Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
BLOOD AND DARKNESS
I stretch up on tiptoes, my hand scrabbling across the high shelf, raising a cloud of dust that makes me sneeze.
‘Bless you.’
I whirl, waving my hand in front of my face. Michael stands in the doorway of the War Room, looking infuriatingly handsome in a loose white shirt tucked into dark trousers, his blond hair damp and pushed back.
‘Do you need a hand?’ He saunters over to me, and I try not to remember how he looked earlier, shirtless with sword in hand, moving through the Morningstar.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Are you?’ He smiles, his stormy gaze darkening, then stretches up, his scent and heat so tantalisingly close, and grabs the book I was trying to reach. It must be how annoying he is that makes my breath come faster, makes me feel as though I might explode.
‘Yes,’ I mutter. If I keep lying to myself, maybe eventually I’ll believe it.
‘I’m not.’
‘What?’ I look up.
‘I want you, E. I miss you.’ He takes my hand, his fingers twining with mine as he lifts it to his lips.
‘We can’t.’ A breath of resistance.
‘Why? Because of your prince?’ He drops my hand, his brows drawing together. ‘I don’t care how many times he kisses you, or how he makes you feel. Didn’t I make it clear how I feel, when I came back for you?’
‘You didn’t come back just for me.’ So hard to talk when he’s so close to me.
‘Oh, I did. But if you don’t believe me, perhaps you’ll believe this.
’ He leans in, his heat and scent surrounding me.
‘I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you, leaning against the wall in the café.
I worried for you, every moment, after I lost you at the market that night.
And when I found you again, it felt like a piece of me had been restored.
When I kiss you, I want to keep doing it for ever.
And when you’re in danger, even for a moment, I want to tear the world apart to make you safe again. You are everything to me, Emelia.’
I’m going to die, right here. I lean on the shelf, because if I don’t, I’ll fall.
‘We—’
‘—can’t be together? I can’t think of a single damn reason why not.’
‘Emelia, Michael. You are needed.’
I gasp. Michael steps back from me, and it’s as though warmth leaves my world. My father stands in the doorway, his arms folded, brows drawn together.
‘Varin is on his way,’ he says. ‘There’s something you need to see.’ He comes into the room, pulling down a screen on one wall. Varin arrives a moment later, all cool elegance in black silks, his long hair tied back.
I’m still reeling from Michael’s declaration.
I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you.
Our meeting at the café, when I was in the Safe Zone with Kyle and Ruth took me out for the day. How little I knew of anything, back then. But I knew there was something special about him.
My father presses a button, and a video starts playing. All thoughts of Michael leave me. It’s the Channel Islands project. I recognise the ferry port, the town centre. And there’s a glimpse of me, riding in the open-sided vehicle with Sophie and Jane, Andrew at the wheel.
‘The Channel Islands project, seen as controversial in some vampire circles, was nonetheless a valiant effort by the soon-to-be-crowned Raven to promote her human-centred agenda ahead of her coronation.’ The voice of the vampire newsreader, visible at the bottom left of the screen, is smooth and polished.
‘However, reports are coming in of illegal activity in and around the islands.’ Another video, this one jerky, as though the person taking it was running.
A moonlit cove and a small boat pulled up on the shore.
Climbing out of it, vampires, masked and dressed in dark clothing.
‘They’re here,’ a male voice gasps, excited. ‘Let the games begin.’
The camera pans briefly, and I catch a glimpse of a face I recognise. Also dressed in dark clothing, a blade clasped in one scarred hand. It’s Andrew.
‘What the hell is this?’ Michael’s voice is raw.
‘It’s an illegal hunt. On the Channel Islands. Humans letting vampires ashore, unleashing them on the population.’ Varin’s voice is tense.
‘It’s Andrew.’ I cannot believe the betrayal.
‘Yes.’ My father is terse, his arms still folded. ‘I thought you’d recognise him.’
‘Who’s Andrew?’ Michael directs the question to my father, but I answer.
‘One of the leaders of the North Wind. The one who sat in this very room, and told a sob story so I would give him my island project!’ Anger bites into me like acid. ‘We should shut the whole fucking thing down.’
‘I understand you’re angry.’ My father’s voice is quiet. ‘As am I. However, there are other things to consider. Take a moment.’
The way he says it, I know he’s reminding me of our lessons. My mother isn’t here at the moment – she’s gone for a dress fitting – which puts me, as the anointed heir, in charge. It’s a heady feeling. But it’s also one of great weight. Whatever I say next will happen.
In battle, do not act in haste. Take a moment to consider your next moves. Then choose.
I could shut the whole thing down now. Funnel all the humans into Safe Zones, punish Andrew and whoever else is involved in a variety of gruesome ways.
And then I’d be back where I started, with rebels in the Safe Zones who have a whole bunch of new reasons to be angry with the House of Raven.
I’m still working on ideas for different community models, but don’t have anything concrete.
‘He’ll know that the video is public, if it’s on the news. So, they’ll be waiting to see what happens next. As will everyone else. Damn! Can they not see that this kind of thing is just going to make it harder for me to change things?’
