Dead Of Night Part 12

"Um, you can't do everything by yourself," I pointed out. "Sali and Flash would miss us terribly. Also, it's almost Christmas, and we're really sorry."

After I nudged him Gray said, "Yeah. Sorry, bro."

"This isn't funny, Catlyn. Both of you could have been trampled." Trick turned his evil eye on Gray. "And you. Whenever I leave here, I trust you to look after your sister, not put her in danger."

Gray looked prepared to start yelling again. "Oh, is that what I'm doing?"

Whatever they weren't saying hung between them, big and ugly, and for once it didn't annoy me. Not when it made them look like they hated each other.

"You know, we never got to decorate that tree in the house." My brothers didn't say anything, so I added, "I wouldn't mind taking a break and stringing some popcorn. How about you guys? We could play some Christmas music, only we don't have any. I know, we could sing some carols. Ah, do we know any carols?"

Trick was the first to quit the brother glaring contest. "I'm not singing, but I can decorate."

"Do we get to eat some of this popcorn?" Gray wanted to know.

We left the barn open to air, and I sent my brothers ahead to the house so I could lead Rika from the pen to the pasture where the others were grazing. I knew Trick would be watching from the kitchen window as I turned her out, and I was glad she behaved as nicely as she had the day Gray left me alone with her.

I didn't trust my brothers alone for too long, so I went to the house and got busy making the popcorn in the kitchen. I hadn't given much thought to what else we could use for decorations, but when I brought the pan of popcorn out to the living room I found Trick unpacking some ornaments from one of the boxes we'd used for moving.

"We had a secret stash of Christmas tree stuff?" I asked as I set down the pan and surveyed the brightly colored globes. "Pretty."

"Mom had a tree for us every year," Gray told me, and then glanced at Trick. "You were too little to remember it."

Trick produced a glittery star. "Gray, this goes on top. Cat, there's a sewing kit in there you can use for the popcorn."

The way we muddled through the tree decorating would have been funny, if anyone had felt like laughing. We had ornaments but no hangers for them, so Trick had to unbend and rebend a few dozen paper clips to serve as replacements. Gray decided to test an old string of lights he found and in the process tripped a breaker, shutting off all the power to the front room. Stringing popcorn, I discovered, was possibly the most boring holiday activity ever invented.

The tree only added to the joy by shedding needles every time we touched it, until a small pile formed around the base. But despite our lack of decorating prowess, my brothers and I finished the job, and stood back to admire our handiwork.

Trick frowned. Gray didn't say anything.

It was up to me, then. "That is the saddest-looking Christmas tree I've ever seen."

"It's not so bad." Trick reached out to adjust one of my uneven, pitiful-looking popcorn strings. "It looks ... "

"Dismal?" I suggested helpfully. "Depressing?"

"Dead," Gray put in. He demonstrated by grasping one of the branches and running it through his fingers, and then letting the needles fall onto the pile on the floor. Not a single needle was left on the branch.

Trick bent down and checked the dirt in the bucket. "Bone-dry. Didn't you guys water it?"

Gray lifted one shoulder. "You never told me to."

"Me, either." I saw one of the ornaments sliding off a sagging branch. "Uh-oh."

The ball fell to the floor. As we watched, a tiny shower of needles rained down on top of it.

"I think we killed the living Christmas tree." A giggle escaped me, and I clapped a hand over my mouth before I offered a m.u.f.fled, "Sorry."

"I don't think it's funny." Trick sounded stern, but his lips twitched. "I paid fifty dollars for this thing, and now it's just one big tumbleweed."

Gray studied it. "Maybe it was dead when we got it."

"It could be a Christmas tree scam," I said hopefully.

"After the holidays we could chop it up and resell it as firewood," Gray said.

"That's a good idea," I said. "I mean, it's already been seasoned, right?"

Trick started laughing, and it had been so long since I'd heard that deep, wonderful sound that it set me off. Gray resisted for another thirty seconds before he joined in, too.

Finally I caught my breath and wiped my eyes. "This is the best Christmas present ever," I told Trick.

He gave me a skeptical look. "A dead tree is all it takes to make you happy?"

"No." I smiled at him and Gray. "But you guys do."

That afternoon at the store I found a note waiting for me on Mrs. Frost's desk blotter. Jesse hadn't signed it, but I recognized his hand writing, as well as the meaning of the one line he had written: You should come and see the paintings as soon as you can.

