Blood Ties (12 page)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

‘T
hat was fun!’ said Cassie.

She actually almost meant it – Isabella’s enthusiasm for shopping was infectious, and helped take Cassie’s mind off things, for a moment at least. ‘I take it you’re suitably consoled?’

‘Ooof!’ came Isabella’s reply. She halted in the Academy’s atrium, right next to Achilles, and set down her collection of shopping bags. Cassie sighed as well, all too aware of the stares and whispers of the Few that followed her. The Carnegie Hall story had obviously gone round the common room like wildfire. Mikhail in particular gave her a filthy glare as he passed. If some of the Few had been unwelcoming before, she dreaded to think how they’d feel towards her now.

Stretching her shoulders, Isabella bent and tweaked open one bag. Achilles’ blank eyes glowered straight into it.

‘He doesn’t approve,’ remarked Cassie, jerking her thumb at the young marble warrior.

‘That tells me all I need to know,’ sniffed Isabella. ‘He is a man with no heart. Look at the way he treats poor Hector.’ Affectionately she patted Hector’s cold marble arm, raised in futile protest at his imminent death. ‘Yes. I consider myself consoled. Bergdorf Goodman was a particular triumph.’

‘Girls, you have been very naughty.’

For a fleeting second Cassie imagined it was Achilles talking, till she saw Richard. He was propped lazily against the statue, one hand on Achilles’ toned butt. A group of Few girls stared at him, then over towards Cassie, clearly disbelieving and hostile. Richard seemed to ignore them.

‘Richard!’ Isabella kissed him on both cheeks, before shooting a guilty look at Cassie. ‘That’s the pot calling the skittle black, I think. Weren’t you at Gucci yesterday when you should have been in French literature?’

Richard grinned slyly. ‘Touché! Fabulous coat, bella Isabella. Cassie, you’re looking stunning, as ever.’

She gave him a tight smile through gritted teeth, but remained stonily silent. It was all she could do not to throttle him. Isabella’s presence was pretty much all that was stopping her. So what if he came over all penitent and guilty? She didn’t trust him as far as she could throw— She cut herself off mid-thought. After the events of last night, that wasn’t such a comfortable metaphor.

Richard unwound a cashmere scarf from his neck, and lowered his voice. ‘Cassie, darling, you have to forgive me eventually.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Cassie snapped.

‘Well.’ He raised a hand at a tall, shy-looking, new sixth-form girl, who blushed and smiled as she swept her overlong blonde fringe out of her eyes. ‘I fear I must take my leave.’

‘Oh, Richard,’ scolded Isabella, following his eye-line. ‘You’re impossible.’

‘On the contrary, I’m all too probable. And, oh dear, here comes Daniel again,’ sighed Richard as he caught sight of a well-built Israeli boy making a beeline towards them. ‘I have a stalker, ladies. One little dalliance and now he won’t leave me alone. Once you go fop, it appears you can’t stop … Farewell.’ With a last flirtatious wink at the blonde sixth former, Richard dodged swiftly out of sight towards the elevators, leaving Daniel to glare hatred.

‘He’ll never change,’ said Isabella, shaking her head. She looked cautiously over at Cassie. ‘Do you think you could ever forgive him?’

‘No.’

When they reached the elevator, it felt like a haven from the whispers and the watchers. Cassie pressed the button with a sigh of relief. ‘I wonder if Ranjit’s around.’

‘If Ranjit’s around, I’m sure he’ll find you,’ teased Isabella, lugging her retail haul into their room and dumping the bags on her bed. ‘Hey, what’s that?’

‘Good question.’ Cassie dropped her own rather smaller shopping bag on the floor, eyeing the scroll that lay on her pillow. It was gilt-edged – that was new – but it was tied in a familiar black ribbon. A shiver of fear travelled up her spine. Nothing good ever seemed to come of these sinister messages. Why couldn’t the Academy use email like everyone else?

‘Go on, open it!’

Reluctant even to touch the scroll, Cassie cautiously broke the wax seal on the ribbon. Unrolling it with the tip of a fingernail, she read the message through in silence.

Isabella had entirely forgotten Bergdorf Goodman. She was watching Cassie with unbearable curiosity. ‘Come on! Give!’

Cassie frowned. ‘It’s from the Council of Elders. Whatever that is.’

‘Sounds good.’ Isabella hesitated, then glanced doubtfully at Cassie. ‘Doesn’t it?’

