Bloodfrost

Bloodfrost by Deidre Dalton is Book #1 in the Bloodline Trilogy.

Noel Gatsby's dreams take her away from the misery of her pain-wracked, disease-riddled body. The dreams become real when she awakens one morning to find herself completely cured. However, she soon learns her miraculous recovery comes at a price.

From Chapter Thirteen

THE NIGHT BEFORE NOEL and Pim were scheduled to move into their new home, Judge Minot and Miriam spent a quiet evening at their townhouse on Louisburg Square. They ate a leisurely dinner of lamb chops with mint and bundled green beans, after which they retired to the judge's den with healthy snifters of brandy.

Miriam sat on the tan-colored leather sofa, using the remote control to turn on the television, settling in to watch a rerun episode of M*A*S*H. The judge sat behind the desk and buried his head in a copy of one of his favorite books, a collector's folio edition of Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift, occasionally surfacing to take a sip of brandy.

Being a long-married couple, Edward and Miriam Minot were comfortable with lengthy periods of silence. They knew each other's foibles and strong points, appreciating and respecting both. Miriam was his soul mate, pure and simple, and he was her knight in shining armor. Their love and affection went far beyond the physical, long ago transcending the lust and recklessness of youth.

After the television program ended, Miriam drained her snifter of brandy. She glanced toward her husband, who was still engrossed in his book. "Are you going to be long?" she asked.

His eyes rose over the rim of the book. "Probably another hour or so. Why? Are you going to bed?"

She nodded. "I'm tuckered out. Tomorrow is going to be a long day, so I want to get some rest."

"I'll join you shortly," he promised.

Miriam knew better. Once Edward became involved in reading he lost all track of time. She smiled tolerantly as she rose from the sofa. "Don't stay up too late, mind you."

He had already returned his focus to the book. "Yes darling," he replied absently, without looking up.

Their bedroom was on the second floor of the townhouse, which contained a small balcony overlooking the cobblestone sidewalk on Louisburg Square. It was a warm night, so Miriam opened the French doors to allow fresh air into the room.

Done in light cream and dark brown accents, similar to the entryway of the house, the bedroom was spacious with two walk-in closets, a sitting area, and a large bathroom which included a roman tub, wide shower, long double-sink counter and a mirrored dressing table.

Miriam changed into a white silk nightgown and robe, washing up before she left the bathroom. As she bent her head over the sink to splash water on her face, she suddenly felt light-headed. Placing her hands on the counter, she braced herself in hopes the dizziness would pass.

"Must be the brandy," she thought vaguely. "But I don't feel drunk."

She went into the bedroom, staggering slightly. She sat on the end of the bed, sinking gratefully into the mattress. For a few brief seconds she felt the dizziness subside, but then it came back stronger than before. She looked around the room, her gaze unfocused and her thoughts disorientated. Was she having a stroke? No, it couldn't be. She felt no pain anywhere on her body.

It was then she heard a small voice in the back of her mind, a surreal tiny croaking that reminded her of the munchkin-talk heard in The Wizard of Oz. Surely, she was hallucinating . . .

"Call me naughty Katie and see what it gets you . . ."

Miriam opened her mouth to scream, but she was unable to form a sound. She looked to the floor. She vaguely realized if she dropped to her knees and crawled, she could reach the second floor landing and call for Edward. But he wouldn't hear her, would he? She was mute, suddenly struck taciturn by the munchkin voice in her head.

"Call me naughty Katie and see what it gets you . . ."

She tried to get to her feet, pushing her hands into the bed to gain momentum. In slow motion - or so she thought - she came to a standing position, her legs wobbly underneath her. She took a few steps. She meant to head in the direction of the bedroom door, but her unwilling shuffle took her toward the open French doors and balcony instead.

"No," she thought in a panic. "I don't want to go there."

But she couldn't will herself to turn around. Her legs refused to obey, seeming to have a life of their own. Then the voice in her head became louder.

"Call me naughty Katie and see what it gets you . . ."

Before she knew it, Miriam found herself standing on the balcony. It was almost as if her free will was frozen - she desperately wanted to retreat, but her mind and limbs simply would not allow her to do so.

It was dark on the balcony, the light from gas street lamps appearing like little fireflies a million miles away. There weren't many people walking around this time of night, although Miriam saw a man walking his dog as he went along Louisburg Square toward Pinckney Street.

She shuffled to the edge of the balcony, grasping the iron rail. She wanted to cry out, to scream for help in the hopes someone might hear her, even the man walking his dog. Again, her mouth opened in grotesque anguish but no sound came forth.

"Call me naughty Katie and see what it gets you . . ."

Miriam leaned over the rail, looking down upon the dimly-lit cobblestone sidewalk below. She had the sudden urge to lie down, to curl up into a ball and go to sleep. Her arms and legs were weak, her entire body exhausted by the sheer effort to stand upright.

It would be so easy now. Just a few more steps and she could finally rest, and silence the mocking voice in her head.

"Call me naughty Katie and see what it gets you . . ."

