Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

SUNRISE

M istral leans in close, his brilliant blue eyes crinkling at the corners. He's devastatingly handsome, and he knows it. He twirls me around the room, but goes too fast at first and I clutch at him as my feet leave the floor. He laughs.

‘My dear Emelia, forgive me! You're so like your mother, I'd forgotten your, er… condition.'

‘My condition?' I raise my eyebrows. Thankfully, he's slowed down, my feet touching the floor once more.

‘Your sublime humanity.' He makes it sound like a caress. I don't give a shit. All at once he's not that attractive. I try to pull away from him.

‘I would have thought it fairly obvious. I'm not that much like her.'

‘Don't sell yourself short,' he says, his lips close to my ear, holding me so I can't move. ‘You have more of Penelope in you than you think. I do think my son would like you.'

‘I've already met them both.' I didn't care for either of them, both arrogant blonds like their father.

‘I mean my other son, my third,' he says.

His third son? I frown.

‘I don't believe you've met him.' He's still so close to me, his voice a purr. ‘He's… away at the moment. I think you two would get along.'

The music changes, becoming slower, more sensuous. Uh-oh. All around us, couples are getting closer. My father appears, his hand on Mistral's shoulder. ‘If I may,' he says. I make a face. I don't want to dance with Mistral to this music, but I don't in a million years want to dance to it with my father . Still, there's nothing either of us can do. Mistral releases me, bowing.

‘It's been a pleasure, Emelia.'

‘Thank you.' My father takes my hand but, thank darkness, instead of dancing he leads me through the crowd to the buffet table. Perfect. I do need wine, after all. I pick up a glass, pale golden in the candlelight.

My father grins. ‘Are you all right?'

‘I'm fine,' I say. ‘Why?'

He raises his eyebrows and nods towards my glass. Shit. I don't drink in front of my parents. I'd grabbed the glass without thinking.

‘I know you've been raiding the wine cellar since you were fourteen. At least you're old enough now.'

My mouth drops open. I take a breath, about to deny everything. Then I realise there's no point, if he already knows. I take a sip, then another. Mistral is still on the dance floor, wrapped around a blood dancer, his mouth at her throat. My father follows my gaze and his nostrils flare.

‘You seemed annoyed, dancing with Mistral.'

‘Oh, he was just being an idiot,' I say. ‘He said he forgot I was human, then he was going on about how I looked like Mother, and how his son would like me.'

‘His son?' My father's head is tilted, his voice soft.

‘Yes, it was weird. I thought he only had two sons but he mentioned a third. He said he was away, that I wouldn't have met him.'

‘Really.' It's not a question. ‘Emelia, do not dance with Mistral again. I'll do my best to keep him occupied, and you do your best to stay partnered. Will you do this for me?'

I nod, surprised. ‘Yes, of course. Father, what?—'

‘Don't worry for now. Just do as I ask.'

I pause. He looks at me. ‘What is it?'

‘The North Wind,' I whisper.

A curious expression crosses his face, his mouth curving, his eyes narrowing. He shakes his head, slowly, once. ‘Later, Emelia.'

My mother arrives, leading a young vampire by the hand. His dark skin has a rosy tinge, his eyes bright. He's obviously well fed. I shoot her a look.

‘Emelia, have you met Daniel? He's from Lion clan, visiting all this way! Daniel, this is my daughter, Emelia Raven.'

There's surprise in Daniel's eyes as he realises what I am. My parents, and their iron will, have contained the gossip about me well enough, I suppose, at least keeping it within our realm. Or maybe nobody cares enough to talk about it, figuring I won't last long enough to become Raven anyway. He recovers, though, and is perfectly courteous, bowing to me. ‘It's a pleasure to meet you,' he says, holding out his hand. ‘Shall we dance?'

