Catherine Mesick's Blog, page 6
April 20, 2015
Cover Reveal for Dangerous Creatures!
Cover Reveal for Book 3, Dangerous Creatures!
Vampires are disappearing, and Katie is getting the blame...
Vampires are disappearing, and Katie is getting the blame...
August 21, 2014
Preview New Book, Dangerous Creatures
Hi Everyone,
Here's the first ten pages of my new novel, Dangerous Creatures (Book #3, Pure Series):
Dangerous Creatures
Chapter 1.
The dead travel fast.
The words were written on a sheet of paper that had been wrapped around a rock.
I looked up and down the street in the gathering gloom. Not only was the street completely deserted, but the neighborhood itself was quiet and still as if no one had stirred in a long time.
I'd been sitting in the living room, staring out the window, watching the sun sinking behind the houses across the street and waiting for William. I'd felt a strange softness in the evening, and a sense of peace settled over me that I hadn't felt in a long time. I felt as if I had no need to be afraid.
Though the stars had not yet come out, I'd seemed to see them before my eyes—both above me and below me. I'd felt myself sinking pleasantly into darkness.
There had been a sudden, sharp crack at the window, and I'd hurried out to see what it was.
As I looked around, a sensation stole over me that I had felt once before. I felt as if the silence around me was watchful—as if the very air were holding its breath, waiting to see what I would do. I hadn't known what the feeling had meant back then, but I knew what it meant now.
I shivered.
I looked at the note again. Of course, it was likely just a prank. Tonight was a night that was known for pranks, so there was really no reason for me to read any great significance into the words. I probably hadn't even been targeted particularly. I imagined that someone had simply thrown the rock at the closest house and then run off. There was no need for me to be worried. Things had been quiet.
But whoever had thrown the rock had disappeared quickly.
I was just turning to go back into the house, when a familiar car turned onto my street. I quickly folded up the note and pushed it into the pocket of my jeans.
The car slotted into place behind my grandmother's red sports car, and William got out. He was tall and lean and dark-haired, and any outside observer would have guessed him to be about eighteen or nineteen years old—but that guess would have been off by quite a bit.
As William walked up to me, he gave me the crooked half-smile that I loved so well.
"We're you waiting out here for me?"
I smiled and tried to push my uneasiness away. "Of course I was." I glanced down the street. "You didn't happen to see anyone walking—or maybe running—through the neighborhood on your way over here, did you?"
William glanced at me sharply. "No. Is something wrong?"
"No—I just—no. Someone threw a rock at our window, and it startled me. That's all."
I didn't see any point in mentioning the note—I was sure it was nothing. It had to be nothing.
William glanced toward the house. "Are you ready to go? Or should we stop in and say hello to your grandmother?"
"We'd better tell her we're going," I said. "Otherwise, she'll think I've been kidnapped by you."
"That's a joke, right?"
"Sort of."
William looked at me closely. "Are you sure nothing's wrong? You look rattled."
"No—nothing's wrong. It's just that—I left the front door open. I really should have closed it."
I turned quickly and went into the house with William following me.
GM met us in the hall—a tall slim figure with folded arms. Her long silver hair was tied back in a braid, and the silver cross she always wore stood out starkly against her black sweater.
"So, you're here now, are you?" GM somehow always seemed to grow more formidable whenever William was around.
"Yes, Mrs. Rost." William, who could look quite formidable himself at times, often seemed less so when confronted by GM.
GM sighed. "Well, I hope the two of you will have a good time at the carnival."
"Thank you, Mrs. Rost."
"And don't be out too late. I will be waiting for Katie's return."
"Yes, Mrs. Rost," William said.
"Well, you may go now. And don't do anything I wouldn't do."
"Yes, Mrs. Rost. Of course not."
"GM, please," I said. "This is starting to feel like an interrogation."
GM waved a hand. "I already said you may go."
"We'll see you later," I said, giving GM a kiss on the cheek. "And you don't need to worry. Nothing awful is going to happen. Really."
GM gave me a wry look, and then walked with us to the door. As we went out, she closed it firmly behind us.
"Sorry about that," I said. "I always feel bad subjecting you to GM's—I don't even know what you'd call it. She just always seems to be in a bad mood whenever you're around."
"It's all right. She isn't entirely to blame for her attitude toward me."
"I know," I said. "I just wish things could be different."
William gave me a smile. "I learned long ago that there was no point in dwelling on wishes."
He turned toward his car.
"William, wait," I said. "Do you mind if we walk instead of driving?"
William looked surprised. "You want to walk? It'll be dark soon, and the way over there isn't exactly well lit."
"I know," I said. "I just don't feel as if I can sit still right now. And you can see in the dark, can't you?"
"Okay," William said. "If that's what you want, that's what we'll do."
As we walked down the street, William kept glancing over at me, but he said nothing.
Before long we had plunged into the neighboring woods on our way to Hywel's Plaza. In the winter months, the plaza was largely taken up by an outdoor skating rink, but in the warmer months, the plaza was used for public gatherings—concerts, farmers' markets, art fairs. In this particular case, the plaza was hosting the Black Moon Carnival—which was actually a fundraiser for Elspeth's Grove High School. There would be food and games and music, and I'd heard that the mayor was going to dedicate a new statue. There would probably be quite a few people in costume, too. Black Moon Night was also a local festival apart from the school fundraiser—it was like our own personal Halloween.
As William and I walked through the trees, I was reminded unpleasantly of the day back in November when we had met two unexpected—and unwelcome—visitors in these very woods. Those visitors had come with a warning for me.
Though I tried to suppress it, a shiver ran through me.
William reached out to take my hand, and I was comforted by the warmth and strength of his grasp. But even though William was by my side, I was still uneasy, and I was deeply relieved when we finally spotted the lights of the carnival up ahead.
We broke free of the trees.
As I looked out over the carnival, my mood was lightened by just how bright and cheerful everything was. Strings of lights crisscrossed the entire plaza, creating what looked like a canopy of stars. Under the canopy, a small maze of booths crowded up against a larger-than-life straw figure of a witch, a colorful carousel, and a stage. A large object sat by the stage under an enormous canvas tarp, and I figured that that was the new statue, ready for its unveiling. I could see a crowd of people milling around—some of them in masks and costumes—and music and laughter floated up to me.
I felt myself relax even further—this was just an ordinary Sunday night in a small town. I very genuinely had nothing to worry about.
As William and I walked into the maze of the carnival, I heard a splash, and I turned to look. One of the booths was actually a dunk tank, and the hapless man on the stool had just been dropped into the water by a good shot.
William gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "What do you want to do first?"
"Let's just walk around," I said. "Maybe something fun will jump out at us."
The aisles between the booths were narrow, and with the crowd of people, the flow of traffic was slow. As we passed a booth that sold candy apples, William and I crossed paths with a brown-skinned girl with curly black hair, and a tall, pale boy with brown hair that was falling in his eyes—my best friend, Charisse, and her boyfriend, Branden. The two of them were headed the opposite way, and though Charisse saw me and smiled, and Branden nodded at me, neither of them made any effort to stop and talk—nor did they acknowledge William.
Charisse turned her face resolutely forward, and Branden took his cue from her. The crowd eased and they both moved on.
I looked up at William. "They don't mean anything by it."
William appeared unruffled. "I know. They aren't to be blamed for the way they react any more than your grandmother is. They really can't help it."
I was glad that William understood, but at the same time, I wished he didn't have to. I wished we could be like any of the normal couples that had come to the carnival tonight. I wished we actually were what we appeared to be—two ordinary high school students out having a good time.
We continued on through the carnival, and I spotted Irina Neverov, who was out with her new boyfriend, Terrence. Terrance was new in more ways than one—he had just transferred to our school, and he was already a standout on the track team—even though it was the tail end of the season. There were rumors that he was a shoo-in for a starting position on the football team in the fall, too. He'd just arrived, and he was already a star.
Irina and Terrence didn't stop to talk to us, but that wasn't so unusual. Irina and I had been friends once long ago. But the passing years and her love for Simon Krstic—who had also had a crush on me—had driven a wedge between us. There was nothing between Simon and me, and Irina herself had clearly moved on, but even so some constraint still remained between us.
Irina's friends Bryony and Annamaria tagged along behind Irina and Terrence. Bryony gave me a long look and seemed to be on the verge of speaking to me, but ultimately, she too decided not to stop to talk.
William and I continued on our way, and we were just passing through an area that was full of game booths, when I heard someone call my name.
"Katie! Katie Wickliff! Katie, over here!"
I turned to see the familiar blond figure of Simon Krstic—he was manning one of the games. He smiled when he realized that I'd noticed him, and he waved me toward his booth.
I glanced up at William. "Do you want to go over?"
"Why not? At least someone wants to talk to us."
Simon broke into a grin as we reached his booth.
"Hey, Katie."
He gave William a brief nod.
I looked around the booth. There were several rows of multicolored balloons affixed to the far wall, and there was a row of stuffed animals and other trinkets sitting on a shelf above the balloons. Simon appeared to be running one of those games in which the player threw a dart at a balloon to win a prize.
"So how about it, Katie?" Simon asked. "Would you like to give it a try? It's for a good cause."
"What are the rules exactly?"
"You get three darts for a dollar. If you break a balloon, you get a prize."
"That doesn't sound too hard," I said. "Set me up."
But three dollars later, I still hadn't been able to successfully make contact with any of the balloons.
William seemed amused. "Would you like me to try?"
"Katie doesn't need your help," Simon said, his tone unexpectedly sharp. "She's doing just fine on her own."
"I know Katie doesn't need my help," William replied mildly. "I didn't mean anything by it."
"Of course you didn't," I said. "And I'm not offended. Thanks, Simon, for letting me play. I think this game just isn't for me." I glanced up at William. "Maybe we should move on to the next game."
I began to move away.
"You know, I think I would like to give it a try."
I turned back. William was staring fixedly at something on the prize shelf.
"Katie said she's not interested in the game anymore, pal," Simon said. "So why don't you just move along?"
"If you want the truth," William said, "it's not for Katie. It's for me."
Simon smirked. "I get it. You're into stuffed animals. I bet you have a whole collection of them at home."
"Something like that. Can I get my darts now?"
"Anything you want, pal."
Simon placed three darts on the counter, and William threw each one in quick succession, breaking three balloons.
"Oh, very impressive," Simon said, clapping slowly. "So what do you want? It's the pink bunny holding the big red heart, isn't it? I bet you had your eye on that the whole time."
"Actually," William said, "I'd like that green stone on that long chain."
Simon raised his eyebrows. "So you're into jewelry? I should have guessed."
He reached over the shelf and pulled a necklace off of a nail.
"I'd like to say you have good taste," Simon said, holding the chain up, "but this has to be one of the ugliest things I've ever seen. I suppose you've got just the outfit to wear it with."
"Thanks," William said shortly as he accepted the necklace.
"Would you like to try again?" Simon asked. "We've got a lovely pair of blue plastic earrings here. I'm sure they'd bring out the color in your eyes."
"Simon, stop," I said. "That's enough."
Simon shrugged. "I'm just trying to give the man what he wants."
"Let's go, William," I said.
William was turning the necklace over in his fingers abstractedly, and he didn't even look up when I pulled him away from Simon's booth.
A few stalls away, there was a gap just big enough for the two of us to fit into, and I guided William out of the walkway into it.
"So what's going on?" I asked. "Why did you want that necklace so much?"
William handed his prize to me. "Do you know what this is? By that I mean, do you know what this is made out of?"
I looked the necklace over. The stone was thick and green and slightly cloudy in color. It was suspended from a black metal chain, and it was set into an intricately worked piece of the same black metal.
"I don't know what this is," I replied. "But I'm afraid I have to agree with Simon—this necklace isn't especially attractive. The stone looks like it's seen better days."
"That unattractive stone is actually an emerald," William said.
"An emerald?" I said. "I thought they were—shinier—than this."
"They are if they're taken care of properly. And one this size would be worth quite a lot. The chain and the setting are both silver—they're just tarnished. This is an antique piece of jewelry that's been moldering somewhere for quite a long time."
"But you aren't interested in this as an antique, are you?" I handed the necklace back to William. "There's another reason this necklace attracted your attention."
"Yes, there's another reason," William said, turning the stone over in his fingers again. "I can't understand what this is doing here."
"So what's so special about it?"
William looked up at me. "Are you sure nothing was troubling you earlier? Did anything strange happen to you today? Anything at all?"
I thought about the note, but I still hesitated to mention it.
"Why are you worried? Is the necklace something dangerous?"
William looked back down at the necklace and didn't reply.
Just then, I heard a brass band strike up, and William turned to look.
"Sounds like they're getting ready to dedicate the statue," he said. "Do you want to go over and watch?"
"William," I said, "what about the necklace?"
William shook his head. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what this is, but I think I've seen something like it before. There's no cause for alarm yet."
Here's the first ten pages of my new novel, Dangerous Creatures (Book #3, Pure Series):
Dangerous Creatures
Chapter 1.
The dead travel fast.
The words were written on a sheet of paper that had been wrapped around a rock.
I looked up and down the street in the gathering gloom. Not only was the street completely deserted, but the neighborhood itself was quiet and still as if no one had stirred in a long time.
I'd been sitting in the living room, staring out the window, watching the sun sinking behind the houses across the street and waiting for William. I'd felt a strange softness in the evening, and a sense of peace settled over me that I hadn't felt in a long time. I felt as if I had no need to be afraid.
Though the stars had not yet come out, I'd seemed to see them before my eyes—both above me and below me. I'd felt myself sinking pleasantly into darkness.
There had been a sudden, sharp crack at the window, and I'd hurried out to see what it was.
As I looked around, a sensation stole over me that I had felt once before. I felt as if the silence around me was watchful—as if the very air were holding its breath, waiting to see what I would do. I hadn't known what the feeling had meant back then, but I knew what it meant now.
I shivered.
I looked at the note again. Of course, it was likely just a prank. Tonight was a night that was known for pranks, so there was really no reason for me to read any great significance into the words. I probably hadn't even been targeted particularly. I imagined that someone had simply thrown the rock at the closest house and then run off. There was no need for me to be worried. Things had been quiet.
But whoever had thrown the rock had disappeared quickly.
