I handed Kayla her phone, and slumped onto the bottom stair. What was I to do? For the first time that I could remember, I had no plan - I couldn't see a way forward. I couldn't see what to do. Pushing the mobile back into her pocket, Kayla came to sit next to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Kiera," she whispered.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," I told her.

"I'm sorry for your friend."

"Me too."

"How about a nice cup of tea?" Mrs. Payne chipped in.

Glancing up at her, I could see that she felt as dumbfounded as we al did. I don't think any of us knew what to do or say after hearing Sparky scream like that. I guess we al felt helpless.

"A cuppa would be great," I smiled weakly at her.

"I'l be in the kitchen when you're ready," she said walking away, leaving Kayla and me on the stair alone.

"What's going on?" I said aloud, I don't know if I realy meant for Kayla to have al the answers.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

I looked at Kayla and wanted to tel her I'd been watching her last night with that man. I wanted her to know what I'd heard them discussing together. But I couldn't, because it might cause her to distrust me, to become more secretive than she already was. But worse than that, she might warn her secret friend - tel him not to come back and then I might never know his identity. But there was other stuff, too. I wanted to know if Kayla was as suspicious of Marshal and James as I was. She had told her friend last night that she didn't like Marshal and I couldn't disagree with her about that. The guy was a creep - perhaps he spied on her too?

The whole set-up at the manor was wrong. But was Kayla a part of it? Did she know more than she was letting on? I didn't know who to trust or believe anymore. I'd made that mistake before - I'd put my trust in my friend Sergeant Philips and it had nearly got me kiled. For now, I would have to keep my suspicions to myself and unravel what was realy going on at the manor in my own way.

"Do you know what?" I said, looking at Kayla.

"What?"

"Tel Mrs. Payne to put a hold on the tea, I'm going for a walk," I told her.

"Can I come?" she asked.

"I'm sorry Kayla, I just need some time on my own," I said heading for the door.

"Okay see you later aligator," she smiled at me.

Hearing those words, I froze. "What did you say?"

"I said, see you later, aligator," she said. "Is there a problem?"

"No. No problem," I half-smiled. "It's just that's the last thing I ever said to my mother before she disappeared." Then closing the door, I left the manor house.

It was cold, I tucked my hands into the pockets of my jeans and headed towards the tree line in the distance. I thought I would take the opportunity to go and have a look at the summerhouse in the daylight. It might give me a chance to clear my head and see what I could see there.

I folowed the route that Kayla had taken the night before. Again, it was dark beneath the trees, and the air felt clammy and damp. It was so quiet and stil that not even the branches or leaves stirred in the trees that towered above me. What was I to do about Sparky?

What had happened to him and to the others that I'd had contact with. Had they gone missing or had...? I couldn't bring myself to think of the other possibility, but Sparky's screams sounded like his last. Shuddering at the thought, my skin turned cold. Should I contact the Police and give them what little information I had? But what information did I have?

I suspected that it was Philips and Taylor who were behind what had happened to my friend and the others. But I was solely basing that on a series of nightmares that I'd had. Nightmares that I thought might perhaps be premonitions, but Sparky said that none of that other stuff had happened. Vampires hadn't gone berserk on the London Underground, feeding on everyone they came across. London didn't look like an apocalyptic wasteland with thousands of Vampyrus soaring through the sky and blocking out the sun. None of that had happened. But my flat had been turned over.

I dreamt about that and Philips had been responsible.

But what did that prove? My superiors already thought I was nuts - they'd cart me straight off to the loony bin if I bowled straight into the nearest police station and started teling them about my nightmares. And besides, Sparky said that my coleagues suspected me of being involved with the disappearances of those people and possibly murder. If I showed my face at any police station I was bound to be arrested. What good would that do? No - I had more chance of finding out the truth of what was going on from the manor, not from a prison cel.

I knew that Luke, Potter, and Murphy had connections to the manor. Kayla had told me that her father had sent them in search of her when she'd gone missing in the past. Her father had known them.

Perhaps that was what Lady Hunt was realy doing - looking for the three of them? After al, she said that she already had enlisted help in search of her missing husband. Perhaps it was they who were helping her, and if so she might wel return with them. The thought of seeing Luke again after al this time made my stomach flutter with anticipation and nerves. Would he feel the same way about me? Would my feelings be the same for him? There had definitely been a connection between us - but had those feelings been real? Had we not just been thrown together by circumstance? I knew deep down that I stil had feelings for him - but what, I wasn't sure. I guessed I wouldn't realy know until I saw him again and fel under his spel.

Reaching the clearing, I stepped out onto the grass and headed towards the summerhouse. In the light of the silver sun that hung above, it stil looked magical.

The smal structure was white in colour and looked like somewhere a princess would live in a Disney film.

Climbing the steps, I crossed the tiny porch to the door.

