Dead of Night (15 page)

Instead of using the road that passed the farm, Connor drove into the woods in front of Kari's apartment building.

“It's almost midnight,” he called back to me over his shoulder. “This is faster.”

I gave him a thumbs-up, and then looked ahead at the old trail he was taking. Jesse and I had never ridden out this far, but I knew it crossed his property. Connor would be able to drop me off practically at my front door.

Something big and fast-moving darted in front of the bike, making Connor swerve to avoid it, and I grabbed his waist as we wobbled and almost toppled over. He righted the bike just at the last minute and stopped an inch away from the massive trunk of an old oak, and flipped up his visor.

“Did you see that?” he asked me.

Before I could answer a horse came barreling out of the brush, its eyes wild and its legs churning as it reared. I realized it was Rika the minute I saw her swollen belly, and jumped off the bike, tearing off the helmet as I got between her and Connor.

“Turn the bike off,” I told him as I held out my hands. “Rika, it's me. It's okay.”

The Arabian dropped down, her ears pricking at the sound of my voice, and then she glared at Connor.

I approached her slowly, still talking to her in a soothing voice. “You're okay now, it's all right. This is my friend, Connor. He's not going to hurt you.”

Once I got hold of her halter, I stroked her neck and rubbed her shoulder, bringing her head down to mine. “Connor, I'm going to have to walk her back to the farm. Wait for a few minutes before you start up the bike; the sound probably spooked her.”

He dropped the kickstand and took off his helmet. “I'll walk with you.” As I started to tell him no, he said, “I promised Kari I'd make sure you got home okay. I am not going back there and telling her I left you alone in the woods with a runaway horse. I value my life too much.”

“Okay, but stay where she can see you,” I warned him.

Together with Connor I led Rika across Jesse's property, stopping at the old Ravenov manor house to let her rest and have a little water. While she drank, I checked her over, but found no injuries to indicate she'd broken out of her stall.

“I don't understand how she got loose,” I said to Connor as I retrieved a lead rope from one of the posts and tied it to her halter. “She's kept in the barn all night. They must have forgotten to bring her in.” As soon as I got home I was going to give both my brothers a piece of my mind.

“There have been a lot of strange things happening with horses around here,” Connor told me. “You've heard about the ones that were killed, right?”

I nodded. “Our vet told us about Mr. Palmer's stallions. He was the guy who sold Rika to us before he left town.”

“It's not just Palmer's horses,” Connor said. “I've been getting all kind of weird reports for the Ledger. From what I've pieced together, these two guys have been going around the farms, sneaking into barns. Sometimes they attack the horses with knives. Other times they turn them loose and run them off. No one knows why.”

I thought of the descriptions Sheriff Yamah had gotten of the man who had abducted Becca Hamilton. “Is one young, and the other one old?”

He looked astonished. “Yeah, how did you know?”

“Whoever has been hurting the horses may be the same guys who are taking these girls.” I told him about the call the sheriff had gotten earlier, and the descriptions of the two men. “Has anyone recognized the guys hurting the horses? I mean, are they local, or maybe a couple of pickers?”

“No, but there is one thing. Mr. Palmer went to Ringers' Tavern the night before he left town,” Connor said. “He was pretty upset, and started knocking back shots like they were going to be outlawed tomorrow. He told some guys there that he saw who attacked his horses. He said it was a ghost.”

“There's no such thing as ghosts,” I assured him.

“Well, if there is,” he said, “Palmer said this one looked just like Old Man Hargraves.”

Fifteen

C
onnor stayed with me as I put Rika back into the barn, which was where Gray found us as he rode in on Flash.

“You found her.” He dismounted and led the grumpy palomino back to his stall before he joined us. “She all right?”

“She was,” I said as the Arabian began pawing the ground. “Keep your distance.” I led her into her stall, taking off her halter before I came back out and latched the door. “What did you do? Leave her outside all night?”

“Trick put them away after dark,” he told me. “He must have forgotten to throw the latch.”

“Was the barn door open when you came out here and found her gone?” As Gray nodded, I asked, “Do you think he left that open, too?”

Gray started to say something, and then looked at Connor. “What's he doing here?”

“He gave me a ride home.” I introduced them, although it was hard to keep the irony out of my voice. Gray knew exactly who Connor was, and Connor hadn't been forced to forget my brother.

“Nice to meet you,” Connor said before he turned to me. “I've got to get back before my girlfriend calls in the Marines. Talk to you later.”

Gray waited until Connor left before he started on me. “How do you know him, and why is he bringing you home?”

“You caught me. I'm having a wild affair with Connor Devlin and his girlfriend.” I uttered a blissful sigh. “Do you think Trick will mind me being part of a threesome?”

My brother scowled. “You're not doing that.”

“You know, you're right. I'm not. Connor is a nice boy who just gave me a ride home. Deal with it.” I walked out of the barn.

At the house I expected to see Trick waiting for me, but as Gray came in he told me he'd gone to bed.

“Lucky for you,” he added. “If he'd seen you with that boy, he'd have gone ballistic.”

