December 4th

The next morning I woke to the sound of the howling outside.

Overnight the frozen forest had turned into a snarling animal, enclosing the town in a cage of furious wind. Rain lashed against my window in surges; the frame rattled angrily. I groaned.

I hated bad weather.

Then I realised it was not just the gales that had woken me up.

“LEVENTRI, YOU BASTARD.”

The yelling was really quite loud, considering it was travelling through three doors and a floor.

“GET DOWN HERE.”

Surely that wasn’t my mother.

Irritably I pulled on a pair of trousers and rubbed my eyes. I thought I knew who it was, who it sounded like, and I wondered what he wanted.

Actually, I knew what he wanted.

But I didn’t really care.

As I hobbled down the stairs, I ran a hand through my hair and caught sight of the man who had come to talk to me.

He was standing in the doorway, somehow had got the door open and hadn’t bothered to close it behind him or take another step into my house. A small man with tight, thin features, it was always surprising how he could evoke such a frightening anger in his pale eyes.

Thankfully, he stopped shouting, but the emotion did not leave his voice.

“Ivonov.” he nodded coldly, but it wasn’t a nod of recognition, it was a nod that said you are in massive trouble, you little git.

I decided to play it cool, so I nodded back at him. “Djuric.” If he was going to use my last name, I’d use his.

“I saw your meeting yesterday,” the man snapped, his eyes icy.

“So?” I replied defiantly.

“I haven’t heard from you.” he glared at me.

I glared back, fire growing in my throat. “I told you I never wanted to talk to you again-“

The man’s attitude changed from infuriated to sly smugness. “Surely you’re not serious?” he drawled. “You need me.”

I was suddenly very cold; then noticed I still didn’t have a shirt on.

“No, I don’t. I don’t want anything to do with you anymore,” I said through gritted teeth.

He raised a thin dark eyebrow. “You’re sure? It will not be my fault if it happens.”

“If what happens?” I spat nastily at him. It wasn’t even a question, more like a taunt. I knew what would happen.

There was a long silence.

“I suppose the reason you don’t want my help anymore is because of your so called friends?” Djuric snarled, suddenly angry. “Are you so sure of their loyalty?”

“Yes.” the fire in my throat burned, forcing its way up.

“I wouldn’t be, if I were you. If you can’t be sure of yours, you cannot be sure of theirs.” he said darkly, and gave me one last seething look before sweeping out the doorway.

I breathed.

For a few moments my feet were rooted to the floor as the fire died in my throat. The cold returned.

“Who was that?” a voice asked softly from behind me.

I turned round. My mother was stood at the top of the stairs, clutching her night robes with a worried expression on her delicate features.

“It was Djuric,” I said carefully.

“I thought you said he’d left the country to find better work,” my mother’s brow creased and my heart clenched.

“Well he came back, just to check how we were.” I tried to meet her confused gaze with strong eyes.

“I heard raised voices. Abigail woke up.”

She looked so fragile there, standing weakly with her hands limply clutching at the cotton, sunken eyes. I hadn’t looked properly at my mother for a while, and what I saw scared me.

“No, everything is fine. He was a little angry about something else, that’s all. Go back to bed,” I suggested gently.

With a dazed nod, she turned around and shuffled back into the shadows.

I shivered and my insides squirmed guiltily as a sudden wind blew the door. It slammed shut with a resounding clunk.

This was not over yet, I feared.