Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
A FEW MISSING SHEEP
I blink at the bright sky, pulling my jacket more tightly around me. Frost crackles beneath my boots, my breath puffing clouds in the icy morning air. Mist fills the hollows, wreathes the dark trees, stretches ghostly fingers across the shimmering landscape. It’s beautiful.
I’m supposed to be getting ready to leave.
I woke early, heading straight down to the practice ring for another session with Varin.
He’s teaching me basic self-defence as well as sword fighting, and I spent an hour trying to take a wooden dagger from him, my fingers throbbing, my arms and shoulders aching.
Afterwards, though, instead of going to my room to pack, I headed outside through the dancers’ quarters, careful not to let any stray fingers of light into the shuttered house.
I glance back at it now, the honey-coloured stone glowing against the silver-blue morning, towers stark against the opalescent sky.
I spent so many years in darkness, only venturing out to watch the occasional sunrise. My time in the Safe Zone helped me overcome that conditioning, the feeling that, somehow, it’s dangerous for me to be outside during the day, even though I know I’m safer now than I ever was at night.
I remember Ruth telling me, after the long night when Kyle carried me through darkness to safety, that we needed light.
I saw her a couple of times, when I lived in the Safe Zone.
The first time was at the market. She almost dropped the apples she was holding, one of them bouncing from her hands.
I caught it, bringing it back to her. Then I thanked her for all she’d done.
For refusing Kyle, when he wanted her help to deliver me to Mistral.
And for showing me around the Safe Zone, despite already knowing who I was.
The second time was for coffee, sitting at the café where Michael worked.
She skirted around things, asking me how I was, how I found life in the Safe Zone.
But I was direct. Told her why I was there, and what I wanted to do.
That she was part of what inspired me to choose the Channel Islands for my project, her comment made on a cold beach leading me there.
Her eyes filled with tears, and she pressed her warm hand on mine.
‘I’ll help you,’ she said. ‘If you want it. Just ask.’
So I took a deep breath and asked the one thing I’d been wondering, since the moment I realised she knew who I was. ‘Why didn’t you deliver me to the North Wind? I know you’re one of them.’
But she shook her head, frowning. ‘What makes you think I’m part of the North Wind?’
‘You … you knew Kyle. And you knew who I was. I thought…’
Her face creased with concern. ‘I might have known Kyle, but he had his own secrets. Had I known what he planned, I would have intervened further. He seemed to truly care for you.’
Yeah, he did. Shame it wasn’t true. It was Jessie he really loved. Or loved more than me, I guess.
I’m so glad we’re leaving tonight.
I’ve come to another realisation, as well.
If I survive the Challenge, my next step is to choose a consort.
The family line continues with me, if my parents don’t have another child, and I don’t have the luxury of waiting half a century for love like my mother did.
Besides, I tried love, and look where that got me.
I’ll choose with my head this time, not my heart.
Kyle is gone, and so is Michael. He made his choice.
It feels cold, but I can’t take any more heartbreak.
I think of my white coronation robes, waiting in the shuttered dark of the costume room, like a butterfly in a cocoon.
And, next to it, my mother’s lacy wedding gown, my great-grandfather’s chain mail.
War, power and love, all in one place. I hope to avoid one and gain the other. The third I need to let go.
Hands in pockets, I scuff through frozen leaves, past trees with tangled branches like dark lace, following the curve of the long driveway to the rear gates.
There are several entrances to the estate, including the main one, with its huge wrought-iron gates and raven-topped pillars.
There’s a second raven-topped gate to the side, the honey-coloured gatehouse a smaller replica of the main house, kept furnished for guests should the need arise.
Then there’s the rear gate, with the guardhouse where deliveries come in.
Where Kyle set up a ruse to get me off the estate, trading one secret for another.
I should go back. But I’m restless, as though trying to outrun my feelings.
My breakdown in the practice ring plays on my mind, even though I did nothing wrong.
It’s not surprising, I suppose. Only three months have passed since Kyle’s betrayal, I’ve lost Michael, Laurel is dead, and I now have to fight for my crown.
Perhaps I should have taken more time to process things. But time isn’t a luxury I have.
There’s a shift coach parked next to the guardhouse.
Huh. They usually collect people from the main house to take them back to the Safe Zone, not from here.
Perhaps they’ve changed the pick-up point.
I’m tempted to climb on board. But Michael is with his brothers now, not waiting for me at my little white house.
And Laurel’s blood stains the wooden floors.
There’s no going back for me. Only forward.
There’s movement at the door of the guardhouse.
A human comes out, dressed in rough, dark clothing, followed by someone in the light camouflage of our human guards.
I’m almost certain it’s the driver who brought Laurel and me here, the last time we travelled to the house together.
He looks both ways, pushing the human so they stumble towards the coach.
What the hell? I stay still, cold seeping into my boots.
The coach door opens, and both humans climb on board.
A few moments later, the engine rumbles, the coach slowly rolling out through the gates.
I wait until they’re out of sight, then head to the guardhouse.
The door is ajar. I push it open, curiosity curling in my gut.
Inside, is the small room I remember, a door leading to a second room, where once a human girl and I exchanged clothes so I could have a night of freedom.
The space is deserted but there’s a scent in the air, a human scent.
Water is running somewhere, and everything feels as though it’s just been disturbed, dust motes still settling.
Frowning, I open the door to the second room.
A pile of grey clothing lies on the floor, everything crumpled as though hastily discarded. I pick up the topmost one. It’s a sweatshirt, the Raven logo in black thread on the breast. It’s also still warm.
Gravel crunches, voices coming from outside.
Then I hear the creak of the outer door.
Shit. Something tells me I need to hide.
I quickly open another door, hoping it’s a cupboard.
But instead, it’s a tiny bathroom, the toilet still running as though recently flushed.
I press myself against the wall, leaving the door ajar.
‘How many today?’ A human voice, female.
‘Half a dozen.’ A male voice, somehow familiar.
‘We need to be careful. Too many, and they might start to notice.’
The male snorts. ‘Notice? I doubt it. A few missing sheep from a flock of millions. They barely acknowledge our existence.’
‘Some do. Thank God for those guards who see us as more than food.’
Guards? I remember Kyle telling the Raven guard, vampire like him, that he would keep his secret in return for keeping ours. But what the hell was the secret?
‘What about the daughter?’
‘What about her?’
I go cold. What about me? This better not be another rebellion. I hold my breath.
‘She’ll be Raven soon. If they let her. Maybe things will be different.’
My feelings swing between annoyance and sorrow at the hope in her tone.
‘She’s different, I suppose.’
‘You’ve met her, haven’t you.’
He has? I wonder why the voice sounds so familiar, but I daren’t move.
‘I have. She was nice. Polite kid.’
‘That’s it?’ The voices move further away, and there’s the creak of the door again. ‘She’ll need more than politeness if she expects to rule vampires. I’m surprised she’s still alive, to be honest.’
My fists clench.
‘She could change things for all of us.’
‘Or she could make them worse. If she survives.’
The door closes with a bang. I wait until all I can hear is the faint whistle of wind outside, then sag against the wall. She’ll need more than politeness if she expects to rule vampires.
Damn straight, I will. And I have no problem being impolite.