ALVIN WAS ALONE IN his flat the night before Noel and Pim planned to move to their new house. He sat in his favorite recliner, drinking a cup of tea and reading his well-worn copy of To Your Scattered Bodies Go by Philip José Farmer.

He gave a big yawn around eleven o'clock, setting aside his book and rubbing his eyes. He should go to bed and rest for tomorrow, for what was sure to be a busy and exhausting day.

Alvin started to push himself from the recliner, but fell back when he suddenly grew dizzy. Closing his eyes, he tried to shake the feeling. He wasn't sick, just extra-tired after a long day. He also felt a slight headache coming on, unusual for him even when he did a lot of reading.

He opened his eyes and tried to get out of the recliner again. The dizziness became worse, causing him to rest his head against the back of the chair. What was the matter with him? He hadn't had a drop of alcohol, nor did any of his medications typically cause lightheadedness. Was it something he ate? No, a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup didn't fit the dizzy bill.

Suddenly, he felt as if a great deal of pressure was being applied to his brain. It was like someone was holding his head in a literal vice-grip. His thoughts became jumbled, nonsensical meanderings mixed with the sounds of a tiny voice. The voice was high-pitched, almost squeaky, making him wince in pain.

"Call me naughty Katie and see what it gets you . . ."

Alvin felt a shot of fear ripple through his body. Was he going crazy, hearing a voice in his head other than his own? And why on earth was the voice invoking Kate's name?

He finally managed to stand, his legs like rubber underneath him. He fully intended to go to his room and climb into bed, but his feet had other ideas. He shuffled along the floor, unwilling to say the least, as his legs took him in the direction of the living room window which overlooked Wren Street.

"Call me naughty Katie and see what it gets you . . ."

Alvin brought his hands up to his face, pushing at his temples. His thoughts ran wild. "Katie . . . Katie . . . Why Katie? Why are you doing this to me? Katie, is that you?"

He staggered forward, still holding his head. Moaning, he almost tripped and fell against the window but managed to steady himself in time. He stood, framed in the window, looking down upon Wren Street.

"Is this it for me?" he thought dumbly. "Am I going to die? Right here, right now, right on this spot?"

The voice in his head mocked him again.

"Call me naughty Katie and see what it gets you . . ."

"Shut up!" Alvin screamed, gripping his skull tighter. "Get out of my mind!"

He thought he heard a tiny giggle, but he wasn't sure. He looked around wildly, half expecting to see little Kate Grady standing in his apartment. But of course she wasn't there. He was hallucinating - or, worse yet, he was going stark, raving mad.

"Mother," he gasped out. "Can you hear me? June? Please help me. June, please help me." He gripped his head even tighter, hoping to drive the mocking voice from his mind.

Another moan escaped his lips as he closed his eyes, praying for God to save him. "Oh Lord, get me out of this and I'll be your obedient servant for life."

"Call me naughty Katie and see what it gets you . . ."

The faceless voice grew louder, as if deriding his holy pleas for help. It was then he knew he was lost. His savior had forsaken him in his hour of need.

Alvin Carter took one final step toward the window, his last thoughts pummeled by shattering glass.

KATE WAS EXTRA-LIVELY the night before the big move. She zipped through her parent's apartment with confidant speed and very few tumbles, her mobile skills seeming to grow better by the hour. She ran along the back of the couch, toward the kitchen and bedroom, and then back again. All the while, she gurgle-giggled and waved her hands in the air, as if she was running a marathon race in first place.

Pim pounded on the front door of the flat when he returned home from work. "I don't have a key anymore," he grumbled when June opened the door for him. "I took it off my key ring yesterday when I gave it to the landlord. How stupid is that?"

June laughed at him. "It's perfectly normal under the circumstances. It'll be the last time you'll be coming home to this place." She pushed the door to close it, wheeling away to follow Pim into the living room. The door failed to latch, but she didn't notice.

Pim picked up Kate, who was bubbly and excited to see her father. He kissed her on the cheek, bringing a big smile to her face.

"Noel is in the bedroom," June told him. "She's packing her last box."

Pim set his daughter on the floor. "Can you watch Kate just a few minutes longer? I'm dying to greet my wife in proper fashion after a long and tiring day at work."

"I'll be happy to."

After Pim disappeared into the bedroom, June maneuvered her wheelchair to the kitchen. She opened the small refrigerator to grab a can of soda, popping the cap to take a generous sip. Using one hand, she wheeled in the direction of the living room. She stopped short when she saw the front door wide open. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for Kate, but she was gone.

"Oh my God," June muttered, setting her soda can on the coffee table. She wheeled quickly to the front door, hoping to see Kate in the vestibule. Just as she cleared the door frame, she heard the muffled sound of breaking glass from outside. While never one to champion the dubious work of vandals, this time she hoped the noises came from neighborhood hooligans rather than her precious granddaughter in a pickle.

