Ignis (Book 2, Pure Series) (22 page)

           
As GM and I got out of the car, I couldn't help but wonder what had gotten into Charisse—she seemed so positive that William had been at her house with Joshua.
 
Her dislike of him must have been stronger than I had realized.

           
GM went into the house ahead of me, and I paused outside on the step.
 
What if Charisse
had
seen something and misinterpreted it?

           
What if there really had been someone with Joshua?
 
What if there was yet another vampire lurking in town?

           
"Is something wrong, Solnyshko?"

           
"No—it's nothing," I said.
 
I went into the house and closed the door behind me.

           
GM and I had a quiet dinner, and then I went upstairs to do my homework, wishing all the while that it were already tomorrow, and that I was already back at school.

           
I
had
to see William tomorrow.

           
And once again, before I went to bed, I passed by the mirror and could have sworn that a shadow moved within it—a shadow that shouldn't have been there.

           
GM drove me to school the next morning, and I was nearly frantic to see William.
 
I knew that I could use his call to summon him, but that was something I felt I should only use in an emergency.
 
I hoped he would show up right away.

           
Maybe he'd heard about Joshua and would even be waiting for me outside the school.

           
I hurried into the schoolyard and scanned it quickly.
 
There were a few students standing out in the yard huddled against the cold, but William was not amongst them.
 
I'd already had a text from Charisse telling me that neither she nor Branden would be in school today.
 
But I did spot Simon standing by the usual picnic table—he was clearly waiting for me.

           
I hurried over to him.

           
Simon turned at my approach.
 
"Hey, Katie.
 
How are you?
 
Did you sleep okay last night?"

           
"Yes, thanks," I said.
 
"How are you?
 
How are those burns?"

           
Simon pulled off his gloves to show me his bandaged hands.
 
"They're good.
 
I know all this wrapping looks bad, but it should heal well.
 
There probably won't even be any scarring."

           
He gave me a smile.
 
"That last part is too bad.
 
I hear girls like a few scars."
 
He pulled his gloves back on.
 
"Would you like to go inside?
 
It's freezing out here."

           
I took one last look around the schoolyard and felt disappointment rising within me.

           
"Sure," I said.
 
"Let's go in."

           
We went into the school and made our way to the cafeteria.

           
"So, your grandmother is shepherding you to school again, is she?" Simon asked as we sat down at a round table.

           
"Yes, she is," I said.
 
I scanned the cafeteria for William.
 
He usually chose to appear at busy times when he was less likely to be noticed, but I hoped to see him anyway—I didn't care if Simon saw him and wondered why he was there.
 
I looked over each face carefully, but William clearly wasn't in the cafeteria anywhere.
 
Disappointment welled up within me again.

           
Simon continued.
 
"That's probably for the best that you have a chaperone."
 
He took a deep breath.
 
"I heard about Charisse—I heard that she saw William at the scene of the crime."

           
"Charisse doesn't know what she saw," I said, my anger flaring.
 
"She also told me she didn't remember much of anything at all."

           
"She seemed pretty sure about William.
 
Katie, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I really think you should stop seeing him."

           
My anger faded as quickly as it had come—Simon was just onto his favorite topic.
 
There was no point in arguing with him.

           
"You've been saying that a lot lately," I said wearily.
 
"And as it happens, GM agrees with you."

           
"Oh, does she?"
 
Simon did a poor job of concealing a smile.

           
We talked a little more, but my heart wasn't really in it.
 
I was relieved when the warning bell rang, and Simon and I streamed out into the hall with everyone else.

           
Shortly after Simon waved goodbye and disappeared into the crowd, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
 
I turned around expectantly, but it wasn't William who was standing behind me.

           
It was Irina.

           
Her dark eyes were blazing.
 
"You almost got him killed.
 
Are you happy?"

           
"What are you talking about, Irina?"

           
"I'm talking about Simon.
 
It's all over the school.
 
He was nearly killed in a fire last night.
 
All because he was trying to save you."

           
"That's not exactly what happened."

           
"Do you even care about him?" Irina demanded.
 
"You take everything so calmly.
 
Like the world owes you something.
 
Like everyone's supposed to be in love with you.
 
And you can't even be bothered to care about anyone in return."

           
I felt my anger flare up again.
 
"You don't know anything about Simon and me.
 
We've been friends for years—and during most of those years you didn't even seem to know he was alive.
 