And so it goes for the next few hours. I dance until my feet are sore, my parents taking turns to introduce me to partners, some willing, some not so, but not wishing to offend their hosts. Mistral doesn't get near me, our most luscious dancers trailed before him, an endless distraction of scented flesh. I keep my anti-feed topped up, keep my ears open for any more talk of rebellion, even going so far as to ask a couple of my dance partners, but no one else seems to know or even be interested in the idea of a human uprising. I suppose it's not surprising. I hadn't considered it myself.

Until Kyle.

Where in darkness is he? As I move from one set of arms to another, all I can think about is how it felt to dance with him, how I wish he was the one twirling me around the dance floor, even though I know it's not possible.

Finally, I excuse myself, needing a rest. I thank my latest partner and, when he releases me, head for the edge of the dance floor. I'm surprised to realise I've enjoyed the dancing after all. Or maybe I'm just drunk – I've had more wine since my dance with Mistral, possibly a little too much. Outside, the moon is low. Perhaps it's time to go, before the sun rises and the shutters fall, the guests retreating to the fortified rooms then resuming their dancing once the house is secured.

‘Happy Halloween, my lady.'

My stomach lurches. I turn. Kyle is standing a couple of feet away, dressed in his Raven uniform, hands clasped behind his back. He bows.

‘A-and to you.' I keep my voice cool, smoothing my hands down my dress. But my heart is pounding, a frantic beat.

‘You look nice.' He inclines his head, his silver eyes bright.

‘Thanks. You, too.' You, too? It must be the wine talking. Pull it together, Emelia. He wears the same uniform every day. However, I'm not lying. I'm desperate to kiss him.

He grins, like he knows what I'm thinking. ‘Have you had fun?'

‘It's been fine.' Even though you weren't here.

There's silence between us. I remember dark hallways, his mouth on mine. ‘Where have you been?'

His grin widens. ‘Did you miss me?'

Ass. ‘I just wondered, that's all.' I try to think of ice and cold water, of frozen winter, wishing for a tenth of my mother's cool glamour.

‘I was reassigned unexpectedly. Mistral's orders.' He inclines his head. ‘I'm sorry I couldn't tell you.'

‘Reassigned?' I don't care if Mistral ordered it. I thought he was my personal guard.

‘Just something that needed sorting out.' He moves closer. ‘I missed you,' he says, his voice lower.

I stare at him. It's as though the entire ballroom is revolving around us, like we're at the eye of the storm. ‘I'm glad you're back.'

He moves closer again, so I have to lift my chin to look at him. It feels like electricity sparks between us. If he touches me… Somebody bumps into me and I blink.

Kyle's eyes widen and he steps back. ‘Can I get you anything, my lady?' His hands are clasped behind his back, but there's a gleam in his eye.

‘Actually, I was just about to go back to my room.'

He raises an eyebrow. ‘Shall I escort you?'

I nod, finding it hard to breathe. ‘Yes. I just need to let my parents know I'm leaving.'

He steps aside, though he's still close enough I have to brush against him as I walk past. I spot my mother, dancing with my father, and make a beeline for them. I touch my mother's arm. She turns, pulling my father to a stop.

‘Um, I'm tired and it's almost dawn, so I might go to my room. I'll come back down later, if that's all right?'

My mother's cheeks are flushed, her onyx eyes sparkling. My father looks well, too, colour on his high cheekbones. Good. They've been drinking.

‘Of course,' my mother says. ‘Off you go.' She caresses my cheek, languorous and smiling.

‘Take care of her,' my father says, nodding to Kyle, who is just behind me. I daren't look at him.

‘Good evening.' I curtsey to them both then leave the ballroom, taking the quickest route possible through the crowd, leaving the glitter and blood behind. The straps of my sandals are cutting into my feet, and I can't wait to take them off. I can't wait to be alone with Kyle, either. He follows me, two paces behind as we pass beneath the gleaming Halloween tree, lights swaying gently. The silk of my skirt slides against my legs, my cheeks heating up as we ascend the stairs. Upstairs, the hallway is dark and deserted. I stop. There's a bench against the wall, padded silk and carved wood. I sit down.

Kyle stops too. ‘Are we still going to your room?'

