Dangerous Creatures (Book 3, Pure Series)

by Catherine Mesick

"I don't think so," William replied.

  "Why not?"

  "Because Sebastian tried to kill David. It wouldn't make any sense to drag his body back to that house if that's where Sebastian is hiding. Sebastian wanted to be rid of David."

  "That's true," I said. "But someone from the Neverov house has to come into it somehow—since David woke up there."

  "Not necessarily. David might have escaped from the police station on his own and then broken into the Neverov house. He said himself he didn't remember how he got there."

  "I suppose that's true, too," I said.

  William glanced at me. "You seem very concerned about the Neverovs."

  "Maybe I am. I don't know. It's just that—"

  "What?"

  "I thought I saw Maksim Neverov at the carnival on Sunday night."

  "Perhaps you did. He does have family here in Elspeth's Grove. Is there something about him that troubles you?"

  "I don't know," I said. My suspicions were really too half-formed for me to give voice to them. And as far as GM knew, he wasn't around—and she was one of the first people he would have contacted. I decided just to move on—Maksim was a minor point anyway.

  "What do you think about this tomb that David mentioned?" I asked. "Do you think that it has something to do with the Werdulac?"

  "As far as I know, the Werdulac's tomb still hasn't been found. It would be big news if it had been."

  "You did say it seemed like both the vampires and the hybrids were waiting for something."

  "I did say that."

  "Has there been—any movement on that front?"

  William shook his head. "The hybrids are still in hiding. And most vampires are still lying low."

  "Is there anything we can do to help David?"

  "I really don't know," William said. "I've never heard of anything like what's happened to him. What did he say about the stake again?"

  "He said Sebastian took it from someone who should have known better. Does that mean anything to you?"

  "No, it doesn't." William shook his head again. "I don't like this. I don't like any of this. But I am glad Sebastian is too cautious to do anything on his own. It gives me a better chance of keeping you safe."

  He glanced over at me. "Did you find out where your friend got the necklace from?"

  "No, I didn't," I said. "Today's events were a little unusual. I forgot to ask him."

  "Understandable," William said.

  "But I can ask you what you know about it," I said. "Don't you think it's about time you told me why you wanted it?"

  "Katie—"

  "I'm serious. I should know what's going on."

  William sighed. "All right. What I know really isn't much, though. I've seen a necklace just like it at Rusalka Castle."

  "At Rusalka?" I said, startled.

  "Yes. Do you remember it?"

  "The castle full of vampires in Russia? It would be hard for me to forget it."

  "Of course. Well, under the castle there are strong rooms full of—treasures—for lack of a better word. They call it the Vaults. There are ancient weapons and jewelry and all other sorts of artifacts. I saw an emerald necklace like the one I have now in the Vaults once. It dates all the way back to the Werdulac's era."

  "It what?" I said.

  "According to Anton, the necklace in the Vaults comes from the time of the Werdulac," William said. "I sent a photo of my necklace to him and told him that I thought I'd seen one like it there. He confirmed that the two pieces appear to be identical."

  "So what does that mean?" I asked.

  William shrugged. "So far as I know it doesn't mean anything. But it is very strange for a necklace like this to be in this part of the world, and even stranger for it to turn up at a high school carnival. You don't expect to find ancient Russian artifacts here in the suburbs."

  "Does it have any special properties?" I asked.

  "Not that I know of. The one in the Vaults has been there for ages, and it's never demonstrated that it's anything other than a necklace."

  "And now we have not one but two of them," I said. "I guess I'd better get as much information as I can from Simon."

  "And I'll have to go back to scouring the town," William said. "I'll search the Neverov house, too, just in case. There must be something I'm missing. Of course, I don't like the idea of leaving you unprotected at night while I search. Maybe I should finish the search early and then stand guard over your house."

  "We may both have something else to do," I said.

  "What do you mean?"

  I told William about Bryony's plan for contacting the ghost.

  "Would you like to come with me tonight?" I asked. "You might be able to sense something that Bryony and I can't."

  William thought for a moment. "I suppose it couldn't hurt. I doubt we'll actually find anything, but I don't really have any better ideas at the moment."

  "You really think it's that hopeless?" I said. "The ghost sent me a message once about the Werdulac. It was at least trying to help."

  "No—it's not hopeless. It's worth a try. It's just that ghosts can be—elusive."

  "That's what Bryony said," I replied. "She did say she couldn't promise anything."

  "Well, I'll go with you just the same," William said with a small smile. "What time are you heading over there?"

  We fixed up a time to meet that night, and then William walked me home. As I went into the house, I was stunned to find GM moving swiftly around the living room. I stood and watched as her feet skimmed the floor lightly, and she held out her arms as if she had an invisible partner.

  GM was dancing.

  She turned suddenly, and her dance came to an abrupt halt. She dropped her arms.

  "Katie! You're home early."

  I was actually home a little later than usual, but I decided not to mention it.

  "You look happy," I said.

  "Happy?" GM looked startled. "I can assure you that I am not happy. That is to say that I am quite happy—but no more so than usual. I was just thinking that maybe we could rearrange the furniture in here."

