Where Loyalty Lies (34 page)

“I can’t go,” I said.

All three heads turned to look at me. Henry looked so shocked I might as well have just said I believed I was a fairy from the land of Narnia.

“Why not?” Saul asked, concern furrowing his brow.

“Because I have plans,” I said. Then, when they all kept staring at me, I sighed and explained, “On Christmas Eve I’ll be here in my pyjamas, curled up on the sofa with a pile of junk food, a snowball with a cherry in the bottom of the glass, surrounded by every tacky Christmas decoration I can get my hands on.”

Silence. Henry’s face lit up in an odd grin like he wasn’t sure if I was joking or if I’d gone a little crazy.

“Can’t you do that on Christmas Day instead?” Saul asked.

I shook my head. “This is my tradition and I certainly won’t be breaking it to go and spend the evening surrounded by a bunch of snot-nosed vampires who couldn’t give a flying fig about me.”  I stopped and then, seeing the surprise on their faces, added, “Present company excluded, obviously.”

“You’re serious,” Henry said.

“Yes, I’m serious. Christmas has never been a big thing for me. Mary always hated the commercialisation and she reminded me constantly that it was Christ’s day, not mine. She bought me one present every year and it was always a Bible, just to drive the message home. But Christmas Eves were different. Every year Mary spent Christmas Eve at church so I had the whole evening to myself. I’d hoard junk food for weeks, then drag it out once she was gone and watch whatever Christmas film was on. Of course it was only when I was living on my own that I was able to add the snowball and the tacky decorations.” I finished my reminiscing and looked around to see that I was now being viewed with pity. I squirmed in my chair, feeling uncomfortable with the attention. Sure my story was a little pathetic, but my tradition made me happy so that was all that mattered.

“Fair enough,” said Henry. “But surely you could at least go for tasteful decorations?”

“No, I did try one year to have everything matching and classy, but I have no eye for that kind of thing and so the whole ordeal just became stressful instead of fun and, when I sat in amongst it all, I felt frustrated that I was so incapable of creating anything at all stylish. So I just buy whatever I like the look of, stick it all around my room and think of it as tacky-chic.”

This confession brought smiles from Holt and Henry, even Saul looked like he was trying hard not to find my incompetence amusing. I changed the subject before Henry could make fun.

“Here.” I put the photos back in the folder and held it out to Saul. “You’d better put this back before someone notices it’s missing.”

He took it from me and a heavy look and a nod told me that I didn’t have to ask him to make sure nobody else saw it.

Holt moved to the door. “Okay, so we’ll start on our side of things, but, Faine, you have to promise you’ll tell us the second anything in your tests is inappropriate. No more knives and don’t let them push you; you just do what you’re comfortable with and if they want to get worked up over the results then leave them to it.” Holt looked at me expectantly.

I smiled. One of the benefits of spending so much time around vampires was that I was learning their ways. In this case, it was how to give Holt an answer that sounded like an agreement but actually gave me a loophole. I knew I’d suffer in silence, never telling Holt, because I knew he’d cause trouble with The Sénat if he found out. I also knew he wouldn’t leave this room until I gave him the promise he was waiting for.

“I promise I’ll tell you straight away if something happens I feel I can’t handle.”

There was my lovely loophole, now I just had to make sure I could handle things myself. Holt gave me a shrewd look and I could tell he was trying to work out if I’d deliberately phrased my answer like that, or if it had been an accident. I gave him my most innocent look and he seemed to decide that it had been an accident.

A glance at Saul told me he didn’t believe it at all. Before he could say anything, I excused myself and slipped into my bedroom, waiting until the door was fully closed before I allowed myself a little victory dance.

The library had become one of my favourite places to spend my free time. I’d always loved the escape of a book and, when you paired that with the magnificence of this library, I couldn’t understand why it was never busier. I’d pick out my favourite chair and spend hours at a time snuggled up in its silky soft leather, working my way through all the books I’d always intended to read.

Word seemed to have got around about my habits and, most days now, I was being hit on. It made me laugh how many vamps had asked if I wanted to go somewhere more fun. Had it never occurred to them that I spent so long sitting here because I actually enjoyed it?

It hadn’t taken me long to realise that subtlety didn’t work with most vampires and so I eventually stopped making small talk in order to be polite and just gave them a nod as they entered, then I pretended to be so engrossed in my book that I didn’t notice them hovering around me and clearing their throats louder than a cat hacking up a hair ball. A few had tried the patient approach and taken a seat close to me, hoping to catch me as I left, but none of them had lasted more than two hours. It really was quite comical to witness and it added an extra element of entertainment to my reading time.

I wriggled a little in my chair, it was Thursday morning and I let the satisfying feeling wash over me, knowing that I had two free days stretched out in front of me.

When the door opened again I glanced up. It was Monique. I didn’t bother with the polite nod this time, I just carried on reading. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her move off and disappear behind a row of shelves.

As I neared the end of my chapter she re-emerged and came to stand in front of me, whatever book she’d located in her hand. She didn’t seem bothered by my standoffishness.

“I must say, you seem to be handling all of this very well,” she said, her voice light.

I gave her a winning smile. “Thank you.” Then I flipped the page and returned to my copy of
The Lord of The Rings
.

“I’m not sure I’d be as composed as you, given all the facts.” She hadn’t moved.

I shut my book and gave her a level stare. Once again she looked stunning, her auburn hair loose around her shoulders and today’s dress a deep emerald green that matched her eyes perfectly.

“Look, Monique, it’s obvious you have something you’re desperate to tell me, so why don’t we just cut the crap and get to the nitty-gritty?” Her eyes slitted at me in dislike but then a look of satisfaction settled on her face. It made me nervous. Anything that made her that happy was not going to be good for me.