‘There’s another possible angle to this.’
I glance at the carnage onscreen again. The boat, and the black-clad vampires. Shit. Of course.
‘You think this is who has been attacking the Safe Zones and the nomad communities. They’ve been capturing humans to hunt.
So not Reapers, then.’ The attacks on Safe Zones are still happening, though not as often, thanks to our increased guard presence.
They’ve been relegated to an occasional mention in the news cycle.
I guess a bunch of humans disappearing or being murdered doesn’t mean much to vampires.
‘It’s a possibility,’ Varin says, frowning. ‘Though we cannot rule out the Reaper threat.’
‘There is no Reaper threat,’ Michael says, his jaw tight.
‘No? Even though they can move in daylight?’ I’ve been meaning to tell my father about this. Now seems an appropriate time, gauging by the astonished exclamations from both him and Varin. Michael glares at me.
‘At the Gathering, when I went outside during the day, I saw them. We saw them.’ Oops. I hadn’t exactly mentioned that I’d seen Michael that day in the snow. I tell the rest of the story.
‘Darkness, Emelia!’ My father bangs his hand on the table. ‘You were unguarded!’
‘She had me, sir.’ Michael folds his arms, his grey eyes dark. ‘And, as I say, Reapers are not the threat you think them to be. I think it more likely to have been illegal hunters attacking Safe Zones. The attacks were all near the water, correct?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘That bothered me, too. Why would they attack the shorelines, rather than the edge of the forest, if they were Reapers?’
‘It makes more sense that it was humans and vampires travelling from the islands, rather than coming from inland,’ Michael says.
I shake my head. ‘Except the North Wind weren’t on the Channel Islands when the first attacks happened. I agree, though, it could still be linked to the hunts.’ There’s something else, though. A clue that’s eluding me.
‘So, what do we do?’ My father directs the question to me. Everyone else is silent. Again, the weight of power descends, like a heavy cloak. I chew my lip, considering.
‘We pull Andrew off the island, and anyone else we can identify in the video. Make sure they’re punished appropriately.
We also run regular patrols, checking for any illegal activity, as well as figure out where the loading point is on the mainland.
We make all this public, put out a statement.
Privately, we trace the pathway back further, see if we can get to the heart of who’s organising this.
We’ve already got extra guards in the Safe Zones, so hopefully that will deter further raids. ’
My father nods, his granite expression softening. ‘Good. Why do you want to keep the investigation private, though?’
He knows why. He just wants to make sure I do, as well.
‘There are enough people in this realm, including in the twelve families, who think hunting is natural. There are also humans, and vampires, who make a lot of money from participating. Andrew might have got involved as a source of funding for the North Wind, especially once Mistral was killed. I can say I don’t allow hunts in Safe Zones or vampire-free zones, but that’s as far as I can go, especially with how unstable things are until I take the crown.
That’s the focus. Then, once I’m officially the Raven, I can make more decisive moves. ’
‘Good.’ My father is still serious, but there’s warmth, now, in his golden gaze. ‘Let’s make it so.’
‘Varin.’ My champion nods. ‘Will you coordinate the removal of the hunters from the islands? Michael, we’ll need to talk about punishment, and what form it might take.
’ The word catches in my throat, remembering his father kneeling in front of my mother, like an avenging angel.
But there will be no Moon Harvest this time, no blood and darkness.
‘I can help with that, too,’ my father says. ‘And your mother will need to be informed when she returns.’
A short while later I leave the War Room, feeling wrung out.
Punishment has been agreed, Raven guards dispatched to break apart the hunts.
A statement is being prepared for the press.
All I can do, really. Now I need to feed, and perhaps go for a walk to clear my head.
But, as I head down the hallway, a hand catches my elbow.
I turn, expecting to see Joaquin. But it’s Michael.
‘What do you want?’ The words snap out more fiercely than I mean.
His brow lowers. ‘We have a conversation to finish.’
‘We do not.’ I keep my voice low, aware of nearby guards, of other ears that could be listening. ‘At least, not here.’
‘Then when? Where?’ His hand is warm on my arm.
‘I don’t know.’ My voice gets louder on the last word.
He leans in closer, almost as though he’s going to kiss me. My heart skips a beat. But all he does is murmur the words ‘I’ll be waiting, then,’ before releasing me and walking away.
I watch him go, my breath catching in my throat. Then I realise Bertrand is waiting, and turn on my heel, walking in the other direction. After about ten minutes of pacing the long hallways, I realise I left the book I wanted in the War Room. With a sigh, I head back there, Bertrand still in tow.
When I open the door, the room is dark. That’s odd. I’m sure we left a candle lamp on. There’s enough light from the hallway to gild the relief map on the table, the faint glitter of blades on the wall.
‘I won’t be a moment,’ I say to Bertrand, taking a step into the room. I touch the switch but nothing happens. Something moves in the shadows. I turn, but the door is pulled shut behind me, separating me from Bertrand. I hear him cry out. And I’m in darkness.
I’m also dead.