Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

THE DANCE

M y feet pound the grass, my breath coming fast. My lungs feel about to burst, but I keep going. A vampire keeps pace with me, easily, and I speed up, a pulse of adrenaline carrying me along. I slam into the high fence, my hands gripping it before I slide down, panting.

‘Not too bad.' Kyle, barely a hair out of place, drops down to sit next to me. He hands me my phone. I look at it. Three minutes, twenty-six seconds. Almost a personal best time. ‘Not too bad at all,' he says, sounding almost approving.

But the unspoken words are there, hanging in the air. For a human.

I've been practising for a while. Running around the estate, keeping track of my time and distance. I know I'm getting faster, but I'm not fast enough, not yet. There's absolutely nothing stopping me from leaving the estate during the day, once I get past my parents and the guards inside. None of them could follow me, even if they wanted to. I could walk along the curving drive, open the huge gates, and step out into freedom. The problems, however, start there. This is the part of my plan I need help with.

I have to reach the Safe Zone by nightfall, or else I'm dead, stranded in vampire territory with nothing but a few vials of anti-feed between me and who knows what lurking out there. But I'm too far away. The driver all but confirmed it, last night. The drive to Dark Haven took about ten minutes, but the Safe Zone was another twenty-five minutes away. At the speed we were driving it's a good forty miles or so. No way I can cover that before sundown, especially now as the days get shorter, the long nights of winter drawing in. But time is ticking, and my birthday is in April. If I don't do it soon, I never will. I'll get caught up in the Raven machine, what little choice I have left taken from me as I'm marched towards the throne. There's the final Gathering, where I'll be anointed and choose my lieutenant, plus tours of the realm, ceremonies and rehearsals, the heir roll-out taking over my life. The night out at the Dome was just the start of it. And I couldn't even do that without being mistaken for food.

‘Thanks, by the way.' Kyle bumps me with his shoulder.

I glance at him. He's looking down, his long legs bent, hands hanging slack between them.

‘For what?' I know, of course, but a small petty part of me wants to hear him say it. I'm trying to be nice, even though he infuriates me beyond measure. I'd opened my bedroom door with a smile, knowing he'd be waiting outside. It had been hard to maintain, though, when he'd frowned at me, scoffing, when I asked him to help me time my running. He'd done it, eventually, though I'd basically had to order him to do it, all the while trying to be sweet, to be nice. So he can give me this.

‘For not telling your parents about what I did.' He still won't look at me.

I start to get annoyed, despite myself. ‘What did you do?'

He snorts. ‘Come on. That was a pretty close call last night.'

Last night. Anger escapes me, despite my efforts, the sting of his words in the woods biting at me again. ‘Yes, it was! What the hell were you thinking, taking me into the Great Forest?! And a Reaper gang ?'

‘I didn't think there would be anyone there.' He looks at me then, moonlight catching the faint glitter of his eyes. ‘The waterfall is one of my favourite places. I… wanted to share it with you.'

‘Why?'

‘Does it matter?' He shakes his head. ‘Forget it. Forget I said anything.' He looks into the distance, his jaw tight.

I want to scream, but I hold myself back, pulling my anger back inside. ‘Thank you for taking me there,' I say, trying to smile. I have to make this work. He might be the most infuriating person I've ever met, but something became very clear to me last night. If I'm going to get to the Safe Zone in one piece, Kyle is the only one who can help me. He got me over the fence last night, brought me through the forest safely. And I need him to do it again.

I know. He is completely irritating. But he's also the one chance I have, the only person on the estate who might actually be able to do this for me. I've thought about it ten different ways, but I can't see any other option. Kyle takes me over the fence, keeps running until we reach the Safe Zone. It'll take him forty minutes, an hour tops, even carrying me and my bag. And then he can either return to the house and swear up and down he doesn't know where I am, or take my bag of gold and start a new life. A fighter like him won't have any problem finding work.

So I try and think of something else to say, but he beats me to it.

‘I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot.' The words are stilted, as though he's having trouble saying them. He still won't look at me.

I frown. ‘We did?' Of course we did. It's obvious we can't stand each other.

He snorts again. ‘I don't know why you're pretending we didn't. I get it, okay? I'm just another guard, and you're the big fancy heir to Raven. I don't know why you saved me last night, or why you're being nice now. But it makes my job easier, so I'm trying to be more reasonable.'

