I pushed the can towards him. “How are your cravings?” I asked him.
“Okay,” he said, pushing some peach into his mouth. “That Lot 13 Potter gave me back at the house has taken the edge off it. What about you?”
“I’m coping,” I lied, eyeing the tube of Lot 13 Potter had sent rolling down the table. “I don’t know if Potter was right.”
“About what?” Isidor asked me.
“That we’ll have to take Lot 13 for the rest of our lives,” I said.
“Well, he was right about one thing,” Isidor said.
“And what was that?” I asked him, curious.
“It does help if you’re angry,” he said looking at me. “It does help if you hate the ones who have hurt you.”
“How do you figure that out?” I asked, glancing back at Potter who sat some seats away with a cigarette dangling from his mouth.
“Because I’m not going to stop until I’ve taken Phillips’ heart out!” Isidor said.
I looked at him and it was as if he had lost that boyish look of his. He appeared older somehow, and in his once blue eyes, I could see pain. But it was more than that; it was like he had said – it was hate.
Feeling tired and wanting to be alone so I could think about everything I had learnt from Ravenwood’s letter, I left the others sitting in the dinning hall and went to look for somewhere to sleep for the night. My whole body ached with tiredness, and my head thumped with a dull thud.
I wandered along the empty walkways and corridors, and as I did, I had snapshot memories of the facility with its plain white walls and sterile floors. I came across a row of rooms and each one of the doors had a circular window set into them, just like the one from my dreams. I remembered again looking through the window as Isidor had stared in at me, his face haunted and scared looking.
“Kiera!” Isidor had screamed. ”Help me!” he had begged and banged weakly against the window. “We have to get out of here, Kiera!” and it was almost as if his screams were still echoing off the walls and down the corridors in the desolate facility.
Stopping in front of one of the doors, not knowing why I picked that particular one, I pushed it open and went inside. There was a bed set against the far wall and the blankets had been pulled back. There was an upturned chair and it made me think of Doctor Hunt sitting next to me as he read from those books. Righting the chair, I noticed something under the bed. I crouched and picked it up. I looked down at the book in my hands and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The book was ‘Peter Rabbit’. I thumbed through the pages and looked at the watercolour pictures of Mr. McGregor brandishing his rake as he chased Peter Rabbit across the allotment.
“Go on Peter, run!” I whispered aloud. “Don’t let him catch you!”
Closing the book, I placed it on the bed that I had once occupied. Knowing that I would be too uncomfortable ever sleeping in this room again, I closed the door behind me and looked for somewhere else to rest. I climbed down the stairs to another level and found myself in another passageway. Just like the others I’d searched, there were doors leading off of it. Pushing against one of them, it opened to reveal a narrow room with a small bed. There was no bedding, but there was a pillow. Stepping into the room, I closed the door behind me. Along the opposite wall sat two small lockers. One of the doors was ajar and I pulled it open. It was empty but attached to the inside of the door was a faded photograph of a young woman holding a smiling baby.
“Who’s that?” I asked aloud.
“What does it say on the front of the locker?” someone asked. I looked up to see Potter standing in the doorway.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him, startled by his sudden appearance. I felt a little angry that he was here when I just wanted to be alone, but another part of me was glad, too. I swung the locker door closed and read the name that had been stencilled across its front. It read: Coanda
I recognised the name as being the person who Ravenwood said I should seek out in The Hollows. I said to Potter, “Who is Coanda?”
“The person who used to own that locker, I guess,” he said. “Why, is there a problem?”
Still not ready to discuss what I’d read in that message from Ravenwood, I shrugged and said, “No, there isn’t a problem.”
Closing the door behind him, Potter came towards me. “I think there is a problem,” he said.
“What makes you think that?” I asked, looking away.
Taking my chin in his hand, he gently turned my face back towards him. “Please, Kiera, talk to me.”
“Why, so you can turn it into some kind of joke?” I snapped at him.
“That’s not fair,” he said, taking his hand away from my face. “You’ve changed.”“I’ve changed?” I scoffed. “What about you?”
“What about me?” he said, lighting a cigarette.
“You’re always so freaking cranky,” I said.
