His tone never changes from whimsical delight, but Sinead steps back as though he’s slapped her. I remember all too well the cruelty ofhim – how he would pull you close with extravagant gifts and poetic promises, and make you feel like you were his most precious possession, but then he’d snatch his affection away and you’d see that you were less than nothing. I don’t want to be Sinead’s BFF, but I do recognise a piece of myself in her.
“I searched her whole house while she slept. It’s not here.” Sinead turns back to me, and her hurt is masked by sadistic glee. “Itwasmy brilliant idea to turn Gideon against you, but you made him hate you all on your own, and he won’t be flying in to rescue you. He’s not even on the property tonight. We have you all to ourselves, don’t we, John?”
“We do, my love. I have suchinvigoratingplans.”
I scream as Astor grabs me by the arm, bending it at an angle no arm should bend as he drags me into the living room. I know, academically, that screaming is pointless. The house is designed to be soundproof. But I’m a mess of terror and agony. Screaming is what youdoin this situation.
Astor throws me into the corner. I hit the wall, cracking the plaster and another few ribs before knocking over a Pierre-Auguste statue sitting on a plinth beside the television. The marble shatters.
I want to be angry. I’m good at being angry, especially when a man invades my sanctuary and wrecks my shit. But I’m too busy beingafraid.
I can’t fight him. He’s too strong. My body is already singing with pain, and he’s barely even started. In the corner of my blurry vision, I see Sinead shoving aside my fashion magazines to unroll a leather case filled with silver blades.
I could run. The front door is only in the next room. If I can get outside and down the steps, I can scream for help.
I try to stagger to my feet, but a sharp heel in my back shoves me down again.
“Don’t even think about it,” Sinead growls. I squirm beneath the heel in my back. She’s strong, too, much stronger than a Thrall should be. It must be all those centuries of Astor’s blood. “I’ve given the security team the night off. The only Thrall working is on the gates, and he’s so gorged on John’s blood that he won’t help you even if you beg.”
“Mmmm. I’d like to see her beg. I think she will, once I’m done with her.” Astor holds up one of his knives. “You could tell us where the necklace is now, but this way will be more fun.”
“My friends were coming over tonight,” I choke out. “I’m directing the variety show, and they want my help with their stupid dance.”
“That doesn’t sound like my Arabella.”
“It’s true. That’s why my picture was on that pole studio poster.”
“I revoked their visitor passes. They won’t get through the gates,” Sinead says. “And they’re human – hardly worth worrying about.”
“Not all are human. Do you think your Thrall on the gate is a match for a werewolf?”
Sinead pales. “John, she’s right. The werewolf could be a problem.”
Astor tosses my phone at my feet. “Send them a message. Tell them not to come. Sinead, watch her. Make sure she doesn’t try anything clever.”
With trembling hands, I pick up the phone, click on the Nevermore Coven group chat, and hit therecordbutton.
“Hello, ladies.” I fight to keep my voice light. “I know you were all coming over tonight to help me organise the program for the variety show. But I’ve decided to do it on my own. That’s the only way it will be done right. I’ll see you all at the next book club meeting, okay?”
Slick with my blood, my fingers slip as I clicksend message. A tick appears beneath it.
Delivered.
“Good. Don’t look so terrified, sweet Arabella. It will be just like the old days.” Lord Astor cracks his knuckles. “We’re going to havefun.”
51
Gideon
Manet:Just a reminder that this buyer is nervous. If you are so much as a minute late, they will disappear. You’ll never get this chance again. Do not disappoint them. Or me.
MY HANDS ARE TIGHTon the steering wheel as I speed down the A40 towards Grimdale. The Lamborghini’s frame judders as it hits another rough patch of road. I wince as the bottom scrapes and a cascade of coins topples from one of the sacks, scattering throughout the footwell.
Even if my precious car doesn’t survive this trip, it will be worth it. I can’t believe Édouard found the collar. If this turns out to be the real thing, I am giving him a finder’s fee. Maybe his own unicorn. We can breed unicorns, right? I’ll ask Sinead.
Arabella will befloored. For once in my life, I’ll have done the right thing.
The magic in my blood whispers and dances.
