Ignis (Book 2, Pure Series) (19 page)

           
I hurried down the stairs.

           
"Charisse, where are you?" I said.
 
"Help me to find you."

           
I heard a soft rustle and glanced around sharply.
 
There was a curtain near the stairs that partitioned off a small room where I knew Mrs. Graebel had a large freezer and several shelves full of cans and other nonperishable goods.

           
The rustling came again.
 
The sound seemed to be coming from behind the curtain.

           
I pushed the curtain aside, and I reached up for a slim chain that hung down from a naked light bulb that was mounted on the ceiling.
 
The light clicked on, and I could see a large pair of shoes sticking out past the edge of the freezer.

           
The shoes were clearly too big to be Charisse's, and I hurried forward.
 
Branden was lying on the floor next to the freezer, his eyes closed, and his arms arranged in an X across his chest.
 
Charisse was lying next to him, arranged in the same position.
 
Charisse's mother was lying next to Charisse.

           
Quickly I dropped to the floor to examine them.
 
Their hearts were beating steadily, and they were all breathing comfortably.
 
I gave each one of them a shake and called out their names, but none of them stirred.
 
They were clearly deeply unconscious, and I had a feeling that they had been that way for quite some time.
 
Who then had called my name?
 
Who had made the rustling sound?

           
I stood up.
 
I took a few steps backward, and as I did so, I stumbled against a solid body.

           
I turned.
 
Joshua Martin was standing behind me.

           
"Joshua, you're here just in time."
 
I realized I was shaking.
 
"Something's happened to Charisse, Branden, and Mrs. Graebel.
 
We've got to help them.

           
"They're okay," Joshua replied calmly.

           
I stepped aside.
 
"Have you seen them?
 
Maybe you didn't notice that everybody's unconscious."

           
"They're all right," Joshua said.
 
His composure was unnerving and somehow out of place.

           
I started to feel strangely light-headed.

           
"Do you know what happened to them?" I asked.

           
"They're sleeping.
 
Like I said, they're all right."

           
"How did they all fall asleep?
 
All at the same time?
 
All in the basement?"

           
Joshua gave me his boyish smile.
 
"I did this.
 
I have certain—talents."

           
I stepped backwards—away from him.
 
My hand brushed against the metal shelving that held all of the canned goods.

           
Joshua was between me and the curtain that led to the stairs.

           
"You said you'd never hurt Charisse or her mother," I said.
 
"I heard you say that only yesterday."

           
"They're okay.
 
I'm not after them.
 
I'm after you."

           
"Me?"

           
Joshua flashed his boyish smile again.
 
"Yes, you.
 
There's a price on your head.
 
And I intend to collect."

           
I was startled.
 
Innokenti had said there was a price on my head—but there was no way Joshua Martin could know about that.

           
"I'm just a high school student," I said.
 
"No one would be interested in me."

           
Joshua tilted his head on one side and gave me a look as if I were missing something obvious.
 
"No one human."

           
I felt a stab of fear run through me.
 
"You're a vampire?"

           
Once more, Joshua smiled.

           
"Are you with Anton and Innokenti?"
 
It was hard for me to force the words out.

           
"I haven't had the pleasure of meeting them, but it doesn't surprise me that there are others.
 
The reward for catching you is a very attractive one."

           
"What is it?
 
Who's after me?
 
Why would someone offer a reward for me?"

           
"You're starting to sound hysterical now," Joshua said.
 
"There's no need for you to be afraid."

           
He held out his hand.
 
"Just come with me."

           
I tried frantically to think of something to say that would get rid of him, but my mind refused to work.
 
My body was as frozen as my mind.
 
I wanted to run for the curtain, but I couldn't make myself move.

           
"I see you eyeing the doorway there."
 
Joshua's tone was pleasant.
 
"You know you won't make it, right?
 
It's much easier if you just come with me."

           
Don't listen to him
, cried a voice in my head.
 
Block him out.
 
Do something
.

           
Anything
.

           
"Now, I see you're still hesitating to come with me.
 
Let me explain the situation.
 
I've planned this all out—and you'll understand that it's in your best interests just to come with me.
 
Do you watch any sports?"

           
"What do mean?" I asked.
 
Don't listen to him,
cried the voice in my head.
 
Don't answer him
.

           
"Basketball?
 
Football?
 
Hockey?"

           
"Sometimes, I guess."

           
"Well, then, you know."
 
