Ignis (Book 2, Pure Series)

by Mesick, Catherine

  Branden shrugged. "You thought it was funny a minute ago."

  "No, you thought it was funny a minute ago," Simon said. "We weren't quite so amused."

  "Whatever," Branden replied. "It's a funny story no matter what you say."

  Branden and Simon continued to argue, but I was struck by what Branden had said. It had never occurred to me to wonder how GM had come to settle here in Elspeth's Grove, and now that I knew Irina's family was from Krov like we were, it seemed to me an odd coincidence that both of us should have found our way to the same small town.

  "What do you mean the Russian mob was here?" I asked abruptly.

  Both Simon and Branden turned to look at me.

  "He doesn't mean anything," Simon said.

  "I mean moonshine," Branden replied grinning. "Illegal hooch."

  "Like during prohibition?" I asked. "What would be the point of that? It's not like alcohol is illegal."

  "No," Branden said. "But you do have to buy it at a state store, and a lot of people don't like to go to the trouble of doing that—especially not college kids."

  An image of my grandmother selling bottles of homebrewed alcohol out of the trunk of her car flashed through my mind, and I had to work really hard to suppress a sudden laugh. I couldn't think of anything less likely.

  I shook my head. "Even if people were selling alcohol illegally around here, how would that attract the Russian mob? I would imagine it's too small a business. It wouldn't attract criminals on an international level."

  Branden looked smug. "You see, I'm being clever."

  "You? Clever?" Simon snorted.

  "Yes, me," Branden replied. "I'm giving the story to you in pieces, just like the cops got it. The illegal hooch operation was actually a front."

  Simon snorted again. "You don't know what you're talking about. You're supposed to use a legal business as a front—the point is to not attract the attention of the police. If your business is illegal to begin with the police are going to come looking for you. That's exactly what you don't want."

  "That depends on what it is you're trying to do. The mob wanted to attract the attention of the police."

  "That doesn't make any sense," Simon said.

  "Sure it does." Branden said complacently, as if he'd been dying to make his point. "You set up something illegal but minor, let the police find it and shut it down, and then you settle down to be good, law-abiding citizens, and people stop wondering why there are so many immigrants from the same part of Russia here. And it doesn't seem so strange when they start bringing more and more relatives over—because they've been assimilated, you know. And what's more natural than that families should come over so they could all be together?"

  "So what are you saying?" Simon asked.

  "I'm saying that they wanted to lull the cops into a false sense of security—the cops think they've taught them a lesson, but the cops were really just fooled by a blind. Now the mobsters are free to pursue their real plan."

  "Which is?" Simon asked.

  "Mining."

  "Mining?" Simon repeated scornfully. "I think someone would notice that."

  "You don't know what they're mining for," Branden said.

  "What are they mining for?" Simon asked. "And where are they keeping all their equipment? It's pretty hard to hide one of those shaft jumbo drills."

  "No one knows what they're mining for—it's something they want to keep secret. And apparently they don't need any equipment—at least not other than the old fashioned kind. They're digging."

  "Digging," Simon said.

  "Yes."

  "Then why did you say mining?"

  "Because they're digging for something that's buried very deep," Branden said.

  "Like buried treasure?" Simon asked.

  "Exactly."

  "But no one knows what it is?" Simon asked.

  "That's right."

  "Where did you hear all this genius stuff?"

  "I already told you way back at the beginning."

  "Well, remind me."

  "I heard it in Social Studies class."

  "And this was presented as fact—that members of the Russian mob moved here to search for buried treasure?"

  "Well, it wasn't presented as fact exactly—more as an example of the types of rumors that spring up around groups of immigrants."

  "So, it was presented as something that wasn't true?"

  "Yeah," Branden said. "You know you're taking this way too seriously. This was supposed to be funny."

  "It's offensive," Simon said.

  "Katie doesn't seem to be upset," Branden replied. "So I think you should relax."

  "Maybe Katie isn't offended, but I am," Simon said.

  "On Katie's behalf?"

  "On Katie's behalf."

  Simon and Branden continued to quarrel.

  I knew the argument wasn't serious, and I saw Charisse looking on in tolerant amusement, so I just let them keep talking. Simon and Branden typically didn't listen to me when I tried to interrupt one of their arguments anyway.

  I didn't really believe Branden's tale about the Russian bootleggers, but once again I was struck by the odd coincidence that both my grandmother and the Neverovs had found their way from Krov, Russia to the small town of Elspeth's Grove. And according to Branden's rumor there were others. I didn't know of any other Russian families in the area, but that didn't mean they weren't around. I wondered if those families had come from Krov, too—and if so, how did they all find our town?

  I thought suddenly of the letters GM had been receiving, and a half-formed suspicion rose in my mind—could GM be up to something that involved the Russian families in Elspeth's Grove? She was certainly up to something that she didn't want me to know about.

  I pushed the thought away quickly—the very idea that GM would be involved in something illegal was ridiculous.

  I agreed with Simon that an illegal mining operation was as unlikely as a moonshine operation—he was right that there was no place to hide the equipment. But the idea that there could be something of value underground gave me pause.

