Bones and Ashes (14 page)

Sylvia finally looked up and saw them. For a brief moment, the smile disappeared from her face.

“Come along, Raiden,” her grandmother said. She turned to walk away.

Sylvia left the Duke and hurried over. “I didn’t know you were planning to attend the performance tonight.” Her aunt smiled, but it was a false smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “And you’ve brought Raiden with you as well. How lovely.”

“Lady Northumberland,” the Duke said, as he came up. He stood behind Sylvia, his hand resting on her waist.

“Lord Exeter,” her grandmother said, acknowledging him. There was an awkward silence. Her grandmother’s eyes never wavered from the Duke’s. He bent his head and murmured something to Sylvia. She looked at Raiden, her eyes filled with dislike.

“Of course,” she said. She cleared her throat. “May I present to you my cousin, Lady Raiden Feralis.”

This is where Raiden had to curtsy, but she didn’t. She stood frozen.

“Raiden,” her grandmother said, a warning in her voice.

Slowly, Raiden sank into a curtsy. “Your Grace,” she murmured.

The Duke smiled at her wistfully. “You look so much like your mother.” Raiden tensed. He had no right to speak of her mother. The Duke turned to her grandmother. “Don’t you think so?” Her grandmother didn’t answer. “It was a terrible accident,” the Duke continued.

“It wasn’t an accident,” Raiden said. They all turned to look at her. “The fire was started deliberately. It wasn’t an accident.”

No one said anything, but the Duke was no longer amused. Sylvia laughed. The Duke looked at her and she went silent.

Her grandmother put her hand on Raiden’s arm. “We should take our seats.” She took Raiden’s arm and led her away. Her grandmother held onto her tightly, with her other hand she leaned heavily on her cane.

They went up the stairs to the next level in silence. Her grandmother looked a hundred years old as she hobbled along, her shoulders hunched. The lines underneath her eyes were more visible, as though someone had taken a knife to her face and carved all the anguish into it.

“I’m sorry,” Raiden said. She hadn’t meant to cause her grandmother pain by reminding her about her mother’s death.

Her grandmother stopped on the stairs when they were out of sight and closed her eyes. She straightened and let go of Raiden’s arm and then she walked up the remaining steps unaided.

This floor was deserted except for a young man standing outside a box. He leaned casually against the wall.

“Good evening, Eleanor,” he said as they passed.

Her grandmother barely glanced at him; she was lost deep in her own thoughts. Raiden frowned at him. No one addressed her grandmother by her first name, especially not a boy only a few years older than Raiden.

Her grandmother stopped and turned, as she finally noticed him. She drew in a breath. “Lazare.”

The young man stared back at her grandmother. They gazed at each other in silence. His blonde hair was slightly longer than was fashionable and he had dark blue eyes with long brown lashes. He was slender, almost effeminate, with high cheekbones and a nose that jutted out like the prow of a ship. He was too pale. Raiden could see the network of blue veins in his neck and there was something not quite right about his eyes. His pupils were too dilated. Something about him made her think he wasn’t entirely human.

“It’s been a long time, Eleanor,” he said.

“Almost fifty years,” her grandmother replied.

“You’ve become old.”

“You haven’t. You haven’t aged at all.”

The young man smiled and Raiden saw a brief flash of fangs. A vampire. She had never seen one before. He was a vampire and he knew her grandmother well enough to call her by her first name.   

“What are you doing here, Lazare?” her grandmother asked.

“I came to see the concert.”

While they had been stood there, the performance had started. Raiden could hear the faint wail of a violin.

“You know that’s not what I meant. What are you doing in England? Your kind is not welcome here.”

Lazare didn’t answer; his attention was focused on something behind them. A young, dark-haired woman stood talking to an attendant who was gesturing toward them. The skirts of her black evening dress were slit up to her thigh, revealing long black boots and black trousers. Her gloved hand rested on the hilt of a sword. A pistol hung at her other side. The hunter walked past Raiden and her grandmother and stopped before Lazare.

“May I see your papers?” she asked. 

He tensed. “Is that really necessary?”

“You’re required to show your papers when asked. Are you refusing to do so?”

Her eyes never left his face. Raiden could feel the tension between them. The hunter started to slide her sword from its scabbard. The vampire took a sheaf of papers from inside his jacket and tossed them to her. She caught them and broke the seal. Lazare leaned back against the wall as the hunter inspected them. He appeared amused, but from the cold fury in his eyes, he was incensed at being subjected to this.

The hunter took her time going through them, making a point of reading every word. England was one of the few countries where the vampire courts had little influence. After the English Civil War, all the vampires still in the country had been hunted down and killed. Oliver Cromwell had banned them from the country along with necromancy. Now, all vampires were required to declare themselves when they arrived in England and get papers permitting them to be in the country. They were not living or dead, not demon, but not human either. They had no rights under the law. Their species was created not born and no one was really sure how to classify them.

“They appear to be in order,” the hunter said, almost reluctantly. She handed him back the papers. “We will be watching you.” She turned, her skirts swirling around her as she strode away.

“What are you doing here, Lazare?” her grandmother asked.

He slipped the wad of papers back into his breast pocket. “I have some business to attend to. Is this your daughter?” His gaze drifted to Raiden and seemed to linger on her neck.

“No. This is my granddaughter. My daughter died.”

Her grandmother didn’t introduce them. The vampire smiled at Raiden and swept her a bow. She met his gaze. His eyes were a deep blue with flecks of gold and silver and black. It was like falling into a net of stars. She was mesmerized. She couldn’t look away.

Her grandmother stepped in front of her, breaking their eye contact. “Lazare.” Her voice was filled with disapproval. It was the tone she usually saved for Raiden. Raiden blinked as the glamour was broken.

