Autumn Rose: A Dark Heroine Novel (24 page)

“My lady, would it be possible to leave sometime in the next day?” Edmund snapped up the stairs.

“I’m coming!” I shouted back, looking one last time at the line between posts where Nathan’s message should have been, then threw my phone and the charger into my school bag and a few books and my toiletries into the larger bag. I would have to change when I got there.

Bolting down, I cast away the larger bag, locked the door behind us, and then cast my school bag with the keys in it into my room at Burrator. When I got back into the car, the prince—
Fallon
—was fiddling with his own phone, though I doubted it was with Facebook. Royalty didn’t have personal profiles, as my friends from Kable had found out when they had tried to Facebook him.

He saw me looking and handed the phone over. The screen was dominated by an article from
Arn Etas,
titled “Suspected Lee–Pierre Pact Remains Unconfirmed by Interdimensional Council; Human Contingent Refuses Support to British Government in Second Dimension.”

I scanned the article while we waited for Edmund, who was outside talking to Richard and his sister. It was much of the same with the humans. In each different country, in each different dimension, members would be elected to the Inter to form a single representative body for that country, regardless of dimension, and together, all the representatives formed the human contingent. They had the same voting weight as any other dark-being kingdom, despite being larger, but if they chose to throw their lot in with Michael Lee, one of the few humans of his dimension who knew about our existence (and only because of his position, because the ignorant humans didn’t vote in his dimension), then we would be in trouble. Thankfully, none, not even the British contingent, had, because of his involvement with suspect groups like the slayers and, according to the article, rogue vampires.

“When did rumors about Pierre and Lee get out?”
I asked Fallon.

“No idea. Old news now anyway,”
he replied in my mind. “
We could have a Pierre-Extermino pact on our hands.”

“Perhaps today was just a one-off,”
I suggested, trying to be uncharacteristically optimistic. He looked at me like my scars had gone bright blue. I grimaced and handed him his phone back. As he closed the app, I could see that the screen was topped with the words
FALLON
—
PERSONAL
(
SECURE
). I was reminded, quite suddenly, of his explanation of why he had come here: the quiet life.

I watched him tuck the phone into his pocket and Edmund get back into the car. He couldn’t truly escape who he was.

I sighed, buckling up before leaning my head against the window. Fallon had withdrawn and I let Nathan emerge from his box in my mind.
Never mind a pact. How about the Extermino
turning
humans?
Stories of humans becoming Sage were so rare . . . it was dangerous. It was absurd.

I knew that at some point, I was going to have to tell them about that, but for now I was content to create a compelling argument to convince them—I wouldn’t believe me if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.

Closing those very eyes, I found Nathan’s face staring back. As I watched, vines crept across his face and settled as clawed fingers across his cheeks. They were not a work of art, like a true Sage’s scars. They were poison ivy. He had been tainted. Tainted gray.

It was not an image I could shift, and even when I fell asleep, he would not leave me be.

I awoke when arms slid their way under the backs of my knees and my shoulders, and I felt a few drops of rain nestle themselves in my hair. I let my eyes flutter open only to close them again when I caught a glimpse of an off-white shirt and russet scars. I spent most of the journey inside trying to fake sleep and work out why I was fighting the urge to let my eyes go pink.

“What is going on? Alfie and Lisbeth came back early, they said something about Extermino . . . Lords of Earth, what happened to Autumn?!”

“Relax, Aunt, she’s just asleep,” Fallon said. My head was resting on his shoulder in the hollow beneath his jaw, and I could feel the tension in his throat adjust as he spoke. It made something burn in my chest.

“You will have to wake her up. You need to tell us what happened,” I heard Prince Lorent say.

“Give me a minute then. And have some chamomile tea ordered. Trust me, we need it.” The footsteps retreated and I heard a door open and close before I was placed on a chair. He sank down into the cushions beside me.

“Autumn, I’m sorry, but it’s time to wake up.”

Then move me off your shoulder,
I thought. Nevertheless, I wriggled a little, opened my eyes, and slowly sat up, taking in our surroundings. We were on the sofa in the drawing room, which was empty. No fire had been lit and the room was still and cold, and the gentle tapping of rain on the windows, the ledges of which very nearly brushed the floor, didn’t help to warm the place up.

