Velvet Shadows (The Crimson Court #2)

Chapter 19

RAFE

The world is a bloody blur; the edges smeared crimson and black. I drift in and out of consciousness, the faces of the girls at the blood house fading into one writhing mass of flesh and fangs. How long have I been lost to the oblivion of the feed? Days? Weeks? It doesn't matter.

Nothing matters anymore.

I don’t know where I am, though it seems I am alive despite my best efforts to flood my brain and lungs with blood.

I blink my eyes open, willing the world to come back into focus, but it doesn’t. The room swims around me, a kaleidoscope of colours and shapes that refuse to settle into anything recognisable.

As my head spins, I remember why I ran into the waiting arms of vice and debauchery so willingly, like the coward I am. Juliette’s eyes, her smile, flash in my head, then her heart — the moment she tore it from her chest and threw it at the feet of the Court. The memory twists like a knife in my gut, reopening wounds I’ve been desperately trying to numb.

I close my eyes and will unconsciousness to drag me under again. Sweet oblivion beckons, promising an escape from the relentless parade of guilt and grief that haunts my waking hours.

I am on the edge of success when a familiar voice cuts through the haze, insistent and annoying as a gnat. “Rafe! Wake up, you bloody idiot!”

I groan, trying to swat it away. But the voice persists, accompanied by rough hands shaking my shoulders.

“Fuck off,” I mumble, my tongue thick and heavy in my mouth. The words come out slurred.

“Not a chance, Blackwood. You’ve wallowed long enough.”

I crack one eye open and pull my head up. Enzo’s face swims into view, his usually jovial expression pinched. Even through my blood-addled haze, I can see the concern etched in the lines around his eyes.

“At last,” he sighs. “I’ve been trying to wake you up for days.”

I take in my surroundings blearily. The room is draped in a gaudy Italian style that’s more in keeping with the sixteenth century than the present day. Gilt-framed paintings line the walls and heavy velvet curtains block out any glimmer of daylight.

Enzo’s house.

He must’ve dragged my sorry arse here to dry out. And not for the first time. The realisation brings a wave of shame crashing over me.

“You should’ve just left me,” I mutter, letting my head fall back against the pillows.

“And let you drown in your own misery? Not bloody likely.” Enzo leans on the post at the edge of the bed, his eyes serious. “Look, I know you’re hurting. Juliette... It’s a damn tragedy. But this? This isn’t the answer, Rafe. You can’t fall apart when the Tournament is around the corner?”

I scoff, the sound bitter. What does he know of my pain? My family is in shambles, torn apart by secrets and lies. And what am I doing? Draining veins until I’m numb to all of it because I should have done more to protect my sister.

“Spare me the lecture, Vespucci. I’m not in the mood.” I roll onto my side, pulling the pillow over my head. The darkness is a relief, but it does nothing to silence the accusatory voices screaming in my head. “How did you find me, anyway?”

“Word soon got around that poor old Rafe Blackwood had gone wild with grief.”

“Fuck you.”

“It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

I pull the pillow down tighter, as if I could smother the pain along with Enzo’s words. I hated Benjamin for what he did to Camilla. I still do. But who am I to judge him now? We’re all monsters in the end, aren't we?

“I came looking for you after the session in court. I had news for you that night. I found Aulus.”

I roll onto my back, peeling the pillow away. The name cuts through the fog of self-pity. “You found him? Grandmother told Nate she was going to track him down and have him killed.”

Enzo scoffs. “I am sure that was never her intention. But regardless, I got there first. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up so you might talk to him.”

I sit upright, ignoring the protest of my aching body. “He is here?”

“Yes. Downstairs.”

I’m on my feet in an instant, but the room spins wildly the moment I move. The floor seems to tilt beneath me, and I stumble, nearly falling.

Enzo steadies me, his grip firm on my arm. “Easy there, old friend. You’re in no state to be interrogating anyone just yet.”

I shake my head, trying to clear it. “I’m fine. I need to see him.”

Enzo sighs, but doesn’t release his hold. “Aulus showed up a few hours before the court assembly. I’d put the word out that if anyone saw him, they were to send him here under the promise of sanctuary. Luckily, he was stupid enough to believe I might actually take pity on him.”

My teeth grind together. Aulus, the good-for-nothing gutterfang who betrayed Nate and Sera on the road to Bath and set another series of disasters in motion. The thought of him here sends a surge of hot hunger through me, calling for blood.

“Where is he?” I growl, already moving towards the door. My steps are unsteady, but fuelled by the determination to rip Aulus apart. “Please tell me he is not sipping tea in the drawing room?”

“I have him chained up in the cellar. Not a teacup or pastry in sight.”

“Take me to him.” The words come out as a snarl, my fangs already lengthening in anticipation. “And bring a stake.”

Enzo nods, his expression grim. As we make our way out of the bedchamber, I catch a glimpse of myself in one of the many mirrors. I barely recognise the vampire staring back at me — disheveled, wild-eyed, with dried blood caking my chin and shirt.