I was just turning to go back into the house, when a familiar car turned onto my street. I quickly folded up the note and pushed it into the pocket of my jeans.
The car slotted into place behind my grandmother's red sports car, and William got out. He was tall and lean and dark-haired, and any outside observer would have guessed him to be about eighteen or nineteen years old—but that guess would have been off by quite a bit.
As William walked up to me, he gave me the crooked half-smile that I loved so well.
"We're you waiting out here for me?"
I smiled and tried to push my uneasiness away. "Of course I was." I glanced down the street. "You didn't happen to see anyone walking—or maybe running—through the neighborhood on your way over here, did you?"
William glanced at me sharply. "No. Is something wrong?"
"No—I just—no. Someone threw a rock at our window, and it startled me. That's all."
I didn't see any point in mentioning the note—I was sure it was nothing. It had to be nothing.
William glanced toward the house. "Are you ready to go? Or should we stop in and say hello to your grandmother?"
"We'd better tell her we're going," I said. "Otherwise, she'll think I've been kidnapped by you."
"That's a joke, right?"
"Sort of."
William looked at me closely. "Are you sure nothing's wrong? You look rattled."
"No—nothing's wrong. It's just that—I left the front door open. I really should have closed it."
I turned quickly and went into the house with William following me.
GM met us in the hall—a tall slim figure with folded arms. Her long silver hair was tied back in a braid, and the silver cross she always wore stood out starkly against her black sweater.
"So, you're here now, are you?" GM somehow always seemed to grow more formidable whenever William was around.
"Yes, Mrs. Rost." William, who could look quite formidable himself at times, often seemed less so when confronted by GM.
GM sighed. "Well, I hope the two of you will have a good time at the carnival."
"Thank you, Mrs. Rost."
"And don't be out too late. I will be waiting for Katie's return."
"Yes, Mrs. Rost," William said.
"Well, you may go now. And don't do anything I wouldn't do."
"Yes, Mrs. Rost. Of course not."
"GM, please," I said. "This is starting to feel like an interrogation."
GM waved a hand. "I already said you may go."
"We'll see you later," I said, giving GM a kiss on the cheek. "And you don't need to worry. Nothing awful is going to happen. Really."
GM gave me a wry look, and then walked with us to the door. As we went out, she closed it firmly behind us.
"Sorry about that," I said. "I always feel bad subjecting you to GM's—I don't even know what you'd call it. She just always seems to be in a bad mood whenever you're around."
"It's all right. She isn't entirely to blame for her attitude toward me."
"I know," I said. "I just wish things could be different."
William gave me a smile. "I learned long ago that there was no point in dwelling on wishes."
He turned toward his car.
"William, wait," I said. "Do you mind if we walk instead of driving?"
William looked surprised. "You want to walk? It'll be dark soon, and the way over there isn't exactly well lit."
"I know," I said. "I just don't feel as if I can sit still right now. And you can see in the dark, can't you?"
"Okay," William said. "If that's what you want, that's what we'll do."
As we walked down the street, William kept glancing over at me, but he said nothing.
Before long we had plunged into the neighboring woods on our way to Hywel's Plaza. In the winter months, the plaza was largely taken up by an outdoor skating rink, but in the warmer months, the plaza was used for public gatherings—concerts, farmers' markets, art fairs. In this particular case, the plaza was hosting the Black Moon Carnival—which was actually a fundraiser for Elspeth's Grove High School. There would be food and games and music, and I'd heard that the mayor was going to dedicate a new statue. There would probably be quite a few people in costume, too. Black Moon Night was also a local festival apart from the school fundraiser—it was like our own personal Halloween.
As William and I walked through the trees, I was reminded unpleasantly of the day back in November when we had met two unexpected—and unwelcome—visitors in these very woods. Those visitors had come with a warning for me.
Though I tried to suppress it, a shiver ran through me.
William reached out to take my hand, and I was comforted by the warmth and strength of his grasp. But even though William was by my side, I was still uneasy, and I was deeply relieved when we finally spotted the lights of the carnival up ahead.
We broke free of the trees.
As I looked out over the carnival, my mood was lightened by just how bright and cheerful everything was. Strings of lights crisscrossed the entire plaza, creating what looked like a canopy of stars. Under the canopy, a small maze of booths crowded up against a larger-than-life straw figure of a witch, a colorful carousel, and a stage. A large object sat by the stage under an enormous canvas tarp, and I figured that that was the new statue, ready for its unveiling. I could see a crowd of people milling around—some of them in masks and costumes—and music and laughter floated up to me.
I felt myself relax even further—this was just an ordinary Sunday night in a small town. I very genuinely had nothing to worry about.
As William and I walked into the maze of the carnival, I heard a splash, and I turned to look. One of the booths was actually a dunk tank, and the hapless man on the stool had just been dropped into the water by a good shot.
William gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "What do you want to do first?"
"Let's just walk around," I said. "Maybe something fun will jump out at us."
The aisles between the booths were narrow, and with the crowd of people, the flow of traffic was slow. As we passed a booth that sold candy apples, William and I crossed paths with a brown-skinned girl with curly black hair, and a tall, pale boy with brown hair that was falling in his eyes—my best friend, Charisse, and her boyfriend, Branden. The two of them were headed the opposite way, and though Charisse saw me and smiled, and Branden nodded at me, neither of them made any effort to stop and talk—nor did they acknowledge William.
Charisse turned her face resolutely forward, and Branden took his cue from her. The crowd eased and they both moved on.
I looked up at William. "They don't mean anything by it."
William appeared unruffled. "I know. They aren't to be blamed for the way they react any more than your grandmother is. They really can't help it."
I was glad that William understood, but at the same time, I wished he didn't have to. I wished we could be like any of the normal couples that had come to the carnival tonight. I wished we actually were what we appeared to be—two ordinary high school students out having a good time.
We continued on through the carnival, and I spotted Irina Neverov, who was out with her new boyfriend, Terrence. Terrance was new in more ways than one—he had just transferred to our school, and he was already a standout on the track team—even though it was the tail end of the season. There were rumors that he was a shoo-in for a starting position on the football team in the fall, too. He'd just arrived, and he was already a star.
Irina and Terrence didn't stop to talk to us, but that wasn't so unusual. Irina and I had been friends once long ago. But the passing years and her love for Simon Krstic—who had also had a crush on me—had driven a wedge between us. There was nothing between Simon and me, and Irina herself had clearly moved on, but even so some constraint still remained between us.
Irina's friends Bryony and Annamaria tagged along behind Irina and Terrence. Bryony gave me a long look and seemed to be on the verge of speaking to me, but ultimately, she too decided not to stop to talk.
William and I continued on our way, and we were just passing through an area that was full of game booths, when I heard someone call my name.
"Katie! Katie Wickliff! Katie, over here!"
I turned to see the familiar blond figure of Simon Krstic—he was manning one of the games. He smiled when he realized that I'd noticed him, and he waved me toward his booth.
I glanced up at William. "Do you want to go over?"
"Why not? At least someone wants to talk to us."
Simon broke into a grin as we reached his booth.
"Hey, Katie."
He gave William a brief nod.
I looked around the booth. There were several rows of multicolored balloons affixed to the far wall, and there was a row of stuffed animals and other trinkets sitting on a shelf above the balloons. Simon appeared to be running one of those games in which the player threw a dart at a balloon to win a prize.
"So how about it, Katie?" Simon asked. "Would you like to give it a try? It's for a good cause."
"What are the rules exactly?"
"You get three darts for a dollar. If you break a balloon, you get a prize."
"That doesn't sound too hard," I said. "Set me up."
But three dollars later, I still hadn't been able to successfully make contact with any of the balloons.
William seemed amused. "Would you like me to try?"
"Katie doesn't need your help," Simon said, his tone unexpectedly sharp. "She's doing just fine on her own."
"I know Katie doesn't need my help," William replied mildly. "I didn't mean anything by it."
"Of course you didn't," I said. "And I'm not offended. Thanks, Simon, for letting me play. I think this game just isn't for me." I glanced up at William. "Maybe we should move on to the next game."
I began to move away.
"You know, I think I would like to give it a try."
I turned back. William was staring fixedly at something on the prize shelf.
"Katie said she's not interested in the game anymore, pal," Simon said. "So why don't you just move along?"
"If you want the truth," William said, "it's not for Katie. It's for me."
Simon smirked. "I get it. You're into stuffed animals. I bet you have a whole collection of them at home."
"Something like that. Can I get my darts now?"
"Anything you want, pal."
Simon placed three darts on the counter, and William threw each one in quick succession, breaking three balloons.
"Oh, very impressive," Simon said, clapping slowly. "So what do you want? It's the pink bunny holding the big red heart, isn't it? I bet you had your eye on that the whole time."
"Actually," William said, "I'd like that green stone on that long chain."
Simon raised his eyebrows. "So you're into jewelry? I should have guessed."
He reached over the shelf and pulled a necklace off of a nail.
"I'd like to say you have good taste," Simon said, holding the chain up, "but this has to be one of the ugliest things I've ever seen. I suppose you've got just the outfit to wear it with."
"Thanks," William said shortly as he accepted the necklace.
"Would you like to try again?" Simon asked. "We've got a lovely pair of blue plastic earrings here. I'm sure they'd bring out the color in your eyes."
"Simon, stop," I said. "That's enough."
Simon shrugged. "I'm just trying to give the man what he wants."
"Let's go, William," I said.
William was turning the necklace over in his fingers abstractedly, and he didn't even look up when I pulled him away from Simon's booth.
A few stalls away, there was a gap just big enough for the two of us to fit into, and I guided William out of the walkway into it.
"So what's going on?" I asked. "Why did you want that necklace so much?"
William handed his prize to me. "Do you know what this is? By that I mean, do you know what this is made out of?"
I looked the necklace over. The stone was thick and green and slightly cloudy in color. It was suspended from a black metal chain, and it was set into an intricately worked piece of the same black metal.
"I don't know what this is," I replied. "But I'm afraid I have to agree with Simon—this necklace isn't especially attractive. The stone looks like it's seen better days."
"That unattractive stone is actually an emerald," William said.
"An emerald?" I said. "I thought they were—shinier—than this."
"They are if they're taken care of properly. And one this size would be worth quite a lot. The chain and the setting are both silver—they're just tarnished. This is an antique piece of jewelry that's been moldering somewhere for quite a long time."
"But you aren't interested in this as an antique, are you?" I handed the necklace back to William. "There's another reason this necklace attracted your attention."
"Yes, there's another reason," William said, turning the stone over in his fingers again. "I can't understand what this is doing here."
"So what's so special about it?"
William looked up at me. "Are you sure nothing was troubling you earlier? Did anything strange happen to you today? Anything at all?"
I thought about the note, but I still hesitated to mention it.
"Why are you worried? Is the necklace something dangerous?"
William looked back down at the necklace and didn't reply.
Just then, I heard a brass band strike up, and William turned to look.
"Sounds like they're getting ready to dedicate the statue," he said. "Do you want to go over and watch?"
"William," I said, "what about the necklace?"
William shook his head. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what this is, but I think I've seen something like it before. There's no cause for alarm yet."
February 8, 2013
Chapter 1, Pure
Hi everyone! I'm busy working on Book 3 in the Pure Series, Dangerous Creatures. In the meantime, I thought I'd post the first chapter of Book 1, Pure.
Chapter 1.
I leaned my forehead against the dark window, welcoming the feel of the cool glass against my feverish skin.
I could feel the night calling to me, though I didn't exactly know what I meant by that. It had been happening more often lately—it was a strange tugging on my mind.
Something was pulling me out into the dark.
In an unguarded moment, my grandmother had told me that my mother had had visions. The way the night called to me, I wondered if this feeling was the beginning of a vision. I wished I could talk to my mother. I'd been wishing for that more and more often lately.
I turned away from the window and picked up the picture that always sat next to my bed. In the picture, a man with curly brown hair and a pale, blond woman smiled as they kneeled on either side of a laughing, fair-haired girl of five. The inscription on the back was hidden by the frame, but I knew well what it said. In GM's busy scrawl were the words Daniel, Katie, Nadya.
My father, me, my mother.
Though the memories were faint, I did remember those early days in Russia. I remembered the big apple tree and the roses that grew at our house. I remembered playing with my red-haired cousin, Odette.
I remembered, too, the day GM had taken the picture. Little had she known then that her son-in-law and her daughter would be dead soon afterward.
My father had died first in an accident in the mountains. My mother died just a few weeks later of a fever. GM had moved us to the United States shortly after that. We'd been here for eleven years now, and my old life was beyond my reach for good.
I set the picture down.
The darkness continued to call to me, and I tried to force my mind back to reality—back to what was normal and safe and unrelated to the unknown out in the dark.
I had school tomorrow and a quiz in English. I had studied some, but I still needed to sleep to be sure of doing well. And I would see Simon tomorrow. His presence was always calming.
I felt a sudden, sharp tug on my mind, and I was seized by an irrational desire to run out into the night—and to keep running until I found the source of the summons.
I closed my eyes and willed the feeling away.
After a moment, the night calling began to subside. I concentrated harder, pushing it further away from me. In another few minutes, the feeling was gone entirely. Relief flooded through me.
I was free.
I climbed into bed and turned out the light.
I was just drifting off to sleep when I was jolted wide-awake by the sound of a car tearing down our street. The car screeched to a halt somewhere below my window, and then turned sharply into our driveway.
I sat up. I heard the muffled slam of two car doors outside, and I heard GM, who usually kept late hours, hurrying toward the door.
I got out of bed and fumbled in the dark to find a robe. I was puzzled—who could possibly have come to see us in the middle of the night?
As I hurried out of my room, I heard a heavy pounding on the front door, followed by a woman's cry.
"Anna! Anna Rost! Annushka! Open the door!"
I froze. Only GM's oldest friends called her Annushka—and there were precious few of those.
I heard GM quickly unbolt the door and open it.
"Galina!" GM shouted in shock. Her voice rose even higher. "Aleksandr? Is that you, Aleksandr? How tall you are! I scarcely would have recognized you."
I wished I could see who was at the door, but I knew that if I went downstairs, GM would just order me back to my room. GM clearly recognized her visitors, and they were clearly people she had known back in Russia.
And GM never allowed me to get involved in anything that had to do with the past.
