Kyle’s arms tighten briefly. ‘I’m here,’ he says, feather quiet. ‘I have you. Don’t worry.’
My mother stands, moonlight turning her red dress to the colour of dried blood. The small group of humans cry out, the words unclear. The desperation is not. I’m shaking. The humans try to move back but the chains make it difficult, bound as they are in a group. Raven guards step forward, herding them towards my mother, who stands, waiting.
Maybe I can’t watch this.
Her voice rings out, clear in the darkness. ‘Five nights ago, at the height of our most sacred festival, an attack took place. In my own home, the ancient seat of Raven, targeting my beloved husband.’
There’s a murmur from the crowd. The prisoners’ wails grow louder. A Raven guard strikes one of them, who falls limp in his chains.
My mother continues. ‘Fortunately, Aleksandr Raven survived the attack, and is whole once more. However, there were others—’ the Lion clan representative steps forward, fists clenched at his side ‘—who were not so lucky. Such an attack, on my home, on the house of Raven, on those I love most, will not be borne.’ She pauses, letting her words sink in. It’s utterly silent, except for the whimpering humans. My heart is breaking.
‘Therefore, we asked our most trusted lieutenant, a prince of the House of Raven, to act on our behalf. Mistral, are these the prisoners you promised?’ She gestures with one graceful arm towards the shuffling mass of chained humans.
Well, of course they fucking are. Who else would they be? But her words have the ring of ritual and I guess they’re part of what happens. Doesn’t matter how they sugar-coat it with fancy phrases and thrones, though – this is going to be a slaughter. I blink back tears.
Mistral steps forward, his blond hair silvered by the moon. ‘They are, my lady. Vicious rebels, every one of them, committed to the destruction of our house.’
There are hisses from the crowd. One of the humans shouts something, it sounds like a denial. But it’s too late. My mother holds out her hand. My father, all in black, rises from his throne and comes to take it. My breath gasps in and out. My father appears to be frowning, but then he usually looks stern. Together, they approach the chained humans. My mother takes the arm of the human closest to her, an older, stocky man. My father does the same, taking the hand of a young woman. It’s like a dance, the two of them so beautiful, so graceful, moving in tandem, counterpoint to the horror they’re about to unleash. Both of them are gentle in their movements, in how they raise the arms to their lips. And bite down. The woman screams, the man struggling. But my parents are strong, so much stronger than they could ever be. The crowd is dead silent, wind whispering around the stones. My father steps back first. There’s blood around his mouth. He doesn’t wipe it away. My mother steps back, blood smeared down her perfect chin. Both humans are still upright, though the woman is staggering. My parents return to their thrones. Still standing, my mother faces the crowd, raising both arms. Her voice rings through the silent night. ‘First blood has been taken. Let it begin.’
Fuck. I think if Kyle let go of me, I’d fall.
Two Raven guards step forward. One is smiling. With deft movements they snap the chains holding the humans together. A final mockery of their weakness. Ofmyweakness. As the chains part, the one whom the guard struck falls to the ground, limbs askew. The others scatter. But where the hell are they supposed to go?
Oh, this is too cruel.
I guess I’m glad my mother didn’t drug them, the way Jaguar used to in his stone temples, that at least they get to choose how to meet their deaths. But is this choice? As the humans run for the edges of the clearing, the group of vampires around the two thrones, including Mistral, move to capture them. The crowd isn’t quiet anymore, shrieking and moaning as the bloodlust rises. Three of the humans, two women and a man, make it past the row of Raven guards. Or rather, the guards let them pass. The crowd surges forward, swallowing them up.
Mistral catches up to one woman, groping her before he takes her head between his hands and twists, holding her in a mockery of an embrace as he drains her dry. The other vampires have caught their first victims as well, their limbs flailing and jerking then, as life ebbs from them, becoming still. Their bodies are left where they fall.
I sob, raw sounds coming from my throat, my chest heaving. Kyle murmurs soothing words, his hands gentle on me as though trying to calm a wild creature. But I didn’t know. How could I know? I’ve lived among vampires my whole life but never,neverhave I seen them hunt. It’s horrific. The Lion clan member, roaring like his namesake, moves in a blur, pouncing upon his prey. Two other vampires each take an arm of another victim, and pull. Blood sprays, black against the silvery grass. Through all of this, my parents sit on their thrones, blood on their faces. My father turns to my mother and says something. She stares straight ahead.
There aren’t many left now.
One, a young man, has made his way across the clearing. I realise it was the one who’d been struck by the guard. He must have been playing dead, hoping they wouldn’t notice him in the frenzy. He’s made it up onto one of the large boulders directly below us, curling himself into a ball, as though he can make himself so small he might disappear. My heart is in my mouth. I will him to escape, to make it. He looks up and sees me. His mouth and eyes open wide. So do mine. I recognise him.
It’s the boy from the cage at the Dome.
What the hell? He’s no rebel, surely. There’s no way a rebel would sit in a cage, offering himself to vampires. So, either Mistral is full of shit and these people are no more rebels than I am, or… a frightened boy in a cage is some sort of terrorist. I know which theory I find more plausible.
I look up and see Mistral… coming towards the boy. Shitshitshit. ‘Go!’ I mouth silently. ‘Go!’ The boy stares at me a second longer, his dark eyes pools of fear, then tries to leap to the next rock. Mistral is too fast for him. The big vampire pounces, all muscle and fury, pulling the boy from mid-air and tearing him to pieces. Blood spatters up the hillside, almost to my feet. Kyle pulls me back, deeper into the shadows.
‘Shit, that was close,’ I hear him mutter.
I am lost. Kyle releases me and I crumple to the ground, curling up against the rock. I can’t stop crying and retching. I don’t care if we’re found, I don’t care about anything. All I see is the boy’s face, the terror in his eyes as he faced death. And Mistral, that lying sack of shit, taking him from mid-air like a hawk with a sparrow.
‘Hey, hey, Emelia.’ Kyle crouches down, his touch gentle, wiping away my tears and snot and spit. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’
‘The boy,’ I hiccup the words. ‘He was, he wasn’t, he isn’t…’
‘Yeah, I recognised him too.’ Kyle’s tone is grim as he gathers me into his arms. I push my face into his chest, crying, utterly broken. ‘C’mon. Let’s get out of here.’
He puts his hands under my armpits, pulling me to my feet.
Then another voice speaks. ‘Who have we here?’
Fuuuuckk.
Kyle tenses. Keeping me behind him, he turns. I rub my eyes, peering over his shoulder. A figure steps from the shadows. A moment later, I recognise who it is.