‘No. It’s a summons to a meeting of the Council next week. Attendance is not optional.’

Angrily, Cassie flung the scroll to the floor, and Isabella lifted it gingerly to read it through herself. She raised her eyebrows. ‘It’s rather curt, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah, well I think I can guess what it’s about.’

The girls looked at each other, and neither was smiling. They said the words in unison.

‘Carnegie Hall.’

‘Cassie, hi!’

Ranjit’s face lit up as he raised his head from the pile of books at his desk. It hadn’t been difficult to find him: huddled in a quiet nook of the vast library, poring over ancient books that seemed very out of place among the sleek hyper-modern facilities. His expression darkened again as he read her own. ‘What’s up?’

Cassie wanted to fling the scroll down – she hated even touching it – but she managed to lay the rolled-up parchment carefully in front of him, on top of his open book.

His eyes widened. ‘The Council of Elders.’

‘You’ve had one of these?’ She raised her eyebrows quizzically.

Ranjit shook his head. ‘No. But I recognise the style.’ He fingered the scroll’s gilt edging thoughtfully.

‘It arrived today. While I was out, of course.’

‘I see.’ He sat back in his chair, turning a pen in his fingers, then looked up at her, his eyes searching. ‘How are you, Cassie? I’m sorry I didn’t get to walk you to your room last night … And for how things turned out in general. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’ He laughed briefly and gave her an apologetic look. ‘I seem to be finding myself saying that to you a lot.’

Cassie smiled. ‘I’m OK. I think I may be starting to get a little, uh, hungry, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.’ Noticing his concerned look, she pressed on, hoping to distract him. ‘So, what did Sir Alric say to you last night anyway? Birds and the bees chat?’

‘Something like that …’ he muttered.

‘Really?’ Cassie’s voice couldn’t contain her surprise.

‘What? Uh, no,’ Ranjit said, as though he’d just been distracted from another thought. ‘No, it was nothing. I guess he just wanted to reprimand me, as the elder and supposedly wiser one of us. I guess we were causing a bit of a scene out there.’ He gave her a crooked grin.

‘I guess so …’ she whispered, leaning forward to give him a brief, cautious kiss, before pulling a second chair across from an empty desk and sitting down next to him. ‘Anyway, sorry I managed to ruin Valentine’s Day.’

Ranjit slid a hand across to cover hers. ‘You didn’t ruin it. Come on – one thing’s for sure, I’ve never had a date quite like that. I didn’t get to properly thank you for the memorable experience!’ He smiled.

Cassie knew he was just trying to cheer her up but she couldn’t return his grin. ‘But that’s what the summons is about, isn’t it? Carnegie Hall?’

He sighed and nodded solemnly. ‘I don’t see what else it could be. Cassie …’ Taking a breath, Ranjit unrolled the scroll and read it through. ‘You should know, this is very, very rare. The Elders almost never meet, let alone summon a student. The Council is made up of the most important Few, and their day jobs don’t leave much room for governing their own kind. Besides, most of them would find their lives very, ah, awkward, should their secret get out.’

Cassie wrinkled her nose. ‘You mean I might recognise some of these Elders?’

‘Oh, I’m sure you will. Unless you’ve never watched the news in your life.’

‘Now I’m definitely scared.’ She rubbed her temples. ‘What exactly do they want?’

He studied the bookshelf over her left shoulder. ‘To find out what happened, I expect.’

‘But I don’t know what happened, Ranjit. And more importantly, neither does Sir Alric. What are they expecting me to tell them?’

‘I don’t know.’ Ranjit squeezed her fingers, but he still wasn’t quite meeting her eyes. ‘But I’m sure it’ll be fine, Cassie. They’re not all horrors and despots.’

‘Not all,’ she repeated dryly.

‘You’ll be fine,’ he said again. ‘I’ll be there. I’ll come with you.’

‘You will?’ She brightened instantly. ‘You can do that?’

‘There are a lot of things I can do that you don’t know about.’ He cocked an eyebrow. ‘You have a right to a Supporter. So that’s that. I’m not going to let you go alone.’ He sounded almost too determined, as though he were trying to convince someone other than just her. She couldn’t help feeling a rush of emotion towards him. Standing up, she reached across the pile of books and hugged him. His promise had brought unexpected tears to her eyes and she didn’t much want him to see them.

‘Thanks, Ranjit.’