I crept to the top of the stairs but remained in the shadows—the better to hear without being seen.
"Annushka!" Galina cried. She had a heavy Russian accent—much heavier than GM's. "Annushka! I had scarcely allowed myself to believe that we'd actually found you! Oh, Annushka! After all these years!"
"Hush, Galina, hush," GM hissed. "You'll wake my granddaughter. Come in. Quickly, now."
I could hear the clack of a woman's footsteps in the hall, followed by a man's heavier tread. The door was closed and the bolt reset.
GM led her visitors down the hall to the kitchen.
I tiptoed down the stairs and sat on the bottom step. I wouldn't be able to see into the kitchen from my perch without leaning over the banister, but I knew from experience that I would be able to hear.
GM's voice floated down the hall to me. "Since you're here, Galina," she said, "you and Aleksandr may as well have a seat."
I heard chairs scraping on the kitchen floor.
"You're not entirely happy to see us, are you, Annushka?" Galina asked.
"I am happy to see you," GM said stiffly. "I am not happy about what it is that you bring with you."
"And what is that?" Galina asked sharply.
"Superstition," GM said wearily. "I have a feeling that this conversation is going to be difficult. However, we may as well try to be civilized. May I offer you both a cup of tea?"
"Yes, thank you, Annushka," Galina said.
I heard water running as a kettle was filled.
A moment later, I heard GM sit down at the table again. "I suppose you have a good reason for storming my house in the middle of the night?"
"Annushka, we need your help," Galina said urgently.
"Then why didn't you just call?" GM asked angrily. "Why fly all the way here from Russia? You did come from Russia, didn't you?"
"Yes, we did."
GM snorted. "Ridiculous. Again, I say, why didn't you just call?"
I figured that everyone in the kitchen was too absorbed in the conversation to notice me, so I risked a look over the banister. GM was sitting with her back to me, and I could see that she had pulled her long silver hair into a ponytail that flowed like silk down her back. She was resting her elbows on the kitchen table as she regarded her visitors.
Facing GM was a woman who was young enough to be her daughter. She was blond, and she wore a nondescript beige coat with brightly colored mittens. Next to her was a young man who seemed to be in his early twenties. He was wearing an olive-green military-style coat, and his hair was an odd shade of brown—sort of a cinnamon color. There was a strong family resemblance between the two of them. I guessed that Galina and Aleksandr were mother and son.
Aleksandr must have felt my eyes on him, for he transferred his gaze from GM to me.
I felt a flash of panic as Aleksandr's eyes met mine, and for just an instant, a feeling of strangeness—something wildly foreign—washed over me. I quickly pulled my head back behind the banister.
I froze, waiting to hear if Aleksandr would tell GM that he had seen me.
But Aleksandr did not say a word, and silence settled on the kitchen. I figured my reaction to his gaze had simply been nerves. I relaxed.
"Why didn't I just call you?" Galina said at last, breaking the silence. "I feared you would not listen. I feared you would hang up on me. Was I wrong about that?"
GM did not reply.
"I tried to keep in contact with you," Galina said mournfully. "You didn't answer any of my letters or phone calls."
"I didn't answer you," GM said, "because you wanted to involve my granddaughter in your nonsense. You wanted to make her believe that nightmares are real."
"I wanted to teach her," Galina replied angrily.
"So that's what this is all about then?" GM asked, equally angry. "You, in your great wisdom, have decided that the time has come for you to drag my granddaughter into your world of darkness and ignorance?"
"I did not choose the time, Annushka," Galina said. "It was chosen for me. I feared something like this would happen, and if I'd been working with Ekaterina all the time, maybe we could have prevented this."
I was startled to hear Galina call me by my Russian name—no one ever did that—it was almost as if the name weren't even mine. To my family I had always been Katie—my English father had been responsible for that.
"I don't want to hear your nonsense, Galina," GM said curtly.
"Annushka, you have to listen!" Galina cried. "He's free! You know whom I mean—"
"You will not speak that name in my house!" GM shouted.
Just then the kettle began to whistle, and I jumped.
I heard GM get up, and the whistling soon stopped. There were other noises as GM clattered around, getting the tea ready.
No one spoke.
"I am sorry," Galina said softly, after some time had passed.
I heard GM's chair scrape as she sat down again.
"I will not discuss this if it upsets you," Galina added.
"You don't believe in the supernatural, do you, Mrs. Rost?" Aleksandr asked.
GM snorted. "The mischievous spirits and the vampires? No, I do not. Those are just stories designed to scare people—tales about the supernatural are nothing more than a way to spread fear."
"They aren't all mischievous spirits," Aleksandr said lightly. "They say the Leshi is quite a good fellow. Though you make an excellent point about fear—there are darker things than vampires in Krov."
"You are too young to believe in such foolishness," GM said. "Why can't any of you from the old village have a normal conversation? Look at me. I started over here. I lead a normal life now. Can't you do the same?"
"I heard you are a graphic designer now," Galina said.
"Yes, I am," GM replied.
"I don't even know what that is," Galina said—there was a note of wistfulness in her voice.
"There's so much that you miss," GM replied in a rush. "How are you doing, Galina? How are you really? Are you happy? You know that in my heart I miss you. And don't you want good things for your son? How about you, Aleksandr? How are you?"
"Still unmarried. Ask my mother," Aleksandr said in amusement.
"Shut your mouth, Aleksandr," Galina snapped, her tone unexpectedly sharp. "Don't be a fool."
"Galina, why don't the two of you move somewhere else?" GM asked.
"We can't leave—"
GM broke in hurriedly. "I don't mean leave Russia. I mean leave the village—leave tiny little Krov. Move to Moscow. Or another big city. Russia is such a beautiful country. You don't have to stay in that dark, tiny corner of it. Move some place where there is life—where there are new things."
"Though you will not admit it," Galina said, "you know why I can't leave."
Silence settled on the kitchen once again.
"Annushka, there are lights on at the Mstislav mansion," Galina said after a time, her voice low and edged with fear. "The house has been deserted for a long time. You know when that house was last occupied—it was eleven years ago."
"Perhaps his son has decided to take over the place," GM said evenly. "It would be nice for someone to sweep out the cobwebs. It was a grand old mansion, and it should be restored to its former beauty. The house itself certainly never did anything wrong."
"They opened the old airfield two weeks ago and began fitting up a plane," Galina said quickly. "That's what made us decide to come here."
GM was unimpressed. "So? It would be nice for everyone in the area to have a proper airfield. It might encourage good things."
"Annushka," Galina said urgently, "his house is lit up again. And it was his plane they were working on. You know the one I mean—he bought it when he first amassed his fortune."
"I saw his plane myself," Aleksandr interjected. "I believe he reached the U.S. ahead of us. It took us time to get our travel documents in order."
"Quiet, Aleksandr!" Galina snapped. "Annushka, please. It's him. He is free. And he will seek out—"
"Galina, I warned you not to bring this up." GM's voice was sharp.
"Annushka!" Galina cried despairingly.
"He's dead, Galina," GM said sternly. "Enough!"
"He's returned!" Galina cried.
"Nonsense!" GM replied angrily.
"Annushka! How can you say that? He killed your daughter!"
A chair scraped back violently.
"Superstition killed my daughter!" GM shouted.
"Annushka! You must listen!" Galina wailed.
"Get out of my house!" GM cried.
I heard porcelain shattering against a wall, and two more chairs scraped back.
I jumped to my feet.
I watched in shock as Galina and Aleksandr ran down the hall to the front door. GM came running after them.
Galina fumbled with the locks, and then she and Aleksandr escaped out into the night. GM ran after them.
I quickly followed.
The cold night air cut through my thin nightclothes as I hurried down the concrete driveway in front of the house.
GM was standing in the middle of the driveway, breathing hard. Strands of silver had worked their way free of her ponytail and settled in scattered array around her head, glinting softly in the moonlight.
Galina and Aleksandr jumped into a car that sat just behind GM's own. The engine roared to life, and the car took off, tires screeching.
I watched the car's red taillights disappear into the night, and then I glanced over at GM—I had never seen her so angry.
"GM, what's going on?" I asked.
GM whirled around. She stared hard at me for a moment and then looked down at the silver cross she always wore. She wrapped her fingers around it and gripped it tightly.
"I'm sorry," GM said quietly. "I wanted to spare you all of that. I never should have let them in."
"Are you all right?" I asked. "Who were those people? Why did the woman—Galina?—why did she say a man killed my mother? I thought she died of a fever."
Anger blazed in GM's eyes. "Your mother diddie of a fever. Galina doesn't know what she's talking about."
GM's expression softened as she continued to look at me. "Come back into the house, Katie. It's too cold out here."
GM put her arm around my shoulders and guided me back toward the gold rectangle of light that streamed out of the still-open door.
I stopped suddenly. I'd thought for just a moment that I had seen a tall figure standing in the shadows near the house. I blinked and looked again.
The figure was gone.
"Is something wrong?" GM asked, looking around as if she feared that Galina and Aleksandr had returned.
"No, it's nothing. I thought I saw something, but it's gone now."
GM steered me firmly into the house and shut and locked the door. Then she guided me into the kitchen. "How about a hot drink?"
I looked around the room. Three of the kitchen chairs were standing awkwardly askew. On the kitchen table were two of GM's blue-and-white china cups. One of the cups lay on its side, its contents spilled on the table—a brown puddle on the white surface. I could see shards of a third cup littering the floor, and a brown stain ran down the far wall.
"GM, did you throw a cup of tea at those people?" I asked.
GM simply made a derisive sound and waved her hand. Then she went over and kneeled down to examine the broken teacup. I knew that GM was very fond of that tea set, and she wasn't the type to lose her temper easily.
"GM, what made you so angry?" I asked.
GM ignored my question. "It occurs to me now that it was a bad idea to bring you in here. I'm sorry you had to see this."
She straightened up and calmly retied her ponytail. Then she put her hands on her hips and looked over at me.
"I think this will all keep till morning. Never mind about that hot drink now. We've had enough excitement tonight. It's up to bed for both of us."
"GM!" I cried as frustration welled up within me. "You're acting like nothing happened!"
GM gave me a puzzled, slightly wounded look, and I felt a wave of contrition wash over me—I wasn't used to shouting at her.
I went on more quietly. "Why won't you answer any of my questions?"
"I did answer one—about your mother," GM replied, averting her eyes.
I wasn't going to let her get away so easily. "No, you told me something I already knew—my mother died of a fever. You didn't tell me why anyone would believe she'd been murdered. That is what Galina was saying wasn't it? That a man from your old village had killed her? And why wouldn't you allow Galina to say his name?"
GM looked at me, and I could see a distant flicker of pain in her eyes. I could also see that she was fighting against it.
GM held out her hand. "If you will go upstairs with me, I will tell you a story. It will help to explain."
I hesitated. Too often, GM had distracted me when I had asked questions like these—she had diverted my attention from the past and sidestepped my questions without ever refusing to answer them outright. I feared she would talk around me again.
My questions would evaporate the way they always did.
"Please, Katie, come with me," GM said, her voice low and pleading. "You know the past is difficult for me."
I resigned myself and took GM's hand.
We went up to my room.
GM switched on the light. The lamp by my bed had a faded shade with yellow sunbursts on it. I'd kept it for years, refusing a new one when GM had wanted to redecorate. For some reason, the old shade reminded me of my mother.
GM smoothed back the quilt on my bed. "Let me tuck you in." She sounded sad and tired.
After I had settled under the covers, GM sat down beside me.
"I will tell you something I have never told you before, Katie. The night your mother died—"
GM's voice quavered and she stopped.
I watched as GM's face worked. She was struggling with something within. Eventually, she overcame it, and her expression settled into composed lines.
"The night your mother died was the worst of all—for the fever, I mean. It had raged through her body, and she had reached a point at which she could no longer find comfort of any kind. She couldn't eat or drink; she couldn't sleep. She couldn't even close her eyes for more than a few moments to rest—she said closing them made the burning behind them worse. On that last night, she kept calling for your father, and of course, your poor father was already gone—dead in that terrible accident. She was crying out for him to protect you. Even in her delirium, she knew she wouldn't last long."
GM paused again. Her chin had begun to tremble.
I felt tears stinging my eyes.
GM went on in a low voice. "When I could make her understand who I was—when I could make her understand that I was her mother—she begged me to protect you. She said, 'Swear to me that you will always protect Katie.' She need hardly have asked for that—the desire to protect you had been in my heart since the day you were born. But I swore it to her then, and I swear it to you now. On my life, I will always protect you."
GM stared at me steadily as she said the words, and the tears in my eyes began to sting even more fiercely. Soon they began to fall. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hold them back.
GM put her arms around me and pressed my head to her heart.
"After I made my promise," GM said, her tone unsteady, "Nadya seemed to grow calmer. She asked to see you. I brought you in, and she kissed you on the forehead. You were sleeping and didn't wake. Then she sang her favorite piece of music—no words, just a hum. Do you remember it?"
I nodded weakly. When I was a young child, my mother had often sung the same melody to me. It was from a piece of music by Mussorgsky.
GM went on. "Not long after she finished singing, Nadya was gone. I swore to her that I would protect you, and I have. And I will. That's why I moved you out of the old village. That's why I moved you out of Russia right after your mother died. I had to get you as far away as I could from people like Galina. She is a good woman, but her thinking is trapped in the Dark Ages. She would warp your mind as she warped your mother's. She has nothing for you but superstition and shadows."
GM rose. She stood looking at me with tears streaming down her face. "I love you, Katie. Believe me when I say there is nothing out there. There is nothing in the dark."
She pressed a kiss to my forehead, as she said my mother had once done, and departed.
I was left feeling less comforted, rather than more so.
I was grateful to hear a story about my mother, even though it was painful. But as I had feared, GM had answered none of my questions and had actually left me with more.
Why had GM said there was nothing in the dark? What was it that she was afraid of?
Chapter 1.
I leaned my forehead against the dark window, welcoming the feel of the cool glass against my feverish skin.
I could feel the night calling to me, though I didn't exactly know what I meant by that. It had been happening more often lately—it was a strange tugging on my mind.
Something was pulling me out into the dark.
In an unguarded moment, my grandmother had told me that my mother had had visions. The way the night called to me, I wondered if this feeling was the beginning of a vision. I wished I could talk to my mother. I'd been wishing for that more and more often lately.
