A sudden cold current ran over the side of her body. The room changed in temperature, as if the steam had been let out. Sarah shivered.
She stopped dead.
The bathroom door had been opened, ever so slightly.
“Harry?”
He wouldn’t walk in on me like that. He wouldn’t come into the bathroom while I’m having a shower.
“Harry?” she called again.
She felt exposed, naked as she was and wrapped in a towel, her wet hair still trickling down her back.
It’s nothing. It’s a draught. It’s nothing.
She stepped forward to close the door. Her hand was barely on the handle, when the door was grabbed from her and opened wide.
“Hello, Sarah.”
A woman was standing in front of her, a short, blond woman with cold eyes and a black tattoo on the side of her neck. A ring. For a second, Sarah saw black and felt her legs giving way. Her heart was beating so hard, she thought she’d die of fright there and then.
The sgian-dubh is on my desk. My hands. I need the blackwater. Harry, she’s here, Harry! Her thoughts were exploding in her mind like fireworks, the noise deafening, one of them stronger than the rest: She’s here to kill me.
“Are you the Mistress?” she whispered, her voice coming from far away, as if someone else had spoken.
“I’m Cathy Duggan. Or Catherine Hollow, if you prefer. Come and sit down, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart?
She touched Sarah’s arm, softly, leading her towards the bed. Sarah jumped at the touch, and Cathy laughed.
“I’m not going to kill you yet, silly!” Cathy’s fingers burrowed into Sarah’s bare skin as she forced Sarah to sit down beside her.
Sarah flexed her hands, and felt the blackwater flow into them … but her instinct told her she had to listen to what Cathy had to say.
Cathy was smiling. She was beautiful, with those startling blue eyes, her high cheekbones and her fair, wavy hair around her face. Still, there was darkness in those eyes, infinite darkness. And something else.
Fury, Sarah realized. Pure fury, and I’m the object of that rage. Why?
“Why are you here if it’s not to kill me?” Sarah was shaking so hard her teeth started chattering. She wanted to run away, she wanted to scream, but she couldn’t move, she couldn’t cry out. Her blood had turned to ice.
“I enjoy seeing you frightened out of your mind. That’s why I’m here.”
Oh God. She really is crazy.
“You have your father’s eyes.” Cathy stroked her face with cold, delicate fingers. “Shame about your mother’s hair.” She ran her hand through Sarah’s wet hair, gently, then yanked it down suddenly, painfully, making Sarah cry out softly.
“It’s nearly over,” Cathy whispered, stroking Sarah’s hair in long, soft movements. “You managed to kill them all, somehow. But not mine. It’s the end of the Midnights.”
“When?”
“Soon, my darling. I love to see you so scared, but it can’t last forever, can it? Even the best things come to an end.”
“Where?”
“I think you know. I’ve got a big surprise in store for you. Oh and by the way, keep practising your cello. I was told you’re very good.”
Who told you?
“Shame you’ll die too young to do anything with it.”
Crazy cow, Sarah thought, hate burning her up. Cathy touched her face again. Sarah recoiled.
“Soon it’ll all be over, pet. Oh, and give a message to … Harry from me. Tell him I know.” Cathy leaned over to kiss her, and the feeling of Cathy’s cold lips on her cheek made Sarah heave.
Cathy’s body seemed to blur, to lose its contours slowly. She rose from the bed and floated to the window, as if she’d been a ghost. She was now just a watermark etched against the glass, more and more see-through, until it disappeared completely.
All that was left was the noise of the rain tapping on the glass.
“She was here. The Mistress. She was in my room.”
Harry looked up from his phone to see Sarah framed in the living-room doorway, white and shaking. She had thrown on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and her hair was falling in damp strands about her shoulders.
“Oh my God, Sarah, are you OK? Where is she?”
“She’s gone. I’m OK.” Sarah touched her left arm, leading Harry’s gaze to it. The red imprint of cruel fingers, slowly turning purple. Harry took Sarah in his arms and felt her trembling.
“What did she say?”
“That they’ll come for me. Soon. And that I know where it’s going to happen. But I can’t think where …” Sarah shook her head.
“Shhhh. Don’t think about that now.”
“She gave me a message for you.”
Harry’s heart stopped. She knows. Oh God, she knows.
“She said to tell you that she knows,” Sarah echoed.
Yes. Of course.
Of course.
“What does she mean?”
“Nothing. She’s just crazy.”
Sarah studied his eyes. He’s keeping something from me. But she couldn’t think of that now, she had to hide her face in his chest; she had to breathe him in. Harry.
“She disappeared,” Sarah said into his shoulder. “Sort of … dissolved. How did she do that?”
“I think … I think it wasn’t her. She wasn’t really there. It was her astral self – her astral drop, it’s called. She can travel out of her body.”
“She was real enough.” Sarah showed him the darkening bruise on her arm.
“Astral drops can touch things, they can feel things.”
“Can you do it? Can you travel out of your body?”
“No.”
