Chapter 9
RAFE
The carriage slows, the horses’ hooves clattering against the cobblestones as we wind through the streets towards the crescent. Bath, in all its honey-coloured glory, stretches out before us. I have missed its smell; the minerals from the waters; the notes of jasmine and honeysuckle and rose that drift on the breeze; and the metallic undercurrent of long-spilled blood that lingers despite the summer rains.
“It is good to be home.” I lounge back in the plush velvet seat, my legs stretched out and nudging into Lizzie’s. “It has been too long.”
“Home?” She sits up, her hands folded neatly in her lap, tucking her legs out of my reach. “You don’t consider Nighthaven to be your home?”
“It is a fine house, of course. But it is not a home.”
Lizzie’s eyes soften. “I felt that way after my father died and we left Ackley House for the vicarage. Without your mothers, I imagine Nighthaven is quite changed.”
“Oh, not at all. The idea that Harriet and Lucienne were the maternal type is truly laughable. They were not ones to tuck us in at night and read bloody bedtime stories.”
“I did not mean?—”
“No, no, forgive me.” I chuckle. “I just meant that the Blackwoods do not own Nighthaven. The Court does.”
“But your grandmother serves on the Court.”
“Yes, but all properties given to the nobility are owned by The Crimson Court as a collective. The Brassards and Azarovs are the only ones to have never been displaced. The Blackwoods have served for centuries, but Nighthaven is only our country seat as long as we keep our seats on the Court. If we fair poorly in the Tournament and Valeria loses her position, the house goes with it.”
“Ah.” Lizzie glances out of the window, giving me time to admire the profile of her nose and the curve of her lips in the dim carriage light. “It was a little like that at the vicarage — only our home for as long as Father serves the church.”
“Your father would surely not give up his position?”
“No, not willingly. But if anyone were to find out his step-daughter was entangled with the devil, I am sure he would be chased from London altogether.”
I laugh. “That won’t happen. No one will know. You will be back to being a vicar’s daughter before you know it.”
The carriage falls quiet.
After a few moments, Lizzie turns back to me. “You know, I quite hate the idea of going back to live with my family.” Her voice is small. “It is why I came to your ball in the first place. But there will be no other future for me. Not now.”
“You are not ruined, Miss Fairfax.” I straighten up, too. “There will be many opportunities for you once our Season is over and you are free of our service. I will see to it personally that you are the prize in any ballroom.”
“I don’t need you to glamour the ton into accepting me.”
“No, of course not. I just meant…” I roll my shoulders back, feeling the stiffness that has set in after the long journey. “You have sacrificed a great deal to serve this family. It shan’t be forgotten.”
She nods and I watch as she turns her attention back to the rain-slicked streets beyond the window.
I told her of Bath’s true nature during the earlier part of our journey — all the delights and devils she will experience here. None of it seemed to rattle her. She is used to watching the shadows for monsters since she has been with us, but the same spirit was there when I chose her in Mayfair. It has made me curious about her. How many vicar’s daughters would not wince at the idea of vampires ruling one of the ton’s favourite retreats?
“Were you born in London, Miss Fairfax?”
“Yes.”
“Bath will be a change for you, then. You will experience clean air, perhaps for the first time in your life. It is not choked with grime like the capital. Here we have the rejuvenating baths and the rolling hills a mere stone’s throw from the centre of the city. It is quite splendid.”
Lizzie smiles. “I did not have you down as the type of lord that is prone to midnight wanders through the hills.”
“Benjamin was always the poet among us, not I.” As soon as I say his name, the familiar rage sets in my bones. I swallow it down. “There is a charm to Bath in the evening. You will experience it for yourself before long.”
“I am not sure I will see the appeal when there will be vampires on every corner.”
“There will be more danger in Bath than you would face locked up in Nighthaven. But you will have freedom here, of sorts.”
Lizzie’s eyes flicker. “Freedom?”
“Yes.” I nod. “During the day, you will be free to do as you please. Of course, you would be wise to rest. But if you want to visit the modiste or frequent one of the fine teashops, then there is nothing to stop you.”
“And at night?”
“There will be balls and preparations for the Tournament. But you will be by my side. I won’t let any harm come to you.”
“I am not sure you can make such an assertion when there will be so many vampires here.” The carriage judders over something and Lizzie turns to the noise. It is followed by a whinny from the horses and a thunk as the carriage stops.
“Come, let us see the lodgings we have been given for the Season.” I leap forward to open the door before the driver gets there.
“Will your grandmother be here?”
