I looked up and saw with relief that it was William.
"Was that guy bothering you?" William nodded his head in the direction of the now-vanished Simon. His tone was light, even joking, but I thought I detected an undercurrent of anger.
"Your hearing is pretty good, isn't it?" I said ruefully.
"Yes," William said, giving me his little half smile.
"How much did you overhear?" I asked.
"All of it," William replied.
"So you know that Simon is unhappy about you and me."
Simon and William had met on a few occasions—neither one had seemed to take to the other.
"Yes," William said, "and I think your friend has a lot of nerve. But because he's your friend, I decided not to make an issue of it."
"Thanks," I said. "Simon—"
I realized I didn't know quite how to finish the sentence. I wanted to say something soothing.
"Simon means well," I said at last.
William didn't seem to like the topic very much.
"You have to get to class, don't you?" he said. "Lead the way."
We walked through the crowded hallway together, and I couldn't help wishing that William could actually go to school with me—then we could spend time together every day.
"Did you talk to your grandmother?" William asked.
"Yes, I did. She said you can come over for dinner tonight."
"Tonight?" William said. "Are you serious?"
"Yes, I'm serious. I wouldn't joke about something like this. Besides, it's not like she knows you're a—"
I stopped abruptly. The hallway was not the place for unguarded talk.
William gave me a wry smile.
"So can you come over tonight?" I asked.
"Of course. It's what I wanted—or don't you remember?"
"GM said that she's going to make pasta or something like that. Do you—you actually eat anything?"
"I can," William said. "It won't be a problem."
I realized that I'd never really asked William about his diet. I did know that he didn't drink human blood—he'd reassured me on that score—but I didn't know what he actually did consume—if anything.
"So what do you eat—drink—whatever it is you do?"
William glanced around. "I don't think this is quite the place for that discussion."
"Sorry," I said. "GM is going to ask you questions, too. She'll want to know a lot about you."
"I'll answer her questions," William said.
"You will?"
"Of course."
I was stunned. "But you almost never answer questions when I ask them."
William shot me an amused glance. "You're exaggerating."
"No I'm not. You never tell me anything. Why will you answer questions for GM and not for me?"
"Don't you want me to answer questions for your grandmother?"
"Of course I do."
"Then you'll find out some of the things you want to know tonight."
Somehow that wasn't exactly an answer to my question.
My irritation seemed to amuse William further.
"What time is dinner?" William asked.
"Six-thirty."
"I'll be there then."
He smiled and turned as if he were about to leave.
I reached out and grabbed him by the sleeve. "William, wait. There's something else I have to tell you."
He turned back, and we started walking again.
I glanced over my shoulder, and then lowered my voice. "This may not be the best place to discuss this, but we won't be able to talk about it at dinner, either. I heard this morning that a girl was attacked last night in the Old Grove. From the description of the wounds, it sounds like a vampire attack."
William looked at me sharply. "You don't need to be worried, Katie. I'm keeping an eye on the situation."
"You already know about the attack?"
"Yes."
"Are Anton and Innokenti responsible for it?" I asked.
"I'm fairly sure it was one of them—but I don't know for sure which one it was."
"So they're going to hang around town?"
William was grim. "It looks likely."
"What are we going to do?" I asked. "If they stay here there will be more attacks."
"We aren't going to do anything," William said firmly. "I'll take care of those two."
"What happened exactly?" I asked.
"The incident occurred around midnight. The victim was a girl from this school—her first name is Annamaria."
I drew in my breath sharply. I realized now why Bryony and Irina had looked so worried.
"Do you know her?" William asked.
"Yes," I said. I felt light-headed.
"From what I hear, she's going to be okay."
"I know—I heard that too. It's just—"
I had to stop. A terrible thought had just occurred to me.
"Katie, I'm going to look out for you and everybody in this town."
William's tone was reassuring, but I was too rattled to be soothed.
William stopped walking. "If I'm not mistaken, this is your classroom. You should go in. The bell is about to ring."
I clutched at William's sleeve again.
"What about Annamaria?" I asked softly. "Is she safe from—"
I glanced around and lowered my voice further still. "Is Annamaria going to become a vampire?"
"No," William replied, "she isn't."
"Are you sure?" I asked. "Do you really know that, or are you just trying to make me feel better?"
"I went over to visit Annamaria this morning," William said. "That's why I was a little later meeting up with you than I intended to be. I asked her a few questions. She isn't in any danger."
"William, how does it happen? How does someone become a vampire?"
"Katie—"
I clutched his arm more tightly. "William, don't put me off. I need to know. I won't go to class unless you tell me."
William did not look happy, but after a quick glance around, he answered me.
"You have to be bitten by a vampire. Then you have to drink his blood in return. Then you have to die. Typically, death occurs because the vampire continues to return and drain his victim night after night. The human body can only handle so much blood loss. Annamaria hasn't consumed any blood, so she should be safe. The vampire who attacked her is unlikely to be able to get her in the hospital—and I doubt he wants to anyway."
