TheSmallPrint (32 page)

“She’s asleep,” Turner said.

“She’s confused.
I’m
confused.”

Turner dropped a kiss on her head.

“I don’t know if she’s actually taken this in,” Catch said. “One minute I think she has, the next she seems convinced she’s making it up, that she’s lying in a coma, imagining this other life, imagining us.”

“That’s why she didn’t freak at the idea we’re a vampire and werewolf?”

“She wanted me to bite her.”

Turner caught Catch’s glance in the mirror. “And?”

“And nothing. I didn’t, but something’s not right. I sense when her heart pounds, I feel her pulse race, but I get the strange feeling there’s no blood running in her veins.”

“I think you’re right. I’m not sure I could have resisted biting her otherwise.”

“You didn’t resist me.”

Turner swallowed hard. “I’m not sorry.”

“Neither am I.”

Turner reached to grip Catch’s shoulder. “But I should have asked. It had been such a long time.”

“It’s like riding a bike.”

Turner laughed and repeated Catch’s phrase back to him. “You brought out the beast in me.” He released his shoulder and sat back to pull Matty closer.

“What the fuck are we going to do?” Catch asked.

“There’s something else I have to tell you. Another dimension to the problem of Matty.”

“What?”

“I was joined in the elevator by her aunt and uncle. They were on their way to complain about the fact Matty had been allowed visitors. I made a mistake. I should have put that other nurse in thrall.”

“What were they like?” Catch asked.

“Selfish excuses for humanity. A nurse told them about the blip in Matty’s level of consciousness, and though Bernard Strachan hid it quickly, I’m sure the news disappointed rather than delighted.”

“Oh fuck,” Catch muttered. “You think they want her dead?”

“At the moment, the money I paid for Milford Hall will be sitting in a bank account, held in trust by Strachan. If Matty dies, his wife gets all of it.”

“How much did you pay?”

“One and half million pounds.” Turner rubbed his cheek against Matty’s hair. “Question is—how greedy are they?”

“You mean will they wait or take matters into their own hands? Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” Catch slammed his hand on the steering wheel.

“Tomorrow night we have to take our Matty back to the hospital. We have to make this the best night we can.”

Turner saw Catch tense.

“No fucking way,” Catch snapped. “It won’t be our last night. I won’t let it.”

“But it might be my last night. If Gabriel comes, I want you to look after Matty.”

“I’m not leaving you to face him on your own. We don’t know if he’s out to murder you. What are you going to say if he asks you about those fucking diaries? I’m not sure anyone believed they’d been destroyed.” There was a long pause. “Were they?”

“I made copies.”

The car swerved, a horn blared and then Catch righted the vehicle. Matty stirred in Turner’s arms as he was flung to the side but didn’t wake.

“You fucking idiot,” Catch snapped. “Why the hell did you do that? Where are they?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Nothing.” Turner backtracked, relieved Catch was innocent. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you’d taken them. Only I don’t know where they are and I’m worried about Matty.”

“So am I.”

At least Catch dropped the book issue for now but probably only because Matty loomed large in his mind.

“It feels crazy having to convince her we’re what we say we are, so she’ll believe this is really happening,” Catch said.

“We have no choice. We have to unite her with her other half. It doesn’t seem possible she’ll wake until she does.”

“She could die. I don’t want her to take that chance.”

Turner’s jaw ticked. “It’s not up to you.”

“It’s not up to you either. And what did you mean about giving her blood?”

“You know what I mean.”

They didn’t speak another word the rest of the way back, but Turner thought plenty.

Chapter Twenty-One

Gabriel opened his eyes as the car slowed, caught in a line of traffic. “What’s going on?”

“There’s something happening up ahead,” Victor said.

“The signs say
Winterval
.” Dava snorted. “What the hell is that?”

“Pull over and ask someone,” Gabriel ordered.

A few moments later they had their answer. Milford Hall was holding its annual celebration of winter. Highly popular, raised lots of money for charity and went on through the night, dusk until dawn.

“Doesn’t sound like Turner’s sort of thing,” Dava said.

“Maybe he’s changed.” Gabriel stared out of the window. “Find somewhere inconspicuous to park and we’ll go find him.”

“The most inconspicuous place is with everyone else,” Victor said.

The motor home pulled in behind them at the bottom of a field packed with vehicles. Gabriel got out of the car and stretched. The air vibrated with the heavy thump of loud, bass-heavy music, the night air polluted by the scent of greasy food and diesel fumes spewing from noisy generators. In the distance he could see the shadowy shape of an imposing mansion and in front, a mass of multi-colored lights flashed and whirled against the moonlit sky.

Three men emerged from the motor home and came to join them. Pete walked behind Devlin, a shaven-headed black vampire, and Seth, a long-haired white vampire, both friends of Nick’s.

Gabriel had been taken aback by how much support remained for Purelight. In fact, he wasn’t quite sure he believed it, which was somewhat ironic. It took him back to his notion of a few days ago, that something bigger was on the move behind him, rolling in his wake, ready to sweep over him. He kept getting the urge to look over his shoulder.

For the time being, he’d be cautious who he trusted. Victor, a greedy wolf recommended by Devlin, would be reliable until someone offered him more money, but on the downside, the car reeked of the scent of were. As soon as Gabriel could replace him, he would. Pete was almost useless except for the fact he fed Dava.

She stroked Gabriel’s arm and he brushed her off. Dava pouted and fastened the buttons on her coat.

“There’s Plasmix in the motor home.” Gabriel looked each of the vampires in the eyes. “Top yourselves up. I don’t want any incidents.”

