Vision In Love (Legends of The North Book 1) (18 page)

Matt shook his head, taking her shaking hand between his.

"I thought I was going to fall. It definitely felt like I was falling. But just before I did, I saw beneath the oak tree. There was this mound of grass leading up to the tree, and just before it was a rose bush with four stones in a circle around it, on top of the mound." Emma slumped back against her chair, her chest rising and falling like she'd just finished a marathon.
 

Matt stood then moved to stare out of the window that faced in the direction of where Emma was describing. He pushed his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunching around his neck. Jess still hadn't said a word, just sat as though watching a tennis match, her head turning back and forth between the other two.
 

Emma stared at Matt's back. "Just before it was over, I saw something come out from behind the tree. It was circling the mound, like it was on guard or something."

Matt turned to face her, his eyebrows drawn together. "What was it?"

Emma let out a little laugh. "God, this is going to sound crazy." She sat up but Matt didn't say a word, just waited until she was ready to share. "It looked like–“ she took a deep breath then quickly said, “–it looked like two black horses pulling a black chariot with a man on it. The man saw me, tipped his hat at me and then they all disappeared."

Quiet took over the kitchen again; the humming of the fridge seemed to have grown much louder.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Jess asked, her chair scraping across the floor as she quickly stood.

Emma raised her shoulders and dropped her head. She had no idea what it was supposed to mean, and suddenly she was too tired to care.
 

Matt slowly shook his head, and Jess huffed then turned and left the kitchen. Matt squatted in front of Emma, rubbing his hands up and down her thighs. "It'll be okay, I swear."

Emma gave him a small smile and rested her forehead against his. "I know," she said. "I know it will be."

Emma narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips as Jess strode back into the kitchen, placing her laptop on the table as she sat back down.

Jess switched it on and said, "If in doubt, Google it."

"Google what? Crazy visions?"

Jess scowled at Emma and logged onto the laptop, opening the Internet. "You're not crazy, Emma. I'll search for the last bit. Black horses, black chariot, man with hat," Jess explained, her fingers tapping across the keyboard.
 

Emma poured herself another coffee, an excuse to give herself something to do more than anything else. She turned slowly back to Jess. Matt reached for her, pulling her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist. Emma felt the steady beat of his heart against her back, his body heat seeping into her. She relaxed back against him, her head resting on his shoulder. He gave her waist a quick squeeze.

"Okay. Some hits from Bible stories, one about art. Mmm, Hades, sounds interesting. Ooh, Pluto, also god of the underworld. Symbol is the cap of invisibility, a black chariot and black horses." Jess twisted to look at Matt and Emma. "Sounds promising, don't you think?"

Emma wasn't so sure, and Matt was unusually quiet. "What else does it say?" Emma asked.

"Let's see," Jess said as she scrolled down the page. "Okay, it says here that Pluto was described as the Roman god of death. Associated with festivals in winter related to the dead, which was when he was worshipped."

Emma felt Matt tense behind her. "What is it?"

"You said there was a mound beneath the oak tree."

She nodded, wondering where he was going with it. He released his arms from around her waist and began pacing the length of the kitchen. "What if–“ He turned, stopping to face them both. "What if it's a burial mound?"

Emma's eyes began to water and she quickly blinked, looking from Matt to Jess and back again before Matt carried on.

"In your other visions, you saw a mound of bodies. What if this is where they're buried?"

Emma's hand rose to cover her mouth as she slumped back into her chair.

"What?" Jess and Matt asked in unison.

"The pile of bodies I saw was at Altenbury Hall. What if the bodies buried there are all related to Altenbury Hall? Oh, my God. The last body ... The last man I saw on top of the mound was James. What if ... Did I kill him?"

"What?" Matt said. "How could you have possibly killed him? Technically, we don't even know if he
is
dead. All we know is that he's missing. And anyway, James went missing before you even moved back to the village, so how could you be responsible?"

"I don't know. But I was in a wedding dress at Altenbury Hall with blood dripping from my bouquet onto James's dying body. That makes me think I might be responsible."

