Forget Me Not (The Ceruleans: Book 2) (12 page)

Tall, svelte, beautiful. Cropped hair spiking out in every
direction. Lips the colour of blood. Dress the colour of death.

Sienna.

I reached out and braced myself on the mirrored wall. My
sister, here. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. My sister,
here
!

She was leaning against the wall, lips curled in distaste,
watching a drunk bloke grind up against a girl on the dance floor.

‘Sienna,’ I whispered. Then, louder, ‘SIENNA!’

I don’t know what made her turn her head. She can’t have
heard me over the din of the music. But in a moment green eyes locked on green.

She jerked. Stood up tall, pushing away from the wall. Her
lips parted and she took a step forward, toward me.

‘Scarlett. Helloooooo. How goes it?’

A looming hulk blocked my view. Big Ben. Standing right in
front of me, clinging to a bottle of cider and grinning idiotically.

‘MOVE!’ I shouted at him, pushing him to the side.

He staggered. ‘Hey!’

I ignored him, searched out the exit sign, looked down.

She was gone.

Even as I shoved past Ben and began elbowing my way across
the dance floor – the shortest route from here to there – I knew this was
madness. She wasn’t here. She was the tiger in the deserted street. She was
Shrek walking down Plymouth High Street. She was my grandfather hoeing in the
garden. She wasn’t real. But still my legs powered me on, and my arms pushed
frantically against hot, sweaty people.

I reached the fire exit. No sign of her.

Well, that’s that,
a voice in my head said calmly.
And yet my hand found the metal bar across the door and pushed it, and my feet
moved forwards, propelling me out into the cool air of the early hours.

I was in an alley running along the back of the club and the
neighbouring building. It was narrow and gloomy and reeking of the rubbish
decaying in two industrial-size bins. It was also deserted.

My hand was still on the door, holding it open.
Go back
inside,
I told myself.
She’s not here. She never was.

I let go of the door. It slammed shut behind me, cutting off
the light from the club, leaving me in gloom. At one end of the alley, the
yellow glow of a streetlight beckoned. At the other end, where alley
intersected alley, there was the slightest suggestion of a different coloured
light.

I walked quietly along the back of the club, away from the
street. With each step the pumping beat of the club’s music receded and new
sounds became audible – scuffling, a muffled thump. Then a voice, too low for
me to make out the words.

At the corner I stopped and slowly leaned out. And had to
bite down, hard, on my lower lip to keep in the shout that surged up.

The alley beyond was narrower still and wreathed in shadows,
but moonlight slanting down across the roof cast the terrible scene in light.
Two young men – one hulking and powerful in head-to-toe black; the other
shorter and squat and denimed out but for his glaringly white trainers. But it
wasn’t their looks that had stopped me short. It was their positions in the
tableau. The tall guy had his back to me and his face very close to his
captive. Yes, captive: he had the short one up against the wall, pinned with a
forearm pressed into his throat, and was firing expletives as a cobra spits
venom.

‘You make me
sick
,’ he hissed.

The short man tried to protest, but the force on his
windpipe was increased so that all that came out was a terrified squeak.

‘When I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for hell. I am
going to
rip your
–’

I didn’t think: I just launched myself out into the light,
shouting, ‘No!’

Both men froze.

‘I’m calling the police!’ I warned in a voice that was
maddeningly unsteady and scrabbled in my pocket.

In the second or so it took me to dig out my phone the
attacker had dropped his arm. The short guy wasted no time in stumbling away,
and then he took off running. As he passed me, I got a good look at his face. I
recognised him, even with the blood flowing out of his nose: he was the drunk
grinding bloke from the club, the one Sienna had been watching. Well, my
imaginary Sienna. But there was no time to think about that now. The thug in
black had turned around and was moving towards me.

I should have stepped back. I should have turned and run.
But the closer he got, the more I thought I knew this man too from somewhere.

He stopped several feet away from me. ‘Scarlett Blake. Fancy
meeting you here.’

That got me moving – I took a big step back, landing my
weight badly on the treacherous heel of my shoe, and fell with an audible
‘Ooof’ onto my butt.

He was moving again now, towards me, and I tried to scuttle
back, but pain shot up my leg – my ankle; I’d twisted it.

‘Stop there!’ I cried.

To my surprise, he did. He stood, relaxed, in the middle of
the alley, smiling widely enough to pucker the deep scar sliced across his
cheek.

