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Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

DON'T SAY A WORD

‘G o!' I push at my father. He kisses my forehead then is gone, a dark blur down the drive. There's another blur and Bertrand arrives.

‘I think you should go inside, my lady.'

His tone is grim. My worry flares into full-blown panic, and I get to my feet. Bertrand places both hands on my arms and fixes me with his ice-blue gaze. ‘You know where to go, don't you, if…'

My eyes widen. ‘Do you think…?'

He shakes his head, his mouth tightening. ‘I don't know, Emelia.'

My fear increases at the use of my name. ‘The fortified rooms. I know.'

He nods, squeezing my arms gently before letting go and turning away.

‘Bertrand!'

He pauses. ‘I have to go to the gates, my lady.'

My hands twist together, my voice trembling. ‘Be safe.'

He nods again, then disappears. I go inside, quickly. More guards close the door, locking it.

‘Don't do that!' The guard with the key hesitates, turning to me in surprise. ‘My father, my mother, the, er, other guards. They're still out there. They'll need to get in when they come back.'

‘But, my lady…'

I stare in disbelief. ‘A locked door won't keep them out anyway, so what's the point of locking it?'

The guard nods. ‘Of course, my lady.' He unlocks the door again then turns, standing with his back to it. The second guard comes to join him, the two of them linking arms to create a barrier. There are guards at each of the long windows as well, both inside and out, a wall of silver and black against whatever might be coming.

I go over to a long bench and lie down, but can't get comfortable. I'm desperately tired, but can't sleep, not with my parents and Kyle out there. Giving up, I get up and go to one of the windows. I gasp. It looks as though half of Dark Haven is ablaze. There's another explosion, lights winking on and off. I sob, squeezing my eyes shut, praying to everyone and everything I can think of to keep them safe.

There's muffled shouting from outside and I run to the front door, trying to push past the guards. One holds me back, and I struggle. There's a sharp knock, a shouted command, and the other guard opens the door.

‘Let me go!'

Two figures race up the drive, a blur of black. One seems strangely bulky. As they reach the steps, I realise it's my father and Kyle, who is carrying…

‘Mother!' I scream, lunging against the guard's iron embrace. He releases me, finally. I run down the steps. There's dirt on my father's face, one shoulder of his jacket torn. Kyle's jacket is gone, his shirt ripped across the back. But my mother… She's slumped against Kyle, her clothing shredded and singed, her long black hair covering her face. ‘Mama…?'

‘Emelia, inside.' My father's voice is curt, miles away from the laughing closeness we shared less than an hour ago.

‘She's alive.' Kyle's face is smeared with soot and blood, black in the moonlight.

‘Then why isn't she moving?'

My mother lifts one pale hand, brushing the hair from her eyes. I gasp. Her face is cut, a slash down one cheek healing slowly. Whatever happened to her must have been serious.

‘Emelia.' She breathes the word, a whisper on the wind.

‘Inside! She needs to feed.' My father takes my arm, pulling me up the stone steps. Kyle and my mother follow. My father calls out. ‘Food, for my lady! Now!' The waiting guards, their faces drawn with concern, snap to attention, two of them racing off in a blur. My father throws open the doors to the sitting room, beckoning Kyle through. I follow them, hurrying to catch up, to see him gently laying my mother on the sofa. My father stands behind it, his hands clenched so tight on the carved wooden frame I can hear it splintering. And my mother, my world, is crumpled and burned, like a rose crushed by a careless fist. She sees me and smiles, though it's a weary smile, her onyx eyes dark.

‘Beloved girl,' she says, ‘I am fine.'

‘You are not!'

‘I will be.'

There's a sound and I turn to see a guard leading a young woman into the room. It's one of the blood dancers, just roused from sleep, her hair tousled, her face pale and soft without the usual make-up and glitter. When she sees my mother her eyes widen.

