Dangerous Creatures (Book 3, Pure Series) (21 page)

              I held the mirror up as casually as I could and glanced at my reflection. My hair was covered with a fine layer of gray dust, and my face was covered with dirt. There was a cut over my eye and on my chin, and as I looked down at my clothes, I could see that they were dirty and torn.

              I realized that I must have been quite a sight back at the diner.

              I thought about slipping off to the ladies' room to try to clean up a little, but the tone that had been in Anton's voice gave me pause. The note of warning had been genuine.

              I was better off waiting for Anton's return, no matter how awkward I felt.

              I glanced into the mirror again. For just a moment, I thought I saw a light flicker in its depths. Then it was gone.

              I glanced around the bar then, half-expecting to see a glowing, golden light appear—followed by a man stepping out of it. I had been in a situation a little bit like this before. Anton had come after me—tried to kidnap me—and one of the Sìdh had appeared out of nowhere—simply materialized out of the air. His name was Cormac, and he had come to rescue me from Anton.

              If Cormac were considering stepping in once again, I really wouldn't mind. I could go back to GM—and start looking for William.

              I looked into the mirror again, tilting it from side to side. But no matter how I turned the mirror, I couldn't get the light I'd glimpsed to come back. Eventually I was forced to give up—the bar was full of glass and reflective surfaces, and I had to assume that I'd probably just seen a brief flash from one of those sources.

              I put the mirror away.

              A waitress with a sympathetic smile had just brought me a soda when Anton reappeared. He dropped my backpack down on the table in front of me, and it landed heavily.

              I looked up at him. "So what happened?"

              "I got your backpack," Anton said.

              "You didn't go running out of here like that just because of my backpack," I said.

              "I also got you a room."

              "It was Emmanuel, wasn't it?" I said.

              Anton looked at me for a moment. "I suppose there's no real harm in telling you," he said. "Yes, it was Emmanuel."

              "What did he want?" I asked.

              "He wanted you, of course. Somehow, whatever we'd been doing earlier in the evening seemed to have thrown him off. His path was erratic and confused, and then suddenly, he seemed to know where to go. He was headed right for us. But Peter and I—Peter's the guy on the phone—managed to head Emmanuel off and take care of him."

              "Take care of him how?"

              "At the moment, Emmanuel is stranded at the bottom of an elevator shaft—with the elevator on top of him."

              "Oh," I said.

              "Come on," Anton said. "It's time you got some sleep."

              I followed Anton out of the bar and into the hotel lobby. We took the elevator to the fifth floor, and Anton gave me the card to my room.

              "I'll be right back with your suitcase," he said, and he turned and vanished.

              I continued on to the room and went in. The room was quiet and dark, and I stood for just a moment, staring into the blackness at the far end of the room. I was reminded forcefully of the darkness of the cave, and a flash of panic ran through me. I fumbled quickly for the light switch on the wall, and then I turned on all the other lights in the room, including the one in the bathroom.

              Then I sat down on the bed.

              Before long, there was a knock on the door, and I looked out through the peephole to see Anton. I let him in, and he set my suitcase down. Then he glanced around the room.

              "Like lights much?" he said.

              I sat down again. "It was just too dark in here."

              Anton looked at me sharply. "Are you all right?"

              "Of course," I said.

              Anton leaned against the dresser that sat across from the bed and gave me a steady stare.

              "It's been a long time, you know," he said. "Since I was tired, or worried, or trapped in the dark. I only have vague memories of what it felt like to be human—and vulnerable. All of this must have been hard for you tonight."

              "I'm okay," I said.

              "You should get some sleep," Anton replied. "And try not to worry. I'll be looking out for you. You'll be safe in here. And I'll be sure that you're up in time for our flight."

              "Thanks," I said.

              Anton pushed away from the dresser and brushed his hand over my hair. His hand lingered in the air, and for just a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me.

              Instead, he dropped his hand and moved toward the door.

              "Good night, Katie," he said. Then he left the room.

              And despite everything I had been through that night, and despite how sore I was, I did drop off to sleep quickly.

              But I kept the lights on.

              It seemed like no time at all before there was a knock on the door, and I started awake.

              I sat up quickly and looked around, blinking. For just a moment, I wasn't sure where I was—and then the events of the night came flooding back to me. I felt a terrible sinking sensation as I realized that I was about to leave Elspeth's Grove. And I would be leaving GM behind.

              I was glad she was safe, but I also knew that she would be frantic with worry over me. I knew that if she had to choose, GM would rather face danger herself than have it be me.

              There was another knock on the door, and I got out of bed quickly. I hurried to the door, and even though I was pretty sure it was Anton who had knocked, I checked the peephole just to be sure.

              Anton was indeed standing on the other side of the door, and as I looked out, I saw him raise his hand to knock again.

