Her Vampyrrhic Heart (6 page)

Kit had difficulty in deciphering some of the sprawling scribble. He doubted that the police would investigate, given the poor mental state of his grandmother when she scrawled this down before she died. What troubled Kit was that he couldn't dismiss what he'd read about Tom Westonby murdering his uncle. Just because the Bolter family were cynically dismissed as thieves, drug-sellers and liars didn't mean that they, themselves, weren't sometimes victims of crime. There were times when Bolter folk told the truth, too.

Kit Bolter wondered how he'd react the next time he met Owen Westonby. Should he tell Owen that the Bolter family believed that Tom had murdered one of their own? Even just a mention of an accusation like this could explode a friendship to nothing. Kit closed his eyes and thought hard about what he should do next. Because all of a sudden, the immediate future looked darker – storm clouds were gathering over Kit and the best friend he'd ever had.

S
he wanted to talk. Tom, however, knew she must get away from the cottage and back to the car as soon as possible. He finished tying his bootlaces, fastening his coat, and retrieving a powerful flashlight from the kitchen.

The beautiful woman with the coffee-coloured skin and those amazing blue eyes watched him with an expression that blended sorrow with desperation. ‘Mr Westonby. Now that I've told you that I'm Nicola Bekk's niece, won't you listen to me?'

‘How do I know that you really are related to Nicola? Journalists have tried all kinds of tricks to get information out of me.'

‘My eyes don't lie. These blue eyes are pure Bekk, aren't they?' June Valko thrust a phone towards him. ‘This is a photograph of my father. See his eyes? They're the same blue.'

Tom sighed when he saw the photograph. A man stood with a dark-skinned woman. His eyes were blue, and his hair possessed that same shade of blond as Nicola's – an extremely fair blond that wasn't far away from being an ethereal white. He sighed again, because he couldn't avoid the truth any more. This indeed was a blood relative of Nicola's.

‘So you do believe me, Mr Westonby?'

He nodded. ‘Call me Tom.' This time he held out his hand.

Shaking it, she smiled, though her eyes remained deadly serious. ‘Please call me June.'

‘OK, June. The bottom line is you must get back to your car as soon as possible.'

‘You believe I'm Nicola's niece, so why do you want me to leave?'

‘This forest is dangerous after dark.'

She laughed as if he'd made a joke. ‘Dangerous? It's just a forest.'

‘If I trust that you're a blood relative of the Bekk family, then you must trust me when I say it's not safe out there.'

June's blue eyes strayed to the sofa. ‘Can't I stay? I thought we could talk?'

‘We can meet up again. But not here – and certainly not at night.'

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him.

Tom had seen that look before. ‘Yes, I know, you think I'm insane. But it's not safe out there. I only go into the forest after dark if there's an emergency, and lives depend on it. Do you follow what I'm saying?'

‘Perhaps we could just talk for a couple of minutes?'

‘No can do.' He checked the flashlight. ‘You have to get back to your car. Give me your phone number.'

‘I already did. It's on the note I left you.'

‘I burned it.'

She didn't ask why. Instead, she pulled a card from her purse. ‘My name and number's on there. I'm stopping at the Station Hotel in Leppington. Do you know it?'

He nodded. ‘I'll give you a call. We'll meet up at the hotel.' The look she gave him prompted him to add, ‘In the bar.'

Even though June began to fasten her jacket she moved slowly so she could talk. Clearly she needed to reveal information that was important to her. ‘I came here by train from Manchester. When I reached Leppington I hired a car so I could find you.'

Despite a sense of urgency to get her away from here, he had to ask the question: ‘Why?'

Those astonishing blue eyes locked on to his. ‘Twenty-nine years ago my mother met a man called Jacob Bekk. My mother's the lady you saw in the photo. They fell in love. Before I came along, however, my father returned to this cottage. My mother never saw him again.'

‘So they split up?'

‘No. They loved one another. My mother said Jacob began to change. He seemed to be haunted by something – and she did use the word “haunted”. Also, he became physically different. His skin grew paler; she could see veins through the flesh. His eyes changed, too.'