  I thought back to the strange frozen man I had seen emerging from the cave in the Old Grove after I had wandered away from Bryony's party. I thought back to October too, to my own journey through that same cave in the dark when I had followed the twisting white smoke and found Gleb Mstislav. Gleb and his son Timofei had been taking shelter there during the day when Gleb was most vulnerable, but I wondered now if there had been any other reason for their presence there. Could they have been looking for something?

  I remembered with a sudden jolt how William had found me in the cave, spying on Gleb and Timofei, and had pulled me out to safety. I remembered his face as he had stood in the forest, blocking my path to the cave, determined not to let me go back down into it.

  I could see him so clearly that it was almost as if he were standing before me. I felt a sharp pang of loss once again, and the feelings I had been holding at bay all day welled up with me, threatening to overwhelm me. Why had he left me? Why had he gone back to Russia without saying a word? The pain was so fierce that I felt tears stinging my eyes. Though I tried to block it out, I wanted to see William again more than I wanted anything, and there was no way I could do that. I could never, ever see him again.

  Or could I? It suddenly occurred to me that GM had asked me to go to Russia over Christmas—and I had refused back when William was still with me. But maybe I could go. The idea seized me strongly. If I could see William one last time, hear his voice one last time—even if he turned away from me—it would be worth it.

  "Katie, are you okay?"

  Charisse was staring at me now, as were Branden and Simon who had apparently stopped arguing.

  "Are you okay?" Charisse asked again.

  "Yes, I'm fine," I said. My cheeks felt warm, and I could feel that my heart was racing. I made an effort to be calmer. "Why would you think I wasn't okay?"

  "It's just that you suddenly got this crazy look on
your face," Charisse said. "You kind of looked like you might go running out of the room. It wasn't a normal look."

  "I'm fine. Really." I hadn't realized how unguarded I had allowed myself to be. "I—"

  I tried to come up with an explanation, but nothing came to me. "I'm—just fine."

  Simon and Charisse exchanged worried looks, and I felt a flash of irritation—no doubt they thought my strange mood had something to do with William. They were right, but it didn't make the situation any less irritating.

  Branden shot a glance at Simon and Charisse. "Lighten up, you two. If Katie says she's fine, she's fine." He turned to me. "I make weird faces all the time too. You go ahead and make the faces you need to make. Don't worry about it."

  Branden's support was unexpected, and he made a face that was so ridiculous that I couldn't help but laugh.

  "Katie," Simon said ominously, "you'd better be really careful if you're doing anything that Branden thinks is normal."

  After lunch, I waited anxiously for the day to end. I even considered skipping the rest of my classes and just heading home—something I would never do under ordinary circumstances. But I knew GM would likely be at home working and would be furious that I had skipped both school and her escort. And that would hardly help me when I made my case for going to Russia.

  GM had been eager and excited about the trip before, but what if she no longer wanted to go? What if she demanded an explanation for my changing my mind? I certainly couldn't tell her that I was going to look for William. If she wanted a reason, I'd have to hope that a good one came to me.

  At long last, the day ended, and I called GM. She picked me up, and we rode home in silence. I figured I would wait until we got home to spring my request. For her part, GM seemed to have something on her mind.

  We reached home, and both of us went into the kitchen—I was typically in the habit of having a snack when I came home.

  Today, however, food could wait.

  "GM, I need to talk to you," I said breathlessly.

  "And I need to talk to you." GM's tone was formal, and her expression had gone very stern—I knew that meant trouble.

  "Is there any chance I can talk to you first?" I asked.

  "No," GM replied. "Have a seat, please."

  I sank into a nearby chair, and I felt my chances of going to Russia slipping away. If she was already angry, then—

  I didn't allow myself to complete the thought. I waited uncomfortably to hear what GM had to say.

  "It's that boy, isn't it?" she asked, her voice clear and cold.

  I felt a flash of panic run through me. "How did you—"

  I stopped before I could say anything incriminating.

  "How did I know? Of course I knew. I see you moping around here. I see you start at every sound. And you've been acting strange at night—especially the night you sat up with the window open—and it's been getting worse lately. That boy has done something, hasn't he?"

  I relaxed a little—she didn't know that William had abandoned me and gone to Russia. But I was still on dangerous ground.

  "William's been a bit distant lately," I said slowly.

  "What's happened?" GM asked sharply. "Has he broken your heart? I don't want you to be unhappy."

  Pain lanced through me. I wished she hadn't assessed my feelings quite so accurately.

  "You said you would give him a chance," I said.

  "A chance is not a pass for everything."

  I made an effort to smile. "I'm fine, really." It seemed to me that I had been saying that a lot lately. "I'll be all right—I promise."

  GM stared at me for a long moment, and then she sighed heavily. "I suppose you have to go through things like this. We all do. So I will step back for now. But I did warn that boy. If he does the wrong thing, I will have my revenge on him."

  GM's tone was so menacing that I couldn't help smiling for real.

  "You laugh, but I am serious," she said.

  "I know," I replied. I didn't doubt GM's mettle for a moment.

  She took a deep breath.

  "Now, what was it that you wanted to talk about?"