              I opened the door quickly, and Anton's hand was still poised in the air as I did so.

              "That was pretty good," he said. "It's been a long time since anyone human surprised me. I guess I wasn't paying attention."

              I stood back to let him enter, and as he walked in, he glanced around the room.

              "Well, at least you don't need to pack," Anton said. "Because it looks like you never actually unpacked last night."

              He glanced at me. "And it looks like you slept in your clothes."

              "I did," I said. "I actually need some time to take a shower."

              "Luckily for you," Anton said, "I am a consummate planner, and I have left us plenty of time. Can you meet me downstairs in the lobby in twenty minutes?"

              "I can do that," I said.

              "Great." Anton walked past me toward the door.

              "Anton, wait," I said. "Can't we stop in and see GM? Can't I just let her know that I'm okay before we leave?"

              "I'm afraid not," Anton replied. "It's really safer for her if we don't. Emmanuel works off of patterns, as I said. Right now, she doesn't know anything, so she isn't part of the pattern herself. And right now, you are avoiding her—which is actually the opposite of what you would usually do. So you aren't bringing her into the pattern, either. As soon as you go to see her, you bring her into the whole thing. You can't do that. I'm sorry."

              Anton turned toward the door, and then stopped abruptly and turned back.

              "You know what?" he said. "You'd better promise me you won't call her, either. You were probably too tired last night to think of it."

              "You want me to just promise you?" I asked.

              "Yes."

              "You think that will be enough?" I said. "You're not going to take my phone away from me or anything?"

              "No, of course not," Anton said. "I know if you promise me something, you'll do it. So promise me you won't call your grandmother."

              "Anton—"

              "It's for her own good. If she doesn't know where you are, Emmanuel won't harm her."

              "All right," I said. "I promise."

              "Thank you," Anton said. He left the room.

              I went to my backpack then and got out my cell phone. I stared for a long moment at GM's number, and then I put the phone away.

              Anton was right—I wouldn't go back on my word once I had given it. And I couldn't put GM in jeopardy—especially not if my silence would keep her safe.

              Besides, Anton trusted me—and I wondered how long it had been since he had trusted anyone.

              I showered quickly, and it felt good to rinse all of the dust from the cave off me. I saw that I had quite a few cuts and bruises, but I didn't really have time to tend to any of those. As I looked at my face in the mirror after my shower, I examined the cuts on my chin and forehead and decided they didn't look too bad.

              On the whole, I was looking much more presentable than I had the night before.

              I went downstairs and met Anton in the lobby, and he handed me a brown paper bag.

              "What's this?" I asked.

              "Orange juice, a muffin, and some kind of egg sandwich," Anton replied. "Basically, it's breakfast. I hope there isn't anything you're allergic to in there."

              "Oh, thanks," I said.

              "Unfortunately, you're going to have to eat in the car." Anton picked up my suitcase and moved toward the door. "I've allowed time, but we really should be moving. The sooner we're up in the air, the sooner you're safe from Emmanuel. Not even he can break into a plane in mid-air."

              I followed Anton out to the car, and soon we were speeding through the streets. In a short time, we would be out of Elspeth's Grove, and I would be leaving GM and my home behind.

              And I had no idea when I would be seeing them again.

              "Is there any chance we need to stop at a gas station?" I asked hopefully. I didn't have anything in mind—I just wanted to delay the inevitable.

              Anton glanced over at me as he drove. "Sorry. I took care of that before I picked you up. We're good to go all the way to the airport—we don't want to take any chances on the open road. Vampire are stealth hunters, after all. The more people that are around—like on a busy highway, or at an airport—the safer you are."

              "Good thinking," I said.

              As we left the town limits, I couldn't help turning around in my seat and watching the town as we sped away from it.

              I sat, staring out the back window, until my town and my home disappeared completely.

Chapter 16.

"So what's our plan exactly?" I asked.

              I asked the question quickly. I felt tears stinging my eyes, and I wanted to take my mind off what I was leaving behind.

              Anton glanced at me as I tried to blot at my eyes nonchalantly.

              "We're going to the airport," he said, "and we're going to take a normal commercial flight. We have a stopover in London—which lasts about fourteen hours—and then we'll go on to Moscow. It's a little more leisurely than I would like, but it's a pretty normal way for humans to travel. So I think it's the safest way."

              "This will keep Emmanuel away from us?"

              "It should," Anton said. "It's a course of action I wouldn't normally take. Any time we alter the pattern, we make it more difficult for Emmanuel to find us."

              "You said he appeared to be confused last night," I said.

              "Yes, that's what Peter told me."

              "And then he appeared to hone in on us."

              "Yes."

              "So, what confused him?" I asked. "What made the difference?"

