Chapter 14
NATE
Ido not sleep in Sera’s chambers.
There is a shift in her after the feeding — a distance that she is trying to force between us. It is futile with the depths of the emotions we feel, but if she needs to block me out to survive what is to come, then so be it.
We may not live beyond tonight, anyway, if Valeria does not keep her word.
We make the journey to court in silence. My stomach is lined with dread — a feeling that intensifies when we reach the underground amphitheatre in the heart of the city.
The Court rule from a network of rooms in the mineral-thick chambers. It has been built deep into the Roman ruins that lie dormant under the city’s streets and fashioned after their grand gladiator arenas. There are seats for all the noble vampire families, and in the middle of the pit are the thirteen matriarchs of the Court, sitting on their thrones like queens of the underworld. Power glitters in their eyes — the savageness and brutality rolling off them in waves.
They are striking. Impressive.
But there is no mistaking just how deadly they are, too.
Sera’s arm rests on mine as we file in behind Elizabeth and Rafe. Charlotte and Agnes are at our backs, pressed together like two debutantes on a promenade.
Juliette strides ahead of us, Charles at her heels, until he is left to sit with us whilst she takes her position in front of Valeria. The remaining heirs follow Juliette’s example of joining their matriarchs, highlighting them as women of influence — those for whom the eligible nobles will want to impress and flatter.
“There are hundreds of them,” Sera whispers, looking around at the vampires that flank us on all sides. I can feel her heart thrumming in her chest, pulsing under her skin. I can see it too thanks to the neckline of the gown that ensures her breasts are heaving close to her throat. “Perhaps I should have stayed at home and practiced my magic with Mrs Hawley.”
Sera is achingly beautiful, but it is not her looks that are attracting every eye in the room.
They can smell her blood.
There are some families who recognise Sera and the other pledges from my cousin’s fateful ball at Nighthaven, but to the rest, the four of them are the very definition of fresh meat. And everyone wants a taste.
“It is better you are by my side.” I mutter. “Here, I can tear anyone apart who so much as breathes too close to you.” I lower my voice, pressing my lips to her ear. “When you are a novelty such as you are, there will be all number of creatures watching your every move.” I glare over at a weasel-faced vampire from House Keller that has not stopped gawking at Sera from the moment we walked into the council chambers. When he sees my snarl, he has the good sense to look away.
“If you will all take your seats, court is now in session.” It is Genevieve Rassard that speaks — the vampire sitting at the centre of the curved line of matriarchs. She is Head of the Court — a position afforded to her by her advanced years and the power that comes simply from outliving other vampires for centuries on end.
She is more ancient still than Valeria, although they do not look dissimilar in age. But where Valeria is stark with her pale complexion, jet black hair, and crimson gown, Genevieve’s deep brown skin and chestnut curls are warmed by her house colours of gold and midnight blue. She is striking in an altogether more terrifying way than Valeria. She is the ultimate authority who has no need for chilling smiles.
When she speaks, there is a murmur of acknowledgement and the faint ruffle of skirts, before the room quickly falls to silence.
Of all the vampires who have sat on the Court for centuries, the Rassards are one of the few who have never been displaced. They are a founding family, and as such, whatever Genevieve says, goes. Her main role is one of keeping proceedings in order — a not insignificant task when faced with hundreds of hungry vampires this evening.
“It has been twenty long years since we have all been gathered together under this roof. It has been a great sacrifice for us all, but one that has kept us safe and ensured our survival into the next century. Now, we are united once more. And we have much to celebrate.”
As she speaks, I look down the line of matriarchs that fan from each side of her. They are in order of age and importance — Genevieve flanked by Milena Azarov to her left, and Valeria to her right. At one far end sits Bianca Vespucci — the newest and youngest matriarch to serve on the Court. Enzo’s sister. The rising star, but the one with the most to lose.
“The upcoming tournament will see the true beginning of our great Season,” Genevieve continues. “It will dictate the Court’s members and ensure the longevity of our bloodlines with marriages and sirings.” Her voice fills the space, echoing off the walls. “First, we turn to matters that require a verdict from this court.”
I straighten up, bracing to be summoned to the floor, and explain my actions on the night of the hunt. My jaw tics.
Valeria may have made her assurances, but I do not relish the prospect of being forced to lie to thirteen ancient creatures who can read secrets as easily as the humans consult Society scandal sheets.
“Peregrine Byatt, step forward.”
