Darkness Watching (Darkworld #1) (14 page)

“Sure,” I said.

I quickly dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved top, noticing my pile of washing was building up at an alarming rate. I’d need to visit the laundrette soon, something I looked forward to with trepidation.

I’d hoped to push all thoughts of demons and magic from my head, but the first thing I saw when we got off the bus in Redthorne―after we’d picked ourselves up off the floor―was a dark space, like someone had sliced through the air with a giant knife. A pair of violet eyes gleamed from its depths. Dread clutched at me.

Claudia’s words echoed in my mind.
They call it the touch of instant death. Once a demon’s in your mind, it’s a small matter of reaching out to the part of your mind that tells your heart to keep beating, and just as casually as you might flick a light switch… turning off your life.

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms. So I could see it. Big deal. It couldn’t hurt me. I didn’t care that I was naïve to think like that. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life wondering if the next demon I saw would be my last.

I wouldn’t live in fear. Not anymore.

So, I walked right through the dark space as if it wasn’t there. Or as if I had the normal sight of a regular person, someone who couldn’t see the darkness.

The darkness beneath.

David gave me an odd look. “You feeling okay, Ash?”

“Sure,” I said, with a smile. Stepping through that dark space felt like a triumph, in a way.

But I couldn’t help noticing David walked slightly to the left of the dark space, as I’d walked through it.
Can he see it, too? Is he like me?

Or had I imagined it?

Doubts crowded my mind, but I turned my thoughts impatiently back to the present. I couldn’t keep suspecting everyone I knew of having a connection to the Darkworld. It would drive me mad.

I enjoyed shopping with David, probably because it was so straightforward. Cara was a bit too much of a serious shopper; going to town with her required the patience of a saint, coupled with the arm strength of Hercules in order to carry all her bags home. But it took only an hour for the two of us to get everything we needed from the outdoors shop, and we still had time left for a visit to Waterstone’s.

“Want to get a Starbucks?” said David, as we left the bookshop. As always, it took extreme restraint on my part not to buy everything on the shelves. Even so, I’d caved into temptation and bought a couple books Alex and Sarah had recommended to me.

“Sure,” I said.

We chatted over coffee. David had bought some books, too, extra course reading for his Politics module. It made me feel kind of bad for not doing more background reading, but there was always the library. My student loan had been depleted enough by the gigantic £30 anthologies we’d already had to purchase.

“Another reason to be glad I didn’t go to Oxford,” I said. “I’d have been out of money by the second term.”

“Yeah, these things aren’t cheap,” said David, putting the book bag down with a
thunk.
“My parents said they’d pay for everything, but still.”

“I think mine were glad I came here instead, to be honest,” I said.

“I went to a private school, so it was expected for everyone to apply,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong; it’s a nice place, it just wasn’t for me.”

“I don’t know if I could have coped with the intense academic atmosphere. I mean, my school put me under enough pressure, and they’re just an average state school. I pretty much taught myself all my A-Levels. They weren’t arsed; all they cared about were my grades, and how they’d reflect on their reputation.”

“That sucks. You’re really intelligent, Ash. You shouldn’t let other people put you off doing what you want.”

“I don’t.” I felt my face burn. “I came here because I wanted to.”

“Yeah, same here.”

Was there something else in his tone? Had he simply liked the university, or, like Claudia said, was it some kind of psychic influence?

Now I didn’t know how much of what I thought I heard was coloured by the words of Claudia and the fortune-teller. Intentionally or not, together they’d completely fragmented my peace of mind.

David and I talked of other, insignificant things all the way back. My mind buzzed, not with suspicion, but because of the way he’d spoken to me. I was no good at reading people at all, but I knew Cara would have interpreted the fact we’d gone for coffee as
just the two of us
as indicatory of some interest in me.

And the part when he’d called me
intelligent
?

Inwardly, I groaned. Just what I’d hoped to avoid.

Did David like me? Was I reading the signs all wrong? I had no previous experience to draw on; I’d never dated before. And it wasn’t because I’d been to an all-girls’ school. I’d avoided this kind of thing like the plague in the past because I simply couldn’t be bothered with it. In my mind, it should be simply this: boy likes girl, girl likes boy, boy asks girl out, or vice versa, sorted. No angst or uncertainty or ambiguous feelings. But I hadn’t a clue whether I
liked
him, or if I’d just been embarrassed by the compliment.

