Dangerous Creatures (Book 3, Pure Series) (8 page)

              "Did you see Alice the night she disappeared?"

              "Is Alice your friend? All you have to do is light up a flashlight to answer us. Left for no. Right for yes."

              Eventually, Bryony sat back in her chair in frustration.

              "Marie, can't you give us just one sign? Let us know you're here?"

              There was a loud slamming sound from upstairs, and I looked around, startled.

              "What was that?"

              "That was nothing," Bryony said gloomily. "There's an old window upstairs that does that all the time."

              She stood and turned on the lights, and the slamming sound came again.

              "I guess we'd better go and check it out just in case."

              The three of us went upstairs, and in one of the bedrooms we found an old-fashioned window that swung open and closed on a hinge. It was standing open.

              I went over to the window and pulled it closed and then fastened it. As I did so, I noticed that the rain had slowed to a light drizzle and the wind had died down.

              "That window always does that whenever there's any wind," Bryony said.

              "I didn't notice any wind when I closed it just now."

              Bryony shrugged. "It really doesn't matter. Rain will make it do that, too. I don't think anything is going to happen tonight. I don't understand—the flashlight thing always works on TV. I just hope we got something in the EVP session. But I'm starting to doubt that now."

              "Your grandmother did give me a message once," I said. "You said the ghost wanted to help me. I'm sure she wants to help your grandmother, too. Where did she get that message?"

              "That was in her little library," Bryony replied. "That's where she keeps her collection of newspapers. That's how the ghost—Marie, I should say—made contact. She riffled through the pages."

              "Maybe we could try in there," I said.

              Bryony agreed, and we took the recording device and the flashlights into the library. She tried her questions again—first with the recording device and then with the flashlights—but she received no response. Bryony tried a session with the lights on, also, asking Marie to give us a sign using the newspapers, but through all the questions, their pages remained unruffled.

              Finally, Bryony tried one last session with the lights off—this time asking Marie to communicate making knocking sounds—once for 'no,' twice for 'yes.'

              She ran through her questions again, but there was no response.

              In frustration, she asked one last question. "Is there a ghostly presence here at all?"

              There was a heavy slamming sound from upstairs, and Bryony sighed.

              "That's just the window again."

              William stood up quickly. His eyes were fixed on the floor above us.

              "Katie, Bryony," he said in a low, level voice, "the two of you need to get out of here now."

              I stood up. "What's wrong?"

              William pulled Bryony to her feet. "Both of you, get out of here. Now."

              "It's not a ghost," Bryony said.

              "I know it isn't," William said sharply. "Go! I'll deal with this."

              I took Bryony by the hand. "Come on. We'd better leave."

              "What? Why?"

              "Come on," I said.

              William pushed us out into the hall, and we hurried toward the door.

              Something rushed down the stairs past us, and suddenly all the lights in the house blazed to life. A strong wind kicked up and whirled around us in a circle, and books, papers, and pillows began to fly around us. Figurines flew off shelves and smashed into walls, and I heard a window shatter.

              The wind continued to whirl around us until the three of us were forced to the floor. And then, as quickly as it had appeared, the whirlwind vanished. I heard the window upstairs slam shut once more.

              Bryony got to her feet, pale and trembling. "What was that?"

              William stood and glanced around the room. His eyes rested on the far wall.

              "I think you got your message."

              The wall was bare except for four words that had been scrawled across its surface in red paint.

              THE HUNTER IS COMING.

Chapter 6.

Bryony had driven over herself, but under the circumstances, she wasn't really up to driving. So William and I drove her home.

              She sat quietly in the front seat with William, but it was clear she was deeply rattled. I was shaken myself, and even William gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove.

              We reached Bryony's house, and I touched her on the shoulder.

              "Are you going to be okay?"

              "Yes," she said quickly. "I'll be fine." She glanced from me to William and then back to me again. "You're sure that wasn't a ghost?"

              "One hundred percent sure," William said gently.

              "So was it a prank?"

              "No, it definitely wasn't a prank," William said. "I think someone wants to get our attention but remain hidden himself."

              "What did the message mean?" Bryony asked. "Who is the Hunter?"

              "I don't know," William said. "But I'll find out."

              Bryony sighed. "Maybe this was a bad idea."

              "No," William said quickly. "We got a response, and it gives us something to go on. The response just came from an unexpected quarter, that's all."

              "You'll let me know what you find out?" she said.

