Vision In Love (Legends of The North Book 1) (19 page)

How could he plan when he didn't know what was coming?

Emma pulled on Barney's lead and dragged him down the lane where, at the gate to the field, there was a sign blowing in the wind. Apparently, it was lambing season. Having lived most of her life in the area, how could she not know February was lambing season? She was worried about crossing the field. Were sheep known to attack to protect their young? She knew cows did, but surely if sheep did, she'd know that, too.
 

Barney leaped over the stile and, feeling silly, she followed him over. The field was waterlogged and her wellies squelched as they pulled free of the mud. Halfway across the field, she heard bleating from the next one. As she neared the gate, she could see the lambs as they leaped, wriggling their tails, their mothers nearby.
 

As she entered their field, she saw the sheep turn to watch her, bleating, calling their young to them. But one sheep remained silent, just staring at her. Barney made a noise like a whimper and she stopped, thinking maybe she should turn back. Barney pulled against his lead and managed to slip his collar. He ran back across the field as she called after him.
 

She started to follow him, but a flash of silver caught her attention. Looking over her shoulder, the sheep was within touching distance. Its eyes were the same colour as the grass and sparkled even though the morning sky was dull. Both facts struck her as odd. She'd never noticed a sheep's eyes before; were they normally such a vivid green? She took a step back from the sheep in case it felt the need to warn her off.

As she did so, the sheep's mouth opened and silver flashed again as two fangs slowly lowered into sight. They glistened, a strand of saliva hanging from them before dropping to the ground. She noticed the other sheep running off to the next field without making a sound. Taking a step back, she found herself mesmerised as its eyes began to glow. Its whole body seemed to shimmer before turning a sleek black as its wool disappeared into nothing. She opened her mouth and, although she thought about screaming, no sound came out. For a moment, she wondered if she was having another vision, but somehow she knew it was different.
 

A snarl erupted from the beast in front of her and she turned to run, but her feet stuck in the mud and she fell. She pushed herself up, letting out a cry as she felt its claws pierce her skin as its weight landed on her back. The breath was shoved from her lungs, and she struggled to breathe as her face was pushed into the mud. She flung her arms out, trying to claw at it with her own nails until she felt something damp and cold coil around her wrists, binding them together. Her arms were pulled behind her, and she arched back to try and stop the pain. She took a deep breath as her head strained back before agony lanced through her. The foul smell of its cool breath had her gagging as it hit her neck.
 

Then its fangs sank into her throat and blackness descended.

***

Matt fastened his shirtsleeves and checked his satchel for the papers he was going to mark that morning. He had a feeling it would be a quiet day at the museum, again. Putting his used coffee cup in the sink, he looked up at the sky through the window. It had suddenly darkened, and the heavy clouds he could see explained why.
 

He checked the clock again and officially started to worry. Emma was always back before he left for work when he stayed at her place. Back
long
before he left usually, so they could have breakfast together. What if she'd gotten lost? But then he instantly dismissed the idea. She'd grown up around here and had been back for five months, walking Barney on the same lanes every morning and evening. What if Barney had gotten lost? What if he'd run off chasing after a bird? After all, he'd done it before. He took one last glance out of the window and headed for the stairs.
 

As he passed the front door, he heard a scratching noise and opened the door, but there was no one there. He felt something brush against his legs and turned to see Barney's tail before he curled up in his bed. Matt stepped through the front door, looking up and down the street, but there was no sign of Emma. Slamming the door behind him, he ran upstairs to change his clothes.

Five minutes later, Matt slipped and slid his way across the wet field, as the cold rain ran down his neck. His hair stuck to his scalp and forehead, as he pushed it out of his eyes again. As he did, he caught sight of the purple raincoat Emma always wore for dog walking. She was sprawled out face down in the grass, and he ran toward her. Sinking to his knees next to her, he reached out, his hand hovering over her, unsure whether to touch her or not. As the shock of finding her wore off, he noticed her clothes were torn. Around her wrists was a red ring of raised skin.

