I make my way along the narrow streets of the campus village,glancing up at the bars, all of them advertising blood. “I have another job for you,” Penny says. “Something unexpected has come up.”
“But I’ve just arrived,” I say, stopping in my tracks. She can’t make me leave. Not yet.
“A girl was found half drained in Inverness last Thursday,” Penny says, and my racing heart slows.
“Can’t you send someone else?” I ask.
“This should be easy. I just need some intel.”
“Fine,” I say. I spot a group of vampires walking along the campus village’s main street. Despite the cold, they’re in thin blazers and white shirts. But what makes me look at them, perhaps longer than I should, are the red ribbons tied around their necks. “Send me the details,” I say after a shallow breath.
Chapter
Five
I spent my first week at Tynahine mainly in the tunnels and taking my meals with my newfriends.During my classes, instead of paying attention, I made lists of the different tunnels and staircases. Luckily enough, I only saw Astra from afar, entering Ambrose Hall surrounded by her flock, with an arm around a different girl every day. But every single day, just for a split second, she’d look across the hall at our table and lock her eyes with mine.
“The Red Ribbons?” Ife whispers Thursday afternoon, after I ask her about them. A few times, I’ve wandered down to the stuffy gallery where I assume they hold their meetings, and though I’ve not had a run-in with any of the Ribbons, the chairs have changed position each time I go. Both Ife and Julia stiffen at the mention of the group, though Stephan is as oblivious as I am. “Did they say anything to you?” she asks, looking around Ambrose Hall, afraid we might be overheard. I shake my head.
“Who are they?”
“Vampire supremacists,” Julia whispers.
“Convertsupremacists,” Ife adds. “We knew they were some sortof student club, but we didn’t know what kind until they tried to recruit Julia last year, after the Integration was announced.”
“I said no,” Julia adds in a matter-of-fact way.
Vampire supremacists.So much for Tynahine being safe for humans.
That night, Igrab a bike from the rental shop on the edge of campus and make my way through the woods. When I reach the gate, I double-check that I’ve got my weapons. It’s already dark out, and the small Highland roads are sparsely lit, but I remember the route the Familiar took from the city when I first got here. Once I find the motorway, it takes me just twenty minutes to reach Inverness.
I’m going to a pub called Silverbirch, next to a warehouse where several girls have been found with just enough blood to keep them alive, and no memory of how they lost the rest. Each attack has happened on a Thursday night, and Penny is convinced that the vampire behind the attacks must either be doing night shifts in the pub or is a regular customer.
River Ness glitters with the reflection of streetlamps, a thin mist rising from its surface. It feels good to be out of campus, even if it’s just for the night. The crisp air bites my ears, and I find a line of bike racks, right across from the bridge leading to the river islands.
I chain my bike, and a bloated seagull lands on the handlebars, watching me with yellow eyes. “Shoo,” I say, and it lifts into flight.
It starts to drizzle, and I make my way across the first Victorian footbridge. I follow the path amongst the woods, illuminated by old-fashioned lampposts. The trees, firs and red cedars, are staggeringly tall, some so wide they must be centuries old. There are seagulls here, too, perched on branches.
Silverbirch is small,with a carpet that smells of sweat and spilled beer. The music is loud, and the staff all look human.
I order a plate of chips and an Irn-Bru and scan the premises. There’s a hen-do taking up four tables, all the women wearing tiaras, while one has a cheap white veil sticking out from hers. They’re noisy, singing over the music, but no one seems particularly bothered by them. Closer to me is a table of three, parents with a daughter in her late teens. Roughly the age I was when my parents died.
All three of them are alive, bickering over meaningless things.
The last time I went out for dinner with my parents was shortly after prom. Prom night had been a blur, even though I’m pretty sure I didn’t drink. My girlfriend at the time, Vicki, broke up with me after the party. She said I cheated on her, but I have no recollection of it.She’s not worth it, hen,my dad had said. I wish I’d agreed with him.
I wish I’d thanked them for bringing me out for dinner, instead of sulking the whole night. If I’d known it was going to be our last time going out together, I would have enjoyed it. I would have told them that there was something fishy about a prize for a competition they had no memory of entering. I would have told them not to go to London, and they’d still be alive.
And maybe we’d be sitting here as a family, just as those other three are.
My gaze shifts over to the bar, and I spot him, holding a glass of water and smiling at the waitress. She’s mousy, her uniform ill-fitting, and I wonder, based on the glint in the man’s eye, if her blood is like mine. Type-S.
I keep my head down but continue watching him. Then he does it. His eyes glow red, and the waitress’s flustered expression slackens. No one in the pub notices. Humans never do. It’s only once you’ve faced them, once you’ve felt it, that you sense their power. His thin lips move, uttering an order. He gets up, dusting down a black blazer. His long fingers glide across his phone. A second later he heads out the main entrance.
“Going for a smoke,” the waitress says, loud and clear. I don’t waste time. I’ve studied the layout of the Silverbirch in advance, so I know where I’m going.
I slip my mask on once I reach the narrow stairs leading to the roof and pull up my hood. The wind hits me as I take in my surroundings. The roof is riddled with rusty pipes, and a flock of seagulls perches on the ledge, watchingme.