‘No problem,’ he breathed. Then she felt her feet leave the ground, and realised he’d lifted her as if she weighed nothing. Setting her down on his own side of the desk, her body pressed to his, he kissed her properly. It wasn’t urgent like last night, just warm and comforting. After a moment he pulled back, with a look that she read as relief. Smiling into his chest, she mumbled, ‘You’ll definitely be there?’

‘I told you. I won’t leave you alone.’

No, no he mustn’t leave us!

The harsh voice jolted Cassie. She pulled back, shocked.

Are you sure he won’t? Do we trust him?

‘Of course we do!’ she hissed.

‘Cassie?’ Ranjit frowned down at her. ‘What?’

‘Sorry. Nothing,’ she said hastily. Looking up, she met his anxious gaze.

Can we trust him not to leave us?

Shaking her head to try and loose Estelle, she forced a little laugh, reached up and kissed him quickly. ‘I should get going.’

‘Don’t worry, Cassie. OK? You don’t have to worry.’

‘Sure.’ She smiled a bright fake smile. ‘It’s only the Council of Elders, right?’

Ranjit laughed quietly. ‘Right. See you soon.’

She gave his hand one last squeeze, then hurried away, before Estelle said anything more. Ranjit had told her she didn’t have to be worried, and she believed him. She took his word for it. She did trust him.

Didn’t she?

As Cassie rounded the corner in the stacks she noticed a familiar figure walking away from one of the desks and heading for the door, clutching an armful of files. Jake. She almost called out to him, wanting to harangue him about abandoning Isabella again earlier in the day, but he was already gone. Beneath his desk, though, she could see a single sheet of paper that had slipped to the floor. Cassie bent to pick it up.

It was a page of plain text, a printout from a computer file, that much was clear. The title alone was enough to send shivers right through her:

Highly Classified – Enquiries into the death of Jessica Marie Johnson

But what took Cassie’s breath away were the four words that encircled a blue and gold seal at the very top of the page:

Federal Bureau of Investigation

‘Jake,’ she whispered to herself. ‘What the hell have you done?’

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I
nsomnia was making the hunger worse. That and stress, Cassie figured. After a sleepless night, Cassie felt so groggy and weak, she skipped a class for the first time in her Darke Academy career. Signor Poldino would accept a sob story about a headache, she decided, groaning as she flopped back on to the pillows. As for confronting Jake about the FBI file, it would just have to wait.

Isabella took a little more convincing than the art master, but as soon as her roommate could be persuaded to leave her in peace and go to class, Cassie blew out a sigh of relief. She rolled over and tugged the melted photographs out from under her mattress. Sitting up cross-legged, she stared at them once more. She could barely comprehend the catalogue of issues confronting her: the melting frames, and then Isabella’s bangle; Carnegie Hall and the implications of her new power; the horrible incident with Isabella at Coney Island; Jake and the whole Katerina mess; Ranjit; and, of course, the icing on the cake – a summons from the Council of Elders. Everything seemed to fall back on her, on what she’d become. She’d never felt so heartsick and helpless.

The weather wasn’t helping. Beyond her window, a weight of dirty snow-cloud lay over the city, and desultory grey flakes drifted down, sticking to the glass. The day looked like she felt.

There was a lot she needed to know, and no one else to ask. Swinging her legs off the bed, she stared out of the plate-glass window. Sir Alric, she thought. He’d promised to research her strange power, and maybe he’d already found more information. She knew she couldn’t bear another day without asking, anyway.

When she stepped out of the elevator, the door to his office was open. Unaccountably nervous, she approached. Sir Alric was there in front of his desk, propped against it, talking to someone in the armchair in front of him.

All she could make out of the visitor was the back of his head. It looked familiar – stupidly familiar, because clearly she was mistaken. It couldn’t be him – not here in New York. All the same, she felt her heart begin to pound.

It just couldn’t be him … Could it?

She gave her head a quick, hard shake. Instantly Sir Alric glanced up, catching the movement. In his face shock dawned, and something like anger. He wasn’t expecting her. She was interrupting. Cassie raised a tentative hand – partly greeting, partly to indicate that she’d wait – but he didn’t acknowledge her.

Instead he snapped his fingers once at someone out of sight, and a secretary stepped into view. ‘Sir Alric is busy just now.’ The young man gave her an anodyne smile, and closed the door firmly in her face.

Cassie gaped, open-mouthed. ‘I’ll wait,’ she muttered grimly.