This is ridiculous.

I sighed. I’d Skype Cara to ask her advice.

he first two days of lectures were fairly straightforward, even if I did feel like death getting up at nine on the first day. Maps and signposts made it easy to find the lecture theatres, and most of our lectures took place in the main building in the centre of campus, and seminars in one of two buildings in the central square.

Whatever psychic influence had compelled me to choose this university, there was no denying the course was perfect for me. The lengthy reading list wasn’t daunting at all, after what I’d put myself through for that interview almost a year ago. It more or less covered the basics of literature from the medieval period up until the twenty-first century, and, geeky or not, I couldn’t wait to get started.

On Monday evening, Alex, Sarah, and I went to the first meeting of the Literature Society, where I faced the challenge of remembering even more new names and faces. The meeting was an informal gathering in which members could talk about books, so it was pretty much a given that I’d get along with people. I couldn’t imagine anyone at my old school wanting to get involved in a heated discussion on feminism in Victorian poetry.

All the same, another future meeting lurked at the back of my mind. I saw Claudia on Tuesday morning leaving the main lecture theatre as I stood outside, but she didn’t notice me and quickly disappeared into the crowd. Still, it proved our last two encounters hadn’t been some weird hallucination on my part.

She texted me that night, asking if I was still coming. I replied in the affirmative. Even though I felt half-tempted to let it slide and pretend this part of my life didn’t exist, the fact remained that something had tried to attack me. What if it happened again?

And, whether I admitted it to myself or not, I wanted to know more. I still wanted answers.

When I finally got to sleep that night, I revisited an old childhood nightmare, one from the days when I used to stay at Aunt Eve’s Windermere cottage every summer. As a young child, I’d loved to play in the woods behind the house, despite Mum constantly nagging me to stay out of there, telling me I’d get lost. I loved the way the trees were so dense they cut out the sunlight even on the sunniest day, making it seem like I wandered through a twilight-lit fairyland. I loved the atmosphere, the absence of human noise. Yet it was so easy to lose track of time. Sometimes, when the sun was going down, I’d lose my way entirely, and darkness would steal in, obscuring the path even further. Then I’d panic. Fear would rise within me, and I’d run, feet pounding on the path, not knowing why but being unable to stop. Like I was running from something invisible.

Maybe even then I could feel the presence of demons.

In my dreams, the monsters that chased me were real, solid creatures, and tonight they looked like shadow-foxes. Their teeth snapped at my heels. I put on a burst of speed, almost as if I’d grown wings, feet barely skimming the ground as I flew between dark, twisted trees. But the shadows kept pace alongside me, and, as one brushed against my leg I felt a familiar paralysing chill sweep through me. My feet froze in position; my legs locked. Teeth sank into my ankle, and the searing pain jolted me awake.

I forced my eyes open to find myself half-in, half-out of my bed. My ankle burned with a sharp pain, but I couldn’t twist my head to look because, once again, I couldn’t move.

This is effing ridiculous!

I put in every bit of strength I could muster, coaxing my body to roll toward the edge of the bed―and tumbled over, hitting the floor with a jarring crash.

The impact jolted me out of paralysis. Clambering painfully to my feet, I examined the injury, expecting to see a line of teeth marks on my ankle, but, stranger than that, a pinkish line, like a burn, marked my skin. My skin itched.

Carpet burn? Weird.

I felt a cold draft from the open window, also odd, because I never left it open overnight. Not after the sheep incident. I didn’t particularly want the local wildlife paying a visit to my room. I wondered if I’d been sleepwalking or something.

I sat in the window seat with a book, watching the sun rise over the distant hills. Golden light spilled over the landscape like butter, gilding the treetops with a halo of sunlight.

But I knew all too well that, whilst this place might be free from darkness, something out there was waiting for me to leave.

And today I’d take my first step toward facing it.

Wednesday was my free day, so I had no lectures or seminars that morning. I buried myself in reading for a few hours, preparing for my classes later in the week. But I was distracted; my mind kept skipping to the meeting. Finally, glancing at the clock, I left the flat and walked across the student village to the common room.

The only person inside was a disinterested-looking bartender who didn’t give me a second glance. It took me a while to find the Games Room, which was upstairs, because the staircase was tucked away out of sight in a corner. I walked past it at least six times before I noticed it.