Night World 1 (29 page)

Ash gave her a long, incredulous look. “I fed, if that's what you're asking. Not on a goat.
What
does this have to do with Aunt Opal?”

“I think we'd better show him,” Rowan said.

She was the one who got up and lifted the fold of rug away from the goat. Ash walked around the couch to see what she was doing. Mary-Lynnette turned to watch his face.

He winced. But he controlled it quickly.

Rowan said quietly, “Look at what was in the goat's mouth.”

Ash picked up the black flower gingerly. “An iris. So?”

“Been to your club recently?” Kestrel asked.

Ash gave her a weary look. “If
I
had done this, why would I sign it with an iris?”

“Maybe to tell us who did it.”

“I don't have to kill goats to say things, you know. I
can
talk.”

Kestrel looked unimpressed. “Maybe this way the message has a little more impact.”

“Do I
look
like the kind of person who wastes time turning goats into pincushions?”

“No. No, I don't think you did this,” Rowan said in her quiet way. “But
somebody
did—probably whoever killed Aunt Opal. We've been trying to figure out who.”

“Well, who have we got for suspects?”

Everyone looked at Mary-Lynnette. She looked away.

“There's one who's pretty prime,” Mark said. “His name's Jeremy Lovett. He's a real—”

“Quiet guy,” Mary-Lynnette interrupted. If anyone was going to describe Jeremy, it was going to be her. “I've known him since elementary school, and I would never,
ever
have believed he could hurt anybody—especially an old lady and an animal.”

“But his uncle was crazy,” Mark said. “And I've heard things about his family—”

“Nobody
knows
anything about his family,” Mary-Lynnette said. She felt as if she were struggling to keep her head above water, with barbells tied to her wrists and ankles. What was dragging her down wasn't Mark's suspicion—it was her own. The little voice in her head that was saying, “But he
seemed
like such a nice guy”—and which meant, of course, that he wasn't.

Ash was watching her with a brooding, intent expression. “What does this Jeremy look like?”

Something about the way he said it irritated Mary-Lynnette beyond belief. “What do you care?”

Ash blinked and shifted his gaze. He shrugged minimally and said with forced blandness, “Just curious.”

“He's
very
handsome,” Mary-Lynnette said. Good—a way to let out her anger and frustration. “And the thing is that he looks very intelligent and sensitive—it's not empty good looks. He's got hair that's sort of the color of Ponderosa pinecones and the most wonderful brown eyes…. He's thin and tan and a little bit taller than me, because I'm normally looking at his mouth….”

Ash didn't look pleased. “I saw somebody vaguely like that at the gas station in town.” He turned to Rowan. “You think he's some kind of outlaw vampire?”

“Obviously not a made vampire because Mary-Lynnette has watched him grow up,” Rowan said. “I was thinking more that he might be renegade lamia. But there's not much use in trying to figure it out from here. Tomorrow we can go and
see
him, and then we'll know more. Right?”

Mark nodded. Jade nodded. Mary-Lynnette took a deep breath and nodded.

Ash nodded and said, “All right, I see why you can't go home until this is solved. So, we'll figure out who killed Aunt Opal, and then we'll take the appropriate action, and
then
we'll go home. Got it?”

His sisters exchanged glances. They didn't answer.

As she and Mark walked back to their house, Mary-Lynnette noticed that Sirius had lifted above the eastern horizon. It hung like a jewel, brighter than she had ever seen it before—much brighter. It seemed almost like a miniature sun, flashing with blue and gold and violet rays.

She thought the effect must be psychological, until she remembered that she'd exchanged blood with three vampires.

J
ade sat in the wing chair, holding Tiggy upside down on her lap, petting his stomach. He was purring but mad. She stared down into indignant, glowing green eyes.

“The other
goat,
” Kestrel announced from the doorway, saying the word as if it were something not mentioned in polite society, “is just fine. So you can let the cat out.”

Jade didn't think so. There was somebody crazy in Briar Creek, and she planned to keep Tiggy safe where she could see him.

“
We're
not going to have to feed on the goat, are we?” Kestrel asked Rowan dangerously.

“Of course not. Aunt Opal did because she was too old to hunt.” Rowan looked preoccupied as she answered.

“I like hunting,” Jade said. “It's even better than I thought it would be.” But Rowan wasn't listening—she was biting her lip and staring into the distance. “Rowan,
what
?”

“I was thinking about the situation we're in. You and Mark, for one thing. I think we need to talk about that.”

Jade felt reflexive alarm. Rowan was in one of her organizing moods—which meant you could blink and find that she'd rearranged all your bedroom furniture or that you were moving to Oregon. “Talk about what?” she said warily.

“About what you two are going to
do.
Is he going to stay human?”

