Dark Companion (24 page)

Chapter 22

On Friday, I watched Hattie, wondering if Jack had told her anything about Lucky and me, but she was the same as always when we went to the Free Pop for lunch. The café was crowded with girls excited about a six-day break, because the teachers had trainings on Monday through Thursday.

“They bring us back on Friday simply to torture us,” Mary Violet grumbled. “If we had the whole week off
and
two weekends, we could go somewhere fabulous.”

Constance got off her phone. “Okay, it’s on. Movies at Spencer’s tonight and we’re all invited. You, too, Jane.”

Mary Violet said, “His home theater’s got the most gargantuan sofa you’ve ever seen. It’s orgy size. Twenty people can fit on it. He’s got one of those old-fashioned popcorn machines. We have sexy nonversations and I’ve been saving up devastating double entendres. That’s French for ‘Oh, no, she didn’t!’”

“Do I know any of the guys who’ll be there?”

Constance named several guys, but didn’t mention Lucky. “You met most of them at the club. This is the last break before the semester gets really hardcore.”

Hattie said, “I’m not going because I want to ace Music Theory and History so I have to listen to scratchy recordings and write essays through the break.”

I was thankful that Hattie gave me an excuse to stay at my cottage waiting for Lucky. “I’m going to grind down and study, too. I have some catching up to do.”

“You’re both really disappointing Mary Violet,” Constance said, and MV sighed dramatically and slumped her shoulders.

At home, I changed into my good jeans and a tank top even though my bruise had almost faded away. I brushed my hair into a high ponytail so that my neck was exposed, and I put on mascara and shadow. I dabbed perfume behind my ears and imagined Lucky nuzzling me there. It had been a whole week. He
must
miss me by now, or at least miss what we shared.

I ate cereal for dinner and watched television. The hours came and went. When I heard a rummaging sound outside, after eleven, I peeked through my curtains, thinking that he’d come.

A doe stood near my porch, nibbling on a shrub. I’d never seen a live deer before and I had no idea they were so lovely, with velvety fur and liquid black eyes. I got the flashlight and tiptoed back to the living room to watch her. Another deer grazed at the lower branches of a birch.

They moved off into the grove. I stepped out of my cottage, clicked on the flashlight, and followed them, staying as far behind as I could without losing sight of them. Suddenly the deer stood motionless. Their ears pivoted forward and with a flip of their tails, they bolted off. After a moment, I heard what had startled them: voices rising and falling. In the distance, people were singing.

Keeping the flashlight to the ground, I walked toward the sounds. Soon I spotted yellowish light flickering through the white tree trunks. Someone was having a party. I clicked off my flashlight and stepped slowly and carefully toward the voices, dreading that I would discover Lucky with another girl there.

What I found was worse.

Two dozen people wearing scarlet hooded robes stood in a circle and chanted in a strange language. The words were harsh, full of sharp consonants. The hoods hid their faces in gloom, and each held a lighted torch, the flames slanting in the breeze.

A man in a black robe with gold embroidery stood in the center of the circle beside a rough wooden table that was set with a glass decanter filled with purple-red liquid and platters of purple grapes, pomegranates, and red apples. The man next to him bowed and I made out a vaguely familiar profile under the hood.

When I inched forward, I saw that they’d made a fire pit with rocks. The chanting halted, and the man in the black robe spoke, then touched his torch to the wood in the pit. Yellow and orange flames licked upward.

He picked up something from the mounds of fruits. It caught the light and glittered. It was a gold knife with a long, narrow blade. He seized a pomegranate and cut into it. Rich crimson juices ran over his hands. He spoke again and tossed the pomegranate into the fire.

The other man presented his palm and Black Robe slashed it quickly with the gold knife. Blood dripped and sizzled in the flames.

I was too shocked to do anything but stare in horror as Black Robe picked up the decanter and poured the viscous purple-red liquid into a goblet, and the other man let his blood drip into it.

And then I heard a low sob nearby. The wind gusted, and the trees made so much noise that I risked turning toward the sound. I caught the glint of glasses and the silhouette of a long, droopy nose. It was Mr. Mason spying on the robed people. His hand covered his mouth and his shoulders dipped and rose with his sobs.

