Ignis (Book 2, Pure Series)

by Mesick, Catherine

  Chapter 10.

  When GM picked me up after the party, I gave her a quick smile and turned my face to the window. I hoped that she would assume I was tired and would not notice that anything was wrong.

  I was to be disappointed. The questions started as soon as we pulled away from the Old Grove.

  "Are you ill, Solnyshko?"

  I opened my eyes and glanced over at GM. She was watching both me and the road, and her eye when it rested upon me was suspicious. I looked away quickly.

  "I'm fine, GM. I'm just a little tired." I tried to sound sleepy.

  "No, no—I think you are ill. Your face is pale with red blotches."

  I raised a hand to cover my face. The crying I had done had left its mark, and GM had noticed—though she didn't quite recognize what it was. Simon had noticed my crying also, and I had told him that cinders from the fire had gotten into my eyes.

  He'd insisted on rinsing them with bottled water—and the coolness of the liquid had had an oddly calming effect. At the very least it had helped me to stem the tide of my tears back at the party.

  "You are ill," GM said firmly. "Or you will be very shortly. You spent too much time out in the cold. I should have foreseen this."

  "I'm fine," I protested.

  But GM went on with her interrogation.

  She asked me a series of questions—whether I felt too hot or had the chills—whether I felt achy all over.

  GM continued her questions until we reached home. I understood why she was so concerned that I might be ill—it was always the same reason. She believed my mother had died of a fever—exacerbated by overexertion—so she always became nervous whenever she thought I was sick. She didn't want illness to claim me too.

  GM sent me up to my room to rest, and I was alone with my worries.

  I sat on my bed and looked around my room. The objects in it were the same as they had always been. My favorite things were still there—my old coverlet, my picture of my parents and me, my lamp with the sunburst shade that reminded me of my mother—they were unchanged. But my world had shifted dramatically.

  Gone was my feeling of safety from last night.

  I knew now that William was well and truly gone, and that no one was watching the house. I also knew that at least two vampires were after me—if not more. Anton and Joshua Martin had both attacked me, and as far as I knew, both of them were still in town. I tried to remember exactly what Innokenti had said about there being a price on my head—but my memory refused to work, and my mind was clouded by fear. I sat for a long time overcome by an unusual feeling.

  I was in the unique and terrible position of knowing that my house was a target for creatures that drank human blood.

  After the first wave of shock had worn off I thought of GM—I realized with horror that she was in danger too. Vampires could come into our house at any time of the day or night, looking for me. And I knew they wouldn't hesitate to kill her if she got in the way.

  A fresh wave of panic washed over me.

  I wanted to warn GM, but I knew she'd never believe me—and why should she? She'd seen some strange things over the last few months, but she had no idea that she'd actually seen a few vampires. And I certainly didn't have any evidence to offer her that would convince her.

  I let my thoughts run down this gloomy track without my seeing any solution. The longer I let my thoughts run, the more William began to crowd into them.

  Soon the tears began to fall again, and I turned my face into my pillow. I didn't want GM to hear me crying.

  I cried until I had no more tears left, then I was left with a deep, horrible ache.

  Why would William leave me? Why would he leave without saying a word?

  Why was he gone?

  I lay on my bed watching the rest of the daylight fade away. And I seemed to sink into insensibility. It dulled the pain.

  As shadows fell across the room, GM came in to check on me.

  She turned on the light and clucked at me disapprovingly.

  "You should be under the covers."

  Once she had me settled in to her satisfaction, she stood with her hands on her hips.

  "Your face is still pale with red blotches. It is as I feared—you are ill, Solnyshko."

  I began to protest that I was fine, but GM waved my protestations aside.

  "You need to rest tonight. If you are still ill in the morning, I will take you to see the doctor. Doctor Lundin has Sunday hours, I believe."

  I tried again to tell GM that I wasn't ill, but she interrupted me.

  "I do not like the blotchiness," she said emphatically.

  Then she left me to rest until dinner.

  My thoughts immediately returned to William. I felt the terrible pain returning to me—the pain of losing him, of never seeing him again—the pain of knowing that he didn't want me and that my love did not matter to him. Hurt continued to wash over me in waves.

  He had abandoned me completely, without even bothering to say good-bye. I didn't even matter enough for him to tell me he was going. I sank deeper and deeper into the pain.

  I wanted to be angry with him, but I found that it just wasn't possible. All I felt was sadness and a hurt so profound that I thought it would tear me apart.

  The same question kept running through my mind.

  Why had he left me?

  Then something came to me through the haze. I still had GM to consider—I'd have to come up with a way to keep her safe. Despite my doubts about her reaction, I would have to try to warn her. And I'd have to come up with a practical way to protect the house. I made an effort to pull myself together. I had to get myself into some kind of state where I could think properly.

  I figured it was nearly time for dinner, so I went to the bathroom, and I washed my face. Then I pulled a comb through my hair. Pain still surged through me, so I made an effort to compartmentalize it—to push it into one corner of my mind and build a wall around it. It was easier to shut the feeling out completely than it was to try to cope with it directly.

  I made a point of going down to dinner before GM could come up to check on me.

