Ignis (Book 2, Pure Series) (30 page)

           
I got everything ready, and then I lit a small candle that sat on the table by my bed.
 
After that, I shut off the light.
 
I hoped that having the light off would encourage any invaders to come to my room first—with any luck I could keep them away from GM entirely.

           
Then I settled down to start my lonely vigil.

           
I sat on my bed next to my supplies and stared at the flame on the candle.
 
I began to listen again to the tiny sounds that the house made in the night, and each sound that my ears caught filled me with fear.
 
I was afraid to look anywhere but at the candle—it seemed somehow like the only safe thing in the room.
 
The tapering arrow of light that rose from the wick seemed fragile and delicate—its light all too easily extinguished by a gust of air or the pressure from two fingertips.

           
Eventually the light from the candle began to hurt my eyes, and I was forced to look away.
 
I began to adjust to the gloom, and dark shapes, which I knew would appear familiar and innocuous in daylight, seemed to me now suspicious and menacing—every dark mass seemed to hide a vampire.

           
Though I knew there was nothing to be afraid of in my room, I couldn't shake off my fear.
 
I told myself repeatedly that none of the shapes could possibly be vampires—if they had been, they certainly wouldn't have waited to attack.

           
As time passed, the sounds in the house seemed to get louder—every noise seemed to be someone breaking in.

           
I continued to stare around my darkened room, and time seemed to lose all meaning.
 
After what felt like an age, I heard a loud creak.
 
I had fallen into something like a daze, and I snapped into alertness.
 
I heard another loud creak, and I fumbled for my covered broomstick and the lighter.
 
My heart began to hammer painfully, and I waited, listening for yet another creak.

           
I was sure a vampire was coming up the stairs.

           
Silence ensued, and I strained to hear, my breathing shallow.

           
Come on
, I thought.
 
Don't make me wait
.

           
I just want this to be over with
.

           
But there were no more creaks, and no one battered down my door.

           
But maybe that wasn't my stalker's style—Joshua, for example, had said he believed in finesse.

           
I looked toward my door, which was heavily shrouded in shadow, and I watched it, expecting to see it ease open.

           
But the silence in the room continued to stretch on uninterrupted, and the door remained closed.

           
I couldn't have said how much time passed, but I began to relax again despite myself, and I loosened my grip on my broomstick.
 
My breathing began to grow deeper and more comfortable.

           
I was pretty sure that GM and I were still alone in the house.

           
I tried to force myself to remain alert to all sounds, but my mind began to wander despite my best efforts.
 
And even though I told myself that I didn't need distractions, my thoughts began to dwell on William.

           
I was suddenly hit by a wave of loss, and unwelcome tears sprang to my eyes.
 
I scrubbed them away fiercely and ordered myself not to cry—I couldn't allow myself to give in to tears when I had to protect the house and my grandmother.

           
I closed my eyes tightly and concentrated on the tiny sounds in the house, but William crowded into my thoughts again so easily that I didn't have any chance of keeping him out.

           
William, where are you?
 
I thought.
 
I want to see you.
 
It hurts me to be apart from you
.

           
William, why did you leave me?

           
And that was really the important point.
 
William had left me—had vanished completely.
 
He had abandoned me, and he had never said a word to me before he'd disappeared.

           
According to Anton, William had gone back to Russia with Innokenti.
 
It was clear I meant nothing to him.

           
And yet, I still missed him.
 
I knew I still loved him.

           
Suddenly there was loud creak out in the hallway, and I looked around, startled.
 
I fumbled once more for my broomstick and lighter, berating myself for my inattention.
 
There was a second loud creak, and I flicked the lighter on, watching its tongue of flame flicker to life.
 
My heart began to hammer.

           
This is it
, I thought.
 
Get ready
.

           
But as before, the house settled back into silence, and my bedroom door remained closed.
 
Soon, all I could hear was the crackle from my lighter.

           
I allowed my finger to ease off the lighter's trigger, and the bright flame at the end was extinguished.
 
My room was plunged back into its greater gloom, and I felt the dark to be oppressive—I longed suddenly for daylight.

           
I wondered if it was possible for this night and this darkness to go on forever—could some supernatural element slow time so that dawn would never come?

           
I told myself I was just being paranoid, and I worked to slow my breathing and my pounding heart.

           
Once I was calm again, my thoughts began to wander—and they wandered right back to William.

