Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

AFTERMATH

T hree nights pass. The guests all depart, the Halloween decorations taken down. The house is strange and quiet. I'm confined inside, as per my mother's orders. It hasn't stopped me from going up to the roof, though, watching the guards patrol the perimeter fences. I wonder if Kyle is among them. He's been absent again, since the night of the ball, and my mind has played over a thousand scenarios as to why, and why he wouldn't tell me he was leaving again. I asked my mother, finally, but all she said was that he was on leave, and what did it matter anyway if I wasn't going anywhere. I hadn't pushed it, but it didn't mean I stopped thinking about him, lying awake during the long hours alone, reliving the sweetness of our last encounter, wanting it to happen again.

There's been one exception to my confinement. The ashes of the dead vampires were buried, with ceremony. One of them was Daniel, the young man from Lion clan. I'd thought it a sad thing, as I stood with my parents in the cold darkness under whispering trees, that he'd come all this way only to die here, caught up in a rebellion he was no part of.

My father was more badly injured than I'd realised, many of his bones broken as well as the burns. Vampires heal quickly, especially when they feed regularly. But burning is the most devastating injury to vampires – it's one of the only ways to kill them – and Father was alight for a second or so.

It hasn't stopped me from trying to prevent the Moon Harvest, though. At first, my mother was indulgent, listening to my concerns. But, as the nights pass, she's become less receptive to my pleas.

* * *

‘There must be another way!'

My mother is kneeling next to my father, who is lying on the sofa in the living room. Two of my parents' personal guards, their livery featuring flecks of red among the silver, flank the double doors. More guards wait outside. Father's almost completely healed, but I suppose they're not taking any chances. James, the blood dancer who'd carried Danae from the ballroom, is sitting in a chair, head back and long limbs limp against the cushions, blood at his wrist. My mother is gently dabbing the last faint patches of red on Father's face with a white cloth, the sweet scent of rosewater filling the room.

She sighs, leaning back on her heels. ‘This again?'

I frown. Yes, this again. ‘How is sacrificing twenty lives the right thing to do? Won't it make the rebels angrier? If Mistral missed one of their agents, he could miss another! I just don't?—'

‘Enough!' My mother places the cloth into a nearby silver bowl. ‘I've explained my decision. I don't wish to do so again. You see how your father is, what they did to him. We must be seen to respond, and to do so in such a way that it will dissuade others from trying again.'

‘But you can't just… kill people like that! Can't you put them in prison or something?'

‘You must listen to your mother. She is Raven, after all.' My father's expression is stern, but there's a tinge of sadness to his golden eyes. I get it. My mother's decree is now common knowledge, the attack on the seat of Raven fuelling news and gossip throughout the realm.

‘I'm not saying there doesn't need to be a response from us. But isn't there another punishment we can use? One that isn't so… er… wasteful?'

‘Mistral will ensure only rebels are selected. You don't need to worry. We don't need stock like that, anyway.'

‘They're not stock . They're humans. Like me.'

And there it is. The thing that's been bothering me. For the first time in my life, I'm realising what it truly means to be human, in this world that my family has created. I might be Raven, daughter of vampires, heir to half the planet, but no matter how much I'm paraded at Gatherings, festooned with jewels, or dance with princes at private parties, I'm human. Just like the people who are farmed into Safe Zones, who live in cages so others can feed. Who will be sacrificed, whether or not they committed any crime.

My parents are both staring at me. Oh for fuck's sake. Did they not realise?

I turn and walk out. My mother calls my name, but I keep walking.

Two guards fall into step behind me. I wish I could shove them through the wall. There's an ache in my chest, my breathing uneven, the guards keeping their distance from my excess of emotion. The rebellion has broken into my mind as surely as it broke into our house, the explosion in the ballroom starting a chain reaction in me. Time is running out, though, taking with it any chance I might have to stop the Moon Harvest. My impotence infuriates me – trapped on the estate, with few resources. A cage indeed, no matter how golden.

But I'm not entirely without resources.

When I reach my room, Bertrand is there. I stop when I see him. ‘Bertrand.' My voice cracks. ‘Is Kyle back yet?'

Bertrand nods to the guards following me. They both salute and leave, whooshing down the hallway.

Bertrand tilts his head, a faint smile on his face. ‘He is, my lady. He'll be feeding now, then on shift later. You'll see him when you wake, I believe.'

‘When I wake?' My heart is beating faster and I hate its traitorous dance.

‘Yes, my lady. It's near dawn, so I suppose you'll be sleeping soon. Unless you need to feed, of course.'

‘Er, no, I don't.' I'd eaten earlier, a lonely meal in the kitchen downstairs, the lights on bright in an attempt to dispel my gloom.

‘Well then. I'll be here until shift change, if you need anything further.'

‘Thank you.' I stand there for a moment, but can't articulate what I need and don't think it's Bertrand I need to tell, anyway. I slip into my room, closing the door. I sit at my dressing table, pulling my laptop towards me. I'm too wound up to sleep, even though I know it's close to dawn. I open the laptop, typing three words into the search engine.

The North Wind.

