Velvet Shadows (The Crimson Court #2)

Chapter 17

NATE

Icannot go back to the house with Sera. I leave her with Mrs Hawley and take off into the night, giving her no explanation of where I might be going.

In truth, I have no direction, but I know that I cannot sit in drawing rooms socialising to Valeria’s schedule, playing the dutiful grandson when she plotted against my sister.

I need answers as to what exactly Juliette knew. Because it was enough for Valeria to want her dead.

I walk by the river, catching sight of another vampire noble in the shadows, draining a human and throwing their corpse into the Avon. This is what will happen without the pledging available to all families. And with so many vampires in the city, it will not take long for things to become fraught. The Court’s notion of having the rest of our kind wait until the end of the Tournament seems a ridiculous one. It will spell disaster.

The vampire catches my eye as he turns away and I stare after him, lost in thought.

Could that be what Juliette had discovered? Plans for the pledging she did not agree with?

During the nights I was tracking the Vosslers, Juliette and Rafe did not go back to the house to feed. I did not interrogate the reasons why, but something kept them away. Did Juliette find something and confront Valeria?

My sister was notoriously private, even before our mothers died, and she became heir to House Blackwood. She had few friends in Bath. No one I can go to and ask if she shared her secrets with them. The only creatures I know she ever went to with anything were the Vosslers when Gregor died. And she would hardly bear her non-existent soul to them.

I need to speak to my brother, to learn what he knew and what his excuses are for not feeding since we’ve been in Bath, but I cannot sense him at the house. Wherever he is, he does not want to be found. He will sink into a stupor for a few days, just as he did when our mothers died. And when he emerges, he will be the same as he always was. The showman, with his feelings drowned out and buried deep.

I have no interest in adding Juliette’s death to the long list of agony that lingers in my non-existent soul. But I owe it to her to find answers — to follow the trail of breadcrumbs she sewed when she looked in my eyes before she ripped out her heart.

I know I have to go to her chambers. If there are clues to be found, then I will not discover them by wandering the city or staring into the depths of the river. The house will be the best place to start.

I fly back there, bursting into Juliette’s chambers and near knocking Mrs Hawley off her feet along the way. The door to Juliette’s room flies off its hinges as I smash into it, falling to the ground with a thud. The noise is enough to wake the whole house, though I cannot imagine Sera or Elizabeth are asleep after what they have witnessed tonight.

I stop on the threshold as the smell of Juliette hits me. It lingers in the air — honey and old parchment and candle wax. I am knocked back by it, an uncomfortable lump settling in the depths of my throat.

Her chambers at Nighthaven were star-studded and calm. Here, although her affairs are as immaculate as always, there is a different energy. A memory of emotion, of frenzy.

Under the shuttered window there is a small dressing table and next to it, a desk stacked with neat piles of paper and books. At first glance, there is nothing of note — correspondence, some sketches of buildings. If I had a human heart, it would ache at finding such a personal thing; the evidence of the dreamer that dwelt beneath my sister’s perfectly composed exterior.

I move a stack of ledgers to one side and find a leather-bound journal beneath them. My fingers freeze, tracing the strap that holds it together. It feels like an intrusion to look through it. But if Juliette had suspicions or secrets, she would surely write them here.

Carefully, I unwind the leather strap and the journal falls open on a centre page where the spine has cracked. In Juliette’s precise handwriting is a series of small, cramped notes. Many of them are meaningless — numbers and abbreviations. But as I flip through the pages, her writing becomes larger, more looped. Sprawling.

She had been investigating something. And whatever she’d discovered led to her death.

A floorboard creaks behind me. I whirl around, fangs bared, only to find Sera in the doorway. She is in her nightgown, her hair hanging in loose waves down her back.

“Nate.” Her voice is quiet. “What are you doing?”

I retract my fangs, but keep hold of the journal. “Looking for answers.”

She steps into the room, her eyes taking in the scattered papers. “Let me help.” With the smallest movement, she sets light to the candles and sconces that line the walls. There is a softness to her in the golden light, one that makes me long to pull her into my arms and forget the storm that is brewing beneath our feet.

“There are names,” I say, tracing Juliette’s handwriting with my finger. “Some crossed out.”

Sera stands next to me, reading over my shoulder. “What does this mean?”