  "You were thinking about the furniture?" I said.

  "Yes," she replied. "Let's go into the kitchen. You look like you could use a snack."

  I let GM lead the way, and she got to work quickly, rattling plates and silverware. Soon she set a plate of cut-up fruit and peanut butter crackers in front of me.

  Then she sat down across from me and gave me a long look.

  "GM, did you want to talk about something?"

  She jumped up quickly. "You know, I believe you could use some milk."

  GM went to the refrigerator and returned a few moments later with a glass of milk for me.

  "Thanks," I said.

  GM resumed her seat and also resumed staring at me. After a moment she began to pepper me with questions.

  "You are doing well in school?"

  "Yes."

  "In all your classes?"

  "Yes."

  "Social Studies?"

  "Yes."

  "Are you getting along with your teachers?"

  "Yes. GM, you're making me feel uncomfortable. Is something bothering you?"

  She shifted uneasily. "I need to go out this evening. I hope you do not mind."

  "Of course I don't mind," I said.

  "It's just that I am so seldom gone in the evenings."

  "It's really fine," I said. I didn't mention that I would be going out myself.

  "I should be back before you go to bed."

  I was happy to hear that—it would be awkward if GM was coming back just when I wanted to sneak out. William and I had settled on 1:00 a.m., and I usually went to bed around ten, so it sounded like we would have plenty of time.

  "You truly do not mind?" GM asked.

  'No," I said. "I'm glad you're going out. I hope it's something fun."

  I waited to see if GM would give me any more details—I knew that she was unlikely to answer me if I asked any direct questions. But
as usual, she remained tight-lipped.

  "Good." GM rose. "That is settled then. I have to go upstairs now and—do a few things."

  "Okay," I said.

  She left the room, and I was left to wonder what she could possibly be up to.

  After dinner, GM left the house with a designer leather satchel whose round sides announced that it contained more than a few items. I wondered what she needed all the extra things for.

  After I'd watched her car disappear down the road, I went upstairs to take a nap—I didn't know how long our activities would take tonight, and I wanted to be clear-minded in case anything did happen.

  I woke up some time later, roused by the sounds of GM returning home, and as I sat up, I seemed to see stars before my eyes—both above and below me. As I looked around my dark room, the stars faded, and I thought I heard a whisper.

  I had a feeling that I was missing something, but I brushed it off and went downstairs. I was very curious about GM's evening.

  I found her in the kitchen, setting down her purse and satchel—and she looked oddly deflated.

  "Did you have a good time?" I asked.

  "Yes, yes, of course, Solnyshko."

  "Are you sure? You don't look so—"

  "So what?" GM said sharply.

  "I don't know," I said. "I just wanted you to have a good evening."

  "I did have a good evening."

  "Okay," I said. "I guess I'll go back to my room."

  "Good night, Katie."

  "Good night."

  I went upstairs and sat on my bed, but I didn't turn on the light. My eyes gradually grew accustomed to the dark, and I could see a white blur of a moon shining through a haze of clouds outside my window. GM seemed unhappy, and I wished I knew why. I wished, too, that I knew why she was so guarded—why she was unwilling to talk to me on any subject that touched her personally. Surely, whatever had happened tonight couldn't have been anything earth-shattering.

  So why would it be so horrible if I knew?

  I set my alarm for midnight and tried to sleep again. I did manage to drift off for a little while, but I slept lightly, and I woke up before the alarm went off.

  As I reached over to switch off the alarm, I heard GM come up to bed. A short time later, I went down the stairs quietly and slipped out of the house, locking the door behind me.

  I could see William waiting for me at the end of the driveway, and I went down to meet him.

  I glanced around. "No car? Are we walking over to see Bryony?"

  "I parked at the end of the street," William replied. "I didn't want to take the chance that I might wake your grandmother."

  A light drizzle began to fall as we walked to the car, and it was raining steadily by the time we reached Bryony's grandmother's house. The house was one I had seen many times—it was a white farmhouse situated not far from the Old Grove. I remembered that I'd wondered about the house last year when I had tracked Gleb Mstislav to the nearby cave where he'd been hiding. I'd speculated then that the white house might be home to Bryony's grandmother and her ghost, and it turned out that I had been right.

  "It's nice to have a little atmosphere for a séance," William said as we got out of the car.

  "I'm not sure this is actually a séance," I said.

  "I know," William replied. "I don't mean to be facetious. I'm just a little frustrated that my search earlier in the evening didn't turn up anything. And I made a point of checking out the Neverov house. I didn't find anything out of the ordinary there. We're running out of options."

  "And you don't have high hopes for this, either?" I said.

  William gave me a reassuring smile. "It can't to hurt to try."

  We knocked at the door, and Bryony answered quickly.

  She smiled when she saw us. "Come on in, guys."

  She did give William an uncertain glance as we passed her, but when I'd texted her to ask if he could come, she'd registered no objection.

  Bryony led us into a cheerful, tidy living room with lots of throw pillows and porcelain figurines. My foot clanked against a solid object, and I looked down to see an array of paint cans lined up neatly on a drop cloth next to a bookcase.

