Dangerous Creatures (Book 3, Pure Series) (26 page)

              He lunged toward me once again, and then moved on.

              The blazing red eyes continued to move around the perimeter of the stones, and I felt compelled to watch them. The eyes would appear in the darkness and then disappear as they moved behind the solid mass of a stone, only to reappear on the other side. The eyes moved on and on through the night, lunging for me, then subsiding.

              Then lunging for me again.

              The red eyes eventually came to a stop between two stones across the ring from me, and I heard a soft chuckle.

              "What have we here?" Emmanuel said. "I believe I've found the weak spot. Stay right where you are. I'll be with you in a moment."

              I could see the burning red eyes move a step toward me, and then Emmanuel reached out with one hand.

              His hand passed between the two stones with no resistance, and his red eyes stared into mine.

              "Now, my pretty little bird, there is nowhere for you to fly."

              Emmanuel took a step forward into the stone ring, and panic surged through me. I turned to run, but he was beside me in an instant, and I felt the icy bite of his fingers as his hand closed around my neck once again.

              I clawed at his hand, but I was trapped.

              He began to drag me back toward the stones, but just as we reached the weak spot in the circle, I felt Emmanuel's body twitch, and I heard him cry out. His hand dropped suddenly from my throat, and he looked down at his shoulder.

              I could see a black metal hook protruding out through his coat.

              Emmanuel's body gave another twitch, and he took an involuntary step backward away from me. Then he fell to the ground and began to slide back toward the stone ring.

              As I watched, he disappeared into the darkness between two of the stones.

              "Katie!" cried a hoarse voice from somewhere close by. "Katie!"

              "Anton!" I could just make out the dark mass of his body lying on the ground.

              I left the stone circle and ran toward him.

              "Anton, are you all right?" I asked. I kneeled beside him, and I could see a metal disc wedged deeply between his shoulder and his collarbone. There was also a strong scent of charred flesh.

              "Help me get to the car," he said quickly. "We have to get out of here. Now."

              I helped Anton to stand. As I did so, I heard a strangled cry not far away. By the light of the moon I could see Emmanuel lying on the ground and a man's massive shape looming over him. As I watched, the larger man raised the hook that had been in Emmanuel's shoulder and brought it down with tremendous force. Even in the dim light, I had a sense of the great power of the larger man.

              "What's going on?" I asked.

              "Car. Now!" Anton barked.

              Anton and I hurried to the car as fast as we could, and I scarcely had time to get in and close the door before he floored the accelerator. Within moments we were racing back toward the nearest road.

              "Who was that?" I asked. "Who was that man with Emmanuel?"

              "It's no one you want to meet."

              "But he just saved my life."

              "No, he didn't," Anton said. "That was the Hunter."

Chapter 19.

We raced on through the night, and I glanced over at Anton.

              "You're sure that was the Hunter?"

              "Positive."

              "How do you know?" I asked. "You said you'd never seen him before. Could you sense him?"

              "No. I couldn't sense anything at all. I think he has the necklace from the British Museum."

              "Why would the Hunter want—"

              "Trust me—I know it was him," Anton said. "Didn't that look like the Hunter to you?"

              I thought back to the imposing man I had seen standing over Emmanuel's prone form—he had given off a palpable aura of power.

              "Yes, it did," I said.

              "Besides, only the Hunter would have a motive to help you," Anton said. "He only did it because he wanted you himself."

              I took a deep breath. "So where are we going?"

              "Back to the airport."

              "The airport?" I said. "But we just came from there."

              Anton shot a glance at the rearview mirror. "Well, clearly, the stone circle of Stonehenge is no longer a safe place. Our only hope is to get to the airport and get on our flight before the Hunter catches us."

              "How did he find us?" I asked.

              "Which one? The Hunter or Emmanuel?"

              "Either one," I said.

              "I'd like to know that myself," Anton replied. "But at least we know Emmanuel won't be bothering us any longer."

              He shifted in his seat, and I could see the edge of the metal disc that had lodged itself in his shoulder poking out of his jacket. The cloth around the disc had been burned black.

              "Are you okay?" I asked.

              "I'll be fine," Anton said.

              We continued to drive at impossible speeds, and far sooner than I would have thought possible, the bright lights of Heathrow loomed ahead of us. Anton drove directly to our terminal and drew up to the curb. Instead of springing out of the car as I had expected him to do, he began to claw at his shoulder. A moment later he wrenched the disc out and threw it into the backseat.