‘As if the colour had begun to leach away?'

June's eyes flashed with surprise. ‘Hey, how did you know that?'

‘How did you know how to find me?'

‘My mother collected news reports of a flood that happened five years ago in this valley. Your name cropped up a lot, and as the name Tom Westonby was linked to Nicola Bekk, my mother drew plenty of conclusions.'

‘We should be going.' He opened the door.

‘Aren't you curious about why I'm here?'

‘This isn't the time to talk. Already I might have left it too late to go through the wood.'

‘I'm here to save my mother's life.'

The sentence stopped Tom dead. ‘Save her life? How can coming here save anyone's life?' He paused. ‘Sorry, that sounded brutal. You just took me by surprise.'

‘My mother's name is April. She married Jacob Bekk. He left her soon after she found out she was pregnant with me. She was so angry she changed her name back to Valko. But the absolute truth is that she loves Jacob. She can't accept that he stopped loving her. For years now she's been slipping deeper and deeper into clinical depression. Two weeks ago she was hospitalized. This might sound over the top, but she's literally dying of a broken heart. If she meets Jacob again, she might find some peace … she might even get well again.'

‘I don't see what I can do.'

‘Help me find Jacob Bekk.'

‘I don't think I can do that.'

‘I found you.'

‘All you need do is type “Tom Westonby” into a search engine; you'll be taken to all kinds of websites about the paranormal and monster hunting.'

‘Other missing people can be found, if you try hard enough.'

‘June, I've been searching for Nicola Bekk for five years.'

‘Then we'll find them both together. Nicola and Jacob.' Her blue eyes held a fierce determination. ‘We can help each other, Tom.'

‘Even if I could take you to Jacob, I wouldn't.'

‘Why?'

‘Because I would not inflict such a thing on my worst enemy.'

‘Do you always talk in mysterious riddles?'

‘It's better than you hearing the truth.'

‘You've just answered me with another riddle. So why is it better than hearing the truth?'

Tom held open the door. ‘We have to go now. I mean this very second.'

She hesitated.

He said, ‘I promise to phone you tomorrow.'

‘Alright, but please,
please
come and see me as soon as you possibly can. OK?'

‘OK.' He looked her in the eye. ‘What I'm going to say next will seem strange … it'll even sound worrying … but when we walk through the wood stick close to me. You might see things that seem odd, but don't stop. Keep walking. Don't look at them. Don't look back. Just keep moving forward, and I'll get you back to your car.'

‘What kind of things?'

‘I'll explain when I see you again. Now, are you ready?'

When she nodded, Tom Westonby led the way. He hoped that the path ahead would be clear.

T
hey walked away from the cottage. Out here in the remote part of the forest an absolute darkness engulfed them. June Valko stuck close by Tom's side as he'd asked. That distinctive forest-in-winter aroma filled his nostrils – the scent of damp earth, the mustiness of vegetation and sharper tang of dead leaves. Their breath billowed from their mouths. The brilliant light from Tom's torch made those bursts of breath look like clouds of white steam.

June Valko scanned her surroundings. ‘I passed through an impressive stone arch when I came into the garden. The arch looks a lot older than the cottage.'

‘It is.'

‘Something had been carved on it. Is it an animal?'

‘I'll explain when we meet up.' He walked faster, intending to get her back to the car as soon as possible. ‘You say you parked near a large house on the main road?'

‘Yes.'

‘That's Mull-Rigg Hall. My parents live there.'

‘Oh.' June's expression became thoughtful, as if she'd picked up some inflection in his voice when he'd mentioned his parents. June carried the little electric lantern. ‘I tried to buy a flashlight,' she explained, ‘but this is all they had at the village store. I think it's just a toy lamp they had left over from Hallowe'en.'

‘Watch where you put your feet. It'll get slippery down by the river.'