He grabbed both of Emma's hands, pulling her to her feet to look her straight in the eye. "They are not real. You're not seeing real events. They are visions, dreams of some sort that can't be interpreted literally. It's like when you dream of someone dying, it doesn't mean they'll actually die. It's not a premonition."

"Then what do they mean?" Jess asked.

Matt stared at the ceiling. He slowly shook his head and said, "I'm not sure. But one thing I do know is that we should go take a look at where this mound was. Will you take us there, Ems?"

Emma looked from Matt to Jess and knew they weren't about to give up on this, weren't about to give up on her. So she nodded, glad not to have to deal with this alone.

The trio made their way across the field with Barney leading the way. None of them spoke, the air still around them and empty of the usual farm noises. No birdsong or voices of farm workers. As Emma approached the concrete of the bridge, she paused.

Matt stopped beside her, reaching for her hand. "What is it?"

She shook her head. "Nothing." With a determination she didn't really feel, she strode onto the bridge, but all remained quiet. She crossed the bridge in four strides, her feet hitting grass again with nothing out of the ordinary happening. "Barney, come on," she called as he headed down their normal route. She headed for the oak tree instead, and Matt and Jess followed. Stopping just before where the field dropped away, she let out a sigh of disappointment. There was nothing there. No mound, no rose bush, nothing. Just the field dropping away before levelling out beneath the oak tree.

Slowly, she made her way down the hill, drawn to the oak tree. She trailed her hand across the rough bark, circling it until she reached the back of the tree. She saw nothing until she turned to face the hedgerow, which was split with bushes.

"Your rose bush," Jess said.

"No, it's not."

"Yes. These are rose bushes, Emma. They're just not in bloom."

"No, I know they're rose bushes. They just aren't the ones I saw."

"How do you know they're not?" Matt asked.

"Because I've never seen anything like them before. The bush was covered in blooms. They were buttery yellow, almost golden, with a scarlet streak through them and along the edge of the petals. They probably don't even exist in real life."

Matt took her hand in his and pulled her back towards her home. "Come with me."

"Where to?" Emma asked.

"Trust me. It will be better if I just show you."

Emma and Jess exchanged glances but followed him anyway.

***

"We're going to Altenbury Hall?" Emma questioned. She glanced down at her scruffy sweater and jeans, wondering why Matt hadn't told her to change when they had stopped at her house.

"Not the actual hall," Matt said as he led them around the side of the building to the back, through a wooden gate and into the graveyard. They followed him through the headstones toward the oak tree. He stopped when he heard Emma's gasp. There, in full bloom, was the rosebush from her vision. Climbing the pillar, the golden petals contrasted vividly with the grey stone.

"You remember I said Gran loved roses?" Emma nodded as she stared at the blooms. "Granddad would always buy her red roses for her birthday, Valentine's, any occasion. But she preferred yellow ones. She found this rare breed, a combination of the two."

Emma smiled.
Such a sweet story.
"Is your granddad buried here?"

Matt turned and pointed toward the gate. "He's buried over there, Gran alongside him."

"What is this place, then?" Emma asked pointing to a building just behind them. She saw Jess shudder and turned toward her.

"It's a burial vault. Our oldest ancestors are buried in there. I got locked inside once by accident for hours. God, it was awful. It was so weird because no noise gets in there, and it was pitch black. It was like all my senses had been cut off."

"God, Jess, I'd forgotten about that. Mum was frantic. James got grounded even though it was an accident. He felt guilty about it for weeks after, never came near this place again." He took a bunch of keys from his pocket. "Dad padlocked it after that day," Matt said.
 

"Are those your keys?" Jess asked.

"Yes, well they were grans, I found them at the cottage when I was clearing it out."

"So, why don't you just let yourself into Alt Hall, like I do?"

Matt grinned at Jess. "To wind mum up. She hates it when I ring the doorbell."
 

Jess gave him a scathing look.

