Chapter Twelve
Leonora
A jet of water flew at my face and it was only my desire to arrive at the council meeting dry that allowed me to push a shield of air around my body. I’d spent some time catching everyone up on last night’s assassination attempt, and now I was more determined than ever to continue training with my magick. The encounter with the mage had been too close.
“Good!” Cal wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead and nodded at me. I’d been trying to fit in some small training sessions with him where I could, knowing that when it came to the undead any edge would be an asset. We’d found twenty minutes today where Cal wasn’t off doing whatever it was he did when he wasn’t skulking around me, it was better than nothing, but I had a sinking feeling that whatever was coming… it wasn’t going to be enough.
“Novalie and Emerson will be waiting for us,” I said while he caught his breath.
“I’ll drop you back now and then I’ll join you in a few minutes. There’s something I have to take care of first.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Vague much?”
“Nosy much?” he mimicked, his impression of me far too high pitched. “Come on. Unless you want to walk?”
I wasn’t even sure where we were, let alone how to get to the catacombs from here. As best I could tell, we were still somewhere in London because the streets were busy outside and the vague shape of the London Eye was visible in the distance. We’d teleported directly into the catacombs before though, so I didn’t have a clue how to get to their entrance on foot and it wasn’t like it would be on any of the tube maps—SECRET ENTRANCE TO CREEPY CATACOMBS ALIGHT HERE.
The abandoned warehouse we usually used for practice smelled like damp and dust, like the hole in one corner of the ceiling had let in the rain but not enough sunshine for it to dry out properly. I’d never caught the scent of anyone else there, so whatever it was Hayes was off doing, it wasn’t happening here.
I took Cal’s hand and wasn’t surprised when only I showed up at the antechamber where a crowd was already gathering. Novalie stood with Emerson, her face oddly pale and I could hear her heart jackhammering as she held onto Em’s hands for dear life.
“Hey,” I said quietly as I stepped up behind her. “Everything alright?”
Emerson shook her head as she watched Novalie helplessly.
“My parents are here,” Novalie said, her usually confident voice hoarse, like she’d been internally screaming. “I don’t think they’ve seen me yet.”
I nodded, glancing between her and the couple standing on the other side of the room, deep in conversation with a vampire I didn’t recognise. “Okay. I have to say, I’m relieved it’s your family springing up out of the blue for once and not mine.” My words didn’t elicit the laugh I’d hoped, if anything her anxiety became even more palpable, and when I looked up I realised why.
“They’re coming this way!” I hadn’t ever heard Novalie squeak and yet, that was fear on her face. Was it something her parents had done in the past? Or was it more to do with what they’d failed to do in the present?
“It’s going to be alright,” I tried to soothe her, letting her grab my other hand and wincing when she squeezed. “They might have just been waiting to see you in person to claim you. Okay? The ball could have been a big misunderstanding.”
“You think so?” The hope in her voice made me irrationally angry—not at her, but rather the two vampires who now stood before us. The woman, Novalie’s mother, was still living, but the man at her side was undead. They flicked a glance at me and Emerson but then focused all of their attention on their daughter and I heard Novalie’s dry swallow from where I was standing.
“Novalie,” the woman said and I was surprised at the girlish quality to her voice considering the severity of her face. I could only assume nurture had won out over nature in Novalie’s case, because this woman was the definition of stuck-up. Her slim nose was upturned at the end and I could see all the way up her nostrils from the angle of her haughtily-tilted chin. The male vampire, her father, was clearly where Novalie got her colouring from, but on him the features looked as dull as his bland suit. By contrast, it was hard to see the resemblance thanks to Novalie’s blunt-cut hair and the deep purple mini dress she wore. Its hem was dangerously short and the neck dangerously low, plunging into a ‘V’ that stopped just shy of her belly button.
“Mother,” she said, and the demure catch in her voice was so foreign I nearly stepped back. “It’s so good to see you, to see you both.”
The man that was her father didn’t even look at her in acknowledgement, instead gazing out at the gathered vampires, the buzz of conversation loud enough for us to be lost in it.
The pair stayed silent and Novalie continued on, “When I didn’t hear from you after the ball, I assumed I was unclaimed.”