‘I know you,’ I said. ‘I remember your face. The picture of
the surf crowd at Twycombe. You, beside Sienna. You’re Daniel.’

‘I’m Daniel,’ he agreed.

I began working furiously on the buckles of my shoes.

‘It’s good to meet you at last, Scarlett,’ he said, watching
me with unblinking eyes. ‘I’ve heard so much about you.’

‘Ditto.’

He snorted. ‘From the righteous Jude, no doubt.’

Damn these shoes!
I yanked on a strap and the
stitching snapped violently, sending a jolt of fire through my ankle that made
me yelp.

‘You’re hurt,’ said Daniel. ‘Want me to –’

‘No!’ I shouted. ‘You stay back!’

He put his hands in the air to indicate surrender. There was
blood on his palms.

‘You have to stay away from me,’ I warned him, pulling hard
on the remaining strap.

‘Says who?’

‘Sienna. Gabriel promised her. I know it – she left a record
for me. Her diary. Gabriel swore he wouldn’t send you for me.’

That wiped the smile off his face. I missed it at once – if
he was creepy smiling, he was downright sinister frowning.

The last strap gave and I quickly pulled off my shoes. Then,
keeping my eyes locked on Daniel, I pushed up onto my knees and walked my hands
up the wall to stand. The ground under my feet was cold and gritty and my ankle
complained at taking any weight, but the pain was bearable. It would have to
be.

He gestured to the shoes gripped in my hands, heels out.
‘What are you gonna do, Scarlett – stab me with a shoe?’

‘If it comes to it, yes.’

The smile was back. ‘That’s the spirit. Your sister’s spirit
too.’

‘Where is she? Where’s Sienna?’

‘Someplace… safe.’

‘Here?’

‘No.’

‘Where?’

Silence.

‘I will find her.’

‘No, Scarlett, you won’t. But I’ll pass on your regards.’

He would see her. He would see my sister. The truth slammed
into me, and the shoes in my hand started to shake.

‘Sienna,’ I said. ‘Is she… please, will you tell me: is she
okay?’

A muscle in Daniel’s jaw clenched. Until now, he’d been cool
and sardonic. Now, he looked… angry.

‘You know what?’ he said. ‘That is
total crap
.’ The
last words were vehement and loud, and his eyes were roaming around like a
madman’s.

I started backing away as he took to cursing the air with
passion.

‘Hey!’ he roared, catching my movement.

He lunged forward, reaching for me with a bloody hand.

I didn’t think – I just flung the shoes, both of them. They
arced through the air, and one of them caught him in the face. I didn’t wait to
see whether he’d go down; I turned and set off down the alley.

Behind me, I heard a stream of swear words and then my name.
He was calling me back.

I ignored him, focusing on the lights at the end of the
alley. If I could just get out onto the street, where there were people, I’d be
safe. My ankle was killing me, but I hobbled on regardless, expecting any
moment to feel a hand grab my arm, my throat.

I burst onto the main street. It was empty, except for some
blokes outside a takeaway wearing ‘Kev’s Stag Do’ t-shirts and toasting each
other with beer cans. I crossed the street and walked up a little way, then
collapsed onto a bench just along from the club. I dialled Jude. He answered on
the first ring.

‘You okay?’

‘No.’

‘Where are you?’

‘Newquay. Outside a club. Infinity.’

He hung up.

I took some deep breaths, all the while keeping my eyes
fixed on the mouth of the alley. A rustle beside me made me shriek, but then
Jude was sitting down beside me.

‘What happened?’ he asked urgently.

‘Daniel.’

‘Where?’ He scoured the vicinity.

‘In an alley behind the club. There.’ I pointed.

‘When?’

‘Just now.’

‘What happened?’

‘I interrupted him killing some bloke.’

If I hadn’t have been clinging to his shirt sleeve like a
limpet to a rock, Jude would have been down the alley by the time I finished
uttering the word ‘killing’.

‘Let go!’ He stood over me, trying to shake off my grip. ‘If
I can heal –’

‘The man is fine,’ I said quickly. ‘He ran off.’

Jude stopped struggling.

‘Don’t leave me alone,’ I pleaded.

He switched his attention from the alley to me. Whatever he
saw in my eyes made him sink down beside me and say in a low and gentle voice:

‘It’s okay. I’m here now. You’re safe with me.’

