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[Fosswell 01.0] A Brush With the Moon Page 7

He turned to challenge me, but I out-stared him, and he thought better of it and retreated into the crowd.

  “Thanks for that,” said a grateful Marie as I sat down and placed my wine in front of me. “Oh, we’d already got you another one. Here,” she said, sliding a full goblet next to my almost empty one.

  “Thanks,” I said, then drained mine and picked up the new one. “I suddenly feel the need to get drunk.”

  Very drunk.

  Chapter Eight

  THE MAZE OF corridors was never-ending. I looked repeatedly over my shoulder, checking for the old man who was chasing me relentlessly. The corridors darkened and became underground tunnels. I struggled to keep breathing, but I didn’t stop running through the school basement. There was no way out. The man changed to a boy, and I suddenly found myself in a large room full of students who all turned to stare as my pursuer pulled a knife and lunged forward. I tripped over a chair, landed on a table, and turned just in time to see the blade flash as it descended towards my neck.

  ***

  The next morning I awoke nauseated and with a stinking headache. I didn’t dare move. I focused on the curtains. They were closed, but the grey light emanating through them told me that the day was as miserable as I felt.

  I tried to recall the previous night, but the end of the evening was a total blur, and I couldn’t remember anything about my journey home at all. I was experiencing my first real hangover, having never been more than a little tipsy before.

  I attempted to sit up, but something was inside my head trying to break out with a hammer. Why had I drunk so much? A sudden wave of nausea hit, and I needed to get to the bathroom quickly. I pulled the duvet to one side, eased my legs over the edge of the mattress, and noticed that I was wearing my black bra and knickers set from last night. Where were my cosy PJs? Why hadn’t I put them on? Had I undressed myself, or had someone else done it? Beth would kill me if she’d had to put babysitting me before a hot date.

  On my way to the bathroom, I zombie-walked past my dress, carefully folded over the back of my recently acquired Lloyd Loom chair, and managed to reach the toilet in the nick of time before retching the pink contents of my cramping stomach into the pan. I was never going to drink again.

  Back in the bedroom, I wrapped my weakened body in a cosy dressing gown and slid on my fluffy slippers before heading to the living room.

  Justin was asleep on the sofa, snoring lightly. He was minus the wolf’s head but still sporting the oversized furry feet. Beth was already up and busy in the kitchen.

  “Here she is. Still alive, darling?”

  “Not sure. Feel like shit. What time is it?” I mumbled.

  “Ten thirty. Go sit down. I’ll bring you a cup of tea.”

  “Thanks.” I sat in the chair and folded my feet under me, still trying to remember the night’s events. The details became hazy after goblet number four.

  Beth came over with my tea and a couple of painkillers. She prodded Justin and kicked his legs. “Come on, lazybones. Shift your ass before I sit on you.” He groaned and curled up, leaving enough room for Beth to squeeze in beside him.

  Praying that they’d work soon, I threw the tablets into my mouth and took a gulp of tea.

  “So, you wanna hear about my night?” Beth chirped.

  Yeah, that would be right, me-me-me Beth wanted to talk about her night. “Sure,” I said, resigned to listening and hoping it wouldn’t make my headache any worse.

  “You’ll never guess who I was snogging the face off for most of the night. Go on, guess.”

  “Beth, not only are you far too chipper for a morning after, it’s not hard to guess who unless there was someone else after your rock god.”

  “Well, firstly, unlike some people, I wasn’t drinking. Driving, remember? And secondly, of course there wasn’t anyone else. I think we have something special, Jimmy and I. He may be the one.”

  “Beth, you always think they’re the one.”

  “Yeah, but this time it’s different, and you still haven’t guessed who he is,” she persisted annoyingly.

  “How am I supposed to know?” My head was killing me, and I wished she’d hurry up.

  “Wait for this.” She paused. I felt like I’d been waiting for a year already. Could she not just get to the point? “Jimmy is Sebastian’s brother!”

  His brother? My head exploded as I realised why the guitarist’s eyes had been familiar. I tried to picture the guy I’d seen last night. Quite tall, slim but muscular—like his brother—with a mop of brown, curly hair just long enough to brush his shoulders, a goatee beard, and a wide smile.