I edged over to him and put my forefinger over my lips. “Quiet!” I whispered, and put my hand on his elbow. I drew him away from the awful scene and when we were around a bend in the path, I clicked on my flashlight and grabbed his hand. “Run!”

He resisted at first, but I didn’t let go. I hauled him behind me and didn’t stop running until we were on the porch of my cottage. I opened the door, yanked my teacher inside, and slammed and locked the door.

Mr. Mason dropped onto the sofa as I walked back and forth, checking the locks and saying, “What was that! What was that!” I thought of the knife and the blood and Lucky’s knife and my blood. Had Lucky been among the people in the circle? It was impossible to know since their faces were hidden, but I thought I would have recognized his build.

Mr. Mason took a handkerchief from his pocket and swiped his eyes before blowing his nose. “You scared me to death. I didn’t see you there at all.”

“Mr. Mason, tell me what that was!” Fright pitched my voice high and loud. “Because right now I’m thinking
vampire cult
.”

“Calm down, Jane. There’s a rational explanation, and I’ll tell you as much as I can.” He smiled nervously, and I sat down in the armchair because my knees were weak.

Then Hosea’s instructions came to me as clearly as if he were talking to me: try to stay calm, assess the danger, don’t show fear, talk respectfully, get away as soon as possible.

I put my hands between my knees to stop them from shaking, and Mr. Mason said, “The founders of Greenwood, including those who founded the school, emigrated from Eastern Europe, where they had been persecuted because they practiced pre-Christian folk traditions. They remained secretive to protect themselves, but they continue to celebrate the ancient farming cycles. It’s their cultural heritage, the same way we use pagan symbols like trees to celebrate Christmas and bunnies to celebrate Easter.”

My nerves jangled loud warnings, but I tried to keep my voice even. “That man cut the other one and dripped his blood in the fire.”

“It’s a surface cut, less than you’d get scraping your knee,” he said, and I was aware of his eyes on my arm.

I pressed my elbow close to my side to hide the mark Lucky had made. “Do they kill people?”

“Good grief, no! The sort of violence you’ve seen in Helmsdale would horrify these people. Tonight is the autumnal equinox. The ceremony was in honor of the autumn harvest. My wife, Claire, was their friend. She used to participate and I went to watch because … to remember her, and how beautiful and solemn she was by the light of the fire.” His voice caught and his eyes watered behind his glasses. “It made her feel like she finally belonged somewhere.”

I wanted to tell him that I knew about her misery, but I couldn’t without admitting that I’d read the letter. “I didn’t recognize the language.”

“Claire told me it’s probably a dialect of Dacian, an ancient Slavic language. Like the Latin you study, it’s long dead.”

Assess the danger
. “The founders moved here because it was foggy and they’re sensitive to sunlight. That decanter was filled with blood.”

Mr. Mason pulled off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Yes, animal blood, probably lamb. They have an enzyme deficiency due to an autosomal recessive genetic disorder. UVA from direct sunlight fragments their DNA. A biological desire to replace the damaged DNA makes them crave blood. They can trick the craving with red foods and drinks, but only blood satisfies it.”

His tone was so matter-of-fact, as if this were an ordinary genetic disorder like color blindness, that he took the edge off my first horrified reaction. But I had to ask the question, even though I knew the answer. “Including human blood?”

“Animal on a regular basis, but also human with consensual partners. Some drink daily and some abstain entirely. They aren’t what the superstitions say. They’re good people. They take care of their friends and we take care of them.” He raised a shaky hand to his forehead. “Outsiders never see this. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but…”

“But I was brought here to supply blood, like a farm animal to genetic mutants.”

“That’s really judgmental for someone with a scientific mind, Jane.” For a moment, he looked at me as if I’d handed in a substandard assignment. “Claire was from Helmsdale, too. The Family selected you to honor her memory, to give you the opportunities she had.”

Talk respectfully
. I stood up and paced. “Mr. Mason, I like you, I really do. But what kind of opportunity is this? I came here for an education, and now you’re telling me I’m only livestock, only one of the herd to be served up at mealtime.”

