Innocently Evil (A Kitty Bloom Novel) (3 page)

A quick glance around proved that I was right about us being
the only ones stupid enough to be moving to Saint Jean and that there was not going to be anyone to offer us a hand. The bus beside us rumbled and pulled out of its park, and then headed further up into the mountains. Now all alone, the two of us looked around sheepishly not sure what to do. By the look on Mum’s face I could tell that she was wishing for a baggage trolley, like the ones at the airport, or possibly a forklift to somehow magically appear. Anything that would make the number of trips up the hill a little fewer would have been good enough for me.

But, before we were given the chance to show how resourceful we were in a time of need, the sound of a nearing motorcycle dragged my eyes back down to the road winding up the hill towards us. Mum took a step closer to me and I could tell that she was following my gaze. I mentally crossed my fingers and hoped that this was going to be someone heading in our direction. A sleek, jet black bike appeared from around the corner and headed straight towards us. At the last moment the driver turned the front wheel and began the steep ascent to Saint Jean. My hope for help sunk deep into my stomach as I
realized that we were
really
going to have to carry everything by ourselves.

“Okay, that’s that then,”
said Mum. “Looks like you’ll have to wait here and protect everything while I go and try to find some cavalry.”

I nodded as she slung a bag over her shoulder and bent down to pick up a box. Then
, I heard another motor. Not a bike this time but a car. I looked towards the noise, at the road leading to Saint Jean. A pickup truck? The blue vehicle came grumbling down the hill, sounding very cantankerous about being used at all, and pulled to an abrupt stop in front of us.

“Looks like we might have
found some cavalry after all,” muttered Mum.

Out of the driver’s side stepped a tall, perfectly muscled, golden-haired
angel of a man. He turned to face us with the most boyishly-beautiful looking face and smiled. “Need some help,” he asked in a deep voice hinted slightly with an English accent. 

“Oh, just a little,” M
um flirted.

He closed the truck’s door an
d started walking over to us. I noticed that he was wearing blue jeans, a black leather jacket and black boots. The same outfit I’d seen on the motorcyclist.

“
Trading down I see. Does your bike know about the two of you,” I said, pointing to him and the truck.

He gave me a lopsided smile, which only enhanced his baby boy features and ran his fingers through his thick, shaggy fringe.
“Ah, you’ve caught me,” he said. “No, she doesn’t know. This is my friend’s truck and I’ve only been with her for oh—say, a few minutes.”

“Right,”
I said in an understanding tone. “A fling, then. I promise I won’t tell.”

He laughed and shook his head at me, then stuck out a hand.
“My name’s Samuel Winter. But, please call me Sam. I only just moved here last week, so if you need help with anything just ask.”

I smiled, shook his hand and looked up into his eyes. They were such an unusual
color it surprised me. They looked almost like violet.

“And this,” began my mum, taking my pause for awe as another, naughtier kind of pause for awe, “is my daughter Kitten.”

“Kitty,” I corrected her as I let go of Sam’s hand.

“And my name is Angelica Bloom,” said
Mum, shaking his hand in turn. “So, what brought you to the artist community of Saint Jean, Sam? Passion or pleasure?”

“Well, Angelica, I think I’d have to answer, both.”
Sam finished his answer looking at me.

I couldn’t help but feel a little awkward, almost paranoid
, that everything lately seemed to have a hidden double meaning that I should understand. I felt like I was supposed to fill the silence with an acknowledging answer. But what, I didn’t know.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take the suspense of the silence anymore, Sam turned back to my mum and continued the conversation.
“I’m a musician,” said Sam. “Although not a very good one I’ll admit. I play the Spanish guitar and I’ve been trying to find a safe place to practice and try to create a few new songs. Unfortunately, I haven’t had much luck so far. I just haven’t found the right muse.”

There it was
again. He looked at me. I was beginning to hate the existence of double meanings. Especially in instances where I just didn’t get them.

“So
, anyway,” I said, deciding to take control of the conversation again, “as you can see, Sam, we need a little help getting to Saint Jean before nightfall and as you mentioned before, you were happy to give us a hand. Is that little offer still good or are we going to have to wrestle you for your keys?”

“Kitty,” Mum said,
probably a little outraged at me for talking like that to a stranger.

Sam laughed again and then seemed to pause to consider his options.
“Well,” he said slowly, “although it would be quite an experience to be wrestled by two beautiful women, I think I’m still going to hand the keys over without a fight.”

“Good choice,” Mum said.
“Bloom women always get what they want.”

One by one, we each grabbed a bag or a box and began loading up the back of the old pick-up truck. The sun soon disappeared behind the mountains behind us and the
car park, the valley below us and Saint Jean all fell into the cold shadows of twilight. Before long the entire back tray and the front seat excluding the driver’s seat was full. I didn’t remember having that much stuff and neither did Mum.

“Well, at least we managed to get everything in,” said Mum, as all three of us looked over at the truck filled full to bursting.

“Yeah, except ourselves,” I said, unhappily.

“I was thinking,” said Sam. “A
ssuming Kitty doesn’t mind and that you drive a stick, Angelica, I’d be happy to walk with Kitty while you take the truck.”

“That’s very kind of you, Sam,” said Mum, obvious
ly answering for the both of us. “I’d feel much better taking the truck and Kitty’s clearly a lot safer with you than with me in the dark.”

“Thanks
, Mum,” I said sarcastically under my breath.

Ignoring my annoyance at how easy it was for her to leave me all alone, in the dark with a stranger, Mum snatched the keys out of Sam’s hand and popped into the driver’s seat.
“Thanks again, Sam. I’ll see you both at the top,” she said, then put the key in the ignition.