  "My grandmother's been doing some stenciling in here," Bryony said apologetically. "That's what the paint's for. And it's another reason why I know that she didn't just leave on her own. She didn't finish her work."

  She indicated a border of bright red cherries, green leaves, and pale-gold flowers that had been painted on the wall up near the ceiling—the border came to abrupt stop about halfway around the room.

  "Have a seat, guys," Bryony said.

  William and I sat down on a sofa, and I picked up the photo that sat on the end table next to me. In the photo, a middle-aged man and woman leaned their heads together and beamed at the camera.

  "Is this your grandmother?" I asked. Though I'd heard about Bryony's grandmother many times, I'd never actually met her.

  "Yes," Bryony said, sitting down in an easy chair across from us. "And that's my grandfather with her. But he died a long time ago, and I don't really remember him. My grandmother really misses him, though. She talks about him all the time."

  I thought then of GM and my own grandfather, whom I'd never really known, either. GM believed her husband to be dead, but I had discovered that as one of the Sìdh, my grandfather had a life expectancy that greatly exceeded that of any ordinary human being. It was very likely that my grandfather was still alive—though my grandmother could never know that. And even though he was still alive, my grandfather was gone for good. He had gone back to his people and would never again return to the mortal world.

  I set the photo down.

  Bryony busied herself arranging a few things on the coffee table between us, and I glanced around the quaint, cheerful room again—it seemed like the last place anyone would expect to find a ghost.

  "Thanks for doing this," Bryony said after a moment. "I didn't know if you guys would actually show up or not."

  "We're happy to be here," I said. "We're worried about your grandmother—and this town, too."

  "What do we need to do exactly?" William asked.

  "Well," Bryony said, "I looked up some information online about contacting ghosts, but I don't think much of it was very helpful." She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I talked to some people online, too. They seemed to be nice and sincere—but they didn't seem to know anything helpful either."

  She paused and looked at us uncertainly. "I've always liked those shows on TV—you know, the ones in which they investigate hauntings. So, I thought we could try doing some of the things they do on the shows."

  She reached for a book that was lying on the coffee table in front of us. "The first thing they do is research the property, so I did some research on this house. It turns out it's listed on the National Register of Historic Places."

  She flipped to a page in the book and handed it to me. I could see a photo of the house we were sitting in.

  "This house was originally owned by the Dobbs family," Bryony said, "and it's not far from the spot where Elspeth Quick's house used to stand. The ghost is reported to be Marie Dobbs, the daughter of the family. She was pretty young when she died, and she died right here in this house. It was the flu that killed her—apparently it was more dangerous to have that in those days."

  I handed the book to William, and Bryony continued.

  "Once the investigators know what they're looking for, they try to contact the spirit that resides in the house. I don't have access to some of the things they use, like the EMF detectors—that's a device that measures the electromagnetic field in the immediate area. An EMF fluctuation can indicate paranormal activity."

  William finished looking over the book and set it down.

  "But I do have these," Bryony said, pointing.

  On the coffee table were a recording device and two flashlights.

  She picked up the recording device. "We can use this to do an EVP session—that's elect
ronic voice phenomena. We ask questions and then review the recording later to see if the device picked up any responses to our questions that were inaudible to our ears."

  Bryony set the recording device down and pointed to the flashlights. "We can use these to try to prompt a response as well. We can designate one of the flashlight as 'yes' and the other one as 'no,' and then ask questions and wait for an answer."

  She looked up at us. "And that's about it. Unless you guys have some ideas."

  "No, that sounds good," I said. "All of this is new to me."

  "It's new to me, too," William said.

  "Okay, then," Bryony replied. "I guess we should get started."

  She stood. "I'm going to turn out the lights. They always do that. I guess it makes the spirits a little more comfortable."

  We were soon plunged into darkness, and stumbling a little, Bryony returned to her seat.

  William, I knew, could see perfectly well in the dark, and after a few moments, my eyes adjusted to the gloom.

  The darkness somehow made everything seem a little louder—I could hear the light patter of the rain outside, and from somewhere nearby a clock ticked steadily.

  "Since I know the most about this, I guess I should start," Bryony said softly. There was a click as she turned on the recording device.

  She cleared her throat and then spoke in a high, clear voice.

  "My name is Bryony Carson. I'm the granddaughter of Alice Carson. She's the one who lives in this house."

  Bryony paused as if to let her words sink in. After a moment, she went on.

  "I heard there was someone else who used to live in this house—a family, in fact. I heard they had a daughter named Marie Dobbs. I've also heard that Marie is still here."

  Bryony paused. "Is that true? Is Marie still here? If you are here, Marie, just speak into this device. The device will catch your voice, even if you speak quietly."

  She paused again, and then went on.

  "I heard that Marie had a good friend a long time ago—a friend named Elspeth Quick. The woman who lives here, Alice, has said that she's been contacted by Marie Dobbs, and that she is her friend, too. Is that true, Marie? Are you Alice's friend?"

  Bryony stopped once more to allow for a response.

  "If you are Alice's friend, Marie, can you help us? Alice went missing from this house. We're afraid she's in danger. Can you tell us what you saw the night Alice went missing?"