Dreams (Sarah Midnight Trilogy 1) (24 page)

“Is he human, do you think?”

“I don’t know. I think so. He’s clearly not one of the Valaya. He saved my life. And yours.”

I should have saved your life
. “You must tell me if you see him again.”

Sarah didn’t reply. She was suddenly angry, with Harry, with Leaf, with her enemies, with her parents, with the whole world. She didn’t even know why. Her sense of disappointment, of betrayal, was all-consuming, like a grey hole in the middle of her life.

“Sarah?”

“I’ll tell you.”
I won’t. I can’t. I want to, but I can’t
.

Harry sighed.
She won’t. She’s used to keeping secrets; she’ll keep this one and she’ll keep it well
.

They were silent for a minute, a black cloud on Harry’s forehead, his eyes lowered to the floor, in quiet anger. Sarah felt a rising tide of anxiety take hold of her, until she started shaking with fear. She curled up into herself, bringing her knees closer to her chest, her hair falling on her face to hide her, to protect her.

Am I making a mistake? Is Leaf someone to fear? Why does he not stop and talk to me, at least tell me his real name?

“I know who the demon-mist belonged to,” she murmured. “I heard it in my dreams. Sheila Douglas.”

Harry’s face set into something hard, something that made him look like a stranger and made Sarah feel terribly, infinitely alone.

“I’m going to find her. She’s got to pay,” he said coldly, calmly.

Sarah brought a hand to her chest. She was breathless again.

“Harry, there’s no point, her demon is dead. You said it yourself: once the demons are destroyed, the humans die. Don’t go.”

“I don’t care. She’s got to pay,” he repeated.

“Harry!”

Harry took Sarah by the shoulders, and looked her in the eye. They faced each other for a long moment.
How easy it would be to kiss her now, to claim her for my own, to squash whatever there is between her and Leaf
…

“I have to keep you alive, Sarah.”

“Not by killing other people,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“Whatever it takes.”

“No, that’s not the way …”

But Harry had gone already. Sarah ran after him.

“You won’t hurt her, will you?”

Harry was speechless. He turned around abruptly, and Sarah nearly bumped into him.

“Sarah. These are your parents’ killers. And they want to kill you too. Do you realize that?”

“Of course I do! But I don’t want human blood on my hands! Or yours! That’s not the way it’s meant to be!”

“I won’t kill her, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“What will you do?”

“Teach her a lesson.”

They had got to the garage. He started the car. His eyes were very cold, very clear, and Sarah felt afraid.

“Jump in. I can’t leave you here alone,” he called, looking straight ahead.

I can’t leave you alone either
, thought Sarah, and slipped into the car.

They were quiet throughout the journey, and Sarah looked out of the window. The city streets, the blond sandstone tenements under a heavy sky, the grey castle, rising from the volcano, watching over the city like a sentinel.

Princes Street was busy and full of life: people walking fast in the chilly afternoon air, huddled up in coats and scarves, tourists taking pictures of the sights, and a very, very noisy piper playing over the traffic noise.

“There we are. New You, third floor. Fancy a new nose?”

Sarah sighed, and looked down. She felt nervous, on edge. She slipped a hand under her top, to check that the dagger was there, and flexed her hands nervously in an unconscious gesture, as if to get them ready.

“I’ll go myself, if you want.” Harry’s eyes were hard.

“No. I’m coming.”
Better keep an eye on you
.

Harry’s pocket beeped, and he took out his iPhone.

“Again? Who do you speak to all the time?”

“My friends, you know that.”

“
Those
friends?”

“Yes.”

“Who
are
they?” Sarah was exasperated. Harry’s friends seemed to be in her life a lot, and to know so much, while she didn’t even know their names.

“They’re good people to know. People I can trust.”

“Have you known them long?”

Harry didn’t reply. Sarah knew he wouldn’t say any more.

“Right. Let’s go. Oh, Sarah?”

“Yes?”

“Have you taken your vitamins? The ones Juliet brought?”

Sarah was flabbergasted. She was taken by surprise, and she couldn’t help laughing.

“What?”

“You were pretty ill yesterday, and with all that’s happening …”

“Yes, Mum. I took them this morning.”

“Ha ha.”

She was touched. The way Harry could be focused, and cold, and ruthless one second, and then warm and caring the next – it made her heart beat faster; it made her want to solve his mystery, to own the whole of him, not just some parts, the ones he allowed her to know.

“You’re still a bit pale.”

“I’m always pale. It’s the famous Midnight ghostly complexion. You don’t have it, though,” she noticed, looking at his golden skin.

“That’s the southern hemisphere for you.”

They walked in. Everything looked polished, luxurious. A place for people who wanted to buy new bodies.

“How can I help?” asked the receptionist.

“My wife and I …”

Wife?

“… are looking for a consultation. We’d like some advice on … procedures.”

“Sure. Your names?”

“Harry and Sarah Midnight. We’d like to see Ms Douglas. She’s been recommended to us.”

“Right, let me see … nothing until next week, I’m afraid.”

“We’re family friends. I’m sure if you tell her we’re here she’ll see us straight away.”

“Very well, I’ll try.” She picked up the phone.“Ms Douglas? There’s a Harry Midnight and a Sarah Midnight here to see you for a consultation. They said you might want to see them straight away. Sure. I’ll show them in.”

Sarah’s chest was tight. Here we go …

“Follow me, please,” the receptionist said suavely. She led them down a softly lit corridor, and knocked at a door.

“Come on in!” A clipped, hard voice called. The receptionist disappeared, discreetly, leaving behind a cloud of perfume. Sheila Douglas was standing at her desk, her face a mask of hatred and disbelief.

