‘Let me guess, it’s against the rules?’ said April, her voice shaking.
‘April, you have to understand – I should never have even told you about the Albus Libre, I can’t help you find it too. Yes, there are rules …’
‘Well screw your rules and screw your war!’ shouted April, standing up again. ‘If you won’t help me, you’re not much use, are you?’
She picked up her bag and strode over to the door.
‘You know what? I’ll ask my friends. They’ll help me, however dangerous it is – because we look out for each other.’
‘April, please …’
‘I’ll see you in school,’ she said, closing the door behind her.
Chapter Six
April didn’t feel like going to school, but she knew she had to. She could probably get away with skipping a few days on compassionate grounds, but after her meeting with Miss Holden, she was filled with a new sense of purpose. The woman was maddening, with her riddles and her ridiculous rules, but she was right about one thing: April couldn’t waste time wishing this whole mess away, she had to roll up her sleeves and get to work. She needed to find the book, and then she would have the means to save Gabriel; she had to track down the Regent, somewhere in the shadows behind Ravenwood, and make him release Gabriel – then they could be together at last. And she needed to find out who had killed her dad, and then she would have peace of mind. She had spent far too long being a silly little girl. It was time to grow up and accept that none of this was going to go away. Yes, she wished her dad would come back, she wished she and Gabriel could run away and leave it all behind and, more than anything, she wished she didn’t have this bloody Fury thing hanging over her, making her even more unsure of herself. As she walked up the steps to the school’s main entrance, she decided she was going to do whatever was necessary to bring this to a conclusion. It was the helplessness, the sense of being overwhelmed that was crippling her. If she was honest with herself, she had wanted Miss Holden to just say, ‘Okay, April, I’ll make it all stop. No vampires, no Fury, just you and Gabriel – oh, and look – your father has come back.’ But she hadn’t – she couldn’t. April had to face up to the fact that she was a natural anomaly, like those kids who could play chess at three or who could do back flips. She was what she was, it was that simple. ‘Get on with it’, that’s what her dad would have said. ‘You don’t have to like it, but you do have to finish the job.’
Right then, thought April, let’s get this sorted. Infiltrate the Faces, see what I can learn about Ravenwood, and turn Gabriel back into a vamp. If I don’t start doing something, I’ll go mad.
She found Caro after her English lesson and pulled her into the girls’ toilets. After checking they were alone, she laid it out for her.
‘It’s time to get serious. I’m going to find that book and I’m going to find the Regent.’
‘Brilliant. I’m with you all the way.’
‘No you’re not. Not any more.’
Caro frowned.
‘Why not?’
‘Because we’re being naïve about this. We’re assuming the Suckers are stupid, but that’s the last thing they are. They’ve remained hidden for centuries, they’ve set up this school to recruit new vamps and heaven only knows what else they’re up to.’
‘Okay … so how are we being naïve?’
‘Because if Suckers are anything, they’re suspicious and paranoid. One of their own has been killed by a weird disease. Vampires don’t get sick – so that’s going to make them jumpy at the very least. My dad’s been killed and I’ve been attacked – that makes me exactly the sort of person who would get nosy, maybe put two and two together. And that’s why I want to keep you out of this.’
‘That’s very noble of you but …’
‘I’m serious, Caro. I’ve realised I have to take this seriously, and the more we dig into this the more we’re going to put ourselves in danger. So I don’t want you getting into all this Vampire Regent and stuff with the Faces. I have to do it, you don’t.’
‘But you can’t do everything on your own.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ve got a job for you. Dig into the governors of Ravenwood.’
‘I’ve tried that, but …’
‘Well try harder! Someone must have put their name to something. Remember when we broke into Sheldon’s office? I found an invoice for some weird windows they’d put into the science block. That must have been expensive, someone will have had to sign that off. And something else – I want to know why the vamps don’t come out in photos.’
Caro grinned.
‘Okay boss, you’re in charge,’ she said.
April nodded. For the first time in ages, she felt as if she was in control of what was happening.
‘Yes I am,’ she said. ‘And I’m not going to forget it.’
Chapter Seven
For once, Mr Gill wasn’t asleep. Usually April startled him out of a doze when she pushed through the door of Griffin’s bookshop, making his little bell jangle. The strange, dusty little store didn’t attract many customers and April got the impression Mr Gill preferred to be left alone with his books and memories, all stacked up in teetering piles. Of course, she didn’t think he’d just have a copy of the Albus Libre sitting on his desk, but it was a good place to start. But today, Mr Gill was different. For a start, he was wearing a clean tie with pink spots.
‘My dear girl!’ said the shopkeeper as April walked in, ‘Splendid to see you. How have you been keeping?’
‘I’ve been a little under the weather, to be honest,’ said April.
‘Of course, of course, I had heard. A terrible business.’ He moved a pile of brochures from a stool. ‘Sit down, please, and tell me to what I owe this happy visit.’
April saw that the brochures were for holidays and that there were stacks of old travel books piled on his desk.
‘Are you going somewhere?’ she asked.
‘Ah, well that’s the question. Where to go when the world is your oyster?’
April laughed.
