Ignis (Book 2, Pure Series) (37 page)

           
We had literally been chased out of the house—by someone who had wanted to kill us.

           
But now, GM's purchases seemed extravagant, and Branden's remarks about Russian moonshine in Elspeth's Grove suddenly popped into my mind.
 
Of course, it was ridiculous for me to think even for a moment that GM was involved in anything illegal.
 
She was very proud and lived by a strict moral code.
 
I knew she would go after something fiercely if she wanted it.
 
But she would see criminal activity as the wrong route—and she would never take it.

           
I bent down to pick up a silvery chiffon blouse that GM had dropped.
 
As I ran my fingers over the fine fabric, it occurred to me that, taken all together, the clothes she had bought were at least as expensive as the entire trip to Russia—if not more so.

           
I didn't doubt GM's boast that she was adept at handling money.
 
All the same, I couldn't help wondering as I went to take the blouse back to her—how had GM found the money for so many expensive things?

           
The rest of the evening passed in a bit of a blur as I tried hard not to think of Anton's visit to the house earlier in the day.
 
I ate dinner, I did my homework, I talked with GM about our trip.

           
But as I lay in bed that night, the feelings that I had kept carefully bottled up since Anton's terrifying visit, suddenly broke free, overwhelming me.

           
I had avoided thinking about it, but I had to face it now.

           
Anton had done the worst thing possible.

           
He had at last given me the one thing I was missing—he had give me a good reason for why William had left me.
 
And I believed him.

           
Horrible coldness, horrible emptiness swept over me.
 
I drifted through wave after wave of pain.
 
I knew I cried because I felt tears running down my face, but the realization of it came to me distantly.

           
I was only dimly aware of myself, of my body—I had become nothing more than raw hurt.

           
Now, there was no longer any chance of my seeing William one last time.
 
There could be no reunion, no matter how brief.
 
Seeing me would deprive William of what he wanted most, and he would never let that happen.

           
William could have what he wanted now—he could have his memories back.
 
He could return to his old life.
 
He'd had a choice to make.
 
And he hadn't chosen me.

           
William was lost to me.

           
I was lost to myself now too.

           
I wasn't sure how to go on.

           
The night passed, and then it was day once more.
 
The world went on around me as if nothing had happened.
 
I managed to pull the hurt in, to bind it, suppress it.
 
I went on with my usual routine.
 
Day after day, I went to school.
 
I ate meals with GM.
 
We talked about the trip.
 
I took my exams.
 
Ten days went by.

           
Before I knew it, my last day of school had arrived.
 
Our bags were packed and waiting in the hall that morning when I came downstairs for breakfast.
 
GM and I were leaving for Russia that evening.
 
All I had to do was complete one more day, come home, eat dinner, and then we were off.

           
GM beamed at me across the breakfast table, and then gave me a hug as I turned to leave the house.
 
I was glad to see her looking so happy, and I was relieved that she didn't notice my abstraction.
 
GM's thoughts were clearly far away—in her mind she was surely in Russia already.

           
I stepped out into the cold, clear air to begin my walk to school.

           
My final day to decide had come at last.

           
I'd avoided thinking about the topic, but I was forced to confront it today.
 
Now that I knew for certain that William had given me up—why was I still going to Russia?

           
The trip, of course, was obviously making GM very happy—even through my mental fog, I had seen how her excitement had grown day by day.
 
And then, too, my canceling at this point would mean that GM would have spent a lot of money for nothing.

           
Those were two very good reasons still to go.

           
However, there was one major argument against going—the trip would be dangerous.
 
And now that there was no longer any hope for me to see William, was the risk worth it?
 
I would be heading back into the midst of all the supernatural terrors I had fled from—and I'd be taking GM into that danger along with me.

           
Innokenti had wanted me to go back to Russia—he'd said it would be safer for me.
 
But William had disagreed at the time, and now Anton rather astonishingly wanted me to say home too.
 
Despite the bizarre attacks I'd suffered from Joshua Martin and from Anton himself, I was inclined to believe that I was actually safer in Elspeth's Grove.

           
It seemed to me that I would be surrounded once I was back in Russia.

           
Of course, GM would be scornful if I tried to tell her about the danger to her.
 
And if by some miracle, I did manage to make her understand, I knew she'd want to charge out to meet it—with me safely stashed away somewhere else, of course.

           
And what about William?
 
Did I believe, despite what I knew, that there was a chance that I could see him again?

           
The answer was no.
 
By now William would be in possession of what he wanted, and he would be long gone.
 