He smiled, not at all sorry about what he had done. “Perhaps I could call upon you?”

“I do not think that would be wise.”

“Eleanor --”

“If you will excuse us.” She turned and headed back down the stairs. Raiden followed her. “We’re leaving,” her grandmother said.

“But we haven’t seen the concert yet.”

Her grandmother didn’t respond, but continued walking. Suddenly, she stopped and pressed a hand to her chest.

“Grandmother?” Raiden asked, frightened. Her grandmother didn’t answer. She made a sound as if she was in pain. “I’ll get the carriage.”

Raiden ran back up the stairs. She had to find the attendant, the one who had been talking to the hunter. Her grandmother wouldn’t be able to summon the carriage herself.

She cried out as her arm was seized and she was pulled into a box. 

Raiden struggled with her attacker. Below her, Francesco Geminiani was playing on stage. A sea of heads was watching the performance, but no one was looking at the box. “What are you doing? Let go.” She fought, but he held on. She kicked out at his leg. He twisted her around so he was holding her from behind.

“Enough,” her assailant said. She froze. She recognised that voice. She had heard it only moments before. It was the vampire. She drew in a breath; she was going to die.

“Did you take anything from the boarding house?” he asked. His mouth was only inches away from her throat.

She turned her head to look at him blankly. “What?”

“The boarding house. You went there this afternoon. Did you take anything?”

He held her immobile against his chest. She struggled to get free, but he wouldn’t let go. “My grandmother is unwell. I have to take her home.”

“I have to know. Did you take anything?” He twisted her arm and she cried out.

“Lazare, I didn’t know you were into assaulting children,” a voice came from behind them.

Lazare turned, taking her with him. The fairy prince hovered in the doorway. Lazare’s grip on her relaxed. “Go,” he said, his mouth against her ear. He pushed her away. “I was hungry,” he said to Valerian. “I forgot to eat before I left.”

The fairy prince smiled. “Wasn’t that a hunter I just saw?”

“I wonder who told her I was here.”

The prince’s smile widened to reveal sharp teeth. “I may have mentioned it in passing.”

Raiden backed away toward the entrance of the box. She met the vampire’s gaze. He jerked his head as if telling her to go. She ducked under the curtain. No one moved to stop her.

She didn’t understand. How did he know about the boarding house?

The attendant was heading down the stairs. She ran to catch up to him. “The Duchess of Northumberland wants her carriage brought round immediately,” she said. He rushed away to do her bidding. “And fetch our cloaks,” she called after him. “Please,” she added, although he was too far away to hear.

Her grandmother waited in the foyer. She clutched her cane so tightly her knuckles were white. The attendant hurried over with their cloaks. Raiden helped her grandmother into her cloak and took her arm. She expected her to shake her off, but she didn’t. She guided her outside and down the steps. The ghost coachmen were waiting with the carriage.

“Take us home,” Raiden ordered as they helped her grandmother in.

Her grandmother called out from the darkness inside the carriage. “James, you will take Raiden back to school first.”

Raiden climbed in. “You need to see a doctor.”

“I’m perfectly capable of seeing to that myself. You are going back to school.”

“It’s still early. I can accompany you home and then Tobin can take me back to school later.”

“You are going back now.”

Raiden sat back against the seat and pulled her cloak around her. She didn’t argue. They sat in silence the rest of the way.

****

Raiden climbed out of the carriage. She stopped the coachman from closing the door. “If anything happens, if you’re unwell, will you send for me?” 

Her grandmother paused. “I will see you’re informed.”

That wasn’t the same as sending someone for her. Her grandmother was the only family Raiden had now Aren had been disinherited and her father was away with the army. If she was ill, she wanted to take care of her. 

The coachman shut the door. Raiden watched as the carriage pulled away. Her grandmother didn’t wave or even look back. She didn’t expect her to, but she stayed and watched until it disappeared, in case this time she did.

With nowhere else to go, Raiden walked slowly up the steps. The heavy door was shut. She pushed on the wood, but it didn’t budge. There was no visible handle; instead a grotesque stone face was fused to the door. Its eyes were closed. Raiden cleared her throat. Its eyes slowly opened. It blinked and looked at her for a moment and then the door creaked open.

Miss Fairbanks was waiting up for her, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. “Good, you’re back. Straight up to bed now,” she said. She walked away, taking the candle with her and leaving Raiden alone in the dark.

Raiden didn’t go up to her room. Instead, she made her way past the classrooms. She felt her way along the wall to the older part of the school. There was no gaslight here. She had only the moonlight coming through the window to see her way to the wardrobe. She unlocked the door. The zombie stood hunched over inside, his eyes open, staring at nothing. 

She went to close the door, having checked he was still there, when he spoke. “Go. Home. Now.”

“Not yet, but soon,” she said, keeping her voice low.

“Soon,” he said as if it was a question.

“Tomorrow. I will take you home tomorrow.” She shouldn’t make promises to him. She had tried to help him once before and he had ended up as a zombie. She reached out and squeezed his cold hand, before she shut the door. She pressed her hand against the wood. “I’ll be back,” she whispered.

The sound of her boots echoed in the darkness as she made her way back down the corridor. She remembered the man in the golden mask from that afternoon and quickened her pace. She paused at the bottom of the main stairs; she was being silly. She was perfectly safe inside the school. No one could harm her here.

She was halfway up the main staircase when two figures appeared at the top. The carpet had masked the sound of their footsteps. They fanned out and began to walk down. She knew who it was before she even saw their faces: Blaize and Glacia. It wasn’t a coincidence they were coming down the stairs just as she was going up. Blaize’s room was below hers. Her window overlooked the street and they would have seen her carriage pull up.