“You assumed correctly,” the woman said sharply and I had never wanted to punch a person more than right then. “You have been a unilateral disappointment. However,” she said, uncaring of the flinch that raced across Novalie’s face before she hid it, some small spark of the woman I knew resurfacing. “You are our blood.”
Novalie stepped forward to take the hand her mother offered and I met Emerson’s eyes over Novalie’s head, a sick feeling rushing through me when I saw the whites had turned completely blood-red. Her normally warm-coloured irises had become pitch black and when she stepped closer to grab hold of my arm, I recoiled.
“You can save her,” she muttered, her voice strange, almost like it echoed. “You will save her.”
“And as our blood,” Novalie’s mother continued, ignorant to whatever was happening to Em, “we will give you this one chance to relinquish your association with your current… acquaintances.” She glanced at me and then at Emerson and I panicked for a second until I saw that Em looked completely normal, if a little dazed. “There has been some talk, and I won’t have our family name, our good lineage, dragged through the mud with her.”
It was clear that I was the her in question and I had to confess I was intrigued to know what exactly people had been saying to warrant this reaction. Sure, my mother had made a grab for power—but that was hardly taboo in vampire circles. Yes, I’d turned a human and that was rare, but beyond that…?
Novalie straightened and I was relieved. If she wanted to ditch me and Emerson for her family, I got it. I wasn’t happy about it, but I understood. She wanted to belong, and she wasn’t the only one. But I wasn’t going to watch them kill her spirit and turn her into a little beige carbon copy of themselves. “Thank you for the offer, but I have to decline. I already have a family,” she said, turning to look at the two of us, still hanging back. “One whose love isn’t conditional.”
Emerson’s nails dug into my skin and I smirked, assuming she was feeling emotional about Novalie’s declaration—I’d definitely had my suspicions that something was going on between them besides friendship, but they would tell me when they were ready.
Except, when I looked over, her eyes were once again red and the grip on my arm became crushing as her irises bled to black. “ Save her.”
It happened so fast, I almost didn’t catch it—and Novalie certainly didn’t see it coming. One moment she was smiling as she turned back to face her mother, and the next there was red pouring from between her lips.
“I had thought you might say that,” her mother said as Novalie choked and for a moment, I could only stare in horror. She’d slit her own daughter’s throat, for the sake of reputation ?
Save her. You will save her.
How had Emerson known? What did she think I could do? Novalie would become a member of the undead—except, her parents hadn’t walked away yet, that same slim blade still sat in her mother’s hand. The other vampires waiting for the meeting to start had begun to scent the blood, turning around with expressions ranging from interest to outright hunger. Others merely looked entertained and this only increased when I snapped her mother’s wrist. The blade fell to the floor and I kicked it away.
I couldn’t undo what had already been done, but I could stop them from giving Novalie a true death. Novalie crumbled, her knees giving out as her purple dress became red and her skin a stark white, and I caught her before she could hit the ground.
Whatever had come over Emerson had faded away, her eyes back to their normal colour and when Novalie’s mother made to approach us once more, the growl that rumbled out of Emerson raised the hair on the back of my neck.
Several other vampires in the vicinity raised eyebrows and backed away a little further as Emerson flew between us and Novalie’s parents. I trusted her, she could handle herself and she was strong, partially thanks to being a bitten vampire rather than one born. I couldn’t turn my head to watch her tear apart Novalie’s parents, but I could hear it, alert to any grunts of pain on Emerson’s end of things.
Instead, I focused on my friend that lay dying in my arms. It didn’t matter that she would come back—this version of her would be gone and there was no telling how much of her personality would survive her undeath. Would she grow cold, like Elowen and so many others? My hands clasped her shoulders tighter as her heart began to slow and her fingers became limp where they held onto my wrists.
I’d witnessed plenty of death, caused it more than once, and felt its embrace myself. Knowing Novalie would come back didn’t make it any easier to see her die. My hands were shaking and I looked up and around, as if someone could help us—as if anyone would—and for some reason all I could think about was Hayes in that fucking dream, telling me he would be at the trial today. It wasn’t logical to be angry at someone for something a version of them said in a dream, but it didn’t matter. There was blood soaking the floor, coating the tights I’d let Novalie talk me into wearing, the sparkly skulls now red, and I needed someone to be pissed at. So I chose him, because he wasn’t there and I hated that I wished he was.
