Dead Push (Kiera Hudson Series Two#7) (13 page)

Peering through the tiny window, I could see half-melted candles scattered about the place. They had been fixed to the damp-ridden walls and stood on tiny china saucers. I could see two small pews in front of what looked like a makeshift altar. Over this had been draped a crimson piece of cloth. There was a statue of Christ and the Madonna. But the thing that drew my attention was the huge cross which had been fixed to the wall behind the altar. It was massive – big enough to crucify a living person on. I could see Isidor and Melody’s lips moving as they spoke to one another, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Perhaps they were praying. Who knew? And did I really give a shit – not really. If the conversation they were having was anything like the one I’d overhead by the lake, then it would be about as interesting as watching paint dry. After a short time, Melody and Isidor left the weird basement, turning the light out.

Bored already tagging along behind these couple of freaks, I decided that perhaps I should head back towards the grate in the woods. After all, I’d been sent back to watch it, not snoop on Isi-
bore
and Melody
Doze
. What was wrong with those two kids? I wondered, creeping away from the house and shaking my head in disbelief. They had a perfectly good place to make out down by the lake, and now an empty house to themselves, and what did they choose to do? Read and pray! Un-fucking-believable!

Reaching the treeline, I glanced back at the house and could see that a light had come on in one of the upstairs rooms.
A bedroom, perhaps? I wondered.

“So what if she had taken Isi-bore up to her bedroom,” I grunted. “She’s probably showing him her freaking stamp collection. It ain’t gonna get any more exciting than that!”

I stepped off the path and back amongst the trees. It was then I saw the bright glare of headlights coming up the narrow track and towards the house. I hid in the shadows as the car slowly crept past. The car stopped outside the house. A grey haired woman climbed from the car. She was a lot older than Melody, but they dressed the same. She wore an identical grey dress and frumpy old black shoes. Melody’s mother, I guessed. I watched her head for the front door and go inside. I looked up at the window where I had seen the light and it had now gone out.

The spider has come home early and caught a fly in the web, I smiled to myself. Now this could be worth hanging back for. Dropping low, almost onto all fours, I slinked over the fence and back across the front yard. A wooden trellis covered in ivy was fixed to the front of the house. Releasing my claws, I climbed it. The same upstairs light came on again, and I flinched backwards from the window. Letting my racing heart slow a little, I peered around the edge of the window frame and into the room. I couldn’t see Melody or Isi-bore anywhere, the only person I could see was the woman I had seen moments before climb from the car. She removed the bonnet from her head and the off-white apron which hung over the front of her dress. She then crossed the room and went to what looked like some kind of grotto.
In the centre of it stood another statue of the Madonna. The woman came away from the grotto holding a set of beads between her fingers. Not more praying, I feared. I was right. The woman dropped to her knees, and closing her eyes, she laced her fingers before her and started to pray before the grotto. I watched her lips open and close as if she were babbling something out loud. The window was shut and I couldn’t hear whatever it was she was saying –
chanting
. Just when I was about to give up and climb back down the trellis, the woman stood up and unfastened her dress.

Now this is more like it, I smiled to myself. Or perhaps not!

The woman stood in the centre of the room wearing underwear which was something close to a pair of freaking bloomers! Was I ever going to catch a break? Her skin was covered in more wrinkles than a sackcloth, and her tits sagged so much I feared she might just trip over them as she made her way towards the bedroom door. It was then I noticed her back was covered in a maze of scars.

Now she didn’t look like the kinda woman that paid to get spanked, so she must have caused those scars herself. Kinky, I grinned as she left the room.  Then, just when I thought things couldn’t get any more bizarre, Isi-bore and Melody burst out of the wardrobe and fell back into the room.

“What the fuck is going on?” I breathed, watching as Melody pushed Isi-bore towards the bedroom door. I didn’t have to hear whatever it was she was saying, I knew she was scared because of the fear I could see in her eyes. They both left the room, and I quickly climbed back down to the ground. Just as my feet touched the ground, the front door flew open. I pressed myself flat into the ivy covered trellis.

“Who’s there? Melody is that you?” I heard her mother screech from inside the house.

Isi-bore appeared on the small porch before the front door. The dull light from the hallway cast long shadows over his young face, making him look older than his years. 

“Come with me, Melody. I can take you home with me – it’s different – but better than here,” I heard him say, his voice sounded desperate and panicked. 

“I can’t,” Melody said.

“Melody!
Melody! Who are you talking to?
Who’s there?
” her mother screeched again from inside the house.

“It’s okay
, momma. It’s just me,” Melody called back, and I could hear fear in her voice. She was scared of her mother.

“Please, Melody, come with me?” Isi-bore pleaded just above a whisper.

“I can’t come with you, Isidor,” she said, and although I could see her face, I knew that she was crying by the broken sound to her voice. Melody swung the front door closed, leaving Isi-bore alone on the porch.

I watched the boy slowly make his way down the garden path back along the track towards town. He walked with his head bowed forward and shoulders slumped. I followed him. He looked as if he had a very
heavy cross to bear.

Part of me wanted to catch up with him and shake some sense into him, tell him not to be such a pussy and to grow up. But there was suddenly another part of me that felt different, watching his lonely figure head across town and back towards the woods. From a distance, I followed him back to the grate. It made a grinding noise in the silence of the night, as he lifted it open. He dropped inside the hole, and closed the grate over his doorway into this world.

“Remind you of anyone?” a voice suddenly asked.

I looked around to discover the bride standing between the trees just a few feet away. Her long, white dress made a whispering sound in
the freezing cold breeze. 

“Fuck off,” I hissed, and took my place behind a nearby tree, so I could watch the grate and wait for the photographer.