“Is that it? And I thought you were being a stroppy-cow because you were struggling with how you felt about me,” he smiled.
Dropping onto the bed, I said, “See, that’s exactly what I mean! You never take anything seriously unless it involves smashing a door down, tearing up some vampires, or kicking some werewolf’s arse.”
“I take a lot of things seriously, Kiera,” he said, and his smile had faded. “Just because I don’t go around all day long weeping and wailing, it doesn’t mean I don’t care.”
“Look at the way you were with Kayla back at the police station,” I reminded him. “There was no need for that.”
“Listen, sweet-cheeks, just in case you haven’t noticed, we’re in serious fucking trouble here,” he snapped, blowing smoke through his nose. “You’re not doing that girl any favours by being soft with her. This ride we’re on is going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better! If she doesn’t toughen up, she’s gonna get herself killed, or worse.”
“What could be worse than that?” I said.
“Getting you killed,” he shouted back at me.
“I can look after myself,” I yelled back.
“Not while you’re watching her back,” he said, his voice lowering but still remaining firm. “And then there’s Isidor.”
“So you do know his name then?” I bitched.
“I know his name but I’m not prepared to see it etched on a gravestone. Because believe me, Kiera, that’s exactly what’s going to happen if someone doesn’t have the bollocks to take his head out of his arse. Jesus, that boy wanders around in a trance most days. So he’s good with his crossbow, but that ain’t gone help him against what’s coming. That boy needs to man-up, because I’m not going to sit back and watch him get himself killed, or anyone else for that matter.”
“So you do have feelings?” I snipped at him.
“Feelings!” Potter almost roared at me. “You have no idea about how I really feel!”
“So tell me!” I shouted at him.
“I love you!” he bellowed at me and his eyes turned black. “Happy now? I love you, okay? I love you so fucking much that it hurts! It’s driving me insane! I loved you from the moment I saw you doing your Miss Marple impression in those woods back at The Ragged Cove. But I could tell you were sweet on Luke and hey, why not? He’s the good-looking one, right? I mean, I’m just the hired muscle. I’m the one who gets everyone else out of the shit. But I couldn’t help my feelings, I’d never felt like that before. So yeah, okay I stole a kiss from you in the gatehouse – big fucking deal! But you know what? That was the biggest mistake of my life, because that one kiss from you drove me out of my tiny freaking mind! So, I’m sorry if I give the boy a hard time and ain’t too gentle with the girl, but I’m not going to sit back and watch you risk your life just so you can blow their noses and wipe their arses!”
I looked at Potter and he seemed almost out of breath after his rant. Once he had finished, he put out his cigarette and lit another one. Standing, I looked at him and said, “Potter, I had no idea…”
“Ah, forget it,” he said, waving me away with his hand. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Besides, I’ll be moving out at first light in search of Luke. Once I’ve rescued him, I’ll bring him to you in The Hollows and you won’t have to see me again.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, my heart skipping a beat at the thought of him leaving.
“I don’t want to get in the way of you and Luke,” he said. “I know how you feel about him.”
“Luke’s my friend…” I started.
“And Murphy was mine, but you didn’t catch us swimming nude together in a lake!” he snapped.
“You know about that?” I gasped.
“Yeah, but don’t go getting your posh French knickers in a twist. I wasn’t spying on you, I was looking for stuff to make a fire with in the overhang,” he said.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” I asked, still reeling from his outburst.
“What, so you would think I was some kind of pervert who went spying on -” he started.
“No, not that!” I cut over him. “Why didn’t you say how you felt about me?”
“Did I really need to say anything, Kiera?” he said, taking a puff on his cigarette. “For someone who’s meant to see stuff – you see diddly-shit. How many times have I saved Isidor’s bacon because you asked me to? You know I might like a good scrap but Kamikaze missions aren’t my idea of fun. How many times have I got you out of the shit? Christ, I stood on the bonnet of a speeding car while homicidal vampire-cops sprayed me with their machine guns! How much more have I got to do before you’ll see how much I love you? I thought getting your car out of the snow back in The Ragged Cove would have done the trick – but you’re obviously a hard nut to crack!”