“Hey there,” Fallon said, placing a hand on my shoulder. I looked at him, bleary-eyed. “Sweet dreams?”

“No. Not particularly.”

He removed his hand. “Did you have a vision?”

I shook my head and flattened the bloody pleats of my skirt. Thankfully, none of the blood had passed any higher than the hem of my blouse, so nobody had questioned how it had got there. It just looked like it was from my leg.

“You can get changed once we have explained what happened. My father . . .” he waved his hand, “I mean, the king, will need to know about this.”

I nodded. He leaned back into the sofa and closed his eyes, ignoring the bustling as maids and manservants entered and the fire was lit and the tea poured. When Chatwin came over with the tea, I thanked him and avoided eye contact, because I knew he kept glancing at my skirt. When he had gone, I eyed the liquid in the cup skeptically. It was golden and looked like something I would never drink.

“It’s calming,” Fallon reassured. He seemed quite happy to take gulps of his, and no sugar had been added, so I took a few sips. I was nervous anyway. Anything that might help me explain about Nathan had to be a good thing. It tasted fruity, and reminded me of the herbal drinks my grandmother had brewed when I was a child, to ward off my headaches.

Edmund entered and took a seat in one of the upright armchairs nearer the fire, waving Chatwin over with what I was quickly realizing was characteristic arrogance. He, too, took a cup of the tea, downed it, and then sighed into the empty cup. He drank another when Chatwin brought it.

When the prince and princess entered, followed by Alfie and Lisbeth, that ego was eclipsed as he jumped up and bowed. I tried to do the same, but Fallon grabbed the side of my blouse and I got no farther than placing my hands on the cushions to lift myself up. Edmund sat back down but nobody else seemed inclined to do the same.

“Well?” Prince Lorent said to Edmund. He was not happy. He was using the same tone of voice as when the news about Violet Lee had arrived.

“They used a hybrid of block and elemental hexes to conceal themselves. We never felt it coming until a mist appeared. When we consumed that mist,” he turned to look at me, and everybody’s eyes followed, “we stood little chance. Thankfully, so did they. Whatever it was, it was new and extremely powerful.”

He emphasized the last sentence, clearly on the defensive, because what had happened had crushed his professional pride.

“Did you get a sample?”

Edmund looked a little more pleased with himself this time. “Alya has already gone to test it.”

“How many were there?”

“Five,” Fallon answered.

“Six,” I modified.

“Eight,” Edmund corrected. I jolted my head back down to stare at my lap.
If I had known there were that many, I never would have gone near that mist.
“Two fatalities, one injury, on their part.” I looked straight back up again, practically begging Edmund with my eyes not to elaborate. I
couldn’t
have them knowing I had done that. “But two were human.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “And it appears that they were not only human, but slayers. A Giles and Abria of the Pierre clan. Richard is trying to profile them now.”

Alfie’s lower lip curled slightly as his jaw dropped. “Slayers. As in, the Pierre clan . . . with Michael Lee . . . slayers?”

His mother was more direct. “What on earth gives you that idea?”

“This,” Edmund said, and cast the stake into his hands. Everybody gasped. “Autumn found it, shall we say, when it cut into her leg after they had crossed the borders. Hence the blood.” He pointed at me and I nodded.

He took it over to the table, and each person examined it in turn. My heels began to bounce with nerves. The tea hadn’t worked.

Prince Lorent ran a hand down his face and turned to his wife. “I don’t think we can delay speaking with Ll’iriad.”

“To Athenea it is.” She sighed, picking up the stake. “Don’t go far, Edmund; he may want to see you, too.”

The man bowed and Fallon went to stand up, too. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath, letting it go with a rush of words. “There is something else!”

“Oh?” Prince Lorent tilted his head. Edmund caught my eye and shook his head slightly. I ignored him. I was not going to say what he thought I was.

I closed my eyes. “It sounds crazy, but I think I knew one of the Extermino.”

“Knew one?” When I opened my eyes again, Fallon’s uncle was advancing on me, and I dug my feet in to push myself back into the chair.

