"What happened?" Violet asked, hands on her hips as dust from the departing train whipped around us. She stil seemed woozy and was staggering as though drunk.
"It's a power vampires have. I can make people do my bidding. I don't like to do it, but it can come in handy." I hoped I wouldn't have to do any compel ing on our three-mile journey back to the manor. Who knew if Mrs. Todd at the post office or Mr. Evans at the general store were peeking out from behind their curtains, wondering what Stefan the groundskeeper was possibly doing with a crying, pale, sick girl. "But we're here, in Ivinghoe. You're safe."
Violet shook her head. "I'm not safe," she said, her voice low and faint. "I'm dying." I saw her flinch and realized that the sun must be agonizing to her. Red splotches were dotting her arms and legs, and her face was slicked with sweat. I glanced helplessly at my lapis-lazuli ring, wishing there was something I could do. But I needed to be wearing the ring at al times.
"Let's go," I said, hooking my arm in hers and crossing to the shady side of the street. It wasn't much relief, but it was something. Then, together, we trudged up the winding path to Abbott Manor.
Chapter Fifteen
By the time we reached the path that led to the Abbott's back garden, my mind had cleared. The woods were beautiful, dark, wild, and mysterious.
One of the local legends was that long ago, fairies had settled the land and made it their home, hiding in the ample oak tree trunks and looking out for the forest life. Of course, I didn't believe the tale. I'd been through the woods and captured and kil ed enough animals to know there were no benevolent creatures protecting the forest. Or if there were, then they had better things to do than save an errant squirrel or rabbit that was caught in the clenches of a vampire's fangs. Stil , the story comforted me, if only because it proved that humans could stil believe in good, even when so much evil lived in their midst.
We walked toward the clearing, where the sprawling three-story brick manor house rose up on the crest of a hil .
"Here we are," I said, gesturing to the vast expanse, as if I were a king showing off my land to my subject.
"It's nice," Violet said, a smal smile creeping onto her pale lips. "Green. It reminds me of home." I heard the dog bark and I startled. I knew that most likely Luke or Oliver would be nearby, and I didn't want them to see Violet. There would be too many questions I didn't think I could answer. Hastily, I swept Violet into my arms and into my tiny cottage. Safely inside, I had her sit at my rickety kitchen table. I quickly changed my shirt, washed my face, and ran water through my hair. In the mirror, I saw Violet eyeing me inquisitively.
I turned around and she licked her lips.
"I'm so thirsty," Violet whimpered.
"I know," I said helplessly.
Just then, the cabin door creaked open. I glanced around in a panic. Perhaps my cabin wasn't as secluded as I needed it to be.
"Stefan, you're back!" Oliver came barreling inside, his tiny footsteps echoing on the floor. He threw his arms around my knees. "I thought I saw you. You came home early! Are we going hunting today?"
"Not yet," I said, ruffling his fine blond hair and trying to choke back my guilt. "I have a visitor. Oliver, this is Violet." His eyes widened at the site of her, reminding me of the way Violet captivated the crowds at the theater. She did have something special about her.
"She's my cousin," I lied as Violet sank to her knees and held out her hand.
"Hel o, little man," she said, giving Oliver a big smile.
But Oliver continued to stare at her, not moving a muscle. His face subtly changed from a sense of wonder to hesitation. Could he somehow sense her new nature? Back in Virginia, our horses would always become uneasy when Katherine was in their midst. But could the same apply to children?
"Is she going hunting with us?" Oliver asked, not taking his eyes off Violet.
"No, I'm sorry, she can't," I said briefly, hoping he wouldn't push for an explanation.
"Can you at least come to dinner? We've missed you, Stefan!"
"Yes. Why don't you run up and let Mrs. Duckworth know that Violet and I are here? We'l see you soon." Oliver nodded, but didn't move.
"Go on!" I urged. I hadn't wanted the Abbotts to meet Violet. I'd wanted her to die in peace. But I didn't want to arouse suspicion, and now we'd have to attend dinner and pretend that everything was in order. Already, Violet's skin had taken on a ghastly pal or, a clear indication that death was working its way through her body. Who knew how much worse she'd be in an hour? Time was of the essence, and I felt terrible that I was making her spend her last few hours living a lie.
"Yes, Stefan," Oliver said, trudging out the door and up the stone walk to the house.
"We have to go to dinner," I said. "I'm sorry."
"No, that's okay," Violet said. She looked drawn and overwhelmed, and guilt twisted in my stomach. Maybe she'd find some smal comfort at the farmhouse. At least I could hope.
"I'm going to tel them that you're my second cousin," I explained as I led her up the winding path toward the large brick manor house. "We met in London and I invited you to the country for a few days. Does that sound okay?" Violet nodded. She was stil licking her lips and I couldn't help but notice how large her pupils were becoming. She was wel into the transition, cresting to the peak where her very being was fighting to survive in any way possible, even if that meant drinking blood.
"Stefan!" George bel owed as we entered the foyer. It was clear Oliver had relayed my message, and he'd been expecting us. George's paunch was straining against his waistcoat, and his face was redder than ever. "You're here in time for dinner. And I was worried you'd be so caught up by the city that you'd never come back to the country. But I see you came home! And with company!" he added, his gaze flicking curiously toward Violet.