“I woke up in a cage,” she says. “Each new vampire had their own cage with silver bars. And I was so,sothirsty.” She makes her way through the pages, finding another drawing. This one is of a large hall, with rows upon rows of cages. Some of them are broken. The silhouettes inside each cage are a blur, but only one, a girl in the cage closest to where Julia must have been, is drawn with photorealistic detail.
“They were starving us on purpose. Do you know what happens to a vampire if they don’t drink blood?”
I nod. If a vampire goes seven days without drinking blood, they becomeparched.Slowly, I try to wrap my head around what Julia is telling me. The nightmare she went through. Then I think of my parents. Their deaths, at the hands of parched vampires.
Before I can jump to conclusions, she resumes her story. “The people in the cages around me began to transform, and although I don’t remember her name”—she presses her finger beneath the caged woman in her sketch—“we promised each other that whoever turned first would try to get the other one out. She didn’t tell me, but she’d spent four days without blood already, because three days after I woke up in there…”
Her pale eyes become bloodshot.
“She—transformed?” I whisper.
“She burst right through her cage,” Julia says. “I’m not sure if you’ve ever seen a parched vampire. They’re huge. But somehow, in her last moment of sanity, she—” Julia tightens her grip on her sketchbook. “She cracked the bars of my cage, not enough for the others to notice, but enough for me to…”
She lets me fill in the gaps of what happened next. “I was so thirsty, I couldn’t think straight. Somehow, I made it to a hospital, and instinct led me to the morgue.” Her shoulders tremble. “Before I could desecrate a corpse, Ife’s brother found me.”
She inhales deeply, closing her sketchbook with a thump. “And now you’ll never look at me the same,” she says in a small voice.
Instinctively, I grab her hand. “Don’t say that.” I feel my throat tighten. “None of what happened was your fault.”
Julia bites down another pained smile, her pale lashes damp. “I couldn’t save anyone. All those people—” I squeeze her hand. I want to tell her that I know how she feels. But I can’t think of any words that fit the hole in Julia’s chest. I can’t find them for myself, either. Just revenge.
“The people who kidnapped you…” I tread carefully, waiting for her to change the subject. But she doesn’t. “Did they have any emblems? Anything…” She opens the first page of her sketchbook, and there it is, an insignia on someone’s uniform. A redV,with a silver sword cutting through it. Somehow, I know what it is. A shadowy vampire organisation that is not the Council is what Julia called them.The Vassals.She closes the book again, and I can hear my pulse in my ears. Both Aliz and Julia were victims of the Vassals.
And if Gustavsson is what I think he is, then my parents were also the Vassals’ victims.
“Does the Council know that happened to you?” I ask, and Julia frowns as she thinks.
“They must. Ife’s brother contacted them immediately. Though I can’t remember them interviewing me.”
“Ares Astra is the president of the Council,” I say carefully, and Julia tenses. “Do you think his”—I hesitate, unsure of what to call them—“visitscould have anything to do with how you were converted?”
“Maybe,” she whispers. “But luckily enough, I haven’t dreamt of him in three years.” She closes her sketchbook, holding it tight. “Remember, if you don’t want to be Astra’s familiar, I’m happy to sire you. Though I might need instructions on how to do that.”
“Thank you,” I say. She smiles. And although Julia doesn’t know it yet, I’m planning on avenging her, and all those humans she couldn’t save, too.
By the timeI reach the hunting lodge, everything that happened with Aliz has been summoned back into my mind. Elia sits by the entrance, and I stare up at the old palace in awe. She’s already finished decorating the exterior, cobwebs and ghosts on the top half, pumpkins and scarecrows between each column. Red fairy lights dangle from the wisteria. “What do you think?” she asks.
“I’m her Familiar,” I say. Elia’s eyes flicker to my neck, and she cocks her head.
“No, you’re not.”
“But Aliz compelled me.”
“With just her words?” she asks. I nod, weakness returning to my knees.
“Rebecca, you still have the thorned vines around the mark, don’t you?”
“Yes?” I ask, and Elia takes my hand, soothingme.
“If the contract were to be sealed, only the moon and the first ring of thorns would remain on your neck. All these other lines represent your resistance to the contract. Obviously your body, and Aliz’s powers, are going to try to make you seal the contract, so now it’s letting her feel the power of what comes with having a Blood Familiar.”
The pressure that had been building in my chest slowly starts to deflate. I sit down on the front steps and Elia crouches at my side. “It’s not too late,” she says, finger pausing on the mark. “You’re still free, Rebecca.”
“So, it’s up to her now?” I ask.
Elia sighs, looking out at the woods. “Seems like it. But Aliz is stronger than you think. She cares for you, you know.” I make a face. “Outside of whatever the mark makes her feel, she cares for you.”
“Gustavsson,” I say as I pick up one of the smaller pumpkins, knocking on it to check if it’s real. “Has he agreed to play at the ball?”