"Ems," he whispered. He pressed two fingers against her neck and let out a shaky breath as he found her pulse. Dropping his forehead to the side of her head, he realised he could have lost her. He hadn't even told her how he felt about her, and he could have lost her. Did she even know how much she meant to him? As soon as she woke up, he'd make sure she knew.
 

He slid an arm beneath her chest, rolling her back against him. Sliding his other arm beneath her knees, he cautiously lifted her.
She looks so pale,
he noticed as he looked over her face. Slowly, he made his way back to Emma's house.
 

Lifting her higher against his chest, Matt leaned against the front door and kicked at it. He could hear Barney barking and hoped Jess was in to hear it, too. After what felt like hours to his burning muscles, the door was finally flung open. Jess stood in her pyjamas, her hair looking like a Medusa sculpture and a scowl across her face. Her gaze dropped to Emma lying limply in his arms and she stepped back.

"What happened?"

Carefully, he laid Emma down on the sofa, keeping Barney from leaping on her. "Whatever attacked me decided to have a go at Emma. I don't know how, Jess, but this has to stop. I need to stop this. Now. Before anyone else gets hurt."

For the last week, Matt hadn't let Emma out of his sight. She had told him over and over that she was fine, but what if she was attacked again? At least if he was with her, he could protect her. But she'd finally had enough and kicked him out that morning, and he'd had no choice but to leave. He knew Jess would be with her all day, so that helped him cope.
 

He was going to make the most of his time. He'd spent the last four days pouring over Gran's diaries and finally thought he might have found something.
 

In the last diary, Gran had mentioned a man called Harry and a letter she had wrote to him. It wasn't his grandfather, he knew that much. So there he was, outside Altenbury Hall, willing himself to go inside. He wasn't sure what to say if his parents asked why he wanted to look through his gran's belongings. He doubted they would ask, though, since that would entail a certain degree of caring. A degree neither of them seemed to have. God help him if James came up in the conversation. He had an image of himself blurting out that they had found James and that his parents could relax. He couldn't bring any scandal to the family if he was dead.

As he waited on the doorstep, he rang the bell and heard the chimes ring through the house. As the door opened, he was surprised to be greeted by his mother.

"Matthew, it's wonderful to see you," she said, offering him her cheek.

Briefly, he kissed her cheek before stepping back. "Mother," he greeted. "I was hoping you had Gran's correspondence here. I wanted to take a look through it."

"Of course, it's all here. It's all boxed up in the attic until we have time to go through it. Is that what you want it for?"

He followed her into the sitting room, where she sat on the brocade sofa. He remained standing, not wanting to draw out the visit any longer than necessary. "Yes," he said in response to her question. Not technically a lie and he didn't plan on giving her any other information.

"Would you like some tea? Grace will be here shortly and you can catch up with her. You two haven't spoken in years, I believe. She always asks after you."

"Sorry, Mother, but I don't have the time. I'll go up to the attic if you don't mind, make a start." He didn't wait for her answer as he headed for the stairs, but he did hear her softly sigh.

***

Matt sat at the dining table in Emma's kitchen, surrounded by letters and journals. Three unopened boxes were still stacked in the corner.
 

Emma ran her hand through her hair. "The art of writing letters was clearly popular in your gran's day. I can't believe how many there are. I can't help but feel a bit sad we don't write letters anymore."

Matt looked up from the flowery piece of paper in his hand and smiled at Emma. "I'll write you a love letter, if you want."

She stood, smiling back at him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'd love a love letter from you." She started reading the one in his hand before Matt dropped it back on the pile.

"There's so much stuff to go through. What if there's nothing in here and we're just wasting our time?"

"I'm sure we'll find something," she replied, putting the kettle under the tap.

"But they're just between my gran and granddad. I think it happened before she met him."

"Well, let's put them in date order and then we'll have a starting point," she said, flicking the kettle on.