              "Can't go through the metal detector with that," Anton said.

              We got out of the car and began to walk toward the terminal.

              "You can't do that, sir." A man in a uniform from one of the airlines threw a disapproving glance over at the parked car. "If you leave the car there it'll be towed."

              Anton shrugged. "It's not my car."

              We went inside and found the terminal swarming with police—but luckily, no one seemed to be looking for us. I supposed that since Anton and I had left the airport in such a rush—with Emmanuel on our trail—that no one had expected us to come back. Or perhaps we'd been moving so quickly that no one had actually seen us in the first place.

              Whatever the reason, Anton and I were able to make our way through the terminal to our gate without anyone stopping us.

              "Try not to look so nervous," Anton said as we sat down to wait. "If the police weren't looking for us, they might start if they catch sight of that extremely suspicious look on your face. You look like you just robbed a bank and expect to get caught. We didn't do anything wrong, remember?"

              "I know," I said. "It's just that I'm wondering if there's footage of us on the security cameras. We must have been seen going into the ladies' room—and then all the trouble started from there. The police will want to talk to us."

              "And there's nothing we can tell them that they'll believe," Anton replied. "Trust me. In a case like this, our talking to the police won't do anyone any good. All it will do is get us barred from our flight and possibly locked up for being insane."

              "I guess you're right," I said.

              "I know I'm right," Anton said. "I know you'd like to do what you think is the right thing, but it's just not possible this time."

              He glanced up at the monitor overhead. "And it looks like the delay has just been lifted. We should be boarding soon."

              Sure enough, a few moments later, an announcement came on over the loudspeaker that our flight would begin boarding momentarily. Our fellow travelers expressed their relief.

              "It's not just the police," I said, casting a glance over the crowd. "I can't help but think that the Hunter is going to show up at any moment."

              Anton leaned back in his chair. "I think we're safe now that we're back at the airport. I don't think the Hunter will risk attacking us here."

              "That's what you said about Emmanuel," I said.

              "I know. But that was really a stealth attack that went wrong. I don't think he ever intended to attack us openly."

              "Then why did he have the crossbow?" I asked. "That seems like a pretty open way to attack someone."

              "That was more for insurance," Anton said. "He brought it with him just in case something went wrong and he needed it. And as it turned out, thanks to me, he did need it. Trust me—this time, we're fine. We're getting on that plane."

              We waited for what seemed like an eternity—but was in reality only a few more minutes—and then boarding for our flight was announced. I was deeply relieved as Anton and I finally rose from our seats and walked down the tunnel that led into the body of the airplane.

              We found our seats, and I kept a close eye on both the window and on all of the passengers as they came into the plane—I expected to see the Hunter's massive form appear at any moment.

              But the Hunter did not show up, and at long last, the plane door was closed, the announcements were made, and our plane began to taxi down the runway.

              "We made it," Anton said. "What did I tell you?"

              "I can't believe we got so lucky," I said.

              "I'm not so sure we did get lucky."

              "What do you mean?"

              "I think maybe the Hunter is a little smarter than Emmanuel," Anton replied. "As I've said all along, Russia will be the hard part."

              "Do you think he'll attack us when we land?"

              Anton shook his head. "Even the Hunter can't get ahead of an airplane. No, we've genuinely got a head start on him. So you should enjoy these next few hours while we're in the air. You can breathe easy and rest right now. And try not to think too much about what's up ahead. There's no way we can plan for it anyway."

              "It's going to be bad, isn't it?" I said.

              "Worse. But we've got a secret weapon."

              "What's that?"

              "Me."

              "You're cavalier all of a sudden," I said.

              "There's no point in worrying right now. All we can do is wait."

              I did try to relax as Anton had suggested, and I actually managed to get a little sleep. But I kept starting awake—and my dreams were no long full of stars. Now they were filled with frantic chases, creatures with blazing red eyes, and a looming, powerful man that I knew was the Hunter.

              My dreams were my own again. But they were no better for it.

              Eventually, the plane touched down in Moscow on a bright, sunny morning, and the sky outside the airport betrayed no signs of the violent storm that had recently passed.