“I'm sorry,” I said in my best insincere tone. “Am I not allowed to have friends?”

“That guy is not your friend,” my brother said. “And you didn't go shopping tonight.”

“No, I didn't,” I confessed. “I actually broke into an empty house to search it for hidden documents. When the sheriff caught me, I almost killed him.” I batted my eyelashes at him. “But I was able to blackmail him into keeping his mouth shut, so no real harm done.”

Gray looked uncertain. “You're not funny.”

“I'm not joking.” I went upstairs.

As tired as I felt, I had trouble falling asleep, and when I finally drifted off I dreamed of horses being chased through the woods by a maniac who kept changing back and forth from an old man to Jesse. As he attacked me, Rika suddenly appeared and began trampling him, but he wouldn't die. It seemed so real that when he turned and came at me with the knife I woke up and almost screamed.

My clock radio said it was only five a.m., but no way was I going back to sleep. Instead I took a long, hot shower, and once I'd dressed I went downstairs to start breakfast.

My pancakes weren't going to win any prizes, but it felt good to cook and work off the anxiety left over by the nightmare. When my brothers got up an hour later I had the table set and breakfast ready.

“Morning,” Trick said as he made a beeline for the coffee maker. He eyed the full pot I'd made for him. “My birthday is in July.”

“I couldn't sleep.” I took out some orange juice and filled the glasses I'd set out on the table. “Rika got loose last night.”

“What?”

“I found her in the woods across the road.” I briefly described what happened, and I didn't bother to lie about Connor bringing me home. “Did you forget to latch her door?”

“I don't think so.” Instead of jumping on me for riding home with a boy, Trick looked at Gray. “What were you doing out there, riding around in the dark on Flash?”

“I found Rika gone when I went out to groom him,” he said, giving me a resentful look. “I didn't think she'd wandered that far.”

“Right. Like Rika would never go anywhere once she got loose.” I brought the sausage I'd cooked over on a plate and thumped it down in front of him. “You're an idiot.”

“Catlyn.” Trick came over and sat down. “I thought Kari's parents were bringing you home.”

“Nope, I rode in on the back of Connor's dirt bike. He took me through the woods.” I forked a couple of pancakes onto my plate and grabbed a sausage patty from the pile Gray had shoveled onto his plate. “Yet strangely, nothing bad happened to me, and I was able to catch Rika.” I looked at both my brothers. “Isn't that absolutely incredible?”

Trick put down his coffee mug. “If you have something on your mind, Cat, maybe you should just come out and say it.”

Here was my chance. I could tell them that I remembered, that I knew what they had done, and how Trick's brainwashing hadn't worked. I could detail all the times Jesse and I had met in secret at the bookstore, and what we'd discovered about Julian Hargraves. I could even tell them what I'd promised to do for the sheriff.

The moment I did, Trick would grab me and use his ability to make me forget all of it.

He might do worse this time.
Pain pounded inside my temples as if my conscience were taking a hammer to the inside of my skull.
He and Gray might go after Jesse.

“Kari invited me to a party in town on Christmas Eve,” I said. “I'd like to go, but I'm not going to ask. You'll just say no like you always do.” I slammed down my fork. “I can't have friends. I can't get a ride home from a nice boy. I can't have a life. Something terrible might happen to me, right?”

Trick regarded me as if I'd grown another head. “Why don't you ask and find out?”

I folded my arms. “Can I go to Kari's party?” Before he replied I warned, “It's at night, at the garage where Connor works. I'm told there will be tacos.”

He sipped some coffee and opened the paper. “Will there be any adults there to chaperone?”

“Probably not.” I saw pictures of the first two girls who had gone missing on the front page of the paper, and seeing them side by side made me notice again how much they resembled each other.
They could be sisters.

“I'm not crazy about you going to an unchaperoned party,” Trick said, “but as long as we drop you off and pick you up at a reasonable hour, you can go.”

I forgot about Kari's party as I looked across the table at Gray. “Do you know a girl at school named Becca Hamilton?”

He nodded. “She was in my Trig class.”

Yamah's description of Becca came back to me, but I wanted to be sure. “What did she look like?”

“I don't know. Tall. Skinny.” He shrugged. “Average.”

She's pretty average
,
Tiffany had said when she'd described Sunny Johnson to me.
Brown eyes, long brown hair, kinda skinny
.
When I'd first seen the photo of Melissa Wayne in the paper, I'd presumed it was another picture of Sunny. Then I remembered what Mrs. Frost had said on my first day at work, when I asked her why Sunny's mother had kept staring at me.
From a distance you probably look exactly like her.

“Gray, does Becca have long dark hair and pale skin?” When he nodded, I took the paper out of Trick's hands and folded it over to show Gray the photos of the two other missing girls. “Does she look like them?”

“I guess.” His gaze shifted from the paper to my face, and he frowned.

I got up and went to the phone, but I didn't know the number to the sheriff's office. I also didn't know what I was going to say to him. I didn't think he'd believe me if I told him what I'd confirmed about all three girls. They didn't just resemble each other.