  GM gave me a disapproving look as I entered the kitchen—I imagined she thought I should have stayed in bed—but I knew I wasn't ill, and I figured that the sooner I was able to prove that to her, the better.

  GM kept an eye on me as we ate, and I was sure she noticed that I didn't have much of an appetite. But she didn't comment on it, and she didn't object when I helped her clear up after dinner was over.

  As I loaded the dishwasher, I cast an eye over the kitchen. I wondered if there was anything that I could use in the event of a vampire attack. I knew that the bottom drawer to the left of the sink had several boxes of wooden matches—as well as a lighter that we used for our outdoor grill. I spotted a broom in a corner, and I wondered if I could wrap towels around the brush and light them—thus giving myself a makeshift torch with a long reach.

  I figured fire would be the most effective weapon. I'd heard wooden stakes didn't always work, and they seemed like a risky option anyway—especially against an opponent who was faster with much sharper reflexes. Unfortunately, I knew from experience that both of those things were true of Joshua and Anton.

  As I continued to glance around the kitchen, I remembered that GM had once had an oil lamp with a cloth wick. I wondered if I might make use of that.

  "GM, do you still have that old oil lamp?"

  GM blinked at me in surprise. "Oil lamp?"

  "I remember when I was about eight years old you had a lamp with green oil that you used to light in the winter."

  "Yes, yes, I remember now. I think we still have it. But I don't think we have any oil for it anymore."

  "Do you know where it is?" I asked.

  GM thought for a moment. "I believe it's in that small cupboard over the refrigerator. What made you think of that old lamp?"

  "It just popped into my head, that's all," I said.

  I was disappointed to hear that
we probably didn't have any oil, but I figured I might think of a use for the lamp anyway. I resolved to include it with my supplies—I would come back down after GM had gone to sleep and gather up everything I could possibly use to fend off vampires. I knew they could attack during the day, but I had a feeling that any attacks would come in the middle of the night—they did seem to be stealth hunters.

  As GM wrapped up some leftovers, I thought again about warning her.

  Maybe I could give her a warning about something she would understand.

  "The police haven't caught Joshua Martin yet, have they?" I asked abruptly.

  GM looked surprised by the sudden switch in topic. "No, no they haven't. Does that worry you, Solnyshko?"

  Of course, I knew that the police hadn't caught him, and I had a feeling that they never would. But bringing him up seemed like the best way to put GM on alert.

  "It does bother me," I admitted. "I think he might try to come after me. GM, what would you do if he showed up here suddenly?"

  "Here at our house?" GM asked incredulously.

  "Yes," I said. "I think it could happen. And I think we need to be prepared."

  "No wonder you've been looking ill today, if that's what you've been thinking about," GM murmured.

  "What do we do if Joshua shows up here?" I said with a touch of impatience. GM didn't seem to be as concerned as I'd hoped she would be. "I'm serious about this."

  GM reached out and touched my cheek. "These last few months have been very difficult for you, haven't they? I confess that I had not considered the possibility that Joshua Martin could come here. I would think that Charisse and her mother would be in far greater danger."

  I felt a sinking feeling—GM's reaction was entirely normal. To GM, I had really been a minor, even incidental, participant in Joshua's attack. She didn't know that he had set the whole thing up to trap me.

  GM continued. "But it is true that that horrible man did go after you. I suppose that we should be prepared. I will think on it."

  "What if he shows up tonight?" I asked urgently. I could hear the rising panic in my own voice. I wanted GM to be safe. I wanted her to look out for her own welfare. But I was afraid again that I wouldn't be able to convince her of the danger. The proofs I had to offer her she would never believe in.

  "Do not distress yourself," GM said soothingly. "I am aware that this is a serious situation. I will call the police tonight and ask them to keep an eye on our house. And I will keep my cell phone next to my bed in case I need to call."

  It didn't seem like enough to me, but I supposed it would have to do.

  "Thanks, GM. But if you have a strange feeling at any time that tells you that you need to get out of the house right away—I want you to promise me that you'll do it—even if it seems like a silly thing to do."

  GM smiled at me then. "You are a good girl, Katie, to worry about your grandmother. I will promise to do what you ask. And I also promise that I won't go without you."

  I started to object—I knew that she would actually be safer without me, but GM interrupted me.

  "Hush now, and don't protest. I can look after myself and you better than you think. After all, I've kept you alive all these years, haven't I?"

  "Yes, you have," I said, and I couldn't help smiling a little myself.

  "It is settled then. I will take the precautions I have mentioned, and you will stop worrying. This Joshua Martin is only a man—no, 'man' is not the word I want. He is only a thug. And I am more than a match for any average thug."

  I shivered then—I couldn't help it. If only the creatures that stalked our house were ordinary mortals.

  GM noticed the tremor that ran through my body and misinterpreted it. "I see you have a chill. No doubt the cares that have lain heavy upon your mind have worn down your body's defenses. And I am still convinced that all that time you spent out in the cold today did you no good. Go back up to your room and rest. I will finish here in the kitchen."

  I did as she asked and went up to my room, but I knew that real rest would be out of the question.

