Eternal Kiss (36 page)

Did he?

Becky forgot about Ryan, and Mr. Hair-off, and detention and Robin the moment she walked through the front door of her house. It looked like Nana was having one of her “good days.” Becky was utterly relieved that everything was okay. Nana was sitting in her favorite chair, with Mishka on her lap. Mishka was a grouchy old cat—a big, white fluffy thing that needed lots of brushing. If Nana remembered nothing else, she remembered to brush Mishka.

Not that Mishka minded if she was brushed three or four times a day. That cat loved attention, and would happily sit all day in Nana’s lap being brushed. But only Nana’s lap. Mishka hated Becky, and the feeling was mutual. Mishka was Nana’s cat.

Becky stowed her backpack in the foyer and made sure the doors were locked and the stove off and everything else was safe before greeting her grandmother.

“Hi, Nana!” Becky said as she entered the living room.

“Oh, Becky, you’re home,” Nana said, smiling even though Becky knew she was confused. “Did you have a good day at school?”

Becky nodded as she always did. Even though today had been a horrible day at school, she still told her Nana that everything was fine.

“Do you have a lot of homework?” Nana asked, earning a glare from Mishka as she stood up.

“No, I got most of it done at school,” Becky answered honestly. You could get a lot done in three hours of detention after school. “And I’m really hungry. How about some dinner? It’s my turn to cook tonight.”

Nana’s brow furrowed.

“I thought you cooked last night.” She didn’t sound at all sure.

Becky really didn’t want to lie to her Nana, but Nana in the kitchen was dangerous. Becky cooked every night now, but let Nana think that she only cooked sometimes.

“I was really craving some spaghetti at school,” Becky hedged, steering the conversation away from who was going to do the cooking. “I thought that would be good for dinner. It’s easy to make—I know how.”

Nana nodded absently and went back to brushing Mishka. The cat glowered at Becky as if to say “Well? Go on, then. You’re
not needed here.” Becky stuck her tongue out at the evil cat and went into the kitchen to start supper.

Half the dishes on the draining board had been wiped and put away when she heard an insistent pounding at the front door, like someone kicking it. Hard.

Becky scowled as she looked at the clock. It was nearly nine o’clock, and they never had visitors. Well, not anymore. Nana’s friends used to come by, when she could still remember who they were and what they’d been talking about. Becky never had friends over. Not that she had any besides Robin, but even if she did, she wouldn’t have them over anyway. Other people just upset Nana now.

The noise came again, and Becky looked over her shoulder toward the bathroom door. Nana was in there getting ready for bed. Becky hoped she couldn’t hear the racket.

Becky frowned and looked out the peep hole at the dark figure on the porch. She snapped on the porch light, and a blond head cringed away from the brightness with a grimace, but remained still. He kicked at the door again, and Becky could see why. The bloody, unconscious body of the dark-haired boy who had just that afternoon come to get his “lucky pencil” from her filled his arms.

“Turn off that light! Do you want the entire neighborhood to see us?” the boy out on the porch growled sharply. “I don’t know about you, but that’s something I’d like to avoid!”

Becky had to agree with him and couldn’t help but obey. She flicked the porch light off immediately before opening the door.

“That’s better,” the tall, skinny blond boy said. He waited a moment, just standing there, looking at Becky and the interior of the house past her. When she just stared at him, he spoke again. “Well? Come on, Healer … I can’t stand around here all night! I would have used the usual entrance, but it’s sealed, so I had no choice but to come to the front door.”

“What—” Becky shook her head, confused.

“If friend ye are and healing ye seek, enter this place and my blessing keep!”

Becky whirled around at the sound of her Nana’s voice, stronger and clearer than it had been in years.

Nana was clad in her pink bathrobe and matching slippers. Her wet hair clung to her neck and shoulders. Becky suddenly thought that it was strange for Nana to have taken a shower at night. Maybe she’d gotten confused again as to why she was in the bathroom and had thought it was morning. Nana never took a shower at night.

The blond boy expelled a deep sigh of obvious gratitude and shouldered his way past Becky. He strode into the living room with Ryan, muttering under his breath.

“My apologies, Lady Healer,” the blond boy said contritely as he reached Nana. “The entrance was sealed or I would have used it—”

Nana’s hand cut him off, and she reached for a long-disused
candle lantern sitting on the mantelpiece above the hearth.

Why would she grab that thing? It’s just decor, isn’t it? Something of Grandfather’s?
Becky thought.

“Take him up,” Nana ordered quietly, and followed the boy up the staircase, not faltering on the stairs as she usually did, leaving Becky standing dumbstruck in the open doorway.

Remembering herself, Becky quickly locked the front door. She ran up the stairs after her Nana.

She just caught a glimpse of the hem of Nana’s pink robe disappearing through the door at the end of the upstairs hall. That was a linen closet. What …?

Reaching the door, Becky found that the shelves of the linen closet weren’t shelves at all. They were like those spooky fake bookcases in haunted houses and were now pushed aside to reveal a hidden passage.

Wow. She’d known this house was old and creepy—it had been in the family for generations—but a secret passageway? Really? That was just like something out of
Nancy Drew
! She hesitated only a moment before going through after her Nana.

“My apologies, Martha,” Becky heard the blond boy say, almost reverently. “I thought … her mark … she looked so surprised. Isn’t she trained?”

Martha. The boy had called Nana “Martha.” No one did that … except Nana’s old friends, and that boy didn’t look like he was even old enough to be out of school. He didn’t go to
her
school though. That was for certain. She’d remember a guy as good-looking as that.

