‘So, Reapers lay down their lives to protect the network, and in return humans just have to donate blood?’
‘That’s pretty much it. No boundaries on human/vampire relationships. Just coexistence. Balance.’
‘And that’s how we like to keep it.’ A black clad figure bumps Michael with her shoulder. I can’t see her face, but her voice is instantly recognisable. Cass.
I tense. There’s something off-putting about the Reaper. The mask and goggles don’t help, especially when she turns to me.
‘He showing you around?’
I nod.
‘Good.’ Cass turns her attention to Michael. ‘I missed you, dickhead.’ She punches his shoulder. ‘So, you better not pull another fucking stunt like that again, or I’ll kill you myself.’
Shit. This doesn’t bode well for us getting out of here.
‘Hey, I’m just messing with him.’ The goggled head swings my way once more. ‘I do that to all my lovers.’
‘Ew.’ Michael shoves at her. ‘Stop it, Cass. She already knows we’re related.’
She laughs, her head going back. ‘Fine. Sorry. And I’m sorry about being a dick when you got here, too.’ Genuine affection laces her tone. ‘So, is this your girlfriend?’
‘No,’ Michael says. ‘She’s much more than that.’ He smiles, hugging me closer.
Despite the goggles, I get the feeling Cass has just rolled her eyes. ‘All right, get a room. Have you told her much about the place?’
‘A little,’ I say. ‘It’s … amazing. How things should be.’
‘Yeah. It is.’ Cass pauses. ‘You seen the lady’s shrine yet?’ Her voice softens.
‘The shrine?’
‘Right. Come on.’ She pulls Michael by the arm, dragging us down a narrow pathway, branches either side arching over us so we’re enclosed in green.
The path leads to another small clearing, but there are no buildings here. Just the green woods, echoing with the sounds of spring.
‘This place is sacred to Lady Morvenna, our founder. And the flower that symbolises everything we stand for.’ Cass bows her head.
I shake my head, unbelieving. It was right under my nose, the entire time.
A small statue stands at the centre of the clearing, which is almost perfectly circular and carpeted with flowering plants. Small red flowers.
ChapterForty-Three
THE SHRINE
Four pathways made of pale grey pebbles bisect the circular clearing like a cross. The weathered shrine at the centre is shaped like a roosting bird, wings curved around its body, a pool of water on its back reflecting the trees and sky. It’s a silent, beautiful place.
‘Is Lady Morvenna real, then?’ I whisper.
‘Real? I suppose she was, once. No one really knows. There are stories of her returning to help at times of need, a bit like the human legend of King Arthur, I suppose.’ There’s a smile in Cass’s voice.
‘And the red flowers?’
‘The scarlet pimpernel. That’s a fairly recent symbol. A counter to the red moons of the Rising.’ Scorn now colours her words. ‘It’s based on a story, a human book.’
‘Oh!’ A memory comes back to me. ‘I think I read it once. About a man in, er, France. During the Revolution. He smuggled aristocrats to safety, didn’t he?’
‘That’s right. It felt appropriate for us, apart from the aristocrats. We have no time for any of them. Reapers hold fealty to no one except the Lady.’