  I felt my nerves coming back. I tried to think of a good way to broach the idea of a trip to Russia. But nothing was coming to me.

  GM eyed me closely. "What is it, Solnyshko? You look uneasy. Is this about that boy? You just said you were fine, but you fill me with doubts again."

  GM's perceptiveness was starting to unnerve me. I wished she wasn't so close to the truth.

  "Is it okay for me to change my mind?" I blurted out suddenly.

  GM brightened. "About the boy? Is that what was been troubling you? Yes, of course, Solnyshko. You are perfectly free to leave him."

  "No, that's not what I meant. Can we still go to Russia?"

  GM stared at me in surprise. "What is it that you are saying? You would like to go to Russia?"

  "Yes—I would like to go to Russia."

  GM's face lit up. "For Christmas?"

  "Yes. For Christmas."

  GM stood up and pulled me into a hug. "Yes, Solnyshko. Of course we can go to Russia for Christmas."

  I was stunned. GM was seldom so effusive. She took a step back and beamed at me. "I will make plans at once."

  "You're not upset?" I asked. "This is kind of last minute."

  "No, no my dear child, I am not upset at all."

  My heart leaped. GM had really said yes. We were going to Russia. I was going to see William again. Nothing was going to keep me from him—even if he no longer loved me.

  GM continued. "Christmas in Russia is just the thing for you. I have no doubt that it will bring you out of the melancholy mood you have fallen into. And it will be wonderful for you to finally see Russia without that horrible cloud of superstition hanging over it. This trip will be different from the last one." She waved her hands. "Go, have some food now. Refresh yourself. I have arrangements I must make right away."

  GM hurried out of the room.

  As I sat at the kitchen table, eating a snack, I thought over GM's words—unfortunately, I knew that the cloud of superstition that she thought had lifted was still to be found hanging over the town of Krov.

  It suddenly occurred to me that I had just volunteered myself for something very dangerous.

  Innokenti had wanted me to return to Krov, and I knew that if he discovered I was in Russia, that he would most definitely come to find me. I also knew that the price on my head would attract other vampires to me—vampires that might even be worse than Anton or Joshua Martin.

  There was even a chance that my cousin Odette would come after me.

  But then I thought of the delight in GM's eyes when she'd realized that I wanted to go to Russia. She was really, truly happy to be going back. She wanted this trip, and now, so did I.

  I realized that I would have to be very, very careful in my quest to see William.

  I was happy to be going, I really was. But I had to wonder.

  What had I just done?

  Chapter 12.

  That night I sat on my bed, far too wound up to sleep.

  GM had purchased our plane tickets to Russia after dinner. We were going to leave as soon as my winter break started, and we were going to fly into Moscow before heading on to Krov.

  I had sat with GM in her office as she had purchased the tickets online, and she had chattered to me effusively both during and after the purchase. GM was excited about taking me around Moscow and showing me the sights, I knew, but there had been another light in her eyes that had made her appear feverish and overexcited.

  She was clearly happy—perhaps a little too happy.

  And so I was left to wonder if I had made the right decision. I would get a chance to look for William, but I was also taking GM with me into a potentially dangerous situation.

  And, of course, there was still the night to contend with. Though my vampire attackers had not materialized so far, I knew that they were still out there.

  So, GM and I would go to Ru
ssia—if I lived long enough.

  With that cheerful thought, I put out the light and slipped under my covers.

  I didn't have any plan to deal with intruders if they did come, but so far staying awake prepared to fight hadn't accomplished anything apart from leaving me exhausted in the morning. So I decided to try to sleep and trust to luck. I hoped that if I were attacked, I would be able to improvise—something.

  I closed my eyes and tried to clear my mind, but relaxation eluded me.

  I got up and crossed the dark room. I went to my window and pulled back the curtains. The street below was quiet, and the night seemed innocent. But I knew that there was more danger lurking in the night, and in the world, than most people dreamed of.

  There were greater mysteries in the world than most people imagined too.

  I thought of the man encased in ice, who had emerged from the cave and then vanished.

  I thought of Cormac, who had appeared out of nowhere and saved me from Anton.

  I wondered for a moment if I had imagined them both—but I knew the puzzle they presented wouldn't be solved that easily. I had been through too many strange things to truly doubt what I had seen.

  So what did the two of them want?

  I had never heard any tales of a man encased in ice. I wondered if he could be after me like Joshua Martin and Anton were. And what of Cormac? Could he be after me too?

  But Cormac had come in response to my call—the call that used to bring William to me. That didn't seem like the action of someone who meant to harm me.

  Would the call work if I tried it again? Would it bring Cormac to me if I used it?

  The idea took a hold of me very strongly, and I was decided to try it out. If I could see Cormac again—talk to him—maybe I could find out something about what was going on.

  I hesitated to call him in my room. His presence, should he appear, would be very difficult to explain to GM. So I decided to wait until GM went to bed and try to call him outside in the yard behind the house.

  That was the same place where I had called William to me for the very first time.

  My heart fluttered a little at the thought of him, and a tiny hope sprang up that this time William might appear instead of Cormac.