A huddle seated several rows behind us shifts in their seats, making way for the vampire to descend. All that are gathered here are from noble houses, but the Byatts are not one of the thirteen primary families who are given the titles and properties of aristocracy. And if Genevieve’s expression is anything to go by, they never will be.
“Mr Byatt, you stand accused of siring another vampire without authorisation from this Court — an act that was performed outside of the sanctity of your union and by you alone, thus creating a new low-ranking vampire that would be banished from our noble society.” She looks down at him, quiet fury simmering in her eyes. “How do you plead?”
“I am guilty of such a crime, Lady Rassard. It was unintended. I took too much and sought to redress the balance by feeding the human my blood. I did not know that the veil was upon them?—”
Genevieve holds her hand up to silence him. “The circumstances are unimportant. It is against our laws to single-sire a vampire. And at your grand age, I would expect you to moderate your appetites with more success.”
He looks up at her. “My lady, we have been prevented from drinking from humans for the past twenty years. Any restraint I once had will take time to refine. Not all Houses have been so lucky as to have pledges with whom we can satiate our Season’s appetites.”
Rafe, sitting on the other side of Elizabeth, folds his arms across his enormous chest and raises an eyebrow. “This is the start of it, I suppose,” he mutters to me over Elizabeth and Sera’s heads. “Every possible gibe thrown our way because we were the first to take pledges.”
I grunt in agreement. This is what concerned Juliette.
“Your peers have managed to show restraint, Mr Byatt. And if your appetites are of such a concern, then that will make the decision all the easier for this court.” Genevieve inclines her head to the twelve other matriarchs. “I do not propose there is any fit punishment other than Mr Byatt’s execution.”
At this, there is a low rumble of horror through the chamber.
Single-siring is a crime that has oft been punished with the removal of properties or privileges. It sees families disgraced, and the newly sired gutterfang banished to London. There hasn’t been an execution in centuries. Not since my wife was destroyed at their hand and my punishment was to live for eternity with what I had done.
“We shall put it to a vote,” Genevieve continues. “If there are any objections amongst the matriarchs of this court, please make them known now.”
There is silence from the twelve that sits alongside her. But then, a voice from somewhere else.
“Has the law changed, Lady Rassard, without all families being informed? To suggest an execution for Mr Byatt is not in line with previous punishments for crimes of the same nature.”
“Who am I speaking to?” Genevieve’s eyes are fixed on the disruption.
I can barely see the vampire over the heads of the others. She is standing, but she is small in stature — unusual, as the nobility ordinarily chooses only the strongest, most regal looking humans to join our ranks.
“Caroline Vossler, Lady Rassard.”
My eyebrows furrow and release. This is the creature Juliette agreed I should marry? The one I am supposed to charm and flatter? Valeria was right. She does not strike me as a vampire who would be seduced by Rafe’s ego.
She does not give Genevieve a chance to react before she presses on. “The punishment should be in accordance with the crime. It was unwise to sire another vampire, but it is surely worse to consider Mr Byatt’s execution when we face the threat of hunters decimating our ranks.”
“Christ,” Rafe mutters. “Your future wife certainly has a lot to say for herself.”
Sera tenses beside me.
“Miss Vossler, the aims of this court are to ensure the longevity of our kind. Single-sired vampires have no sense of moderation or discretion. They are a significant threat to that aim. Now, if you would please take your seat?—”
“The gutterfangs are being slaughtered in London, Lady Rassard. If you consider them such a threat, perhaps that explains why you have not acted to aid them.”
Genevieve’s voice lowers an octave. “You will take your seat, Miss Vossler. Or is there something you wish to accuse this court of?”
The silence that follows is suffocating. Sera’s fingers clutch my arm tighter.
If they will do this for siring another vampire, how will you avoid a death sentence? Your crime is surely greater in comparison.
Because Valeria holds influence. It is not in her interest for you or me to die.
My logic is sound, but I am all too aware of the number of tricks and plays Valeria is capable of. I will not fully believe we are to leave the chamber unscathed until we are back in the relative safety of the house on the crescent.
“Please forgive the interruption, Lady Rassard. I simply wanted to ensure that the decisions made by the Court are transparent, so we might all know where we stand.” Caroline takes her seat, sinking back into the swarm of vampires. There is a subtle change in their body language as they embrace her into the fold. Protecting her.
“How many of them are there?” Rafe leans past me to gawp at Caroline’s siblings.
“Too many. If they continue to sire like gutterfangs, they will never earn favour with the Court.”
