Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Fox
Cornelius rises from his chair with a sudden swiftness befitting a man half his age.
“The wardrobe,” he murmurs and points to the door that leads to his bedroom.
I take hold of Briony’s arm and pull her there immediately, through into the old man’s bedroom containing his neatly made single bed covered in an old blanket and an even older-looking wardrobe.
I open the doors and Briony and I step inside, closing them behind us just as there’s a fierce knock on the old man’s door.
Briony’s eyes find mine in the darkness.
“Coming!” I hear Cornelius call out. But that swiftness he’d found earlier has obviously vanished because there’s more impatient knocking before we finally hear the door open.
“Silas,” Cornelius says, “to what do I owe this unexpected visit? I’m unused to visitors at my private chambers, particularly at this late hour. You’re lucky you caught me awake.”
Sterling is obviously unimpressed by the old man’s wittering.
“There have been reports,” he barks, “that the traitors are hiding somewhere in the academy.”
“Traitors?” Cornelius says, sounding far more bewildered and befuddled than he did only moments earlier – and I realize what a helpful disguise old age can be.
“The girl, Briony Storm, and her companions – Beaufort Lincoln, Dray Eros, Thorne Cadieux.”
“Really?” Cornelius says. “They’re such excellent students. Are you sure you’re not confused—”
“No,” the other man says in obvious frustration. “They are working with the demons. They’ve destroyed the wall that keeps us safe. Even now our troops are battling to hold back demon forces.”
“Oh, my, destroyed the wall that has stood for hundreds of years?! What a feat! Sounds almost like the stuff of fairy tales,” the professor says.
Sterling ignores the old man this time.
“Have you seen any of the traitors, Cornelius?”
“What did you say their names were again?” Cornelius asks.
“Search the room,” Sterling orders, and then there are more stamping footsteps. Soldiers.
Briony gasps and I press my finger against my lips. I have no breath or heartbeat – nothing that will give me away to prying ears – but the girl beside me has both.
We hear the soldiers stomping around the old man’s room as he mutters away to them in bewilderment, either genuine or manufactured. Then those same footsteps reach the bedroom.
I wrap my arms around her, let my shadows swim over our skin, hoping it’s enough to hide us if anyone opens the wardrobe door. We hear the mattress creak as someone looks beneath it. We hear another cupboard door open somewhere else in the room.
Footsteps draw closer.
Briony tenses in my arms and I draw my hand over her mouth. Her breath is hot and wet against my palm, and I can feel her pulse drumming in her veins. I can smell her sweet scent in my nose. I will my magic to be enough to conceal us.
The footsteps draw closer still.
They stop on the other side of the wardrobe door. I can hear the man breathing, can smell his body odor through the wood.
It’s been a long time since I’ve used the other power gifted to me as a vampire – a power that I’ve always hated, that I’ve very rarely used.
The ability of suggestion, of persuasion.
Since I turned my back on my hunting days, I haven’t wanted to use it.
The only time I’d been tempted was out in the demon wastelands when I was Veronica’s prisoner.
But it doesn’t work on other vampires. Only humans.
I test the barrier of the man’s mind now. It’s weak, flimsy, spongy – easy enough to penetrate. I find a disappointing mind: simple, not much going on in there, easy enough to tweak, to manipulate.
The soldier reaches out his hand toward the handle of the wardrobe door. I see the image reflected in his mind. I twist the thoughts. His hand hangs there for a moment, then draws back. The man turns and walks away.
Briony visibly relaxes in my arms, her body slackening.
But I know the danger isn’t over. There are other soldiers.
There is Sterling himself, a much cleverer, more manipulative man.
But his irritation with Cornelius and his wittering is getting the better of him.
He’s losing his patience and his temper.
And in another moment, he’s ordering his soldiers away.
We hear their footsteps stamp out of Cornelius’s room. The door slams shut. They retreat down the corridor, and I hear Sterling thumping on another door.
I don’t release Briony from my arms. They could return.