  “Soph, are you okay? It’s not as if I snogged Sebastian. I left that to Lara—joke—well, not a joke, actually, but he didn’t look as if he was enjoying it. Anyway, Jimmy is his older brother by four years, the black sheep of the family by all accounts. He’s a big disappointment to their father because he dropped out of college to tour Europe with his band. There’s a sister too. She looks after their grandmother, and Mr Lovell Senior expects Sebastian to carry on the family business. Jimmy says Sebastian’s always been the favourite. I got the feeling that’s what made Jimmy go off the rails.”

  “Wow, Beth, you managed to talk a lot between rounds of sucking face. I’m impressed.”

  “Well, at least I was getting a bit, unlike a certain person who spurned the advances of many a suitor last night. Not to mention the ever-attentive Vincent, whom Sebastian had to prise away from your drunken self before whisking you off home in a taxi.”

  Suddenly remembering my underwear, I said, “Sebastian brought me home? Did he put me to bed?”

  “How would I know? I guess so, if you didn’t do it yourself. Anyway, he was back soon after, and he and Connor dragged Jimmy away somewhere, so I didn’t stay long after that.”

  I’d thought it was a dream. Sebastian slowly peeling off my dress, stroking my neck, laying me gently on the bed. Was it really just the mundane chore of putting a drunk to bed? How dare he take advantage. Did I care?

  More fractured memories began to reconstruct themselves in my head, like disjointed scenes from a film I was struggling to string together coherently. I vaguely remembered Vincent with his claustrophobic arm around me, force-feeding strawberries into my unwilling mouth. I also remembered a group of strange-looking men with very pointed ears and spiky faces, a couple at the next table who were covered with tattoos and had elaborate swirling patterns cut into their shaven heads, and a woman with a blue face. But most of all I remembered Sebastian and Lara together.

  “I have to say, after Sebastian led you away, Vincent looked pretty pissed,” Beth added. “He left soon after. He’s weird, Soph. Don’t encourage him.”

  “I’m doing my best not to.”

  ***

  The new week arrived and routine took over. Concentrating on my work made it easier to forget the weirdness surrounding me. For the first few days, campus was rife with gossip about the ball. Rumours of who the strange visitors were, and tales of who’d been snogging whom, were whispered through the halls. There were many no-shows for class, including the Lovells and the bunny triplets. Not that I could blame any of them for milking it; I still felt slightly queasy myself.

  Beth was sulking in her room because Jimmy hadn’t called, so my evenings were spent in solitude, and I alternated my time between artistic pursuits and the Internet. I discovered that Jimmy (short for James) Lovell and his band Lunar Hex were a big deal in Europe. They’d even had a couple of number one albums. I couldn’t see things turning out well for Beth.

  It was Wednesday evening when the floor vibrated and a thunderous rumble reverberated through the flat. I rushed to the back window. Through the holes in the balcony, I watched the downstairs door close as an ambulance pulled out onto the backstreet cobbles. I’d lived here for over two months, and this was the first body I’d heard being delivered.

  Beth ran into the room. “What was that noise? Do you think it was an earthquake?” She sounded panicky.
r />   “In Fosswell? Don’t be stupid. They were bringing in a body downstairs.”

  “A body? Really? Did you see it?” Panic had turned to excitement in her voice.

  “No. Just the ambulance. Shh.” I struggled to hear the muffled voices downstairs and strained to make out the content of the conversation, failing miserably. “Probably just some old dear who died of old age at the hospital.”

  “Mmm, I suppose,” Beth said, entering back into depression.

  ***

  I stared at the vision hovering over my bed. It spoke. ‘It’s starting. Evil is rising, and you must join the fight. Not all things are as they seem. Tread carefully and learn to see beyond that which is visible to the eye. I trust you to make the right choices, Sophie. Let your heart lead you down the right path. I would not have chosen you if you weren’t able.’ Tokala curled slowly, her body shrank, her face grew white hair, and she transformed into her fox form before vanishing.

