Sleeping Angel (Ravenwood Series)

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Sleeping Angel (Ravenwood Series) Page 28

by Mia James


  ‘Put her down.’

  Thomas whirled around. Over his shoulder, April could see that the double doors of the hall had been thrown open. Standing there – At last, thought April, at last you got it right – was her mother. Had Silvia heard? Did she know? Did she know that her father had killed her husband, the man she had loved? From the look on Silvia’s face, April could see that she did. It was cold, hard, a face of utter fury.

  ‘Perhaps you didn’t hear me,’ said Silvia, her voice almost a whisper. ‘I said: put her down.’

  Thomas shrugged and dropped April to the floor. As she slid down the wall, April could see the so-called Council of Light standing behind Silvia.

  ‘Oh, so that is how it is going to be?’ laughed Thomas. ‘You’re staging a coup? Stealing my power base? I think it’s going to take a lot more—’

  Silvia moved with incredible speed, crossing the space between her and Thomas in half the blink of an eye, her jaws closing on his throat before he had even started forming the next word. Mum, no, please don’t, April thought, but she knew it was too late, much, much too late. She could only stare in horror as the dark red blood bubbled between her grandfather’s fingers and he slowly slumped to his knees. How? she thought in terror. Wasn’t he the King Vampire? How had Silvia killed him? And then the spell broke and April screamed.

  ‘No!’ she screamed, but then Silvia was there, wrapping her daughter in her arms, holding her as sobs wracked April’s body.

  ‘Look away, darling,’ she whispered, stroking April’s hair. ‘It’s all over now. It’s all over.’

  Chapter Thirty

  From the third floor of the hospital, April could see the cemetery, gleaming white in the sun. Funny how they’d built the hospital so close to all those headstones – some town planner with a twisted sense of humour perhaps? Or maybe it was pure convenience. She leant closer to the glass and rubbed her breath away. Once – and it seemed like a long time ago now – she had been chased into that graveyard by a monster with red-rimmed eyes and a manic laugh. It was the sort of story that should have ended in nothing but tragedy, but instead the thought of it filled April with a warmth that spread through her chest. Gabriel had found her that night and he had kissed her as the snowflakes had spiralled down. And he had told her he loved her.

  ‘Why are you smiling?’ said Gabriel.

  ‘Just thinking how this makes a nice change,’ she said, turning back towards the bed. ‘You the patient, me the visitor. I should have brought you some grapes, but I didn’t think you’d be able to eat them with your arm in a sling.’

  ‘I can still move it,’ said Gabriel grumpily, lifting up a corner of the bandage wrapped around his head. ‘This one’s almost healed too.’

  ‘I know, but this time we’re doing things properly,’ said April. ‘Normal people go to hospital when they’ve been smashed over the head, normal people need bandages and slings, and from now on, Gabriel Swift, you’re going to be normal, whether you like it or not.’

  ‘But I’m ...’ Gabriel lowered his voice . ‘I’m not, am I?’

  ‘No, you’re not,’ she said, leaning over to kiss him on the shoulder. ‘You just have to pretend until the police are satisfied we’re not making it up.’

  ‘Which we are.’

  April nodded. ‘Which we are.’

  It wasn’t as if they had much choice; who would believe the real story? Who would believe that her mother was a purebred creature of the night and that she had killed her father to stop him – and vampires like him – from taking over the world?

  April’s buoyant mood ebbed away as she thought of that moment. Her grandad lying there in a pool of dark blood, so very still. Had he really killed her father? Yes, he had confessed to it – no, he had boasted about it, a proud smile on his face. And then he had tried to kill her – she shouldn’t forget that either, couldn’t forget the look in his eyes: the shining madness, the hate and the hunger. Why was it so hard to accept? Why couldn’t her mind grasp the idea that her Gramps was the Bad Guy, the villain in her own dark fairy tale? Because it was crazy, that was why. But, somehow, April knew she had to find a way to deal with it.

  Still,one thing at a time, eh? she thought, squeezing Gabriel’s hand.

  There was a tap at the door and April looked up to see Detective Inspector Ian Reece standing there.

  ‘April?’ he said. ‘Could I have a word?’