I put down the note and gnawed at my bottom lip. I wasn't crazy about going into the tunnels while it was still daylight, but Jesse wouldn't have left a note if it wasn't important. To cover myself, I called home.

"I'm going to take my dinner break early and use it to do some Christmas shopping," I told Trick. "I won't be long, but I didn't want you to worry."

"Stay right around the shop," he said. "Eat something, and be sure to get back before dark."

"I'll only be an hour," I promised.

I turned off the store lights, mainly so Sheriff Yamah would a.s.sume I wasn't working if he drove by, and then went down through the hatch. I didn't know what I'd been expecting when I walked into the work room, but it wasn't to see Jesse sitting at his desk and reading one of Julian's journals.

"What are you doing here?" I said. "The sun hasn't set; shouldn't you still be on the island?"

"I spent the night in the vault." He rose and came to give me a hug. "Aren't you pleased to see me?"

"I'm always happy to see you," I a.s.sured him, "but where do your parents think you are?"

"Here. I told them I wanted some time alone. They believe I am still pining for you." His smile faded as he held up one of Julian's journals. "You were right. Over the years Julian did notice that my parents and I were not growing older. He decided ten years ago to find out why."

All the breath went out of me. "Oh, no."

"He frequently referenced his 'findings,' as he called them, which apparently were the facts, dates, places, and every other bit of information about us that he could learn," Jesse said. "At first he secretly watched us himself, from a distance, and then as he grew older and frailer he hired men to follow us."

I couldn't believe it. "So he knew everything."

"Not precisely. Some of the conclusions that he drew from his findings were wrong, such as the nature of our affliction." He opened the journal to a pa.s.sage he had marked, and handed it to me to read.

The boy and his parents never eat or drink, so they must have evolved past the need for nourishment, or they are subsisting on some energy source unknown to me. Since they are always acquiring new cattle and horses, and those are the only living things they will tolerate in their presence, I believe the answer lies with how they are using the animals. I have ordered some books on animal ritual sacrifices and their effectiveness. I am also searching for any literature on the transfer of life energy and souls from one being to another.

"He thought you were sacrificing cows for their souls?" I shuddered. "What a nasty mind."

"There's more." Jesse took the journal from me and added it to the pile on his desk. "He knew about us."

"Us? As in you and me?" When he nodded, my eyes widened. "How?"

"Julian sent his a.s.sistant to watch the old manor house. He knew I often went there while I was out riding. He a.s.sumed-correctly-that I wanted privacy." He caressed my cheek with the backs of his fingers. "The a.s.sistant saw you when I brought you there. He a.s.sumed you were an immortal, too, and that we were indulging in some sort of mystical courtship. From the way he describes it, he believed that we were some sort of Romeo and Juliet."

In a way, I guessed, we were. "Did he think my brothers and I were sacrificing cows?"

"Julian never discovered who you were or where you lived," Jesse a.s.sured me. "He ordered his a.s.sistant to take photos of you, but the one night that he tried, Prince got loose and scared him away."

I remembered that night only too well; Jesse had gotten stranded at the old practice barn. "That's why Prince ran. He wasn't spooked. He was chasing off a peeping Tom." I stared at the journal. "The nosy old man almost got you killed, and for what? Just to write a bunch of nonsense in his journals?"

Jesse picked up another journal. "He wrote about that as well." He hesitated before handing it to me. "It's on the third page."

I flipped past the first pages and began reading.

Time is slipping away faster than ever. I can feel my mind fading as well; I must write down everything or I forget it completely within an hour. I must be helped from bed in the morning, and if I sit too long in any one place I fall asleep. I can't even enjoy food any longer, for the doctor won't permit me to eat anything I want. I dream of steak and potatoes and a bottle of wine, but my a.s.sistant brings me only soup and pureed fruit and tea.

I'm well aware that I am dying a little every day. I remember how mother and father were, just before I lost them. I will not go as quietly as they did. I refuse to give up hope. It's all I have left.

This last year I've come to understand how wrong I've been. All my life I believed I was happy, but I was only deluding myself. Because I never allowed myself to care for anyone but myself, I have no wife to love, or children to carry on my name. No one has ever called me their friend. How can I realize this only when there's no time left to fix my mistakes?

I will continue my research. I know the immortals have learned how to live forever, that it is possible to avoid death altogether. If only I can stay alive long enough to discover their secret. Somehow I must.