Taking hold of the brass door handle and twisting it, I wasn't surprised to find it locked. Cupping my hands against the window, I peered inside. Just like it had been the night before, the room was in semi-darkness.

The smal wooden table sat in the centre of the room with two chairs placed on either side. The lamp was on the table. But then I noticed something I hadn't seen as I'd peered through the window the previous night. I wouldn't have because it was directly above the window I'd been peeking through. On the wal, just above the window, was the faded outline of where a crucifix had once been. It had left a mark against the wal similar to that when taking a painting down from where it had previously hung for many years. A clean patch had been left on the wal in the shape of a cross.

But why had it been removed and by who?

I could see that it had only been taken down recently by the light colour of the wood left behind.

Stepping away from the window, I made my way back down the steps and headed around the rear of the summerhouse. Leaning against the wal were three large cans and a pair of stepladders. Lifting one of the cans off the grass, I puled open the lid with my fingernails.

Looking inside I could see the traces of white paint in the bottom. Tucked behind the empty cans of paint, I found a large brush, its bristles stiff with dried paint.

Guessing that Marshal had probably recently given the summerhouse a new coat of paint, I placed the cans back where I'd found them and made my way back around the front of the summerhouse. Standing with my back to it, I looked left, then right. Heading right, I made my way from the summerhouse and headed in the direction that I'd seen Kayla's friend take the night before.

I made my way through the trees, leaving the summerhouse behind me. I'd been careful to enter the woods at the exact same point that I'd seen the male disappear the night before. Hunkering down, I scanned the ground for any tracks that he might have left behind.

To my surprise I found several, and al of them different.

I identified Kayla's friend's prints straightaway. It was easy to do so as it was only his that had ever ventured out from beneath the shadows of the trees, the other tracks stopped before leaving the clearing. Whoever these people were, on one occasion they had tiptoed away from the edge of the clearing and back into the dark. Then after inspecting the footprints left in the soil again, I slapped my forehead.

"How could you be so dumb, Kiera?" I whispered to myself. Whoever they'd been, they had run away - not tiptoed. The gap between each mark was too far apart for them to have been tiptoeing away. No, they had been running and fast, leaving only toe prints behind. But why? Who had they been running from?

Standing, I folowed their tracks through the maze of trees. Ahead I could hear the rippling sound of the moat and realised I was heading towards the wal that surrounded the manor. I continued to folow the footprints left behind by Kayla's secret friend and whoever the other happened to be until they came to an abrupt end in front of a large bushy area that scaled the wal before me. Puling the branches aside, I lurched backwards at finding a black iron door set into the ground. The last time I'd seen anything like it had been the grate in the floor at the police station in The Ragged Cove.

"A hatch to the holows," I whispered, bending down to inspect it. There was a black metal ring pul and taking hold of it, I yanked as hard as I could. But like the summerhouse door, it was locked fast. Beneath the ring pul there was a lock.

"But where is the key?" I said, standing and brushing soil from the knees of my jeans. "And why are the Vampyrus coming in numbers from The Holows, going only as far as the tree line surrounding the summerhouse then running away again?"

Covering the door with the brambles and bushes, I wondered where I might find the keys to the summerhouse and the door leading below ground.

"The gatehouse!" I said aloud, and palm-slapped my forehead again.

But that creep Marshal might be there. I could ask him what he was doing on my balcony last night. What did I have to lose, I thought to myself, heading for the gatehouse.

I walked for about ten minutes or so, when I came across a circle of weeping wilows. Their branches hung so low that they made a curtain of leaves. Puling them apart, I stepped into the circle and gasped. Hidden behind the branches was a smal circular graveyard.

There must have been sixty or so gravestones. Closing the gap on the branches behind me, I stepped slowly between the graves, looking down at the inscriptions written upon them.

In loving memory of Joshua Edwards 1704 - 1716 There was another, and the inscription upon this headstone read: Karen Turner - Sadly missed 1833 - 1848 And another: Richard Baker Gone too soon 1927 - 1935 The dates on the graves spanned the centuries and the most recent I could find was dated from 2009. This one read: Our precious Lucy May your wings give you flight now 1996 - 2009 Standing in the centre of the tiny graveyard, gooseflesh ran up my back and the hairs at the nape of my neck stood on end. Although each of the gravestones and graves had been immaculately kept, and the whole setting hidden behind the branches of the weeping wilows was tranquil and serene, I couldn't help but feel spooked. It was the dates carved into the blocks of grey stone that upset me so much. Al of the people buried here hadn't lived passed the age of sixteen - they had al died as children.

Being careful not to stand on any of the graves that had been so tightly laid next to one another, I made my way out of the tiny surreal graveyard and back into the woods. Closing the branches over just how I'd found them, and my heart aching for al those poor children, I couldn't help but wonder why they had al died so young. And of what? Why be buried here, hidden away in the grounds of Halowed Manor?

With my heart feeling like a lump of stone in my chest, I made my way towards the gatehouse.