Which was why she was walking up to Miss Holden’s house, tucked away in a tiny hidden lane on the outskirts of the village. A little cottage with bow windows and ivy running up the side, it had a charming English country garden that, even in winter, looked neat and tidy, with clipped box hedges and shiny green shrubs. It reminded April of the gingerbread house from her Hansel and Gretel storybook as a child.
Dad used to read that to me
, she thought with a sudden jolt of pain. She stood still on the pavement across the road from the teacher’s house, pressing a hand to her chest. This was
happening more and more – suddenly she would think of her dad and burst into tears or want to throw herself under a train. Maybe the numbness and shock of the first few months since his death was wearing off, but the wound seemed more raw and painful as the days passed, not less. But she didn’t want to stop the pain, however much it hurt, because doing so would mean letting him go somehow.
Try and remember the good things, hold onto all the great things he did
, she told herself, trying to breathe evenly. Remember the stories.
She remembered how he used to embellish the stories, weaving in characters from other fairy tales. ‘It doesn’t say that, Daddy!’ April would laugh as Goldilocks or Sneezy from Snow White appeared to save Hansel from the witch’s oven.
I wish he was still here to give this story a happy ending
, she thought, looking up at Miss Holden’s cottage. Taking one final deep breath, she crossed the road, unlatched the wooden gate and walked nervously up the flagstone path. She had no idea how Miss Holden was going to respond to her turning up at her door at seven thirty in the morning. The teacher had given April her numbers to ‘call any time’, but she hadn’t wanted to call ahead in case Miss Holden tried to put her off. She needed to talk right now. So Fiona, with her computer wizardry, had managed to track her address down from a social networking website.
‘Well, she did say “my door is always open”,’ April whispered to herself as she knocked on the sky-blue door. She waited, expecting to get the biggest telling-off of her life. After all, if April was in Miss Holden’s shoes, having students appearing on her front step was the last thing she’d want.
Oh no, what if she has a boyfriend? What if he answers the door?
But no strangers came; in fact there was no movement inside of any kind. She knocked again and waited, but the house was silent.
April stepped back and looked up at the windows. Miss Holden’s bedroom window, perhaps? The curtains were still drawn. She was now imagining all sorts of things going on
behind those drapes.
Calm down, April
, she scolded herself.
She’s most likely just asleep
. She wouldn’t be pleased to be woken up by some schoolgirl, though. She glanced back at the garden gate and considered running away, but she couldn’t back out now. Besides, Miss Holden had been the one who had told her to get in touch, who had told her how important she was. April glanced at her watch – seven forty-five. Teachers at Ravenwood were always in school before the students turned up at eight thirty – she must be up. Maybe she was in the kitchen – it was worth a try, wasn’t it? She followed the stone path around the house to the left and ducked under the branches of a tree, moving along the side of the house and into the back garden. It was just as neat and tidy here, with flower-beds, a small lawn and a large patch which had obviously been given over to growing vegetables. April felt uncomfortable here, trespassing. It was too private and personal back here, as if she was going through her teacher’s handbag or something. Nervously, April peered in though the back window – it was indeed the kitchen. She could see the old-fashioned Aga and a big wooden table spread with the papers and a cup of coffee; she could even see the steam rising from the mug.
‘Hello, April.’
April almost jumped in the air, turning around with her hand clutched to her chest. Miss Holden was walking down the garden path towards her, carrying a basket.
‘Miss Holden! You scared me!’
‘I could say the same thing to you,’ said the teacher. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Sorry, I just needed to talk to you, to … to … someone,’ she stammered. ‘I knocked at the front door, but there was no answer and I didn’t want to wake you, but …’ April realised she was babbling and trailed off. ‘Sorry,’ she repeated.
‘It’s okay,’ said Miss Holden. ‘I was in the greenhouse and I thought you were a burglar, but then I suppose even burglars like a lie-in.’
‘Sorry, I …’
‘Don’t worry, I’m glad you came, actually. Why don’t you come inside, I’ve just made coffee.’
The kitchen was warm and cosy, decorated in a traditional style with wooden worktops and tiled walls. She immediately felt safe and at home there. Something soft brushed against her leg and she looked down to see a Siamese cat rubbing its tail against her.
‘Don’t mind Jasper, he’s just hoping you’ll feed him.’
April bent over to give the cat a stroke, but he trotted away, then jumped up onto the counter, fixing April with an imperious gaze.
Miss Holden laughed. ‘That’s cats for you. Fickle.’
April sat down at the table and Miss Holden put a mug of coffee in front of her.
‘Toast?’
April wrinkled her nose.
‘I’m not very hungry these days.’
‘I can imagine,’ said the teacher, sitting opposite her. ‘These past few weeks can’t have been easy for you.’
‘No, they haven’t. That’s why I’m here so early, really. I’ve got all these things going around in my head, all these things I need to do, but I don’t know how to make them happen so I end up just worrying more.’
‘What’s worrying you?’
April laughed, thinking,
Where do I start?
, but Miss Holden didn’t smile.
‘That I can’t trust anyone, I suppose.’
‘Well that’s a good thing. A strong instinct. You can’t tell who’s a vampire, who’s a recruit and who has their own agendas, not even the people closest to you.’
‘You mean Gabriel?’
‘I didn’t say that, but it can’t be easy for you to be … dating? Is that what you say these days? It can’t be easy dating a vampire.’
It was still strange hearing Miss Holden say ‘vampire’ in such a matter-of-fact way, like it was entirely natural to find them hanging about the neighbourhood.
‘It’s not that I don’t trust him,’ said April. ‘I do. It’s just that – well, I’m the Fury, aren’t I? I’m supposed to be super-attractive to vampires, to draw them in and whatnot. So I worry that maybe Gabriel likes me because I’m like some sort of vampire catnip, not because he actually likes me.’