“Oh no, she resides on the Royal Crescent. That is where many of the matriarchs take their homes. But she has made it quite clear she does not want to be troubled by our dramatics after all that unfolded at Nighthaven.” I grin, jumping down and turning back to offer Lizzie my hand.
She stares at it for a moment and I think she might refuse. But then, with a bite of her lip and her eyes dragged up to mine, she takes it; her gloved fingers resting lightly on my palm as she descends onto the cobblestones.
The steps are damp from the rain and, in her smooth-soled boots that are more fit for strolling around the pathways of a summer garden than fairing the elements, Lizzie slips.
My hands fly out to her, catching her waist. “Careful now.”
I set her down gently on the ground, holding onto her for a heartbeat too long.
Lizzie pulls away, clearing her throat and smoothing down her dress, before nodding towards the steps of the house. “It seems we’re being watched.”
I follow her gaze, taking in the sight of Juliette, Charlotte, their pledges and Mrs. Hawley gathered on the steps. They make for a rather grim welcoming party, their expressions ranging from impassive to outright hostile.
Charlotte, in particular, looks like she’s swallowed a lemon. Her arms are crossed tightly over her chest, her lips pressed into a thin line. I suppose losing one’s pledge, both brothers, and being forced to take a replacement human other than the one you had hand-selected would put anyone in a foul mood, but then Charlotte has always had a flair for the dramatic.
Agnes hovers nervously at Charlotte’s side. She is utterly changed from the girl Benjamin selected in Mayfair. She was an unlikely choice for him back then. Sharp-tongued and vicious, I could make no sense of Benjamin’s decision when he had always been the soft-hearted fool among us.
Now, he is not that creature. I feel the anger tear through me again, raw and violent, and do my best to push it away.
Benjamin is not here. He will not spoil Bath for me.
Juliette stands with Wentworth a few steps apart from the others as Mrs Hawley searches through a vast collection of keys for the one that might unlock this particular door.
I take Lizzie’s arm in mine as we stride forward to join them, feeling her fingers tighten almost imperceptibly against the thick fabric of my travelling coat.
I feel a sudden surge of protectiveness for her. She knows something is wrong. Just as I do.
“You needn’t have waited for us,” I say as we reach them, knowing there will be no way they have lingered outside to welcome us.
“We wouldn’t be standing on the steps like gutterfangs if there were more staff than Mrs Hawley,” Charlotte spits, making no attempt to keep her voice low. “Why is no one here to greet us? The other families on the Court have whole families of witches at each of their residences. And we have one.”
“Mrs Hawley runs our household.” Juliette glares at our cousin.
“And why would we need anyone else when we are taken such good care of?” I throw a grin at the back of Mrs Hawley’s head that I know she would hate if she were facing me to see it.
Behind us, there is a clatter of wheels and hooves and I expect to see Nate and Sera’s carriage rolling in, but it is another carriage entirely — members of a different vampire family making their way to the other end of our more modest crescent.
“Where is our brother?” I ask, just as Mrs Hawley finally pushes the door open and steps inside into the gloom. “His carriage was behind mine.”
Juliette glances back, frowning. Wentworth scans the streets too, looking for Sera. He has always struck me as a strange choice for Juliette — too serious and self-righteous for his own good, and terrible at keeping his affections for Seraphina hidden. But I suppose my sister chose him for his blood, not his company. And he is fortunate that Nate has allowed him to remain in possession of his head when he makes such puppy-dog eyes at Sera whenever they are together.
“Do you think something has happened to them?” Lizzie looks up at me anxiously. “They were directly behind us when we left Nighthaven.”
“Perhaps they lost a wheel,” Charlotte smirks, skipping over the threshold with Agnes at her heels. “That would have taken time to resolve. Especially in the rain. I wonder how they passed the time.”
“I’m sure they’ll be along shortly. Nate’s not one to let a little rain slow him down,” I say, letting my hand find the small of Lizzie’s back.
She doesn’t look convinced, but allows me to guide her into the house, following the others.
The interior is all gleaming marble and polished wood. It should be smart and grand, but there’s a certain staleness to the air, a sense of disuse that will need Mrs Hawley’s attention to chase it away.
And it is dark, of course. These houses are kept in perpetual darkness and for the first time, I am not welcomed by it.
“Well, this is about as cosy as a mausoleum,” I remark, my voice echoing in the foyer.
“My point exactly,” Charlotte whines. “If we had staff here in Bath, then they would ensure we didn’t walk into such a dismal sight. There isn’t even a candelabra lit to welcome us.”
