Sleeping Angel (Ravenwood Series)
The service was short and to the point. A couple of readings from a cousin and an aunt, a brief eulogy from the vicar, who told how Annabel Holden had been a selfless person, a teacher, a sister, a friend, someone you could always rely on. April knew that hadn’t always been the case – not for her anyway – but even so, tears began to fill her eyes as the vicar intoned Psalm 23:
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For thou art with me;
thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
And the pallbearers picked up the coffin, solemnly carrying it through the church and out into a waiting hearse. Peter went to speak to one of the mourners, leaving April on her own, slowly following at the back of the line of people walking towards the grave site.
April was pleased to see Miss Holden was being buried in a quiet corner, although she couldn’t help thinking of what Peter had said about the layers of bodies piled up under the ground. Was Miss Holden about to become just another layer? And all the people now standing around the open hole? Were they too going to become a jumble of ribs and shins and skulls, churned up again and again as the digger came to cut a new grave? Funerals were supposed to give you closure, a ritual to make sense of the senseless, but April just felt cheated. One of the few people who had understood what she was going through and had tried to help her was being lowered into a hole. She was alone.
Oh grow up, April.
She smiled: she could almost hear Miss Holden saying it. Peter was right, Miss Holden had not been terribly hot on social skills, but she had possessed passion and conviction. Annabel Holden had been a Guardian, a member of an ancient sect sworn to fight the vampires. It had been Miss Holden who had explained to April what it meant to be a Fury, how the virus April carried in her body could somehow counteract the vampire’s finely-balanced grip on life. One kiss from April and it was all over. Excellent for a vampire killer, though not exactly what most boys were looking for in a girlfriend.
But Miss Holden would not have let April wallow in self-pity. She would have told her to ‘suck it up’. She didn’t have to like it. Who would? Given the choice of being some sort of antidote to a fearsome tribe of mythical beasts or being an ordinary A-level student, most people would avoid the strong-chance-of-being-eaten-alive option. April didn’t even have that choice – she had a job to do – at the very least, find a way to release Gabriel from the living hell of vampirism. And if she could bring down Ravenwood and find out who killed her father that would be a bonus. Either way, she’d spent far too long standing here, it was time to get back to London.
Just as April turned to head back towards the station, a young woman stepped over towards her. Pretty, perhaps late twenties, wearing a black dress, her face was very pale and serious.
‘April Dunne?’ she queried.
‘Yes—’
April felt the sting of the slap before she was even aware the girl had acted. Pain exploded in her cheek and April jerked back, stunned.
‘You arrogant bitch,’ hissed her attacker, ‘How dare you come here?’
April was just beginning to stutter an explanation when a silver-haired old woman wearing a long black coat and fur hat stepped over and put her hands on the girl’s shoulders.
‘Come away, Samantha,’ she said firmly. ‘This isn’t the time.’
‘Isn’t it?’ yelled the girl. ‘She as good as killed Annabel! Has she come to gloat, to see what she has achieved?’ She looked up at the older woman. ‘Don’t you even care?’
‘Of course I care, Sam. Of course I do – we all do. But you know as well as I do that Annabel chose the way she lived her life. She chose it, no one else.’
‘But if she hadn’t ...’
‘There are a million ifs, Samantha,’ said the older woman soothingly. ‘And none of them will bring her back. Now, you go back to the car. I’ll be along in little while, okay?’
Samantha glared at April again, then nodded and turned away.
The older woman gave April a thin smile. ‘I can only apologise,’ she said. ‘Feelings always run high on these occasions. Everyone’s looking for someone to blame.’
‘I understand,’ said April, touching her cheek which was beginning to sting. ‘Honestly, it’s not necessary.’
The woman, stylish like a retired actress or even minor royalty, seemed to be examining her. April felt uncomfortable.
‘I should have introduced myself,’ the woman said, putting her hand out. ‘I’m Elizabeth Holden. Annabel’s mother. ’
April’s mouth dropped open. ‘I’m—I’m really sorry ...’ she stuttered as she shook the woman’s hand. ‘I had no idea, I mean ...’