I closed the book. "I'm not going to say 'that poor man.'" I glanced at Jesse. "No matter how much I want to."

He took my hand in his. "It does not excuse what he did, but it does explain why."

The old man's sad, desperate words still hurt my heart, and made me get up and slip into my dark boy's arms.

"You're upset." He rubbed his hand over my back. "I shouldn't have let you read that."

"No, I think it was good for me. Kind of a reality check." I caught a strand of his silky black hair, and moved it so that the light brought out the amethyst glints. Jesse's hair would always be this color, even when mine turned gray. "Someday I'm going to be old. I don't think about it too much, but it will happen. And you'll still be like you are now."

He kissed the top of my head. "It won't make any difference to me, Catlyn. You will always be my lady."

"While eventually I'll have to tell everyone that you're my boy toy," I tried to joke, but my heart wasn't in it. I looked up at him. "What do you think I'll write in my journal when I'm as old as Julian?"

He pretended to think for a minute. "You'll write, 'I spent the day with the one I love. The garden is blooming, the horses are playing tag in the pasture, and the grandchildren are coming to visit us this weekend. I have never felt happier.'"

"The one I love sounds great, and so does the garden and the horses, but grandchildren?" I wasn't sure how to wrap my mind around that concept.

"Your parents had children," he reminded me. "Someday I hope that you and I do the same."

I thought about having kids as often as I did being old, which was basically never. If Jesse and I did have a baby, it would probably inherit characteristics from both of us. If Jesse's father was right, and all Van Helsings were born with special vampire-hunting abilities, the kid would get stuck with that. I'd gotten my dark hair and pale skin from my father, and possibly some of his vampire strengths-I already knew I could jump two stories without hurting myself.

"You do want children, don't you?" Jesse asked, dispelling my thoughts.

"I can't think that far ahead." I made a face. "Grandkids will want to call me Nana, won't they?"

"I'll insist on it."

Reluctantly I left his arms and regarded the stacks of journals. "What are we going to do with these now?"

"Considering how much information Julian ama.s.sed about me and my family," Jesse said, "I must ask that you not return any of these to the collection."

I hadn't thought about that, but I nodded. "I'll catalog the book safes as empty. I'm just glad we discovered these before Mrs. Frost sold off the collection." I got up and stretched. "Imagine the field day someone would have with Julian's 'findings.'"

"He didn't record them in his journals." Jesse's eyes narrowed. "He only mentioned them."

I looked up at the ceiling. "We've got to look through the rest of those bins and find them." When he didn't follow me to the door, I turned around. "Don't you want to know what else he had on you and your family?"

"It's not necessary. Last night I searched through the remaining bins in the storeroom, to ensure we had found all of the journals." He gave me a bleak look. "Catlyn, there is nothing else but books in those bins."

"You checked each one to make sure they were real?" When he nodded, I began to pace. "Mrs. Frost said he was very secretive, and what information he had on you, he definitely wouldn't want to share. Maybe he hid his findings somewhere else."

"He never left his home, so they must still be there," Jesse said. "I'll have to go and search it tonight."

"I'm going with you." I recalled the promise I'd made to my brother. "But I can't, not tonight. I have to get back to the store."

"Tonight is the only chance we'll have," Jesse said. "All of his property-including the contents of his house-is scheduled to be sold at a public auction being held at the estate. I know because my parents asked Lawrence to place bids for them on the house and land."

I closed my eyes. "When is the auction?"

"It starts at noon tomorrow."

Thirteen.

Tony's Garage occupied one corner of the block behind the bookstore, and as I walked toward the office door I could hear clanking and banging sounds coming from behind the closed doors of the service bays. I glanced up to see Jesse watching me from the roof, and offered him a wan smile before I went inside.

No one was in the office (which was cluttered beyond belief) so I walked through the adjoining door out into the garage. "h.e.l.lo? Anyone here?"

A heavyset man rolled out from under a pickup truck. "Help you?"

"I'm looking for a friend of mine," I told him. "Karise Carson?"

"It's okay, Tony." Kari emerged from behind some shelves of car parts. "She's cool." She glanced over her shoulder. "She's no snitch, either."

My jaw dropped as Connor Devlin, one of Tanglewood's most popular jocks, stepped out into the light. "Oh, my G.o.d. You're Seek?"

"I think I'd better plead the fifth." He winked at me. "Nice to meet the other legend."