The old truck
roared furiously to life and made a few loud, unhealthy groans before it let Mum turn it around and drive it back up the hill.

“
You’ve got to love my mother,” I mumbled and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Especially when she leaves you on your birthday,” said Sam.

I turned and glared at him. “How do you know it’s my birthday,” I asked, a little surprised and suspicious.

Sam smiled awkwardly at me and stepped closer.

I hugged my black leather jacket closer to me and stepped back. “Don’t play with me, Sam. I’ve had an odd day today and I’d really appreciate a straight answer.”

“I guess you wouldn’t b
elieve me if I said that your mum told me,” he said, giving me an almost hopeful smile.

I shook my head.

Sam looked out into the coming darkness, at all the deep shadows swallowing up the valley below us and ran his fingers through his gorgeous, golden hair. “There’s something you need to know, Kitty,” he began. “I’m pretty sure you won’t take it well, any of it, and that you won’t understand it until something goes wrong. But, now that you’re eighteen you’re no longer immune and they—everyone knows that. Why your mum dragged you here of all places I’m still trying to find out. But, it can’t be good. That’s why I’m here with you this time. It’s time I actually start playing a proper role in your life. You need protecting, Kitty, and that’s why I’m here.”

I must have stood looking at Sam in total
confusion for much longer than he’d expected, because it wasn’t long before he started trying to explain things again from another angle.

“Okay,” Sam said, beginning t
o pace the space in front of me. “Where can I start?” He stopped suddenly and walked closer to me again. “That guy,” he said. “The one on the train. Ah, Max something or other.”

“
Tiennan,” I answered. “How did you know about him being on the train?”

“Yes,
Tiennan,” he said, totally ignoring my last question. “His family have been the patrons of Saint Jean for many generations. The strange thing is that for the past three hundred years the same patron has been running the community. Max’s father. Do you understand all that?” Sam looked at me sympathetically as I tried to take it in and waited for my answer.

I had no idea how Sam could have known that I’d met Max on the train. It all seemed a little odd to me, and I was beginning to wonder whether I should trust him. Then again, the thought of Max’s father running Saint Jean for three hundred years was
definitely up there on the odd scale. Maybe it was Max who was the odd one, the one I couldn’t trust.

I shook my head and
looked around out into the darkness as I tried to comprehend what Sam was saying. “I think so,” I said finally.

              Suddenly, something dark caught my eye as it moved down the hill behind us and then disappeared into the forest. I tried hard to brush off the eerie feeling of being watched, but couldn’t.

Sam must have seen
the shape, too, because he grabbed my arm and started dragging me up the hill towards Saint Jean. “I’m so stupid for bringing this topic up here,” Sam said under his breath, while he continued to search the darkness around us as we walked. “I know better than that.”

Feeling very much
like a damsel in distress, I couldn’t help but wonder what I’d gotten myself into. Or maybe what my mum had gotten me into. I felt overwhelmingly out of the loop and I really didn’t like it. If my safety was about to be jeopardized tonight I damn well wanted to be aware of it. And now I just had to wonder why my mother was so keen to up and leave us as soon as it started to get dark. Did she know something that I didn’t?

“Sam,” I said, trying t
o pull my hand out of his grasp. “Please tell me what’s going on? Are we—in danger?”

“Please not now, Kitty,” he said, grabbing my h
and tighter with his other hand. “Right now we have to run. When we get inside the city gates I’ll tell you, but out here anything’s fair game, even if you do have Max’s tag of ownership around your neck.” He looked down at the pendant that I had entirely forgotten I was wearing and then pulled me faster.

Thoughts were racing through my head faster than we were running as I tried to fit everything I knew together. The one thing that bothered me more than anything was the pendant. I’d completely forgotten it and my mum had never
even asked about it. And what had Sam meant by ‘tag of ownership’?

I’d just about decided
to rip the chain from my neck when we finally entered the city gates of Saint Jean. I was surprised that Sam was willing to stop just inside the gates even though they weren’t closed and he didn’t even make a move to close them.

“Don’t we want to close the gates,” I asked Sam.
But, he didn’t answer me.

He was facing back out at the roa
d looking into the darkness as though he could see what was really out there. Now that we were inside the city gates, I felt a little silly. I’d never been afraid of the dark before, never jumped at my own shadow, so it was odd to me to be running from something I’d loved all my life.

I was feeling really embarrassed
and annoyed with myself when Sam finally answered me. “They’re gone,” he said. “They can’t come inside the gates unless they want to risk the penalty. This isn’t their land and they have no claim to anything or anyone on it. I guess that’s the one good thing about Max and his father, they’re very possessive of their pets.”

“Pets,” I a
sked. “Okay, you need to fill me in right now. I’m not letting you go anywhere until you do. I’ve never had to run away from anything in my life, so this is all new to me. What’s going on?”

A noise drew my attention to a partially lit alleyway where a po
rtly old man was walking. He nodded his head to us in greeting. The dim streetlights turned his eyes a glowing red and then, with a smile, he turned to a small blue door at the side of the alley, opened it and slipped inside. Once the door was closed, Sam grabbed my arm again and started dragging me off in another direction.

“Where are we going,” I asked, no longer bother
ed with escaping him, now just wanting answers. “What happened to you filling me in? I thought you were a nice man who was trying to help me. But, now I’m starting to wonder if maybe you’re the bad guy and Max’s the nice one.”

At that Sam frowned at me, clearly not impressed by my comment, and pushed me forward. He physically pushed me up three stone stairs before he gave up, picked me up in a fireman’s carry and took me up the stairs himself.