For a moment, I hesitate. Juliette wouldn’t have wanted this.

But then I think of Aulus, of his betrayal, and all the pain he’s set in motion. And I know that this is exactly who I need to be right now.

A monster to catch a monster.

We descend into the damp bowels of the house. The ceilings are low, so I hunch over, my nose wrinkling at the stench of piss and stale blood that hangs in the air.

“A fine place to keep a rat,” I say when I see Aulus huddled in the corner like the vermin he is.

He cringes when he looks at me, his eyes wide and terrified. “L-Lord Raphael, please, I can explain?—”

I’m on him before he can finish, my hand around his throat, squeezing. “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face here, you traitorous piece of shit.”

He chokes and sputters, scrabbling at my wrist. I ease up just enough for him to draw breath.

“I didn’t… I didn’t know,” he gasps. “I swear it. They lied to me, used me?—”

“Who?” I snarl, my fangs inches from his face. “Who put you up to it?”

He hesitates, his eyes darting to Enzo and back. I tighten my grip, watching as he turns a satisfying shade of purple beneath my fingers.

“Azarov,” he wheezes. “Nikolai Azarov. He didn’t give me a reason. Just told me where to stop the carriage. He promised me a place in his service if I helped them.”

I slacken my fingers, caught off guard by the name. “Azarov? What does that slimy bastard have to do with any of this?”

Aulus coughs, rubbing his throat. “I don’t know the details, my lord. I swear. He approached me in secret, said he had a job that needed doing.”

“And you just agreed? Without knowing what it was?” I squeeze harder.

“Your sister had said we weren’t needed anymore,” Aulus blunders on. “There was a possibility that once we had brought you to Bath, we would have been sent back to London. And with all the slayings…”

“You didn’t fancy being staked by a hunter, so you gave them my brother instead?” I resume the pressure, crushing his windpipe with the flat of my palm. “You miserable coward.”

“Lord Raphael, please—” he chokes out. “I had no choice. You don’t understand what it’s like. We’re nothing to you nobles, less than dirt.”

I release him abruptly, letting him crumple to the floor. He coughs and retches, clutching his bruised throat.

Enzo stares at me. “Why would House Azarov want Nate dead?”

I shake my head, mind racing. “There is no reason. Our Houses were not enemies, although we damned well are now.” I turn and kick Aulus on the floor. “Did you aid the hunters that got in that night of the ball? Did that come from Nikolai, too?”

“I know nothing about that, my lord.”

I kick him again. “If you are lying to me?—”

“I’m not, my lord. Please.” He curls into himself, trembling. “I’m as good as dead if Lord Nikolai knows what I’ve done.”

“What else did Azarov tell you?” I demand. “There must have been more. Think!”

Aulus shakes his head frantically. “Nothing, I swear. He just… he mentioned something about balance. That things needed to change.”

I exchange a glance with Enzo. “Balance? What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know, my lord,” Aulus pleads. “That’s all he said. I didn’t ask questions. Please, you must believe me.”

Disgust and pity wars within me as I look at him. Part of me wants to draw this out, to make Aulus suffer for his betrayal. But another part, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Juliette, urges restraint.

“You know we can’t let him leave here,” Enzo mutters. He throws me the stake and I catch it, weighing it in my hand for a moment.

“Lord Raphael, please—” Aulus begins, but I’ve heard enough.

I plunge the stake into his chest, putting all my strength behind the blow. He explodes beneath me, coating the ceiling with his blood and entrails.

For a moment, there’s only silence, broken by the soft patter of blood dripping from the stones above.

“I can see why the hunters do it,” I mutter, wiping gore from my face. “That pop is really quite satisfying.”

Enzo nods grimly. “Feel better?”

“Not better. But clearer.” The rage still simmers, but it’s focused now, directed. “It makes things easier knowing who we’re up against. Even if the Azarovs are the worst of the lot.”

Enzo frowns, finding a patch of wall to lean against that will not see his fine clothes covered in Aulus’s exploded organs. “Why target Nate? Surely it would be better to have an alliance with House Blackwood than start a war between the two of you?”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Could it be related to the Tournament?” Enzo muses. “Perhaps they see your family as a threat. If Nikolai intends to marry one of the Rassards, he might have tried to ensure he had no rival for their hand.”

“Maybe,” I concede. “But why go to such lengths? Why involve gutterfangs and risk exposure?”

We fall into silence, Aulus’s blood dripping around us.

“We need to warn Nate,” I say finally. “If the Azarovs are gunning for our family, then he needs to know about it.”

“What of Lady Blackwood? Will you take the news to her?”

I pause. “Ordinarily, I would have gone to her without question, but something tells me she already knows.”

Enzo’s eyes widen. “She would not have your brother killed.”

“Perhaps not. But I am damned sure she knows the Azarovs are involved.”

“So, what’s our next move?” Enzo looks around the blood-spattered cellar. “Tell your brother and then what?”

“We need to find out why. And for that, we are going to need your sister.”