June Valko continued to talk. He guessed she'd picked up on his tension, and talking was a way to try and disguise her nervousness. ‘I wouldn't have thought a forest in England would be dangerous. But then what do I know? I'm a city girl. I work for a freight company. So, why is it dangerous out here? They don't have bears and wolves in Yorkshire, do they?'

‘There are wild boar. They were reintroduced ten years ago.'

‘They're just fluffy pigs, aren't they?'

‘You wouldn't want to bump into one. They're big animals, and they've got tusks. They can also be vicious.'

‘Oh. I hadn't realized that it could be so risky coming to see you.'

He glanced at her. Even though this pretty woman was slightly built – she could even be described as dainty – there was real strength there. What's more, he sensed that June Valko possessed intelligence and determination.
This woman's smart – and she's a fighter.

The nerves kept her talking. She would be used to the constant background noise of the city. She must find this kind of silence unsettling, even frightening. ‘So my mother married Nicola's brother,' she said. ‘All I know of my grandmother is that she lived at Skanderberg, and had of lots of children. The first came along when she was seventeen, and the last when she was in her late forties, which is why my father is so much older than Nicola.'

‘She was reclusive. And even though I might be speaking ill of the dead – she died last year – your grandmother was downright strange.'

‘I don't even know her name, other than it's Mrs Bekk. She disowned her son when he moved away. Something to do with betraying family heritage.'

‘I heard plenty about family heritage from Mrs Bekk. She'd got totally obsessive about tracing the Bekk bloodline back to Viking settlers over a thousand years ago.'

A dead sheep lay at the side of the path. An open eye glinted in the light of the torch. Tom caught sight of teeth marks on its throat. No blood, though. He knew that not a drop of blood would be found on the animal. A hungry tongue would have licked the wound clean.

June followed him along the path, which hugged the course of the river. Down here the rapids sounded loud. Light from the torch splashed against the water, revealing a spot where it foamed round boulders.

‘Tom? How did you come to live in Skanderberg?'

‘I rebuilt it after the fire.'

‘What fire?'

‘It might seem like bad manners, but I don't really want to talk. What's important right now is getting you back to your car.'

‘Wild boar might eat us?'

‘Yeah, something like that.'

‘I was joking, Tom.'

‘Stick to the right of the path. It gets swampy on the other side.'

June Valko fell silent. He took this to mean she'd got the hint about closing her mouth and carrying on walking. However, just the tone of her voice when she spoke a moment later sent shivers down his spine.

‘Tom … I've just seen a man.'

‘Keep walking.'

‘He's over there by the big rock.'

‘Don't look at him.'

‘
But he's looking at me.
'

‘He won't hurt you, June. But whatever you do, don't stop.'

‘Tom, you're frightening me.'

‘Hold my hand.'

He gripped her hand fiercely enough to make her gasp. Tom Westonby didn't do this to reassure her; he'd seized her hand so he could keep her moving forward.

‘Why is he staring at us?' she whispered. ‘Look at him. He's just standing there like a statue. But … oh my God … can you see his eyes? His eyes are like—'

‘I told you not to look at him.'

‘Tom.' She sounded alarmed. ‘There's something wrong with his face.'

He tugged her by the hand as if she was a child who dragged its feet. ‘Come on, walk faster.'

‘Why's he out here at night?'

‘June, he won't hurt you. Not if you keep walking and don't look back.'

She hissed, ‘But his face is so strange … my God, it's scaring me just to look at it.'

‘I told you not to look back.'

June Valko did more than just look back. She raised the electric lantern she carried. The light fell on the strange figure that stood, as still as a statue, perhaps thirty paces away.

‘His feet?' she gasped. ‘It's winter … he hasn't got any shoes on his feet. They're bare.'

She tilted the lamp so its rays would illuminate the stranger's face. Before she could get a clear look at that face, with its staring eyes, Tom knocked the lantern from her hand.

‘Ow!'

‘Come on.' He hauled her so forcefully that she cried out again in pain.

‘I'm not afraid of him,' she cried. ‘Give me the flashlight. I want to see his face.'