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Authors: Lee Monroe

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BOOK: Dark Heart Rising
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To his satisfaction, he heard the thunder of hooves outside and the sound of Lowe shouting something indistinct but vitriolic out into the night.

Raphael ran further up the stairs, to the floor where Celeste and Cadmium slept. His breath was coming thick and fast and adrenaline coursed through him.

He reached the door to their vast chamber and put his fist to it and banged as hard he could.

‘Celeste!’ he shouted, banging harder. ‘Cadmium!’

Then he waited, agitated, for his great-mother to come to the door.

Eventually she appeared, her usually calm face distressed.

‘What is it, Raffy?’ she said, taking in his wild eyes and breathlessness. ‘What in heaven is the matter?’

‘There is revolution outside the palace,’ he said. ‘The wolf-boy, Lowe, has enlisted the stable boys and means to upturn the Celestial ruling.’ He spoke theatrically, seeing Celeste’s mouth open in shock.

‘You must stay in here. Lock the door and don’t unlock it until I say so.’ He watched her face, waiting for some protest, but she merely nodded obediently, casting a look behind her.

‘Cadmium is asleep – it would be unwise to move him in any case,’ she told Raphael. ‘He must not be aware of what is going on. This is unprecedented!’

‘I will alert the palace servants to stay on their guard. And send some up to secure your room.’ He had no intention of doing such a thing, but if it meant his great parents were in their chamber, feeling safe – if oblivious – then so much the better.

‘Don’t put yourself at risk, will you, Raffy?’ she said. ‘Please take care.’ With a worried smile she closed the door on him.

Raphael descended the stairs, taking two at a time, and to his annoyance bumped into one of the footmen, adjusting one of the portraits on the wall that flanked the steps.

‘Your Highness.’ The footman half bowed, but when he lifted his head his anxious expression was clear. ‘There is a great deal of noise in the palace grounds – shouting and bawling. Do I need to call the palace security?’

Raphael shook his head. ‘Just some high jinks from the stable boys.’ He smiled. ‘I believe one is soon to be a father – they have celebrated with a little too much grape juice.’

The footmen didn’t look convinced. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to—’

‘No, no …’ Raphael lowered his voice, practically pushing the footman down the last few stairs to the hall. ‘Nothing at all to worry about. Go to bed and sleep – it will all be but a memory in the morning.’

He watched the man go, realising he had only a short amount of time in which to carry out his most important task.

He winced at the sight of the carefully protected books in their glass cupboards. A childhood of respecting literature, both academic and for pleasure, made what he was about to do seem all the more barbaric.

First he opened a window, then he locked the library door from the inside. Then he turned out the lights. Thinking for a moment, he unlocked one of the cupboards, took out a book, and then re-locked the cupboard and pocketed the key. He opened the book at the page he had flagged the last time.

Raphael stood for a moment, taking a deep breath, taking one last look at perfection, then he took the stone he had collected from the kitchen gardens, and he smashed the glass in the cupboard before him, sending shards everywhere. He kept his eyes shut and one arm across his face, but a small splinter embedded itself in his cheek nonetheless. Refusing to feel the pain, he turned to the other cupboard and again attacked it. He didn’t stop until all the glass had been smashed and the carpets were covered in shards.

He stopped. There was no sound from inside the palace. He waited, expecting to hear heavy footsteps, but nobody came. Exhaling with relief, he took the documents out of his pocket and spread them across the table. There in the moonlight, they exposed a connection, and lent themselves a significance that it would be difficult to overlook.

Finally, Raphael moved quickly to the open window, and carefully, stealthily he climbed out.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
 

‘I
t’s been long enough.’ Vanya paced her kitchen, glaring at Valdar, who was casually turning the pages of a newspaper. She directed her gaze at me, sitting anxiously at the table.

‘I need to get home,’ I said, aware that I sounded pathetic. And unhelpful.

‘Yes. Yes I know that,’ she snapped. ‘Unfortunately I have not got the connection with you. You’ll have to wait for Soren—’ She stopped, looking a little frantic, for a second. ‘And who knows what they have done with him.’