"So—"
"Katie, I've answered your question. Now go to class. I'll see you tonight. It really will be okay."
With that, he was gone.
I walked into class and sat down. I was really shaken up by the fact that it was Annamaria who had been attacked by a vampire. I tried to pay attention in class, but my thoughts kept wandering back to her.
What if she was only the beginning?
The rest of the day passed in a blur, and I felt a sense of relief when I heard the final bell ring. I hurried to my locker, and when I shut my locker door, Charisse was standing on the other side.
I couldn't help jumping a little. "You startled me, Charisse."
Charisse was grim. "I want you to do something for me. This has gone far enough."
"Is something wrong?"
"Katie, I want you to come home with me right now."
"Ordinarily, I'd be glad to," I said. "But I have to get home. William is coming over for dinner tonight. GM and I have to get everything ready."
"Your grandmother won't mind if you're just a little late," Charisse said firmly. "I just need you to see something. Then I'll drive you right home. It'll only take a few minutes—I promise."
I was puzzled. "You want me to see something? What is it? Can't you just bring it in tomorrow and show me then?"
Anger flickered in Charisse's eyes. "I can't bring it in tomorrow. And I can't tell you what it is—you have to see it to understand. This is really important to me. And it's important to you, too."
I felt a flash
of irritation. "Charisse, tonight is important to me. I want this dinner to go well. I want GM and William to like each other."
Charisse just stared at me steadily. She continued to look angry, but there was something else there too—was it fear?
"You're sure it will only take a few minutes?" I asked.
"I'm positive," Charisse said.
I sighed. "Fine."
The day had grown even colder since the morning, and as I followed Charisse out to the student parking lot, our breath rose up into the air as frosty white vapor. We got into her car, and I shivered in the car's frigid interior.
Charisse started the car and pulled out onto the road in silence.
I glanced over at her as we drove. There was tension in her hands as she gripped the steering wheel, and her lips were pressed into a grim line. I felt myself growing concerned for her. What could be at her house that had her so upset?
We pulled into her housing development, and she parked the car in a cul-de-sac. I glanced around—we were several streets over from her house.
"Why are we parking here?" I asked. "Is there any reason we can't park at your house?"
"Leave your stuff here," Charisse said. "It'll be safe. I'm just taking my keys."
She got out of the car, and I followed her.
"We're going to have to sneak up to my house" Charisse said grimly. "Just follow me and try to be quiet."
"Charisse, are you okay?" I asked. "You're acting really odd."
"I'm acting odd?" Charisse's lips curled into a mocking semblance of her usual smile. "You should see what's going on at my house."
Charisse led me across several streets and then into someone's backyard. She crouched down against the side of the house and motioned for me to do the same. We could see into Charisse's yard from our vantage point.
"Charisse, what are we doing?" I whispered. "Why don't we just drive up to your house like normal people?"
"I don't want my mom to know I'm home yet."
I was puzzled. "What's your mom doing home this early?"
Charisse's mother was an attorney, and I knew she usually worked long hours.
"Lately, my mother is home all the time," Charisse whispered. "It's really not normal. Just watch for a moment and don't say anything."
I waited silently, just watching as Charisse had instructed, but nothing happened. Just as my legs were starting to cramp, Charisse rose a little.
"It looks like the way is clear," she whispered. "Come on."
Charisse hurried over to her own backyard, still crouching down.
I hurried after her.
Charisse stopped just underneath a large window. I had been to her house many times, and I knew that that window looked in on her kitchen.
I crouched under the window beside her.
"I'm going to look in," Charisse said, and she lowered her voice so much that it was barely audible. "I'll let you know when it's okay for you to look too."
Charisse reached up to grab the ledge, and inch by inch she raised herself up till her eyes were just high enough to look in.
"It's okay to look in right now," she said in the same almost-inaudible whisper. "But be ready to duck down if I give the word."
I reached for the ledge and pulled myself up slowly just as Charisse had done.
The scene that met my eyes was not out of the ordinary. Mrs. Graebel was seated at a table that I had sat at many times myself. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she was wearing a pink turtleneck sweater. She held a mug in her hands, and I could see that she no longer wore her wedding ring. But there was nothing unusual about that—she was in the process of getting a divorce.
As I watched, Mrs. Graebel lifted her mug and took a drink.
I dipped back below the ledge.
Charisse frowned and slipped down beside me.
"What are you doing?" she hissed.
"What am I doing? What are you doing?" I whispered back. "I feel really weird spying on your mom like this. Was it really necessary to drag me over here so that I could watch her have a drink at her own kitchen table?"
Anger flashed in Charisse's eyes.
"Look at her," Charisse whispered. "Really look at her. Think about what you know about my mother, and then tell me what you see."
I started to raise myself up again, but Charisse pulled me back.
"Wait," she whispered. "I'll have to look to make sure the way is clear again."
I suppressed my irritation as Charisse slowly pulled herself up and looked into the kitchen once again. After a moment, she waved me up.
