Ignis (Book 2, Pure Series) (28 page)

           
I felt a strange longing to find out what lay beyond that golden light—a light that seemed to promise warmth and happiness.
 
But I felt an even stronger pull toward William.

           
"No, I can't," I said.
 
"I can't go with you."

           
"Katie, please.
 
We have to hurry."

           
"No."

           
Cormac looked stunned.
 
"You are refusing?
 
You choose to remain in a world of danger and death?"

           
"I'm choosing to remain with William."

           
Something I couldn't define flickered in Cormac's eyes.
 
"Very well.
 
At least I can take you to safety—for the moment.
 
Do you have friends nearby?"

           
"Yes.
 
There's a party in these woods.
 
I have friends there."

           
I looked around in the golden glow, intending to point the way, but it was impossible for me to tell which way we were facing.

           
Cormac closed his eyes.
 
"I have located them."

           
Without warning, the golden light that surrounded us intensified.
 
The glare became so bright that I was forced to close my eyes, and when I opened them again, I was startled to see that I was no longer standing with Cormac in amongst the trees.
 
Instead I was now back at Bryony's party, standing in the gazebo, surrounded by Bryony's party guests.

           
I turned around frantically.
 
My first thought was of Anton—I figured that if the glow were gone that he might be free now too.
 
But like Cormac, Anton was nowhere to be seen.
 
I continued to look over the crowd.
 
All of the partygoers looked relaxed, happy, unconcerned.

           
I felt a certain measure of relief—I figured I was safe from Anton at the moment, even if he were free of the golden glow.
 
He was unlikely to risk attacking me in the midst of the party—he had said himself that he intended to keep me away from it.

           
I knew I was safe for now, but I also knew I had to go home again.

           
And I knew that nightfall was inevitable.

           
I couldn't fend off an involuntary shudder, and I wrapped my arms around my body and closed my eyes.

           
"Katie!
 
There you are!"

           
I opened my eyes to see Simon pushing through the crowd toward me.

           
I made an effort to smile as Simon came to stand beside me.

           
"Hey," he said.
 
"Where have you been?
 
It was like you disappeared completely."

           
I struggled to come up with a plausible excuse for my absence, but Simon rushed on without waiting for an answer.

           
"Are you okay?" he asked suddenly.
 
"You're really pale.
 
And you're shaking.
 
Are you cold?"

           
I wasn't cold at all, but I could well imagine that I was pale.

           
"I'm fine, Simon."

           
"Are you sure?"

           
I knew there was no way I could possibly explain to Simon what had just happened to me—I wasn't entirely sure I understood it myself.

           
I looked into Simon's face—his expression was both good-natured and worried, and I felt cheered for a moment by his obvious concern.

           
"I'm fine.
 
I really am."

           
"I'm not sure I believe you when you say that," Simon said.
 
"Come and stand over here by one of the fires."

           
He bundled me over to a bright orange blaze, and I stood before it, until beads of perspiration formed on my forehead.
 
Eventually Simon relaxed his vigilant watch over me and began to talk with other party-goers again.

           
Only then did I allow myself to face the harsh truth that had just been revealed to me—the truth that I had been afraid to test before.

           
William had not come to me at school during the week as he had said he would.
 
In the forest, Anton had told me that William was gone.
 
Cormac, who had clearly despised Anton, had also said that William was gone.
 
And when I needed him, and I had called to him with the words he'd given me, he had not come to me—even though he'd promised me he always would.

           
Tears ran down my face, and I wiped them away quickly.
 
I hoped that anyone who saw me would think that I was just blotting my overheated skin and would not recognize that I was crying.

           
The truth was that William had abandoned me.

Chapter 10.

When GM picked me up after the party, I gave her a quick smile and turned my face to the window.
 
I hoped that she would assume I was tired and would not notice that anything was wrong.

           
I was to be disappointed.
 
The questions started as soon as we pulled away from the Old Grove.

           
"Are you ill, Solnyshko?"

           
I opened my eyes and glanced over at GM.
 
She was watching both me and the road, and her eye when it rested upon me was suspicious.
 
I looked away quickly.

           
"I'm fine, GM.
 
I'm just a little tired."
 
I tried to sound sleepy.

           
"No, no—I think you are ill. Your face is pale with red blotches."

           
I raised a hand to cover my face.
 
The crying I had done had left its mark, and GM had noticed—though she didn't quite recognize what it was.
 
