Tide - By Daniela Sacerdoti Page 0,48
open it.”
Elodie shook her head. “It’s not Nicholas,” she said assuredly.
Sarah raised her eyebrows; she couldn’t help being impressed with Elodie’s gift.
Sean was already up and behind the door, his sgian-dubh in his hand. Elodie’s lips started turning blue, and Sarah stood, rigid and waiting in front of the living room window. Then she saw who it was, and all alarm left her.
“It’s OK,” she muttered to the others as she ran towards the door. “This I can handle.” She pulled the door open. “Uncle Trevor!” She wasn’t overly fond of him, but at least it wasn’t a demon.
“Sarah.”
Sarah frowned. She’d never seen her uncle so dishevelled in her whole life. His eyes were circled blue and red-rimmed.
“You stupid, selfish girl. You thought you could get away with it, didn’t you? Cut us out of your life forever. Well, you certainly accomplished that! With your witchcraft, or whatever it is you and your parents get up to. You’ve got what you wanted. And now you are dead to me. To us. You and your despicable family. Do you understand?”
His lips barely moved, but the venom in his words was crystal clear.
“I don’t understand. What happened?” Sarah asked, shocked. Her voice was trembling and already full of grief. Because she knew. She felt it.
“Playing dumb, are you? Well, that’s all you need to know. Never, never come near us again, do you hear me? You, or any of your insane family or little friends. Do you hear me, Sarah bloody Midnight?”
“Hey! Trevor!” Sean came out from behind the door. His dagger was behind his back, but he looked no less intimidating.
Trevor didn’t budge, didn’t change his expression. Grief had made him fearless.
“Is it Aunt Juliet?” Sarah whispered, a world of grief in her words.
That’s what it was, the weird feeling after I said goodbye to her the other day.
“You’re dead to us, Sarah,” Uncle Trevor snarled, and threw a bundle of keys – Sarah’s house keys – and a book at her feet. The book lay with its spine broken and open, its pages crumpled under their own weight.
Trevor turned and walked away. Sarah watched his broad back and his uncertain step down the gravelly path. He brought a hand to his face – Sarah guessed he was drying his eyes. That was the man with a swagger, who was always dressed in perfectly pressed designer clothes, who had the salesman’s smile perpetually painted on his face.
Sarah bent to retrieve the book. It was a photo album. She flicked through the pages in silence, shaking Sean’s hand off as he tried to touch her shoulder. The album was full of pictures of Sarah as a child, and of her mum.
“He didn’t tell me how,” she whispered desolately. “Oh my God, was it the demon-bird?” She clasped her hand on her mouth. “It got away. I should have killed it!”
Stricken, Sean took a step towards her once more, and again she stepped back.
“Aunt Juliet is dead,” she said aloud, like she couldn’t quite believe it.
Like my parents, like Leigh. And little Shadow. And it’s always my fault.
“Sarah! What happened?” Nicholas was walking up the path towards them.
Perfect timing, thought Sean.
“Who was that weird-looking guy coming out of here just now? Just barged past me. Sarah?” Nicholas had seen her face.
“Something happened to my aunt. I think she was attacked. I think she’s dead.”
Nicholas took the steps three at a time and enveloped her – such was Sean’s impression, that he’d swallowed her whole with his huge frame.
“Shhhh,” Nicholas soothed. “It’s OK. It’s OK. I’m here now. I’m here.” He stroked Sarah’s hair with his pale fingers.
From where he was standing, Sean could see a sliver of Sarah’s face. To his horror, he watched her expression change from stricken to dazed in the space of a few seconds.
She allowed Nicholas to take the photo album from her, allowed him to lead her upstairs, murmuring in her ear, as Sean and Elodie watched, stunned.
“Everything will be alright,” he was saying. “I’m here.”
They heard Sarah’s bedroom door close and Elodie turned and walked slowly towards the kitchen. But Sean stood as if immobilised. Sarah had told Nicholas that Juliet had been killed. And Nicholas didn’t seem surprised. He didn’t seem surprised at all.
*
Nicholas and Sarah lay on her bed, entwined. Sarah had curled herself up in the nest of Nicholas’s body. She felt warm and safe, and had no desire to move. She was sure that if she moved just an inch away from him,