Joshua sounded pleased, approving.
 
"There are two ways you can play just about any sport.
 
You can be a power player or a finesse player.
 
Do you understand the distinction?"

           
"Yes," I said, though I was unwilling to answer the question.
 
I just couldn't stop myself somehow.

           
"I knew you'd know," Joshua said.
 
"Me, I'm a finesse guy.
 
I use skill rather than force.
 
That's why I came to your friend's house to find you.
 
You see, if I'd been seen hanging around your house, and you went missing, I'd be a suspect.
 
But if I spend time at your friend's house, and you go missing now, no one will even think to look at me.
 
Who's going to make the connection?
 
I'm willing to bet that no one even knows you're over here.
 
Am I right?"

           
"That's not true," I blurted out.
 
"My grandmother knows I stopped by.
 
If I don't come home soon, she'll be right over here."

           
The corners of Joshua's eyes crinkled.
 
"You're lying.
 
That's why I'm so good at the finesse game.
 
I'm really good at reading faces.
 
You're trapped, and you can't get away from me.
 
That's why it's best if you just come with me."

           
I felt panic well up within me, and I forced myself to move.
 
I reached behind me and grabbed a can.
 
I threw it.

           
The can hit Joshua squarely in the face.
 
I threw another and another.

           
Anger flashed in Joshua's eyes.
 
"Katie, I'm really going to have to ask you to stop that."

           
I threw more cans, and then I heaved a bottle of some kind of oil at him.
 
He reached out to catch the bottle, and he grabbed it out of the air with such force that it burst, dowsing him in oil.

           
He lunged for me then, and in a panic, I grabbed onto the shelves.
 
I tugged on them as hard as I could, and the shelving tipped forward.
 
As Joshua reached me, I pulled the whole structure down toward us.
 
I managed to scramble out of the way, but Joshua was caught by the full weight of the shelves.

           
I ran for the stairs.

           
 
I had just reached the top when something like an iron band wrapped around my ankle and pulled my feet out from under me.
 
I fell to the floor heavily, and I cried out in pain.

           
"Hello?
 
Who's there?"
 
A voice floated down the hall to me.
 
"Is that you, Charisse?"

           
"In here!" I screamed.
 
"In the basement!
 
Help me!"

           
Footsteps hurried down the hall, and I soon saw a familiar face.

           
"Simon!" I cried.
 
"Simon!"

           
Simon rushed forward and grabbed at my hands.
 
As he did so, a large, dark shape vaulted over my head and hit Simon in the chest.

           
Joshua and Simon rolled down the hall.

           
I scrambled to my feet and ran after them, my mind racing.
 
Holy water, garlic, sunlight—all no use.
 
That left wood or fire.
 
And fire was best.

           
The two of them stopped rolling, and Simon stared, dazed, into his attacker's face.
 
"It's Joshua, right?
 
What are you doing?"

           
In lieu of an answer, Joshua stood, picked Simon up, and threw him against the far wall in the living room.
 
Then he turned toward me.
 
I ran toward a small table and picked up the lamp that rested on it.
 
I threw the lamp at him, but the electrical cord pulled taut and the lamp smashed harmlessly on the floor.
 
I threw the table at him next, and Joshua hit it, splintering it into pieces.

           
"Leave her alone!" Simon shouted.

           
He jumped up and caught Joshua by the shoulders and spun him around.
 
Simon punched Joshua solidly in the stomach, and then in the face.
 
Joshua simply smiled, baring his sharp teeth.

           
Simon took a step back in shock.

           
"Fire or wood!" I cried.
 
"We've got to use fire or wood to stop him.
 
But fire is best!"

           
Before Simon could react, Joshua lifted him up and threw him against the wall again.

           
I picked up a vase and smashed it against Joshua's head.
 
Then I hit him with a big pillar candle.

           
"I found a lighter," Simon cried.

           
Joshua ignored him and kept coming for me.
 
I pulled a picture off the wall and broke it over his head.
 
The glass splintered and left jagged cuts all over his face.
 
The frame itself rattled around his neck.

           
Joshua grabbed me by the throat, and I clawed desperately at his hands.

           
"I did try to do this nicely," he said.

           
Joshua's thumb pressed firmly against a spot on my throat.
 
My vision began to swim, and I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness.
 
Suddenly there was a flash of metal, and a heavy kitchen knife slashed across Joshua's wrist.
 
With a cry of rage, he let me go.