April hadn’t even been aware it was bothering her until she had said it out loud.
Miss Holden smiled.
‘That, I can’t help you with. But from what I know about him, he doesn’t enter any relationship lightly. But I will add: he is a vampire, and vampires are not in control of themselves. You saw what that catnip can do to them.’
April knew Miss Holden was trying to warn her, telling her that Gabriel was only one step away from becoming like Marcus – that a vampire could turn on you at any moment. In fact, Gabriel had said the same thing. She knew she should be scared, but instead she simply felt a huge surge of relief. Her mind had latched onto one vital piece of information: Gabriel didn’t play the field and therefore he must be serious about her.
‘And this Fury thing, it’s starting to worry me. Last night …’
‘What? What happened last night?’
What
did
happen? What could she say?
I went a bit mental?
And then April realised Miss Holden would be angry if she thought she’d exposed her abilities to the Suckers.
‘Nothing, it’s just when I get angry, I don’t feel I can control it, it’s like I’ve … it’s like I’ve turned into my mother.’
Miss Holden gave a half-smile.
‘I can see why you might say that. But the truth is, you’re not in control of it right now, and especially not if you get emotional. It’s like anything, learning the piano or learning to drive: it takes practice to perfect.’
‘I wish I was just learning to drive. Then I could get away from all this.’
The older woman nodded sympathetically.
‘I wish I could tell you not to worry, that you can run away from it, but I can’t.’
‘Oh.’
‘There’s no point pretending, April, as much as we all might want to. We are surrounded by vampires and they’re on the move. They’ve killed at least three people in Highgate and they’ve tried to kill you – if they find out what you are, they’ll try again. Which is why it’s vital you learn to control your abilities.’
‘And how am I supposed to do that?’
‘Well, that’s where I come in. I can help you understand what’s happening to you and learn how to use it effectively, but that’s going to take time and that’s why we can’t allow the vampires to discover you’re a Fury.’
April felt a little bad, remembering how she’d reacted when Gabriel said the same thing.
‘And do you really think they’re everywhere? I thought maybe I was paranoid to think they were watching me.’
‘Not paranoid, no. Even if they don’t know you’re a Fury, the vampires will still be drawn to you. And anyway, you were there when Isabelle was killed, your father was murdered and you’ve been attacked by some sort of rogue vampire; it would be strange if they weren’t watching you already.’
April took a deep breath, struggling not to panic. Here was a woman who seemed to understand the vampires telling her that she
was
being followed, she
was
being watched – that the shadowy figures in the cemetery and the square the other night probably
were
vampires.
When will it all end
, she thought miserably,
don’t I have enough to deal with already?
Master some sort of ‘abilities’, hide them from the vampires, find and kill the Vampire Regent, save her dying boyfriend and avenge her father. Tears began to roll down her face.
‘Sorry, April. I wish I could give you more good news, but you have to understand that the stakes are about as high as they can get. If we don’t stop the vampires, if we don’t bring down Ravenwood, there’s a good chance our cosy world could turn into a living hell overnight – and I’m afraid it has fallen to you to fight back. But you’re not on your own. I’m here to help you. So are the rest of the Guardians – we will do our best to stop them together.’
‘What do you want to stop, and who are the Guardians? How many of you are there? What do you do?’
Miss Holden glanced at the clock.
‘I’m sorry, April, we don’t have time now. We’ve both got to get to school. All you need to know is that there are more of us than you think, and that we’re here to help.’
Her disappointment and fear must have shown on April’s face because Miss Holden reached out and touched her hand.
‘Okay, I can see that this is all getting to you. Why don’t you tell me what you need from us – from me – right now.’
April looked across at Jasper, who seemed to be looking back with one eyebrow raised.
Do cats even have eyebrows?
April didn’t know where to start. Her dad’s death? Saving Gabriel? What was going on at Ravenwood and who was behind it?
‘I want to find that book and save Gabriel.’ That was the truth – Gabriel was dying and her heart was dying with him. She had to do everything in her power to help him.
Miss Holden took a moment to sip her coffee.
‘And then what?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What will you do when you’ve saved Gabriel?’
‘Well, then we have to find the Regent and …’
‘And what? Hand them over to the police?’
‘I, uh, I hadn’t really thought about it …’
‘Bullshit.’
April looked at her teacher, her eyes wide.
‘I’m sorry, April, but you’re telling me you watched your father die, sitting in a pool of his blood, and the thought of avenging him has never crossed your mind?’
‘Well, of course I’ve had moments where I …’
‘Where you what?’
‘I don’t know …’
‘What, April?’ said Miss Holden, leaning towards her, her face severe. ‘What would you do if you found the Regent? What would you do if you found the animals who killed your dad?’
‘I’d tear their throats out!’ yelled April, jumping to her feet. ‘I’d make them suffer like he suffered!’
Miss Holden sat back, her face serious.
‘And that’s the truth,’ she said quietly. ‘The truth is you couldn’t hand them over to the authorities. It’s very unlikely we’d ever get any evidence you could use in a court of law and, even then, I doubt any prison could hold a vampire for very long.’
‘So you’re telling me I’ll never get justice for my father’s murder?’ said April incredulously. ‘You’re saying they’ll get away with it?’
‘Well, that depends on you.’
April felt cold. She had a sneaking suspicion she wasn’t going to like what came next.
‘What do you mean, on me?’
‘You, a Fury. The vampires’ nemesis. I want to be sure you understand exactly what we’re talking about here, April. You have to kill them. We’re not investigating a mystery, you are a soldier going to war. Make no mistake, they will kill you without a thought – and they will enjoy it – so you had better be prepared to kill them.’