Winter's Light (8 page)

Chapter 13

It must have been too dark and her concentration too scattered while they were digging the grave for her to notice. His forearms and neck were also splashed with dried blood the colour of brown paint.

‘Oh my God, Sam! That’s not your blood is it?’ Winter asked, appalled at the grisly sight. He looked like a butcher fresh from the slaughterhouse.

‘No, I’m pretty sure it’s not.’ He glanced down at himself with a slightly embarrassed expression, as though he was covered in dried tomato sauce and not a creature’s viscera.

‘You need to have a shower.’

Sam began to protest. ‘It’s fine . . . I’ll just wash up at the sink.’

The last thing Winter wanted was for him to wash off the Demori’s blood in the kitchen. ‘No you won’t. Follow me, I’ll get you a towel and find you some clothes.’

His face still pink, Sam followed her into the hallway. She took one of the towels from the cupboard and gestured to the bathroom. ‘You can get changed in there.’

Sam took the towel, and she was momentarily unnerved by the depth of gratitude she read in his grey-blue eyes. ‘Thanks, Winter.’

‘No problem.’ She left him to strip off and went into Lucy’s room, fishing around in the bottom of her drawers for something Sam could wear. Winter was pretty sure Lucy had an ex-boyfriend’s sweater in here somewhere . . . Found it! It was striped black and white, with a gold thirty-three on the back inscribed over the word ‘Beanpole’.

Casey ‘Beanpole’ Tompkins and Lucy had dated throughout most of her first year of college. He’d been to Hagan’s Bluff only once and Winter hadn’t liked him much. He was too loud, too cocky, and she was glad Lucy had dumped him. Taking the sweater back into the hallway, she knocked on the bathroom door and waited for Sam to answer.

‘Come in.’

Keeping her eyes on the tiles, Winter opened the door. She still managed to glimpse Sam in her periphery wearing nothing but the towel, and it was long enough to register his tanned, muscular torso in cheek-reddening detail.

‘This should fit,’ she said, holding out the sweater and trying not to look at him. This was nearly an impossible task.

‘Thanks again, Winter, this is . . .’ he paused, searching for the words to express himself ‘. . . more than I expected from you. I mean, I-I don’t —’ he stammered, clearly worried she’d mistake his gratitude for condescension.

‘Don’t mention it,’ Winter said, flashing him an awkward smile. He seemed unbothered, standing in her bathroom naked. Unfortunately, she was less comfortable. Feeling herself grow more flushed by the second, Winter backed out of the room. ‘I’ll go check on the food.’

Sam nodded, and she saw again that expression of sincere gratitude. Walking to the kitchen, she understood why he was so touched by her compassion. The last time they’d seen each other they’d been on opposite sides – Winter with Blake, Sam with the Bane. Enemies. Despite this, she couldn’t find any anger in her heart. Conflict and confusion, yes, but no anger. It was hard to hate someone who had just saved your life. The Sam who was standing naked in her bathroom wasn’t the same boy who had pursued her to Pilgrim’s Lament. He was sadder, lonelier – an orphan. Just like her.

The food was nearly ready, the clear plastic lid of the container rendered opaque with steam. She could hear the food inside sizzle and pop. Just before the microwave timer counted down to one she stopped the cycle, a habit she’d picked up from Lucy who also hated the timer’s shrill tone, and using a tea towel shifted the Tupperware to the table. A plume of steam billowed out, carrying with it the smell of melted cheese, fish and tomatoes as she lifted the top.

The table set, Winter took a seat and let out a deep sigh. Nefertem, who had been lurking beneath the kitchen table, leapt up onto her lap. While she stroked his soft ginger fur, she realised something was missing. She was tired, stressed and more than a little on edge with the prospect of Benedict lurking outside, but she wasn’t sad. The darkness that had lurked at the periphery of her vision ever since losing Blake was gone. She couldn’t stop a hopeful smile from twitching at the corners of her mouth.

The sound of an engine humming as it came up the driveway chased the smile from her face. Lucy had come home early! Shooing Nefertem off her lap, Winter dashed into the hallway and beat loudly on the bathroom door.

‘Sam? My sister’s home!’ There was no reply from inside and the shower was still running. With the noise of the water Sam mustn’t have been able to hear her. Winter knocked again, growing more panicked. Sam’s photograph had been trumpeted by all the media outlets, usually accompanied by a bold headline that said, ‘WANTED FOR MURDER’.

If Lucy came home and found a naked boy in her bathroom she’d be outraged – if she came home and found a naked criminal in her bathroom there was no telling what she’d do. Scream? Call the police? Attack Sam with a kitchen knife?

Downstairs she could hear the garage door groan as it was pulled down, followed by voices.
Great!
Dominic was with her. The situation had just become more precarious.

‘Sam – you need to hide!’ she yelled through the door before remembering the crossbow and the other paraphernalia he’d left in the kitchen – the duffle bag, the blood-splattered trenchcoat, the oil burner, the machete.

She bounded down the hallway feeling a glimmer of relief when she heard the shower finally shut off. Hopefully, Sam was hiding himself. If he wasn’t there was nothing she could do now. Listening keenly for her sister’s approach – they were coming up the stairs now! – she rushed around the kitchen, haphazardly piling his belongings into the duffle bag. She stumbled quickly to her room, dumped the bag, and slammed the door just as Lucy and Dominic stepped into the hallway.

‘Win,’ Lucy said, with a surprised expression. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you had a party to go to.’

‘I did,’ she said, her heart hammering in her chest. Unable to come up with any other explanation on the fly, she added abruptly, ‘It finished. You’re home early.’ She moved past them into the living room drawing their attention away from the bathroom at the end of the hall, which was mercifully silent. Sam must have heard them talking and wisely chosen to keep his presence unknown.