Do you actually care about him?
 
Or is he just something you can't have?"

           
"Do
I
actually care?" Irina's voice rose hysterically, and several people in the crowded hall turned to stare at us.
 
"Do I care?
 
I care more than you ever have or ever will."

           
I was startled to see tears welling up in Irina's eyes.
 
"Irina—"

           
"Your family has always been trouble," Irina said suddenly.
 
"My father told me all about it."

           
I was thrown off by the sudden shift in topic.
 
"My family?"

           
Irina's lips twisted into a bitter smile and a tear spilled down her cheek.
 
"My father told me that your family tried to ruin us back in Russia.
 
He told me about what your grandmother did.
 
And you—you're no different."

           
Irina stormed off, and I was left staring after her in shock.
 
What could my friendship with Simon possibly have to do with anything that had happened in Russia?

           
And why was she attacking my grandmother?

           
I shook off my shock and hurried on to homeroom.

           
As the day wore on, I looked anxiously for William.
 
I lingered in the hallways and was very nearly late for several classes.
 
I had lunch with Simon, and though I tried to be sociable, I had a hard time paying attention to anything Simon said.

           
The second half of the day passed all too quickly, and though I did receive a series of unexpected glares from Irina—who suddenly seemed to be everywhere—I didn't see any sign of William.

           
At the final bell, I went to my locker slowly and lingered in the halls, searching the faces that passed me.
 
With reluctance, I left the school and stood outside in the cold, watching the crowd as it swelled at first and slowly dispersed.

           
As the minutes ticked by, the cold seemed to seep under my coat and into my skin.
 
I waited as long as I could, knowing that GM was probably growing anxious.

           
I was alone in the schoolyard when I finally got out my phone with shaking fingers and called home.

           
Once again, William had forgotten me.

Chapter 8.

Two more days passed without any word from William.
 
When the final bell rang at the end of the day on Friday, I went to my locker and pulled out my books without looking around.
 
I'd reached a point at which I no longer scanned the crowd for William—I actually avoided looking as much as possible.

           
I didn't want to see that he wasn't there.

           
I knew I could use the call to summon him, but I kept telling myself that I wanted to keep that for emergencies.

           
In reality I was afraid that he wouldn't appear.

           
I had realized with a pang that I couldn't call William the regular way either—since I didn't have a phone number for him.
 
It hadn't mattered very much before—he'd appeared of his own volition often enough that we stayed in regular contact—even if our meetings tended to be brief.
 
I supposed it had been part of his plan to keep some distance between us.

           
I tried to tell myself that there was nothing to worry about, that William had something important he had to do, and that he would come back when whatever it was was finished.

           
Somehow, I felt as if William were still nearby, still watching over my house at night so I could sleep in safety.

           
If that is the case
, whispered a dissenting voice in my head,
then why didn't he protect you from Joshua Martin
?

           
I pushed the thought away—I didn't have an answer for my own question.

           
All I could do was wait—and hope.

           
I closed my locker door, and I was surprised to see Charisse standing on the other side of it.

           
Things had been awkward between the two of us since that day in the hospital when she had accused William of being at her house with Joshua, and though she had returned to school, we hadn't really spoken much.

           
So as I looked at her now, I wasn't sure what to expect from her.

           
"Hey," she said.

           
"Hey," I said warily.

           
"I don't want things to be weird between us," she said.

           
"Neither do I," I replied.

           
"I want you to know that I didn't tell the police that I saw William at the house with Joshua," Charisse said slowly.
 
"Ultimately, I couldn't be sure it was him.
 
My memory of the whole incident is very, very hazy."

           
She frowned and looked down in thought.
 
"It's really weird.
 
Like I said, my memories are hazy, but the part about William stands out really clearly—that's partly why I don't trust it now.
 
It's almost like I imagined it."

           
She looked up at me.
 
"Maybe it was just my dislike of William bubbling up to the surface.
 
I
did
tell the police that I saw someone.
 
But I didn't I.D. William—I didn't think it was fair to malign him when I couldn't be sure."

           
She held out a warning finger.
 
"I don't want you to think I like him now.
 
I don't.
 
And I'm still not entirely sure he's not guilty.
 
But I couldn't really come up with a motive for him—he certainly wasn't dating my mom."

           
Relief flooded through me.
 
"You don't have to like him.
 
I'll settle for your not having him thrown in jail."