Rafe chuckles under his breath. “And just think, brother. You have barely kept your head within our family. How will you fare with so many other vampires to clash with?”
Genevieve glares at Caroline, clearly seething, then snaps her head back to Peregrine. “What has become of the vampire you sired, Mr Byatt?”
Peregrine’s shoulders slump, and I see the resignation in his eyes. “Already dead, my lady. He took off into a neighbouring village and decimated a farmer’s livestock.”
“The farmer killed him?”
“No, my lady. I did it.”
“Can there not be mercy for him?” Sera whispers to me. “The newly sired vampire is dead?—”
“Mercy is not something the Court is known for,” I murmur back, my eyes fixed on Peregrine as he stands condemned. “To show leniency would be to invite chaos.”
“Very well. Let us hope there are no further repercussions as a result of your indiscretion.” Genevieve pauses, and the room holds its breath. “In light of what unfolded at the Blood Rose Ball of twenty years ago, we are now forced to take more drastic measures to protect our way of life. Peregrine Byatt, you are therefore sentenced to death for your crime. For the sake of efficiency, the execution will be carried out immediately.”
I expect Caroline to jump up again and protest, but the room sits in stunned silence.
It’s one thing to pass a sentence; it’s another to see it enacted so swiftly.
Two guards move forward out of the shadows, their faces emotionless, and position themselves on either side of Peregrine. They are gutterfangs — the single-sired vampires that the Court is so repulsed by. The irony can surely not be lost on them that they are only allowed in the room because they have a job to do.
“Any final words, Mr Byatt?”
Peregrine looks around the room, his gaze landing briefly on faces that offer him no comfort. His own family does not protest, such is the Court’s power. “I only wish I could have served our kind better.” His voice is steady. “I accept my fate.”
Genevieve nods. “Then let it be done.”
The guards move in unison, one holding Peregrine’s arms while the other produces a ceremonial sword. Its edge gleams in the flickering torchlight.
I feel Sera shudder beside me, her breath hitching as the blade is passed to Genevieve. The guards will not do it — it is an insult for a gutterfang to be the one to end the life of a noble. But it does not stay in her hands. She passes it in turn to the vampire sitting at her feet. Her daughter.
I place a reassuring hand over Sera’s, trying to steady her. It will be a brutal spectacle, but no more abhorrent than anything she saw at Nighthaven or in the woods.
Adelaide Rassard stands. She is perhaps the most formidable of the matriarchs in waiting, being older than the majority of the vampires in the room. She has waited a long time for her place at Court.
With a swift, practiced motion, she swings the blade and severs Peregrine’s head from his body. A collective shiver runs through the crowd, but no one speaks. The guards efficiently remove the body and the rolling head. A smear of blood across the floor is all that remains of the young lord’s indiscretions.
“He didn’t explode,” Sera mumbles.
“Staking is reserved for gutterfangs. It is why…” I fade off and Sera fills in the silence by speaking into my mind.
It is why everyone will be furious about Ambrose. He died like a gutterfang.
Exactly.
Genevieve’s voice resounds. “Let this serve as a reminder to all of you that our laws are absolute and our justice is swift. We will not hesitate to do whatever is necessary to protect our way of life.”
Sera’s fingers twitch under my palm.
“Now, we move on to the next matter.” Genevieve settles back in her chair. “Many of you will know that at the beginning of our Season, Houses Blackwood and Beaumont took six human pledges back to the Nighthaven Estate. This was a trial — to understand whether keeping humans for our Season would give us the discretion we need, along with the connections to human aristocracy. It seems that in the two weeks since the pledges were taken in Mayfair, much has unfolded at Nighthaven.” She looks over at Valeria. “Please describe the events to the Court and this assembly, Lady Blackwood.”
Valeria nods, then lets her eyes trail over the vampires in the arena; surveying them all, reading their secrets. She might not be as powerful as Genevieve or Milena, but she holds authority. No one dares cross her.
“Six pledges were taken from Mayfair, selected by my six grandchildren. There is sound reasoning behind the pledging — the humans provide a constant supply of blood to the vampires they serve. It is this continuity that ensures full strength can be maintained for the duration of the Season.”
Genevieve nods. “You are in favour of the scheme?”
Valeria smiles. “With the right leadership, I believe the pledging is the future for our society.”
“The right leadership?”
“As you know, Lady Rassard, I have been in Bath for many months, aiding the Court with the threats that we face on a daily basis. As such, I left my granddaughter, Lady Juliette, to oversee events at Nighthaven.”
What is she doing? Sera hisses.