Mrs Holden smiled kindly and touched April’s arm. ‘Let’s walk, shall we?’ she said, indicating the path back towards the chapel. April felt horribly uncomfortable as they slowly returned. Every night since that unreal scene in the Ravenwood headmaster’s office, she had relived the death of this woman’s daughter, had seen Annabel Holden tied to Mr Sheldon’s desk as Benjamin Osbourne, his face a terrible twisted vampire’s death mask, tortured her with a guttering flame. At least April had been spared actually seeing Benjamin cut the teacher’s throat, but her mind had certainly tried to fill in the blanks – that was usually the point April woke up gasping for air, tears running into her ears.
‘You know,’ said the woman when they had walked a fair distance from the grave, ‘when Annabel was your age, she didn’t want anything to do with the vampires either.’
April looked at her sharply.
‘Oh yes, I know all about it,’ said the woman. ‘Why wouldn’t I? Our family have been Guardians for generations. I begged Annabel not to join, but ... well, I know who’s really to blame. Them.’
‘The, um ...’ April was hesitant about saying the word.
‘Yes, April, the vampires. That’s why I asked that no one from Ravenwood attend the funeral. I didn’t want any of them standing there gloating.’
‘So why did I get asked?’
Elizabeth Holden gave a soft laugh. ‘Because I wanted to meet you, of course,’ she said. ‘I wanted to see this famous Fury for myself.’
April’s heart gave a lurch. ‘You know ...?’
‘Of course I know, April. I try to be aware of everything. Most of all I wanted to know why my daughter had been murdered.’
‘Oh God, look I’m so sorry Mrs Holden, but I ...’
‘April, it’s all right. I don’t blame you. What I said to Samantha was true: Annabel was an adult – she was entitled to make her own choices, even if they put her in danger. God knows, I lost my husband to this damn war. I’ve had plenty of time to make my peace with it.’
She turned and gave a sad smile. ‘You, on the other hand, had no choice, rather dragged in kicking and screaming, I imagine.’
‘Yes,’ said April, relieved. ‘Something like that.’
‘I wish I could give you some words of comfort, tell you it’s all going to turn out fine, but I don’t suppose that would sound convincing especially as we’re talking at a funeral.’
‘No, I suppose not.’
Mrs Holden stopped and turned to April. ‘Listen to me April, what I’m going to say is very important. You must fight them.’
‘I— I’ll try.’
‘That’s not good enough. You must fight and you must win, otherwise all this has been for nothing.’ Her face softened. ‘I’m sorry to be so hard on you and I know it’s not what you want to hear right now. I probably look ancient to you, but I can still remember what it feels like to be your age – or at least some of it – and I know you can’t want to be involved. But you are, April. You can’t wish it away. And you’re special, my dear, very special.’
‘I don’t feel it.’
‘I know, but you will. It will come. You may not want your abilities – God knows, I wouldn’t either – but you’re stuck with them and you have to rise to the challenge.’
‘I wan
t to, but on days like today, it all feels a bit overwhelming.’
Elizabeth Holden smiled ruefully. ‘Yes, I can see that. But look –’ she reached into her bag and pulled out a card. ‘I’ve written my number and address on there. If you ever want to talk about it, or just want to get something off your chest, give me a call, okay? I can’t promise I’ll have any answers, but at least I’ll have a fair idea of what’s going on. I imagine that must be the worst thing – having to deal with everything on your own. I know that’s how Annabel felt.’
‘But she had the Guardians, didn’t she?’
Elizabeth Holden’s face darkened. April wanted to look away, but didn’t think she could. ‘Remember one thing, April. Do not trust anyone. Question your friends, your family. And above all, question us.’
‘Us?’ frowned April. ‘Of course, you’re a Guardian too?’