           
This time I began to berate myself over him.

           
William knew you were in danger when he disappeared
, said a fierce voice in my head.
 
He left you to this.
 
He left you to darkness.
 
He left you to danger.
 
And you still love him
?

           
I closed my eyes, completing the darkness.

           
I thought only of William.

           
Even though I knew it probably shouldn't, thinking of him made me feel calmer.

           
I gave into the feeling and allowed myself to picture his face in every particular—the shade of his eyes, the slope of his brow, the line of his jaw.
 
I pictured his odd half-smile.
 
I felt peace grow within me, and my fear began to subside.
 
I knew that I would give up just about anything to see him one last time—even if he hated me.

           
I answered my own question.

           
Yes, I still love him.
 
Even if he left me to this
.

           
I tried to banish William then, to concentrate solely on the sounds in the house again—and the danger around me, but his image was persistent.

           
I decided to let him stay with me.

           
I imagined that he was in the dark beside me—and my fear that the house was going to be attacked began to fade.
 
I was still alone—I knew that, but somehow I felt different.
 
I could find strength in my love for William.

           
The night wore on.
 
There were more creaks, more alarms.
 
At one point I seemed to see GM in my bedroom.
 
She stared at me without saying anything, but there was reproach in her eyes.
 
Behind her stretched a forest of pure white trees.

           
GM turned and walked away.

           
I followed her, but she moved so quickly that I couldn't catch up with her.
 
I ran after her through the trees and soon found myself in a clearing.

           
GM had disappeared, but before me loomed a castle keep—a round stone tower of a building.

           
I felt a presence behind me, and I turned quickly.

           
A tall figure walked toward me, and for just a moment, I thought the figure was William.

           
I soon saw to my horror that it was Anton.

           
I ran toward the keep.

           
A door on the far side of the building stood open, and I plunged inside quickly.

           
I ran up a spiraling stone staircase until I found myself standing at the very top of the keep in the open air.

           
Anton soon appeared on the roof along with me.

           
I tried to run, but my feet suddenly refused to move.

           
The floor beneath me gave way, and I felt myself falling.

           
My eyes flew open, and I gasped for breath.
 
I was lying back against my pillows, clutching my broomstick, with all my other supplies scattered around me.
 
Sunlight was streaming into my room.
 
I glanced over at the candle on my nightstand.

           
It had gone out.

           
I sat up, alarmed.
 
I couldn't believe I had allowed myself to fall asleep.

           
I wondered in a panic if my sleep had been assisted—I knew that vampires had power over the human mind.

           
I dropped the broomstick and ran my hands over my neck.
 
My skin was smooth and unbroken, and I quickly examined my wrists and arms.
 
I seemed to be free of bite marks.
 
My thoughts flew to GM.
 
Had my falling asleep left her prey to night invaders?

           
As if in answer to my panicked thoughts, there was a gentle knock on my bedroom door.

           
A voice filtered through to me.
 
"Are you well, Katie?
 
It's not like you to sleep so late.
 
Katie?"

           
"GM, are you okay?" I asked.
 
She sounded all right, but I wasn't reassured.

           
The door opened and GM entered.
 
Her eyes opened in surprise when she saw me.

           
"GM, are you okay?" I said again.
 
She looked perfectly healthy, but I needed to hear her say the words.

           
"Yes, of course, I am okay."
 
She stepped closer.
 
"The question is, are you?"

           
She stood by my bed, surveying the candles, the matches, the towels, the broomstick, and all the other things I had scattered around me.

           
"Katie, what on earth are you doing with all of these things?"

           
I tried to come up with a reasonable explanation for my odd collection, but nothing came to me.

           
GM picked up the lantern.
 
"Is this why you were asking about my old lantern last night?
 
Because you wanted to place it in your bed?"

           
I tried to come up with a reason for my having the lantern, but I floundered again, unable to come up with a response.

           
GM's eyes darted to the grill lighter.
 
"You have my lighter, matches, towels.
 
You weren't planning on burning the house down, were you?"

           
I found my voice then.
 
"No, of course not.
 
No."

           
"Then what were you doing with all of this stuff?"

           
I realized that I could tell her at least part of the truth.

           
"I was afraid that Joshua Martin would attack the house at night.
 
I thought I could fight him off with these things."

           
GM sank onto the bed.
 
"Oh, Katie.
 
You poor child.
 
I hope you did not sit up all night."