Potter

For two days and nights I froze my nuts off hiding in the alleyway opposite Kiera’s apartment. With each passing hour, the cold seemed to work its way through my flesh, until my bones felt like brittle sticks of ice. I was almost out of cigarettes too, as I had pretty much worked my way through the packets I had stolen from the campsite. I had eaten little over the last couple of days, the only food I had managed to find was a rat I had caught scurrying around in the dark. The blood had been hot and sweet, and had gone a little way to help my cravings, but there was no Hollows in this world to go back to should the cravings become too much.

My hunger had only been made worse, when the night before
last, I’d seen Sparky arrive on foot carrying a bag of takeout. I could smell the noodles from across the street and my stomach had performed cartwheels. But I simply slunk back into the darkness and gnawed on what was left of the vermin. I tried not to let the whole thing piss me off. I knew I had to stay focused, that’s why I had fought the urge to follow Kiera on the few occasions she had left her apartment, like I had followed her before. I kept telling myself that what she did in this world had nothing to do with me. And besides, I took no satisfaction in watching her with Sparky or watching Kiera cry herself to sleep at night. That was one thing I had found difficult to deal with. Why had Kiera been crying that night? Something bad had happened and I wondered if Kiera’s and Sparky’s relationship was as tight as it had first appeared. I kept trying to tell myself to let go – to forget about the Kiera living across the street and to concentrate on the task in hand. I hadn’t left the alleyway once, not since the night I had gone after Kiera, and so far there had been no sign of the photographer. How long would it take for him to put in an appearance? For how many more days and nights could I risk hiding out in the street before I got arrested on suspicion of being a pervert? Maybe a night or two in the police cells would be a good thing – at least I’d get hot food and a decent night’s sleep. Sleeping was hard, not only because it had pretty much rained since coming back, and the ground was covered in puddles, I just couldn’t afford to sleep. Knowing my luck, the moment I got some shut-eye, the photographer would put in an appearance and the whole mission would’ve been just a waste of time. Instead of discovering the identity of the photographer, the only thing I would have discovered is that the woman I loved most in the world was dating a freaking werewolf – in this world, at least!

It was early evening on the third night and I was struggling to keep my eyes open. I had run out of cigarettes and the cravings were bad. The nicotine did help to ease my need for the red stuff. I think I’d scared most of the vermin away so there was nothing else to eat. I slid down the alley wall and wrapped my coat about myself as tightly as I could. Cupping my
hands together, I brought them up to my lips and blew warm air from my lungs across them. They felt like a pack of frozen fish fingers. I leant forward and rested my forehead against my hands. I closed my eyes, and rocked forward, any movement to try and keep myself warm. With my eyes shut tight, I wished for a cigarette.

“Please hurry up and deliver the photograph,” I whispered. I didn’t know for how much longer I could take the cold and lack of sleep.

“What photograph?” I heard someone suddenly say.

I opened my eyes to see Kiera standing in the opening of the alleyway. She was holding an open umbrella and the rain was drumming off the top of it. She looked real pretty in the pale blue top she was wearing with black jeans and trainers.

“Huh?” I said, surprised at seeing her standing there looking down at me. I scrambled to my feet.

“What are you doing in the alleyway, Potter?” she scowled.

“I was just passing,” I mumbled, unable to think of a better excuse so quickly.

“Liar,” she said, staring out at me from beneath the umbrella. “You’ve been watching my apartment for the last three days.”

“No I haven’t,” I lied. “I’ve only been here a few minutes. I ducked into the alleyway to keep out of the rain.”

“And smoked several packs of cigarettes?” she said, looking down at the hundred or so scattered cigarette ends floating in the puddles. 

“They’re not all mine,” I said.

“I’ve seen you, Potter,” Kiera said. “If you’re going to do a stakeout at night, don’t smoke. The ends of your countless cigarettes have been winking on and off like a set of Christmas tree lights.”

“You’ve known I’ve been hiding out in this rat-infested alleyway in the pissing rain for the last few days and you haven’t so much as even brought me out a hot cup of coffee?” I sighed in disbelief.

“So you have been spying on me?” she asked, her voice now sounding angry.

“I haven’t been spying on you…” I started.

“What have you been doing then?” she demanded.

“It’s not what you think,” I said, looking straight back at her.

“You don’t even want to know what I’m thinking right at this moment,” she seethed.

“Go on, surprise me,” I muttered, patting my coat pockets down just in case there was a cigarette hiding someplace.

“You’re working for the wolves,” she said, accusing.

“What?” I gasped. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

“Don’t lie to me,” she shot back. “I know you’re working with them.”

“Not me, sweet-cheeks,” I said, still patting my pockets.

“Don’t call me that!” she barked. “You don’t get to say stuff like that to me anymore.”

“So who does get to say stuff like that to you now?” I shot back, forgetting that I was now talking to the Kiera Hudson of this world and not my own. “Is Sparky the one who gets to say stuff like that these days?”

“Oh, my God,” Kiera said, staring at me. “So this is what it’s all about.”

“What’s what about?” I said, shaking my head at her.

“Perhaps I was wrong,” Kiera gasped. “Perhaps you’re not working with the wolves and the reason you‘ve been watching me is because you thought you could stroll back into my life like nothing had happened and climb straight back into my bed. You couldn’t believe that I threw you out the other night. Your bruised ego told you that you couldn’t possibly be the problem, so you thought that there might be someone else in my life – someone else who had taken your place in my bed.”

“And is there?” I asked before thinking.

“That is none of your business,” she quite rightly reminded me.

It was none of my business; I kept trying to tell myself.