  She glanced at Gabriel and nodded.

  ‘I’ve just been speaking to my boss – my new boss, actually – and you’ll be glad to hear that we won’t be taking this any further.’

  ‘Really?’

  He shrugged. ‘We have some excellent witnesses to corroborate your version of events, April. And, given Dr Tame’s state of mind, I’d say any further investigation would be a waste of police time, frankly.’

  When the police had arrived at Ravenwood, they had found April weeping over Gabriel’s unconscious form. Not far away, they had found Thomas Hamilton’s body, lying in a pool of dark blood. And next to him, they had found Dr Charles Tame, clutching at Thomas’s hand. He was giggling to himself and muttering one phrase over and over again. ‘The King is dead, long live the Queen ...’ Paramedics had given him a strong sedative and wheeled him off to the secure psychiatric unit at the Whittington Hospital. Which meant he was probably only a few hundred yards away from this spot, thought April, suppressing a shiver.

  ‘What’s going to happen now?’ said Gabriel. ‘About Dr Tame, I mean.’

  The policeman raised his eyebrows. ‘We’ll have to wait and see. Although his throat was badly bruised – I understand you were trying to fight him off, lad? – he still managed to give us his account of the events.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It seems he believes your grandfather was a vampire, April.’

  ‘A vampire,’ she said, looking at Gabriel. He didn’t even flinch.

  ‘According to Dr Tame, your grandad was the Vampire King, the figurehead for a giant global conspiracy to enslave mankind. Tame also believed Gabriel was some kind of zombie assassin whom your grandad ordered to strangle him. I’m sorry, April; I know this has been horrible enough for you already, but I felt it was better you heard it from me.’

  April looked down at her hands and nodded.

  ‘Thanks, Mr Reece.’ She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘But he seemed so normal. Why do you think ...?’

  ‘Why did he go crazy? I asked the very same question and apparently a breakdown of this type is not uncommon in high-achievers; an underlying schizophrenia is triggered when the mind fails to cope with the pressure. The most likely scenario is that he became fixated with your grandfather after he asked the Police Commissioner to remove Dr Tame from his role as a police adviser.’

  ‘Did he? I didn’t know that,’ said April.

  ‘Something about Dr Tame coming to your house and threatening you? I haven’t read the whole report. Anyway, apparently once Dr Tame became convinced your grandad was his enemy it would have been easy for his unbalanced mind to create this strange alternative universe to justify his actions. We’ll be looking into the murder of Calvin Temple too.’

  ‘You think that was him too?’

  ‘It would make sense, given his grudge against your grandfather, but I’m not sure we’ll ever know. One thing’s for sure, I doubt he’ll ever get out to hurt anyone again. Not that it’s much consolation for you, but ...’

  ‘No, that is something, Mr Reece.’

  April felt bad about letting Charles Tame take the blame for something he hadn’t done, but he wasn’t exactly innocent either. He had gleefully volunteered to turn hundreds of children into vampires or vampire-slaves and had been overseeing the creation of a zombie army, beginning with his brutal reprogramming of Gabriel in the Ravenwood laboratory. Did he deserve this? April wasn’t sure, but she knew that was another thing she would wrestle with later on.

  ‘I’d better be going,’ said Reece, walking to the door, ‘I hear your friend
Ling is better?’

  ‘Yes. I think she’s gone home already. I heard her parents were sending her to some rehab unit abroad.’

  Ling’s injury had easily been explained away as a cry-for-help suicide bid after the ordeal of Calvin’s attack and there had been no witnesses to say otherwise. By the time the police arrived, the Suckers had all melted into the darkness, leaving behind the scaffolding poles. It was as if they had never been there.

  April walked with Reece down the corridor.

  ‘Can I just ask you one thing?’ said the detective as they waited for the lift.

  April nodded.

  ‘Why vampires?’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘That morning in Covent Garden, I asked you to tell me why all this was happening and you said “vampires”.’

