Chapter Thirty-Nine
The festival was everything Verity hoped it would be.
The moment she stepped out of Theo’s car, a pair of laughing children ran past, flower crowns askew, heading for the park.
She smiled, remembering a similar night with Cora when they were children.
Carefree, no thought of vampires or conspiracies or the Vital Exchange.
None of it existed in her world back then.
It was somewhere beneath the surface, beyond the small, safe bubble she’d grown up in. That bubble had burst a long time ago.
Theo held out her handbag and slipped his hand into hers, giving it a soft squeeze. “You ready?”
She nodded, sliding the bag over her shoulder. Checking her dress and the golden chain around her neck, the flower with its petals of sparkling moonlight. She was ready.
One night. If everything went to plan, it would be over by morning.
The Exchange, the secrets, the danger. She and Theo could finally live their lives without wondering where donors were disappearing to and where the next would come from, without hiding what they were to each other. A real couple, not a dirty secret.
“I’m ready,” she said, and they headed into the market square, following the music drifting from the bandstand on the warm spring breeze.
Heads turned as they passed. Whispers followed.
They’d braced for it, for hostility and difficult questions.
For the curious stares of people watching them the way you might watch an animal at the zoo, waiting to see what they’d do.
Verity held her head high and smiled at Theo, pretending none of it existed.
They were just another couple, out enjoying the festival.
They spotted Ed and Charlie first, perusing a table of artisan cheeses.
Ed wielded a sample on a stick, attempting, with great enthusiasm, to feed it to Charlie.
The stallholder watched the pair with open bemusement, a human trying to force feed a vampire.
Marcy and Elliot were with them, acting far more civilised while onlookers gave them a wide berth.
“I swear that man is obsessed with food,” Theo muttered, and Verity snorted.
She guided him to a bakery stall, relieved when the baker didn’t flinch at the sight of them.
He had been giving out sweet buns to the children running wild through the square.
A small boy was clutching one in each fist, sprinting away from another who was shouting, “That’s mine!
” The baker laughed and handed the second boy a fresh bun before turning to Verity and Theo.
“Good evening,” he said, eyes flicking between them.
“Hi,” Verity said. “I wanted to thank you again for helping with the festival.”
He waved her off, shaking his head, “I’m just glad to be part of it.” They chatted a moment longer before moving on to the next stall.
Lois and Dr Smythe were admiring an artist’s wares nearby, the good doctor stoic as ever, nodding along while Lois pointed pieces out to him. Verity was about to go over when Stella appeared.
“Evening,” she said, looking between them.
“Good evening,” Verity said, smiling. Stella scowled.
“I’m not talking to you.”
The corner of her mouth twitched all the same, and Verity knew that she’d already been forgiven for the break-in.
“The police need to talk to you,” Stella said to Theo.
“We’re at the festival.”
“It’s urgent. And we still need to go over your speech, you’re up in fifteen minutes. Then you introduce the choir, then the dancers.” She launched into the itinerary Verity had given her, rattling through it without pause for breath.
“Fine,” Theo said, scanning the crowd until he spotted Jesse. “Why don’t you go stay with him for a bit?”
Verity didn’t much care for being handed-off like a child needing minding, but she understood. Plus, Petra was due any moment, and Verity wanted to be sure Jesse was ready.
“Okay,” she said, tilting her head back in a dare. He smiled, brushed a strand of hair from her face, and kissed her quickly.
“See you in a minute,” he said, and was gone, Stella already talking at him before they’d taken three steps. Something cooled in the air the moment his hand left hers.
She made her way toward Jesse, picking up the pace when she realised he was talking to Cora.
“Terrible patients,” he was saying as she arrived. “The pair of them, always misbehaving. Getting stuck into things they shouldn’t,” he said pointedly, eyes flicking to Verity as she joined them.
“Funny,” she said. “Theo says that about you.”
He laughed.
“And what kind of things shouldn’t you be getting stuck into?” Cora asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him with a slow, sultry smile.
“Oh, there’s always something,” Jesse said. “Got any ideas for me?”
Verity’s head snapped up at his tone, the smile that matched Cora’s. “No,” she said.
Cora blinked at her. “Excuse me?”
“No,” Verity said again, waving a hand between the two of them, trying to break whatever was building. Jesse laughed. Cora frowned.
“He’s trouble,” Verity said.
Cora’s grin only widened. “Funny. Getting into trouble sounds a lot like you.”
“Yeah,” Jesse said, delighted. “I’d say that fits.”
“Oh, you know about that?” Cora asked.
“Know about what?” Verity demanded.
“Is she poking around where she shouldn’t again?” Jesse asked, grinning.
“You don’t know the half of it,” Cora said, and the two of them laughed like old friends.