Sarah held him tighter. She wanted to hide her face in the crook of his neck and just stay there. Forever. They sat in each other’s arms, in silence, each with their own fear, with their own burden. They both felt the ground was about to open under their feet – they both feared that the fall would kill them.
It was as easy as breathing, really, something Sarah’s body did for her, something she had no control over. She had to be close to him, and that was it. She had to hide her face in his chest and hold him tight, she had to breathe him in, to touch the back of his head and braid her hands behind his back, to keep him there forever. She felt so alone she could have cried – he was the only one who could save her.
She wasn’t expecting him to break the rules. She wasn’t expecting him to push her down on the sofa like that, pinning her down by her shoulders. She couldn’t have imagined that she’d want him to do that, as much as he wanted it, and more. She realized that until then she hadn’t known what desire was; she’d never felt it before, and it felt as strong as terror, as sweet as love. And though she knew it was so, so wrong, the tingling feeling coursing through her body gave her no option but to give in.
A wave of tenderness swept her from head to toe, and left her warm and limp, ready to fall. She felt her loneliness melt away, and for the first time in her life, she felt safe.
Harry was drowning. He was afraid it’d all be over by tomorrow – he knew it would all be over soon, anyway – and he couldn’t lose her without claiming her first. As she put her arms around him, tenderly, he couldn’t take it any more.
I’m not your friend; I’m not your family.
I’m in love with you.
“You’re all I have,” he whispered in her neck. Their mantra, their secret code. The only I love you they were allowed to say.
He disentangled himself from her arms, took her by the shoulders, and pushed her down on the sofa – and stopped for an instant, horrified at what he was doing. She looked at him with wide eyes, surprised. But there was something else in her eyes, something that made him tremble. It was a yes. He took her face in his hands and kissed her slowly and deeply, while she wrapped her arms around him again and held him close, every drop of blood in her veins turning to honey.
My first kiss, she mana
ged to think. So this is what it feels like, this is what everybody talks about …
Harry was afraid of his own desire, and tried to hold back. She was so small and vulnerable in his arms – he wanted to protect her, he’d never hurt her. And then the tenderness went, and was replaced by hunger, a hunger so deep it went beyond his will. Just a little more, just a little more – I’ll stop in a minute, before it’s too late – I promise I’ll stop … She made a sound like a little animal, and held him tighter, harder. He knew then that he had to stop. Not like this, not while you don’t know who I am.
He pulled his lips and his body away from hers, holding her softly again, like he used to.
Sarah sensed his change, and she was crushed, but she let him hold her in his arms, because to move away would have been like a little death. She felt liquid, shapeless; she needed him to stop her from dissolving into nothing. Harry felt her consternation, and took her face in his hands again. She looked bereft.
“Soon, when all this is over,” he promised.
If he leaves me, I’ll die, Sarah thought, and immediately pushed the thought away, as if it’d been a comet across the sky, beautiful and shining, but a sorrowful omen for everyone to see.
40
Eyes That Watch
Time to build, time to destroy
Not for you to keep
Cathy
I’ve been watching you for a long time, following you as you grew. I was there when you came out of the hospital in your mother’s arms. I looked into your pram as you were sleeping in the garden. How easy it would have been to suffocate you, then.
I watched you from the window, playing on the rug and toddling around. I used to sit in front of your school, and wait for you to come out, in your little pinafore and your red coat. How easy it would have been to snatch you, and take you away forever.
I was there the first time you played, at the Concert for Schools, sitting where I couldn’t be seen. It all made me sick. To see the daughter I was supposed to have, the life that should have been mine. Still, I couldn’t stay away.
It didn’t even occur to me, to have a life of my own. What life could be, without James, without his children? Without children at all?
I came so close to killing you, many, many times. Especially since Nocturne arrived. We watched you on the roundabout, in your little coat and your favourite shiny shoes, your hair blowing in the wind. How I hate your hair, your mother’s hair! We watched you from the bushes along the river, silent and still.
You saw us, but I don’t think it registered. I don’t think you realized you were staring death in the face. You were only seven.
I nearly told Nocturne to go and wring your neck.
I nearly told him to bring you to me, so we could be mother and daughter. I could bring you up. But I knew it was impossible. You have her hair, an endless reminder that you’re not mine. How could you be my daughter, when you have Anne’s blood in your veins?
We waited, Nocturne and I, for the right time to destroy your parents. We’re waiting for the right time to destroy you.
The last time I see your black hair down your back, it will have turned red.
My darling, darling Sarah.
41
Lies
I wish the world could change for us
They were in the living room, waiting. Sarah kept pacing up and down, straightening things as she went, sweeping away particles of dust, wiping invisible stains. She cooked lunch, something or other made with filo pastry, which they barely noticed, and barely nibbled at. They knew that they should have forced themselves to eat, but they just couldn’t. They drank coffee, to keep them going. Cathy’s words lingered between them: I enjoy seeing you frightened out of your mind. She was certainly succeeding in doing that.
Time went on, hour after hour, trickling like the rain on the windows. The house was shrouded in perfect silence. Night fell, and it wasn’t much darker than the day had been. The rain was less intense, but there was still a drizzle that kept falling, falling.