“Yes. I . . . when he was human.”

“Human?” he echoed, stopping. “Duchess, what are you implying?” His tone was so accusatory that I couldn’t look directly at him.

“I knew him from work, he was a cook, and . . .” I trailed off, screwing my eyes tightly shut as I realized that—

“I may have . . . er . . . forgotten to mention your job,” Fallon filled in. He pursed his lips and chewed on them, running a hand down the back of his head.

“That’s not of any consequence. Just carry on with what you have to say,” his aunt said impatiently.

Of course it’s of consequence. It wounds your honor more than mine.
Nevertheless, I continued. “He stopped turning up about a week after you arrived at Kable.” I looked at Fallon. “And then quit, without giving notice. I didn’t think anything of it, but then he appeared right in front of me in the mist, covered in their gray scars. He was so close I could have touched him. And he didn’t attack me.”

“You were utterly defenseless against the block hex. You could have simply been confused,” Edmund offered, playing devil’s advocate. But I could see it in his features that he believed me, and that he was genuinely worried.

“No! I’m sure!” I insisted. “I checked his Facebook profile just now. He’s deactivated it. And he has a really unique voice. You heard a strong Devonshire accent in the mist, didn’t you?” I pleaded to Fallon and Edmund.

“I did,” Fallon said, and Edmund nodded.

“If the Extermino have started turning humans, then a full investigation will be launched at the highest level. Are you completely and utterly sure of this?” Fallon’s uncle demanded.

I was just short of positive. “Yes, I am.”

“What is his full name, and when was the last time you definitely saw him human?”

I turned to Edmund. “Nathaniel Rile. The first Saturday of September.”

The Athan’s next leader shifted his weight onto one foot, cupping his right elbow with his left hand and resting the index finger of his right at the corner of his lips. He frowned at me. “Presumably you had him as a friend on Facebook. Were you close?”

I blinked a few times and recoiled. “No. We just worked together. I hardly even saw him over the summer.”

He shook his head and closed his eyes. “Duchess, I’m sorry to have to ask you this, but when you were together, did he ever show interest in you? Flirt, perhaps?”

I blushed very deeply and felt my lips part of their own accord into a small
o.
“I wouldn’t know.”

“Did he say or do anything that ever made you uncomfortable or wary?”

I fiddled with my hands in my lap. This was all turning out far worse than I had imagined it would if they had decided to believe me. “He found out that another Sagean family had moved to the area. One of high status.” I didn’t plan on mentioning I had as good as told him that. “And I guess you could say he hunted down my title online.” I looked up. “I never told anyone I was a duchess before Fallon arrived. But you forgot to mention that, too, didn’t you?” I grimaced at the prince sitting next to me. He grimaced back.

My bodyguard-turned-interrogator hummed in response, then began drumming his fingers against the top of the chair he had sat in when he first entered.

“Edmund?”

He turned to the princess. “The Extermino have deliberately chosen someone close to the duchess. If she is indeed correct and this Nathaniel has been turned, then it would logically follow that he had a motive in wanting to become a Sage. It is inconceivable that any human could survive a Sagean turning unless he truly has the will to do so. He was not forced, I can tell you that.”

Fallon and Alfie were both staring at me. “You think the duchess
was
his motive?” the former asked.

“It’s a possibility.”

“And the Extermino’s motive in turning him?”

Edmund gave the two young princes a pointed look, and the elder occupants of the room frowned with worry.

I examined Prince Alfie, then the youngest prince, having lost track of the conversation at their vague exchange. “But surely, by picking someone near to me, they knew they could get to you? I am so sorry. I know you were trying to get away from all this.” Yet again I found myself slumping toward my lap.

“You had no part in this. And life is nothing but for a little excitement,” Fallon’s uncle consoled, though the tone of his voice was weary. “Edmund, I would still like some sort of security set up around the duchess’s home. Until that is in place, she will stay with us.”

My head popped up, but I knew better than to argue with Prince Lorent. Edmund had resumed using the glare I seemed to incite in him, but Fallon was fighting a smirk. I chose to ignore it, trying to block out the feel of him on top of me, because it was putting the tint of my eye in jeopardy.