My stomach sinks. I glance over at Rafe. He is grinding his teeth.
“And how many of your grandchildren are here this evening?”
“Four. Lord Ambrose was killed during a hunt on the estate and his brother fled the same night.”
There is a rumble around the room. Some have not heard of it, then.
“What of the pledges?”
“Two dead, Lady Rassard.”
“And what were the circumstances of their deaths?” She flicks her eyes from Valeria downwards. “Lady Juliette?”
Juliette stands. “A ball was hosted in honour of Lord Ambrose’s vampiric birth. Too much was taken from one of the pledges.”
Genevieve nods. “And the other?”
“Killed during the hunt by Lord Benjamin.”
“A hunt and a ball are ordinary occurrences, but it was unwise to allow them so early in the Season when we have been denied access to both events for two decades.” Genevieve’s eyes flicker. “There was another grave matter during the ball?”
“Yes, the death of Mr Gregor Vossler. We were infiltrated by hunters and he was poisoned.”
There is a collective gasp and a flurry of whispers. There are many vampires who saw it unfold firsthand, but there are those for whom it was little more than gossip until they had confirmation from Juliette.
“And you agree with your grandmother’s assessment that you were in charge at Nighthaven, Lady Juliette?”
“Yes.”
“And you allowed such events to unfold?”
“Yes.” Juliette holds Genevieve’s eye. “The ball and the hunt were both unwise. My cousins were not able to show restraint. I should have anticipated that things would go awry.”
“To allow a hunt when one pledge had already been lost was perhaps your gravest mistake.” Genevieve pauses, staring at Juliette. She does not reply, but lowers her head. “And the circumstances of Lord Ambrose’s death?”
“He had attacked his own pledge and was turning to that of my brother, Lord Nathaniel, to do the same. He was intent on the violation and murder of them both. Lord Nathaniel stepped in to prevent such crimes.”
Genevieve’s lip curls. “This Court will never endorse violent crimes against human pledges. It is the least we can offer when they give their blood to sustain us.” She pauses and glances up at me. “However, the murder of another vampire outside of an agreed duel or trial is a crime punishable by death.”
“Lord Nathaniel acted out of decency, Lady Rassard. Our cousin had already killed one pledge and was on the path to ending the lives of two more. If my brother had not stepped in?—”
“Then yes, it would have been a grave matter indeed. But the problem we are facing, Lady Juliette, is that you were well aware of your cousin’s predilections. He should have been reported to the Court, or sent from Nighthaven to protect the integrity of the pledging — not simply left to run amok. You failed in your duties to your House and your matriarch.”
When is Valeria going to step in? Sera’s voice is small and anxious.
“Under the usual circumstances, Lord Nathaniel would die for his crime. But it seems he was almost killed due to another oversight on your part.”
Juliette glances up at Genevieve, her forehead creased. “Lady Rassard?”
“Lord Nathaniel was attacked on the road to Bath. Hunters had clearly been watching Nighthaven after they infiltrated the ball. They were waiting on the exact route they knew you would take, armed with poison. Your brother is lucky to be alive. And once again, if you had had the foresight to consider such a thing, there might have been a very different outcome.”
No, that wasn’t Juliette’s fault?—
No. I agree, watching Juliette’s face fall. Whatever had been discussed with her and Valeria, this formed no part of it.
“The events of Nighthaven cannot go unpunished. Lady Juliette, you have shown grave errors of judgement as a future matriarch of House Blackwood. Two vampires and two humans have died under your watch, and the lives of the rest were put in grave danger during your journey to Bath. Your actions have risked the integrity of the pledging and the lives of dozens of vampires who gathered at Nighthaven at your invitation.”
What are they going to do to her?
They won’t do anything. I say, the realisation hitting me square in the chest. Juliette will do it.
“The mistakes were mine and mine alone. I have brought shame upon my House and this court.”
What do you mean? There’s panic in Sera’s voice and I feel it thrum into my throat as Juliette moves into the middle of the arena.
“My brother should not die for showing integrity and honour — for acting when I had allowed matters to become unmanageable. I will take his place.”
“No!” Sera gasps under her breath. “We have to do something.” I feel the anger rising in her chest, simmering in her veins. I imagine the room bursting into flames, fire pouring from Sera’s palms.
I press mine onto her forearm, keeping her seated. It is either her or us.
Sera looks at me with wide, furious eyes and it makes my stomach clench with another layer of rage. What right does she have to be angry about my sister dying?