              "Of course," I said.

              "Well, good night." Bryony opened her door. "Try not to have too many nightmares."

              "Good night," I said.

              As Bryony walked up to her house, I moved into the front seat. Once the door was closed safely behind her, we drove off.

              "I'm guessing that was a vampire back at the house," I said after a moment.

              "That's exactly what it was," William replied.

              "I suppose it wasn't David?"

              "I don't know for a fact that it wasn't David," William said, "but I doubt it. From what you said, he was in pretty bad shape. And what happened back at the house was a little dramatic, to say the least. Your encounter with David seemed much more straightforward."

              "So who is the Hunter?"

              "I honestly don't know. But I have a very bad feeling about this. I think that message was meant for you—not for Bryony. I think that whoever has been leaving you notes just came to visit us."

              "Then a vampire has been leaving me notes," I said.

              "Yes. And that means—"

              William's voice trailed off.

              "You don't believe this is an isolated incident any more, do you?" I asked.

              "No, I'm afraid I don't."

              "Could the Hunter be what they're all waiting for?" I asked.

              "What do you mean?"

              "You said the vampires and the hybrids both seemed to be waiting for something. Could they have been waiting for the release of this Hunter?"

              William glanced over at me. "I hope not. But I have to admit that that's a reasonable assumption."

              "This vampire that's been leaving me messages," I said, "do you think whoever it is is trying to help me or scare me?"

              "I hope he wants to help you," William said. "I really do."

              Before long we turned onto my street, and William stopped the car at some distance from my house.

              "Should we park here and walk, or do you want to risk parking by the house?" he asked.

              "We'd better park here," I said. "Just in case. We don't need a confrontation with GM on top of everything else."

              We got out of the car and walked down the street.

              "Are you going to search for the vampire that visited us tonight?" I asked.

              "No," William said. "I think you should go inside and try to get some sleep. I'll watch over the house and try to get in touch with Anton. Maybe he can tell us what we're up against in this Hunter."

              We reached the house, and William reluctantly let go of my hand.

              "Sleep if you can," he said. "I'll come to see you tomorrow."

              "William," I said, "what if—"

              "Don't worry tonight," he said. "You're safe for tonight. And so is Bryony. I'll make sure of it."

              I slipped into the house quietly and went up to my room. As I climbed into bed, I suddenly realized just how tired I was—the night had really taken a lot out of me. And so despite everything I had to think over, I fell asleep quickly.

              The next morning, GM was subdued and inattentive, but I knew better than to ask her what was troubling her. Instead, I finished up breakfast quickly and hurried out the door—I needed to find out two things, and I could find out both of them at school.

              When I arrived at the schoolyard, I spotted Branden and Charisse at their usual picnic table, and Simon was standing nearby with his back to me. I hurried over to him.

              "Hey, Simon."

              He turned, and his eyes lit up like they always did when he saw me. "Hey."

              "Could I ask you a question?"

              "Sure. Anything."

              "It's about that necklace that William won at the carnival."

              His face fell. "Oh. What about it?"

              "Do you remember where you got it from?"

              "I don't know. Is it important?"

              "Yes—it's hard to explain, but it's very important."

              Simon sighed. "Let me think. I got a bunch of stuffed animals from a local store. And I got some ceramic knickknacks from Derek Finley—his mom makes them—I thought those were pretty good, actually. And then Irina donated a box of plastic jewelry—I think her dad's company manufactures a lot of stuff like that."

              He paused. "And that's where it was. The necklace you're asking about was in the box from Irina."

              I glanced at Simon sharply. "The necklace came from Irina? You're sure?"

              "Positive. I remember thinking it was weird that that ugly green thing was in there. None of the stuff was exactly eye-catching, but that necklace was especially awful. I remember, too, that it was the only thing in the box that wasn't plastic."

              "Thanks, Simon," I said. Somehow I wasn't entirely surprised to learn where the necklace had come from. "I really appreciate the information."

              I turned and began to walk toward the school.

              "Wait," Simon called after me. "Where are you going?"

              "I have to find Irina!" I called back.

              I went into the school and hurried through the halls. I didn't know where Irina typically hung out in the morning, but I was lucky enough to catch her at her locker.

              I walked up to Irina and found myself facing her glossy dark ponytail.

              "Hey, Irina," I said.

              She glanced over her shoulder at me. Then she turned back to her locker.

