‘Such a shame, really, it’s a rather splendid book.’
She looked up. ‘What book?’
Mr Gill reached under his desk and brought out a small volume with a faded red cover. April felt her heart flutter.
‘This is the one he was interested in - Folk Myths of the Ottoman Empire. Very rare. Marvellous condition, though.’
‘May I look at it?’
‘By all means, please. Would you like to go through to the reading room? I think you know the way.’
April sat down and went straight to the index. Furies, the, pp. 23-4, II2, 2I2-34. Yes! There it was!
She quickly turned to the front of the book and read:The earliest mention of the Furies comes late in the reign of Suleiman the Magnificent, around I560, when the empire extended its borders deep into Europe, most notably Hungary, Transylvania and Wallachia. Some scholars believe that, as the vampire folk-myths were so ingrained within this culture, the Ottoman rulers created the Furies as a counter-myth. Others claim that the Fury is a folk-myth corruption of the Old Testament angel imbued with the power to act as the scourge of God. Either way, the story was the same: once every generation, three women will be born with the power to kill vampires, and they will be marked with a star symbol. The Furies’ destructive power was variously explained as having the ability to detect vampires at a glance, to defeat them in battle by superior strength or to destroy them by breathing fire on them. Unlike vampires, there are no contemporary sources that claim to have seen a Fury, although there are reports of whole countries having been cleared of vampires by these creatures. Young (cf.) posits the theory that the Furies are either a personification of Muslim rule or of Islam itself —the light of the prophet literally banishing the creatures of the dark—especially as the Fury birthmark so closely resembles the star enclosed by a crescent moon used on the Ottoman flag. The curious thing is that four hundred years of imperial rule failed to completely dispel the rumours of either vampires or their mysterious nemesis.
‘Bloody hell,’ said April.
Is this me? April thought as she walked back across the square. Am I really the scourge of the vampires? She had read every reference to the Furies she could find in the book, but there was little hard information. It’s a book about ancient myths, April, she reminded herself, not a DIY manual. Besides, just because one myth was true, it didn’t mean they all were. Anyway, even if I am this chosen one, it’s up to me what I do about it. Not all tall people become basketball players.
But April knew in her heart of hearts that she couldn’t ignore it. The Furies were portrayed as superheroes who had been privileged with the power to overthrow evil. But I’m not some ancient warrior queen, she thought to herself. I’m a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl. As she closed the front door behind her, April felt small and vulnerable. She didn’t want to go to war. She wanted to hang out with her friends and gossip about boys, then come home and have tea. The future of the human race seemed a little too much to bear, especially as she was already struggling with her father’s death, a mountain of incomprehensible homework and a sort-of boyfriend who just happened to be a vampire.
‘April? Is that you?’ came the muffled voice from upstairs.
‘Yes, it’s me,’ she said as she wearily climbed the stairs.
‘Davina Osbourne called,’ said Silvia as April walked into the bedroom.
‘Did she? What about?’
‘Oh, I’m sure she just wanted a chat, isn’t that what you girls do all night? Anyway, she was very charming and invited you over tomorrow after school. I left the number on the side.’
April’s face froze as a dozen thoughts went through her head. Was she being recruited already? Should she go along with it? Her mother saw her expression.
‘Is something wrong?’
‘I’ve got a ton of homework, that’s all.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ Silvia tutted. ‘It’s nice to make friends, especially from such a lovely family.’
Like hell they are, thought April.
‘It never does any harm to be friends with some influential people. Take it from one who knows.’
Sighing, April trailed upstairs to her room. She dialled Davina’s number but it was engaged, so she took out her dad’s diary one more time.
If she was honest, April had been gravely disappointed by both the diary and the notebook. She had, of course, been hoping she would find a name written in one or the other with an arrow pointing to it and the words ‘Vampire Regent’ in big capital letters. Then she could tell the police and it would all go away. But it wasn’t going to happen like that. Even if she had found such a miraculous cast-iron clue, she couldn’t tell the police about the vampires because they’d think she was crazy, and the Regent wasn’t necessarily her dad’s killer anyway. In fact, the diary had been even more obtuse than the notebook. Names were abbreviated to initials, phone numbers were scribbled down without any reference and it was all mixed up with things like ‘Pick up dry cleaning’, ‘Don’t forget Russia deadline!’ and ‘Lunch, Riva, 1.30’. She had to admit it appeared to be a normal everyday diary, the kind any busy journalist might carry around with him. But she kept coming back to the same thing: if it was all so innocent, why hide it? April knew she couldn’t rest until she found out the truth about her dad, and it seemed most likely she would only find the answers she wanted by solving the rest of the puzzle and working out who, or what, was behind Ravenwood. Slipping the diary back under the bed, she called Davina again.
‘Oh hi, honey, I heard the big news on the grapevine,’ she said.
‘What news?’
‘That you kicked Gabriel out on the street, of course!’ she trilled.