‘Not trying very hard,' I mutter, getting to my feet.

I start back towards the house, not caring whether or not he follows. He does, of course. I ignore him.

Makes his job easier. What an ass.

He clears his throat. He's obviously trying to get my attention. ‘I have something for you.'

‘What?'

He grabs my arm, pulling me to a stop at the foot of the steps.

‘Let go!' I shake my arm, but his fingers remain around it, though he isn't hurting me.

Quite the opposite.

He digs in his pocket, then pulls out a small glass vial filled with pale liquid. ‘Here.' He holds it out.

I take it with my free hand. ‘Why are you giving me anti-feed? Are you saying I smell , now?'

‘You smell fine.' His mouth curves. ‘I just want you to be safe. When we go out again.'

His eyes are a silver gleam, his dark lashes casting shadows on his high cheekbones. He is ridiculously hot. I stare at him, a thousand retorts rising to my lips then disappearing.

‘How did you get this?' All the anti-feed in the house, including my own supply, is held under lock and key, doled out in small batches when needed. It's expensive, for starters. And not easy to come by. The spare vials I have took me ages to gather, filched from careless blood dancers.

‘I have my ways.' His smile deepens. He's released my arm, but is closer to me. I take a step back, reminding myself how completely annoying he is.

‘Thanks.'

‘Like I said, I appreciate you not getting me fired. Or worse.'

‘Fine,' I say. Like my heart isn't dancing in my chest. He wants me to be safe. Because it's his job, my mind adds, helpfully. I take another step back.

‘So, why didn't you say anything? I'm just curious.'

Oh, I cannot do this. I need to find another way out of here. Maybe I can steal the car. Except I can't drive. I march up the steps to the front door, continuing across the foyer towards the stairs, conscious of the fact that I'm sweaty and emotional, feeling as though I'm glowing red. Absolute vampire catnip. I wouldn't last a minute outside the gates after nightfall, especially if I'd been running all day. I take the stairs, heading across the landing and down the hallway, Kyle still following. I'm trying not to stamp. ‘You don't have to follow me everywhere,' I hiss.

‘Actually, I do,' he says, a thread of laughter in his voice. I feel as though I might burst into flames with rage. ‘It's literally my job.'

‘Oh, your job .'

‘Yes, my job. And you still haven't answered me.'

I stop dead. He does too. I glance at him. He has one dark eyebrow raised, a smirk playing around his perfect lips.

‘I guess, I appreciated what you did,' I mutter. ‘Taking me somewhere I could just be…'

‘Emelia? Not Raven?' There's a softness to his voice that wasn't there before. He comes closer. ‘Is that it?'

My heart is pounding, and I'm reminded again of our closeness in a darkened hallway. And then of another embrace, in frozen woods.

‘Yes,' I say. ‘So why did you have to ruin it?'

‘Ruin it?' Still soft, his scent of violets and fresh leaves twining around me.

‘When you said I was… when you…' It's like I'm possessed. Why am I telling him this? I just need to be nice, get him on my side, then get him to take me over the fence and leave me at the Safe Zone. That's it. No need for anything else.

‘What is it?' He's even closer, leaning in, his broad shoulders blotting out what little light there is.

‘Human.' I spit the word. ‘You said I was just a human.'

‘Is that why you're mad? Emelia, I think you're—' He stops talking, straightening up as two guards appear at the end of the hallway. They nod as they pass us. ‘My lady.'

I'm going to scream.

‘I need to shower.' I start along the hallway once more, before he can say anything else, move any closer. I need to keep focus.

But as I stand under needles of hot water a few minutes later, it's as though I can almost feel his presence through the walls, as though he's in the room with me, instead of waiting outside my door. I blush and blush some more, imagining his silver gaze on me as I twist under the water. I can't deny my response to him, despite how he infuriates me. But there is no way in hell I'm telling him, or acting on it. I need to stick to my plan.

He's waiting, of course, when I open my bedroom door a short while later. And if I took extra care to make sure my hair was smooth and shining, wore one of my favourite dresses, it was for my parents' benefit, that's all.