I was really anxious to be done with the whole thing, but Charisse was my friend, so I pulled myself up beside her.
Mrs. Graebel was sitting as before, sipping from her mug. I felt ridiculous, peering in at her without her knowledge, but I tried to evaluate the scene before me. Charisse seemed very sure that something was wrong. Had I missed something?
I examined Mrs. Graebel's expression as best I could. She certainly didn't look unhappy—in fact, she looked calm and peaceful—almost dreamy.
It was true that Mrs. Graebel wasn't the dreamy type—she was very energetic and no-nonsense. But perhaps the end of her marriage had taken some pressure off of her.
As I continued to look at Mrs. Graebel, I realized that there was something a little careless about her ponytail—and I had never seen her less than perfectly groomed. I had also never seen her wearing anything like the slouchy turtleneck she was wearing. I almost invariably saw her in suits, even on the weekends, and on the rare days when she took off and wasn't in suits, her taste was fashionable and somewhat severe.
I frowned. The turtleneck looked like it was too big for her. Had Mrs. Graebel lost weight?
"You see it now, don't you?" Charisse whispered. "You can see that she's changed."
"Your mother doesn't like pink does she?" I whispered back.
"No, she doesn't," Charisse hissed. "Her favorite color is black—followed closely by gray."
"I don't know, Charisse," I whispered. "One pink turtleneck doesn't really seem like the end of the world to me."
Out of the corner of my eye I could see something move in the kitchen, and Charisse tugged fiercely on my coat sleeve.
"Duck!" she hissed.
We both dropped down below the ledge, and Charisse continued to stare upward as if she wished she could see through the wall.
"What is it?" I whispered.
Charisse gave me another sharp tug on my sleeve and pressed a finger to her lips.
After a moment, Charisse motioned firmly for me to stay put. Then she crept slowly up toward the window, till she could see in once again.
I watched as her eyes narrowed.
"I knew it," she hissed.
I looked at her questioningly.
"I knew he was coming over to the house while I was gone," she whispered.
"Who?" I asked.
Charisse ducked down beside me, her eyes blazing. "It's Joshua—the guy my mom is seeing. He's never around when I get home, but I always have the feeling that he's only just left. I see now that I was right. This is what you really need to see."
She moved up to the window and watched again. Then she motioned for me to join her.
I peered into the kitchen, and this time I could see a man sitting at the table across from Mrs. Graebel. He was blond and good-looking, and he rested his chin on his hand as he gazed at Mrs. Graebel. For her part, Mrs. Graebel's expression had grown even dreamier. She had set her mug down, and she was leaning on her elbows, gazing back at the blond man.
I ducked down below the window ledge again. I didn't feel like watching any longer.
Charisse glared at me. "What are you doing?"
"This is weird," I whispered back. "I don't want to do this anymore."
Charisse dropped down beside me.
"Katie, this is exactly what I brought you to see," Charisse whispered fiercely. "You have to see the way the two of them interact. It's just not nor
mal. It's like my mom's under a spell."
"I'm not going to spy on your mom and her boyfriend," I whispered back.
"But you have to see them."
"I've seen enough," I said.
"Well?" Charisse demanded.
"Well, what?" I asked. It was cold, and I was getting tired of crouching down below the window like some kind of criminal.
"What do you think about the two of them? Don't you think there's an unhealthy atmosphere there?"
"I think maybe it's—"
"Yes?"
I hesitated. I'd almost said 'love,' but that seemed a little too strong, and such a term would surely upset Charisse.
I tried again. "Maybe they're—happy."
Anger flashed in Charisse's eyes. "Happy? You call that happy?"
I tried to choose my words carefully. "I know it's hard to see your mom dating again—"
Charisse cut me off. "'Dating' is not the issue. My mom is home when she should be working. She's not acting like herself. And that man is with her when I'm not around. Something's not right."
"I don't know why your mom is home when she's usually at work, but—"
"Katie, you know, there's more than one reason why I wanted you to see my mom today, and I'm glad you got to see her with Joshua—that's the way you look when you're with William."
"You're really not helping your case with that," I said.
"It's true," Charisse hissed furiously. "That's the same dreamy, lost look you get when you're with William. William and Joshua are both the same. They're both trouble. And I heard William was seen with you at school today. He's got no right to be in our school."
I very nearly jumped to my feet, but I stopped myself in time—Mrs. Graebel and her boyfriend would surely see me.
"Charisse, I'm going back to the car. I'm not doing this anymore."
"Don't you dare leave!" Charisse hissed.
But I was already moving along the back of the house, still crouching down. I didn't care particularly if Charisse was following or not. I would wait by the car, and if she didn't show up, I would just walk home.
But as I reached the end of the wall, someone stepped into my path, and I was forced to stop short.
I looked up. In front of me was the blond man from the kitchen.
Charisse ran up beside me and grabbed me by the arm, pulling me back.
Ignis (Book 2, Pure Series) Page 6