The passage she points to is riddled with initials and abbreviations between the odd phrase or sentence. It is hard to make sense of.

“Moon and sun…” Sera reads. “Eternal light…” She cocks her head. “If I did not know Juliette, I might think she had turned her hand to poetry.”

I turn the book, following the scrawl of handwriting as it angles around the edge of the page. “Blood of two worlds… convergence… the veiled parts,” I read aloud, my brow furrowing.

The rest is illegible and Sera leaves me with it, taking a stack of papers from the desk and sitting with them on the bed.

I flip to another page. “Here is something about culling the weak.” I pause, a chill running down my spine. “The gutterfangs.” I turn to Sera, seeing her holding a sheet of parchment in her hands, her eyes wide.

“It’s a letter. Never sent.”

“Read it to me.”

“It’s addressed to a single initial. B. Benjamin, do you think?”

“They were not close.” My brow furrows. “Go on.”

“‘B. It seems the Court has plans beyond the Tournament that I cannot endorse. It would be remiss of me to not write to you and share my concerns, though I am loath to put them in writing. My particular concern is over the existence of a luna child and the practices the Court has put in place to prevent such an occurrence…’” Sera pauses. “It stops there.”

I clench my fists. “Is there nothing else?”

Sera turns the paper over in her hands, shaking her head. “What is a luna child?”

“I have never heard the terminology before.”

“Whatever it is, it was enough for Juliette to write to someone about it. Someone she trusted. But if they betrayed her…”

“She didn’t finish the letter,” I say. “But this has to be what she knew. The reason she died.”

“Who can we ask? Is there anyone left that you trust?”

I shake my head. If I have learned anything these past few days, it is that no one can be trusted. But that might be about to change.

“I have to call on Caroline Vossler. It is Valeria’s directive — she upheld her side of the bargain and ensured I survived court.”

“But Nate, what of?—”

“Caroline is an heir to House Vossler. They might be low-ranking, but they are doing what they can to rise. And I can guarantee Caroline will be a damned sight closer to knowing what the Court is up to than we are.”

“You will go to her?”

I feel Sera’s heart speed up, a familiar pang of jealousy settling in her chest. “Yes. I will speak to her. If she believes our arrangement stands, she might tell me enough to both give to Valeria and use against her.”

Having tracked them since we arrived in Bath, finding the Vossler estate is easy enough. It is a smart manor house in Charlcombe, a little over a mile from the city, that is separated from the village by its own gates and private lane.

The Vosslers are of a curious heritage. Caroline and her siblings are descended from gutterfangs, but they are far from the dregs of society that the Court would have us believe them to be. Not all gutterfangs sniff around streets or sleep under bridges. Whatever their human lives were like before, that is mostly what they cling to. They gather in nests for protection and hunting, forming their own communities. Many are poor, just as I was. But if they were wealthy enough to own property before they were turned, that does not change. And for all of Valeria’s loathing of the Vosslers, they were not peasants like me. They had money of their own.

When I reach the gates, they are open. It is calling hour.

Now that we are leading up to the Tournament, it is the norm for vampires to call upon each other, much like the humans do, so that potential matches might be explored. But there is no honour in it. Those who flatter and swoon might retract their affections if their betrothed places poorly in the final rankings of the Tournament.

It is a fickle, sham of a thing. Yet for two nights each week, there are no balls or soirees. The calling hours are not as polite as the polished, exacting meetings favoured by the ton — there will be no scrutiny from watchful mamas or offers of tea and pastries. But it is my only chance to get to know Caroline and hope that she finds me agreeable enough to spill her family’s secrets and anything she might know of the Court’s, too.

The door opens before I can grip the knocker and I am greeted by a severe-faced gutterfang butler who shows me into the drawing room. There isn’t a witch in sight.

The house is, however, thrumming with energy. They are a large family and if they are all at home, waiting for visitors, I will surely not get far with Miss Vossler. But as I enter, the drawing room is quiet and I am grateful to see Caroline alone when I cross the threshold.

“Miss Vossler, Lord Nathaniel Blackwood.” The butler bows rigidly, stepping back to usher me in.

Caroline barely glances up. She is seated at a small writing desk, engrossed in her correspondence. Around her there are open volumes and piles of parchment; a well of ink precariously balanced on a stack of books.