‘So what do you suggest?’ I asked her, stifling a yawn.

‘We need to go and get him.’ She marched to the cupboard just outside the kitchen and drew out a white hooded cape.

‘Now?’ Valdar lowered his paper. ‘They won’t let you see him now.’

‘Oh, Raphael will, if I harangue him sufficiently.’ She buttoned her cape at the neck and her dark hair spilled out, making her look like a devilish snow queen. ‘Jane, get your … hood thing, and let’s go.’

I rose robotically. I really didn’t want to show my face at the palace again, but it seemed I had no choice. I glanced behind me, to see my hoodie lying crumpled on a leather armchair by the fireplace.

‘Don’t sulk, darling,’ she said briskly. ‘Do you want to get home or not?’

I nodded. ‘But perhaps I should stay here and wait for you to come back with Soren …’ I caught Valdar’s eye and he smiled hungrily at me.

‘Or maybe I should come along for support,’ I said quickly, pushing my arms through the hoodie’s sleeves.

‘Good girl.’ She ruffled Valdar’s hair. ‘I won’t be long, sweetest.’

Valdar shrugged. ‘I’d put a wager on it that you come back with your tails between your legs.’

‘Well you know what they say,’ she quipped, ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained.’

Valdar picked up his paper again, shaking his head.

‘Right.’ Vanya drew some impossibly elegant white kid gloves on. ‘Time to straighten this mess out, once and for all.’

Luca pulled on his horse’s reins as the sound of breaking glass startled him.

‘All right boy …’ he stroked the horse’s ears, dismounting. He was outside the Celestial Palace gates, on his way to finding his brother.

‘What have you done?’ he wondered, feeling breathless with alarm. He saw light by the side of the palace, and then saw – he thought he saw – a black jacketed figure there, running in the other direction.

‘Lowe!’ he shouted, then ran to the guard’s box. The man on duty had dropped off to sleep.

‘Hey!’ He pushed at the man’s arm, watching him slowly come to.

The guard grunted. ‘Clear off,’ he said, having assured himself that Luca was nobody important.

‘Did you not hear that?’ Luca asked him.

‘Hmm.’ The guard looked bemused. ‘Hear what?’

‘The …’ Luca stopped. If Lowe was responsible, as idiotic as he was, better not drag the palace security in to the matter. ‘Nothing,’ he finished, stepping away. ‘Nothing to worry about.’

The guard shook his head, frowning. He waved Luca away.

‘Fed up of you young fools running around the palace shouting,’ he said. ‘Some of us are trying to sleep.’

Luca forced a smile. ‘Of course.’ He walked back to his horse, wondering what was going on. The whole place was silent now. As he put his foot in the stirrup, he felt his unease growing. Where was his brother?

Something felt wrong.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
 

W
e virtually ran down the cobbled street. The palace was a ten-minute walk away if I remembered right. I struggled to keep up with Vanya, who moved as though she was being propelled by jet force.

‘If you weren’t with me, of course, I would be there in a second,’ she said, gripping hold of my arm. ‘But as lovely as you are, you are simply to heavy for me to carry there.’

I pulled on her arm as best I could, since I had lost control of bodily movement. ‘Vanya! Ten more minutes won’t make much difference. Slow down.’

Flashing me an irritated look, Vanya reluctantly slowed her pace.

At that moment, the almost deafening sound of hooves hit us.

‘What the … ?’ Vanya shrunk back as four horsemen appeared at the end of the street.

My heart rate increased. The rider in front looked suspiciously familiar.

‘There!’ he shouted, one hand holding on to the reins, the other pointing aggressively at Vanya and I. He thundered towards us, and I let out a small shriek, darting out of the horse’s way.

His horse whinnying, Lowe smiled maliciously at the two of us and he pulled brutally on the reins to bring his the animal to an abrupt halt.

‘Good grief,’ Vanya said, regarding him distastefully. ‘Shouldn’t you be tucked up in bed, child?’