I turned away from the window and picked up the picture that always sat next to my bed. In the picture, a man with curly brown hair and a pale, blond woman smiled as they kneeled on either side of a laughing, fair-haired girl of five. The inscription on the back was hidden by the frame, but I knew well what it said. In GM's busy scrawl were the words Daniel, Katie, Nadya.
My father, me, my mother.
Though the memories were faint, I did remember those early days in Russia. I remembered the big apple tree and the roses that grew at our house. I remembered playing with my red-haired cousin, Odette.
I remembered, too, the day GM had taken the picture. Little had she known then that her son-in-law and her daughter would be dead soon afterward.
My father had died first in an accident in the mountains. My mother died just a few weeks later of a fever. GM had moved us to the United States shortly after that. We'd been here for eleven years now, and my old life was beyond my reach for good.
I set the picture down.
The darkness continued to call to me, and I tried to force my mind back to reality—back to what was normal and safe and unrelated to the unknown out in the dark.
I had school tomorrow and a quiz in English. I had studied some, but I still needed to sleep to be sure of doing well. And I would see Simon tomorrow. His presence was always calming.
I felt a sudden, sharp tug on my mind, and I was seized by an irrational desire to run out into the night—and to keep running until I found the source of the summons.
I closed my eyes and willed the feeling away.
After a moment, the night calling began to subside. I concentrated harder, pushing it further away from me. In another few minutes, the feeling was gone entirely. Relief flooded through me.
I was free.
I climbed into bed and turned out the light.
I was just drifting off to sleep when I was jolted wide-awake by the sound of a car tearing down our street. The car screeched to a halt somewhere below my window, and then turned sharply into our driveway.
I sat up. I heard the muffled slam of two car doors outside, and I heard GM, who usually kept late hours, hurrying toward the door.
I got out of bed and fumbled in the dark to find a robe. I was puzzled—who could possibly have come to see us in the middle of the night?
As I hurried out of my room, I heard a heavy pounding on the front door, followed by a woman's cry.
"Anna! Anna Rost! Annushka! Open the door!"
I froze. Only GM's oldest friends called her Annushka—and there were precious few of those.
I heard GM quickly unbolt the door and open it.
"Galina!" GM shouted in shock. Her voice rose even higher. "Aleksandr? Is that you, Aleksandr? How tall you are! I scarcely would have recognized you."
I wished I could see who was at the door, but I knew that if I went downstairs, GM would just order me back to my room. GM clearly recognized her visitors, and they were clearly people she had known back in Russia.
And GM never allowed me to get involved in anything that had to do with the past.
I crept to the top of the stairs but remained in the shadows—the better to hear without being seen.
"Annushka!" Galina cried. She had a heavy Russian accent—much heavier than GM's. "Annushka! I had scarcely allowed myself to believe that we'd actually found you! Oh, Annushka! After all these years!"
"Hush, Galina, hush," GM hissed. "You'll wake my granddaughter. Come in. Quickly, now."
I could hear the clack of a woman's footsteps in the hall, followed by a man's heavier tread. The door was closed and the bolt reset.
GM led her visitors down the hall to the kitchen.
I tiptoed down the stairs and sat on the bottom step. I wouldn't be able to see into the kitchen from my perch without leaning over the banister, but I knew from experience that I would be able to hear.
GM's voice floated down the hall to me. "Since you're here, Galina," she said, "you and Aleksandr may as well have a seat."
I heard chairs scraping on the kitchen floor.
"You're not entirely happy to see us, are you, Annushka?" Galina asked.
"I am happy to see you," GM said stiffly. "I am not happy about what it is that you bring with you."
"And what is that?" Galina asked sharply.
"Superstition," GM said wearily. "I have a feeling that this conversation is going to be difficult. However, we may as well try to be civilized. May I offer you both a cup of tea?"
"Yes, thank you, Annushka," Galina said.
I heard water running as a kettle was filled.
A moment later, I heard GM sit down at the table again. "I suppose you have a good reason for storming my house in the middle of the night?"
"Annushka, we need your help," Galina said urgently.
"Then why didn't you just call?" GM asked angrily. "Why fly all the way here from Russia? You did come from Russia, didn't you?"
"Yes, we did."
GM snorted. "Ridiculous. Again, I say, why didn't you just call?"
I figured that everyone in the kitchen was too absorbed in the conversation to notice me, so I risked a look over the banister. GM was sitting with her back to me, and I could see that she had pulled her long silver hair into a ponytail that flowed like silk down her back. She was resting her elbows on the kitchen table as she regarded her visitors.
Facing GM was a woman who was young enough to be her daughter. She was blond, and she wore a nondescript beige coat with brightly colored mittens. Next to her was a young man who seemed to be in his early twenties. He was wearing an olive-green military-style coat, and his hair was an odd shade of brown—sort of a cinnamon color. There was a strong family resemblance between the two of them. I guessed that Galina and Aleksandr were mother and son.
Aleksandr must have felt my eyes on him, for he transferred his gaze from GM to me.
I felt a flash of panic as Aleksandr's eyes met mine, and for just an instant, a feeling of strangeness—something wildly foreign—washed over me. I quickly pulled my head back behind the banister.
I froze, waiting to hear if Aleksandr would tell GM that he had seen me.
But Aleksandr did not say a word, and silence settled on the kitchen. I figured my reaction to his gaze had simply been nerves. I relaxed.
"Why didn't I just call you?" Galina said at last, breaking the silence. "I feared you would not listen. I feared you would hang up on me. Was I wrong about that?"
GM did not reply.
"I tried to keep in contact with you," Galina said mournfully. "You didn't answer any of my letters or phone calls."
"I didn't answer you," GM said, "because you wanted to involve my granddaughter in your nonsense. You wanted to make her believe that nightmares are real."
"I wanted to teach her," Galina replied angrily.
"So that's what this is all about then?" GM asked, equally angry. "You, in your great wisdom, have decided that the time has come for you to drag my granddaughter into your world of darkness and ignorance?"
"I did not choose the time, Annushka," Galina said. "It was chosen for me. I feared something like this would happen, and if I'd been working with Ekaterina all the time, maybe we could have prevented this."
I was startled to hear Galina call me by my Russian name—no one ever did that—it was almost as if the name weren't even mine. To my family I had always been Katie—my English father had been responsible for that.
"I don't want to hear your nonsense, Galina," GM said curtly.
"Annushka, you have to listen!" Galina cried. "He's free! You know whom I mean—"
"You will not speak that name in my house!" GM shouted.
Just then the kettle began to whistle, and I jumped.
I heard GM get up, and the whistling soon stopped. There were other noises as GM clattered around, getting the tea ready.
No one spoke.
"I am sorry," Galina said softly, after some time had passed.
I heard GM's chair scrape as she sat down again.
"I will not discuss this if it upsets you," Galina added.
"You don't believe in the supernatural, do you, Mrs. Rost?" Aleksandr asked.
GM snorted. "The mischievous spirits and the vampires? No, I do not. Those are just stories designed to scare people—tales about the supernatural are nothing more than a way to spread fear."
"They aren't all mischievous spirits," Aleksandr said lightly. "They say the Leshi is quite a good fellow. Though you make an excellent point about fear—there are darker things than vampires in Krov."
"You are too young to believe in such foolishness," GM said. "Why can't any of you from the old village have a normal conversation? Look at me. I started over here. I lead a normal life now. Can't you do the same?"
"I heard you are a graphic designer now," Galina said.
"Yes, I am," GM replied.
"I don't even know what that is," Galina said—there was a note of wistfulness in her voice.
"There's so much that you miss," GM replied in a rush. "How are you doing, Galina? How are you really? Are you happy? You know that in my heart I miss you. And don't you want good things for your son? How about you, Aleksandr? How are you?"
"Still unmarried. Ask my mother," Aleksandr said in amusement.
"Shut your mouth, Aleksandr," Galina snapped, her tone unexpectedly sharp. "Don't be a fool."
"Galina, why don't the two of you move somewhere else?" GM asked.
"We can't leave—"
GM broke in hurriedly. "I don't mean leave Russia. I mean leave the village—leave tiny little Krov. Move to Moscow. Or another big city. Russia is such a beautiful country. You don't have to stay in that dark, tiny corner of it. Move some place where there is life—where there are new things."
"Though you will not admit it," Galina said, "you know why I can't leave."
Silence settled on the kitchen once again.
"Annushka, there are lights on at the Mstislav mansion," Galina said after a time, her voice low and edged with fear. "The house has been deserted for a long time. You know when that house was last occupied—it was eleven years ago."
"Perhaps his son has decided to take over the place," GM said evenly. "It would be nice for someone to sweep out the cobwebs. It was a grand old mansion, and it should be restored to its former beauty. The house itself certainly never did anything wrong."
"They opened the old airfield two weeks ago and began fitting up a plane," Galina said quickly. "That's what made us decide to come here."
GM was unimpressed. "So? It would be nice for everyone in the area to have a proper airfield. It might encourage good things."
"Annushka," Galina said urgently, "his house is lit up again. And it was his plane they were working on. You know the one I mean—he bought it when he first amassed his fortune."
"I saw his plane myself," Aleksandr interjected. "I believe he reached the U.S. ahead of us. It took us time to get our travel documents in order."
"Quiet, Aleksandr!" Galina snapped. "Annushka, please. It's him. He is free. And he will seek out—"
"Galina, I warned you not to bring this up." GM's voice was sharp.
"Annushka!" Galina cried despairingly.
"He's dead, Galina," GM said sternly. "Enough!"
"He's returned!" Galina cried.
"Nonsense!" GM replied angrily.
"Annushka! How can you say that? He killed your daughter!"
A chair scraped back violently.
"Superstition killed my daughter!" GM shouted.
"Annushka! You must listen!" Galina wailed.
"Get out of my house!" GM cried.
I heard porcelain shattering against a wall, and two more chairs scraped back.
I jumped to my feet.
I watched in shock as Galina and Aleksandr ran down the hall to the front door. GM came running after them.
Galina fumbled with the locks, and then she and Aleksandr escaped out into the night. GM ran after them.
I quickly followed.
The cold night air cut through my thin nightclothes as I hurried down the concrete driveway in front of the house.
GM was standing in the middle of the driveway, breathing hard. Strands of silver had worked their way free of her ponytail and settled in scattered array around her head, glinting softly in the moonlight.
Galina and Aleksandr jumped into a car that sat just behind GM's own. The engine roared to life, and the car took off, tires screeching.
I watched the car's red taillights disappear into the night, and then I glanced over at GM—I had never seen her so angry.
"GM, what's going on?" I asked.
GM whirled around. She stared hard at me for a moment and then looked down at the silver cross she always wore. She wrapped her fingers around it and gripped it tightly.
"I'm sorry," GM said quietly. "I wanted to spare you all of that. I never should have let them in."
"Are you all right?" I asked. "Who were those people? Why did the woman—Galina?—why did she say a man killed my mother? I thought she died of a fever."
Anger blazed in GM's eyes. "Your mother diddie of a fever. Galina doesn't know what she's talking about."
GM's expression softened as she continued to look at me. "Come back into the house, Katie. It's too cold out here."
GM put her arm around my shoulders and guided me back toward the gold rectangle of light that streamed out of the still-open door.
I stopped suddenly. I'd thought for just a moment that I had seen a tall figure standing in the shadows near the house. I blinked and looked again.
The figure was gone.
"Is something wrong?" GM asked, looking around as if she feared that Galina and Aleksandr had returned.
"No, it's nothing. I thought I saw something, but it's gone now."
GM steered me firmly into the house and shut and locked the door. Then she guided me into the kitchen. "How about a hot drink?"
I looked around the room. Three of the kitchen chairs were standing awkwardly askew. On the kitchen table were two of GM's blue-and-white china cups. One of the cups lay on its side, its contents spilled on the table—a brown puddle on the white surface. I could see shards of a third cup littering the floor, and a brown stain ran down the far wall.
"GM, did you throw a cup of tea at those people?" I asked.
GM simply made a derisive sound and waved her hand. Then she went over and kneeled down to examine the broken teacup. I knew that GM was very fond of that tea set, and she wasn't the type to lose her temper easily.
"GM, what made you so angry?" I asked.
GM ignored my question. "It occurs to me now that it was a bad idea to bring you in here. I'm sorry you had to see this."
She straightened up and calmly retied her ponytail. Then she put her hands on her hips and looked over at me.
"I think this will all keep till morning. Never mind about that hot drink now. We've had enough excitement tonight. It's up to bed for both of us."
"GM!" I cried as frustration welled up within me. "You're acting like nothing happened!"
GM gave me a puzzled, slightly wounded look, and I felt a wave of contrition wash over me—I wasn't used to shouting at her.
I went on more quietly. "Why won't you answer any of my questions?"
"I did answer one—about your mother," GM replied, averting her eyes.
I wasn't going to let her get away so easily. "No, you told me something I already knew—my mother died of a fever. You didn't tell me why anyone would believe she'd been murdered. That is what Galina was saying wasn't it? That a man from your old village had killed her? And why wouldn't you allow Galina to say his name?"
GM looked at me, and I could see a distant flicker of pain in her eyes. I could also see that she was fighting against it.
GM held out her hand. "If you will go upstairs with me, I will tell you a story. It will help to explain."
I hesitated. Too often, GM had distracted me when I had asked questions like these—she had diverted my attention from the past and sidestepped my questions without ever refusing to answer them outright. I feared she would talk around me again.
My questions would evaporate the way they always did.
"Please, Katie, come with me," GM said, her voice low and pleading. "You know the past is difficult for me."
I resigned myself and took GM's hand.
We went up to my room.
GM switched on the light. The lamp by my bed had a faded shade with yellow sunbursts on it. I'd kept it for years, refusing a new one when GM had wanted to redecorate. For some reason, the old shade reminded me of my mother.
GM smoothed back the quilt on my bed. "Let me tuck you in." She sounded sad and tired.
After I had settled under the covers, GM sat down beside me.
"I will tell you something I have never told you before, Katie. The night your mother died—"
GM's voice quavered and she stopped.
I watched as GM's face worked. She was struggling with something within. Eventually, she overcame it, and her expression settled into composed lines.