              Anton smiled. "It's funny you should ask that. I've been thinking about it myself."

              "And?"

              "And I have a theory," Anton said. "It wasn't anything I expected, but so far it explains things pretty well. That doesn't mean it will always work—in fact, I have a terrible feeling that Emmanuel's going to adjust eventually. But for right now, we have to go with what works."

              "What's the theory?" I asked.

              "The difference is you."

              "How can I be making a difference?" I asked.

              Anton smiled again. "I'm not entirely sure I should admit this, but every time I go against my instincts, things work out—so here goes. When I said the difference is you, what I really meant is this: the difference is the effect you have on me."

              "The effect I have on you?" I said.

              "Since I saw you again, at your grandmother's house," Anton said, "I haven't quite been myself. I've been doing things I wouldn't ordinarily do. Like looking for your grandmother. Or thinking about whether you were hurt or frightened or needed to rest. In other words, I've been thinking about someone other than myself."

              "And that's what threw Emmanuel off?" I asked.

              "That's what threw him off," Anton replied. "Most of the things I did last night were completely out of character for me." He glanced at me. "Don't get a swelled head over it or anything."

              "So what caused the change last night when he could suddenly find us again?" I asked. "Do you think he adjusted like you just mentioned?"

              "Well," Anton said, "it occurred to me that Emmanuel zeroed in on us again after I caught the ghost girl. Hassling her was exactly like me. So, I suppose I should have just let her go on following us, and then Emmanuel would have stayed away. As far as his adjusting goes, I don't think that's possible yet. What I'm doing is so new that even I don't know what I'm going to do next—so there's no way he can know. And he can't follow your patterns since you don't know what I'm going to do next, either."

              "That's true enough," I said.

              "Take this trip to the airport, for example," Anton said. "Yesterday, I originally planned to go to your house, get you, and then take you straight to a private airfield where you would board a plane and fly to Russia. Once we arrived, I was going to stash you in the airplane's bathroom and hope no one insisted on searching the plane. Then I would sneak you out in a trunk or something, and you could get out once we got past customs. Of course, if anything had gone wrong at any point, I was just going to schmooze the local officials with my incredible charm."

              "You were going to hide me in the bathroom?" I said.

              "Yes."

              "And then in a trunk?" I said.

              "Yes. See how upset you are about all this?" Anton said. "That was exactly my usual pattern. And that's what drew Emmanuel to the private plane I'd chartered last night. Incidentally, that's what the first phone call was about last night. Peter called me to let me know that Emmanuel had gotten to the plane ahead of us. And he'd sabotaged it—wrecked the engine or something so it couldn't take off. He'd seen what the plan was ahead of time and would have been waiting there for us."

              "But we were delayed because we went to rescue my grandmother," I said.

              "Exactly. So we ended up not running into him. Ordinarily, I would have just chartered another plane at another airfield, but then I started thinking about you. And I decided that a regular commercial flight would be more comfortable for you. And I even picked one with a stopover so you wouldn't have to sit on the plane all that time—the flight would be broken up. And mind you, that wasn't an easy decision to make considering the time constraints we're under. The calendar is not our friend."

              I glanced at Anton sharply. "What do you mean by that? You said the stopover would help us avoid Emmanuel. What kind of time constraints are we under?"

              Anton shifted a little in his seat. "I just meant that we need to get you to your old house in Krov as soon as possible. The protective charm on that house is the best safeguard we have for you."

              "Are you sure that's what you meant?" I said. "Because it sounded like you were thinking of something specific."

              "Of course," Anton replied. "What else could it mean?"

              "A question for a question," I said.

              "Okay," Anton said. "Since we're on the topic of questions, then let me ask you one—have I steered you the wrong way yet?"

              "You're saying I just have to trust you?"

              He smiled. "Scary, isn't it?"

              "So where is Emmanuel right now?" I asked.

              "Unfortunately, I don't know," Anton said. "I do know one place he isn't, and that's at the bottom of the elevator shaft where Peter and I left him. Peter was watching the site, but somehow Emmanuel got past him. That does seem to be one of his talents—eluding people. I guess it's because he tends to know which way you'll be looking before you do."

              "He won't meet us at the airport, will he?" I asked.

              "No. Like I said, he'll avoid crowded places like airports. Vampires are creatures of loneliness and the night for a reason—we're stronger that way. A group of you in the daylight, when we're weaker, could easily overwhelm and destroy one of us. And it's hard to turn on the old persuasive charm when you're being attacked by a mob."

              "What about Sebastian?" I asked.

              Anton made a dismissive sound. "He lit out of town last night. We won't be seeing him again."

              "And the Hunter?" I said.