We stand there silently until finally it’s Cornelius who opens the wardrobe door. I realize my hand is still covering Briony’s mouth, my other wrapped around her waist. With a great deal of determination, I release her and she steps out of the wardrobe.
“They’re searching each of the staff members’ rooms,” Cornelius says. “They’ve already searched the students’ rooms.”
Briony’s gaze snaps to mine, obviously thinking of Beaufort, Dray, Thorne, and her two friends.
Cornelius pauses, giving Briony a sympathetic look that turns my stomach. “He’s questioning some of your associates.”
“My associates?” Briony says, shaking her head at the ludicrousness of the word.
“Your friends,” Cornelius corrects.
Briony chews on her lip.
I want to take her back to that safe room in the library – one that I think will protect her, protect all of us. But I won’t risk it while Sterling and the soldiers are still out there in the hallways. So we’re forced to wait.
The minutes tick by, Briony becoming more and more anxious – chewing on her cheek next and then her fingernails.
Finally, when I’m satisfied that they’re gone and not coming back, I take her hand again and we head toward the doorway.
“Fox,” Cornelius says as I reach for the handle.
I pause and turn back toward the old professor.
I don’t know how much of what he’s told us – his theories and opinions – are to be trusted. His mind is not as quick as it used to be, although at times it seems so sharp.
“This castle once belonged to the lumomancers.” I nod, and beside me Briony mirrors the action. “I think if it came down to it, it would choose to protect the lumomancers if they were ever in need.”
I examine the professor, unsure what he can mean.
“Just a thought,” he says, “but one you might want to consider.”
It’s dark by the time we’re making our way back along the academy pathways, and it’s much easier to conceal the two of us within my shadows, especially taking the less-frequented paths.
“I don’t get it,” Briony mumbles beside me. “That soldier was right outside the wardrobe. Why didn’t he check it?” She shakes her head in disbelief.
“I…” I scrub my fingers through my beard, not quite able to meet her suddenly inquisitive glance.
“Why do I have a funny feeling you’re about to confess something, Professor?”
“Because you know me very well by now, Miss Storm.”
She smiles and squeezes my hand.
“Come on then,” she says. “Hit me with it.”
“I have the ability,” I tell her, “the vampiric ability, to influence and affect others.”
She stops in her tracks and turns to face me head-on.
“That sounds suspiciously vague, Professor Tudor. What exactly do you mean?”
“You must know, Briony, that vampires have the power to control and command their victims. To enthrall them.”
Briony tilts her head to one side and narrows her eyes.
“Have you ever used this ability on me?”
I can’t help laughing at that.
“Briony, you’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met in the whole entire realm. Even if I’d wanted to control your mind, even if I’d attempted to, I wouldn’t have been able to. It’s a skill I haven’t used for a long, long time. Not since—”
“Not since you’ve fed on people.”
I nod.
“And I was never that great at it in the first place. Never practiced it enough, I suppose. I’ve only ever been able to do it on weaker-minded people, like that soldier.”
“Can the Madame do it?” she asks next.
“Of course. I suspect that’s what she was trying to do the day she tortured you in the maze. She was trying to infiltrate your mind – by torture, by force, by control. But you were too strong for her.”
“I was,” she says in amazement. “I never really considered myself strong-minded.”
I laugh again. “Are you serious?”
She shrugs and begins to walk. She’s only gone a few paces further before she stops a second time.
“Have you ever used it on the others? The Princes, I mean. Beaufort, Dray, Thorne?”
I shake my head. “That’s the first time I’ve used that gift in a long time. I haven’t needed to use it before, Briony.”
“Promise,” she says.
“I promise.”
“Hmm.”
I draw my finger across my chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“Your heart doesn’t work,” she points out, “and you can’t die.”
I smile. “I’m still telling the truth.”
“Good,” she says. “And let’s be clear, if you ever do use it on me or any of the others, I’ll—”
“You’ll what, sweetheart?” I ask her.
She lifts one eyebrow. “There are very effective ways a woman can torture a man.”
I groan. “I bet there are.”
And I can’t help imagining several right now.