I blush at how that sounds. ‘Just a sec,' I wave my hand. ‘I need to take off these damn shoes.'

He laughs. I take one off, kicking it under the bench.

There's a burst of laughter and two guests emerge from the room opposite, a blood dancer between them, her wrist to the mouth of the male vampire. All three glitter like fireflies in the dark. ‘Oops, sorry!' the female vampire giggles. ‘Don't let us stop you.'

‘Raven have the best dancers,' says the male, removing his mouth from the girl's wrist. His lips gleam dark with her blood. ‘Don't know what they put in them to make them taste so damn delicious. She looks a real treat, young man, you enjoy,' he goes on, clapping Kyle on the shoulder. ‘Make the most of Halloween.'

All three laugh again, their heads going back. They disappear down the hallway, the blood dancer stumbling. My mouth has dropped open. The club was one thing, but this… I've been dancing all night, been talking to my parents, making the rounds. I am literally wearing the Raven crest, in diamonds. Anyone with eyes should know who I am, surely?

‘What the fuck? I'm in my own house and they think?—'

‘Don't worry about them.' Kyle slants his silver gaze my way. He's leaning against the wall, his arms folded. I try not to stare at the muscles visible through his guard's uniform, the lean hips, the long legs. ‘Idiots, obviously. And drunk. I reckon that dancer had something extra added.'

‘But my parents don't?—'

‘Your parents might not. Your guests are another matter. It's easy to do.' He comes closer, bending as though to sit next to me. I gaze up at him, my mouth dry with anticipation.

Then he straightens, standing to attention. Another vampire appears, his shirt collar undone, bowtie hanging loose. There are a couple of blood spots on his shirt. I guess he's been feeding as well. What the hell is with all these people wandering about up here? ‘The ballroom this way?' he slurs.

‘Er, yes, sir. To the end of the hallway, then down the stairs and left. You can't miss it.' Kyle holds out his hand. With a burst of speed, the vampire flashes along the hallway.

I bend to take off my other shoe. The buckle is stiff and I struggle with it for a second, until it comes open.

And the sharp metal slices the pad of my thumb, drawing blood.

Shit.

Kyle's head turns, silver eyes wide. ‘Emelia?'

I stare at him, holding my injured thumb close to me. ‘I'm fine.'

‘Let me look.'

‘What!? No!'

He's there before I can stop him, kneeling, his hands on mine uncurling my fingers. Blood pools on my palm, its coppery scent in the air. He takes in a breath. I hold mine. He puts my thumb to his lips, his mouth closing over it, and I think I'm going to black out. He licks at my blood, his tongue tingling rough, taking every last drop. No one has ever done this to me, not like this. I've had scratches healed, my parents' touch gentle. But this is something else, something that tugs at my very core, need building in me. It's unbearably intimate, my whole body responding. Kyle brings my other hand to his mouth as well, sucking at the vestiges of blood, then bites his lip, taking a single drop of his own blood on the tip of his tongue. He presses it to my cut, healing it.

‘There.'

I can't breathe.

He moves closer still, his arms either side of me. Cool breath mists my lips. My heartbeat feels as large as the hallway, a thudding echo of noise. Forget control. I have none. He can have whatever he wants.

He smiles, his eyes a silver gleam. He says my name, the words dropping like stones into the deep pool of night. Sensation ripples from his touch, his breath cold fire on my skin. His eyes close and he inhales, breathing me in.

I gasp as his hand slides beneath the neckline of my gown, caressing me briefly. The scent of violets is overpowering. He kisses me, a quicksilver touch of the lips.

‘Perhaps we could,' he murmurs, his lips millimetres from mine, ‘go somewhere more private. Just for a little while.' His fingers trail up the side of my neck. I curl into his touch, every nerve-ending alive, feeling as though I might fly, or explode, screaming into the night, dissolving like sparking embers, flickering gold against the dark. Every hair stands on end, an ache deep inside me. I reach up, his hair slipping like silk through my fingers as I pull him in for a kiss.