I was. I knew that.

I relinquished his shirt sleeve. The cotton stood in a small
mountain, puckered and stretched, and I automatically tried to smooth it out.
Then realised I was effectively stroking Jude’s arm, and stopped.

‘What happened, Scarlett?’

I told him everything – from the hallucination in the club
right through to calling him.

‘You challenged him? Scarlett! That’s insane.’

‘He was crushing the man’s throat! He was going to kill him!
And afterwards… he has Sienna, Jude. He
knows
her.’

‘Okay, okay.’

Fists drummed on my legs. He stilled my hands with his own.
The warmth helped, a little.

‘Is he gone, do you think?’

‘Yes, he’s gone. He won’t come near you while I’m here.’

My phone started ringing, but I ignored it.

‘Why was Daniel here, in Newquay?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Is it me? Is it because I’m here?’

‘It could be a coincidence. But it’s a bit close for
comfort.’

‘Would he – would he have hurt me?’

Jude was adamant: ‘No. Why would he? The Fallen promised to
leave you alone in return for Claiming Sienna, and they’ve stuck to that.
Besides, even if Daniel broke his word, the most he’d do is try to convince you
to go with him.’

‘But I saw what he is – cold, violent. Couldn’t he just…
take me?’

‘Kill you, you mean? Claim you that way?’

I nodded.

‘No, Scarlett. Remember what I told you: you have to
choose
to be Cerulean. When you die, you have to choose the blue light. You can’t be
coerced into Becoming. Free will. So there’d be no point in Daniel killing you
– you’d just choose the white light instead and be lost to the Fallen.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I’m sure.’

I slumped forward and buried my head in my hands. My phone
started up again. I waited for it to ring out. It would be Luke, I knew,
wondering where I was. I wasn’t ready to put on a mask of normality yet.

‘Your ankle…’ said Jude.

Already it was swollen, and it throbbed horribly. We looked
around – the stag party had staggered off and there was no one in sight other
than the bouncer outside the club, who was caught up in conversation with
someone inside. Jude dropped off the bench to kneel in front of me. Then,
gently, he took my ankle in his hands. Warmth flooded up my leg, and I stared
at the light he was creating. The blue of it chased away so much of the
darkness.

In a few moments, he was done.

‘Thank you,’ I said, rotating my foot. The ankle was as good
as new. I didn’t bother mentioning that my tailbone had also taken a painful
knock. I didn’t fancy his healing hand there.

Jude raised himself a little on his knees, so that our eyes
were level, and he studied me. Then sighed. ‘If only all pain was so easily
healed,’ he said. ‘Your head – what you saw in there…’

‘Maybe it
was
Sienna,’ I said, in a voice that was
too hollow.

‘No, Scarlett. It wasn’t her. Wherever she is, she’s…’ He
seemed to struggle for the word. ‘… away. Not here. Not out living it up in a
Newquay nightclub. There’s no way the Fallen would give her that freedom. She’s
female. She’s precious.’

What an odd thing to say. But before I could question him on
it, he was asking, ‘Have you seen other things that weren’t there, Scarlett?’

I feigned interest in the pavement.

He touched a finger to my temple lightly, and then sighed
and let his arm drop. ‘The symptoms will only worsen, you know.’

‘Thanks for that ray of sunshine.’

Jude sat down beside me. And jerked up again.

‘Luke…’

‘Knows nothing,’ I said miserably. ‘I’m keeping it well
hidden from him and Cara.’

‘No – Luke!’
Jude hissed.

He nudged me sharply so that I looked up. To see my
boyfriend – huge, gorgeous and very, very glowery – marching across the street
towards us.

‘What the hell?’ Luke stopped in front of the bench,
blocking the light from the streetlamp opposite and casting Jude and me in
shadow. ‘I’ve been looking all over for you. Calling you. What are you doing?
With
him
?’

I stared up at him, trying furiously to come up with an
explanation that would blast the hurt from his eyes.

‘Scarlett?’

Jude stepped in smoothly. ‘Hey, Luke,’ he said. ‘I brought
Scarlett out here.’

Luke glared at him. ‘Where the hell did you spring from?’

‘Fashionably late as usual, mate.’

‘I didn’t realise you were invited.’

‘Aren’t I always? I have some work stuff on this weekend,
though, so I figured I’d just show my face for the clubbing. You know me – love
a session with banging music.’