Wild and uncontrolled, my magick rose up inside of me as the wave of my emotions crested, my rage unspent and my worry for Novalie driving me even as her eyelashes fluttered. I could taste the lightning in my veins, could see my hair lifting off of my shoulders, and when Novalie’s eyes finally opened, locking on mine, I followed the instinct lighting up my blood.
Because she had been right—we were her family and she was mine .
I bit into my palm, the blood welling immediately even as sparks jolted from my skin and singed the air. “Novalie,” I intoned, my voice echoing with the same strange power Emerson had displayed, and I could see my own white glowing eyes reflected in Novalie’s. “House of Romilly claims you. Do you accept?”
There was nothing in my ears except static, increasing to thunder when her eyes lit up and she raised herself from the floor to drink the blood I’d spilled just for her. “I accept.”
Power rushed through me and I could feel it in her, like my bond with Hayes but different, lesser. Novalie gasped, like she could feel it too, and when the rush faded away I sagged, Emerson’s arm holding me up until my head stopped spinning.
“What just happened?” Novalie said, her throat healed with barely a pink line to show where it had been cut.
“I have no idea.” I sighed, something told me it wasn’t commonplace, though. The power in my veins had retreated and my mind was clear, free to process the muttering and cautious looks that surrounded us. At some point, Adrian had appeared, too. I didn’t know how much he’d seen or heard, but I could guess that it was enough. He took a step forward and sudden strength flooded me. A snarl ripped through the air and I cut it off when I realised it was coming from me. Something territorial had awoken inside me at Adrian’s approach.
There was a harsh beat of silence and I wondered if he would kill me right there and then. Instead, he clapped his hands once. “We are ready to begin.”
The doors behind him and a few other vampires still crowding round swung open, as if on command.
“I couldn’t have been gone for more than twenty-minutes,” a fair-haired man hissed at me as he shook his head and I blinked at him, sure he had the wrong person until I looked into his eyes and realised it was Cal. Why he’d felt the need for a disguise was a mystery, maybe he’d just felt like showing off, but in that moment, I’d never been more grateful to see him. “Twenty fucking minutes, Nora.”
I shook my head, unsure what to say. Novalie was sitting up, her face soft and vulnerable and before I could try and find the words to talk to her, she was throwing her arms around me.
“I can’t believe my mother tried to kill me,” she mumbled into my shoulder and I laughed, the sound oddly wet.
“Join the club.”
We let go of one another and I took her chin gently in my hand, tilting it so she couldn’t see behind me to whatever Emerson had left of her parents.
“Take them somewhere safe,” I said to Cal, weariness filling me, and he nodded.
“You’ll be okay?” Emerson said quietly and I nodded, searching her face for any evidence of the previous strangeness. Had I imagined it? Or had Emerson somehow known what Novalie’s parents were planning before they’d acted? “Alright,” she murmured, helping Novalie to her feet and taking Cal’s hand. They vanished and I was still standing in the same spot when he blinked back to me. The blood on the floor was settling into the cracks of the stone and I could feel the stickiness of it congealing in various places on my body.
There was something like concern in his eyes as I walked closer and braced one hand on his shoulder, using my other to half-shimmy and half-rip myself out of the bloody tights.
“Here.” He waved a hand and a cool mist smoothed over my skin and hair, cleansing me. “You’re slightly less bloody now.”
“Thank you.” I set my shoulders and was glad when he didn’t try to ask if I was okay. I wanted to be with Novalie and Emerson, making sure they were okay, but I could feel the tiny threads inside of me that connected us together, and that would have to do for now.
We walked through the stone doors into the sanctuary of what might once have been a church, complete with stone pews moulded to the ground and a squeaky gate that separated the council members and their audience.
I couldn’t avoid Adrian’s stare, so I met it head-on and wasn’t sure what it meant when he looked away first.
“Let us begin.”