Lifting the rusty lock, he wiggled the key into the hole, jiggling it until the lock clunked open.

Emma placed her hand on his. "What exactly do you think we're going to find in there?"

Matt lifted his shoulders in response. "Won't know until we go in, will we?" He switched on the torch he had picked up as well and shouldered the door open. It scratched and scraped across the floor, sending the birds scattering out of the nearby trees. Cobwebs laced across the door, and Matt swiped at them with the torch. Entering first, he felt Emma grasp his belt firmly as she followed him inside. He arced the torch around the small opening and stopped on a raised stone plinth. There, laid out in full, as though on display at a funeral, was James. Jess ran toward him but stopped just before she could touch him, her hands flying to cover her mouth. Emma moved beside Jess and stared down at James.
 

"Oh, my God, Matt. Look at his neck," Jess exclaimed.

Moving to join them, he kept the torch angled on James. As he neared them, Emma could see in the dim light the raised red welt around James's neck. The same mark that she'd seen on Matt not so long before. Slowly, he moved the torch down to reveal that James's shirt was torn on the shoulders, scratch marks that were red and raised showing through the three rips. Over his heart, the cloth was missing completely. In its place were four puncture marks, blood red against his pale skin, two above and two below his heart.
 

"Was whatever did this trying to rip out his heart?" Jess cried out.

"Don't," Matt said as she reached out to touch James, but he was too late.

"His skin is so cold. It's like he's been frozen," Jess stated. "Is he? He's gone, hasn't he?" Her shoulders slumped with her words.

Matt put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. "Jess, he's been missing for so long. If he's been like this all that time then no, I don't think there's anything we can do for him."

She turned and sobbed against his chest. Although Emma had never known James, she couldn't stop her own tears, especially when she thought that this could so easily have been Matt.

Matt found Jess and Emma huddled around a corner table in the pub. He handed each of them a brandy and took the seat opposite Emma. Tilting the amber liquid around the glass, he watched it lace the inside then took a mouthful of it, welcoming the spread of its heat through his chest. It gave him something else to concentrate on.

"What are we going to do with ... him?"

At Jess's hesitation, he glanced up at her. Both her hands were wrapped around the glass as she stared into it, as though the answers could be found there. He glanced around the pub, but the two tables that were occupied were lost in their own conversations. He found himself staring into his own glass, lowering his voice before answering. "I think we should leave him where he is."

"What?"

"Keep your voice down, Jess. You asked, and that's what I think. What did you think I was going to say?"

She leaned in toward Matt. "I thought we should tell Mum and Dad. I don't know, arrange for him to be buried. We can't just leave him there."

Emma placed a hand on Jess's arm as she sat back in her chair. Before he could explain his reasoning, Emma spoke.

"I think he's right, Jess. When was the last time someone went in that vault? What reason did we have to be in there? If we move him, the police will get involved, and I don't know how we explain ..." She waved her hand in front of her neck. "Add in the fact that the doctor has seen the same marks and scratches James has on Matt and it's bound to raise suspicions."

"I don't care, we can't just leave him there," Jess said. She stood, knocking the table in her haste. "It's just wrong," she cried before hurrying out of the pub.

Matt stood to go after her, but Emma's hand on his arm stopped him. "Leave her for now. I'll go after her later, just give her some time for it to sink in."

He sat back down, slouching against the back of his chair. "Do you really think we should just leave him there?"

She reached across the table, taking his hand in hers. "Yes, I do. We don't know how he links into whatever is going on, and we can't explain all this to the police."

Matt leaned his head back against his chair and stared at the ceiling. "I agree with you, but I agree with Jess, too. It just feels wrong."

Emma squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry, Matt, but right now, I'm more interested in keeping you safe. You've already been attacked twice. What if you're not so lucky next time? What if next time, you end up like James? We don't know what's behind the attacks, let alone how to stop them."

He couldn't argue with her. Laughter carried through the pub as a group of young men pushed through the door, a reminder that life carried on no matter what they might be facing. But how could they fight something when they didn't know what it was?