Page 96 of Only Fangs

But I’ve realised the flaw in her plan. I sit up, drawing the covers around my shoulders for cosiness. “It won’t work.”

“Of course it will. Don’t be defeatist, Ari Haywood.”

“It really won’t.” I pat the bed next me too and Clara sits down. “It won’t work because I already am those things.” I raise my hand in front of her, all fingers curled down towards my palm. “Number one,” I raise my index finger, “feminist.”

“True. But⁠—”

“Number two,” I interrupt her and raise my middle finger. “Unkempt. Or at least I am by Benedict’s standards. When was the last time I wore a hair switch or a hoop under a gown?”

“Yes. But⁠—”

“Number three,” my ring finger joins the other two, “swearing.” I raise an eyebrow. We both know I swear like a fucking trooper.

“I will give you that one.”

“Then dogs. The moment I find one who doesn’t run from me, I’m getting one. And what’s the final thing on your list?”

“Modern books.” Her voice is small.

“Exactly. I’m already all the things he hates but yet he’ll marry me anyway.”

“Why? I mean, I think you’re a total catch, obviously.” She smiles at me. “But why does Benedict?”

“Because he wants to marry into Carmilla’s bloodline. And because he thinks he can change me, mould me into the wife he wants. You know what men like him are like; they want you all the more if they can break you. It’s like a sport to them.”

“Promise you won’t let him. Not that it’s going to come to that. We will find a way to stop this. But if…”

I put my little finger out. “I promise I won’t let him destroy me.”

She hooks her pinky around mine. “And I promise to help you.”

We’re interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

“Who is it?” I call out.

There’s no answer, so Clara goes to investigate. “Ooh, it’s breakfast,” she says and brings a tray laden with goodies over to the bed. “Hmm… there’s two of everything,” she says, staring at the pair of plates, the pair of glasses full of freshly squeezed orange juice, the pair of mugs of coffee. “Do you think someone assumed you had company?”

“I think your father probably had someone watching the room last night to make sure I didn’t try to run away.”

“Oh.”

“And seeing as they’ve included your favourite pain au raisins, I guess people know it’s you who’s here with me.”

“I came through one of the secret passages.”

“I think they might not be as secret as we thought. They found Brody remember?”

“Well I guess that does make sense.”

We fall into silence as we eat our breakfast. All the excitement of earlier, of thinking we could find a way out of this mess has gone. Reality is starting to set in. A reality where Clara’s dad is always a step ahead.

“I think I need to get away,” I say softly as I finish my pastry.

“Where?”

“Scotland.”

She nods. “Your dad. Would you like company, or is the point to be alone?” But the question is soft, she already knows the answer.