He snorted. ‘You think you are above the law, you vampire crone,’ he told her. ‘Well I am here, under orders from the heir to the Celestial throne, to arrest the mortal.’ He shot a look at me.

‘Really,’ Vanya sighed wearily. ‘I wish to the devil you would get a female companion of your own, wolf-boy. Perhaps then you would not vent your adolescent hormones on innocent people.’

‘Hush.’ He put a finger to his lips, and I drew in my breath. Lowe had some guts, I’d give him that.

‘I beg your pardon.’ Vanya’s nostrils flared, and I felt her tesne beside me. ‘How dare you speak to me like that!’

‘I have authority to do what I like,’ he said, hardly showing a trace of fear but for a subtle tremor in his hand as he held on to the reins. ‘Celestial authority.’

My stomach dropped. ‘What’s happened? Has something happened at the palace?’

‘It’s time to cleanse Nissilum. Finally.’

‘You haven’t thought this through, have you, dear?’ Vanya sighed. She looked around us. ‘I mean, what exactly do you think you’re going to do – a handful of stable lads?’

He shrugged. ‘I will stop you. You were going to see that despicable vampire-boy, no doubt.’ He chuckled nastily. ‘I think Raphael has plans for him – may even have disposed of him already.’

‘No!’ Vanya and I said together.

I watched as Vanya’s skin seemed to tighten and her pale face took on a translucent, shimmering quality; her lips blood red.

Blood red.

There was fear in Lowe’s eyes as he took her in. Her eyes, blacker than coal, seemed to gleam, and he put his hand up to cover his own eyes.

‘Vanya …’ I whispered, not daring to touch her. ‘Don’t.’

‘Don’t look at me,’ she hissed, ‘if you want to stay safe.’

I moved away obediently.

And then there it was, the snap of her jaw, and her teeth, sharp and deadly.

‘I told you,’ she said, sounding guttural, ‘you haven’t thought this through …’ She took a step closer to Lowe’s horse, which reared away, panicked. His hands were holding on tightly, but he had no control over the animal now.

‘You see, it takes enormous self-control not to sink my teeth into your miserable flesh on a daily basis,’ Vanya snarled. ‘It is a measure, I think, of my respect for Nissilum’ – she took hold of the horse’s snout in one hand – ‘that I don’t give in to what I am bound to be for ever.’

Even in the darkness Lowe’s fear was unmistakeable. He swallowed, watching as Vanya took her hand away from the horse. At some distance, his companions were already turning their horses around in alarm.

‘Next time you want to stage a rebellion, enrol the help of the big boys,’ she said. She closed her lips and I saw her face return to normal, the gleam in her eyes disappearing.

‘It will happen,’ he said, headstrong to the last. ‘Your days are numbered and you know it.’

‘Oh shut up and get off your horse,’ she said wearily. ‘My companion and I need to be somewhere, now.’

He made no move to dismount.

‘I said, get off your horse, boy!’ she roared, and he scrambled off, standing, resentfully by while she climbed up.

‘Come,’ she said, holding out her hand to me. ‘We haven’t got much time.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
 

T
he palace was awake. Slipping through by the kitchen entrance, Raphael heard the sounds of footsteps running up the great staircase.

He hesitated. He needed to find his way up to his great-parents’ room. But he couldn’t be seen. The kitchen corridor was dark, silent. But how long before it was full of ruffled servants?

Quickly, he darted to the door leading into the hall. Looking around it, he saw with relief that it was deserted.

Soren was still locked away underneath the palace. Safe. He would deal with him later. No one could get to the boy without Raphael’s authority.

He ran up the stairs, and headlong into a servant carrying some small brown bottles.

‘Your Highness,’ she said nervously, ‘we have been looking for you …’

‘What has happened?’ he said, his face a picture of concern. ‘It’s the middle of the night.’

‘Oh, there has been a break-in, master …’ she stammered, clutching her bottles. I have just been to administer calm remedy to the Great Mother – she is very distressed.’

BOOK: Dark Heart Rising
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