Night World 1 (27 page)

“Rowan—”

She didn't get any further. Rowan, Kestrel, and Jade all looked suddenly toward the front door—like cats who have heard something their humans can't. An instant later, though, Mary-Lynnette heard it, too. The sound of feet on the front porch—
tap, tap, tap
—as quick as that. And then a thud.

“Hey, somebody's
out
there,” Jade said, and before Mark could stop her, she was up and heading for the door.

“
J
ade—wait a minute!” Mark said.

Jade, of course, didn't wait even a second. But she lost time undoing the bolts on the front door, and Mary-Lynnette could hear the quick
tap, tap, tap
of somebody running away.

Jade threw the door open, darted out onto the porch—and screamed. Mary-Lynnette crowded forward and saw that Jade had put her foot into one of the holes where the porch was missing a board. Everybody who didn't know the place did that. But that wasn't what had made her scream.

It was the goat.

“Oh, God,” Mark said. “Oh, God—who would do that?”

Mary-Lynnette took one look and felt a burning in her chest and arms—a painful, bad feeling. Her lungs seemed to contract and her breath was forced out. Her vision blurred.

“Let's get it inside,” Rowan said. “Jade, are you all right?”

Jade was taking in ragged, whooping breaths. She sounded the way Mary-Lynnette felt. Mark leaned over to help pull her out of the hole.

Rowan and Kestrel were lifting the goat by its legs. Mary-Lynnette was backing into the house, teeth clamped on her already-bitten lip. The taste of copper was like a blood clot in her mouth.

They put the goat on an old-fashioned patterned rug in the entrance to the living room. Jade's whooping breaths turned into gasping sobs.

“That's Ethyl,” Mary-Lynnette said. She felt like sobbing too.

She knelt beside Ethyl. The goat was pure white, with a sweet face and a broad forehead. Mary-Lynnette reached out to touch one hoof gently. She'd helped Mrs. B. trim that hoof with pruning shears.

“She's dead,” Kestrel said. “You can't hurt her.” Mary-Lynnette looked up quickly. Kestrel's face was composed and distant. Shock rippled under Mary-Lynnette's skin.

“Let's take them out,” Rowan said.

“The hide's ruined already,” Kestrel said.

“Kestrel, please—”

Mary-Lynnette stood. “Kestrel,
shut up
!”

There was a pause. To Mary-Lynnette's astonishment, the pause went on. Kestrel stayed shut up.

Mary-Lynnette and Rowan began to pull the little wooden stakes out of the goat's body.

Some were as small as toothpicks. Others were longer than Mary-Lynnette's finger and thicker than a shish kebab skewer, with a dull point at one end. Somebody
strong
did this, Mary-Lynnette thought. Strong enough to punch splinters of wood through goat hide.

Over and over again. Ethyl was pierced everywhere. Hundreds of times. She looked like a porcupine.

“There wasn't much bleeding,” Rowan said softly. “That means she was dead when it was done. And look here.” She gently touched Ethyl's neck. The white coat was crimson there—just like the deer, Mary-Lynnette thought.

“Somebody either cut her throat or bit it,” Rowan said. “So it was probably quick for her and she bled out. Not like…”

“What?” Mary-Lynnette said.

Rowan hesitated. She looked up at Jade. Jade sniffled and wiped her nose on Mark's shoulder.

Rowan looked back at Mary-Lynnette. “Not like Uncle Hodge.” She looked back down and carefully loosened another stake, adding it to the pile they were accumulating. “You see, they killed Uncle Hodge this way, the Elders did. Only he was alive when they did it.”

For a moment Mary-Lynnette couldn't speak. Then she said,
“Why?”

Rowan pulled out two more stakes, her face controlled and intent. “For telling a human about the Night World.”

Mary-Lynnette sat back on her heels and looked at Mark.

Mark sat down on the floor, bringing Jade with him.

“That's why Aunt Opal left the island,” Rowan said.

“And now somebody's staked Aunt Opal” Kestrel said. “And somebody's killed a goat in the same way Uncle Hodge was killed.”

“But
who
?” Mary-Lynnette said.

Rowan shook her head. “Somebody who knows about vampires.”

Mark's blue eyes looked darker than usual and a little glazed. “You were talking before about a vampire hunter.”

“That gets my vote,” Kestrel said.

“Okay, so who around here is a vampire hunter?
What's
a vampire hunter?”

“That's the problem,” Rowan said. “I don't know how you could tell who is one. I'm not even sure I
believe
in vampire hunters.”

“They're supposed to be humans who've found out about the Night World,” Jade said, pushing tears out of her eyes with her palms. “And they can't get other people to believe them—or maybe they don't want other people to know. So they hunt us. You know, trying to kill us one by one. They're supposed to know as much about the Night World as Night People do.”

“You mean, like knowing how your uncle was executed,” Mary-Lynnette said.

“Yes, but that's not much of a secret,” Rowan said. “I mean, you wouldn't have to actually know about Uncle Hodge to think of it—it's the traditional method of execution among the lamia. There aren't many things besides staking and burning that will kill a vampire.”

Mary-Lynnette thought about this. It didn't get them very far. Who would want to kill an old lady and a goat?

“Rowan? Why did your aunt have goats? I mean, I always thought it was for the milk, but…”

“It was for the blood, I'm sure,” Rowan said calmly. “If she looked as old as you said, she probably couldn't get out into the woods to hunt.”