I feel him smile, diamond-sharp teeth nipping me, his lips moving across my cheek, past my jawline to my neck. I am gone. Caution thrown to whatever wind passed by. He can do anything in this moment and I'll let him. How would I stop him, anyway?

Somehow, we end up in my room. Whether Kyle carries me or I drag him there, I don't know. As the door closes it doesn't matter. Nothing matters except his touch.

Kyle unfastens my dress, pushing the straps down, the soft fabric crumpled beneath us on the bed. His mouth is on my throat, his hand closing on my breast. There's a sharp nip on my neck and I flinch. At once he pulls back, eyes wide. His fangs are dropped, and there's a faint tinge of blood on one pale tip. My blood.

‘I'm sorry,' he whispers, sounding horrified. ‘I didn't mean to?—'

I reach a hand behind his head and pull him close, kissing him. ‘It doesn't matter,' I say. Nothing does. Not in this moment. Besides, from what I've read, this is a normal part of vampire intimacy. But he's still hesitating, so I flick my tongue against his lips. The response is immediate. He snarls, deep in his throat, pushing against me as he kisses me back, his tongue flickering.

My dress is down around my waist but he's still fully dressed, which doesn't seem at all fair. I try to reach the buttons on his shirt, but can't get my hand in quite the right place. He lifts his head.

‘Why are you wriggling so much?' There's laughter in the words and I giggle.

‘Sorry,' I whisper, ‘I was trying to undo your shirt.'

Both eyebrows go up. ‘Oh really?' He pulls back from me, undoing his top buttons and pulling the shirt over his head in one smooth movement. Wow.

His torso is perfectly muscled, pecs and six-pack outlined by faint candlelight, a subtle gleam to his skin. Every inch of him is cool against my heated flesh, my hands tracing his back as he kisses me, stars bursting behind my eyelids. I'm drowning in sensation, my hands tracing the curve of his backside, my dress sliding further down.

‘Emelia.' His kisses move lower and I think I might die. I lift my hips as he slides my dress away, his mouth soft on my stomach. There's a sharp knock on my chamber door and I jump, shaken from my passion. Kyle lifts his head, his hands still.

‘My lady.'

Shit. It's Bertrand.

‘J-just a minute,' I call out. Kyle is already up, moving in a blur as he gets dressed, shrugging on the silver and black jacket last of all. He goes to my mirror, running a hand through his hair, tugging his collar back into shape. I lie there, desire turning sour in my mouth, my breath returning to normal, sweat cooling on my skin. Eventually I sit up, pulling my dress back on, sliding the straps over my shoulders. Then Kyle is there, his arms around me, kissing me. He bites his finger and touches it to my throat, healing the small wound he made.

There's another knock at the door, this one harder than the last and we both jump. Shit. ‘Go in the bathroom,' I hiss, giving him a push. He nods and is gone, the door closing with a soft click. I grab my blanket and wrap it around me, hoping I look sufficiently sleepy. I open the door a crack to see Bertrand's worried face. Dear Bertrand. I hate lying to him.

‘Are you all right? Your mother said you came back to your room with Kyle, and I've been looking for him.'

I crinkle up my face. ‘Er, I did. But I've been here, dozing.'

Bertrand pauses. ‘I'm sorry to have disturbed you, my lady.' I feel awful. I open my door wider, so he can see in my room. He peers in over my shoulder, and I hope he thinks Kyle's violet scent is just anti-feed. He nods. ‘I'll leave you to it,' he says. ‘Let me know if you'd like to return to the ballroom later, though.'

‘Er, thanks. Um, I might just stay in here for a while.' I close the door and lean on it, blowing out a breath. That was too close. Kyle reappears from my bathroom.

‘I have to go,' he says, kissing me. ‘I'm sorry.'

‘S-sorry this happened?' My voice is raw.

‘No, never.' He kisses me again, gentle. ‘Trust me. I wish I didn't have to leave.'

I rest my forehead on his for a moment. ‘You do, though. Go on.' I give him a little push.