“How can you still be alive?” she whispered, a whisper that was like a scream.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Harry shrugged.

“Is my demon … is it …?”

“Dead and buried, yes. Well, dissolved. Sorry.”

“How did you …? How? It was strong … it killed so many … it can’t be. You’re bluffing.”

“It was hard to kill, I’ll give you that. We needed some help. But here we are.”

Sheila made a sound between a sob and a grunt, so incongruous with her polished persona that Sarah felt her chest tighten some more.
What’s going to happen now? Is she going to try to kill us? Or is Harry going to try to kill her?
She didn’t know what was worse.

“You don’t think you’re safe now, do you? Because the Valaya is not finished. We won’t rest until you’re dead.”

“We know. There’s a few more Surari, and that Mistress woman, isn’t there?” Harry’s tone was flippant, but Sarah knew him well enough to detect the steel in his voice.

“How do you know of her?”

“The sapphires told us,” answered Harry cryptically.

“The Mistress awaits you, yes. Even if you managed to kill us all, there’d be her at the end of it. Oh …” Sheila brought a hand to her head, as if in sudden pain.

Sarah gasped. Was that Harry? Doing that to her?

“Who is she? Who is the Mistress?” pressed Harry.

“I’ve said enough. Now go!” Sheila took her head in her hands, her face contorted in pain. Sarah tried to breathe in again, but found that she couldn’t. Her chest was so tight, she thought she’d suffocate.

“Are you scared, Sarah? Because you should be!” Sheila looked up, her eyes shining with a frantic light. “You, little Sarah, you’ll be in a grave with your parents soon. What do you think you’re doing?” she screeched, looking somewhere over Sarah’s shoulder.

Sarah followed her gaze and turned around. Harry had his dagger in his hand, and his eyes were icy. Sarah swallowed. He looked ready to kill; he looked like he
wanted
to kill.

“Are you going to stab me?” Sheila laughed again, then she brought her hand to her forehead, in pain again.

“Harry, no!”
He can’t. That’s not the Midnight mission. We don’t kill human beings!

Harry ignored Sarah. He raised the hand carrying the dagger and started tracing his runes with the tip of the s
gian-dubh
, cutting the air. Sheila had her eyes fixed on the blade, as if she’d been hypnotized. Sarah was expecting her to start shuddering, and was bracing herself for wounds to appear all over Sheila’s body like it had happened to the white Feral, but nothing happened.

Nothing.

With one last, sharp movement, Harry put down the
sgiandubh
and slipped it back in his sock. His cold, clear eyes betrayed no emotion.

“What have you done to me?” screeched Sheila, jumping up. Her chair fell backwards.

“Is everything OK, Ms Douglas?” The receptionist opened the door ever so slightly, enough to put her head in.

“Yes, yes, of course. I just need to finish this consultation.” Sheila’s voice sounded hoarse. Frightened. The receptionist looked at them suspiciously, but closed the door, muttering an apology.

“Do you want to know what I did, Ms Douglas?” said Harry, his tone even, his face hard as stone. “Let’s just say that whenever I choose, you’ll fall asleep. It might happen when you’re in the car … or you might be turning the gas on, or stepping down the stairs … Well, you get the drift.”

Sheila looked at him, wide-eyed. “I don’t believe you.” Her expression and her voice said the opposite.

Harry raised a hand, as if he was blessing her, and traced something in the air. Sheila fell on the floor, out cold. Sarah clasped her hands on her mouth.

Harry raised his hand again, and traced the same symbol, in reverse. Sheila opened her eyes suddenly, gasping, struggling for breath.

“You’ll pay for this,” she hissed, looking at him like you’d look at a raging dog: with anger, and fear.

“If the Valaya bothers us again, I’ll make you fall asleep. If I don’t wake you up, it’ll take you hours to wake up by yourself. In the meanwhile, anything could happen. And I hope it does.”

“I wouldn’t be able to stop them, not even if I wanted to! You’ll gain nothing from killing me!” Sheila spat.

“At least I will have had some satisfaction. I hope you die a painful death, Sheila Douglas, for wishing Sarah in her grave.”

Sarah was horrified to hear him speaking like that.
As if he were just like them. As if he were one of the Valaya, and no better
.

The last thing Sarah saw as they walked out was Sheila sitting at her desk with her head in her hands, her eyes semiclosed, as if she were in the grip of a terrible pain.

The noise of traffic in Princes Street hit them like a wall. The heavens had opened. They ran to the car under the pouring rain.

“What are we going to do now?” Sarah dried her face with her hands, her long hair soaking.

“We wait. They won’t be long.”

No, they won’t be long. Maybe now, maybe this afternoon, this evening, tonight. There’ll be no rest, no rest until the Valaya has been defeated. And after that, there’d be something else. No rest forever.

No rest, until sooner or later something manages to kill us.

Wait for me, I’m coming home

Light the fire and close the curtains

After love was gone

Love arrived

The phone rang while Sarah was practising her cello. She stopped, reluctantly, and dragged herself out of the state of grace she always fell into when she was playing – that suspended state of perfect concentration that had her mind, her body, her heart and her soul aligned with each other, like a constellation. For all the years she wasn’t allowed to tell anyone what really went on in her life, Sarah could speak through her music. Music was everything to her, her respite from constant fear, from loneliness and loss. Her refuge and her way to ask the world to be seen, to be loved.

“Hello? Hi Bryony. Yes, she’s here. Sarah!” she heard Harry say as he answered the phone.

“Coming,” she called, sighing. She was always happy to speak to Bryony, but she
needed
to practise. The audition was only seven weeks away, and with all that was going on …