Mary-Lynnette looked at the goat again, trying to find other clues, trying to be a good observer: detached, methodical. When her eyes got to Ethyl's muzzle, she blinked and leaned forward.

“I—there's something in her mouth.”

“Please tell me you're joking,” Mark said.

Mary-Lynnette just waved a hand at him. “I can't—I need something to…hang on a sec.” She ran into the kitchen and opened a drawer. She snagged a richly decorated sterling silver knife and ran back to the living room.

“Okay,” she grunted as she pried Ethyl's teeth farther open. There
was
something in there—something like a flower, but black. She worked it out with her fingers.

“Silence of the Goats,” Mark muttered.

Mary-Lynnette ignored him, turning the disintegrating thing over in her hands. “It looks like an iris—but it's spray-painted black.”

Jade and Rowan exchanged grim glances. “Well—this has
something
to do with the Night World,” Rowan said. “If we weren't sure of that before, we are now. Black flowers are the symbols of the Night World.”

Mary-Lynnette put the sodden iris down. “Symbols, like…?”

“We wear them to identify ourselves to each other. You know, on rings or pins or clothes or things like that. Each species has its own kind of flower, and then there are other flowers that mean you belong to a certain club or family. Witches use black dahlias, werewolves use black foxglove; made vampires use black roses…”

“And there's a chain of clubs called the Black Iris,” Kestrel said, coming to stand by the others. “I know because Ash belongs to one.”

“
Ash
…” Jade said, staring at Kestrel with wide green eyes.

Mary-Lynnette sat frozen. Something was tugging insistently at the corner of her consciousness. Something about a black design….

“Oh, God,” she said. “Oh, God—I know somebody who wears a ring with a black flower on it.”

Everyone looked at her.

“Who?” Mark said, at the same time as Rowan said it. Mary-Lynnette didn't know which of them looked more surprised.

Mary-Lynnette struggled with herself for a minute.

“It's Jeremy Lovett,” she said finally. Not too steadily.

Mark made a face. “That oddball. He lives by himself in a trailer in the woods, and last summer…” Mark's voice died out. His jaw dropped, and when he spoke again, it was more slowly. “And last summer they found a body right out near there.”

“Can you tell?” Mary-Lynnette asked Rowan quietly. “If somebody's a Night Person?”

“Well…” Rowan looked dismayed. “Well—not for sure. If somebody was experienced at shielding their mind…Well, we
might
be able to startle them into revealing something. But otherwise, no. Not for
certain.
”

Mark leaned back. “Oh, terrific. Well, I think Jeremy would make a great Night Person. Actually, so would Vic Kimble and Todd Akers.”

“Todd,” Jade said. “Now, wait a minute.” She picked up one of the toothpicks that had been embedded in the goat and stared at it.

Rowan was looking at Mary-Lynnette. “No matter what, we should go and see your friend Jeremy. He'll probably turn out to be completely innocent—sometimes a human gets hold of one of our rings or pins, and then things get
really
confusing. Especially if they wander into one of our clubs….”

Mary-Lynnette wasn't so sure. She had a terrible, terrible sick feeling. The way Jeremy kept to himself, the way he always seemed to be an outsider at school—even his untamed good looks and his easy way of moving…No, it all seemed to lead to one conclusion. She had solved the mystery of Jeremy Lovett at last, and it was
not
a happy ending.

Kestrel said, “Okay, fine; we can go check this Jeremy guy out. But what about Ash?”

“What about Ash?” Rowan said. The last stake was out. She gently turned one side of the rug over the body of the goat, like a shroud.

“Well, don't you see? It's his club flower. So maybe somebody from his club did it.”

“Um, I know I'm starting to sound like a broken record,” Mark said. “But I don't know what you're talking about. Who's Ash?”

The three sisters looked at him. Mary-Lynnette looked away. After so many missed opportunities, it was going to sound extremely peculiar when she casually mentioned that, oh, yes, she'd met Ash. Twice. But she didn't have a choice anymore. She had to tell.

“He's our brother,” Kestrel was saying.

“He's crazy,” Jade said.

“He's the only one from our family who might know that we're here in Briar Creek,” Rowan said. “He found me giving a letter to Crane Linden to smuggle off the island. But I don't
think
he noticed Aunt Opal's address on it. He's not much good at noticing things that aren't about him.”

“You can say that again,” Jade said. “All Ash thinks about is Ash. He's completely self-centered.”

“All he does is chase girls and party,” Kestrel said, with one of those smiles that made Mary-Lynnette wonder if she really disapproved. “And hunt.”

“He doesn't like humans,” Jade said. “If he didn't like chasing human girls and playing with them, he'd probably be planning to
wipe out
all the humans and take over the world.”

“Sounds like a great guy,” Mark said.

“Well, he's sort of conservative,” Rowan said. “Politically, I mean. Personally, he's—”

“Loose,” Kestrel suggested, eyebrows up.

“To put it mildly,” Jade agreed. “There's only one thing he wants when he goes after human girls—besides their cars, I mean.”

Mary-Lynnette's heart was pounding. With every second that passed it was getting harder to speak up. And every time she took a breath, somebody else started talking.

“So, wait—you think
he
did all this stuff?” Mark asked.

“I wouldn't put it past him,” Kestrel said.

Jade nodded vigorously.

“But his own
aunt,
” Mark said.

“He'd do it if he thought the honor of the family was involved,” Kestrel said.

“Yes, well, there's one problem with all that,” Rowan said tightly. “Ash isn't
here.
He's in California.”

“No, he's not,” Ash said casually, from the back of the living room.