“It’s not like that and you wouldn’t be passed around. You would have a special relationship with one person. I can’t say any more now!”

“Whatever ‘special’ relationship these pseudo-vampires offer, it didn’t make your wife happy.”

My teacher twisted his handkerchief. “She
was
happy here until … her breakdown. I was the one who thought it might be good to take time off and travel for a year. That’s why she killed herself … because she didn’t want to leave. It’s all my fault.”

His eyes teared up again. “Oh, Claire, my wonderful Claire!” I got a box of tissues and handed it to him and we sat without speaking. Eventually, his sobs subsided.

What I’d thought was my secret with Lucky wasn’t a secret at all—except to me. I felt sick with humiliation thinking about how others must have looked at me, knowing my personal stuff … that I was only at Birch Grove to provide these people with my blood. “Mr. Mason, does
everyone
here know? Does the Holiday family know?”

“No, not your friends the Holidays or the Applewhaites.”

I felt both relief and a hysterical urge to laugh when I thought of how ecstatic MV would be that these freaks existed. “The people in town—they’re part of it, too, right?”

“Only those most trusted and a handful of us at the school. A few students have the condition. It can only be passed on genetically. Their blood can be deadly to us normals in blood-to-blood contamination so they live extremely careful lives.”

The isolated puzzle pieces began coming together: the drops of blood on the marble bench, the penknives, the hats and sunscreen, the meals dripping in blood. “The Radcliffes and Harriet Tyler have the condition, don’t they?” When he nodded, I asked, “What do you call them?”

“Family.”

Family.
The word held immense power to someone who’d never had one.

“Jane, it’s your life and your decision. They chose you because of your exceptional potential. They’ll send you to graduate school and pay for everything so that you can pursue a scientific career. It will be a lifelong commitment, but you’ll always be provided with a nice place to live, expense money, business connections, and friendship. You’ll be part of the Family.”

I panicked thinking about some creepy old guy cutting me and putting his mouth on my body. “You said I’d have a ‘special’ relationship. With whom?”

“I’m not supposed to be telling you any of this, Jane.”

“Mr. Mason, I thought that you and I both valued facts, truth.”

He closed his eyes for a few seconds. “You’re right. Mr. and Mrs. Radcliffe are very impressed because you’ve excelled against all odds.” He met my gaze. “Jane, you were chosen for Lucian Radcliffe.”

I took in a sharp breath. Mrs. Radcliffe had planned for me to be with Lucky. Why then had he wanted to hide our friendship from her? “Does
he
know I’ve been chosen for him?”

“Maybe, but I’m not sure. I’ve been preoccupied with … other things. Claire used to keep up on all the news and tell me. Trust me that nothing will be done without your consent, Jane. Your headmistress would be the one to invite you.”

“I need to think about this for a few days, at least until the break is over. Promise me you won’t tell Mr. and Mrs. Radcliffe that I know.”

“I promise, Jane. But I
will
have to tell them soon. I owe them that.”

“Give me a few days.”

He nodded. “I know when you weigh all the facts, you’ll realize how incredible this opportunity is. Jane Williams, Ph.D.—that sounds right, doesn’t it?”

Then he stood and left.

It was as if these people … no, it was as if Mrs. Radcliffe had walked into my dreams and seen exactly what I wanted: money, a home, a Ph.D., a family, and especially to be with Lucky for ever and ever. I could let them take care of everything for me.

Then I caught myself. When had I become a person who was willing to accept such dark insanity just to be near someone else, even someone as gorgeous as Lucky? When had I become a girl who let adults determine and control her life?

I felt as if I didn’t know myself anymore and that scared me more than the strange blood ritual … because I’d
already
lost myself once.

I packed essential clothes and got my stash and my composition book from my hiding place. I split up the cash and hid it in the bottoms of my shoes, in my bra, in my pockets. I messed up the bed and set a cereal bowl and a cup in the sink to make it look like I’d just had breakfast. I upended a drawer with all my candy bars into the glossy shopping bag that MV had given me.