              "Irina, I need to talk to you," I said.

              She shut her locker door and then turned to face me.

              "What do you want?"

              "I need to know about the costume jewelry you gave Simon."

              "What are you talking about?" she said scornfully.

              "You gave Simon a box of costume jewelry for the Black Moon Carnival. Where did it come from? Was it from your dad? Or was it from somewhere else?"

              "Does it matter?"

              "Yes," I said. "I really need to know. A friend of mine won a necklace playing Simon's game, and it turns out the stone in the necklace is a real emerald. We need to trace where it came from."

              "Fine," Irina said. "I'll tell you what I know. I got the box from Ms. Finch. She's my dad's executive assistant. She gave me the box and told me to take it to school. That's the whole story. If you want to know more, ask her."

              I knew who Ms. Finch was—I had met her on a number of occasions, and she was quite a formidable person. I would have to go question her, too, now, and I knew it wouldn't be easy to get any information out of her.

              "Was there something else?" Irina asked.

              "What?" I said.

              "You're still standing here."

              I was irritated, but I had to press on—I was finally going to get an answer about something that had been troubling me directly from the source. "Yes, there is something else. Is your grandfather Maksim staying at your dad's house?"

              Anger flashed in Irina's dark eyes. "How is that any of your business?"

              "I just need to know, that's all."

              "Did your grandmother put you up to this?" she demanded.

              "No," I said firmly. "
I
need to know. My grandmother isn't involved at all."

              "Do you want to hear that all he does is talk about her?" Irina asked. "Do you want to hear that all he talks about is his love for her—as if my grandmother never existed?"

              "Is something wrong, Irina?" A deep voice broke in on our conversation.

              Irina's boyfriend, Terrance, had come up to stand beside us.

              Irina threw a brief glance at me and then smiled at him.

              "No, nothing's wrong."

              Terrance nodded at me. "Hey, Katie. How's it going?"

              "Hey, Terrance. I was just asking about Irina's grandfather. I've met him a few times."

              "Yeah, he's a nice guy. Irina and I had dinner with him the other night."

              "So he's in town?" I said.

              "Yes, he is."

              Irina glared at him, and Terrance turned puzzled eyes on her. "What?"

              "Thanks, guys," I said. "I'll see you later."

              I turned and walked off to my own locker. I was glad to have confirmation of Maksim's presence in town—and that meant it probably was him I had seen at the carnival. But I was also disturbed to find out that he was definitely here. I had suspected him, and the vampire Innokenti, so far as I knew, still suspected him. Of course, Innokenti was not necessarily the most reliable source of information—but where Gleb Mstislav and the Werdulac were both concerned, I believed he was sincere. And Innokenti had hinted that Maksim was working for the Werdulac.

              And Maksim, though he had been very friendly to GM and me in Russia, had made no attempt to contact us, even though he was in town. Or had he? Maksim had been open about his affection for GM, and she had been up to something she wanted to keep from me. Was it possible that GM had not been telling the truth when she'd said she hadn't seen him? Could she be meeting him secretly and keeping it from me because she feared what I might think? She had done something like that once before.

              So what did I think Maksim was up to—if I was inclined to suspect him of wrongdoing? If he was—for the sake of argument—working for the Werdulac, what would he be doing here? David had woken up in the Neverov house—what if Maksim was the one who had taken David from the police station? But that train of thought didn't lead anywhere. David had been created and then staked by a vampire named Sebastian—Maksim couldn't really have had anything to do with that.

              But David's body had been found in the cave in the Old Grove originally. And Branden and certain others in town believed that something odd was going on there. I, myself, had tracked Gleb Mstislav to that cave, and I had wondered if he had chosen the cave for more than one reason.

              And someone in the Neverov household had had a Werdulac-era relic in their possession.

              Could there be a link between Maksim and the cave? But William had already searched the cave, and he hadn't found anything.

              The question of Maksim and the cave occupied my mind all through homeroom, and I was temporarily roused out of my train of thought when I got to first-period Social Studies. Mr. Fehr apparently hadn't informed anyone that he was going to be out, and there was a little flurry of activity as a substitute had to be found.

              I forced myself to put Maksim out of my mind—worrying about him wasn't going to help anything at the moment.

              I managed to keep Maksim out of my thoughts until I reached lunch, and then Branden brought the topic up himself.

              "So have you heard the latest news?" he asked as he sat down heavily and leaned back in his chair.