They all looked like me.

Jesse didn't come to the store for the rest of the week, but each afternoon I found a pale white rose waiting
for me on Mrs. Frost's desk. I missed him, and knowing he was out hunting the vampire every night kept me in a constant state of fear and worry, but I knew I couldn't help him with this. A part of me was glad I didn't have to find out just what sort of vampire hunter I might be.

To keep from brooding I threw myself into finishing the store's inventory, which I finished the day before Christmas Eve. That afternoon I hauled the rest of the bins out of the storeroom and began cataloging the remaining portion of Julian Hargraves's collection.

Without Jesse there it was slow, dull work. I no longer found any of the books fascinating, not now that I knew why Julian had been so obsessed with the occult, so I hurried through each bin. That was probably the reason I found the letter the old man had written to Mrs. Frost; in my haste I dropped an enormous book on ancient Egyptian rituals, and as soon as it hit the floor the envelope tucked inside slipped out.

No name had been written on the outside, and the envelope had never been sealed. I opened the flap and took out the single page, unfolding it to read:

My Dear Martha,

I am sure you will find this as you are making up a catalog of my books; you would not sell off the collection without first having them appraised. That is why I have hidden my journals within the collection, so that you might understand my struggle against death. You must read these first, and then you will understand the rest of what I write here.

I have recovered some of the blood belonging to the immortal girl, and tonight I plan to use it in an ancient ritual of rebirth. My findings have indicated that her blood will reverse the aging process, and restore me to a state of youth that will never end.

I am willing to share my rejuvenation with you. You can be eternally young with me, and we can have the love that life denied us. Come to me as soon as you have read everything. I will be waiting for you at the house.

Yours,

Julian

Blood. Immortal girl. Rebirth.
The words kept leaping off the page into my face, and I groped for a chair as I read the letter a second time, and then a third.

Julian had seen me and Jesse in our costumes in the boathouse on Halloween night. He'd witnessed Barb's attack and he'd hidden when Jesse had stumbled into the boathouse. He'd seen me come in, and how I'd pulled the broken oar out of Jesse's chest. We'd both been hurt, and Jesse's blood had soaked the floor … but why had Julian thought it was mine?

The sound of someone knocking and calling my name at the front of the store dragged me out of those dreadful memories, and I pushed the letter under a stack of books before I went out to see who it was.

Tiffany Beck stood outside the shop, and as soon as she saw me she waved frantically. “Sorry to bother you at work,” she called through the glass, “but I come bearing gifts. And a desperate request.”

I went over and unlocked the door. “Hey. Come in.”

“Can't.” She lifted the two bundles of gift bags she was holding. “I'm on begging and groveling duty. My mom's in charge the Sparklefest relay race, and we need more riders to sign up. I know you and your brothers have horses, so do you think you guys might want to enter the race? Please, please say yes.”

“My brothers will probably say no, and I'm trying to finish up the inventory at my job.” I saw the disappointment in her eyes. “Sorry.”

“It's all right. Last-minute begging and groveling hardly ever works anyway.” She made a face. “You would have had to dress up in a riding habit costume, and they're pretty awful.”

“What fun.” I was so glad I had my job as an excuse. “Are you riding in the race?”

She nodded. “Mine is green and white, with like yards of tatted lace. I look like a great big toad draped in a doily. Gotta run.” She hurried down to the next open shop.

Costumes …

I went back to my work table and turned over one of the blank tally sheets to make a list.

Julian Hargraves

• Sees me with Jesse down by the lake.
  
• Takes blood he thinks is mine from boathouse.
  
• Writes letter to Mrs. Frost about using blood.
  
• Dies the same night.
  
• Body stolen from tomb after funeral.
  
• Palmer's horses are killed.
  
• Sunny Johnson talks to an old man before
  she runs away.
  
• Melissa Wayne is kidnapped by an old man.
  
• We find Julian's journals.
  
• We search Julian's library.
  
• Becca Hamilton is kidnapped by an old man
  or a young man.
  

It was all right there in front of me, everything going back to that night in October. The only connection between every event was Julian Hargraves or an old man.

I picked up the book in which I'd found the letter to Mrs. Frost, and began skimming through it. It was older than I'd realized; the copyright date was 1901. I didn't recognize the name of the publisher or the author, but the title was fairly straightforward:
Ancient Egyptian Death Practices and Rituals.

I skimmed a couple of chapters on the various ways the ancient Egyptians had embalmed and preserved their dead, and stopped when I found a section on ceremonies. At first the author covered the different types of funerals given for those who had died, but then he moved on to a chilling account of a prince who had tried to cheat death by drinking the blood of his human slaves. When this didn't work, he began kidnapping and draining the bodies of foreign dignitaries who came to pay homage to his father, the King.

The only time the existence of this prince was ever recorded was in the personal journal of a visiting ambassador's personal physician. In his account, the physician provided details of an ominous blood ritual, during which the prince used the hollow fangs of a snake to pierce his own veins and introduce the blood of his victims into his own body.