‘You seem, well, quite upbeat?’
‘I am, I am. And I have you to thank for that, my dear.’
‘Me? Why?’
‘Because you reminded me of what is important in life. I have been sitting here surrounded by these dusty old books, cataloguing, listing, alphabetising, never looking out of the window. And then in you come and say one magic word. Well, no, you didn’t exactly say the word, but you let it pop into my head.’
‘And what was the word?’
‘Marjorie,’ he said wistfully.
‘The school librarian?’
‘The very same. She had somehow managed to slip out of my life, but I’m delighted that we are now courting.’
‘That’s wonderful,’ said April. ‘Are you whisking her away for a mini-break?’
‘I have no idea what a mini-break is, but yes I was hoping to rekindle the flame of our passion on some sunny boulevard. And it’s permanent – I’m selling up this one-man gaol. One of those coffee chains you young people seem so fond of has made me a very generous offer.’
April felt sick. Yet another adult walking out of her life. One of the few people she felt would never change was doing exactly that. Why can’t anyone stand still for two seconds? she thought. Her face must have betrayed her disappointment.
‘Don’t take it so hard, dear girl, I had no idea these dusty tomes were so important to you.’
April shook her head.
‘I’m sorry, I’m being selfish. It’s great that you’re getting out there and finding happiness, genuinely, that’s brilliant. I just hope you have more luck with love than I’m having.’
Mr Gill picked up his tartan flask and poured April a cup of tea.
‘Yes, I can see that something is troubling you. Is it an affair of the heart?’
April found her eyes were filling with tears.
‘Sorry,’ she said, taking the tissue Mr Gill offered. ‘It’s just that someone I
care about is in a great deal of danger.’
‘And how can I help?’
‘I need to find a book. A rare book. It’s called the Albus Libre.’
Mr Gill immediately looked troubled.
‘Are you sure? Are you sure that’s the title of the book you’re looking for?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘Well, it’s a very rare tome indeed. There are many who think it’s just a myth, one of those books people wish existed, but never did.’
April blew her nose.
‘But it has to exist, Mr Gill. It’s my only hope.’
‘It’s none of my business of course, but why would you want such a thing? The Albus Libre is a book of the occult.’
‘I know, but it’s very important I find it.’
‘I can see that, my dear. But I’m not sure I can help you. It’s one of those books which have become legendary. No one has ever seen a copy, but there are always rumours. A dealer I once worked with in Munich has a client who claims to have met someone with a copy in their private collection. But I’ve never met anyone who has seen it themselves. All we know is that it is wrong.’
‘Wrong? That’s a curious thing to say about a book.’
‘Not wrong as in “not right”, but as in dangerous. Evil, perhaps.’
‘Because of the spells?’
Mr Gill sipped his tea and sat back.
‘Oh, I doubt that any of them work, my dear. There are plenty of old spell-books on the market, many of them genuinely very old, but most of them are fragments of something. Like someone’s trying to clutch at the last rays of sunshine and trap them between parchment leaves. No, I’m not worried by the spells. It’s the sort of person they attract that concerns me.’
‘So you have no idea where I’d find a copy?’
‘Turin, perhaps? Or Jordan. They have quite a brisk trade in the exotic out there.’
April gaped at him.
‘Jordan in the Middle East?’
‘Quite so. In fact …’ He rummaged through his pile of brochures and pulled one out, entitled ‘The Seven Wonders Tour’. ‘See?’ he said, pointing at photos inside. ‘They do trips to Luxor, Petra and the site of Babylon.’
‘But I can’t go there,’ said April in despair. ‘I need the book right away.’
Mr Gill looked at her sympathetically.
‘I’d love to help you, but it’s dangerous to venture down that path.’
‘You think I might do some bad magic?’
‘No, I think it’s nonsense myself. But the people who do believe in it, they are dangerous. And I think they are on the rise.’
‘What?’
‘Oh, I may be an old man, but I’ve been here long enough to see this happen before. I heard what happened to you. And your father, of course. It’s a pattern, I’m afraid. I don’t think your father will be the last.’
‘But we can’t just let it happen, Mr Gill.’
Mr Gill put down his tea and nodded thoughtfully. ‘Quite so, quite so.’
‘So what can I do?’
Mr Gill stood up and turned April to look out of the window. From where they stood, they could see the steeple of St Michael’s, the fox weather vane just visible, turning lazily in the wind.
‘When darkness falls,’ he said, ‘look to the light, my dear.’
April thanked Mr Gill and left him leafing through a book of European canal maps. She had wanted the old man to give her more answers, but she knew she’d have to dig deeper than that. So why not follow his hint and try at the church? St Michael’s overlooked the cemetery after all – and whether it was coincidence or not, the cemetery had been the centre of everything bad which had happened in the village. Certainly easier to get to than the Middle East, anyway. She was walking along South Grove, staring up at the black spire, when she turned and saw another police car parked across the road from her house.
Oh God, not again, she thought. Don’t let it be more bad news. She ran across the square and burst through the front door to find DI Reece sitting in the front room, perched awkwardly on the edge of his chair, a cup and saucer held in both hands. The way Silvia was glaring at him, April knew Reece hadn’t had a comfortable wait.
