The whole room stared at me, my father’s gaze the most prominent, listening, waiting for my reaction. ‘That’s not much of a threat, Lee. You are aware that our Kingdom could halve the population of this country in a day, aren’t you?
Tick, tick went the human mind. ‘You might be a leech, Varn, but somehow I don’t think you’re cut out for genocide.’
‘Perhaps not, but I would happily make a start with your daughter.’
The words had hardly left my mouth when Sky held his hand out for the phone, obviously deciding I had done enough damage. I gave it to him gladly and he continued the conversation, Father diverting his attention to him. Jag sauntered up and nudged me below the ribs.
‘Look at you, little brother, talking politics. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have had a personality overhaul.’ Then he lowered his voice and turned so he was no longer facing Mary, his girlfriend. ‘Nice catch for a human.’ He winked at me and left to shower Mary with compliments. So he hasn’t changed in the time he has been away then.
I slipped from the room, tired of the talk. Girly sat curled on the bottom step, her head buried in her arms. I couldn’t hear sobbing, although as she raised her head her eyes were still red and blotched, but gleaming with a hope that changed to an accusing stare once she realized there was no phone in my hand. She scrabbled up and backed into the banister as I passed, her stare following me as I thought I heard her mutter that I was a jerk.
THIRTEEN
Violet
Hours merged into days, every day as insignificant as the next, time passing in a blur, nothing standing out.
I spent almost all of my time cooped up in my room, amusing myself as best I could. It had been a week exactly since that short phone call, and it still troubled my thoughts. I had hoped that I would be able to call my family again, but had given up on that. Nobody talked to me, apart from the occasional, brief exchange.
I sighed, and looked back down at my drawing. I wasn’t much of an artist; I had only just scraped along in Art at school. But the ovals I had sketched resembled a pair of narrow eyes and I knew if I had colouring pencils that they would be emerald green. Beside them was the outline of another pair, rounder yet sunken. Blue. A smaller pair, scribbled in the corner, awake and alive. Violet.
My fingers closed around the sheet and scrunched it into a ball.
It would be my birthday in thirteen days. I would turn eighteen a hostage. My fingers tightened into a ball as I felt a familiar lurch in my stomach and my throat closed up.
A brisk knock at the door interrupted my thoughts and I quickly wiped my eyes, just in case they looked teary. Without waiting for a reply, the person entered as I was standing up. To my surprise, it was not Fabian, who seemed to be the only one interested in me, but Sky.
He cleared his throat, filling the room with a definite awkwardness. I shifted from one foot to the other. ‘You’re wanted downstairs. Now.’
‘Why?’
As he left, his gaze glided up and down my body, taking in my attire – a scruffy pair of Lyla’s old pyjamas. ‘You have two minutes.’
His deliberate avoiding of the question unnerved me, but I was already in the wardrobe when I heard the bedroom door close. I grabbed something a little less inappropriate and changed.
I left the room, wondering what the great urgency was. I had never been requested to be ‘seen’ in the fifteen days I had been here and Sky had never spoken directly to me.
The eldest Varn child was much older than the other five: a thousand, Fabian said, but he was not the heir to the throne. No, Kaspar was heir. Sky was married to Arabella, a few years his junior and they had two daughters. They lived in Romania mostly, as did Jag and Mary; I suspected it was my arrival that had prompted their visit.
The entrance hall was a frenzy of activity when I reached the top of the staircase. It seemed as though most of the household had gathered, all wearing long black cloaks, even tiny Thyme. Servants rushed about, passing various objects around, before hastily bowing and darting off to their next task. I spotted Annie, who gave me the smallest of smiles.
‘It’s like trying to get an army on the move,’ Fabian said, coming up to greet me, grimacing at the bickering of the Varn siblings below. Unlike the others, he wore normal clothes.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked, leaning over the banister.
He grimaced again. ‘It’s a hunt.’ My lips pursed and I swallowed back a gag, realizing why Sky had avoided my question a moment ago.
‘A hunt for what?’ He shot me a look that said, ‘As if you don’t know.’ I closed my eyes. ‘But what do I have to do with that?’
‘They’re going for the weekend, so I’m staying to keep an eye on you.’
Below, Kaspar and Cain snapped at each other, unbothered by what they were about to do. ‘I don’t need babysitting. What the hell would I do? It’s not as though I could go anywhere.’
He shrugged, heading down the stairs. ‘You tell me. But it could be worse. Kaspar could be staying.’ He gave me a knowing look.
That is true. I would be an idiot to trust Fabian, but he was a lesser of two evils when compared to Kaspar.
The King strode forward and, as he did so, the butler rushed forward, swinging both of the enormous doors open. He disappeared down them and one by one, the others filtered after him. Kaspar, however, hung back, waiting for Fabian at the base of the stairs. We both descended.
‘Don’t let her out of your sight.’ He jerked his thumb towards me and I dropped my gaze to the floor.
‘I am perfectly capable of looking after a human, Kaspar,’ Fabian replied testily.
‘Perhaps.’ He went to leave but I dived forward and grabbed his wrist in a sudden burst of energy as my heart leapt. The floor squealed beneath his boots as he swung back around; his cloak slung away from the loose linen shirt he wore underneath, revealing a coat of arms emblazoned on the breast: a black rose, dripping a drop of blood into a large ‘V’ below.
‘Please, don’t kill anyone,’ I whispered.
I thought I saw his eyes soften for a moment. But he tore his wrist from my grip like I was no more than a child, which I realized I must be to him. A child. He walked down the steps after the others, who were already halfway across the grounds, stopping once he reached the lawns, turning back towards me as I stood watching from the open doorway, inhaling the first fresh air in weeks.
His eyes rose from the floor to meet mine. He held that gaze for a moment, before he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, casting all into shadow, save for his glistening emerald eyes. His dark figure lingered for a little longer, until he swept around into the sunset that had bathed the world in pale gold. As he reached the other cloaked figures, they all sped up, becoming a dark blur on the landscape, running into the falling sun and on the hunt as they had been the first time I had set eyes upon their kind.
The moon soon replaced the sun and stars dotted the clear night sky, untainted by the orange glow of the built-up areas. Somewhere, a clock chimed, telling me it was getting on towards midnight.
‘There’s far more to this world than humans think, isn’t there?’ I asked, turning to face Fabian from my window seat.
His face was framed by the dancing fire, which roared in the hearth. It was eerie, watching the orange flames light up his pale skin, lapping at it as though it longed to burn his unnatural presence away.
‘Far more. This is just one royal family of many,’ he continued. ‘But you don’t want to know more. Ignorance is a blessing. Treasure it.’
I nodded. He’s right.