"The night your mother died was the worst of all—for the fever, I mean. It had raged through her body, and she had reached a point at which she could no longer find comfort of any kind. She couldn't eat or drink; she couldn't sleep. She couldn't even close her eyes for more than a few moments to rest—she said closing them made the burning behind them worse. On that last night, she kept calling for your father, and of course, your poor father was already gone—dead in that terrible accident. She was crying out for him to protect you. Even in her delirium, she knew she wouldn't last long."
GM paused again. Her chin had begun to tremble.
I felt tears stinging my eyes.
GM went on in a low voice. "When I could make her understand who I was—when I could make her understand that I was her mother—she begged me to protect you. She said, 'Swear to me that you will always protect Katie.' She need hardly have asked for that—the desire to protect you had been in my heart since the day you were born. But I swore it to her then, and I swear it to you now. On my life, I will always protect you."
GM stared at me steadily as she said the words, and the tears in my eyes began to sting even more fiercely. Soon they began to fall. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hold them back.
GM put her arms around me and pressed my head to her heart.
"After I made my promise," GM said, her tone unsteady, "Nadya seemed to grow calmer. She asked to see you. I brought you in, and she kissed you on the forehead. You were sleeping and didn't wake. Then she sang her favorite piece of music—no words, just a hum. Do you remember it?"
I nodded weakly. When I was a young child, my mother had often sung the same melody to me. It was from a piece of music by Mussorgsky.
GM went on. "Not long after she finished singing, Nadya was gone. I swore to her that I would protect you, and I have. And I will. That's why I moved you out of the old village. That's why I moved you out of Russia right after your mother died. I had to get you as far away as I could from people like Galina. She is a good woman, but her thinking is trapped in the Dark Ages. She would warp your mind as she warped your mother's. She has nothing for you but superstition and shadows."
GM rose. She stood looking at me with tears streaming down her face. "I love you, Katie. Believe me when I say there is nothing out there. There is nothing in the dark."
She pressed a kiss to my forehead, as she said my mother had once done, and departed.
I was left feeling less comforted, rather than more so.
I was grateful to hear a story about my mother, even though it was painful. But as I had feared, GM had answered none of my questions and had actually left me with more.
Why had GM said there was nothing in the dark? What was it that she was afraid of?
October 15, 2012
Chapter 2, Firebird
Hi everyone,
Here's chapter 2 from Firebird. You can find chapter 1 under September.
Chapter 2.
William and I walked through the trees in silence.
I was rattled, and I could tell he was worried.
Cursed, damned, outcast.
Those were words that William had used to describe himself on more than one occasion, and words that had floated through my mind back at the skating rink.
In a way, those same words could be used to describe me.
I let my mind stray to the words it had shied away from before.
Vampire. Sìdh.
They were words that did not properly belong to this world. And yet I knew they were part of this world all the same.
William had been one of the Sìdh once—a race of bright, immortal creatures of great power. And then he had been attacked by a vampire and turned—though how long ago this had occurred exactly, I did not know. The Sìdh had cast him out, taken his memories, left him to wander. He had found an unexpected home with the vampires of Krov, Russia—the village in which I had been born.
And I myself was a descendent of the Sìdh. My grandfather had been sent to Krov to found a line of humans with Sìdh blood—something the Sìdh did every so many generations in fulfillment of an ancient treaty. The children of such unions were gifted with a unique ability, and an obligation, to combat evil spirits of great strength and age—particularly one known as the kost.
A kost was an evil spirit inhabiting—and animating—a human corpse.
My mother was the only child of this particular Sìdh union, and like all those before her, she was known as the Little Sun. She was ordained by her birth to be the protector of Krov, and in this capacity she had fought and imprisoned a kost named Gleb Mstislav in his family's crypt. And he had worked in secret to poison and kill her.
My father had died shortly before her in an ordinary accident—he had died while hiking. And I had been left an orphan in the care of my grandmother, GM, who knew nothing of my grandfather's true nature or my mother's purpose in life.
And then this past October Gleb had escaped from his crypt, aided by his son Timofei and my own cousin Odette. Gleb had come after me in Elspeth's Grove, hoping to kill me. My struggle with him took me to Russia, where William and I had worked together to destroy him.
On my mother's death, I had become the new Little Sun, though I didn't even know any such thing existed. And shortly after my sixteenth birthday I had begun to have visions, which I had learned were meant to help me in my battle against creatures like Gleb. But after Gleb had been defeated, and I had returned to Elspeth's Grove, the visions had stopped.
I had thought that it was over—that the darkness in Krov was something I had left behind forever. I had thought that I was free to live in Elspeth's Grove in peace with William.
But there were vampires from Krov in Elspeth's Grove now, and if they were telling me the truth, there was a price on my head now.
I shivered as I thought of Anton and Innokenti. How long had they been following William and me? How long had they been watching us? Had they seen me at the house with GM?
I didn't want her to be in danger because of me.
"How did they find us?" I asked William.
William blinked as if I had startled him out of his train of thought. "What was that?"
"Innokenti and Anton," I said. "How did they find us? I'm sure I never told Innokenti that I lived in Elspeth's Grove."
William laughed—a strangely humorless sound. "You need not have told Innokenti anything. He has ways of finding things out."
William lapsed back into silence.
"You and Anton appear to know each other," I said after a moment.
"Yes," William replied reluctantly. "He lived in the vampire colony in Krov at the same time as I did."
"The two of you don't get along?" I asked.
"No."
"Why not?"
"It doesn't matter now," he said quietly. "And I'd rather not discuss it. Please don't ask me to tell you."
There was a note of finality in William's voice, and I knew he would say no more about Anton.
"What do you think they really want from us?" I asked. "Did you believe Innokenti when he said that someone is after us, and that he wants to protect us?"
"No," William said. "It's a scare tactic. Innokenti's trying to trick us into doing what he wants. There's no one after us."
"Are you sure about that?" I asked. "One hundred percent sure?"
William paused for a moment before answering.
"No."
I felt a sense of dread settle over me. "So it's possible that Innokenti was telling the truth?"
"It is possible—but it's a remote possibility. You asked me if I was one hundred percent sure it's a trick. I can't be one hundred percent sure. But I know Innokenti and the rest of them. They don't act in the interests of others—no matter what he says. They only act to help themselves."
"Why do you think they want us then?"
William shook his head. "I think it's best if we don't find out."
We walked in silence again for a time before I asked the question that was weighing the heaviest on my mind.
"Do you really think they'll just take no for an answer?"
William looked at me, and a muscle worked in his jaw.
He did not reply.
Soon the trees we walked through began to thin, and we were in sight of my neighborhood. The thought of vampires lurking near my house left me feeling deeply uneasy.
I clutched at William's sleeve, and he stopped walking.
"Do you think Innokenti and Anton will leave Elspeth's Grove? Do you think they're watching us right now?"
William took my face in his hands. "They aren't nearby right now—I would hear them if they were. And I don't know what they are planning to do, but you and your grandmother will be safe. I'll see to that."
"William, if there really is a price on my head—if there really are two groups after me—"
William interrupted. "Have I let you down yet?"
"No, you've never let me down," I said.
"Trust me—I'll take care of it." William smiled. "Now, let's go see your grandmother."
He took my hand and started in the direction of my house.
"William, wait." I said. "I don't think we can spring your presence on GM like this. I don't have any idea how she's going to react."
"Katie, don't be ridiculous," William said, exasperated. "Our situation is serious—manageable—but serious. And I need to be around more. I need to have your grandmother accept and approve of my being here."
"I know," I replied. "That's why we can't just surprise her today. It won't do us any good if she throws you out of the house as soon as she sees you. Let me talk to her alone first. Come see me tomorrow at school, and I'll let you know when you can see her."
William started to protest, but I interrupted him.
"It will be soon—I promise. Who knows? Maybe she'll even invite you to dinner."
William gave me a tolerant look. "All right, but make sure it is soon. The sooner everything is out in the open, the better."
"I'll bring GM around," I said. "I promise."
We started walking again, and we paused at the corner of my street, like we usually did.
"At least I know now why you never let me walk you up to your door," William said. "I realize that I should have been more suspicious."
"What did you think before?" I asked.
William shrugged. "Humans are often uncomfortable around vampires—even incomplete ones like me. I thought maybe she didn't like to look at me, and you were tactfully not telling me."
"William," I said. "I can't imagine anyone not wanting to look at you."
William shook his head. But I thought I could see the ghost of a smile on his lips.
"I'll see you tomorrow at school then, Katie," he said, turning to leave. "I'll be watching to see that you and your grandmother are safe tonight."
"William—I have one more question."
He turned back.
"What about that last thing that Innokenti said?" I asked. "What did he mean when he said that 'they' will not allow me to remain with you. Who are 'they'?"
William looked away from me. "As I said, I think this is all a trick. You don't have to worry about what Innokenti said."
"But you do have some idea of what he was implying?"
"I have an idea—but I can't be sure. In any event, you don't need to know. I'll see you tomorrow, Katie."
William gave me a small smile and walked off.
I stood looking after him with a familiar sense of disappointment. I wished he had trusted me with his suspicions.
Once William had disappeared from view, I walked up to my house and went inside.
I paused in the hall just by the door and tried to figure out how I was going to tell GM that William was in Elspeth's Grove and that I had been seeing him.
I knew it wasn't going to be easy.
To be fair to GM, I didn't know for certain that she disliked William. But the two times she had spoken to him had been difficult times, and William's entrance into our lives had coincided with the return of the past for GM. My mother, in her short life, had become deeply involved in the supernatural—she'd really had no choice. And the supernatural was something my grandmother had not believed in until it had burst into her house in October in a way that she couldn't deny.
Having the reanimated corpse of a man she knew to be dead break into her house was something even GM couldn't ignore.
But GM was stubborn, and her rational mind had reasserted itself after the initial shock had worn off. She'd been able to convince herself that all of the bizarre things she'd seen had a perfectly normal explanation.
GM feared that I would fall under the spell of the supernatural and be consumed by it as my mother had been, and I had a feeling that GM saw William as part of that supernatural threat. She didn't know who and what he was, of course—to her he was just an ordinary young man. But he'd been involved in events that she'd rather forget.
And I was afraid that she would prefer that William were forgotten, too.
I continued to stand by the door in an agony of indecision, trying to force my mind to work. I tried to come up with just the right words to convince GM that she had nothing to worry about—that William was beneficial and not a danger. After a few moments, I began to wonder if GM would come out to see me before I'd come up with a plan—I knew she must have heard me come in.
But time passed, and GM did not appear.
I took a tentative step forward. It was a little unusual for GM not to come see what I was up to as soon as I came home. But she had been distracted lately, and it was pretty obvious to me that something was on her mind. When I had asked her about it, however, GM had brushed me off rather expertly—she was very good at side-stepping questions.
GM had a way of talking around a topic and avoiding it without ever directly refusing to talk about it.
In a way, it was a gift.
After another few moments had passed, I decided to take GM on without a plan. I would just go in determined not to lose. After all, there was no good reason for me not to see William—he had already saved my life twice. Surely, I could make her see that we were better off with him than without him.
I walked through the house, but I didn't find GM in any of the usual places. Eventually, I found GM in her office where I had left her earlier, which was odd—she didn't usually spend much time there on the weekends. She said she wanted to keep her home life and her work life separate—even if they co-existed in the same place.
As I entered the office, GM's head was bent, and I could see that she was pouring over a letter. GM had been receiving a lot of letters lately—letters that she wouldn't talk about, but would hastily tuck away. I could see an envelope on the desk beside her. It had a number of colorful stamps on it—as if it had been mailed from overseas. I wondered—could GM be receiving letters from Russia?
"GM?" I said quietly.
GM turned in her chair, clearly startled. With admirable economy of movement, she swept her letter back into its envelope, and deposited the envelope into a drawer.
"Oh, Katie! I didn't hear you come in. How was your first time ice skating?"
"It was good," I said. "I didn't break anything, and I actually made it all the way around the rink several times." I paused. "Did you receive a letter from Galina?"
GM stood up. "Letter?"
"Yes," I said. "You had a letter in your hand when I came in, and the stamps seemed to be foreign. I was wondering if maybe you'd heard from Galina. I know you've been in contact with her."
Galina Golovnin had been a friend of my mother's. Although she was the same age as my mother, she had been a teacher of sorts to her—helping my mother to develop and hone her powers as the Little Sun. When I had encountered her in Russia, she had helped me too. Galina's life was deeply steeped in the supernatural, something GM had resented bitterly. But since our recent trip to Russia, GM's attitude toward Galina had relaxed a bit. She was no longer determined to banish Galina to the past and pretend that she had never existed.
"Galina?" GM said. "Oh, no. No. I have not heard from her lately."
I waited expectantly.
GM, who was always so confident and self-possessed, suddenly seemed very unsure of herself. She wrapped her fingers around the silver cross she always wore and began to move the charm up and down on its chain in an agitated fashion. She looked around the room. Then she looked back at me.
"Enough about the letter. Forget about the letter. Solnyshko, I have something to tell you—to ask you, rather."
'Solnyshko' was a Russian term of endearment that GM often used for me—one that lots of people used. Oddly enough the word literally meant 'little sun.' GM had been using it for me for as long as I could remember. She had no idea how apt it really was.
I took a deep breath. "I have something to tell you, too."
"Excellent. Then we have news to share with one another. Let's go in the kitchen, Solnyshko. Are you hungry?"
"No, I'm not hungry," I said, as GM shepherded me out of her office.
"Some tea, then," GM said. "It is always good to have tea when one talks."
I wasn't really keen on the idea of having tea. I'd lost my taste for tea and for hot drinks in general after I'd discovered that my mother had been poisoned by tea laced with vampire blood. I had been tricked into drinking some of the stuff myself, and the memory of it was an unpleasant one. But if drinking some tea would make GM happy, then I would go along with it.
In the kitchen, GM waved me to a seat, and she put the kettle on. Then she sat down across from me and gave me a level gaze. We sat like that for several moments, and I began to shift uncomfortably under her steady stare.
"GM, let's—"
"Not just yet, Solnyshko. Wait for the tea."
"Would you mind looking in another direction for a few moments, then?" I asked. "You're making me nervous."