A thousand thoughts crash into my brain — so many that I feel like I am drowning in them. I do not want my sister to die. In any other circumstance, I would do anything to prevent it. But what alternative is there? If I step forward, they will kill me for my insolence. And I may not have much regard for my own life, but I will not see Sera harmed.
Let me tell them it was me?—
Do not even think about it. I throw her a singular, furious scowl. The outcome would be the same. Us both dead and Juliette soon after us for harbouring a witch and a lying brother. This has to be the way of things.
I glance over at Rafe. His face has fallen, his eyes wide. Lizzie’s hand is squeezing his forearm.
When I look back up, Juliette is staring at me.
“Very well, Lady Juliette. Honour will be restored to your House with such an act. Do you have any final words?”
“I would not have this affect my brothers’ performance in the Tournament. They are both strong competitors with true aims. They will make our House great where I have failed.” She doesn’t take her eyes off me as she speaks. And something pulls in my gut that tells me she knows every secret in my heart.
What truly happened to Ambrose. What Sera is. What lies between us.
She has always known.
And she is saving us both.
She gives me a tight-lipped smile and a short, succinct nod of the head before she takes a deep breath and plunges her hand into her chest.
It takes force and fury, but she pierces the skin, smashes through bone, then rips out her still-beating heart. The sound of tearing flesh and cracking bone is grotesque, echoing in the silent hall. She throws it at Valeria’s feet before collapsing to the ground in a lake of blood.
And the tether that unites siblings, breaks.
“No!” Sera is on her feet. I reach for her, but she pushes me away.
Her magic is simmering; fizzing in her fingertips. If there is a way to undo what has just happened, she will damned well try.
The Court’s attentions are on her now, not Juliette. They are all staring.
Milena Azarov flashes her fangs.
“Sit down,” I hiss, turning away from the sight of my sister’s body. Remember, you are supposed to be glamoured. You cannot disobey me.
I feel Sera’s anger met by frustration — the realisation that I am right. She has to be seen to be my obedient pledge. She must do whatever I ask.
With a grimace, she takes her seat.
I glance at Rafe. He has gone deathly pale. Lizzie has pressed her head into his shoulder.
Wentworth’s mouth hangs open in horror before he collapses over his knees, staring at his feet.
It is only Charlotte and Agnes who look indifferent. Charlotte has cocked her head to one side as if the whole spectacle was quite curious, and Agnes stares into nothingness, her eyes glazed over.
The rest of the hall is silent.
Valeria is the one to stand and address the assembly. She steps over Juliette’s still pulsing heart and stares up into the crowd. “Let this be a lesson for all. Honour and loyalty to the Court above all else.”
I want to fly to her and press my hands against her neck until she chokes — to rail against the injustice of it all and let Sera unleash her magic on them. But then Valeria looks at me.
And the reality barrels into me as hard and unrelenting as blows from fists.
This was her plan all along. This was how she would keep me from meeting a dismal end at the hands of the Court.
She sacrificed her own granddaughter — the next in line for our House — all so she could control me and plant someone else in Juliette’s wake. Someone who would not disobey her or question the Court’s plans. Someone like?—
“Lady Blackwood, with the loss of your granddaughter, there will be the matter of the heir to House Blackwood to address.” Genevieve’s voice cuts through the silence.
Not Charlotte. Sera’s voice is thick with dread. Surely not her.
“You have another daughter, Lady Blackwood. Are you to name her as heir?”
“Lady Eleanor serves under the Obsidian Court. I cannot ask her to return to serve us here in England.”
With it, the world shifts around me. I feel the blood rush to my ears.
I have met Eleanor only a handful of times, but I know well enough that she vowed never to return to serve under the Crimson Court after the death of her father.
It will be Charlotte.
I glance at my cousin. She is sitting on her hands like a little girl, struggling to contain her grin.
Of course. She was in on it, too.
“My son Cedric sired a daughter, Lady Charlotte Beaumont. Since the death of her parents, Charlotte has lived with us at Nighthaven. She is a Blackwood by blood, if not by name. I would see that changed and her be appointed as the heir to House Blackwood.”
“Fuck this.” Rafe stands, pushing his way past the other vampires seated around us, and storms towards the exit, Elizabeth at his heels, crashing through the doors with a slam.
Next to me, Sera’s body heats up. Her eyes have grown wild, restless. Not Charlotte.
I wrap my fingers around her wrist. It would take only one movement from Sera for the room to descend into chaos.
One move and we’re dead too, witchling.