With a flick of her hand, Mrs Hawley sets light to the sconces on the wall and the mood instantly changes, although Charlotte continues to pout.
Juliette sweeps past us. “Mrs. Hawley will show you to your rooms. Rest and we will reconvene at sundown tomorrow.” There’s a note of tension in her voice, a tightness around her eyes that isn’t usually there. Something is amiss. She feels it too.
We make our way up the grand staircase — Wentworth, Lizzie, and I following Mrs. Hawley’s brisk steps. As we walk, I can’t shake the feeling that the house feels too still, too quiet, like the calm before a storm. Ordinarily, such a sensation wouldn’t bother me: I am never one to shy away from a deluge. But without Nate here, it strikes a lingering feeling of dread in my stomach.
Mrs Hawley shows me to my chambers at the top of the house, high in the eaves.
“You know, the rumours about my kind are not true, Mrs Hawley. We may have the speed of bats, but we do not require a roost to sleep in,” I grumble, looking around the room. There are no shutters, no windows at all, and I bite down the frustration that I have been stuffed in the attic, along with piles of dusty furniture.
“I will have it attended to, my lord, to make you more comfortable.”
“Of course.” I smile at her, wiping away my churlishness. “You shall work your magic, as always.” And I will spend my time in Elizabeth’s chambers instead.
The thought makes my smile broaden, and my fangs itch. I have not fed from her — not last night when she came to me after the hunt, nor during the carriage ride. It seemed a cruelty after the suffering she endured at Ambrose’s hand and under his jaws. I did not want her to think me like him.
Vampires can go days without feeding before we suffer any ill effects, but during the Season, the hunger is harder to suppress. And with someone as sweet as Lizzie, I can feel myself going mad with the depth of my appetite.
I will either have to accept she may think me a monster, or find a blood house to satiate me. Neither are options I relish. But I cannot stay here, pacing and hungry, worrying about my brother.
I am about to go back downstairs when there is a creak on the steps. The staircase opens straight into my chamber, so when I turn around it is to Lizzie standing before me with those glittering pools of green — summoned by a thought.
“Lady Juliette came to my chambers. She thought we might be together as you do not much care for yours…” Lizzie stumbles over her words, her cheeks colouring as she looks around. “She has asked for you in the drawing room. I think something is wrong.”
“Wrong?” A cool weight settles in my stomach.
“I believe it has to do with your brother.”
My forehead pinches together. Nate is alive — I would feel it if he wasn’t. But there is a reason he is not here. One that is becoming a concern the longer he takes to join us.
I fly past Lizzie and into the drawing room, pushing the hunger to the back of my mind and praying it stays there.
Juliette stands by the fireplace, her arms crossed and her expression grim. Charlotte is already there, lounging in a chaise, boredom painted over her porcelain face.
“What has happened?” I ask. “Is there news?”
“Nate’s carriage was attacked.” Juliette’s eyes dart to Lizzie, who hovers at my elbow. She glares at her and with that silent command, Lizzie dips her head and takes her leave, shutting the door behind her.
“We don’t know the details yet,” Juliette says, “but they’ve gone into hiding until nightfall. Until it’s safe for them to join us.”
“Attacked by whom? Hunters?”
Juliette nods. “Hunters who seemed to know their every movement.”
My nostrils flare, rage sparking even more deeply when I look at Charlotte. “Convenient, isn’t it cousin, that you found the thought of Nate not being here so amusing?” I fly over to her, snarling. “What have you done?”
“You think I knew about this?” She glares up at me.
“I think you more than knew about it — I think you planned it.”
“Next, you’ll be telling me I’m behind the attack at Nighthaven, too.”
“You hated Benjamin. It would make sense that you would want the lord he loved dead.”
Charlotte rolls her eyes. “I didn’t hate my brother; he was just terribly dull. And I knew nothing about Gregor until he was frothing at your sister’s feet.”
I stare at her, trying to read the truth behind her petulant expression. “You were furious with Nate for Ambrose’s death.”
“Yes. But I’m not stupid enough to kill him. I have no interest in facing the Court.”
Juliette puts a hand on my arm, guiding me away. “Rafe isn’t accusing you of anything, Charlotte. But you must understand, this does not look good on you.”
Finally, Charlotte reacts. “The only one this reflects badly on is you, cousin. You are the one who organised our movements from Nighthaven, and now your brother is missing.” She lurches out of the chaise. “I will not stay in a house with my own family when they think I would plot such a thing. Mrs Hawley?” She bellows and Mrs Hawley appears at the door. “Miss Ellington and I will be staying with my grandmother tonight.”