“It's illegal to change him,” Kestrel put in pointedly.

“Everything we've done this week is illegal,” Rowan said. “And if they exchange blood again—well, it's only going to take a couple of times. Do you
want
him a vampire?” she asked Jade.

Jade hadn't thought about it. She thought Mark was nice the way he was. But maybe
he
would want to be one. “What are you going to do with yours?” she asked Ash, who was coming slowly downstairs.

“My what?” He looked sleepy and irritable.

“Your soulmate. Is Mary-Lynnette going to stay human?”

“That's the other thing I've been worrying about,” Rowan said. “Have you thought at all, Ash?”

“I can't think at this hour in the morning. I don't have a brain yet.”

“It's almost noon,” Kestrel said scornfully.

“I don't care when it is. I'm still asleep.” He wandered toward the kitchen. “And you don't need to worry,” he added, looking back and sounding more awake. “Because I'm not doing
anything
with the girl and Jade's not doing anything with the brother. Because we're going
home.
” He disappeared.

Jade's heart was beating hard. Ash might act frivolous, but she saw the ruthlessness underneath. She looked at Rowan.

“Is Mary-Lynnette
really
his soulmate?”

Rowan leaned back, her brown hair spreading like a waterfall on the green brocade of the couch. “I'm afraid so.”

“But then how can he want to leave?”

“Well…” Rowan hesitated. “Soulmates don't always stay together. Sometimes it's too much—the fire and lightning and all that. Some people just can't stand it.”

Maybe Mark and I aren't really soulmates, Jade thought. And maybe that's
good.
It sounds painful.

“Poor Mary-Lynnette,” she said.

A clear voice sounded in her mind:
Why doesn't anybody say “Poor Ash”?

“Poor Mary-Lynnette,” Jade said again.

Ash reappeared. “Look,” he said and sat down on one of the carved mahogany chairs. “We need to get things straight. It's not just a matter of
me
wanting you to come home. I'm not the only one who knows you're here.”

Jade stiffened.

Kestrel said, almost pleasantly, “You
told
somebody?”

“I was staying with somebody when the family called to say you were missing. And he was there when I realized where you must have gone. He also happens to be an extremely powerful telepath. So just consider yourself lucky I convinced him to let me try to get you back.”

Jade stared at him. She did consider herself lucky. She also considered it strange that Ash would go to such trouble for her and Rowan and Kestrel—for
anybody
besides Ash. Maybe she didn't know her brother as well as she thought.

Rowan said, very soberly, “Who was it?”

“Oh, nobody.” Ash leaned back and looked moodily at the ceiling. “Just Quinn.”

Jade flinched. Quinn…that
snake.
He had a heart like a glacier and he despised humans. He was the sort to take Night World law into his own hands if he didn't think it was being enforced properly.

“He's coming back on Monday to see if I've taken care of the situation,” Ash said. “And if I haven't, we're all dead—you, me,
and
your little human buddies.”

Rowan said, “So we've got until Monday to figure something out.”

Kestrel said, “If he tries anything on
us,
he's in for a fight.”

Jade squeezed Tiggy to make him growl.

Mary-Lynnette had been sleeping like a stone—but a stone with unusually vivid dreams. She dreamed about stars brighter than she'd ever seen and star clouds shimmering in colors like the northern lights. She dreamed about sending an astronomical telegram to Cambridge, Massachusetts, to register her claim for discovering a new supernova. About being the first to see it with her wonderful new eyes, eyes that—she saw in a mirror—were all pupil, like an owl's or a cat's….

Then the dream changed and she
was
an owl, swooping down in a dizzying rush from a hollow Douglas fir. She seized a squirrel in her talons and felt a surge of simple joy. Killing felt so natural. All she had to do was be the best owl she could be, and grab food with her feet.

But then a shadow fell over her from somewhere above. And in the dream she felt a terrible sick realization—that even hunters could be hunted. And that something was after
her….

She woke up disoriented—not as to
where
she was, but as to
who
she was. Mary-Lynnette or a hunter being chased by something with white teeth in the moonlight? And even when she went downstairs, she couldn't shake off the sick feeling from her dream.

“Hi,” Mark said. “Is that breakfast or lunch?”

“Both,” Mary-Lynnette said, sitting down on the family room couch with her two granola bars.

Mark was watching her. “So,” he said, “have you been thinking about it, too?”

Mary-Lynnette tore the wrapper off a granola bar with her teeth. “About what?”

“
You
know.”

Mary-Lynnette did know. She glanced around to make sure Claudine wasn't in earshot. “
Don't
think about it.”

“Why not?” When she didn't answer, he said, “Don't tell me you haven't been wondering what it would be like. To see better, hear better, be telepathic…and live
forever.
I mean, we could see the year three thousand. You know, the robot wars, colonizing other planets…. Come on, don't tell me you're not even a
little
curious.”