GM gave me a wry smile. "My apologies, Solnyshko." She rose. "I need to get the tea things out anyway."
GM got out her blue-and-white china teacups—the same ones she had used on the night that Galina Golovnin and her son, Aleksandr, had shown up on our doorstep to warn us that Gleb Mstislav would soon be after me. GM had not believed them and had thrown them out.
But they had been right.
Soon the kettle was whistling, and GM poured out for us. I gazed into the golden depths of the tea reluctantly. I knew it was chamomile, and I knew it was untainted, but I couldn't help thinking again of the poisoned tea my cousin Odette had given me.
I shivered.
GM glanced up at me. "Are you cold, Solnyshko?"
I gave her a reassuring smile. "No. I was just thinking. You know how sometimes a memory steals over you and catches you in a funny way?"
"I do indeed," GM replied.
She sipped at her tea and gave me a look over the rim of her cup. Then she set it down with decision.
"Katie, I know we both have things to say, and I hope you don't mind if I go first."
"Go ahead," I said.
"Thank you." GM paused for a moment. "Do you remember what I said to you in Tblisi? I promised you that when that whole terrible business was over, that we would do some proper traveling?"
"I remember," I said.
GM took a deep breath, as if she were gathering courage. "What do you think about spending Christmas in Russia?"
I didn't know what I had been expecting, but that was not it.
Several memories flashed through my mind—all of them terrifying.
"Christmas in Russia?" I said.
"Yes." GM nodded her head in an encouraging fashion.
"In Krov?" I asked.
"Yes."
My head began to spin a little. I loved Russia—I really did. It was the country of my birth, and I thought it was beautiful. But going back to Krov seemed dangerous at this point—especially since I had just met two vampires who wanted me to do exactly that.
"Why do you want to go to Krov for Christmas?" I asked. "Does it have something to do with all the letters?"
"Letters?" GM asked innocently.
"Yes, GM," I said. "Letters like the one you were reading in your office just now. I've seen you with them before—and the envelopes always have a lot of foreign stamps on them."
"Ah, yes. It appears you have sharp eyes, Solnyshko. You don't have anything to be concerned about. The letters are not from anyone you know."
"Who are they from?"
GM shook her head. "Sometimes a grandmother needs to keep some things to herself. Do not distress yourself over the letters, Katie."
I decided to give up. Once GM decided she wasn't going to talk about something, she very seldom changed her mind. I stared back down at my tea.
"Solnyshko, forgive me," GM said, "but you do not seem very excited about going to Krov. I thought you would be happy. I thought we might go to Moscow, too. You would love all of the beautiful buildings in the great square. St. Basil's Basilica is a wonder in person."
I tried to think of how to put my thoughts into words, but what I wanted to say seemed to need more diplomacy than I was able to summon at the moment. I wanted to tell GM that I wished she would tell me what was going on and who had written the letters. I wanted to tell her that I had nearly died in Krov, and it was full of bad memories. I wanted to tell her that we couldn't go back to Krov because the village was crawling with vampires—and some of those vampires were eager for my return. But the right words just wouldn't come—especially for the last part. How could I hint at a danger that I wasn't allowed to name?
GM leaned forward. "What is it that is troubling you, Solnyshko? Are you worried about not having a visa? If that is the case, then you need worry no longer. I have already obtained visas for both of us. We can fly directly into Russia."
I was startled. When we had gone to Russia in October, we had actually had to fly into Georgia and sneak across the border because Russia required a visa for U.S. visitors while Georgia did not. If GM had visas for us already, then she had been planning the trip for some time now and had never mentioned it to me.
"GM," I said, "why won't you tell me what's going on?"
"It's Christmas, Katie. I haven't spent a Christmas in Russia in many years. I miss my homeland."
I felt a twinge of frustration. I knew GM was sincere when she said that, and to be fair, the reason she gave was a perfectly good one. But I couldn't shrug off a suspicion that that wasn't all there was to it. Then again, I wondered—what exactly was it that I suspected GM of? I really didn't know.
"Where are you thinking of staying in Krov?" I asked. "Odette's house?"
GM gave me a sharp look. "So is that what is troubling you? Your poor cousin? I can understand that it must be hard for you. It is hard for me, too, Solnyshko. You loved Odette and so did I. And hope is not lost entirely. People have been restored to their families after going missing for years, and Odette has only been gone a few months. We may yet see her again."
Seeing Odette again was one of the things I was worried about—as William had told Innokenti, it was entirely possible that Odette would return. She had gone missing. But she was not lost in the way that GM thought she was—in the way that an ordinary human girl would be lost. Odette had become a vampire, and in October she had tried to kill me. She had disappeared after that, and her house in Krov had been left vacant. If we settled ourselves into her house at Christmas, who was to say that she wouldn't return and resent our presence? I had seen Odette when she was angry—it was a truly terrifying sight.
So, Odette might come for me, and so might Innokenti and Anton—in fact, I had a pretty definite feeling that the last two would. If I went to Krov for Christmas, would I ever be allowed to leave again? Would I even survive whatever Innokenti and his fellow vampires had planned?
"GM, do we have to go to Russia for Christmas?" I asked uncomfortably.
GM's face fell. "I am forgetting how hard that trip was for you, aren't I? Not only did you lose your cousin, but you were kidnapped by that madman who used to be your teacher. And then you were in the hospital. I am sorry, Solnyshko. We do not have to go to Russia for Christmas."
I was sorry to see how disappointed GM looked. I could tell that she'd really had her heart set on going to Russia—but such a trip would be dangerous, and there was no way I could explain that to her.
"I'm sorry, GM," I said. "I just don't think I can do it."
GM reached across the table and patted my hand. "It is all right, Solnyshko. I hadn't quite realized how difficult this would be for you. We will not go."
"Now," GM said briskly, as if she'd completely banished the topic from her mind, "I believe you said you had something to tell me, too?"
Suddenly, I felt even worse. First, I'd ruined GM's Christmas plans. Now I was about to give her more bad news.
I had developed no clever plan of attack, so I decided just to plunge ahead.
"GM, please get too worked up over what I'm going to say."
GM raised one silver eyebrow. "Your tone does not inspire confidence, Solnyshko."
"Do you remember William Sursur?" I asked. "He got us out of the house that night when we were forced to flee to the airport. And he got me out of the Mstislav crypt in Krov. He also came to see us at the house in Krov right before we left."
GM's expression grew carefully blank. I knew that look—it was one she wore whenever I brought up a topic she didn't want to discuss. It was as I had feared—GM did not approve of William.
"I remember that he was very handsome," GM said.
"He meant a lot to me, GM."
"I also remember that he said the two of you could not be together. After all, he lives in Russia, and you live here."
"That's just it," I said. "William doesn't live in Russia anymore. He lives here."
GM was clearly startled. "He lives here in the United States?"
"He lives here in Elspeth's Grove."
GM's eyebrows rose. "What is this that you are telling me?"
"GM, are you angry?"
"That boy lives here now? He has followed you?"
"Why don't you like him?" I asked.
GM's voice rose. "You cannot see him. I don't want him in this house!"
"GM, please!" I cried. "He saved both our lives!"
GM fell silent.
"Why don't you like him?" I asked again. "What has he done?"
GM looked away. "I don't know anything about him. And he appears to be mixed up in some pretty dangerous things."
"Things he was trying to stop," I said.
GM looked at me. "What exactly is it that you want me to say?"
"Please don't be like that, GM. William is here in Elspeth's Grove. I like him. And he's really helped me. I want to see him. And if it's okay with you, I would like William to come over here, so you can talk to him and see that he's a good person."
GM looked down at her teacup, and she didn't say anything for a long time. I began to hope that she was wavering.
"There is something in what you say," she said at last. "You are a good girl. I suppose I can trust your judgment."
She looked up at me again. "I confess that I don't entirely know my own mind in this case. Perhaps the problem is that I just don't want you getting any older."
As I looked at GM, I felt tears stinging my eyes. "GM, you don't have to worry that you're going to lose me. You have to know that I will always love you. Nothing will ever change that."
GM stood and walked around the table to me.
"I know, Solnyshko. I will always love you, too. I have been both your grandmother and your mother. And it is sometimes hard for a mother to see her child grow up."
I hugged her back tightly.
GM straightened up and brushed a hand over my hair.
"When would you like your William to come over?"
I didn't want to rush things, but I knew the appearance of Innokenti and Anton had made it necessary for me to get William on good terms with GM as soon as possible.
"Is tomorrow okay?"
GM blinked. "Tomorrow?"
"I know it's sudden—"
GM waved a hand. "It is all right, Solnyshko. Invite him over for dinner. I will make pasta. Everyone likes pasta."
"Thank you, GM. Thanks for William and thanks about Russia."
GM pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Anything for you, Solnyshko."
GM cleared away her cup and left the room.
I was left with my full cup of tea and a sense of relief. I was very happy that William would be able to come over tomorrow—though I realized that I didn't know if he actually ever ate anything or not. I supposed we would think of something if he didn't. And now that GM would allow William to be in the house, it made me feel a bit better about the fact that Innokenti and Anton were lurking out there somewhere. I wished William had told me how he knew Anton. Anton seemed much more dangerous than Innokenti—and Innokenti didn't seem safe.
I stood up and poured my tea into the sink. I had homework to do, but I wandered into the living room where I knew I would find a picture of GM and my grandfather.
The picture I was looking for stood on a table with other pictures of family and friends—a number of them featuring me. Some of the people were unknown to me, but the pictures of my parents and my grandparents sat side by side next to one another right in the center. The picture of my parents was from their wedding—my mother, pale and blond like me, my father just a little darker with light brown curly hair. Both of them were beaming, and my mother was holding a single flower. It was curious that no one else seemed to be in attendance.
And then there was the picture of my grandparents.
I picked their photo up. My grandmother had been blond when she was younger, as had my grandfather. They looked like a perfectly normal couple—it was hard to believe that my grandfather had truly been one of the Sìdh.
As I looked at my grandfather, I wondered what he was like. GM believed that he had died, but Galina told me that he still lived and that he had gone back to his people. I wondered if he knew that GM lived in another country now, and if he ever saw her—even if she didn't see him. GM didn't speak about him very much, but I knew that she had loved him. And she'd told me that I would have loved him too.
I set the picture down and walked up the stairs to my room.
I did have homework to do—if I could keep my mind on it. I told myself to firmly to forget about GM's letters. And I told myself not to think too much about Anton and Innokenti. They hadn't actually threatened me directly, and I knew William would watch over the house. Maybe he was right—maybe the presence of the two vampires in town was just a scare tactic.
I was still just a little too wound up to get to work, so I wandered around the room, straightening things up. As I walked past my dresser and the large mirror over it, I thought I saw something moving in the mirror—something that wasn't my own image.
I stopped, startled, and peered into the mirror. I saw only my own face and the room behind me.
I told myself I hadn't actually seen anything out of the ordinary.
I shrugged off my nerves and went to my desk, determined to finally get to work.
As I opened my books, however, I couldn't help thinking of the mirror, and an image flashed in my mind of what I had seen.
There had been a second image in the mirror. I had seen a shadow walking behind me.
Here's chapter 2 from Firebird. You can find chapter 1 under September.
Chapter 2.
William and I walked through the trees in silence.
I was rattled, and I could tell he was worried.
Cursed, damned, outcast.
Those were words that William had used to describe himself on more than one occasion, and words that had floated through my mind back at the skating rink.
In a way, those same words could be used to describe me.
I let my mind stray to the words it had shied away from before.
Vampire. Sìdh.
They were words that did not properly belong to this world. And yet I knew they were part of this world all the same.
William had been one of the Sìdh once—a race of bright, immortal creatures of great power. And then he had been attacked by a vampire and turned—though how long ago this had occurred exactly, I did not know. The Sìdh had cast him out, taken his memories, left him to wander. He had found an unexpected home with the vampires of Krov, Russia—the village in which I had been born.
And I myself was a descendent of the Sìdh. My grandfather had been sent to Krov to found a line of humans with Sìdh blood—something the Sìdh did every so many generations in fulfillment of an ancient treaty. The children of such unions were gifted with a unique ability, and an obligation, to combat evil spirits of great strength and age—particularly one known as the kost.
A kost was an evil spirit inhabiting—and animating—a human corpse.
My mother was the only child of this particular Sìdh union, and like all those before her, she was known as the Little Sun. She was ordained by her birth to be the protector of Krov, and in this capacity she had fought and imprisoned a kost named Gleb Mstislav in his family's crypt. And he had worked in secret to poison and kill her.
My father had died shortly before her in an ordinary accident—he had died while hiking. And I had been left an orphan in the care of my grandmother, GM, who knew nothing of my grandfather's true nature or my mother's purpose in life.
And then this past October Gleb had escaped from his crypt, aided by his son Timofei and my own cousin Odette. Gleb had come after me in Elspeth's Grove, hoping to kill me. My struggle with him took me to Russia, where William and I had worked together to destroy him.
On my mother's death, I had become the new Little Sun, though I didn't even know any such thing existed. And shortly after my sixteenth birthday I had begun to have visions, which I had learned were meant to help me in my battle against creatures like Gleb. But after Gleb had been defeated, and I had returned to Elspeth's Grove, the visions had stopped.
I had thought that it was over—that the darkness in Krov was something I had left behind forever. I had thought that I was free to live in Elspeth's Grove in peace with William.
But there were vampires from Krov in Elspeth's Grove now, and if they were telling me the truth, there was a price on my head now.
I shivered as I thought of Anton and Innokenti. How long had they been following William and me? How long had they been watching us? Had they seen me at the house with GM?
I didn't want her to be in danger because of me.
"How did they find us?" I asked William.
William blinked as if I had startled him out of his train of thought. "What was that?"
"Innokenti and Anton," I said. "How did they find us? I'm sure I never told Innokenti that I lived in Elspeth's Grove."
William laughed—a strangely humorless sound. "You need not have told Innokenti anything. He has ways of finding things out."
William lapsed back into silence.
"You and Anton appear to know each other," I said after a moment.
"Yes," William replied reluctantly. "He lived in the vampire colony in Krov at the same time as I did."
"The two of you don't get along?" I asked.
"No."
"Why not?"
"It doesn't matter now," he said quietly. "And I'd rather not discuss it. Please don't ask me to tell you."