  Damp sheets stuck to my clammy skin. I sat up and wiped the moisture from my forehead, but despite sweating, I was shivering. The morning was cold and crisp, and I wrapped my dressing gown tightly over my PJs before opening the curtains. A light frost had formed overnight, and paper-thin crystals edged the windowpanes like delicate lace.

  In the living room, I turned on the television and the electric heater next to the sofa before heading over to the kitchen to switch on the kettle. As I waited for it to boil, the news came on.

  “The girl’s body, found yesterday near Fosswell woods, has been confirmed as that of local student Simone Blake,” the newsreader announced as I finished making the tea.

  Beth ambled into the room and did a double take at the television, now showing a huge photo of Simone behind the newsreader’s head.

  “What the…?” she gasped, sitting down.

  “Shh.” I silenced her and gave her a cup of tea as the newsreader continued.

  “Simone was last seen on Saturday evening, attending a Halloween ball at Lovell Towers. Sources say the student was a popular and lively girl with no enemies. Her death is believed to be the result of being repeatedly stabbed in the neck and chest with a scalpel blade, and sustaining great blood loss. No suspects have yet been apprehended. Anyone with information is asked to call the number at the bottom of the screen.”

  “How awful,” Beth said. “You never think anything like that will happen to somebody you know.”

  I wasn’t really listening to Beth. My mind was otherwise engaged with memories of Saturday night—earlier, soberer memories of a group of rather menacing but very good-looking vampires taking an interest in three bunny girls. Surely not! Monsters such as vampires didn’t really exist, did they? Many creatures were supposed to be confined to myth and legend, and yet I’d met one, hadn’t I? Words from my previous night’s dream came back to me. See beyond what is visible to the eye. Was this what she’d meant? Were there things out there, hidden amongst us, that no one saw because we didn’t want to believe they really existed—or they were masquerading as ordinary human beings?

  Instinctively, I walked to my room and began dressing for the day, my mind drifting back to the party. Thinking about it, there had been many extremely good costumes. The guys with the spikes, the man with the horns, the ladies too beautiful to be Halloween witches. In fact, every probable guest of Mr Lovell Senior.

  But the Lovells themselves seemed perfectly normal. Sebastian was clearly all man, and Beth hadn’t mentioned finding any deformity on the part of his brother. And besides, what had all this got to do with me? Why was I even thinking about it? I was letting my imagination get the better of me.

  I stared at my reflection in the mirror, wearing blue patched jeans and plain black top…yep, definitely normal. I grabbed a colourful scarf, my Baker Boy hat, and my sheepskin coat, and, leaving my imagination behind, I left for uni.

  ***

  That evening, the field behind campus saw the annual Fosswell bonfire and firework display in full swing. Beth, Justin, and I found a great spot on a slight rise under an old oak tree, looking down on the activities. After downing the contents of a few cans, Beth and Justin were deep in conversation, so I pulled out my sketch book to record the scene below just as the display commenced. I was so engrossed in my picture that I didn’t notice Beth and Justin wander off to buy a hot dog. Nor did I notice Sebastian approach until he plonked himself down on the blanket next to me. Discarding my sketchbook, I bent my knees up and hugged them defensively.

  Even on a chilly November evening, I could feel the heat radiating from Sebastian’s nearby thighs. I stared up at the twinkling stars, dotted between occasional clouds, and secretly longed for him to wrap his warm arms around my shivering body.

  Finally, he spoke. “We need to talk.”

  I took a deep breath. “I can’t imagine what about.”

  A rocket flew over our heads.

  “Oh, I’m quite sure of that,” he said, pushing a stray lock of hair behind his ear and letting his hand brush lightly down my arm as it dropped to its resting point on his knee. His touch was like static electricity, and my resulting shiver was not from the cold this time.

  I willed myself to face him and stared into his intoxicating eyes, studying his beautiful face. The desire to kiss his soft, full lips was almost overwhelming.

  The night’s breeze moved a wandering cloud along on its journey, revealing the moon, and Sebastian’s eyes took on the same bright, animal-like glaze I’d witnessed in his room at Halloween. I was momentarily stunned.