‘How did you hear about that?’ asked April, suddenly very suspicious.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Davina vaguely. ‘Gabe poured his heart out to Ben, Ben told Marcus, Marcus told Sara, something like that. The point is you’re young free and single, so ...’
‘So?’
‘So we need to make plans! You’re such a hit with the boys that I’m sure we can find you someone gorgeous, especially with the party coming up. There’ll be some very eligible guys there.’
‘What party?’
Davina tutted. ‘Daddy’s Winter Ball, of course. You are coming? You know it’s on Saturday?’
‘Yes, of course. But—’
‘I won’t take no for an answer. It’s the perfect opportunity to meet some amazing boys and totally take your mind off things.’
Despite the fact that April wanted to be as far away from Davina and her kind as possible, she knew it was also a perfect opportunity to find out more about the circumstances surrounding her father’s death. Taking a deep breath, she tried to sound upbeat and excited.
‘Well, if you put it like that, how could I miss it?’
‘That’s settled then. You pop over after school tomorrow and we’ll work the whole thing out. Anyway, must fly, got to finish Ling’s pedi. I’ve left her soaking in the foot spa. Ciao!’
‘Jesus,’ whispered April as she hung up. Surely that girl can’t be a vicious killer? It was like asking her to believe Paris Hilton was going to invade Poland.
‘Darling!’ called her mother, interrupting her thoughts. ‘Did I hear something about a party?’
Chapter Thirty-Five
Caro wasn’t looking too healthy. Her face was white, her eyes red and sunken and she squinted and winced at the morning sunshine.
‘You look like death,’ said April as she sat down next to her on a bench in the deserted playground where they wouldn’t be overheard.
‘Well, I feel like death too,’ said Caro, putting on a pair of sunglasses and pulling her coat tighter around her body. ‘I think I’ve got a two-day hangover. I couldn’t even get out of bed yesterday, had to get my mum to ring the school. What happened in that club anyway? All I remember is a throbbing red room and loads of fit boys in a booth.’
‘That must have been after I left,’ said April with a sm
ile. ‘What boys were these?’
‘No, really - there were loads of gorgeous boys all wanting to talk to me and buy me drinks, then the next thing I remember is your Mister-bloody-Darcy turning up, scaring them all off and telling me it’s time to go home. I mean, where’s the fun in that?’
‘Gabriel took you home?’ asked April, failing to hide the jealous note in her voice.
‘More like a kidnapping, actually, almost got me in a head-lock to drag me out of the club. Then he spent the whole journey home quizzing me about what Ben and Davina had been saying to me. I tell you, considering he’s their friend, he doesn’t seem to like them much.’
‘Well, that’s sort of why I dragged you out here. I’ve got something to tell you about him.’
‘Oh God, April,’ said Caro. ‘You’re not—’
‘No, I am not pregnant!’ said April indignantly. ‘I can’t believe you’d even think that,’ she added in a quieter voice. ‘Besides which, I might be naive, but I do know you have to have sex in order to get pregnant. I’ve only known him two weeks, Caro!’
‘Sorry, brain’s not engaged today,’ said Caro, waving a hand.
‘Well, try,’ said April seriously, ‘because this is important. I don’t know who I can trust any more but I’ll go mad if I don’t tell someone. So please tell me I can trust you.’
Caro sat up straight and lifted her sunglasses. ‘What? Yes, of course,’ she said, dismayed. ‘Of course you can trust me. Why would you even ask that?’
April shrugged sheepishly. ‘Well, you looked as if you were getting on very well with Davina and Benjamin in the club.’
‘So? I’d had about a gazillion cocktails!’ she said. ‘And they knew some totally fit boys. End of story. Anyway, why would that mean you couldn’t trust me?’
April looked at her. ‘Because Davina and Benjamin are vampires.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
April took a deep breath and started from the beginning. She told Caro about finding her dad’s notebook, then visiting Mr Gill and the Kingsley-Davis book. She told her about the nests and the Vampire Regent. Then she told her about the night in Covent Garden and the chase along the Embankment.
‘No way,’ whispered Caro, her eyes wide. ‘You stabbed him?’
Finally she told her about Gabriel finding the mark and the Furies.
‘Wow!’ said Caro, staring off into the distance. ‘That’s ... that’s mad.’
April waited for the questions and the mickey-taking and the suggestion she visit a shrink, but Caro remained silent, just staring back at the school.
‘Well, this isn’t the reaction I was expecting,’ said April with a nervous laugh.
‘Hey, you’re preaching to the choir here, remember,’ said Caro. ‘I told you we were surrounded by vampires the first day you were at school.’
‘Yes, but I thought you were talking figuratively. Like they were sucking the life out of you or something, not actual real-life bloodsuckers.’
‘Well, that too. But the thing about this place? I’ve been trying to get to the bottom of that for years. I’m pleased that I’m so goddamn clever, honestly, I’m just a bit too sick to do cartwheels right now.’