There were a few impeccably designed chairs in the corner of the anteroom, but Cassie ignored them and the glossy magazines and the bookshelves. She could only pace back and forth, scowling, as the minutes ticked by. The hideous certainty was growing that she did know that visitor. That he was who she thought he was. Why else would Sir Alric have reacted the way he did? Fury bubbled up inside her, and she clenched her teeth against it. Maybe she didn’t know the wise and kind Sir Alric so well after all.

When the door swung open, she turned, eyes blazing. But it wasn’t Sir Alric; it wasn’t his secretary.

It was Patrick Malone.

Cassie stared at her old friend, her mentor, her key worker. Patrick smiled nervously. ‘Cassie.’

She took a breath. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I … I had something to talk to Sir Alric about. It – couldn’t wait. Cassie, how are you?’ He put out his hand.

She didn’t take it. She could feel her fingers trembling, and she didn’t want to give away how scared and angry she was. ‘I don’t know what you’re doing, but—’

‘Cassandra.’ Sir Alric was suddenly standing behind him. ‘Patrick was just leaving.’

‘Why is he even here?’

‘Why don’t you come in and we can talk about it?’

‘Yes, Cassie. Go ahead.’ Patrick wasn’t smiling any more. ‘Sir Alric will explain.’ He glanced at the older man.

Cassie frowned, looking from the nervous Patrick to the expressionless features of Sir Alric Darke. She opened her mouth to say no, but then curiosity got the better of her. She nodded silently.

Sir Alric gestured her in as the young secretary escorted Patrick out. He clearly meant to keep them apart, but though the secretary moved swiftly past Cassie, not even giving her a glance, Patrick halted to hug her. Stiffly she endured it, determined not to hug him back. She was already feeling the painful sting of secrets she didn’t know.

Sir Alric closed the door firmly as soon as Patrick was beyond it.

‘Yes, Cassandra. Why don’t you take a seat?’ Sir Alric sat down behind his desk, but swivelled his chair forty-five degrees so that he was in profile, staring out across the city skyline. His dismissive coolness was unsettling: she’d expected a little contrition. She had to take another breath before she could speak, and she remained standing.

‘Patrick.’ She licked her lips and swallowed. ‘What is he doing here?’

‘Why wouldn’t he come? He’s been trying to contact you since the beginning of term.’ Sir Alric swivelled his chair to face her. ‘There was no reply, it seems. Naturally he was worried about you.’

Cassie chewed the inside of her cheek.

‘His messages didn’t reach you, I take it?’

‘They reached me,’ she muttered.

‘I see.’

‘Look, I didn’t want to talk to him, OK? I wasn’t ready.’

Shutting his eyes, he massaged the bridge of his nose. ‘Why not?’

‘Because he knows. About this school. About everything. About the Few. Doesn’t he?’

Once again Sir Alric turned to look out at the city. ‘Yes.’

‘And he knows I’m … Few?’

‘Yes. That’s why he’s been worried. Did that not occur to you, Cassandra?’

She bit her lip to stop herself swearing at him. The arrogance of the man!Was he being obtuse on purpose or did he really not understand how this made her feel?

‘How does Patrick know?’

Sir Alric gave a heavy sigh. ‘He knows, Cassandra, because he was a student here himself.’

Cassie sat back in her chair. For long seconds she couldn’t speak.

‘How do you think he knew about us? Why do you think he’d suggest you apply to this school, of all places?’

‘Yes, why?’ Cassie stood up sharply. ‘Why would he? He knew about you, and the Few? He knew everything about this place – that’s what you’re telling me – and yet he still sent me here?’ There was a pain in her chest that was suffocating.

‘Sit down, Cassandra.’ Sir Alric shot her a glance, then turned away yet again. Funny, she thought bitterly as she subsided into the chair, how he couldn’t seem to face her.

‘I’m waiting,’ she said softly.

He steepled his fingers and turned to her properly at last. ‘Patrick sent you because he knew what was on offer here: what you could gain. He knew you’d meet our educational standards, he knew you’d benefit enormously from time at the Academy. Believe me, he thought long and hard before he sent you here. But send you he did.’

Cassie felt dizzy. She put her hands to the sides of her head. ‘And look what happened to me,’ she whispered. ‘How could he?’

‘Because he didn’t anticipate this. None of us did. He thought it was impossible, that there was no chance of you becoming Few. He made me promise to choose your roommate wisely, to give you the best companion possible. I gave him that promise very happily. That’s something that has worked out for the best, I think?’