A list of websites pops up. I've already been through most of them, mainly vampire-run news sites talking about the rebellion. It seems to be confined to the UK, for the time being. I scroll through the listings. An attack on a vampire nightclub in Watford. A riot in Oxford. Damage to Raven holdings in Edinburgh. And, of course, the attack on Father. The list goes on.

I'm desperate to know more about what's driving them. Oh, I have an idea, of course I do. But to be forced to a point where rebellion is their only option? Fighting vampires leads to only one thing, when you're human. Death.

I know. I'm still going to give away the whole Raven thing, the privilege, the darkness, the guards that constantly surround me, in exchange for a human life, lived in sunlight. But people can't just come into my house and try to blow up my family.

Again there's that feeling of holding two opposing truths. Part of me is angry, angry at the threat to my family. While the other part of me understands, more and more, that being human is a death sentence in my world. My family name protects me, but that's all. Without that, I'd probably be long dead. It's an uncomfortable feeling, as though the walls of the house and all that protected me are gone, leaving me to navigate an unfamiliar space. My endless glittering nights feel like a dream. I'm awake now. I need to understand what I'm leaving to, what it's going to be like where I'm going. Perhaps I can still make a difference, somehow.

I scroll through the North Wind results again, but there's nothing new. Just more videos of vampires reading the news, images of fire and smoke drifting through the night. Sighing, I sit back, rubbing my eyes. I'd hoped to find something more, some way I could understand what was happening, or even contact them. I might not be able to stop the Moon Harvest, but perhaps there's a way to avoid further violence. I rest my head on my hand and go over the events of the ball again, in case I've missed anything. My gaze goes to the garden, dark trees swaying in the November breeze, a faint pale glow in the sky harbinger of dawn.

It comes to me then.

Oh my god and darkness.

It's a nursery rhyme.

That's what the blood dancer had said, on the night of the party. A human nursery rhyme. Very smart, when I think about it. Vampire children have their own rhymes. And, when my parents control everything, when our agents are no doubt scouring the internet for any clue that might lead them to the rebels, what better way to hide than behind something so innocuous?

I pull up the search engine bar and type again. Popular Nursery Rhymes.

Another list of results appears. I scroll through them, clicking occasionally when something looks promising, but most of the links are broken, or contain a few rhymes. Maybe I'm wrong.

I keep scrolling.

Then I see it. The subject reads Popular Rhymes for Boys and Girls . Underneath, there's a single line of text. ‘And we shall have snow.'

My hand trembles as I click the link.

Fuck.

The Raven logo appears onscreen, black and silver on a white background. But it's been slashed with bloody red lines, a slogan written beneath in jagged black lettering. ‘The North Wind Will Blow.' My stomach clenches. I click on the logo and a verse appears, replacing our tattered insignia.

The North wind will blow,

and we shall have snow,

and what will poor Raven do then?

The words onscreen fade into a scattering of black dots, and a photograph appears. I gasp. It's my father. Once again, it's been slashed to red ribbons. Beneath it are his name, and the words ‘ Attack attempted: October 31st. More to come. ' His photo fades to be replaced by one of my mother, her beauty shredded by cruel red claws. I hold my breath, but there's nothing written beneath her image other than her name. It fades, and a third image appears. This one is a drawing, though, of a young girl with black hair in plaits, wearing a blue dress. Beneath it are the words. ‘ Emelia Raven. Photograph unavailable. Take on sight. ' What the fuck does that mean? Take my photo? Or take… me? The drawing doesn't look much like me, though. Which may work in my favour. It disappears, to be replaced by more Raven photographs, different members of the family. Including Mistral. Some images have dates beneath them, others just names. But that's it.

There's nothing else. No way of contacting the North Wind, or any more about what they want. Just the revolving carousel of photographs, both a threat and a message. I click on the page a few times, just in case, but nothing. Then a little spinning Raven logo appears – I click on it, and a box pops up, asking for password details. I slump back in my chair.

Onscreen, the images continue to revolve. All the Ravens listed, including Father, are still alive, as far as I know. I realise though, as the images turn, that they're all minor members of the family, other than Mistral and my parents. Some of them I haven't seen in years – they don't even come to the Gatherings.

I frown at the screen. Something doesn't seem quite right, but I can't put my finger on it. If I want to know more about the North Wind, I need to find them. Yeah, I know. Mistral and his ‘agents' are on it. But I don't trust Mistral as far as I can throw him. My plans haven't changed – I still don't want to be the next Raven – but I can't just stand by and do nothing, not when there's a chance I could make a difference. After all, I have one advantage that no other Raven has.

I'm human.

The shutters start to rumble, the pale square of garden disappearing behind dark metal with a final shuddering clang. My mind whirring, I get changed for bed, flopping onto the pillows. As I do there's a faint crackling noise. What the hell? I sit up and pull the pillow towards me. Beneath it is a single piece of paper, cream against the white linen sheet.

I pick it up. The writing is black, sharp, letters scratched into the paper.

Emelia,

I've missed you. You smell like violets and taste of roses. I can't wait to see you again, and finish what we started. Will you have me, my lady?

Kyle

Will I have him?

Well. Apart from the fact his timing is perfect, my heart is pounding so hard I'm surprised Bertrand can't hear it through the walls.