“Lord Nathaniel.” Her quill continues to scrawl furiously across the page. “An unexpected pleasure.” She finishes her sentence with a flourish and stands, offering me an ink-stained hand to shake. “You do realise it is quite uncommon to call upon a lady before we have been formally introduced?” She releases my hand and gestures for me to take a seat on one of the nearby settees.

“I assumed that an arrangement of marriage would stand as a satisfactory introduction. Forgive me if I was presumptuous.” There is sarcasm in my voice, but Caroline does not rise to it.

“It is a peculiar situation we find ourselves in, I agree. But we need not drag matters out.” She straightens up a little. “Let us get this over with, shall we?”

I frown. “I’m not sure I understand, Miss Vossler.”

“You have come to break our engagement now that your sister is dead. No?” Her voice is matter-of-fact; practical. I cannot imagine her feeling a great range of emotions other than the keen sense of injustice that she demonstrated at court. She reminds me a little of Juliette in that regard — cool, composed, articulate. But Juliette was affected by things. She died for them.

“I have every intention of honouring our commitment. It is why I am here, so we may become better acquainted.”

Caroline studies me with pale blue eyes, sharp as shards of ice. They are a startling contrast to her brown skin. “Lord Nathaniel, you will be announced the Tournament’s victor and required to marry someone who is far more suited to your rank — one of Lady Rassard’s great-grandchildren, no doubt. There is no shame in admitting it.”

I lean back, crossing my arms over my chest. “You seem quite certain of my success in the Tournament. I am flattered by your confidence.”

“Please, spare me the false modesty.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Your reputation precedes you.”

“If you are so sure of my success, why would your family entertain a match between us, only for it to be broken?”

“They agreed to it, so your sister might leave.”

“Agreed to it?” I frown at her. “Your parents insisted upon the match as payment for Gregor’s death.”

Caroline gives me a wry smile. “Did you believe everything your sister told you, my lord?”

“What reason would she have to lie to me about such a thing?” A tightness settles in my chest. “Your family was rightly aggrieved that Gregor died under our roof. They had orchestrated the match between your brother and my cousin and?—”

“Lord Nathaniel.” Caroline interrupts me, her tone serious. “My family had no hand in the arrangement between Gregor and Benjamin. It was made out of genuine affection. We did not care who he married, and we certainly did not ask for compensation from your sister. But she was most insistent when she came here.”

I clear my throat. At Nighthaven, Juliette told me that there was no affection from Gregor towards Benjamin — that it had all been a falsity and a way for the Vosslers to worm their way into Society more efficiently. With Gregor gone, they still needed that connection and pushed for another union as recompense.

But if everything Juliette told me was a lie…

“Your brother had true feelings for my cousin?”

“Yes, Gregor was very much in love with Lord Benjamin. Why else would he risk the wrath of Lady Blackwood in order to marry him without her approval?”

I meet Caroline’s eyes, trying to read whether she is telling the truth.

From what I have seen of her at court, she is a forthright creature. She is not a vampire to spin lies and plot entrapments. She holds them accountable.

No wonder Valeria doesn’t like her.

“It seems your sister was more mysterious than you perhaps realised.” Caroline rises and moves to a sideboard, pouring two glasses of claret. She hands one to me before settling back into her seat. “There are secrets in every family, after all.”

“Indeed.” I throw back a mouthful of wine, my thoughts churning. Juliette would have been acting on Valeria’s instruction. Was the match purely to ensure we had a way to spy on the Vosslers? They knew I would not agree to it if that was the reason. The only way Juliette could get me to go along with things was if I believed we stood on the precipice of a war that would be declared if I declined.

Perhaps she came to regret the lie in the end. Maybe it is what lead her on the path to uncover what the Court is truly up to.

“I liked your sister, you know.” Caroline sips her drink. “Despite the nature of her visit. It was clear she was under a great deal of pressure to secure an alliance between our families. And she did seem genuine in her dismay at Gregor’s death.”

I nod. “I am beginning to realise why my sister was not fit to serve on the Court.”

Caroline glances up at me. “You agree with her decision to end her life?”

“No. Juliette had not brought shame upon our family; she was the only decent one among us. And that was the problem.”

“Ah.” Caroline reclines a little in her seat. “When family and court politics collide, it is a difficult thing.”

“Aren’t they one of the same? Every family is clamouring to displace another and become one of the thirteen. There is no loyalty.”