She rubbed her forehead. ‘Yes. Yes, that did.’

‘Patrick, you see, roomed with a Few member. Erik was a fine member of the Few and an even finer human being. Patrick respected him enormously, and the feeling was mutual. Just like you and Isabella, Erik refused to deceive Patrick. He fed on him with Patrick’s full knowledge and consent, and no harm was ever done. Their relationship was as perfect as it gets between Few and life-source.’

The casual way he said it sent a buzz of horror down Cassie’s spine.

‘Patrick knew you’d be safe. With the best of girls as your roommate, you’d be protected, you’d be privileged, and he knew from his own experience that no harm would come to you. Above all, he thought that there was no chance – not the slightest possibility – of you ever becoming Few yourself. Patrick too was a scholarship boy. He knew it was supposed to be impossible.’

‘And then along came Estelle,’ whispered Cassie. Her whole being felt numb.

Sir Alric nodded solemnly. ‘Is there anything else you wish to know?’

She shook her head slowly. ‘Nothing. I don’t want to know anything else about that. Except …’

He watched her in silence, waiting.

‘This guy Erik. Patrick’s roommate. You said he was a fine human being.’

‘Oh yes. Erik Ragnarsson is dead.’

Cassie let that sink in. No, she wouldn’t ask anything more. She didn’t want to know.

‘I thought it was best that I explain, rather than Patrick. Given your …’ he paused, ‘volatile state. Would you like to speak to him now?’

Violently she shook her head. ‘No! No, I don’t want to see him.’

‘Very well.’ Sir Alric inclined his head. ‘Then all that’s left, Miss Bell, is to tell me why you came to see me in the first place.’

God. She’d almost forgotten. With a shaking hand, Cassie drew the gilt-edged scroll from her pocket. The expensive parchment was barely crumpled. In light of what had just happened, the summons seemed so much less important. She hardly cared about it any more.

No. No, she had to care. She had to know. Cassie gritted her teeth. ‘Do you know anything about this?’

Sir Alric gave the summons a casual glance. ‘I knew you’d received it.’

‘You knew? Did you know it was coming? Before then, I mean?’

‘Yes.’

Cassie stared down at the parchment in her hand. ‘Did you tell them? The Elders, I mean. About me?’

‘Of course.’

He sounded so reasonable she wanted to strike him.

‘Why?’

Sir Alric smiled. ‘Since the events at Carnegie Hall, I have spoken to several of my colleagues on the Council to see if they could offer any explanation for the powers you manifested.’

‘And could they?’ Cassie swallowed hard. ‘What did you find out?’

‘Nothing. I can’t give you any further information I’m afraid, Cassandra. I’ve studied several volumes. Nothing so far has come to light.’

‘Then why does the Council want to see me? What aren’t you telling me?’

In the silence it was only Cassie who fidgeted, screwing the scroll anxiously in her hands. Why did Sir Alric seem so perfectly composed, so perfectly calm? She was beginning to hate him. Her heart rate began to increase as she flushed with irritation.

‘I believe I have told you everything I can.’ Sir Alric stood up. ‘Will there be anything else, Cassandra?’

He was so tall. Power just radiated out of him. She remembered thinking that, the first time she’d met him. How impressed she’d been. How intimidated. Not any more.

Not any more!

She rose to her feet. ‘You can’t control me.’

‘What did you say?’ Sir Alric’s voice was dangerously calm.

She drew herself up instinctively. ‘I’m stronger than you think, Alric,’ she hissed.

His eyes narrowed. A muscle below his eye tightened.

‘Do not underestimate me!’ Her lips drew back from her teeth.

‘Cassandra …’ Sir Alric’s voice was a low rumble, but his expression was wary.

The room was red again. But her crimson-tinged vision was not so frightening this time. It meant power. She liked it. How dare he treat her this way! Fury tingled in her spine, trembled like an aura outside her body.

‘Cassandra!’

She didn’t reply. Instead, she laughed. Wildly she looked round the room. It was like him. All elegance. All taste. All control! She’d show him …

Reaching out, her aura of power spread across the room. Through the stained-glass shade of an exquisite designer table lamp, the bulb glowed brighter – then brighter still. The light changed colour, even as it intensified. Now the unbearable glare was blood-red and laser-bright, brilliant with energy. Sir Alric gave an exclamation of horror, and reached for it.