‘The movie was sold out so instead, Dominic took me to get dessert at Milano’s,’ Lucy said, following Winter into the living room and putting down her handbag. Dominic smiled at Winter over Lucy’s shoulder.

‘Was the party fun?’ he asked politely.

‘Lots of fun,’ Winter nodded a little too enthusiastically.
I saw a vision of my dead boyfriend and nearly got my soul sucked out by a monster – it was a blast, Dom!
Her eyes flicked to the doorway and the hallway beyond. If she could just keep Dominic and Lucy occupied then maybe Sam would be able to sneak out of the bathroom and make it to her bedroom without being caught.

Lucy frowned at her. ‘Is everything okay? You’re acting . . . funny.’

Winter forced an innocent smile. ‘I’m fine. Absolutely fine.’ She sat down on the couch and attempted to appear nonchalant. ‘I’m good,’ she added for emphasis.

Lucy’s frown deepened. ‘Have you been drinking?’

Winter was genuinely shocked by the accusation. ‘Of course not. I’m under-age.’

Lucy’s right eyebrow shot up but she didn’t say anything. If Dominic wasn’t here, Winter doubted she would have been able to restrain herself from pursuing this line of questioning. Lucy began to move back towards the hallway.

‘Where are you going?’ Winter demanded.

Lucy paused in the doorway. ‘To the bathroom. If that’s okay with you?’ Shaking her head in bemusement, she left Dominic and Winter alone.

Dominic appeared a little uncomfortable without Lucy as a buffer. ‘So, you’re graduated. You must be over the moon.’

Winter didn’t answer him at first. She was listening for Lucy’s scream upon discovering Sam. When it didn’t happen she allowed herself a moment of relief.

‘Um, sorry?’ She remembered Dominic’s question and continued distractedly, ‘Yes, totally over the moon. It feels great.’ There was nothing at all in her tone that indicated this was the truth.

‘Your sister told me you’re thinking of applying for a marketing degree at Newington. My cousin went there. It’s a good school.’

Winter shrugged, her eyes on the doorway. She was thinking of no such thing. Even if she went to university she doubted she’d study marketing. Marketing was Lucy’s goal for her – but none of this seemed important right now. Why was Lucy taking so long?

Maybe Sam had deployed some of his Bane training and knocked Lucy out. If so, then this situation was about to get even more stressful. Would he deal with Dominic next? Then what? Would she have to run away with him? Two fugitives on the road.

She heard the toilet flush, followed by the tap running as Lucy washed her hands. Winter released the breath she’d been holding.

There were footsteps in the hallway and Lucy reappeared. She didn’t look happy.

‘Can you remember to put the fan on next time you have a shower? It’s like a Russian bathhouse in there.’

Winter was too stumped by her lucky escape to answer straightaway. ‘Of-of course, no problem,’ she stammered, a grin spreading across her face. ‘I guess I forgot.’

Lucy frowned at her grin, but let it pass without comment, instead asking Dominic, ‘Can I make you a tea or coffee?’

‘That would be great. I’d love a tea.’

‘What about you, Win? Tea?’ The question was innocent, however her eyes regarded Winter suspiciously.
I smell a rat, missy
, they seemed to say.
What are you trying to hide?
Again, Winter was silently grateful for Dominic’s presence. She didn’t think she’d hold up under one of Lucy’s interrogation sessions with her nerves in their currently frayed state.

‘Sure,’ Winter said, trying to clear her gaze of any emotion that might hint at her anxiety. Where was Sam?

Lucy left Dominic and Winter alone again as she walked into the kitchen.

‘I probably shouldn’t be drinking tea this late, but I guess tomorrow’s the weekend.’ Dominic smiled a little uncertainly and Winter felt a pang of guilt for treating him so rudely. The poor guy probably thought she hated him.

‘Why not live a little, right?’ Winter said with a friendly shrug, trying to make up for her odd behaviour.

‘Absolutely. I should have asked for coffee.’

‘Don’t go crazy now.’

Dominic laughed at that, his laughter cut short by Lucy’s voice bellowing from the kitchen.

‘Winter!’

Both of them were startled by the volume and outraged tone, their faces sharing similar perplexed expressions as Lucy stormed back into the room holding two plates in her hands.

‘What’s going on? The table’s set for two people. Is someone here?’

Winter had completely forgotten about the dishes. She’d been in too much of a mad hurry clearing up Sam’s detritus to pack away the dinnerware and the food.

‘Of course not!’ she said, trying to sound indignant. Her mind strained to come up with a plausible excuse. ‘I mean Jasmine and I were going to have some dinner. But . . . she just left. Before you got here.’

Lucy’s gaze narrowed. ‘Winter Adams if you have a boy here I want to know about it!’

‘Lucy, I —’ Winter panicked at the prospect of Lucy pulling the house apart and stumbling across Sam. She couldn’t lie anymore, her mind was completely blank.

‘I think you’re being a little paranoid, Luce. She said her friend just left,’ Dominic said to Lucy with a vaguely reproachful expression. He stood up and whispered something into her ear. Something that sounded very much like, ‘Give the kid a break.’

Lucy’s gaze flicked to Dominic in question. He nodded in encouragement, and she let out an exasperated sigh before glancing back at Winter, her eyes not entirely free of their accusatory expression. ‘Sorry, Win. I didn’t mean to put you on the stand.’

‘It’s okay,’ Winter said, amazed at Dominic’s heroic intercession.

‘I’ll help you make the tea,’ he said, putting his arm around Lucy and guiding her to the kitchen. Before they left the room, he half turned and winked at Winter. Winter shot him a grateful look back. It seemed she’d sold Dominic a little short.