All Mary-Lynnette could think of was a line from a Robert Service poem:
And the skies of night were alive with light, with a throbbing, thrilling flame….

“I'm curious,” she said. “But there's no point in wondering. They do things we couldn't do—they
kill.
”

She put down her glass of milk as if she'd lost her appetite. She hadn't, though—and wasn't that the problem? She ought to be sick to her stomach at just the thought of killing, of drinking blood from a warm body.

Instead, she was scared. Of what was out there in the world—and of herself.

“It's
dangerous,
” she said aloud to Mark. “Don't you see? We've gotten mixed up in this Night World—and it's a place where bad things can happen. Not just bad like flunking a class. Bad like…”

…white teeth in the moonlight…

“Like getting killed
dead,
” Mary-Lynnette said. “And that's serious, Mark. It's not like the movies.”

Mark was staring at her. “Yeah, but we knew that already.” His tone said,
What's the big deal?

And Mary-Lynnette couldn't explain. She stood up abruptly. “If we're going over there, we'd better get moving,” she said. “It's almost one o'clock.”

The sisters and Ash were waiting at Burdock Farm. “You and Mark can sit in the front with me,” Mary-Lynnette told Jade, not looking at Ash. “But I don't think you'd better bring the cat.”

“The cat goes,” Jade said firmly, getting in. “Or I don't.”

Mary-Lynnette put the car in gear and pulled out.

As they came in sight of the small cluster of buildings on Main Street, Mark said, “And there it is, downtown Briar Creek in all its glory. A typical Friday afternoon, with absolutely nobody on the streets.”

He didn't say it with his usual bitterness. Mary-Lynnette glanced at him and saw that it was Jade he was talking to. And Jade was looking around with genuine interest, despite the cat's claws embedded in her neck.

“
Somebody's
on the streets,” she said cheerfully. “It's that boy Vic. And that other one, Todd. And grown-ups.”

Mary-Lynnette slowed as she passed the sheriff's office but didn't stop until she reached the gas station at the opposite corner. Then she got out and looked casually across the street.

Todd Akers was there with his father, the sheriff—and Vic Kimble was there with
his
father. Mr. Kimble had a farm east of town. They were all getting into the sheriff's car, and they all seemed very excited. Bunny Marten was standing on the sidewalk watching as they left.

Mary-Lynnette felt a twinge of fear. This is what it's like when you have a terrible secret, she thought. You worry about everything that happens, and wonder if it's got something to do with you, if it's going to get you caught.

“Hey, Bunny!” she called. “What's going on?”

Bunny looked back. “Oh, hi, Mare.” She walked unhurriedly—Bunny never hurried—across the street. “How're you doing? They're just going to check out that horse thing.”

“What horse thing?”

“Oh…didn't you hear?” Bunny was looking behind Mary-Lynnette now, at Mark and the four strangers who were getting out of the station wagon. Suddenly her blue eyes got rounder and she reached up to fluff her soft blond hair.

Now, I wonder who she's just seen, Mary-Lynnette thought ironically. Who
could
it be?

“Hi,” Ash said.

“We didn't hear about the horse thing,” Mary-Lynnette said, gently prompting.

“Oh…um, one of Mr. Kimble's horses cut his throat on barbed wire last night. That's what everybody was saying this morning. But just now Mr. Kimble came into town and said that he didn't think it was barbed wire after all. He thinks…somebody did it on purpose. Slashed its throat and left it to die.” She hunched her shoulders in a tiny shiver. Theatrically, Mary-Lynnette thought.

“You see?” Jade said. “That's why I'm keeping my eye on Tiggy.”

Mary-Lynnette noticed Bunny eyeing Jade. “Thanks, Bun.”

“I've got to get back to the store,” Bunny said, but she didn't move. Now she was looking at Kestrel and Rowan.

“I'll walk you there,” Ash said gallantly. With what, Mary-Lynnette thought, must be his usual putting-the-moves-on manner. “After all, we don't know what could be lurking around here.”

“It's broad daylight,” Kestrel said disgustedly, but Ash was already walking Bunny away. Mary-Lynnette decided she was glad to get rid of him.

“Who was that girl?” Rowan asked, and something in her voice was odd.

Mary-Lynnette glanced at her in surprise. “Bunny Marten. I know her from school. What's wrong?”

“She was staring at us,” Rowan said softly.

“She was staring at Ash. Oh, and probably you three, too. You're new and you're pretty, so she's probably wondering which boys you'll take from her.”

“I see.” But Rowan still looked preoccupied.

“Rowan, what is it?”

“It's nothing. I'm sure it's nothing. It's just that she's got a lamia name.”

“Bunny?”