‘Oh, my lady!' Shaking her arm free, she runs to kneel next to the sofa, holding out her wrist. My mother takes it. I turn away, hearing the snap as my mother bites down, the lapping noises.

Kyle leans against the wall, his tattered shirt half-hanging from him.

‘What happened?' I wish I could go to him.

‘It was an ambush. We left the Safe Zone, the worst of it under control, we thought. Then they blew the petrol stores as we passed through.' Kyle's voice is rough, dry sounding. There are dark red patches on his skin, visible through the rips in his shirt.

‘But how – I mean, how did you…'

‘Survive? It was close. The blast almost got us and took out some of the humans. I grabbed one of them, forced his blood for your mother, so that she'd heal enough to get back here.'

‘Oh, Kyle.' I ignore the faint thread of disquiet. It doesn't matter what he did, or how he did it. He saved my mother. If I didn't love him already, I would love him for that alone. I want to go to him, to kiss him and give him my blood so he can heal. I turn to my father.

‘Can we… isn't there someone we can get, for Kyle? He's hurt…'

My father's head snaps up, his eyes narrowing. Fuck. He walks over to Kyle. ‘We need to talk.'

Kyle drops to one knee, his head down. ‘My lord, I shouldn't have taken Emelia off the estate without?—'

‘You should not.' My father folds his arms, his legs apart as he stands over Kyle. ‘Yet you did. Not once, but twice, it seems. However—' he glances at me ‘—I doubt very much you could have done so without her co-operation.'

‘Father, please, he's hurt.'

‘Injured because he was somewhere he wasn't supposed to be.'

‘Injured because he saved Mother!'

‘Who wouldn't have been there if not for him.'

‘That's crazy! You were already out?—'

‘Because we'd heard there was going to be trouble tonight and we wanted to stop it before it began! We did not need the added complication of having to look after you!' my father snaps at me, the words becoming a growl.

‘It was all my idea. And he did save Mother. You'd both have been hurt if he wasn't… if I hadn't… um.'

‘She's right.' My mother's voice is stronger. She sits up, one delicate hand to her mouth wiping the last traces of her meal away, the slash on her cheek almost healed. The blood dancer kneels next to her, my mother's other hand resting on her shoulder. ‘If we'd both been there, Aleks, we'd have been killed. Kyle called a warning just before the petrol went up – it saved most of the guards. As well as me.'

My father goes to my mother. The blood dancer moves out of the way, staggering as she gets to her feet. Father kneels, biting his finger, using his blood to heal the last of the slash across Mother's cheek, the gesture intimate. I look away. Kyle still kneels, his head down. I rest my hand on his shoulder. He turns his head, silver eyes bright in the half-light, and kisses my wrist. I take in a breath.

‘Let me help you up,' I say.

‘I'm fine,' he says, his voice faint. He pushes himself to standing. It's all I can do not to hug him.

‘Emelia, move away from him.'

Oh, no.

‘Father—'

He's sitting on the sofa with Mother. She isn't looking at me. I swallow and step away from Kyle, who has gone very still.

‘Kyle, you are relieved of duty at this time. As to what the future will bring, that is to be decided. Perhaps a stint at one of the towers?'

‘Father!' I try not to shriek, rage burning my throat. ‘It was all my idea, all my fault, you can't?—'

‘Silence!'

I take in a shuddering breath. Kyle hasn't moved. The blood dancer is wide-eyed in the corner of the room. Her wrist is still red where my mother fed, and my hand goes to my elbow, remembering the threading pain of the guard feeding from me. Two of the guards have moved closer. Shitshitshit.

‘The facts are this.' My father turns his attention to Kyle. ‘You were supposed to be gone to Mistral by now, but for some reason,' his gaze flicks to me, ‘you are still here. Then you took Emilia off the estate. I don't care how much she begged you, or what she promised you. You have disobeyed my direct orders. You were employed—' his voice rises ‘—to keep her safe. You answer to me, and to her mother, in that regard. Do you understand?'