‘Past tense. Oh, I swore their oaths and swallowed their rhetoric. I was young, newly-wed, in love with my husband and everything he said seemed wonderful. But ... there is a darkness there, April. The Guardians hold secrets, and with secrets come both power and deception, two very dangerous elements. They are not everything they seem.’
April didn’t know what to make of this woman, but she did know she couldn’t fight the vampires alone. ‘I need help,’ she said simply.
The old lady nodded. ‘Then choose your friends carefully, April. Very carefully.’
Chapter Two
April walked back towards the station, feeling even worse than she had earlier. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Why didn’t somebody just walk up and say, ‘Listen April, forget all about this Fury nonsense; I’ll sort it out for you. You just go home and watch the soaps, have some chocolate.’ Instead, it seemed that everybody wanted something from her, everyone had their own agenda. She sighed. At least with the vampires you knew where you stood. They wanted to recruit you for whatever weird schemes they were cooking up at Ravenwood, or they wanted to drink your blood. Not pleasant, admittedly. But straightforward. She turned a corner and suddenly was aware of a figure standing in the shelter of a tree.
‘Gabriel!’ she cried, running up and throwing her arms around him. He smelled good; he felt good.
‘Hey, beautiful,’ he grinned, kissing her forehead.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Thought you might want an escort.’
‘You have no idea,’ said April. ‘You have no idea.’
They sat on the train in silence, watching as the countryside whizzed past. William Dunne had always loved trains; April had teased her dad about it, saying he was train-spotter and ought to wear an anorak, but secretly she had loved those journeys. They would look into people’s back gardens and make up stories about who they were: wizards or giants or pop stars, then they would play complicated games of “I Spy” involving colours and words and sounds.
Daddy, why did you have to die?
April blinked back her tears and squeezed Gabriel’s hand a little tighter – she didn’t want to cry, not now. Not when she felt so safe and close, snuggled up against the man she loved. Maybe Miss Holden’s funeral had affected her more than she had thought.
She was certainly going to too many funerals. She thought of what Detective Chief Inspector Johnston had said to her: ‘People keep dying around you, April.’
Was it her? Did being a Fury mean that she was going to have to accept death as a close companion, shadowing her every move, picking off people she was close to? She looked up at Gabriel – people like him, perhaps. Another of the little movies that played in her head late at night was of Gabe slumped in that burning house, half-dead, his clothes soaked in petrol, begging her to leave him behind. What if she hadn’t pulled him onto the roof? It just didn’t bear thinking about.
‘Gabriel,’ she said. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Sure, anything.’
‘What were you doing at Sheldon’s house that night?’
He looked surprised. ‘The night of the fire, you mean?’
‘Of course,’ she said, more sharply than she had intended. ‘I mean, why did you go to see the Vampire Regent all on your own? Why didn’t you tell me you were going?’
He gave a small smile. ‘Because you would have told me not to.’
‘I wouldn’t ...’
‘You would. You would have said “Gabriel. It’s too dangerous!” or more likely, “Gabriel, you have to take me with you.” and I couldn’t do that, not without putting you in danger. Besides, I wasn’t planning on getting grabbed and tied to a chair – I thought I was going there to meet the Regent, do some sort of deal. But it turned out he knew who I was all along.’
April nodded thoughtfully. ‘But what happened when you got there? I mean, how did you end up tied to that chair?’
It was something that had been bothering April for a while. Yes, Benjamin had lured him there, but how had they overpowered a fully-fledged Sucker so easily? Especially one who was so massively ticked off.
Gabriel frowned, as if he were trying to remember. ‘I ... I’m not sure,’ he said. ‘I suppose I must have knocked my head coming off the roof. It’s all a bit of a blur.’ He turned to her and held both her hands. His eyes were dark, intense. ‘Look, April, I’m sorry to be so vague and I know I’ve been unreliable over the last few months, but as of now I’m all yours – one hundred percent. When the Regent dragged you away in that burning house, I thought I had lost you. I couldn’t stand feeling that again. I never want to be away from you. Okay?’
