Chapter 4 Augustin
Gideon: I know you’re disappointed, Augie. But do try to chill out. I wouldn’t want you to accidentally have an emotion.
It’s not a good idea for you to move in just yet. Let’s deal with this whole Upyr/human marriage reform first, and THEN we’ll work on your little problem.
I DRAG MY FEET AS I turn away from Komal and head back down the pathway, meeting up with Hannah on the corner beside the large sausage dog statue that someone in the village thought passed for art.
She peeks out from behind the dog’s wonky hindquarters, her dark hair in messy pigtails, her olive skin collecting shadows, her whole body sagging when she sees my face.
Something sharp and cold stabs through my chest.
“No park?” she whispers.
“No park tonight.” I scoop her in my arms. She’s so small. Far too small for her age. I hate that. I know I’m responsible. “But I’ll play with you when we get home. Any game you want.”
“Okay.” She snuggles down against me and reaches up with cool fingers to touch my cheek. She pulls away, her finger smeared with bright-blue icing. “What’s that on your face?”
“Birthday cake.”
She sucks her finger, her eyes widening with glee as she tastes what I’m certain is a delicious cake. “That’s amazing.”
“There’s plenty more, should you wish to partake.”
Hannah scoops up more blue icing with her fingers, smearing it all over her favourite dress in the process. “I’m not sad, but why do you have birthday cake on your face?”
Because an infuriating woman smashed it there.
“Someone thought I’d enjoy it.”
“That’s dumb. They obviously don’t know you.”
Not as well as I wish. “No, they don’t.”
“It’s my birthday next week.” Hannah’s voice rises with excitement.
“I know.”
“But you don’t have a birthday.”
“I do, actually. All of us were born, Hannah. I simply don’t remember it. It was a long time ago. We celebrate my Bloodeve in February, and your birthday next week, as we always do.”
She snuggles into my shoulder. With Hannah in my arms, I walk quickly away from the village, onto a winding path that leads deep into the woods.
The night is crisp – one of those lovely autumn evenings where it’s still warm enough to be outside but the colours are starting to change. Hannah loves this time of year, which is why we try to get outdoors as much as possible.
We used to be able to walk about more freely, sometimes go to events at night, but ever since Gideon Blake came to the village and started moving vampires onto Sanctus Estate, I’ve been too afraid to be seen with Hannah. If my kin knew the truth…
Hence, no playing in the park while Komal Ahuja and her friends are there.
I know we can’t keep on like this. Things need to change, and if Gideon won’t help me change them because he’s more focused on his friend Alaric’s wedding and not imploding Sanctus Estate, then I’ll have to change them myself. Therefore, Augustin Durant for mayor.
But if Komal runs for mayor, there’s a chance – however slim – that she might win. And then my power to negotiate with the Conclave is gone.
I worry about all this as Hannah chatters breathlessly on about the latest dragon book she’s reading and her birthday plans.
I wish I hadn’t promised her so much, but when Gideon and I made our agreement, it was before he fell in love with Arabella Lestrange – a member of the Nevermore Coven – and gave her control over half the estate.
Arabella doesn’t know my secret, and Gideon thinks that while their relationship with the Conclave and the courts is strained, it’s not the best time to blow the vampire community’s collective mind with my revelation.
And so, Hannah has to be satisfied with the birthday consolation prize I wrangled for her – a late-night shopping trip. A risk, and a poor substitute for being free, but at least she’s excited.
Provided the shopkeepers comply. But I’m certain they will, once the Sanctus vampires come visiting. I can be persuasive.
A few minutes later, we arrive at our cottage.
We left all the lamps on inside and along the path to light our way home.
Hannah’s eyes aren’t as good in the darkness as mine.
I carry Hannah around the path lined with painted stones we made a couple of years ago.
The solar torches and rocks that charge up during the daylight create a magical grotto behind the cottage, and the winding path forms a labyrinth – a circular maze made from dirt paths and lined with stones, with no branches or alternate paths.
Ever since Hannah read a book on Greek myths, she’s been obsessed with labyrinths. I’ve been able to give her so little, but I could at least make her a labyrinth of her very own.
Now Hannah has moved on from labyrinths to another obsession – shopkeeping. She talks about nothing else but owning a flower shop and selling delightful things to people who want them. She doesn’t understand that she’ll never be able to do that, and I can’t bear to tell her.
Hannah trots around the labyrinth, inventing an elaborate game with her dolls, one of whom is the minotaur and another is Theseus coming to slay the monster, only the minotaur has some colourful scarves to sell and Theseus is enraptured.
Theseus is a girl doll in a bright purple dress with long, wavy dark hair and fierce topaz eyes. The doll reminds me of Komal.
Komal.
Komal could be a problem.
She’s always a problem. Mostly because she’s an aggravating ball of shimmering dark hair and raw energy who has made it her life’s mission to upset every one of my plans. She’s controlling and argumentative and passionate and human.
Komal is also part of that nosy Nevermore Murder Club and Smutty Book Coven. Gideon already has them investigating the huskings. Komal would do anything to bring me down, and if she knew my secret, she’d have everything she needed to ruin me. And Hannah.
If Komal gets too close to the Conclave, then my one chance of giving Hannah a normal life will go up in a puff of smoke.
She isn’t really going to run. Komal cares too much about what people think of her to risk losing the election. She was making one of her silly jokes, trying to get a reaction out of me.
Relief surges through me. Of course, it was just Komal being her wild, unhinged self. This is good.
Because I can’t allow her to become mayor. If she runs, I have to bring her down.