“She’s not of age,” she heard Nana reply. “Set him down so I can have a look. Do something about the bed, would you? It’s been a long time since I’ve been up here.”

Was that her
Nana
talking like that? Like she’d suddenly … gotten better? Nana hadn’t sounded that sure of herself in a long time, and certainly hadn’t used that many words in that normal way for more than three years.

“She’s here, listening to us,” the blond boy said softly. He lifted his voice. “Come out, little Healer. We know you’re here, and you may as well see firsthand.”

Becky stepped out from the secret passage and into the light of the candle lamp that had somehow become lit. Her Nana barely looked at her as she bent to examine Ryan, peering into his eyes and glancing at his clothed body.

“His clothes,” Nana said firmly.

Ryan’s clothes vanished instantly, except his underwear.

Nana glanced at the blond boy, arching an eyebrow.

“Afford the boy
some
modesty, Martha,” he said smoothly. “None of his injuries are around his middle.”

“And you bit him as well!” Nana exclaimed with a gasp as she turned Ryan’s head toward her and saw two small punctures on the boy’s neck. “Sydney! Why would you … it
was
you … I can tell! Oh!”

Nana’s eyes then lingered on the second bite on Ryan’s bleeding thigh below the band of his underwear. Her fingers deftly touched the wound, and the unconscious Ryan cried out in protest.

“Becky, go into my room,” Nana ordered, looking up at her sternly. “In the closet, on the top shelf, you’ll see a leather suitcase. The one I always told you was full of old pictures? Bring that here, and fast. Go!”

Too stunned to do anything but follow orders, Becky nodded and ran back to the passageway and down the stairs, returning quickly with the case Nana wanted. The whole time questions ran through Becky’s mind. What had the blond boy—Sydney—meant when he said he would have used the entrance but it was sealed? How was Nana acting like her old self,
and
as though this kind of thing happened every day? Entering the hidden room again, Becky passed the case to her Nana.

“Thank you,” Nana said in that same, calm voice. She reached for the case and opened it, pulling out various things as she spoke again to Becky.

“Go downstairs and bring me the two big pots, filled with water. The temperature doesn’t matter. Sydney will help. Won’t you, Syd? And Sydney? See to the boundary? That’s a good boy.”

Sydney looked like he’d been about to protest but nodded with a wry smile.

“As long as this doesn’t take too long,” Sydney said, standing up importantly. “After all, I left things in disarray. They’ll need me back soon.”

Nana waved her hand dismissively at Syd’s words.

“This is more important than hand-holding your scared little clan. Now, tell me, what’s this? Who broke the truce?”

“There really isn’t time, Martha,” Syd said gravely. He looked to Becky. “Shouldn’t you be getting that water?”

“Look, I don’t know who you are, but—” Becky was tired of being ordered around like a lapdog.

“Becky,” Nana interrupted coolly. “Quickly now or this boy is going to die.”

A glimpse of yellow caught Becky’s eye. Ryan’s lucky pencil was sticking out of the back pocket of the jeans that lay in a discarded heap at the foot of the bed. Becky felt dazed being in this strange hidden room with this strange, unfamiliar woman who was somehow working to save Ryan’s life.

Why couldn’t they have just gone to the hospital?
Becky ran downstairs again, her brow furrowing.
Why did they come here? Why is Nana acting like her old self? Why is she acting like this is normal?

The questions came faster than Becky could fathom as she filled a large stockpot with water. She was filling the other when suddenly Sydney was standing beside her.

“Holy crap!” Becky shouted, flinching away from the boy. She stared at him, wide-eyed. “How the heck did you do that?”

Sydney lifted the full pot into Becky’s arms. She took it automatically, wrapping her arms around the bottom. Wow, it was heavy.

“The same as always,” he said, confused by her question. “I just thought about where I wanted to be, and there I was. How hard is that? It’s even easier with you worrying and fretting down here. I just had to focus on you, and I came to your side. You need help getting this stuff back upstairs, and your way takes forever.”

He didn’t wait for Becky to ask him anything else. Instead he put a hand on her shoulder and another on the second pot she’d just filled, and suddenly they were back in the dark room with Ryan and Nana.

Becky’s stomach lurched and she set the pot of water next to Nana, just in time to be sick in the corner.

Sydney’s eyebrows rose.

“First timer, huh? Don’t worry, that happens to a lot of humans when they shift for the first time,” he said.

“A lot of humans? What? I mean … Nana? What’s going on?” Becky asked, her stomach tightening more at the disturbing suggestion in Syd’s words.

“I don’t have time to explain now, little dove,” Nana said distractedly, soaking strips of cloth into water, which was suddenly steaming hot though it had been only lukewarm moments ago. “Give me a few minutes to see to this boy. What’s his name, Syd? Names help, as you know.”

“Ryan,” Syd replied quietly. “Ryan Dugan.”

“‘Ryan,” Nana repeated gently before turning back to Becky. “Give me a few minutes to see to Ryan, little dove. He’s been bitten by a hellhound.
And
a vampire.”

Nana muttered those last words under her breath in disapproval.

“Really, Syd. Did you have to bite him?” Nana asked.

“It was either turn him or watch him die. He’s been good to us,” Syd replied. “You know I didn’t have a choice, Martha.”

Nana nodded. “I know. It’s just … well … he won’t die of the
hellhound bite, that’s for sure. If he survives the turning … well … we’ll deal with that part when it comes.
If
it comes.”