Still fearing the worst, June glided swiftly into the vestibule. At first, she couldn't see anything in the murky corridor. As her eyes adjusted, she spied Kate standing by the elevator, to the right of the old metal door that led to the upper floors of the apartment building, and down to the basement where the laundry room was located. The door was slightly ajar, which raised a surge of panic in June. The steep stairs leading to the basement were cold, hard and unforgiving. If Kate were to fall down the stairs, she could be seriously hurt or worse, killed.

"Kate!" June cried frantically. "Naughty, Katie. Come here at once!"

The child turned her head to look at June, her eyes round and sad. Her mouth dipped into a frown as she slid her finger between her gums, her lower lip quivering.

"Kate!" June repeated angrily. "Come here at once - now!" She patted her leg roughly, as if summoning a dog to her feet.

June heard the sound of the telephone ringing inside the apartment as she wheeled herself forward, bringing her closer to Kate by the elevator. The effort made her dizzy. She could feel the blood rushing to her head, which caused a light-headedness that was unusual for her.

"Kate," she gasped weakly, reaching out her hand. "Please come to granny."

But Kate didn't move. She continued to stare at June, her eyes wide and sad, one finger still pushed into her downturned mouth.

June paused, faintness overwhelming her. She lowered her head, hoping to stave off the debilitating waves of dizziness. She couldn't pass out now – not in her wheelchair, and not before she got Kate back inside the apartment safe and sound.

"Call me naughty Katie and see what it gets you . . ."

June's head snapped to attention, her shocked gaze going to Kate. Did her granddaughter just speak out loud? No, it was impossible. The little voice in her head couldn't be Kate. The munchkin-like tone was surreal - a phenomenal deed even the above-average Kate Grady would be unable to articulate.

"Mother? Kate?" She heard Noel calling for them from inside the apartment. "Where are you?"

June's eyes misted over. At that moment she felt utterly alone. Unfathomably instinctive, she knew she didn't have much time left in the world. "I never got to tell Noel how much I love her, or how proud of her I am." She looked to Kate again, who stood stock-still by the elevator, watching quietly, with her finger in her mouth.

"Call me naughty Katie and see what it gets you . . ."

WHEN THE TELEPHONE RANG, both Noel and Pim came out of their bedroom. Noel never expected to see the front door wide open, or to find her mother and daughter missing at the same time.

Noel raced for the door, a sick feeling of dread gnawing at the pit of her stomach. She reached the vestibule with lightning speed, Pim fast on her heels, pausing as she looked for signs of her baby.

She saw Kate sitting on the floor in front of the elevator. She had her finger in her mouth, her lips twisted into a lopsided grin, as if she was clenching her jaw. Her eyes were open and wide, not in fear or frustration, but rather in child-like, astonished awe. She was making her gurgly-giggle noises, but they were quiet and intermittent, almost forced.

"What the hell is going on?" Pim ground out furiously, although relief was evident in his tone when he saw Kate by the elevator. "What's Kate doing out here? And where is your mother?"

Noel's eyes darted to the open metal door leading to the basement and upper levels of the building. "Mother?" Noel called out, panic in her voice. "Mother?"

The vestibule was forbiddingly hushed, apart from Kate's sporadic gurgly-giggles. Outside, Noel and Pim could hear the approaching sounds of sirens - fire or ambulance, it was hard to tell - and the muffled voices of people on the street. Just then, the telephone began ringing in their apartment again.

It seemed like they had been standing in the vestibule for several minutes rather than a mere few seconds. In a flash, Noel scurried to her daughter while Pim headed for the open door to the basement.

Noel held Kate in her arms, inspecting her daughter for any signs of injury. She appeared to be without a scratch, happy now that Noel was holding her close. The smile returned to her face, the finger came out of her mouth, and her legs started kicking.

"Noel," Pim's voice was quietly urgent but grave as he returned to the vestibule through the metal door.

She looked at her husband. She saw the somber expression on his face and knew something was terribly wrong.

"What is it?" she thought fearfully.

"June . . . Your mother is in a heap at the bottom of the stairs in the basement."

Noel did not want to accept the finality in his mind transmission. "Then why aren't you helping her?"

"Her neck . . . I think her neck is broken. She's gone, Noel. I'm so very sorry." He came to her, putting his arm around her waist and peering into her face with concern.

Noel went numb. How could this be happening? Her mother was dead, just like that? Not even thirty minutes ago Noel had greeted June when she returned home from work, and now she was gone in an instant . . . just like that?

She held Kate to her tightly. "What in the hell happened?" she whispered out loud. "How could…"

"I'm guessing Kate got out of the flat somehow while we were in the bedroom," he responded in thought. "June must have gone after her. How she took a tumble down the stairs, I don't know."

"It's unreal, it can't be happening," Noel said aloud, a sob catching in her throat.

The telephone began ringing in their apartment again, the shrill sound echoing in the vestibule and mingling with Kate's gurgly-giggles, just as a uniformed police officer entered through the front door of the building.

"Sorry to bother you folks," he said politely. "But do either one of you know an elderly man by the name of Alvin Carter?"