There was a note of finality in William's voice, and I knew he would say no more about Anton.
"What do you think they really want from us?" I asked. "Did you believe Innokenti when he said that someone is after us, and that he wants to protect us?"
"No," William said. "It's a scare tactic. Innokenti's trying to trick us into doing what he wants. There's no one after us."
"Are you sure about that?" I asked. "One hundred percent sure?"
William paused for a moment before answering.
"No."
I felt a sense of dread settle over me. "So it's possible that Innokenti was telling the truth?"
"It is possible—but it's a remote possibility. You asked me if I was one hundred percent sure it's a trick. I can't be one hundred percent sure. But I know Innokenti and the rest of them. They don't act in the interests of others—no matter what he says. They only act to help themselves."
"Why do you think they want us then?"
William shook his head. "I think it's best if we don't find out."
We walked in silence again for a time before I asked the question that was weighing the heaviest on my mind.
"Do you really think they'll just take no for an answer?"
William looked at me, and a muscle worked in his jaw.
He did not reply.
Soon the trees we walked through began to thin, and we were in sight of my neighborhood. The thought of vampires lurking near my house left me feeling deeply uneasy.
I clutched at William's sleeve, and he stopped walking.
"Do you think Innokenti and Anton will leave Elspeth's Grove? Do you think they're watching us right now?"
William took my face in his hands. "They aren't nearby right now—I would hear them if they were. And I don't know what they are planning to do, but you and your grandmother will be safe. I'll see to that."
"William, if there really is a price on my head—if there really are two groups after me—"
William interrupted. "Have I let you down yet?"
"No, you've never let me down," I said.
"Trust me—I'll take care of it." William smiled. "Now, let's go see your grandmother."
He took my hand and started in the direction of my house.
"William, wait." I said. "I don't think we can spring your presence on GM like this. I don't have any idea how she's going to react."
"Katie, don't be ridiculous," William said, exasperated. "Our situation is serious—manageable—but serious. And I need to be around more. I need to have your grandmother accept and approve of my being here."
"I know," I replied. "That's why we can't just surprise her today. It won't do us any good if she throws you out of the house as soon as she sees you. Let me talk to her alone first. Come see me tomorrow at school, and I'll let you know when you can see her."
William started to protest, but I interrupted him.
"It will be soon—I promise. Who knows? Maybe she'll even invite you to dinner."
William gave me a tolerant look. "All right, but make sure it is soon. The sooner everything is out in the open, the better."
"I'll bring GM around," I said. "I promise."
We started walking again, and we paused at the corner of my street, like we usually did.
"At least I know now why you never let me walk you up to your door," William said. "I realize that I should have been more suspicious."
"What did you think before?" I asked.
William shrugged. "Humans are often uncomfortable around vampires—even incomplete ones like me. I thought maybe she didn't like to look at me, and you were tactfully not telling me."
"William," I said. "I can't imagine anyone not wanting to look at you."
William shook his head. But I thought I could see the ghost of a smile on his lips.
"I'll see you tomorrow at school then, Katie," he said, turning to leave. "I'll be watching to see that you and your grandmother are safe tonight."
"William—I have one more question."
He turned back.
"What about that last thing that Innokenti said?" I asked. "What did he mean when he said that 'they' will not allow me to remain with you. Who are 'they'?"
William looked away from me. "As I said, I think this is all a trick. You don't have to worry about what Innokenti said."
"But you do have some idea of what he was implying?"
"I have an idea—but I can't be sure. In any event, you don't need to know. I'll see you tomorrow, Katie."
William gave me a small smile and walked off.
I stood looking after him with a familiar sense of disappointment. I wished he had trusted me with his suspicions.
Once William had disappeared from view, I walked up to my house and went inside.
I paused in the hall just by the door and tried to figure out how I was going to tell GM that William was in Elspeth's Grove and that I had been seeing him.
I knew it wasn't going to be easy.
To be fair to GM, I didn't know for certain that she disliked William. But the two times she had spoken to him had been difficult times, and William's entrance into our lives had coincided with the return of the past for GM. My mother, in her short life, had become deeply involved in the supernatural—she'd really had no choice. And the supernatural was something my grandmother had not believed in until it had burst into her house in October in a way that she couldn't deny.
Having the reanimated corpse of a man she knew to be dead break into her house was something even GM couldn't ignore.
But GM was stubborn, and her rational mind had reasserted itself after the initial shock had worn off. She'd been able to convince herself that all of the bizarre things she'd seen had a perfectly normal explanation.
GM feared that I would fall under the spell of the supernatural and be consumed by it as my mother had been, and I had a feeling that GM saw William as part of that supernatural threat. She didn't know who and what he was, of course—to her he was just an ordinary young man. But he'd been involved in events that she'd rather forget.
And I was afraid that she would prefer that William were forgotten, too.
I continued to stand by the door in an agony of indecision, trying to force my mind to work. I tried to come up with just the right words to convince GM that she had nothing to worry about—that William was beneficial and not a danger. After a few moments, I began to wonder if GM would come out to see me before I'd come up with a plan—I knew she must have heard me come in.
But time passed, and GM did not appear.
I took a tentative step forward. It was a little unusual for GM not to come see what I was up to as soon as I came home. But she had been distracted lately, and it was pretty obvious to me that something was on her mind. When I had asked her about it, however, GM had brushed me off rather expertly—she was very good at side-stepping questions.
GM had a way of talking around a topic and avoiding it without ever directly refusing to talk about it.
In a way, it was a gift.
After another few moments had passed, I decided to take GM on without a plan. I would just go in determined not to lose. After all, there was no good reason for me not to see William—he had already saved my life twice. Surely, I could make her see that we were better off with him than without him.
I walked through the house, but I didn't find GM in any of the usual places. Eventually, I found GM in her office where I had left her earlier, which was odd—she didn't usually spend much time there on the weekends. She said she wanted to keep her home life and her work life separate—even if they co-existed in the same place.
As I entered the office, GM's head was bent, and I could see that she was pouring over a letter. GM had been receiving a lot of letters lately—letters that she wouldn't talk about, but would hastily tuck away. I could see an envelope on the desk beside her. It had a number of colorful stamps on it—as if it had been mailed from overseas. I wondered—could GM be receiving letters from Russia?
"GM?" I said quietly.
GM turned in her chair, clearly startled. With admirable economy of movement, she swept her letter back into its envelope, and deposited the envelope into a drawer.
"Oh, Katie! I didn't hear you come in. How was your first time ice skating?"
"It was good," I said. "I didn't break anything, and I actually made it all the way around the rink several times." I paused. "Did you receive a letter from Galina?"
GM stood up. "Letter?"
"Yes," I said. "You had a letter in your hand when I came in, and the stamps seemed to be foreign. I was wondering if maybe you'd heard from Galina. I know you've been in contact with her."
Galina Golovnin had been a friend of my mother's. Although she was the same age as my mother, she had been a teacher of sorts to her—helping my mother to develop and hone her powers as the Little Sun. When I had encountered her in Russia, she had helped me too. Galina's life was deeply steeped in the supernatural, something GM had resented bitterly. But since our recent trip to Russia, GM's attitude toward Galina had relaxed a bit. She was no longer determined to banish Galina to the past and pretend that she had never existed.
"Galina?" GM said. "Oh, no. No. I have not heard from her lately."
I waited expectantly.
GM, who was always so confident and self-possessed, suddenly seemed very unsure of herself. She wrapped her fingers around the silver cross she always wore and began to move the charm up and down on its chain in an agitated fashion. She looked around the room. Then she looked back at me.
"Enough about the letter. Forget about the letter. Solnyshko, I have something to tell you—to ask you, rather."
'Solnyshko' was a Russian term of endearment that GM often used for me—one that lots of people used. Oddly enough the word literally meant 'little sun.' GM had been using it for me for as long as I could remember. She had no idea how apt it really was.
I took a deep breath. "I have something to tell you, too."
"Excellent. Then we have news to share with one another. Let's go in the kitchen, Solnyshko. Are you hungry?"
"No, I'm not hungry," I said, as GM shepherded me out of her office.
"Some tea, then," GM said. "It is always good to have tea when one talks."
I wasn't really keen on the idea of having tea. I'd lost my taste for tea and for hot drinks in general after I'd discovered that my mother had been poisoned by tea laced with vampire blood. I had been tricked into drinking some of the stuff myself, and the memory of it was an unpleasant one. But if drinking some tea would make GM happy, then I would go along with it.
In the kitchen, GM waved me to a seat, and she put the kettle on. Then she sat down across from me and gave me a level gaze. We sat like that for several moments, and I began to shift uncomfortably under her steady stare.
"GM, let's—"
"Not just yet, Solnyshko. Wait for the tea."
"Would you mind looking in another direction for a few moments, then?" I asked. "You're making me nervous."
GM gave me a wry smile. "My apologies, Solnyshko." She rose. "I need to get the tea things out anyway."
GM got out her blue-and-white china teacups—the same ones she had used on the night that Galina Golovnin and her son, Aleksandr, had shown up on our doorstep to warn us that Gleb Mstislav would soon be after me. GM had not believed them and had thrown them out.
But they had been right.
Soon the kettle was whistling, and GM poured out for us. I gazed into the golden depths of the tea reluctantly. I knew it was chamomile, and I knew it was untainted, but I couldn't help thinking again of the poisoned tea my cousin Odette had given me.
I shivered.
GM glanced up at me. "Are you cold, Solnyshko?"
I gave her a reassuring smile. "No. I was just thinking. You know how sometimes a memory steals over you and catches you in a funny way?"
"I do indeed," GM replied.
She sipped at her tea and gave me a look over the rim of her cup. Then she set it down with decision.
"Katie, I know we both have things to say, and I hope you don't mind if I go first."
"Go ahead," I said.
"Thank you." GM paused for a moment. "Do you remember what I said to you in Tblisi? I promised you that when that whole terrible business was over, that we would do some proper traveling?"
"I remember," I said.
GM took a deep breath, as if she were gathering courage. "What do you think about spending Christmas in Russia?"
I didn't know what I had been expecting, but that was not it.
Several memories flashed through my mind—all of them terrifying.
"Christmas in Russia?" I said.
"Yes." GM nodded her head in an encouraging fashion.
"In Krov?" I asked.
"Yes."
My head began to spin a little. I loved Russia—I really did. It was the country of my birth, and I thought it was beautiful. But going back to Krov seemed dangerous at this point—especially since I had just met two vampires who wanted me to do exactly that.
"Why do you want to go to Krov for Christmas?" I asked. "Does it have something to do with all the letters?"
"Letters?" GM asked innocently.
"Yes, GM," I said. "Letters like the one you were reading in your office just now. I've seen you with them before—and the envelopes always have a lot of foreign stamps on them."
"Ah, yes. It appears you have sharp eyes, Solnyshko. You don't have anything to be concerned about. The letters are not from anyone you know."
"Who are they from?"
GM shook her head. "Sometimes a grandmother needs to keep some things to herself. Do not distress yourself over the letters, Katie."
I decided to give up. Once GM decided she wasn't going to talk about something, she very seldom changed her mind. I stared back down at my tea.
"Solnyshko, forgive me," GM said, "but you do not seem very excited about going to Krov. I thought you would be happy. I thought we might go to Moscow, too. You would love all of the beautiful buildings in the great square. St. Basil's Basilica is a wonder in person."
I tried to think of how to put my thoughts into words, but what I wanted to say seemed to need more diplomacy than I was able to summon at the moment. I wanted to tell GM that I wished she would tell me what was going on and who had written the letters. I wanted to tell her that I had nearly died in Krov, and it was full of bad memories. I wanted to tell her that we couldn't go back to Krov because the village was crawling with vampires—and some of those vampires were eager for my return. But the right words just wouldn't come—especially for the last part. How could I hint at a danger that I wasn't allowed to name?
GM leaned forward. "What is it that is troubling you, Solnyshko? Are you worried about not having a visa? If that is the case, then you need worry no longer. I have already obtained visas for both of us. We can fly directly into Russia."
I was startled. When we had gone to Russia in October, we had actually had to fly into Georgia and sneak across the border because Russia required a visa for U.S. visitors while Georgia did not. If GM had visas for us already, then she had been planning the trip for some time now and had never mentioned it to me.
"GM," I said, "why won't you tell me what's going on?"
"It's Christmas, Katie. I haven't spent a Christmas in Russia in many years. I miss my homeland."
I felt a twinge of frustration. I knew GM was sincere when she said that, and to be fair, the reason she gave was a perfectly good one. But I couldn't shrug off a suspicion that that wasn't all there was to it. Then again, I wondered—what exactly was it that I suspected GM of? I really didn't know.
"Where are you thinking of staying in Krov?" I asked. "Odette's house?"
GM gave me a sharp look. "So is that what is troubling you? Your poor cousin? I can understand that it must be hard for you. It is hard for me, too, Solnyshko. You loved Odette and so did I. And hope is not lost entirely. People have been restored to their families after going missing for years, and Odette has only been gone a few months. We may yet see her again."
Seeing Odette again was one of the things I was worried about—as William had told Innokenti, it was entirely possible that Odette would return. She had gone missing. But she was not lost in the way that GM thought she was—in the way that an ordinary human girl would be lost. Odette had become a vampire, and in October she had tried to kill me. She had disappeared after that, and her house in Krov had been left vacant. If we settled ourselves into her house at Christmas, who was to say that she wouldn't return and resent our presence? I had seen Odette when she was angry—it was a truly terrifying sight.
So, Odette might come for me, and so might Innokenti and Anton—in fact, I had a pretty definite feeling that the last two would. If I went to Krov for Christmas, would I ever be allowed to leave again? Would I even survive whatever Innokenti and his fellow vampires had planned?
"GM, do we have to go to Russia for Christmas?" I asked uncomfortably.
GM's face fell. "I am forgetting how hard that trip was for you, aren't I? Not only did you lose your cousin, but you were kidnapped by that madman who used to be your teacher. And then you were in the hospital. I am sorry, Solnyshko. We do not have to go to Russia for Christmas."
I was sorry to see how disappointed GM looked. I could tell that she'd really had her heart set on going to Russia—but such a trip would be dangerous, and there was no way I could explain that to her.