Kyle nods. ‘Yes, my lord.'

He looks so beaten; my heart bleeds for him. I hold my breath, though I'm screaming inside. I can't believe this is happening.

‘However—' my father's voice softens a touch ‘—there is the circumstance of you saving my wife, and several of our guards. Tell me, how was it you were able to warn them?'

I go cold. What the fuck?

‘I caught a glimpse,' Kyle says, his voice monotone. ‘One of the humans, behind a silo. An error on their part, my lord. So I called out a warning.'

‘Lucky for you that you did,' says my father. ‘It might save you from being sent back to the pits, at least.'

Kyle's head comes up, his eyes wide. ‘I'm sorry, my lord. Truly. I do not wish, I mean, I can't?—'

‘No! You can't send him back there!' The words tumble out, despite my father's warning. I know I'm supposed to be Emelia Raven, daughter of a great house, expected to mate well and continue our line. But I'm human, and I love him.

My mother's mouth twists. In one swift movement, my father is standing in front of me. He's all ash and gold and granite, fury in his eyes.

‘I will not ask you to be quiet again. Do not make things worse.'

I can hardly breathe. Was it only an hour ago that he'd hugged me, that we'd laughed together on the steps? Tears spill down my face. I don't wipe them away, a small act of defiance as my existence closes around me like a velvet shroud. I will never forgive him.

‘Penelope, take her out of here.'

My father doesn't look at me. Kyle does, though, his silver eyes holding mine as my mother takes my arm. Her grip firm, she leads me from the room, two guards falling into step behind us. I'm too shocked to cry out, my breath heaving in my chest as I stagger along the hallway, my mother's pace unrelenting.

‘Mama, stop,' I sob. ‘Please.'

My mother stops. She takes in a deep breath. ‘How could you?'

‘What?'

‘ How could you? ' She turns on me, her hair flying, the shreds of her dress swirling. There's a streak of red on her perfect cheek, more in her eyes. ‘Leaving us like that! What if something had happened? If we'd lost you, we wouldn't have even known what happened to you. Our precious daughter, lost forever.'

‘What about all the others who've been "lost"?' Hurt lances my chest; anger bubbles up, spewing out of me. ‘They're all someone's daughter, son, husband, wife. Not just casualties, not just food.' I spit the last word.

‘Emelia—'

‘They're people! No wonder they're rebelling!' Snot clogs my nose, my breath hitching. ‘Do you even know what their lives are like? I know you know what their deaths are like, though. I saw you, at the Moon Harvest. I saw what you did. What you are .' I spit the words, gulping another sob, rubbing at my face with the back of my hand. ‘ That's why I left. Because I don't want to be Raven if that's what it means!' My mother's hand goes slack, dropping from my arm.

‘Emelia. I-I'm sorry. I?—'

‘That's what Father said earlier, when we were talking, he said that you'd made mistakes with me. But now you're sending Kyle away and I'll never get to see him again!' The guards are standing to one side, studiously ignoring us. My mother's mouth is a perfect ‘o', her dark eyes brimming with red.

‘He has to do this.'

‘Who? Father? You are Raven, not him! You should decide! Decide what's best for me! ' I jab my chest with my hand. ‘Why does he have to be sent away?'

‘Because he disobeyed us and put you in danger! Whatever Kyle is to you, Emelia, he's a Raven guard first and foremost. He's lucky to escape death for what he did. Believe me when I tell you your father is being lenient, and that he is being so for both our sakes.'

I stare at her. Darkness pools around us, her words fallen into it like ripples in an endless pond of night. If I could burst into flames, I would, burning my pain and anger away. I can't lose Kyle, not like this.

But there's nothing more I can do.

‘I'm going to my room.'

She touches my arm, her hand cool. ‘Will you come and sit with me a while? I think we should talk.'

‘I don't want to talk.'

Her hand drops from my arm. I turn away, heading for my room. She doesn't follow.

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