* * * * *

Matty heard gravel crunch under the car wheels and opened her eyes. They were back at Milford Hall and she was snuggled up against Turner on the backseat. Catch pulled up outside the garage and switched off the engine. Even before he’d swiveled round, Matty knew something was wrong. She unclipped her seat belt and pushed herself upright.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“Nothing,” they answered simultaneously.

She frowned. “What happened while I was sleeping?”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Turner said.

Which meant it was. It annoyed Matty that they thought they could cut her out like this.

“Fine. When you’ve sorted it out, come and find me.” Matty got out of the car, slammed the door as hard as she could and ran toward the festival.

Neither followed and disappointment stabbed at her gut. Not hard to figure out what was wrong. Whatever she was, it was something they couldn’t deal with. Matty brushed a tear from her eye. One last night was all she’d wanted. One night of fun and maybe then she’d have felt strong enough to face what lay in the hospital.

Heading away from the rides, the noise and the crowds, she cut through the copse at the edge of the meadow and made for the spot she’d loved as a child. Dominated by one large boulder that looked completely out of place, this place had been Matty’s playground. Her father told her the huge rock was called an erratic and thousands of years ago it had been transported miles from its origin by a river of ice. It was Matty’s fantasy island, her make-believe planet, her refuge when she’d been bad, angry or lonely. Things always seemed different here, a little oasis in a troubled world.

As Matty entered the clearing, she sighed. Hard to believe this didn’t belong to her anymore. She turned in a circle in the moonlight, arms outstretched, and imagined all her worries flying from her fingertips.

A few refused to take flight.

She’d never thought about dying young. Accidents happened to other people. She’d pictured herself growing old, playing with grandchildren, a white-haired husband at her side. Maybe two of them. Matty smiled briefly. She wished she’d thought to make a will, clearly stating she never wanted to be a DNR, that while she could still fight she wanted others to fight for her as well.

But when the end did come, she’d like her ashes scattered in this spot at night. Violet, pink, white and yellow flowers smothered the ground at her feet, wood sorrel blooming in the darkness. It was a strange little plant, a favorite of her father’s, its flowers closing up in the sun to form a sort of three-sided pyramid to shield petals from the light. The best time to see the flower was at night. The leaves, stems and flowers were edible with a sort of lemony flavor. Her father made her promise to look after these plants in particular, not to ever touch the land where they grew, but to let them have free reign. Now she’d have to ask Turner to do the same.

Matty picked one blue flower, threaded the stem into her hair and began the climb up onto the boulder. Halfway to the top, pain sank its claws into her chest and she struggled to hold on to the rock. Matty pressed herself against the rough surface and tried to draw air into her lungs. The pain intensified, moonlight faded from her vision and her world went black.

* * * * *

Turner clamped his hand on Catch’s shoulder to stop him going after Matty. “She needs time to think. Leave her alone.”

“You are such a dickhead,” Catch muttered. He got out of the car and slammed the door as hard as Matty had.

“And you’re not?” Turner snapped as he scrambled out and then slammed his door too.

“Well, that was very adult.” Catch snorted.

“I’m upset too.”

For a moment neither of them spoke.

“Love fucking sucks,” Catch whispered.

Yeah, it did, Turner thought.

“I can’t let her go. I can’t let you go,” Catch said. “How come my mates are the two most awkward fucking people in the world?”

Turner sighed. “Because only someone just as awkward would want them. Mates or not, we have to do the right thing here.”

“You make it sound like you want to let her go.” Catch glared at him.

Turner leaned against the car. “You know I don’t, but she’s unhappy.”

“Well, she is now. Christ, we just pummeled her with a series of body blows. Hey, Matty, guess what? You were hit by a train, a machine’s keeping you alive, oh and by the way, you’re virtually brain dead.” Catch took a deep breath. “Plus the one we can’t tell her. Your uncle wants you dead.” He groaned. “I know we can make her happy. We can look after her.” His voice cracked. “She’s ours.”

“For how long? If the Matty in the hospital dies, what happens to our Matty? These spasms of pain she gets, are they going to become more and more frequent until she’s in constant agony? Whether we like it or not, she needs to unite the two parts of her, but she’s the one who has to decide to do it.”

“Yeah, but you’ve already decided.”

“Her choice, not mine. But not in what I’m going to say now. I have a…bad feeling. I want you to leave here. Take her someplace safe. I don’t want her around when—”

Catch banged his fist on the roof of the car. “She asked us for one fucking night. We give her this night, make it the best night ever and we’ll talk tomorrow. And another thing, you can explain that comment about the books. What have you been up to?”

“Oh good, you’re back,” said the vicar as he ambled up to them. “They’re waiting for you to judge the cakes.” He handed Turner his keys. “Your effort raised one hundred pounds. Well done.”

Turner swallowed his guilt and smiled.

The vicar beckoned him. “Come along. No time to waste.”

“You’re coming with me,” Turner said, and grabbed Catch’s arm.

* * * * *

Matty came ’round, lying on the ground at the foot of the boulder. She pushed herself to a sitting position, relieved she hadn’t broken anything.
Maybe I can’t.
It didn’t seem possible for her to die—only hospital-Matty. Pointless sulking out here. Matty made her way back to the hall.

She stared at the twirling rides, listened to the screams of terrified delight and chewed her lip. Everything was too busy for her to be able to sneak on. If people moved through her or sat on her, it made her queasy. Catch and Turner had spoiled this night for her. She didn’t
know
what they’d argued about while she’d been sleeping but had to assume it was about her. Maybe she should have just let hospital-Matty drag her back into her body. Matty jumped out of the way as a conga line of figures in costume danced their way through the bustling crowd. She counted five men in red suits with long white beards and endless reindeer, all with flashing noses, and inexplicably, someone dressed as the Easter bunny.