  I sat on my bed, and my worries welled up within me, threatening to overwhelm me. My mind kept spinning as my fear grew and reached a fever pitch. I was alone now—vulnerable to every monster that stalked the night and wanted to collect the price on my head.

  I seemed to fall into a sort of trance—my mind remained busy, working on problems I could not possibly solve, while my body remained still and my breathing slowed.

  I waited, watching the clock that sat near my bed.

  When it was finally late enough for me to go to sleep, I forced myself to stir. I got ready for bed like I usually did, so that GM would hear all of the usual sounds and wouldn't notice that anything was different. But instead of changing my clothes for the night, I kept my day clothes and my shoes on—that way I could be prepared if it became necessary for me to flee the house with GM.

  Then I climbed under the covers—just in case GM should stop in.

  I turned out the light and settled in to wait until she went to bed.

  Time seemed to crawl by as I waited in the dark, but there was no danger of my falling asleep.

  I was far too worried for that.

  After what seemed like an eternity, I heard GM come up the stairs and head to her room. She typically went to bed late and slept for only a few hours each night—but when she did sleep, she slept heavily, and it could sometimes be hard to wake her. I knew that once she fell asleep, I would be able to go downstairs and collect my supplies.

  GM would be unlikely to hear me moving around in the kitchen.

  I realized then that GM's having her cell phone next to her bed probably wouldn't help her very much. Anyone who broke into the house could attack both of us before she ever woke up.

  I pushed that gloomy thought aside and listened to GM as she moved around, getting ready for the night. Eventually, the sounds of her activity stopped, and the house settled into silence.

  But no house is truly silent, and soon I began to hear little creaks and other sounds that I couldn't quite put a name to. As I thought about what I had to do, my heart began to beat so hard that I imagined it was audible in the room.

  I wondered if that was how human hearts always sounded to vampires.

  Once I thought that enough time had passed for GM to be fully asleep, I switched on my light and walked quietly to my bedroom door.

  I eased it open.

  I had a half-formed idea that a vampire might be standing on the other side of the door, but the hallway outside my lighted room was dark and apparently empty.

  Somehow, I wasn't relieved.

  I stepped out into the hall, and I pulled the door closed until just a narrow sliver of light was visible.

  Then, leaving the hall dark so as not to risk any chance of disturbing GM, I crept down the stairs to the bottom. Using the wall as a guide, I walked through the darkness to the kitchen. Only then did I risk turning on the light.

  Once again, I half-expected to see a vampire standing in the kitchen waiting for me—but the room was empty. Quickly, I gathered up the matches, the automatic lighter, the broom, and a bunch of kitchen towels for my makeshift torch. I even found GM's oil lamp, and though she was right that there was no oil, I took the lamp anyway, grabbing a bottle of olive oil just in case that would work instead.

  Balancing everything carefully, I shut off the light with my elbow. Then I crept down the hall, brushing my shoulder against the wall to help me find my way in the dark. When I reached the end of the hall, I felt with my foot for the stairs and began to climb gingerly.

  I managed to make it to my room, and I set everything on my bed. I remembered something about hairspray being flammable, and I went to the bathroom. I found two cans of hairspray there, and I returned to my room, closing the door.

  I got everything ready, and then I lit a small candle that sat on the table by my bed. After that, I shut off the light. I hoped that having the light off would encourage any inva
ders to come to my room first—with any luck I could keep them away from GM entirely.

  Then I settled down to start my lonely vigil.

  I sat on my bed next to my supplies and stared at the flame on the candle. I began to listen again to the tiny sounds that the house made in the night, and each sound that my ears caught filled me with fear. I was afraid to look anywhere but at the candle—it seemed somehow like the only safe thing in the room. The tapering arrow of light that rose from the wick seemed fragile and delicate—its light all too easily extinguished by a gust of air or the pressure from two fingertips.

  Eventually the light from the candle began to hurt my eyes, and I was forced to look away. I began to adjust to the gloom, and dark shapes, which I knew would appear familiar and innocuous in daylight, seemed to me now suspicious and menacing—every dark mass seemed to hide a vampire.

  Though I knew there was nothing to be afraid of in my room, I couldn't shake off my fear. I told myself repeatedly that none of the shapes could possibly be vampires—if they had been, they certainly wouldn't have waited to attack.

  As time passed, the sounds in the house seemed to get louder—every noise seemed to be someone breaking in.

  I continued to stare around my darkened room, and time seemed to lose all meaning. After what felt like an age, I heard a loud creak. I had fallen into something like a daze, and I snapped into alertness. I heard another loud creak, and I fumbled for my covered broomstick and the lighter. My heart began to hammer painfully, and I waited, listening for yet another creak.

  I was sure a vampire was coming up the stairs.

  Silence ensued, and I strained to hear, my breathing shallow.

  Come on, I thought. Don't make me wait.

  I just want this to be over with.

  But there were no more creaks, and no one battered down my door.

  But maybe that wasn't my stalker's style—Joshua, for example, had said he believed in finesse.

  I looked toward my door, which was heavily shrouded in shadow, and I watched it, expecting to see it ease open.

  But the silence in the room continued to stretch on uninterrupted, and the door remained closed.