, and its human face looked sickeningly out of place. Sarah shivered with disgust as its fur started weeping. After a minute all that was left was blackwater, dripping from Sarah’s hands.