              We collected our luggage, and we went through customs—with Anton successfully smoothing over the visa issue once again. Then we were free to enter the city.

              "I suggest you have breakfast while we drive," Anton said. "We have a head start on the Hunter, and we don't want to waste it."

              I got my breakfast in a brown paper bag, and then Anton and I went to pick up our rental car. I scarcely had time to close my door before Anton took off.

              "Could we go a little slower for the first few miles?" I asked. "It's hard to drink orange juice at a hundred miles an hour."

              "We'll run into traffic soon enough," Anton said. "You can drink your orange juice then."

              We drove through the outskirts of the city, which I was slightly familiar with—I had been to Moscow last year with GM—and we did indeed run into traffic. As I sipped my juice and stared out the window, I was struck once again by the contrasting sides of Moscow—it was at once a city of solid strength—and a city of dreams.

              It seemed a city in which just about anything was possible—and it was also the city in which I had first learned about the Werdulac.

              As I finished my breakfast, we continued on past the city, and eventually we were out into the suburbs on the other side. As we continued to drive, I felt my eyelids growing heavy, and eventually, I fell into a deep sleep that was blissfully free of dreams.

              Perhaps the influence of the sunny morning had been enough to drive the shadows from my subconscious mind.

              I awoke several hours later to find that Anton and I had made our way out into the countryside. I felt recharged and refreshed, and I sat up in my seat—I was just in time to see a quiet farmhouse with a small herd of cattle off in the distance.

              "How are you feeling?" Anton asked.

              "Pretty good," I replied. I glanced at the torn, singed spot on Anton's shoulder. "How are you?"

              "I'm fine," Anton said. "We heal fast. You know that."

              "Yes," I said. "But I also know that even vampires need to rest in order to heal properly. You haven't stopped going for a while now."

              "I'll rest once we get you to your house in Krov."

              I doubted very much that Anton would be able to rest then, but I decided not to argue the point—he seemed to have made up his mind.

              Eventually, we came upon a small town, and Anton pulled into a gas station to refuel.

              "It's not the healthiest option, I know," Anton said, nodding his head in the direction of the gas station's convenience store, "but you really should go in there and get yourself some lunch."

              "I'm not really hungry," I said.

              "You should eat anyway," Anton replied. "We've got several more hours till we reach Krov, and you need to keep your strength up. We don't know what we'll find there, and you need to be as rested and prepared as possible."

              I went into the little store and found myself a sandwich, an apple, and a drink. Luckily, I spoke Russian well, and Anton and I had supplied ourselves with rubles back at the airport, so my transaction proceeded smoothly.

              Then I got back in the car, and we were off once again, speeding along as though Anton could actually see the Hunter in the rearview mirror.

              Sometime after lunch, I fell asleep once again, and the sun was just beginning to set as I woke up.

              "We're nearly there," Anton said.

              I sat up and looked out the window. I watched the landscape rolling by for a few minutes, and I realized that it was starting to look familiar.

              We were indeed close to Krov, and I felt an involuntary shudder run through me as I remembered that
krov
was the Russian word for blood.

              There were dark things in Krov—dangerous things. And to a large extent the town lived up to its name. But Krov was also the town I'd been born in, and the town my mother and her mother had been born in. In a way it was my home, and I knew from experience that it wasn't all darkness. There was a lot that was beautiful about Krov.

              Eventually, we reached the outskirts of town, and as we drove through the now-familiar streets, I couldn't help but feel hope rising within me. After I had left Krov when I was only five years old, I had never expected to see the town—or my childhood home—again. But last year, I had returned to Krov twice, and now that I was returning for a third time, I realized that I was excited to see my old house once again.

              It was the place where my family had been whole.

              Anton drove through the town until we reached a quiet street that I knew had only two working streetlights. We pulled up in front of my old house, and I got out of the car and stood looking up at it.

              It was a house with roses and an apple tree—a house that I had once thought I would only see again in my memories. Of course, the house didn't actually belong to me or to my grandmother, so technically it wasn't mine. The house actually belonged to my cousin, Odette.

              Odette, however, had become a vampire, and last year, she had led me into a trap that would have resulted in my death. But at the last moment, she had changed her mind and had actually helped me to escape. Since then, I had seen her exactly one time, and as far as the people in the town were concerned, Odette was missing and presumed dead—no one had seen her since the night of the Mstislav ball last year.