              "The Hunter I don't know about," Anton replied. "That's why we have to get you to safety as soon as possible—the stopover notwithstanding. The Hunter's more powerful than any vampire I've ever been unlucky enough to tangle with, and unfortunately, I don't know much about the way he hunts, or even what he looks like. Although I do have a terrible feeling that I'll recognize him when I meet him."

              "
When
you meet him," I said. "You're planning on doing that?"

              "I have to. You'll be safe in your house, but that won't stop the Hunter from trying to attack it. And the charm on the house won't differentiate between a vampire like him, who's trying to harm you, and a vampire like me, who's trying to help you. We'll all be trapped outside together, and as our unlucky stars would have it, the Hunter will be the most powerful among us. For all I know, his power might even be enough to break through the charm eventually. The older the vampire, the more powerful he is—and the Hunter is very old indeed. He will attack, and we will have to attempt to destroy him. We can't let him get to you."

              "How are you planning on fighting him?" I asked.

              "Well, there are a number of theories," Anton said. "The stories say that in ancient days the Sìdh defeated the Werdulac and his army by calling down the stars on them."

              "The stars?" I said, surprised.

              Anton looked over at me. "Do you know something about that?"

              "Not exactly," I said. "It's just that I've been having a recurring dream of being surrounded by stars—and there seems to be water nearby. And there's a stone slab, too, and some white cloth."

              "A stone slab?" Anton said.

              "Yes," I said. "A dream probably doesn't sound very helpful, but I think the Sìdh may be trying to send me a message. They've done that before. And I've been seeing lights flickering in mirrors—lights that can't always be explained away."

              I reached for the mirror that was always in the pocket of my jeans now. "Here. Maybe I can show you."

              Anton put up a hand. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'll take your word for it. I have no desire to look into a mirror."

              "So it's true, then?" I said. "Vampires don't like mirrors?"

              "Vampires don't like mirrors," Anton said.

              "Is it because you're invisible in them?" I asked, although I already knew the answer.

              "No, of course not," Anton said. "Anything with substance can be seen in a mirror. All that stuff about our lack of souls making us invisible is ridiculous. A wall or table doesn't have a soul, either, but you can certainly see both of those in a mirror. But this is beside the point. I was talking of stars."

              "You were talking of stars," I said.

              "So, the Sìdh supposedly defeated the Werdulac and his followers with stars. Some think the Sìdh somehow managed to call down meteors on the Werdulac—which I think is unlikely given the lack of craters at the locations where the battles are supposed to have taken place."

              "That's a good point," I said. "And it's also possible that a meteor would be hard to control. You might hit your own people in addition to the enemy's."

              "Very true," Anton said. "So I think we're safe in ruling meteors out. The other major theory is that the Sìdh used the famous vampire swords, so-called because they reportedly drink the blood of their enemies and grow stronger."

              "Vampire swords?" I said. "Like Ignis Sacer? Like the sword William's been looking for?"

              "Yes," Anton said. "Except these swords aren't imaginary. William, as I told you, is delusional—he believes in a fraudulent prophecy made by an old charlatan. However, there is a real group of vampire swords, many of which are named after stars. The most famous of them is kept in the Vaults at Rusalka—it's known as the Star of Morning."

              "That's good, then, isn't it?" I said. "If you actually do have a vampire sword? I'm assuming that a vampire sword can be used on a vampire."

              "According to legend," Anton said, "vampire swords are of Sìdh origin, and they have special powers that make them extra effective against vampires. Sort of like a good, old-fashioned stake to the heart in a folktale. One blow from one of these blades is supposed to be enough to kill a vampire—if used the right way. But I've seen the swords used in combat situations before, and they're no more effective against vampires than an ordinary sword. I think their only real value lies in their historical significance—they are very, very old."

              "So you don't believe a vampire sword will work on the Hunter, either," I said.

              "No, I don't. He's such an ancient vampire that I'm not even sure a sword would mark his skin. I am sure it wouldn't kill him."

              "Is there a third option?" I asked. "If it's not meteors or vampire swords, is there something else?"

              "No," Anton said.

              "Then what are we going to do?" I asked.

              "You'll hide in the house," Anton said. "And the Hunter will do his best to attack it. And then we'll do our best to stop him. But I'm fairly certain he can kill all of us—all of us vampires, that is. I think we're doomed. But then again, we always were."

              "You can't believe that," I said.

              "I do believe it."

              "I don't want any of you to die for me."

              Anton gave me a serious look. "None of this is your fault. You didn't ask to be the Little Sun. And you certainly didn't ask to be hunted because of it. And you can't help what we are. If the creatures of darkness can't get along, you aren't to blame. Look on the bright side—maybe we'll end up killing each other—all of us Russian vampires and the Hunter. Maybe we'll be enough for him together. Maybe it's a good way for us all to go out."