“Lady Charlotte, I am not sure that is wise?—”
“Take me there,” she snarls.
Mrs Hawley dips into a curtesy and Charlotte sweeps from the room, clicking her fingers and yelling for Agnes.
I watch her go, a sour taste in my mouth. Charlotte’s always been unpredictable, but would she really stoop so low as to set my brother’s death in motion?
“It is an excuse to be with Grandmother. Pay her no mind.” Juliette sits down, her back remaining poker straight. “I don’t believe she was behind it. But someone was. Someone who has been fed information. It is likely the driver was involved.”
“Aulus?” I scoff. “That poxy gutterfang barely had a thought in that miserable head of his. He couldn’t orchestrate an attack.”
“Nate was seen driving the carriage by another noble family headed for Bath. It is how we knew something had happened. They had already passed the hunters’ bodies.”
“And Miss Sterling? Is there news on her?”
“She was seen, yes.”
“What is it that concerns you?” I take a seat opposite Juliette. “They were both seen alive. I am sure they are simply taking shelter and will be here by midnight tomorrow.”
Juliette sighs, trailing her fingers lightly over her forehead before clasping her hands back together on her lap. “The fact Nate isn’t here does not bode well. With his trial looming…”
I frown, a prickle of unease running down my spine. “Trial? It is truly happening, then? Nate told me as much at Nighthaven, but I thought it was just Grandmother’s way of frightening him.”
“He will face the Court for Ambrose’s death. Grandmother’s been keeping the details close to her chest, but I fear they won’t be satisfied with a plea of self-defence. I am worried for him.”
I run my hand down one leg of my breeches, my palm clammy. Nate being on trial for murder is unthinkable, even with the bad blood between him and Ambrose.
“I did not think Grandmother would let it get so far,” I mutter. “When is the trial set to take place?”
“Within a day or two. The Court are keen to move quickly so our full attention can be on the Tournament.”
“There will be a grand assembly, no doubt?”
“Yes. All the noble families will be summoned to learn about the future of the pledgings and to deal with any matters of law and order. Nate included. It is just…” Juliette trails off, looking past me. “I have never questioned our grandmother, Rafe. You know that. But there are things afoot that concern me.”
“Like what?”
“Things I cannot speak of.” His shoulders slump a fraction. “I do not claim to be morally superior to anyone. We are vampires and we need blood to survive. But there are ways things should be done…”
I try to read the space in-between Juliette’s words — all the things she is not saying for fear of Valeria seeing her loose tongue as a betrayal.
“I worry that under the Court’s regime, we are headed for a darkness that none of us asked for.”
“What do you mean? What have you heard?”
“I have nothing concrete, only a feeling. Snippets of conversation. Whispers.” Juliette shakes her head. “There is something else going on, I am sure of it. Whether it is the Tournament that isn’t what it seems or the arrangements for the pledgings, marriages, and siring, I cannot say. But they are not acting on the gutterfangs’ slaughter and I think…”
“What, Jules?” I lean forward over my knees, looking up at her.
“I think Nate and Miss Sterling are involved in things, whether or not they realise it. Which might explain why someone wanted them out of the picture.”
“You think the thirteen are behind it?”
“Perhaps.”
“But what threat does Nate pose?”
Juliette smiles sadly. “He is strong now, Rafe. Haven’t you noticed?”
“Well, yes?—”
“And he is possessive over Miss Sterling, to the point of insanity. To the point that he would kill his own cousin rather than share her.”
Juliette’s words land in my stomach like a stone. “You think Nate loves her?”
“Love doesn’t make you strong, Rafe.”
“True.” I nod bitterly. “It makes you weak.”
“But blood bonds are something else entirely. They have been said to afford great powers to those involved.”
“Fuck.” I push away from my knees, slamming back into the chair. “Why the hell wouldn’t he tell us?”
“Because if the Court finds out, they will have an even greater axe to grind. Blood bonds are uncommon and dangerous. They threaten the order of things. And we know how much the Court depends on order.”
“But surely, if Grandmother knows?—”
“She knows. That much I can guarantee.”
“Then she would want to use Nate to her advantage, not have him killed. She wouldn’t tell the Court, either. She isn’t so loyal to them as that. It will be why she hasn’t told you her plans. It must be. She can’t risk anyone else finding out the secret weapon she has for winning the Tournament.”
Juliette pauses. “If you are right, then Grandmother will protect Nate at Court. And that means someone else is behind it.”
“Like who?” The frustration builds in my chest.
Juliette’s dark eyes meet mine. “That’s exactly what we need to find out.”