Three hours later, Jess walked in to find two piles of stationery and books. "You two look like you've been busy."

Matt glanced at the empty boxes then back to the piles they'd made. "This is all of Gran's correspondence we could find from before she met Granddad. And this," he said, gesturing to the smaller of the piles. "This is everything after she met him."

Jess took a chair opposite Emma and picked up an envelope from the larger pile. She flipped it over in her hands then inhaled deeply. "I can still smell Gran on it. Do you remember she used to spray all her private letters with her perfume?" Matt nodded. "I can help you go through all these," Jess said.

Emma stood, picking up one of the boxes and starting to fill it. "Why don't we order something for dinner and then we can all make a start on it?"
 

Emma rubbed a hand across her tired eyes and stretched her arms above her, rolling her neck. The scene of the kitchen reflected back at her in the black windows. "I don't know about you two, but I think your gran had a man she ... a man who helped her."

Matt covered Emma's hand with his own and gave it a squeeze. "It's okay. I think it's pretty obvious Gran had a man she was in love with before she married Granddad."

Jess looked up with tear-filled eyes. "He died. The monster killed the man Gran loved. Harry. His name was Harry, and she loved him."

"You okay, Jess?" Matt asked.

"Yeah, it's just so sad. They were so in love, you can tell from her journal. But he died on the night that they tried to kill the monster."

Emma put down the letter she had started to read. "Does it give a date?"

"She wrote it on the ..." Jess flipped back a few pages, skimming the tops. "She wrote it on the fourth of March, four days after it happened. She called it the ... Where is it?" she said to herself, flipping back through the pages. "Matronalia. 'The day before Matronalia was the day of reckoning.'" Jess looked up at Matt. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"It's a Roman festival," Matt said, as he picked up his satchel and pulled out his laptop. Waiting for it to boot up, he drummed his fingers against the tabletop. "In the Roman calendar, the first of March was the first day of the year." He stopped as he started to type then scrolled through whatever was on his screen. "It's the Festival of Juno, who was the goddess of childbirth, motherhood, and women in general."

Emma let out a long, loud breath that sounded like a hiss. "So, this monster attacks a woman on the day before a festival to honour women? Do you think it understood the idea of irony?"

"More like it was a sick, twisted puppy," Jess replied, walking toward the window.

"Hang on," Matt said. "The monster killed Gran's man, not her."

"Seriously? You're actually defending the monster?" Emma asked.

"No, of course I'm not. But maybe the dates are coincidental. Or maybe the monster thought it was protecting Gran."

Emma stared at Matt, her lips pursed in a look of disbelief. "If it was trying to protect your gran, it didn't do a very good job. Don't you remember your vision? Your gran had the marks around her wrist. It tried to attack her like it attacked me, remember?"

Matt flinched at her words. "I haven't forgotten. I'll never forget that day," he said, looking her straight in the eye.

She gave a brief nod before dropping her gaze. She knew how guilty he felt about what happened. Even though she'd told him over and over it wasn't his fault, he wouldn't listen. She didn't expect him to be by her side every hour of every day. When she heard the sound of his typing, she looked up. He seemed so serious. With a little smile, she asked, "Another spreadsheet?"

His fingers stilled and he glanced up at her. "There has to be a connection between everything that's been happening to us, maybe even to what Gran went through."

Emma shuddered and turned to where Jess was staring out of the window. "Did it say how he died, Jess?"

Jess lifted a hand to her cheek, brushing against it before she turned to face Emma. "The same way as James. It wraps its tail around you then kills you with its teeth and talons."

"So, Matt and I were just lucky?"

Matt shut his laptop lid and took Emma's hand in his. "We
were
lucky," he said. "But from what I've read, there were numerous attacks before the night Harry was killed. I think it was waiting for that date before it attacked, waiting until it had gathered enough strength."

"So, it's going to attack again soon. And when it does, will it kill one of us?" Emma asked.