I don't say anything as I start down the hallway, because I don't know what to say. I feel like a stranger in my own home, the place more familiar to me than anywhere else on the planet feeling strange and new, the way the candle-lamps gild the velvet and heavy red carpets, the carved wood, the silver glimpse of moon through the unshuttered windows.

‘So, where are we going?'

I have no idea. I should see my parents, but I don't want to, the strangeness running through me like quicksilver making me feel as though I want to run outside and dance beneath the stars, screaming at the moon like a wild creature of the woods.

‘Are you still mad about the human thing?'

I am seriously going to deck him in a moment. But it also seems rude to keep staying silent, even though my throat feels choked by something huge, welling from my chest. I swallow. ‘No.' Lies.

‘You sure? Because being human isn't a bad thing, you know.'

I glance at him. ‘Really?' I hiss. ‘Tell me what's so good about it, then.'

But Kyle has stopped. I do, too. We're standing in front of a pair of double doors, carved with the Raven crest and gilded with silver.

‘What's in here?' he says.

‘Shouldn't you know? I thought you would have seen the entire house.'

‘I've been told to follow you. I didn't get a tour, apart from the entrances, exits and weak spots.'

‘Weak spots?'

‘Nothing to worry about,' he says. ‘We used one of them last night though, when I brought you over the fence.' He grins.

I realise I'm watching his mouth as he talks. ‘We did?' This is useful information.

‘We did. So.' He jerks his head towards the closed doors. ‘Will you take me inside?' Then he winks at me, his hand brushing against mine.

Damn him to blood and darkness. Seriously. I can barely breathe as I turn the handle, pushing the door open. He's in like a flash, a streak of darkness in the shadowy room. But instead of completing the circuit he stops dead centre, his mouth dropping open.

‘Wow. What is this place?'

I enter the room, floorboards creaking underfoot. It is pretty amazing. The room is large, with a vaulted ceiling. Long windows at one end let in pale moonlight. But there's no furniture in here. Instead, faceless black mannequins stand all around the room, dressed in gowns and armour, chain mail and satin, styles from the distant past. Our family archive, clothes belonging to Ravens throughout history. The castle we live in passes to the youngest in the family as soon as they take a mate, with whoever's in residence moving to one of the other Raven properties scattered across the realm. It's also how the other branches of the family, like Mistral and Ravenna, came to be, the deposed Ravens starting new dynasties. But this is the ancient seat of our family, so it's where our history is preserved. And the Costume Room is part of it.

I walk over to a small dial set into the wall. ‘Do you mind?' I say. ‘It'll be very dim, candle strength.'

Kyle is still looking around. ‘No, go for it.'

I turn the dial and the bulbs in the wall sconces start to glow, casting a shimmer across the objects in the room, glancing off jet and ruby and steel, off swords arranged like fans on the stone walls. I've spent a lot of time in this room. Whenever I come in here, it's as though I connect to the energy of those past Ravens, and my heritage feels like something wonderful, rather than a weight to be borne. It feels like power. Like they're… encouraging me. When you spend a lot of time alone you look for friendship wherever you can find it. And here, among the silk and metal of my ancestors, I feel something close to capable.

‘This is… amazing.' Kyle is still in the centre of the room, hands on hips, his head slightly back, turning as he takes it all in. ‘Whose clothes are these?'

‘Um, they belong to my family. My ancestors.' I try not to stare at his lean muscular frame, his gilded and shadowed beauty.

‘Really?' His face lights up with a grin. He goes over to a suit of armour made from gleaming embossed silver, with the Raven crest in ebony on the breastplate. ‘Man, if this were mine…' His long fingers run over the crest, tracing our motto. ‘Raven claw, blood and stone. Whose was this?'

‘My great-grandfather's.' I know all the pieces in here. Spent hours in the library researching their history, who they belonged to, the stories of my illustrious ancestors. Ravens fought in all the great vampire wars of history, including the Rising.

‘And this one?'

I don't answer him. There's another beautiful garment, draped over its mannequin. Except this one is unworn. Because it's mine. I bite my lip as I touch the intricate jet beading, the stiff white satin dress embroidered with silver, the high collared cape with the Raven insignia on the back. My coronation robes. They're terrifying and beautiful at the same time. I can't imagine wearing them. It's a good thing I'm not going to.