April felt lightheaded, her heart doing back flips. ‘That’s fine by me,’ she grinned.
He kissed her, on her face, on her neck. April hated the fact that he couldn’t kiss her properly – on the lips – but if he did the Fury virus would consume him slowly from within. I’ll just have to make do with this instead, she thought as Gabriel slipped his hands around her. God knew she could do with Gabriel’s protection – she wasn’t exactly doing a great job looking after herself. Either way, whenever she was with him, April felt that everything was right. Well, not everything, obviously – the world was full of monsters who wanted to burn her alive – but that small detail aside, when April felt his hand in hers, she wouldn’t change anything.
‘So, where are we going?’ asked Gabriel. ‘Shall I escort you back to Covent Garden?’
‘No, I want to go to Highgate, the cemetery. I haven’t seen dad in a week.’
‘Of course, I should have thought,’ he said, opening the carriage door and then leading her down towards the tube. Despite the creepiness of Highgate Cemetery, April still loved going to see her dad. Sometimes it felt as if he was the only one who really understood what was going on. Crazy, of course. William Dunne was dead – no one knew that better than her – but April still liked going to sit by his graveside, chatting to him, telling him her news, imagining what he would say, what advice he would give. Today he would probably tell her not to worry so much about Gabriel – and certainly not to worry about going back to school tomorrow. In life, William Dunne had always given her great advice. Was there any reason he should stop now?
At Archway, they cut through the housing estate below the hospital, skirting around the bottom of the cemetery. Seeing all those headstones through the black iron bars still made April feel uncomfortable, even after all this time. It wasn’t so much that her father was buried in the cemetery, it was more the reminder of that night when Gabriel had pulled her out, the night Isabelle had been murdered.
‘Gabriel, you remember that night? The first night we met?’
‘In the Square?’
She looked at him sharply. ‘That was you? I was never sure.’
Gabriel smiled, his eyes twinkling. ‘It was the first time I ever saw you,’ he said, touching her face, stroking her hair back. ‘I didn’t think I’d ever seen anyone so beautiful.’
April felt butterflies within her take flight. She wanted to kiss him so badly.
‘So why did you suddenly dis
appear?’
He laughed. ‘Your mother turned up remember? I had a hunch she wouldn’t approve of some strange boy lurking around in the shadows outside her house. Turned out I was right.’
‘Oh, I think she’s warmed to you now. All those times you’ve saved my life probably helped.’
Sadly April’s relationship with her mother was rather less warm these days. Since Silvia’s confession of an affair with Robert Sheldon, April had scarcely been able to be in the same room as her mother and had moved out to live with her grandfather in Covent Garden. It wasn’t exactly ideal, but then what was in her life right now?
‘Anyway, I wasn’t talking about then – I meant that night you pulled me out of the cemetery, the night Isabelle died,’ said April as they turned up Swain’s Lane. ‘What happened? You never really told me.’
His expression darkened. ‘I don’t know.’
April knew she should probably drop it, but there was something about that night which had never quite felt right – and it didn’t help that Gabriel seemed reluctant to talk about it. ‘It’s just that when were at Sheldon’s house, Benjamin seemed to be saying that you were involved in Isabelle’s death.’
‘I tried to help her, April,’ said Gabriel, a note of exasperation in his voice. ‘But there was something horrible in that cemetery, something evil. I tried to drag her away like I did with you. But there was a darkness there, something bad, black at its heart. I’ve never felt anything like that before.’
‘But what about what Sheldon was saying ...’
‘This darkness...’ said Gabriel quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself. ‘It was like a blanket, a fog. I couldn’t get through, and it was pressing down on me. I felt almost powerless. If I hadn’t got you out of there, I don’t know what would have happened. And even now, it feels as if ...’
April held up a finger to silence him. ‘Sorry, Gabe! Look!’
Up the road near the cemetery, there was a large white police van parked half on the pavement, with a police car right next to it, their lights still flashing.