Sleeping Angel (Ravenwood Series) (30 page)

April slowed as she neared the cemetery gates – for once, they were open. Inside the courtyard, a gang of men were unloading scaffolding poles and crates from a large black lorry.
Strange.
The cemetery was still being used for funerals, of course – perhaps someone was holding the wake in the grounds too. April dismissed a brief urge to investigate. She couldn’t face a confrontation with Miss Leicester right now – and besides, why would she want to go in there anyway? In actual fact, Miss Leicester had been right; her dad wasn’t even there, so what business did she have in the West Cemetery anymore?

Instead, April turned to the left and joined a small queue of tourists shuffling into the East Cemetery just across Swain’s Lane. She paid the entrance fee and picked up the photocopied map. Most of the visitors were heading straight along the main path down to the famous sculpture of Karl Marx, but April turned the other way, following the path that ran parallel to the lane. As she walked, April noticed something she had never seen from the other side of the fence. The closer the graves were to Swain’s Lane, the better kept they were: weeded, free of leaves, the names easy to read. But wander closer to the centre of the graveyard and the headstones teetered and lolled, overgrown by moss and choked by ivy. It was an island of forgotten names, the soil rutted and over-run by plants, the trees stooping down over the dirt paths, sucking away the light and the warmth. April walked that way, letting her feet choose a path, often finding her way blocked by an uprooted slab or a tree growing straight across a now-abandoned path. Finally she found an old bench, itself covered in green lichen. She sat down and pulled out her phone.

Flipping to her messages, she quickly tapped:

             
Hey, it’s me, sitting in the cemetery (East! Cost me £3!) and thinking of you. Hope you’re okay. Call me when you can, okay? Ax

She felt sure it would be ignored – like the other fifty texts she had sent to Gabriel since that night of the party. But even if it was completely one-sided, it still felt as though she was keeping up a dialogue with him. That was something, wasn’t it?

Sighing, April dropped the phone into her lap, and looked up through the branches of the tree above her bench. The leaves were starting to turn red and brown already – global warming? April snorted and shook her head. If Davina was right, she doubted whether anyone would give two hoots about the environment soon. They would all be too busy fighting for their lives.

Not so long ago, April had assumed that the vampire conspiracy had centred on Ravenwood and that the students were their main focus – converting them to the cause or using their intellect and influence. But now April could see that the conspiracy went far beyond the walls of the school and that it was happening
now
. She didn’t have years to solve this puzzle, she had months, weeks, perhaps not even that. Perhaps it was already too late. Important, influential men and women – politicians, media people, wealthy investors -- were already working on the inside towards one goal: bringing the vampires out into the light.

And April had what? A handful of friends? One rogue vampire –
at best.

‘So, what do you need, genius?’ she whispered to herself.

She grabbed the mobile, found the number and pressed “Call” before she could be paralysed with indecision.

‘Hello? Who is this?’ Elizabeth Holden’s voice was both guarded and irritated, and April almost hung up.

‘It’s April, April Dunne. We met at Miss ... uh, Annabel’s funeral.’

A pause.

‘I know who you are, April,’ said Mrs Holden.

‘You said I could call if I needed to talk.’

‘It’s happening, isn’t it?’

April almost said, ‘What’s happening?’ but the time for playing games was over. Besides, she had called Elizabeth Holden because she was the one person to whom she could speak freely, to whom she wouldn’t have to explain the situation, who wouldn’t say “vampires? Are you mental?”.

‘Yes, it is,’ sighed April, ‘I thought it was all happening at Ravenwood, but it’s way bigger, Mrs Holden. Politicians and businessmen – they’re all involved.’

‘I’m surprised it’s taken so long,’ said Elizabeth Holden. ‘I’m guessing you want to know what to do?’

‘Yes, I mean, I know what to do – I just don’t know how.’

‘Sorry, April, but that’s bull. Let me simplify things. The vampires are about to take over, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘So, whose plan is this? Who’s in charge of the vampires?’

‘The King,’ said April. ‘The King Vampire.’

‘Right. So what do
you
have to do?’

‘I have to stop the King, but ...’

‘No, April – you have to
kill
the King Vampire. Nothing else is going to stop them. And no one else has the power to destroy him.’

‘But I don’t even know who the bloody King is!’ shouted April, before glancing around, hoping no one else was in this part of the cemetery. She lowered her voice. ‘Even if I did, how can I get to him? I need help, Mrs Holden. I need the Guardians.’

There was a long pause at the other end of the phone.

‘April, listen to me. The Guardians are not the answer. My daughter was, perhaps, the last one worthy of the name. None of the others want to take the risk.’

‘Why not?’ April said, a note of desperation creeping into her voice. ‘I thought the Guardians were sworn to help me? You know, help the Fury?’ she added, lowering her voice.

‘In theory, yes. But I’m not sure that swearing an oath carries as much weight as it used to, not in the modern world. I find that people tend to do whatever they feel is in their best interest, don’t you?’

That certainly fitted the people gazing up at the stage in the Crichton Club. It was depressing to think that people on both sides might think exactly the same way.

‘So what do I do? How do I find the King?’

‘Oh, it’s not a case of finding him,’ said Elizabeth. ‘It’s a matter of
identifying
him. I’m pretty sure you’ve already met.’

‘
What
?’ gasped April.

Mrs Holden chuckled softly. ‘Vampires don’t hide in castles in Transylvania, April. They hide in plain sight. They sit next to you at school, they masquerade as teachers, policemen, doctors. You could have passed him in the street this morning and never known it.’

‘How do I spot him? I mean, it’s not like he’s going to wear a crown, is it?’

