Aiden wraps me into his arms. I feel his emotions shift from satisfaction and worry to something both worried and more predatory. “Won a battle, maybe, not the war,” he tells me comfortingly, and I wonder if he is already plotting the next move. “Not if their goal is Blackmarsh.” He falls silent. I draw back enough to look into his face, and his expression is distant. He focuses on me again after a long minute. “Let’s talk,” he says. “I have things to explain.”
We snuggle on the sofa. I want the strength and reassurance of him against me, holding me. I could face this alone, if I had to. I need to remind myself of that. I don’t need to face it alone.
“I asked my friends from college to join my Pack,” Aiden says when we are settled. “Most of them said yes, and the only one w
I’m doing this for Sarah, but I’m putting her in more danger. Or maybe, making some things less dangerous for her in one way but more dangerous in another. The protection from Cavendish has never been enough to keep her safe from vampires as a whole. She’s proved she has power to face them herself, with the help of Blackmarsh. I’m so twisted up about this. Partly because I don’t really know the true value of any of it. Sarah seems to think that having a vampire controlling their next door neighbours is a threat to the whole country. Why there, instead of the places owned by the British royal family? Does’t Blackmarsh have other neighbours anyway? There’s the coast on the West side of them. A bit more than one side, the coastline cuts in on the South side. East of Blackmarsh is wild moorland. Why wasn’t that under threat too? Trying to answer that, I found the
As the taxi drives away, I wonder if I should have gone with Aiden. Stood by his side. Werewolf or not, it seems I’m the one the vampires should be afraid of. Have I let down the whole of my gender by standing back and letting my man face danger on his own? Perhaps, but I’m glad I don’t need to face Cavendish.Besides, I have no idea how much control I really have over Blackmarsh’s army of ghosts. Bellmouth has always just seemed to show up on his own. Mind you, he shows up when I am not in mortal danger, and merely feel in need of comfort. Have I been summoning him all this time, and not realising it? The Grey Woman and Great Uncle Mathewe showed up for me when I had no idea I needed rescuing, though, so I couldn’t have summoned them. Then again, I don’t think any of the ghosts except Bellmouth have ever left Blackmarsh for anyone else in the family.
Nobody’s laughed yet. That’s good, right? If they haven’t straight up mixed the idea, they’ll maybe think about it. So they’ll want time to talk about it without me in the room. “You’ll want to get back to your guests, and I’m keeping you.” I’ve been talking to all of them, but I look at Cavendish now. “There’s just the matter of a favour.” Maybe he’ll want to discuss that alone. Maybe not. He waves a hand in a ‘go on’ gesture, without even pausing to think about it, so I carry on. “You know of Walther Sutcliffe.” I pause just for a moment, checking. I’m pretty sure of it, but pretty sure isn’t certain. The vampire I think is the Prince keeps his expression blank. I guess he’s had a lot of practice at that. Hell, he’s got the right sort of unreadable face to keep every secret in the world. His lack of expression now is the blank of not giving away what he thinks about Sutcliffe, not the blank of someone w
Mary has gone. Back to Blackmarsh, I presume, but clearly she is not confined there so who knows. Perhaps ghosts take holidays and have night clubs and a life… a death?... beyond what we see of them. I am pacing the floor, which is not productive. I should have gone with Aiden. I would know what was happening. What use is Aiden being able to speak to me in my mind if he doesn’t? Rationally, I know he’s probably concentrating and doesn’t need the distraction. Perhaps he’s not even there yet, and has nothing to report. Perhaps he cannot use the link at any distance anyway. His emotions remain steady, wary and anxious but no worse. It seems like hours but it is more like five minutes that go by. I am still pacing the floor, and will wear a hole in my rented carpet, and lose my
I fumble with the door key. I feel clumsy. Werewolves need as much sleep as humans, and I haven’t had enough. I get the key into the door on the third try and stumble inside, letting it close behind me. It’s Sarah’s apartment, not my own room, but it feels like home anyway and a weight rolls from my shoulders now I’m back. I lift my head, and there is an angel standing in front of me. An angel wearing a silky little top and tiny lacy panties. An angel with a gleaming halo of black hair framing her face. The light of the lamps paints the softness of her dark skin with an aura of rich gold. Her feet are bare, the nail of each toe glittering silver. My eyes follow the long sweep of her slender legs, past the enticing sliver of skin between her panties and her top, up past the bow of her collarbones and the soft skin at the side of her neck where I set my Mark on her. There’s no makeup to hide her beauty, no
“/...Imogen?/” I hear Aiden’s voice. I can’t see him. I am floating in a mist, but I am warm and relaxed. It feels the way that clouds look. Soft and fluffy. It smells faintly of candyfloss. “/Father?/” I don’t recognise the voice. It’s a girl’s voice, or that of a young woman. “/No, it’s Aiden./” Aiden is talking to someone? I can’t see either of them, just this peach-pink fluffiness. I don’t feel scared. Am I drugged?
When I wake up, I’m in a comfy tangle of Sarah and bed clothes. I can guess the time by the faint light creeping past the curtains. I don’t think it’ll be too long before the alarm clock reminds us that I have college. I mumble some sort of complaint, and get a sleepy response from my Mate that makes even less sense than I did.I spit out a few strands of Sarah’s glossy hair. “What time is it?”She gropes for the clock and turns it so she can see the numbers. “Early enough to mess about in bed before getting up?” she suggests, squirming around until she’s nose to nose with me and winding her arms around my neck.“We should probably talk,” I say with a sigh of regret. Messing about in bed sounds way more fun. “I couldn’t sleep at first, las
We do manage to get out of bed, dressed, and breakfasted, in good time for Aiden to be on his way to college. By now we almost have a routine. Give it another week and it will probably have become a habit, unless we are interrupted by further disasters. Disasters do rather seem to have become normality.I am uncertain whether to contact Blackmarsh now about the sale, or whether to wait until it’s obvious that Cavendish has been able to stop it. I don’t want to get everybody’s hopes up and then find that Aiden’s plan fails. Nor do I want them to be driving themselves to their wit’s end trying to work out what to do to stop the sale, only for them to learn that their efforts were wasted and everything in hand. In the end, I leave a message on the answerphone saying that Aiden has put a plan into action that might stop the sale, but we won’t know for certain that it’s