One last kiss, and he's gone.

I stare at the closed door, as though I might will him back to me just by wishing it. There's a rumbling noise, and I jump. The shutters. I open my door. The hallway is deserted, light through the long windows growing pale. I don't want to stay in my room.

I have a couple of minutes. Which is enough.

I start to run, my skirt billowing like wings as I race through golden pools of dawn. Everyone else is gone, retreating to the fortified rooms at the heart of the house, in case some stray finger of light were to catch them.

I reach the library as the shutters finally close, sealing the house against daylight. I dart inside, closing the doors as quietly as I can. There's wine here, hidden among the shelves, and music, old songs, dead voices from before the Rising. Remnants of all my lonely days, all the time I've spent entertaining myself, educating myself about how humans live, dreaming of possibility. But that's not what I'm here for.

I scan the shelves filled with paperbacks. I've read every book in here, some more than once. But there's a specific one I need. Interview with the Vampire . Pulling it from the shelf, I reach between the books until I feel hard metal under my fingers. I tug, stepping back quickly. The bookcase slides silently to one side, releasing a small cloud of dust. I wave my hand, my eyes scrunched closed. Through an opening lies a narrow flight of stairs, curving upwards.

It's no surprise that a house as old as this would have secret passages. This is the one I use the most, though.

I step inside and pull another small lever. The bookcase closes again, sealing me in darkness. My hands on the walls to guide me, I make my way up the steps until my head bumps against something hard. I reach up, releasing the latch, and push.

Light falls all around me.

I ascend the final few stairs and step onto the roof.

It's glorious.

The sky is striped with colour, gold and red and orange and turquoise, the sun a ball of fire on the horizon. Mist wreathes the trees, the landscape spread out like a half-remembered dream, golden and beckoning, the dark mass of forest stretching towards the faint shimmer of the Safe Zone.

This section of the roof is flat, an ornate stone fa?ade shielding me from below. I lean against it, resting my elbows on the edge, cool grit of stone against my skin. The little flame inside me, the one I felt in the ballroom, seems to respond, glowing as the light increases. My eyes fill with tears. It never fails to move me, whether sunrise or sunset, the turning of the world an endless wonder. Birds chirp in the woods as the sky brightens, ribbons of gold fading to blue. I shiver in the autumn chill, my bare feet curling against the stone. The distant Safe Zone is now a darker shadow, the lights that bound it in safety turning off as the sun rises. I can't believe it's a bad place to live, despite what Kyle says.

I sigh, my breath catching at the thought of him, of his hands and mouth on me. Of what might have happened if Bertrand hadn't come to the door when he did. I wonder where he is now, what he's doing, whether he's thinking of me. I don't care that he's a guard, that I'm the next Raven. I just want him. Not only to help me escape, but to stay with me, afterwards. I wonder whether we could make it work, a vampire and a human out in the real world. I wish he was here with me so I could tell him about my plan, ask him how he feels.

But he can't be. No one in the house can, other than the humans who live here as food. Even being out here feels wrong, my mother so cautious around light my entire life that, somehow, it's rubbed off on me. Even though I know daylight can't hurt me, there's part of me that wants to go back down, into the darkness. Yet a larger part of me rejoices in the feel of it on my skin, the strangeness of a sky not filled with stars. It's how things will be for me, every day, once I leave. My mouth twists, the landscape blurring. I cross my arms, rubbing my cold hands along them.

The party has started again, a faint thump of music coming from the now-shuttered ballroom. I should go back soon or I'll be missed, and I can't take that chance. No one knows I come up here, and I want to keep it that way. This is something just for me, and no one else. I make my way back down the stairs, closing the trapdoor, entering the cocoon of the library once more. I'm in a daze, swaying with lust and Kyle and the beauty of the morning. I'm about to sit down when there's a muffled booming noise followed by shouting, and the rapid thud of running feet. Then the library doors fly open and Bertrand's huge shape appears.

‘Go to your room, my lady. Now.'