  ‘Oh, that.’ April had been expecting this question, and had prepared a story. It wasn’t a good story, she had to admit, but she hoped it would be adequate. ‘I suppose your friend the psychologist is right. I guess the mind can only take so much. My dad, Marcus, Layla, then Mr Sheldon – all those people dying, none of it made sense – and then I found another dead body. I suppose I was clutching at straws, trying to find a reason for it all, however crazy it sounded.’

  She held her breath as the policeman looked at her for a long moment. ‘I know you’ve been struggling with this since your father’s death,’ he said. ‘But I’ve seen a lot of death in my job, And sometimes April, there simply is no reason.’

  April breathed out; Reece seemed to have accepted it. But then, why wouldn’t he? Who was ever going to believe that vampires were behind all these killings? That really was crazy.

  ‘Maybe you’re right Mr. Reece,’ she said, ‘But you know what? This time I think it’s over. I think death has had enough of me for one lifetime.’

  Reece gave her a wintry smile as he stepped into the lift. ‘I certainly hope you’re right, April. I really do.’

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The bed was covered in photographs: April making sandcastles, April dressed as Wonder Woman, April proudly displaying her missing milk teeth. And there were other mementoes and sentimental knick-knacks that were every bit as evocative to April. Her tiny plastic ID bracelet from the hospital, three ticket stubs for a pantomime, even a crumbling daisy chain carefully wrapped in tissue.

  ‘I can’t believe you kept all this,’ said April, looking up at her mother. ‘I thought you didn’t care about any of this stuff.’

  Silvia shrugged. ‘We couldn’t have photos around the house – well, none with me in anyway - but that didn’t mean I couldn’t hold onto the memories.’

  She passed April another picture. In this one, April was wearing a leotard and holding up a tiny silver cup. ‘You won third prize for trampoline. I was so proud.’

  ‘I don’t even remember being there,’ said April numbly. It was as if the memory had been wiped. Or perhaps she had simply suppressed everything – if her mind wouldn’t – couldn’t – accept the things that didn’t fit with normality, she had blanked it all out, both the good and the bad. Looking at her mother’s photo collection was like being shown someone else’s home movies, a record of a life she couldn’t remember living. For a moment, April wondered whether she would ever be forced to hoard photos of her children, filing them away in dusty shoeboxes like her mother had done. Silvia seemed to read her troubled expression.

  ‘It’s over, darling. Honestly.’

  April wished she shared her mother’s optimism. Yes, she believed the vampire conspiracy had died with Thomas Hamilton in the hall at Ravenwood – but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be another Vampire King and, if he was vanquished, another after him. And another and another. After all, vampires had a real habit of coming back from the dead, didn’t they? Still, at least they could be certain this particular uprising had been put down; her mother had made sure of that.

  Having dispatched their leader, blood still dripping from her chin, Silvia had addressed the “Council of Light”. She had told them that to go back to their constituencies, offices or “whichever hole you’ve crawled out of” and resign, pack a suitcase and disappear.

  ‘Go to Belgium, go to Bulgaria, I don’t care,’ she had said. ‘If I ever hear of any of you again, I will find you and kill you. Is that clear?’

  Not a single one of them said a word, but it was obvious from the speed with which they left the building that Silvia’s message had got through. The question, of course, was whether that would be enough; whether it would ever be enough.

  ‘Are you thinking they’ll come back?’ asked Silvia. ‘Is that what’s bothering you?’

  ‘They’ll definitely come back,’ said April quietly. ‘Oh, not those particular people. I think you scared them enough that they’ll thank their lucky stars every time they swallow. But there will always be vampires and there will always be humans who think they can make a deal with them.’

  ‘That’s true,’ said Silvia. ‘That’s always been true. But that was before I was Queen.’

  April looked at her sharply, but her mother only laughed.

  ‘I have a plan,’ she said, tapping the side of her nose. ‘I won’t be keeping you in the dark anymore, I promise you that. But let’s take one thing at a time, hmm?’