‘You do?’ Luke looked mystified.

‘Who doesn’t?’

‘But why are you out here?’

Again, Jude answered for me: ‘Scarlett felt rough.
Overheated. I brought her out for some air.’

That did it – Luke switched his attention to me. ‘Are you
okay?’

‘I am now,’ I said with a smile. God, I hated lying to him.

He sat beside me and touched a hand to my cheek, my
forehead. ‘You’re cold. You’re pale.’

‘Really, I’m fine.’

‘I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have left you if I’d realised.’

‘Honestly, Luke, don’t worry about it.’

Jude cleared his throat. ‘Well, now you’ve got Luke to keep
an eye on you, Scarlett, I guess I’ll leave you to it. Okay?’

There was a slight emphasis on the last word and his eyes
bored into mine.

‘Yes,’ I told him. ‘I’ll be okay.’

He nodded and smiled. Then caught Luke’s glower.

‘Right. Later, then.’

‘Bye, Jude,’ I called as he walked away down the street.
‘Thank you.’

‘Any time,’ he replied without looking back.

‘Hey!’ shouted Luke.

Jude halted mid-step. Took a breath. Turned.

‘What, mate?’

‘Banging music you so love? It’s
that
way.’ Luke
pointed across the road to the club. Which was in the opposite direction to
which Jude had been walking.

‘Oh!’ said Jude. ‘Yes. That’s it. Hordes of people. Loud
music. Brilliant.’

With a final look at me, he strode off. Luke and I sat in
silence for a moment, watching the doorman and Jude converse. I couldn’t hear
them, but their body language made the conversation pretty clear:

Jude: THAT much to get in?

Doorman: Yes.

Jude: That’s a lot of money!

Doorman: Yes.

Jude: Can I just duck in and –

Doorman: No.

Jude: Can I just –

Doorman: No.

Jude rooted about in his back pocket and counted out coins.
A lot of coins. Then he stepped into the club and out of sight. I wondered how
long he’d last before finding a dark corner from which to disappear.

‘Scarlett…’ said Luke beside me.

He sounded concerned. Dammit. I’d watched Jude for too long.
Luke knew there was something going on. He knew I’d been lying. He knew –

‘… where on earth are your
shoes
?’

‘Oh!’ I said, and relief made me loud. ‘My SHOES!’

Luke, who had been leaning forward and inspecting my feet,
peered up at me. ‘Blake,’ he said. ‘Are you drunk?’

‘No.’

‘Then why are you shouty? And barefoot?’

‘Er…’

My boyfriend scrutinised my face. ‘Sing,’ he said.

‘What?’

‘Sing.’

‘Sing what?’

‘Whatever you like.’

‘I don’t want to sing! I don’t sing!’

‘You don’t sing
sober
. You do sing drunk.’

‘No way.’

‘Yes way. You sang “New York, New York” to me on tequila.’

‘I did?’

‘Yep.’

‘That’s… that’s… highly embarrassing.’

He waited.

‘And
not
happening tonight, Luke! I’m not drunk!’

I sounded upset. I
was
upset. Sienna. Daniel. Luke
catching me with Jude. My first sniffle broke the spell.

‘Hey! Don’t cry!’ Luke wrapped his arms around me and pulled
me against him. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to give you a hard time.’

‘S’okay,’ I mumbled into his shirt. It smelt like his
aftershave.

He kissed the top of my head, and then leaned back so he
could look at me. ‘You want to tell me what happened?’

‘Yes,’ I said. That much, at least, was the truth.

‘Well?’

‘After you went to the bar I felt weird. Jude turned up and
took me outside. I felt better. You came out.’

‘How did you end up barefoot?’ His eyes never left mine for
a moment.

‘My shoes were hurting me, so I ditched them.’

‘Where?’

I pointed and he turned to look.

‘The club?’

‘The alley behind it. We came out of the fire exit.’

‘Right.’ He crouched down on the pavement with his back to
me. ‘Hop on,’ he ordered. ‘Let’s go find them.’

I thought of the sandals. Of ripping them off. Brandishing
them in front of me. Throwing them at a killer.

‘Really, I’m not bothered,’ I said.

‘Well, I am. I
love
those shoes. Remember that first
party?’