  “You…you were there. I-In your room,” I stammered.

  “Yes.”

  “And then you were gone.”

  “Yes.” His voice was barely a whisper, a seductive whisper.

  I looked skyward when another rocket exploded in glorious colour overhead. I couldn’t think straight.

  I felt Sebastian’s body shift and move closer. He inhaled deeply at my neck, and I closed my eyes as baby breaths puffed around my ear. The tip of his tongue brushed my lobe and sent a spark through my body.

  “Admit it: you’ve been thinking about us, haven’t you?” he said.

  “Nooo.” I never had been a good liar.

  “Yes, you have. I understand, you know. I have too.”

  I had to resist. I opened my eyes and spotted Beth and Justin heading back towards us. Sighing, I turned to Sebastian. I was definitely losing it.

  He wasn’t there!

  Chapter Nine

  FRIDAY ARRIVED. Campus was closed as a mark of respect to Simone, and by ten o’clock, a large crowd of students had gathered along the street outside the church.

  Standing at one of the flat’s front windows, I surveyed the scene below. An elaborate, horse-drawn hearse was parked in front of the undertaker’s, and two black stallions, adorned with ostrich plumes in their bridles, whinnied and stomped their hooves with impatience. The funeral cortège had assembled on the pavement. Simone’s casket appeared, and the pallbearers gently lifted it onto the runners and fed it into the carriage.

  Justin’s head popped around the door. “Ready?”

  “Yeah, sure. Beth!” I called, and she dutifully appeared.

  The funeral was a typically sombre affair, alive with soggy tissues and streaky make-up. I stood at the back, letting the vicar’s voice wash over me, and spent the whole time staring at the flower-laden coffin, wondering if the lid would suddenly flip up and a fanged monster would escape to reap its vengeance on the congregation.

  Unsurprisingly, it didn’t happen, and as the mourners dispersed in the direction of the pub, I quietly snuck off home. I wasn’t in the mood for crowds and needed time to think, time to try to make sense of at least something, but as I turned to close the door, it was obstructed by a perfectly polished black shoe that belonged to…

  “Sebastian?”

  “Seb, please,” he said, easing his way through. “Only my father calls me Sebastian.” He checked down the backstreet and closed the door securely. His eyes scanned the fl
at. “Nice place.”

  “I like it.”

  “It doesn’t bother you? Living over a funeral parlour?” he asked.

  “Why would it? The neighbours are quiet.”

  He didn’t laugh at my joke; neither did he comment. He simply stood silently, staring. It was very unnerving and made my legs go all wobbly. Perhaps if I turned away from him, he’d disappear again? It was worth a shot. I forced my jelly legs over to the front window and stared out at nothing in particular. The light was subdued, and the sky had darkened to an air force grey. A low mist was beginning to carpet the distant fields, and I wondered if snow had been forecast.

  I knew my little experiment hadn’t worked. He was still there. I could feel his presence and smell his scent, a musky, inviting aroma that filled my senses and sent my head into a whirl, and it was getting stronger.

  “Your friends interrupted us the other day. Can we talk now?” he whispered softly into my neck, and his fingertips traced a fiery trail down my spine.

  “What’s the point? There’s nothing to say. I wish you’d just leave me alone,” I said, lowering my head in time to see Lara leaving the newsagents. She glanced up with a look of fury contorting her face as Sebastian’s hands reached around either side of me and grabbed the window frame.

  “I can’t do that. I’m not that strong,” he said.

  I studied the arms now imprisoning me, with their perfectly formed muscles straining against the rolled-up sleeves of his white shirt, and seriously doubted his statement. His stance was predatory and made me feel uncomfortable. I ducked under his elbow to escape, but he caught me around the waist and pulled me against him. Our bodies moulded together perfectly, and the strength of his grip made me feel like a china doll that he’d be able to crush in an instant. He was almost a full head taller than I was, and the warmth of his breath caressed my forehead. How easy it would be to reach up and taste those lips. I imagined the feel of them, and my own parted in an involuntary invitation. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t resist, so I looked up into his eyes. They locked with mine, making the longing unbearable.