“How much do you know about half-vampires?” she asked.

“Well, I guess that depends on how you look at it,” I replied. “Being the only one, I’m pretty sure I have a more intimate knowledge than most, but I think it will take a few years before I realise my true potential.” The words came out sounding vaguely threatening even though I hadn’t meant them to.

To my surprise Monique chuckled.

“So it really is true, you don’t know.” She shot me her own winning smile and I felt a lead weight settle somewhere in my gut.

“Know what?” I asked, mentally preparing myself.

Monique leant down so that her face was only a couple of inches from my own.

“You’re not the first half-breed, not by a long shot. Hundreds have come before you, but they were all slaughtered in their cribs so the world would be rid of filth like you. You’re nothing special. The only thing amazing about you is that you’ve managed to avoid the stake for so long.”

I hurled myself at her and, before I knew it, I had her up against the wall. I guess my combat training had paid off because I had no memory of how we’d got here.

“You’re lying,” I hissed.

“No.” Despite her position between me and the wall, she smiled, but this time it was sly. “I’m not the one that’s been lying to you.”

I felt something dig into my ribs and looked down to see the book she’d been holding positioned between us. It was open and, as I looked at the double page spread, I gasped. I took the book with shaking hands and stepped back, somehow hoping that different lighting would change the black and white sketch. It didn’t. My eyes hovered over the scene, not quite able to take it in. It was a gory image of a group of vampires on horseback, eyes black and fangs showing as they cheered in victory. They were decked out in battle gear, covered in what I assumed was blood and one of them was holding the severed head of a woman. Behind them was a huge pile of bodies. My eyes filled with tears as I looked over the pile and noticed it was all women and children. When I saw the body of a baby, I quickly looked away from the pile and noticed the caption at the bottom of the page, “The great half-breed slaying of 1835”
.
My tears spilled out and ran down my cheeks.

I looked back at Monique to see she was still smiling and the meaning of her last words began to sink in. No
she
hadn’t been lying, which meant that other people had.

I turned and ran, not caring that I knocked into people on the way. When I reached my rooms, I burst through the door and slammed it shut so hard it rattled in the frame. All three of them were sitting there, as I’d known they would be. Thomas was also there, sitting opposite Henry at the dining room table while they played cards. Holt and Saul were sitting at either end of the sofa. All of them stared at me in astonishment.

“What’s wrong?” Saul asked, standing up and moving towards me.

“No!” I screamed. I realised the hideous book was still in my hand and I hurled it at his head.

Saul ducked and the book went sailing across the room, hit the wall and landed on the floor with a thud.

“You don’t get to ask questions. It’s my turn. When the hell were you going to tell me?”

Thomas stood and slipped out of the room. I let him go.

“Tell you what?” Holt asked. “Faine, what’s happened?”

I ignored his questions and watched as Henry crossed to the book and picked it up. He read the cover and swore. Holt and Saul turned to see what he was swearing at and got a glimpse of the object that was accountable for my behaviour. They all stared at me again but, this time, it was guilt that marred their faces. I stared back. It was unbearable. I’d trusted them; I’d truly come to rely on them and they’d betrayed me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked again. My voice was thick with the lump in my throat but I was already crying so I didn’t try to cover it up.

“I’m sorry, Faine.” Holt stepped towards me but I took a step back, not wanting to be close to him. “We all are, but we didn’t think it would help to weigh you down with this.”

“No, it wouldn’t have helped, but it would have stopped me looking like an idiot when I was told. It would have come as less of a shock when I had a book shoved in my face that depicts hundreds of people being murdered just because we’re considered some sort of disease.”

Saul looked like he wanted to step forwards but he knew I wouldn’t let him anywhere near me.

“Who gave this to you?”

“Why does that matter?” I snapped.

“Because they’ve obviously done it to upset you and I want to know who it is.”

I shook my head. “They’re not the one at fault here. Yes, they did it to hurt me but they’re nothing to me. You’re the ones to blame for not telling me. How could you even think I wouldn’t find out? Didn’t you think this was something I needed to know? You must be able to see what this means to me. Those people are me.”

“Faine, you have to understand that nothing like that will ever happen to you,” Holt assured me.

“Why? Because I’m too old to be murdered? Because, unlike those babies and children, I’m capable of standing up for myself?”

The idea of so many innocent children being murdered crashed into me again. My mind reeled at the awfulness and unfairness of it all and I broke into loud sobs. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. I felt an arm go around me and I shrugged it off, pushing away the owner of it without even opening my eyes.

“Get out,” I said. When I didn’t hear the door open, I looked up. Saul was very close to me. “Get out,” I said again. “All of you.”

“Faine...” Holt tried to speak but I cut him off.

“GET OUT!” I shouted. “Unless I’m mistaken this is my room and I don’t want any of you in here so just go; I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

For a moment none of them moved but then Holt headed towards the door followed by Henry. Saul looked like he wanted to say something.

“Go,” I said, glaring at him.

He left, closing the door behind him.

My strength left me, my legs buckled and I landed on the floor, my back resting against the couch. I stayed there crying for a long time making no effort to keep my sobs quiet. When there were no more tears left to fall and my head was pounding like it always did after I cried, I sat and stared at nothing in particular until my gaze landed on the book that was still sitting on the coffee table where Henry had left it.

I wanted to destroy it. To kick it over and over before ripping it into tiny little pieces and burning it so that it no longer existed. But I knew what I had to do. I had to read it. I knew the pages were going to be packed with horrific images and information that I’d carry with me forever but I had no choice. It was my history and I needed to know everything because, somehow, I’d been the only one to avoid this fate.