‘What’s up?’ said April eagerly. ‘Is there news about Dad’s case?’
‘No,’ said Silvia with undisguised anger. ‘We’ve just been discussing the Inspector’s so-called detective work. It seems he has run out of ideas.’
‘Now that’s not what I said, Mrs Dunne,’ said Reece. ‘I said our current leads have failed to return the results we would have liked. That doesn’t mean we have given up on the case by any means …’
Silvia narrowed her eyes. ‘It seems to me, Inspector …’ she began, but April cut her off.
‘What is it, Mr Reece? Have you found Marcus?’
‘No, I’m afraid not,’ said DI Reece, glancing nervously at April’s mother, clearly expecting another outburst.
‘Don’t give him a hard time, Mum,’ said April. ‘He’s doing his best.’
‘Well his best isn’t good enough! My husband has been killed and my daughter attacked, forgive me if I expect the police to come up with a little more than “we don’t know”.’
‘I can understand your frustrations, Mrs Dunne …’
‘Can you? Can you really? Have you ever had to bury a loved one?’
Reece paused, looking at her.
‘Yes, I have.’
‘Well, then I’m sure you appreciate my need to find answers. Like: what exactly are the police doing to prevent any further attacks on this family?’
‘The house is still being watched, of course.’
‘That silly little police car parked in the square? You really think that’s going to stop this maniac?’
‘Mum! Please!’
‘Well excuse me for feeling protective of my only daughter …’
‘Please! At least until the inspector has told me why he’s here.’
‘Well actually it’s a missing persons case. I wouldn’t usually be given this, but considering the circumstances, it’s been brought to my attention.’
April looked from Reece to her mother.
‘Who’s missing?’
‘Your little friend Layla, darling,’ said Silvia. ‘She’s disappeared.’
Chapter Eight
Layla had disappeared without trace. She had left the party at Davina’s house and had not been seen since. It was as if the moment she stepped onto the street, she had been swallowed up by the city.
‘According to her mother, Layla went to the party promising to be home by ten,’ said DI Reece. ‘But she never made it. Layla’s seventeen and by all accounts is pretty self-sufficient. Usually we wait forty-eight hours before we raise the alarm, but given everything that’s been going on in the area, we’re taking this seriously.’
Reece explained that Davina had waved Layla off at about nine-thirty, just after April had left, and according to Davina she’d insisted on walking home. It was only a five-minute walk to her house, but when she hadn’t returned by eleven, her mother had called Davina, who had raised the alarm.
‘Why wait forty-eight hours, Inspector? These are children we’re talking about here. Anything could happen in that time,’ said April’s mother, still clearly spoiling for a fight.
Reece shrugged wearily. ‘It’s the twenty-first century, Mrs Dunne. In most of these cases, the missing person has gone to an all-night party without mentioning it, met up with a new boyfriend or is just sleeping off too much drink at a friend’s house. Kids these days get themselves into more trouble than they used to, but I’m afraid we find they’re no more likely to confide in their parents.’
April saw her mother bristle at the implication, but she knew the policeman was correct. April reckoned she had managed to get herself into more trouble than any teenager in history and she still had no intention of telling her mother about it. She could hardly just drop it into conversation: ‘Mum, I’ve discovered a nest of bloodthi
rsty vampires at my school and I suspect they may be behind Dad’s murder. Oh, I should have mentioned that I have some sort of super powers to kill them.’ She’d land in the local loony bin so fast her feet wouldn’t touch the ground.
DI Reece turned to April.
‘Do you know anything about this, April? Does Layla have a boyfriend she might have gone to stay with?’
April shook her head.
‘No, as far as I know she was still cut up about Milo.’
‘That’s the boy who died?’ said Silvia. ‘She was involved with him?’
Reece nodded. ‘Another of the reasons we’re concerned. She might well have been feeling emotional last night – I understand the boy fell ill at a similar party a few months ago.’
April felt her stomach turn over. He fell ill because of me, because I poisoned him with my kiss, she thought.
The detective’s sharp eyes caught the change in April’s expression.
‘What is it, April? Do you know something about it?’
‘No, not really. Layla did seem a little bit upset at school yesterday, but she seemed back to her old self at the party. I think she might have been drinking though …’
‘Are you sure that’s all? This is important, April. You won’t be getting Layla into any trouble if that’s what you’re worrying about. All we want to do is make sure she’s safe.’
‘I didn’t – I don’t – really know Layla that well.’
‘Really?’ said Reece, raising one eyebrow. ‘Your teacher said she found you two talking yesterday …’ He flipped open his notebook and read a line. ‘… “deep in conversation” was how she put it.’
‘Well, if you must know we were just talking about losing people,’ said April, blushing at the lie. ‘You know, my dad’s just died and she had Milo pass away …’
Reece looked at her sceptically.
‘That doesn’t sound like someone you barely knew.’
‘I suppose we had a few things in common, but I wouldn’t have called her a close friend.’
‘And was one of these things in common this boy Milo?’ asked Reece.