‘Shall we dance?'

‘What?' I turn to see Kyle standing in the space at the centre of the room, one arm outstretched. He's taken a cape from one of the mannequins and looks so hilarious I can't help but laugh.

He frowns. ‘What? I thought I looked pretty good in this.' He swishes the cape with one hand. It's black with silver filigree stitched along the hem, the collar tall around his face. He does look good in it – he'd look good in anything – but at the same time it's completely ridiculous.

‘You know I don't like dancing,' I say. I'm blushing, despite my best efforts.

‘Could have fooled me,' he says, swishing the cape again as he comes closer. He twirls and I giggle, the wildness rising in me again. There's no one to see me here, no smirking Stella or hungry vampires. I pull a long red silk scarf from a nearby mannequin, the jet beads making a sound like rainfall, drape it around me and walk over to him. He bows. I curtsey, then laugh again.

‘What's so funny?' He sounds injured, so I try to keep a straight face as I take his hand. His other hand comes to my waist and all at once the desire to laugh is gone from me, replaced by a different kind of desire.

‘Nothing,' I say. ‘Let's dance.'

‘As you wish, my lady.' He sounds completely serious, so I resist the urge to snap at him. He pulls me closer, taking my hand, his other hand at the back of my waist. We spin beneath the long windows, my beads clicking and clacking like rain, his cloak swishing, silver filigree catching the dim light, the lawn outside silvered by the moon. He is effortlessly strong, the way he holds me against him, secure, protected. I'm tingling all over, my breath getting shorter. It's like twirling through a dream, and I give myself up to it, my feet leaving the floor, my whole body entwined with his.

‘See, we can get on if we try,' he murmurs.

‘What?' His lips are so close to my ear. I'm acutely aware of his body against mine, the cool hardness. I struggle to focus.

Our spinning slows, his head moving closer to mine. ‘I think we could be friends. If you want. Or even more.' His hand at my waist slides lower, his other arm wrapping around me.

My heart is pounding, but I can't control it. Can't control anything, including my response to him.

There's a clapping sound and I jump. Kyle lets me go, stepping back. I stagger, but manage to right myself, feeling as though I'm on fire.

‘Emelia! And Kyle. Just who I've been looking for.'

My mother comes towards us, her long skirts trailing like flickers of flame. She's smiling, her arms held out, red velvet sleeves tapering to points over her delicate fingers. I avoid her embrace, hoping she won't notice how flushed I am, how rapid my breathing.

‘My lady.' Kyle bows neatly from the waist.

‘Kyle.' My mother nods. ‘I thought you were to bring Emelia to us this evening.'

‘I am, my lady. However, she wanted to come here on the way and?—'

‘Of course,' she says. ‘Emelia's wishes, and her safety, are of paramount importance.'

Except my wish to not be Raven, of course. The thought cools my rushing head and heart, dampens the fire in my veins.

Kyle undoes the cloak, going to drape it carefully back on the mannequin where he found it.

My mother tilts her head. ‘That belonged to my father,' she says. ‘He used to wear it to dances. Probably not his style these days.'

‘My lady, I apologise if?—'

‘That's not what I meant. It's nice to see it being worn again.' She smiles at him, then at me. ‘That red is lovely on you, Emelia.'

‘Oh!' I pull at the scarf, trying not to damage the delicate fabric. My mother stops me, her hands soft on mine.

‘You should keep it. I used to love wearing it.' She embraces me. ‘Now, come,' she says. ‘Let us go to your father. Kyle, report to Bertrand. He may need you elsewhere on the estate, and Emelia can stay with me.'

‘My lady.' Kyle bows, then heads to the door. I go to follow him, as though we're connected by an invisible string.

My mother stops me. Her grip is gentle, though she's strong as iron. ‘So,' she says once Kyle is gone, a smile in her voice. ‘You're getting along well with the new guard?'

I blush. ‘I suppose,' I say, not looking at her.

‘He's nice to you?'

‘Nice enough,' I say.

‘That is good,' my mother says, though the softness has gone from her tone. ‘You do, however, need to remember who you are.'

I look at her. Then around the room with its layers of history, its weight of robes and responsibility that I have to carry. ‘How can I forget,' I say.

It's not a question.