“I wonder what Cathy’s demon looks like?” Sarah was sorting her CDs into alphabetical order.
Harry didn’t reply. He had a gun in his belt. He was ready to use it. He was ready to silence Cathy.
“Sarah, you need to sleep. They’re trying to wear us out.”
“So do you.”
“I never sleep anyway. You go first. Come on.”
Harry sat in Sarah’s armchair, and Sarah lay in her bed, fully dressed. She tossed and turned for a long while, but finally fell asleep.
And she dreamt.
She was at the play park, on the roundabout. She could see her own legs, her own arms – but they were a little girl’s legs and arms. She was wearing the red coat she had when she was seven, and her black patent ballerinas.
I’m a child again.
She kept going round and round. It was the middle of the day, but the light was muted and the sky clouded over. There was nobody around. Like so often in her dreams, she felt like she was the only human being left in the world.
As she turned, she caught a glimpse of something strange. Something was looking at her. Someone. It looked like a man, but he was very, very tall, and completely black. His eyes were shining red among the bushes, at the edge of the play park. He had huge arms that went down to his knees.
Sarah’s little heart started beating in double time. She tried to stop and jump down, but the roundabout was going too fast. It went round once more, and she saw it again.
And again.
And no more. It was gone.
The roundabout stopped, and Sarah jumped off, terrified. She looked around. She turned and turned, the grey sky turning with her, until she saw it once more.
He was right in front of her, lifting her up by the shoulders, to his face.
She screamed, and woke up in her room.
“Harry, the play park!” she gasped.
“What?”
“He’s at the play park. I saw it. That’s what she meant, when she said I knew where it was going to be.” She jumped down from her bed. “Let’s go.”
They ran all the way, in the dark. Sarah wanted finally to end it, so badly. She wanted to be free, or she wanted to die. She couldn’t live that besieged life any more.
She looked at her watch. One o’clock in the morning. The silence was uninterrupted, the darkness broken only by the streetlights and the neon signs of the takeaways on the other side of the river.
She stood beside the roundabout, and waited, Harry circling her slowly, the sgian-dubh in his hand, the gun in his belt.
And they came.
“Hi, Sarah. How are you, my dear?” Cathy strode up to them, smiling her showbiz smile, as if they were just meeting for a coffee. She sat on the roundabout and patted the place beside her. “Come and sit, let’s have a chat,” she said cosily. Sarah felt sick.“I can only stay a wee while. Then I’ll leave you to Nocturne.”
Harry gasped, and looked around frantically. He knew who Nocturne was. All Gamekeepers knew.
“Before you both die, there’s something I need to tell you, Sarah. This man here –” Cathy pointed at Harry, as if she was telling some hilarious little story – “is not who he says he is.”
Harry growled, and launched himself at her. Cathy fell, banging her head on the metal bar. She kneeled on the tarmac, holding her head.
“Harry!” whispered Sarah.
Something had come out of the darkness, something with red eyes and gleaming teeth. Something that had been watching them, hidden. Nocturne, the creature of Sarah’s dream.
And then it clicked in Sarah’s mind. It wasn’t a dream. It was a memory.
She’d seen him at the same play park, many years before. Anne had gone to buy bread across the bridge, and she’d asked Sarah to wait for her. She’d sat on the roundabout, and she’d seen … him. In the bushes.
Had it been an omen of what was to come, ten years later? Is that how I’ll meet my death?
Nocturne
ran towards them and helped Cathy up, surprisingly gently.
“Sarah, don’t listen to her.” Harry’s face was very white in the orange light of the streetlamps.
“This man is not your cousin,” she hissed. “His name is Sean Hannay. He’s been lying to you all this time.”
“Don’t listen to her …”
“He killed your cousin to take his place. He wanted to be a Midnight; there was nothing he wanted more. And he killed for it.”
“What?” Sarah felt her head spinning. She looked into Harry’s face.
Harry rearranged his features as quickly as he could, into a look of defiance.
“She’s crazy! Don’t listen to her!”
But it was too late. She’d seen it. She’d seen the truth in his eyes, just for a split second. She knew.
“Harry …”
“Sarah …” He felt the world crumble around him. Everything fell, and he stood in a desert of rubble and dust and nothing. Hope, love, pride – it was all gone, like sand between his fingers. He could not hold on. He could not stop it from happening.
“The dream I had last night – that’s what it meant?” whispered Sarah.
She felt her heart breaking. It was so real a feeling that she brought a hand to her chest. There it goes, it’s breaking. Fluttering like a dying butterfly.
“I didn’t kill Harry. I would never harm him. Let me explain …”
“You lied to me. You lied all along.”
A wave of rage overwhelmed her, drowning her. Like when she had destroyed her parents’ room and burnt her dream diary. She was so angry that she was anger itself, an empty shell but for that all-consuming rage. She walked towards Harry, under Cathy’s smiling gaze, and she lifted her hands. She felt her power flooding them, burning them …
Dreams (Sarah Midnight Trilogy 1) Page 27