He would have gone back to the Sìdh—he would be in a place I could never go.

           
So, I would go to Russia for GM.
 
And I would try to keep us both out of trouble.

           
I felt a twinge of the vast loneliness and hurt that I'd been keeping locked away.
 
I quickly pushed the feeling back into its prison.

           
I knew that if I let it out that it would overwhelm me.

           
When I reached school, I spotted Simon, Branden, and Charisse standing outside by their usual picnic table, despite the chill.
 
I'd been avoiding the three of them in the mornings so that I could study, but now that exams were over, I didn't really have an excuse not to be social.

           
I suddenly realized that depending on what happened in Russia, I might not ever see the three of them again.

           
It was a disturbing thought.

           
Charisse caught my eye and ran over to meet me.

           
She slipped an arm through mine and began to walk determinedly toward the school.

           
"You're coming with me," she said.
 
"No arguments."

           
"Charisse—I—"

           
I began to protest, but then stopped when I realized I didn't know why I was doing it.
 
Was I planning to argue with her simply out of habit?
 
I
did
want to talk to Charisse.
 
I had missed her—and there was something more.

           
I wanted to say goodbye.

           
Just in case.

           
Charisse steered me to the cafeteria and pushed me into a chair.

           
"All right, Katie.
 
Talk."

           
"Charisse—"

           
"I know, I know—you're always saying that you have to study.
 
Well, you don't have to study today.
 
And I'm not your best friend for nothing.
 
Something's wrong.
 
Something's been wrong for a while.
 
And you're going to tell me what it is."

           
"Okay," I said.

           
Charisse blinked in surprise.
 
"Okay?"

           
"Okay," I said again.

           
Charisse sat down.

           
I considered telling her everything.
 
It would be a relief to finally tell someone.
 
I thought about telling her that there was a price on my head.
 
I thought about telling her that there had been attacks.
 
I thought about telling her that William had abandoned me when I needed him most.
 
And I thought about telling her that I would never see him again.

           
I thought about telling her that I had been forced to make myself feel nothing—to go completely numb so as to control a pain that was so strong that it threatened to tear me apart.

           
I looked into her clear brown eyes and thought about telling her.

           
"We're going to Russia for Christmas," I began.
 
"We're leaving tonight.
 
And things there aren't quite right yet."

           
Charisse's eyes widened.
 
"To Russia?
 
To your grandmother's hometown again?"

           
"We're going to Moscow first.
 
But then after that, yes, we're returning to Krov."

           
Charisse stared at me.

           
I decided to plunge ahead.
 
"Like I said, there's a lot that's still wrong in Krov—some of it might be hard to believe—"

           
Charisse interrupted.
 
"Oh, Katie.
 
No wonder you've been so closed off and jumpy.
 
Your grandmother wants to take you back there?
 
Where a murderer kidnapped you and imprisoned you in a crypt?
 
Why didn't you refuse?"

           
"I did, at first—"

           
"Oh, Katie, I understand now.
 
I understand everything."

           
Charisse hugged me impulsively, and I realized that the moment for confession had passed.
 
Charisse had latched onto the wrong reason for my being distant and had given me a way out.

           
With an odd twinge of regret, I decided to go with it.
 
Ultimately, it would be easier for both of us.

           
Charisse would never have believed the truth anyway.

           
She sat back in her chair.
 
"Katie, the memories must be horrible.
 
Why is she making you go?"

           
"She's not making me go.
 
I said no at first, and then I changed my mind."

           
"Why?
 
Why did you change your mind?
 
And why does she want to go?"

           
"I honestly don't know why GM wants to go.
 
But she seems really happy about it—really excited."

           
Charisse frowned.
 
"She doesn't have a new boyfriend, does she?
 
I'd say it's pretty uncharacteristic of your grandmother to take you back to a place where your life was threatened.
 
I'd hate to see another Joshua Martin situation developing."

           
I was startled.
 
"A boyfriend?
 
GM?
 
GM's never had a boyfriend.
 
No—I'm sure it's nothing like that."

           
Charisse eyed me again.
 
"You're really and truly going?"

           
"Yes."

           
"I don't blame you for acting weird.
 
Promise me you'll stay safe."

           
"I'll try."

           
I felt a sudden rush of affection for Charisse.
 
We had been friends since we were both small.
 
And now that the trip to Russia was actually upon me, at the back of my mind a fear was steadily growing on me—the fear that I might never return to Elspeth's Grove.
 
What if today truly was the last time I would ever see her?