“I am sorry that is your experience, my lord. But I can say that I trust my siblings and parents wholeheartedly.” She studies me from over the top of her glass. “As we both know our marriage will not stand, might we talk plainly?”

“Please.” I shake my hand out, flexing my fingers into fists, trying to channel the tension through my muscles. Caroline might be my only hope of a true ally, yet I still need her to give me something to take back to Valeria. It is a rocky footing for a friendship.

“I could call off our arrangement and save myself the embarrassment of you doing so when you are the Tournament’s victor. I am not one for games, you see. But I do not wish to face Lady Blackwood’s wrath if I were to do such a thing. What is your opinion on the matter? What is it she is hoping to achieve with this tenuous agreement between us?”

Her bluntness catches me off guard, but I appreciate her candour. It’s a change from the usual riddles and mindless flattery of vampire society.

“Very well,” I concede, leaning forward. “I will be frank with you, Miss Vossler. The Court is threatened by your family. My grandmother tasked me with understanding the motivations and aspirations of your House and reporting such matters back to her.”

Caroline inclines her head to one side. “Go on.”

“But since my sister’s death, I am concerned there are more sinister matters at play than the usual alliances and backstabbing.” I hold her gaze, letting her see the sincerity in my eyes. “I found documents in Juliette’s belongings that speak of concerns that she had. I believe she died for expressing them to my grandmother.”

“An honest answer. I was not expecting that.” Caroline takes another sip of her drink. “You are brave to tell me such things. Or perhaps, foolish.”

I drain my wine and set the glass on the side table next to where I am sitting. “It is a risk. I accept that.”

“You know, you are not so different from your cousin.” Her eyes linger on my face, studying me. “I liked Benjamin a great deal. He came here several times to see Gregor. And you both share a…” She pauses. “A sincerity, I suppose. You say your sister was the only decent vampire amongst you. I believe you are wrong in that regard.” When she smiles, this time there is the slightest hint of warmth to it. “Will you tell me what troubled your sister?”

I think back to Juliette’s journal and all the scribblings and symbols. Perhaps Caroline would be better placed to decipher them than me. “I believe she had suspicions about what was happening with the gutterfangs.”

“She would not be alone in such thoughts.” Caroline nods.

“You spoke out at court, challenged them on how they were dealing with the attacks.”

“Yes. We have family in London. They do not deserve to die because of their parentage.”

“I agree.” I think of Sam, his panicked eyes when he came to me in Mayfair and then again at the gates of Nighthaven. I survived an attack only because of the power Sera’s blood gives me. But to know they stalk the city you live in, to be on alert at every corner, during every feed, and that no one is coming to help must be a desperate feeling.

“This is what you think Juliette confronted your grandmother with?”

“I believe it is part of it.” I pause, choosing my next words carefully. “She had some correspondence in her personal effects. A letter — unfinished. She expressed concerns about the Court’s plans beyond the Tournament. She made mention of a luna child…”

Caroline’s eyes dart to mine. “A luna child?”

“Yes. I will admit the terminology is new to me. I am a soldier, after all, not an academic.”

“Did your sister write that such a child exists?”

“No. Her concern seemed to be what the Court are doing to prevent a luna child being born.”

Caroline stands and refills our glasses, handing mine back to me. “You must understand, Lord Nathaniel, that my knowledge is limited on the topic. The Court guards their secrets closely and this is one of them. My understanding is that luna children are those humans that are born under a blood moon. The phenomenas happen a few times a year, so it is not uncommon.”

“What is the concern, then?”

“I believe there is an old myth that should a luna child become a vampire, they would be granted significant powers. But it has not been spoken of for centuries. And there has been no discord in our society.”

My ribs tighten. “It is surely a nonsensical concern. How would any vampire know the astrological charts of those they wish to turn?” I scoff. “If there is any truth in it, then it must be a risk with each siring.”

Caroline nods. “Joint parentage is believed to prevent a luna child’s powers coming to light. It is said to be the basis the nobility was founded on.” She meets my gaze and it is as if, in that moment, things shift for both of us.

“It is why it is so heavily regulated,” I mumble. “The gutterfangs are given no power because one of them might, in fact, have it all.”

Caroline takes a gulp of wine. “Which means the Court is not just turning a blind eye to the slayings?—”

“They are the ones organising them.”