‘Something my husband always used to say: ‘They can hide, but you just have to turn over the right stone.’ Keep looking, April. Eventually, you’ll step on the worm.’

April walked back up through the tangled thicket, emerging out onto the main path just below Karl Marx’s tomb. She stopped to look up at the huge carved head for a moment. He was just an old man with a beard, really. Quite grumpy looking too; he reminded her of her grandfather whenever he was arguing with her mother. Which, of course, was most of the time. There was a gold-painted inscription chiselled into the marble:

Workers of All Lands Unite.

 
The philosophers have only interpreted the world in various ways; the point is to change it.

April walked on back towards the entrance, thinking about it. He had a point, old Karl. It didn’t matter how much you thought about things, or wished they could be different, there was no substitute for action.

             
Another lesson she needed to learn – people would go to any lengths if they truly believed in something, even if it was something as insubstantial as an ideal. She thought of Charles Tame – yes, he was ambitious, but she was convinced he believed in whatever lies the vampires were feeding him. The rest of them? They only believed in money and power, but that was enough for a lot of people. She remembered that Luke had said something similar about her grandfather: he would deal with businessmen and court politicians because it helped him make money. You might not like them, but that was how it worked. In fact, April was in the same situation herself with Davina. She would rather not have to trust a self-confessed vampire, but she needed Davina. She needed anyone she could get right now.

‘Right,’ she whispered to herself, pulling her phone out again and thumbing to the number she wanted.

‘Caro?’ she said. ‘I need you.’

When she had finished talking, April walked out of the cemetery and turned right into Waterlow Park, following the path up the hill. It was time to stop worrying. Karl was right: it was time for action. If anyone wanted to help her, they were in – it was that simple. She couldn’t fight a war without troops, so Caro and Davina would have to make nice. April was so deep in thought, she didn’t see the man standing in the shadow of the over-hanging trees until she was almost on top of him.

‘Gabriel!’ she cried, running towards him. She jumped in the air and threw herself around him, squeezing him, smelling him, feeling his warmth. He was
here
, he was alive.

‘I was so worried – I thought you’d gone off and decided to take on the Vampire King on your own.’

‘No baby, not yet,’ he said, kissing her neck. April rolled her head back, savouring the feel of his lips on her tingling skin, then stopped and looked at him.

‘Not
yet
?’ she said, stepping back to look at him.

He gave her a weary smile. ‘It’s on my to-do list.’

‘No,’ said April, firmly. ‘Gabriel Swift, you are not going off to do anything on your own, particularly not fighting full-blood vampires. If you’re going to take on the vampire nation, I’m bloody coming too.’

He laughed and pulled her close again, lifting her off her feet. ‘That’s why I love you, April Dunne,’ he grinned. ‘You’re fearless.’

‘Don’t go,’ she said, more softly, brushing his hair back from his face. ‘Please? I’ve got a bad feeling about what’s happening. And seriously, Gabe, you’re not looking well.’

It was true. His eyes were slits, bloodshot and hooded, as if he hadn’t slept for days. She held his hands; they were filthy, his fingernails crusted with dirt.

‘Yeah, I know it’s not a good look,’ he said, running a hand through his hair. ‘But I
feel
good. It’s like I can see clearly for the first time in years.’

‘What can you see clearly?’ April didn’t like the way he was talking. He seemed spaced out somehow, detached, his smile slightly too wide.

‘Where have you been, Gabe? Why did you run off like that?’

She had been over that evening hundreds of times and she had never been able to work out the trigger which had sent him charging from the train. Had he seen someone? Was it some vampire sense thing?

‘I don’t know,’ he shook his head. ‘I was there on the tube with you, then it was like I was flickering in and out. The next thing I knew I was jerking awake to find myself standing in the street, no idea how I got there. One moment I was in Spitalfields, the next I was in Trafalgar Square, holding my phone. I ... I got your messages, but I didn’t trust myself to see you.’

‘Why, Gabe?’ she said softly, although her heart was pounding. ‘Is this the dreams? The things you’ve been seeing?’

             
He nodded, his eyes half-focused, as if he were trying hard to remember. ‘I’m hunting,’ he said, his voice barely a whisper. ‘Stalking the streets like a wolf. It’s like ... like I’m looking through the eyes of some terrible creature that only knows hunger. All I want to do is kill and feed and kill again.’

April forced herself to keep watching his face, although she could barely stand it. The words he was saying were terrible, but as he spoke his face lit up, his eyes almost glowing, as if what he was seeing gave him pleasure.

‘They’re only dreams, Gabriel.’

‘Are they?’ he said, staring at her, his tone harder. ‘Are you absolutely sure about that, April? Because I can see the doubt in your face; I can smell the fear on you.’

‘Yes, I’m scared,’ she cried, ‘Of course I’m bloody scared, because I can see what it’s doing to you! But I’m not scared of you, I know who you are and what you’re capable of. Yes, you’re a vampire, but so bloody what? You’re not like
them
.’

‘But that’s just it, don’t you see?’ he said. ‘I thought I was different from all the others, but now I know. I too am a killer.’

She grabbed his jacket, pulling him closer. ‘No, Gabriel,’ she said fiercely. ‘You are so much more than that. You
are
different, you
are
. I wouldn’t love you otherwise, don’t you know that?’ April could feel tears rolling down her face. All she wanted was to keep him safe, but she could feel him slipping away from her.

‘Please, Gabe, whatever’s happened, we can overcome it. Whatever’s wrong, we can fix it.’

‘Not us, not you,’ he said, gently pulling her hands away from him. ‘This time, I have to fix it. That’s why I came here – to tell you I know how to make the dreams stop. I know where they’re coming from.’

‘Where? Where are you going?’