Verity scanned the crowd, praying for rescue, and spotted Adam.
“Adam!” she called, waving him over. He came jogging up with more colour in his cheeks than she’d seen in weeks.
“Hey...” he started, but Verity already had him by the arm, steering him toward Cora.
“Cora, this is Adam. Adam, Cora.”
Adam laughed. “Wow. Subtle.”
Cora looked him over, unhurried. “You came into the café.”
“Yeah.” Adam rubbed the back of his neck. “Bad week.”
“You’re looking all right now,” Cora said, and the smile she gave him was genuine.
Verity expected Jesse to keep teasing, but he’d gone quiet, staring past them toward City Hall. Through the crowd, to the steps and the lone vampire who stood atop them.
The festival might as well have not existed for the perfectly blank expression on Petra’s face. She watched her citizens. Emotionless. Still. Hollow. If not for the breeze catching her hair, she might have been mistaken for a statue.
“The witch has landed,” Jesse murmured.
“Don’t say that,” Verity said, giving his arm a slap.
“You’ve met her. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“Not the time. Have you got everything?”
He patted his jacket. “All set.”
“Good luck.”
He took a breath, and for a second, he looked a fraction paler than usual, the black ink at his throat, the small rose on his cheek, stark against his white skin.
“Right,” he said, eyes on the ground. Then he looked up, winked, and said, “See you on the other side,” before weaving through the crowd toward the ancient creature.
If Verity didn’t know better, she’d have thought he was nervous.
She turned back to Cora and Adam, who were discussing heading to the Golden Fleece for a drink, Cora letting her eyes wander over him with no subtlety whatsoever.
Verity had meant the introduction as a distraction from Jesse, but watching them now, she thought they might actually suit each other.
Both loud, both warm, both with big hearts and easy hugs.
“Coming?” Cora asked her, and Verity prayed the offer meant she was forgiven, or at least on her way there.
She was about to agree when a young woman stepped into their path.
“Verity?”
She froze. Chloe. She hadn’t seen her since that day at SubRosa.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Verity told the pair, nodding toward the pub.
Cora glanced at Chloe before nodding and the two of them headed off toward the clinking glasses and music that drifted through the pub’s open door.
“Hey,” Verity said. “Are you okay? Where’s Mabel?” At the club, the two of them had never left each other’s side; whatever else was true of Chloe, she carried a fierce, protective energy that made Verity doubt she’d leave the other girl alone for long.
“Can we talk?” Chloe’s cheeks were flushed, breath short, as though she’d run the length of the square to find her.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I need your help.” Chloe grabbed her hand and pulled.
“What’s happened?”
“It’s my sister. It’s that guy. The Blessed.”
“Abe?” Verity’s stomach dropped. What had Abe done? She’d let herself believe she could trust him, but the raw panic on Chloe’s face told her something was very wrong. So, she let herself be pulled, the noise of the crowd thinning as they moved toward the edge of the square and into a side street.
“What’s happened?” Verity asked again.
Chloe didn’t answer as they rounded a corner and the lights of the festival faded behind them. All Verity could hear now was the click of their footsteps and the rush of her pulse in her ears.
She pulled her hand free. Chloe froze, staring at the ground, unable to meet her eye.
“Chloe?” Verity’s voice came out harder this time. “What is going on?”
“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” a voice said behind her. “Somebody’s a thief.”
She turned. A man stood a few feet away, freckles scattered across a handsome face, a knot of hair high on his head. “And if there’s one thing I can’t abide,” he said, “it’s thieves.”
Clutching her bag, Verity stepped back, drawing breath to scream.
He lunged. Not for the bag.
A fist drove into her ribs, and the scream came out as a gasp of pain.
He grabbed her arm, twisted it up behind her back, clamped a hand over her mouth, forcing her down, his knee pinning her between the shoulder blades hard enough to steal the air from her lungs.
He tore the bag from her shoulder and tipped it out onto the ground.
Papers scattered across the cobblestones, caught by the breeze, and Chloe scrambled after them, snatching each one up, scanning it. Discarding it. Snatching the next.
“Well?” the man demanded.
Verity couldn’t see Chloe from the angle she was held, couldn’t read her face, but whatever the answer was, it wasn’t the one he wanted. He hauled Verity back up by the arm.
“Where the fuck is it?”
She drew a breath, white-hot pain blooming across her ribs. “Don’t know what you mean.”
He twisted her arm again, hard enough that her vision blurred.
“Where’s the stuff you stole?”
She laughed, a little hysterically, given the circumstances. It was laugh or cry, and she’d be damned if she cried in front of this man.
“Why would I have it?” she managed. “I’m not the one going to see Petra.”