‘Here.’ She pulls back, taking something from one of the pockets of her voluminous robe. It’s a small square package wrapped in black silk and tied with a silver bow. ‘From your father and me.’ Her dark eyes are shining, a faint flush to her pale cheeks. I suppose she’s just fed.
‘Where’s Father?’
‘Oh—’ she flaps her hand ‘—supervising something in the ballroom, I think. He’s obsessed with every detail.’
Hurt blooms. He can’t even come and see me for Halloween. I don’t say anything.
‘Emelia.’ My mother takes my hands in hers, the laughter gone from her voice. ‘He loves you, so much. It’s just, there’s a lot going on at the moment. And you know how important the ball is. He’s looking forward to seeing you later.’
‘Sure.’ More important than me, I guess.
‘Come on.’ She tilts her head so she’s looking up at me. ‘Open your gift. Please?’
I take the parcel from her, undoing the silk to reveal a square wooden box, my initials carved into the top and inlaid with silver. There’s a card as well, written in dark red ink.
‘It’s gorgeous,’ I say, turning it in my hands. ‘Thank you.’
She shakes her head. ‘No, no, open it!’
I open the small box. Nestled on black velvet is a pendant on a long silver chain, delicate links interspersed with tiny silver beads. The pendant is silver, too, ebony enamel and diamonds making up the Raven crest. It’s beautiful. I lift it from the box, the candle-lamp making it sparkle.
‘Do you like it?’ My mother puts her arm around me and I lean into her.
‘I love it,’ I say. ‘Thank you.’
‘I’m so glad.’ She pauses. ‘Is there something else troubling you, dear one?’
‘I’m fine,’ I say. ‘Looking forward to the party.’ Lies.
‘Hmmm.’ She regards me a moment longer, her eyes narrowed. Then she tilts her head, glancing back as though she hears something. She smiles. ‘Come now, you must get ready. Guests are arriving, the celebration’s starting soon.’ There’s a wildness to her voice and I take in a breath, caught in the magic of it, of Halloween. Maybe tonight won’t be so bad.
She hugs me once more. ‘Will you wear your necklace?’
‘I will, I love it.’
‘I love you, too.’ I feel her kiss on my brow and then she’s gone, the door closing.
* * *
The hallway is wide and high-ceilinged, gold carvings like lace decorating the rust-coloured walls. Music, sinuous and sweet, emanates from beyond the double doors up ahead. Guards stand at intervals, two more following me. I smooth my hands down my skirt, waiting for the ballroom doors to open, the scent of my anti-feed curling in my nostrils. I know I’ll never be as beautiful as any of the vampires in there, all chiselled perfection, but I like my dress, at least. The fitted bodice is held up by thin silk straps, the long skirt flaring from my hips to swirl around my feet. There’s a tasselled belt at my waist, twisted silver and black silk threads fastened with the house crest, matching my new necklace. My shoes are silver as well, straps wrapping my feet fastened by wickedly pointed buckles studded with small diamonds. If I blur my eyes, I even look like my mother – same dark hair, same pale slender limbs.
I make my entrance, brushing aside the guards as they try to announce me. I’m not ready to be noticed yet. The ballroom is lit with candles, flames dancing in the huge chandeliers, the glow of electric candle-lamps picking up the glitter of gold-painted wall panels, the shimmer of diamonds and silk. There are also guards, lots of them, more than I ever recall seeing at a party, standing at intervals along the walls. Kyle isn’t among them. The air smells of violets and smoke and perfume, is filled with laughter and conversation. Blood dancers in scraps of black chiffon and lace work the room, their veins marked with silver glitter.
Would you like it?
I look at our blood dancers, smiling and healthy, laughing and dancing, and try to imagine how it would feel to be one of them. When I was small I thought they were beautiful, complained when I wasn’t allowed to wear glitter like they did. Now, for the first time, I wonder at their lives beyond our walls, whether they know about the rebellion brewing out there, while the Raven elite dance and drink and celebrate their great victory.
For a moment, everything seems strange and different. Like I’ve wandered into a world I’ve never seen before, the whirling vampires grotesque, the contortions of the blood dancers like pain, rather than ecstasy. It’s as though something has ignited inside me, burning through old walls, my old way of thinking.
I look around, wondering if Kyle is here, then spot my mother across the room. She’s changed from her robe into a fitted dress of crimson silk, strapless, her alabaster shoulders bare. She’s wearing the Raven insignia on her choker, jet and diamonds around her slender neck, glittering chains of silver in her dark hair. A tall blond vampire is talking to her, his head bent close. I recognise him. Mistral. Ofcoursehe’s hanging around Mother. I change direction but she sees me, beckoning me over. Damn. I paste a smile on my face and head over, curtseying when I reach them.
‘No need for that.’ Mistral takes my hand, raising it to his lips. ‘It is I who should bow to you, Emelia Raven, heir to our throne. She’s more like you every day.’ He turns to my mother, who smiles, her onyx eyes flicking to me.
‘She is, isn’t she?’
‘And yet…’ Mistral tilts his head. I frown. My mother raises her eyebrows.
‘And yet…?’