April looked at her. She had been expecting laughter or derision or at the very least some whooping and ‘I told you so’s. She was disappointed and a little annoyed that Caro was so calm. After all, she was telling her that they were surrounded by the undead. To most people, this would be big news.
‘Don’t you think this is weird?’ she asked with irritation.
‘Of course it’s weird,’ said Caro soothingly, ‘but you’re missing the big picture, honey. Three people have been killed within a few hundred metres of each other in the space of less than a month, but there’s been weird stuff happening here for ages. Something is wrong in Highgate and very wrong at Ravenwood. I know it’s hard for you to get your head around, with it all happening so fast and, well, so horribly close to home, but some of us here - those who have been paying attention, anyway - have been living with this for years. You coming here and giving it a name, a proper explanation, it just confirms what I’ve suspected for a long time.’
‘And what’s that?’ asked April.
Caro took off her sunglasses, and her eyes were terribly sad. ‘That we’re surrounded by evil.’
Fortified by strong coffee and two fizzy vitamin tablets, Caro was feeling more human by lunchtime. She and April had gone to the library to research the final days of Alix Graves on side-by-side Internet terminals.
‘It’s amazing what you can find, isn’t it?’ said April, staring at the screen. ‘If you’re a celebrity, it’s like you’re constantly under surveillance. You can find out where he went shopping, who he was meeting, everything.’
‘I can even tell you what he had for lunch,’ said Caro, swivelling her screen towards April. ‘Have a look at this.’
It was a website called ‘Celebstalking.com’ which had a headline reading ‘Grave Danger’. April read: If you are what you eat, then drop-dead gorgeous singer Alix Graves is a heart attack waiting to happen. Spies in Soho yesterday spotted him coming out of Rancho Diablo, the Texas steak joint. Further investigation revealed that the Belarus frontman had gorged himself on a full rack of ribs followed by a very rare T-bone steak, all washed down with ‘three or four’ beers. Watch out, Alix, you’ll be growing horns. Or love-handles!
‘God, it must be awful having people following you everywhere,’ said April.
‘Well, it’s lucky for us they did,’ said Caro.
‘Morning, ladies!’
They both turned to see Simon saunter in. He looked as fresh as Caro looked wrecked: hair perfectly combed across his forehead, casually dressed in a navy jumper and jeans with a silk scarf at his neck. He looked like he’d stepped off the back page of GQ.
Caro and April exchanged a ‘what-the-hell?’ glance.
‘Well, isn’t this all very exciting?’ said Simon. ‘I get a mysterious text in the middle of double Maths asking me to come to the library, and now I get here to find two gorgeous girls beavering away. What gives?’
‘We were just wondering if you wanted to look at some pictures of Alix Graves?’
Simon pulled a face. ‘Not really. Seems a bit passé, if you know what I mean.’
‘I thought you loved Belarus?’ said Caro, narrowing her eyes.
‘Did, past tense,’ he said airily, heading back out. ‘I’ll leave you to it. Want to meet for lunch with the girls?’
‘What was that all about?’ said April when he had gone. ‘I thought he loved dissecting Alix’s outfits and stuff?’
Caro had a frown line between her eyes. ‘Did you see what he was wearing? And who are “the girls”? I thought we were his girls.’
‘You don’t think he’s talking about the Faces, do you?’
Caro nodded. ‘I think we should keep our investigations to ourselves for the moment,’ she said.
April watched her friend form the corner of her eye as she got up and walked over to the printer. She was obviously upset by Simon’s behaviour, but she just as obviously didn’t want April to know about it. Caro picked up a sheet of paper and handed it to April.
‘Have a look at this,’ she said. It was a double-page spread from a German tabloid, published two days after Alix’s death. The photos from the news story were of the outside of his house, showing an ambulance behind a police cordon as his body was brought out on a stretcher.
‘Basically, the story says that Alix was having a big party on the night of his death,’ said Caro. ‘The Europeans aren’t so hot on libel and all that as we Brits are so they can be as sensationalist as they like, and they’re saying this party was a big goth orgy. Candles, incense, drugs, booze and ladies of the night - the other kind, of course - every decadent cliché you can think of.’
‘Wow,’ said April. ‘But then I guess they can say anything now he’s dead, can’t they?’
‘Exactly. It’s not terribly reliab
le stuff, especially when they go on to suggest his death was some drugs-and-sex experiment gone wrong. Personally, I got the feeling it was a lot more violent than that. Anyway, that’s not what I was looking at. Check out the big photo on the right.’
April’s heart jumped. Alix Graves was stripped to the waist, looking moody and pouting at the camera. But it wasn’t the singer’s magnificent pecs April was staring at.
‘See anything that looks familiar?’ Caro asked.
She did. There was a tattoo on his right shoulder in the shape of a star, the exact same shape as the one on her head. April jumped up and rushed into the library toilets. Leaning in to the mirror, she scraped her hair back. It’s the same! It’s the same! she thought as Caro came in behind her.