Simon had noticed my crying also, and I had told him that cinders from the fire had gotten into my eyes.

           
He'd insisted on rinsing them with bottled water—and the coolness of the liquid had had an oddly calming effect.
 
At the very least it had helped me to stem the tide of my tears back at the party.

           
"You are ill," GM said firmly.
 
"Or you will be very shortly.
 
You spent too much time out in the cold.
 
I should have foreseen this."

           
"I'm fine," I protested.

           
But GM went on with her interrogation.

           
She asked me a series of questions—whether I felt too hot or had the chills—whether I felt achy all over.

           
GM continued her questions until we reached home.
 
I understood why she was so concerned that I might be ill—it was always the same reason.
 
She believed my mother had died of a fever—exacerbated by overexertion—so she always became nervous whenever she thought I was sick.
 
She didn't want illness to claim me too.

           
GM sent me up to my room to rest, and I was alone with my worries.

           
I sat on my bed and looked around my room.
 
The objects in it were the same as they had always been.
 
My favorite things were still there—my old coverlet, my picture of my parents and me, my lamp with the sunburst shade that reminded me of my mother—they were unchanged.
 
But my world had shifted dramatically.

           
Gone was my feeling of safety from last night.

           
I knew now that William was well and truly gone, and that no one was watching the house.
 
I also knew that at least two vampires were after me—if not more.
 
Anton and Joshua Martin had both attacked me, and as far as I knew, both of them were still in town.
 
I tried to remember exactly what Innokenti had said about there being a price on my head—but my memory refused to work, and my mind was clouded by fear.
 
I sat for a long time overcome by an unusual feeling.

           
I was in the unique and terrible position of knowing that my house was a target for creatures that drank human blood.

           
After the first wave of shock had worn off I thought of GM—I realized with horror that she was in danger too.
 
Vampires could come into our house at any time of the day or night, looking for me.
 
And I knew they wouldn't hesitate to kill her if she got in the way.

           
A fresh wave of panic washed over me.

           
I wanted to warn GM, but I knew she'd never believe me—and why should she?
 
She'd seen some strange things over the last few months, but she had no idea that she'd actually seen a few vampires.
 
And I certainly didn't have any evidence to offer her that would convince her.

           
I let my thoughts run down this gloomy track without my seeing any solution.
 
The longer I let my thoughts run, the more William began to crowd into them.

           
Soon the tears began to fall again, and I turned my face into my pillow.
 
I didn't want GM to hear me crying.

           
I cried until I had no more tears left, then I was left with a deep, horrible ache.

           
Why would William leave me?
 
Why would he leave without saying a word?

           
Why was he gone?

           
I lay on my bed watching the rest of the daylight fade away.
 
And I seemed to sink into insensibility.
 
It dulled the pain.

           
As shadows fell across the room, GM came in to check on me.

           
She turned on the light and clucked at me disapprovingly.

           
"You should be under the covers."

           
Once she had me settled in to her satisfaction, she stood with her hands on her hips.

           
"Your face is still pale with red blotches.
 
It is as I feared—you are ill, Solnyshko."

           
I began to protest that I was fine, but GM waved my protestations aside.

           
"You need to rest tonight.
 
If you are still ill in the morning, I will take you to see the doctor.
 
Doctor Lundin has Sunday hours, I believe."

           
I tried again to tell GM that I wasn't ill, but she interrupted me.

           
"I do not like the blotchiness," she said emphatically.

           
Then she left me to rest until dinner.

           
My thoughts immediately returned to William.
 
I felt the terrible pain returning to me—the pain of losing him, of never seeing him again—the pain of knowing that he didn't want me and that my love did not matter to him.
 
Hurt continued to wash over me in waves.

           
He had abandoned me completely, without even bothering to say good-bye.
 
I didn't even matter enough for him to tell me he was going.
 
I sank deeper and deeper into the pain.

           
I wanted to be angry with him, but I found that it just wasn't possible.
 
All I felt was sadness and a hurt so profound that I thought it would tear me apart.

           
The same question kept running through my mind.

           
Why had he left me?

           
Then something came to me through the haze.
 
I still had GM to consider—I'd have to come up with a way to keep her safe.
 
Despite my doubts about her reaction, I would have to try to warn her.
 
And I'd have to come up with a practical way to protect the house.
 
I made an effort to pull myself together.
 
I had to get myself into some kind of state where I could think properly.