"I'm sorry, GM," I said. "I just don't think I can do it."
GM reached across the table and patted my hand. "It is all right, Solnyshko. I hadn't quite realized how difficult this would be for you. We will not go."
"Now," GM said briskly, as if she'd completely banished the topic from her mind, "I believe you said you had something to tell me, too?"
Suddenly, I felt even worse. First, I'd ruined GM's Christmas plans. Now I was about to give her more bad news.
I had developed no clever plan of attack, so I decided just to plunge ahead.
"GM, please get too worked up over what I'm going to say."
GM raised one silver eyebrow. "Your tone does not inspire confidence, Solnyshko."
"Do you remember William Sursur?" I asked. "He got us out of the house that night when we were forced to flee to the airport. And he got me out of the Mstislav crypt in Krov. He also came to see us at the house in Krov right before we left."
GM's expression grew carefully blank. I knew that look—it was one she wore whenever I brought up a topic she didn't want to discuss. It was as I had feared—GM did not approve of William.
"I remember that he was very handsome," GM said.
"He meant a lot to me, GM."
"I also remember that he said the two of you could not be together. After all, he lives in Russia, and you live here."
"That's just it," I said. "William doesn't live in Russia anymore. He lives here."
GM was clearly startled. "He lives here in the United States?"
"He lives here in Elspeth's Grove."
GM's eyebrows rose. "What is this that you are telling me?"
"GM, are you angry?"
"That boy lives here now? He has followed you?"
"Why don't you like him?" I asked.
GM's voice rose. "You cannot see him. I don't want him in this house!"
"GM, please!" I cried. "He saved both our lives!"
GM fell silent.
"Why don't you like him?" I asked again. "What has he done?"
GM looked away. "I don't know anything about him. And he appears to be mixed up in some pretty dangerous things."
"Things he was trying to stop," I said.
GM looked at me. "What exactly is it that you want me to say?"
"Please don't be like that, GM. William is here in Elspeth's Grove. I like him. And he's really helped me. I want to see him. And if it's okay with you, I would like William to come over here, so you can talk to him and see that he's a good person."
GM looked down at her teacup, and she didn't say anything for a long time. I began to hope that she was wavering.
"There is something in what you say," she said at last. "You are a good girl. I suppose I can trust your judgment."
She looked up at me again. "I confess that I don't entirely know my own mind in this case. Perhaps the problem is that I just don't want you getting any older."
As I looked at GM, I felt tears stinging my eyes. "GM, you don't have to worry that you're going to lose me. You have to know that I will always love you. Nothing will ever change that."
GM stood and walked around the table to me.
"I know, Solnyshko. I will always love you, too. I have been both your grandmother and your mother. And it is sometimes hard for a mother to see her child grow up."
I hugged her back tightly.
GM straightened up and brushed a hand over my hair.
"When would you like your William to come over?"
I didn't want to rush things, but I knew the appearance of Innokenti and Anton had made it necessary for me to get William on good terms with GM as soon as possible.
"Is tomorrow okay?"
GM blinked. "Tomorrow?"
"I know it's sudden—"
GM waved a hand. "It is all right, Solnyshko. Invite him over for dinner. I will make pasta. Everyone likes pasta."
"Thank you, GM. Thanks for William and thanks about Russia."
GM pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Anything for you, Solnyshko."
GM cleared away her cup and left the room.
I was left with my full cup of tea and a sense of relief. I was very happy that William would be able to come over tomorrow—though I realized that I didn't know if he actually ever ate anything or not. I supposed we would think of something if he didn't. And now that GM would allow William to be in the house, it made me feel a bit better about the fact that Innokenti and Anton were lurking out there somewhere. I wished William had told me how he knew Anton. Anton seemed much more dangerous than Innokenti—and Innokenti didn't seem safe.
I stood up and poured my tea into the sink. I had homework to do, but I wandered into the living room where I knew I would find a picture of GM and my grandfather.
The picture I was looking for stood on a table with other pictures of family and friends—a number of them featuring me. Some of the people were unknown to me, but the pictures of my parents and my grandparents sat side by side next to one another right in the center. The picture of my parents was from their wedding—my mother, pale and blond like me, my father just a little darker with light brown curly hair. Both of them were beaming, and my mother was holding a single flower. It was curious that no one else seemed to be in attendance.
And then there was the picture of my grandparents.
I picked their photo up. My grandmother had been blond when she was younger, as had my grandfather. They looked like a perfectly normal couple—it was hard to believe that my grandfather had truly been one of the Sìdh.
As I looked at my grandfather, I wondered what he was like. GM believed that he had died, but Galina told me that he still lived and that he had gone back to his people. I wondered if he knew that GM lived in another country now, and if he ever saw her—even if she didn't see him. GM didn't speak about him very much, but I knew that she had loved him. And she'd told me that I would have loved him too.
I set the picture down and walked up the stairs to my room.
I did have homework to do—if I could keep my mind on it. I told myself to firmly to forget about GM's letters. And I told myself not to think too much about Anton and Innokenti. They hadn't actually threatened me directly, and I knew William would watch over the house. Maybe he was right—maybe the presence of the two vampires in town was just a scare tactic.
I was still just a little too wound up to get to work, so I wandered around the room, straightening things up. As I walked past my dresser and the large mirror over it, I thought I saw something moving in the mirror—something that wasn't my own image.
I stopped, startled, and peered into the mirror. I saw only my own face and the room behind me.
I told myself I hadn't actually seen anything out of the ordinary.
I shrugged off my nerves and went to my desk, determined to finally get to work.
As I opened my books, however, I couldn't help thinking of the mirror, and an image flashed in my mind of what I had seen.
There had been a second image in the mirror. I had seen a shadow walking behind me.
October 12, 2012
Thanks!
Thanks to everyone who participated in the giveaway! I've decided to change the title, based on the feedback I've recieved, and I'll do a new giveaway once the redesign is up. It should only be a day or two :) Thanks again for all of your input!
Free Giveaway of Book 2, Ignis
All day Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, Oct. 12, 13, 14, download your own free copy of Ignis at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Ignis-Book-2-Pure-ebook/dp/B0099T174G.
You don't need to own a Kindle to download Ignis -- you can get a free Kindle app at http://www.amazon.com/gp/feature.html?ie=UTF8&docId=1000493771.
September 24, 2012
Thanks!
Thanks to everybody who participated in my giveaway of Pure!
Free Giveaway of Book 1, Pure
All day Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, Sept. 28, 29, 30, download your own free copy of Pure at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/pure-ebook/dp/B004XJ7NQI/.
You don't need to own a Kindle to download Pure -- you can get a free Kindle app at http://www.amazon.com/gp/feature.html?ie=UTF8&docId=1000493771.
You don't need to own a Kindle to download Pure -- you can get a free Kindle app at http://www.amazon.com/gp/feature.html?ie=UTF8&docId=1000493771.
August 3, 2011
Excerpt from Pure, Chapter 10
Hi everyone,Here's an excerpt from Pure that's a little further along in the book. (If you click on the posts from May on the right, you can read the first three chapters. Work still continues on the next book, Ignis!)
I backed away from the smoke into the surrounding trees. The smoke did not follow, as I had half-feared it might, and once I was clear of it, I could see that it was concentrated in the open space of the grove. I looked over the whole mass of the dark, writhing vapor. There was a line of the smoke trailing back the way I had originally come. There was another line running deeper into the woods. I had seen the smoke at Mr. Neverov's house and at Mr. Del Gatto's – was it possible the smoke trail had something to do with Gleb? It certainly wasn't anything normal. I wondered if I already had the clue I had been searching for – the smoke. I had a strange feeling that the police wouldn't have been able to see it – just as Mrs. Hannity hadn't been able to see it. I knew I should be getting back to GM, but I wanted to find out what was going on with the smoke. I folded up the yearbook photo and put it in my coat pocket. Then I followed the smoke trail deeper into the trees. I hurried along as fast as I could, dodging branches. I had been to these woods many times, so I knew them well. Up ahead, I knew there was a cave. I had an uneasy feeling that that was where the smoke trail led. Following an impulse I didn't quite understand, I grabbed for my neck, searching for the iron charm William had given me. I realized that my neck was bare – I had forgotten to put the necklace on that morning. I felt a brief stab of panic that I quickly pushed aside. I told myself that I was being foolish – there was no reason for me to be concerned about not wearing a necklace. I hurried on. The trees thinned, and I could see a clearing ahead. The cave soon came into view. As I had feared, the trail of smoke wound down into the cave mouth. I hesitated for just a moment, and then plunged into it. The cave was dry – not dank as I had thought it would be – and there was light to see by at first. I followed the smoke deeper into the cave, and as I moved further from the mouth, the light grew dimmer. As the light dimmed, the smoke changed, turning white and luminescent. I continued to follow the writhing white smoke, even after all the natural light had gone, feeling along the cold stone walls with my hands. Twice I scraped my fingers across sharp rocks, and shortly after that I stumbled badly, falling on the unforgiving cave floor. My elbow hurt, and I could feel that I'd torn the knee of my jeans. I got up and kept going. Eventually, I spied a bright light up ahead, and a thick, whispering voice filtered up to me. But I couldn't understand what the voice was saying, and I crept closer. I could see that there was a chamber up ahead. Concealing myself behind an outcropping of rock, I peered into the chamber. A large man, heavily swathed in furs, was sitting on a flat rock with his back to me, and there was a lantern on the floor in front of him that cast a harsh glare up toward the ceiling. The smoke that I had followed wound into the chamber – white in the darkness, black where it touched the light. It whirled in a ghostly, windless tornado, concentrating particularly around the man in furs. Across from the man, I could see the shoulder of a second figure – it looked to be another man – though I couldn't be sure. The face of the far figure was blocked by the bulk of the man in furs, but I was pretty certain that the second figure was the one doing the whispering. Now that I could hear better, the whispered words had a harsh, malevolent sound. I felt a chill steal over me. I strained to listen, but I still couldn't understand what was being said. I would have to go closer. I had just made up my mind to edge further into the chamber when I felt fingers lace around my wrist, and I was pulled backward forcefully. I nearly cried out – but I quickly thought better of it – the two figures in the cave chamber didn't seem terribly friendly. In the dim light from the white smoke, I could just see a large, dark shape looming beside me. I tugged on my imprisoned wrist, but I found that I was held in a grip of iron. I was pulled forcefully to my feet, and then dragged back along the cave tunnel away from the lit chamber.
I backed away from the smoke into the surrounding trees. The smoke did not follow, as I had half-feared it might, and once I was clear of it, I could see that it was concentrated in the open space of the grove. I looked over the whole mass of the dark, writhing vapor. There was a line of the smoke trailing back the way I had originally come. There was another line running deeper into the woods. I had seen the smoke at Mr. Neverov's house and at Mr. Del Gatto's – was it possible the smoke trail had something to do with Gleb? It certainly wasn't anything normal. I wondered if I already had the clue I had been searching for – the smoke. I had a strange feeling that the police wouldn't have been able to see it – just as Mrs. Hannity hadn't been able to see it. I knew I should be getting back to GM, but I wanted to find out what was going on with the smoke. I folded up the yearbook photo and put it in my coat pocket. Then I followed the smoke trail deeper into the trees. I hurried along as fast as I could, dodging branches. I had been to these woods many times, so I knew them well. Up ahead, I knew there was a cave. I had an uneasy feeling that that was where the smoke trail led. Following an impulse I didn't quite understand, I grabbed for my neck, searching for the iron charm William had given me. I realized that my neck was bare – I had forgotten to put the necklace on that morning. I felt a brief stab of panic that I quickly pushed aside. I told myself that I was being foolish – there was no reason for me to be concerned about not wearing a necklace. I hurried on. The trees thinned, and I could see a clearing ahead. The cave soon came into view. As I had feared, the trail of smoke wound down into the cave mouth. I hesitated for just a moment, and then plunged into it. The cave was dry – not dank as I had thought it would be – and there was light to see by at first. I followed the smoke deeper into the cave, and as I moved further from the mouth, the light grew dimmer. As the light dimmed, the smoke changed, turning white and luminescent. I continued to follow the writhing white smoke, even after all the natural light had gone, feeling along the cold stone walls with my hands. Twice I scraped my fingers across sharp rocks, and shortly after that I stumbled badly, falling on the unforgiving cave floor. My elbow hurt, and I could feel that I'd torn the knee of my jeans. I got up and kept going. Eventually, I spied a bright light up ahead, and a thick, whispering voice filtered up to me. But I couldn't understand what the voice was saying, and I crept closer. I could see that there was a chamber up ahead. Concealing myself behind an outcropping of rock, I peered into the chamber. A large man, heavily swathed in furs, was sitting on a flat rock with his back to me, and there was a lantern on the floor in front of him that cast a harsh glare up toward the ceiling. The smoke that I had followed wound into the chamber – white in the darkness, black where it touched the light. It whirled in a ghostly, windless tornado, concentrating particularly around the man in furs. Across from the man, I could see the shoulder of a second figure – it looked to be another man – though I couldn't be sure. The face of the far figure was blocked by the bulk of the man in furs, but I was pretty certain that the second figure was the one doing the whispering. Now that I could hear better, the whispered words had a harsh, malevolent sound. I felt a chill steal over me. I strained to listen, but I still couldn't understand what was being said. I would have to go closer. I had just made up my mind to edge further into the chamber when I felt fingers lace around my wrist, and I was pulled backward forcefully. I nearly cried out – but I quickly thought better of it – the two figures in the cave chamber didn't seem terribly friendly. In the dim light from the white smoke, I could just see a large, dark shape looming beside me. I tugged on my imprisoned wrist, but I found that I was held in a grip of iron. I was pulled forcefully to my feet, and then dragged back along the cave tunnel away from the lit chamber.
July 18, 2011
Pure Cover by Abigail Boyd
The very talented Abigail Boyd has created a terrific cover for Pure:
[image error] You can read more about her and her debut novel, Gravity, at http://abigailboyd.blogspot.com/.
[image error] You can read more about her and her debut novel, Gravity, at http://abigailboyd.blogspot.com/.
![[image error]](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TSBHZh1DHzM/TiR_NZtJVRI/AAAAAAAAACM/0QEV_XTtmMc/s1600/abbeyspure.jpg){kind=link}