I did. The night Luke and I had first crossed the line from
friends to
almost
something else. I’d been wrestling with the straps,
and he’d knelt before me and taken over, slowly, tenderly, doing them up. The
feel of his fingers brushing my sensitive skin… the memory made me tingle.
Suddenly, I loved those pinching, too-tall, not-at-all-my-style shoes as well.

To retrieve them meant returning to the alley. Not a
pleasant thought. But with his prey lost, Daniel would surely be gone by now.
And if not… well, I’d be with Luke. Easily a match for Daniel in size and
strength, and very, very protective of me.

I climbed onto Luke’s back.

‘Thank goodness for that,’ he said, standing easily despite
the added weight and striding off across the road. ‘I was starting to think I’d
have to be gallant and offer you my shoes. This way? Man, it’s dark down here.
Ah-ha – hello, little red heels! We missed you.’

He stopped right by the fire exit and, for want of anywhere
else to put me but the ground, eased me onto an industrial bin. ‘Sit right
there, Ms Blake.’

As he reached down I briefly registered my shoes placed
neatly on the step of the door, toes out, heels together, as if arranged for
display in a store, and then I went back to scouring the shadows. There were
plenty. Luke was right – it was really gloomy here. No light at the other end
of the alley now. We were alone. And yet my heart was banging in my chest as if
Daniel was standing over me. Right there, he’d been. Glaring. Swearing.

‘Scarlett,’ said Luke. He tapped my leg. ‘Hey.’

‘What?’

My footwear dangled forlornly from his hand. ‘Destined for
shoe heaven, I’m afraid. Ripped strap. Bent heel. And… yeuck! Some kind of gunk
on them.’ He dropped them and wiped his hand down his jeans.

Blood. That’s what he was wiping off. Blood from Daniel’s
hands. Blood from the man he’d been ready to kill. I felt sick. I felt hot all
over. I felt cold.

‘Ah well. Cara will be ecstatic at the prospect of shopping
for a replacement.’

‘Can we go now?’ I whispered.

‘Sure. Piggy-back to the taxi rank it is then. Hey – what is
it? You’re shaking!’

‘I don’t like it here. It’s too… dark.’

He looked at me for one heartbeat, two, three, four – I felt
my pulse in my temples, too fast, stirring up pain. Then he slid one arm under
my knees and another around my back and scooped me up.

‘It’s okay,’ he said as he carried me towards the light.
‘You have me, Scarlett. You never have to be scared.’

If only that were true,
I thought.

*

The apartment was empty when we got back. Luke had texted
the others to let them know we were done with clubbing, and Cara’s reply –
Lightweights!
It doesn’t close for two hours! –
indicated we wouldn’t have company for a
while yet. He set me down on a bench by the door and flicked all the switches
so that the hallway had the stark brightness of an operating theatre.

‘Better?’ he asked, sitting beside me and wrapping his arms
around me as he had in the taxi – tight enough to stop the shivers.

‘Yes. Thanks.’

‘I didn’t know the dark bothered you.’

‘It didn’t used to.’

There was a pause, and then he said gently, ‘Sienna?’

No,
I wanted to say.
Daniel.
He was the man in
the darkness. But he wasn’t the darkness itself. He wasn’t what made me tremble
with fear and anger and grief. That was Death.

Sienna’s.

Mine.

There was no time to speak. I moved quickly in his arms so
that I was straddling him and I wound my fingers into his hair and I pulled him
to me so that his lips crashed onto mine and I held him there as I kissed him –
urgently, desperately. For the briefest of moments surprise rendered him still,
and then he was meeting my every move eagerly.

‘Bed,’ I breathed against his mouth.

He slid his hands under me and lifted me and carried me down
the hallway. But he passed the spiral staircase leading to our room.

‘Bed!’ I protested.

‘Bath,’ he replied. ‘Your feet are black.’

‘I don’t want a bath.’

‘You need one.’

‘I need
you
.’

It was meant to be a suggestive comment, but it came out
wrong. It rang with truth: I did need him, right now. I needed to
feel
,
to be lost in sensation. I needed to be as far from alone as a person can be. I
needed to be alive.

He halted mid-stride and kissed me so hard that it was a
good job he was holding me or I’d have been a molten puddle on the floor.

‘And I need
you
,’ he said, mouth still on mine. ‘It’s
a bath for two.’

‘Oh!’ I said.

And for the next half hour, that was the only word I could
think to say.