  April nodded. Silvia had shown plenty of cunning when she had dismissed the Council of Light at Ravenwood, so April thought it was entirely possible her mother knew what she was doing. She had kept Detective Chief Inspector Johnston and David Harper behind when the others had left and spoon-fed them an alibi: the reason for their presence at Ravenwood that night was indeed a meeting with Thomas Hamilton, however it was to discuss keeping the students safe after the latest outbreak of violence in Highgate. Without warning, Silvia informed them, Dr Tame had attacked Thomas – and Gabriel when he tried to intervene – leading to the tragic outcome. The policeman and the politician were given the same terms as the others: full cooperation with Silvia or a bloody end. They had both managed to look convincingly shaken when the police had arrived. No, Silvia had covered all the bases. All except one thing.

  ‘Mum, can I ask you something?’ said April.

  Silvia pulled a face. ‘Why do I think I’m not going to like this question?’

  ‘You loved dad, right? That’s why you killed Gramps?’

  Silvia reached over to squeeze April’s hand. ‘I’m so sorry, darling. Really I am. I wish—’

  ‘No, I get it,’ said April, ‘Seriously. Gramps went to our house and –’ her voice began to break ‘– And he knocked on the door and when dad let him in, he tore his throat out.’

  She was sobbing now, her voice thick. ‘When he admitted it, when he boasted about it, you wanted to kill him, right?’

  Silvia’s arms were around her now, holding her tight, but April had to finish, had to get it all out.

  ‘But then he tried to kill me,’ April whispered, choking as she said it. ‘He tried to kill me, Mum! Why? Why did he do it? Did he hate me so much?’

  And this is what April had been holding back, what she had been hiding from. Maybe she had always known there was something wrong about her family – that’s why she had never questioned the lack of photos in the house, why she had never followed up all those stupid hints about the Black Prince – and maybe the reason she hadn’t confronted it was simple. Because vampires were killers, monsters, ghouls – who could cope with knowing that their grandfather was something from the depths of hell? Yes, Grandpa Thomas had killed her father and that was like a stone weighing on her heart; she would never, ever be able to forgive that. But this man, the big bear of a man who had hugged her, bought her dolls and sweets, and who had been the one solid thing in her life – this man had wanted to rip her throat open. That was breaking her heart.

  ‘Oh baby,’ whispered Silvia, rocking her back and forth, ‘It wasn’t you, it wasn’t your fault.’

  ‘But if I had done as he said? What if I had agreed to it?’

  Silvia turn
ed April’s chin so she was looking straight into her eyes. ‘Listen to me, April, because this is important.’ April could almost feel the heat of her mother’s fury as she spoke. ‘You did nothing wrong. Your grandfather wanted the world to do exactly as he said and if you didn’t go along with it, that made you expendable, whoever you were: you, me, Gabriel, your father, anyone. Believe me, April, even if you had done as he asked, there would have come a time when you became inconvenient or surplus to requirements. Like my mother.’

  ‘Grandma?’

  Silvia nodded.

  ‘We’ll probably never know exactly what happened. Your Uncle Luke spent years over in the Old Country piecing it together, but in the end it came down to Mother wanting me to live a normal life, to grow up free of Thomas’s ambition. She was only trying to protect me, just as I was protecting you, but your grandfather couldn’t accept that.’

  ‘So what did he do?’

  ‘He burnt her alive and fed her remains to his dogs.’

  ‘Jesus,’ whispered April.

  ‘That is why you must never doubt you made the right choice. You made the only choice you could. I’m so, so, proud that you did. Your dad would have expected nothing less.’

  April couldn’t say how long they sat there crying together. She suspected that Silvia had needed this as much as her. It can’t have been easy living with a huge secret your whole life and it can’t have been easy seeing that secret devour the people you loved, one by one. But most of all, it can’t have been easy to kill your father, however evil he was, however much he deserved it – even if was to protect your own child. That truly can’t have been easy.

  But like all storms, theirs finally passed. Mother and daughter blew their noses, wiped their eyes and Silvia began to gather up the photographs and knick-knacks, carefully putting them back into the boxes, along with a little of the pain. It felt – well, not good exactly, but better. Together they carried the boxes downstairs and put them on the shelves in the study, above William Dunne’s old work desk. It felt the right place for them, just as it felt right when Silvia took a handful of pictures and propped them up in the hallway: April as a little girl in her ballet costume, April as a gangly pre-teen sitting on a swing and best of all, the one of April with her Dad, posing by the Loch Ness sign.

 

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