Blood Ties (9 page)

Cassie nodded, still a hint of doubt lingering in her mind.

‘Yeah. That was … I guess it was less involved than I expected. Still, I don’t know if it’s something I want to do on a regular basis.’ Her head was spinning.

‘Regular feeding is a must, Cassie,’ said Sir Alric seriously. ‘As you have seen, if done properly, it is a simple and harmless procedure. But if you leave it too long – if you let yourself become too hungry – that is when you make mistakes and lose control. And that is when people get hurt.’

He walked to the door and placed a hand on the doorknob. ‘For the moment, the Tears of the Few will help to sustain you. As long as their effect lingers, you will not need to feed as regularly as the other Few. You have done well today, but as soon as you feel the hunger growing, Cassandra, you must let me know, and we will meet again.’

Sir Alric Darke opened the door. ‘Until then …’

CHAPTER TEN

‘I
look ridiculous.’

‘You do not. You look gorgeous!’

Cassie and Isabella stood together in front of the mirrored wardrobe, Isabella impossibly elegant in jeans, leather boots and red cashmere, Cassie obsessively smoothing and tugging at the dark-green silk of her borrowed dress.

‘You don’t like it? You don’t like my dress!’

‘Isabella, I love your dress. It’s what’s inside it that looks like an idiot.’

‘Tchah! You are blind as well as stupid.’ Isabella tossed her hair. ‘I’m looking stunning, darling, and you look twice as good as me. Of course, I’d like to think I am at least a little bit responsible for that.’

Cassie grinned. Things between her and Isabella had been surprisingly normal since the feeding tutorial, much to Cassie’s relief. Even so, whatever Sir Alric said, she was planning to stretch things out as long as she possibly could before putting her friend – and herself – through the strange experience again.

She blinked at her reflection in the mirror. Her light-brown hair had had a proper cut – courtesy of Isabella again: how was she ever going to pay the girl back for this kindness as well as all the others? Now styled and smoothed, it had a satiny gleam. Isabella had chucked all Cassie’s congealed and broken old lipsticks and eyeshadows into the bin, and worked some kind of magic with her own vastly expensive make-up kit. Staring into the mirror was like looking at a different person – a new, way-better-looking version of herself. She chuckled sardonically at her reflection and again pulled at her dress uncomfortably.

Isabella was right about one thing: she’d let herself get too thin – an invading spirit and the subsequent trauma would do that to a girl – but the colour of the fabric did bring out her eyes. The contrast with the rich, dark green made her yellow-green irises look brilliantly pale and piercing.

Her friend gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘Trust me, you look fabulous, OK? Now get your Jimmy Choos on. You’re going to party with your beau!’

‘Get your Jimmy Choos on, you mean,’ remarked Cassie under her breath, but she felt a thrill of glamour as she slipped into the gorgeous stilettos. ‘Am I going to be able to walk?’

‘In these shoes you do not walk, Cassie, you stalk.’

‘Sure, whatever you say. I just wonder where I’m going dressed like this. I wish we were going to Coney Island with you guys.’

Perhaps she might even have had a chance to talk to Jake about his extra-curricular activities. Jake was still avoiding being alone with Cassie, and she was certain it was so that she couldn’t pressure him to give up the hunt for Katerina.

‘Don’t be silly, your date will be so glamorous.’ Isabella shook her head and sighed. ‘Though mine is romantic, isn’t it? Jake and I shall stroll on the boardwalk, arm in arm. We shall eat Nathan’s hot dogs. We shall ride the Cyclone!’

‘Uh-huh, so you have an excuse to scream and hang on to his neck.’

Isabella gave her a suggestive smile. ‘What else is a rollercoaster for? Ah!’ She gave a shriek of delight as a knock rattled the door of their room. ‘Here he is!’

Here, as a matter of fact, were both of them, though they obviously hadn’t planned to arrive together. Ranjit and Jake stood awkwardly, as far apart as they could reasonably be, their body language screaming their discomfort. As Isabella flung the door wide, their relief was palpable.

‘Hey, gorgeous.’ Jake’s stiff expression melted into a huge grin as he swung Isabella in his arms. ‘You look terrific!’

‘Do not sound so surprised!’ She kissed him with shameless enthusiasm. ‘Shall we go and be tourists?’

‘I am dying to be a tourist in my own city. Even if I can’t take you somewhere expensive,’ he muttered, with a slightly resentful glance at Ranjit’s tuxedo.

‘Hey! Just being with you is priceless!’ Isabella punched his arm.

Meanwhile, Cassie found she couldn’t meet Ranjit’s eyes. She made herself clasp her fingers just to stop herself fiddling with her dress. Oh, God. What if she’d got this horribly wrong? What if he was embarrassed to be seen with her? What if …

His shoes were right there, though, so she had to look up and smile at him. That was when she knew it would be OK. His expression was one of startled awe, and there was even a hint of crimson in his dark cheekbones.

‘Cassie.’ He drew in a long breath, and shyly offered a yellow rose. ‘You look … beautiful.’

‘You too,’ she blurted before she could stop herself. It was true, though. The tux must have been hand-made for him, perfectly fitted to his lithe body. She swore she could make out the lines of his muscles under the expensive fabric.

‘Well, you guys.’ Jake was clutching Isabella’s hand, hesitating at the doorway and clearly desperate to leave. ‘Have a good time.’

Ranjit cleared his throat. ‘You too. Enjoy yourselves.’

Isabella was stifling laughter. ‘Happy Valentine’s Day,’ she mouthed at Cassie. Then Jake was pulling her out of the room, the door swung shut, and they were gone.

Ranjit released a huge sigh of relief, and Cassie giggled.

‘Cassandra Bell,’ he grinned. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

It wasn’t a long ride by yellow cab, but Ranjit insisted they couldn’t walk – ‘not in those fantastic shoes’ – even though Cassie would have liked the fresh winter air. She only realised they had a deadline when the cab was pulling up on the corner of 57th Street and Seventh Avenue.

‘Oh my God,’ she breathed as she stepped out of the cab. ‘I’m at Carnegie Hall.’

‘How do you get to Carnegie Hall?’ smiled Ranjit. ‘Practise, practise …’

She giggled as she took his arm. ‘That’s a terrible joke.’

‘That’s a really old joke.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘We’d better take our seats. Come on.’

Cassie would have been happy sitting behind a pillar in the back row of the balcony, but they were guided to a box on the first tier, right at the front and overlooking the stage directly. It was such an exposed position she would have felt quite self-conscious, if it hadn’t been for Ranjit’s comforting hand in hers.

Then the curtain rose and she was instantly swept away by the music. Funny, she’d never heard anything by Richard Strauss in her life, and barely a note by Tchaikovsky or Beethoven, but straight away the music felt as if it belonged to her alone. Mesmerised, she was only vaguely aware of Ranjit’s glances in her direction, but her senses sprang into overdrive when his fingertips stroked her hand. Crazily, tears pricked at her eyelids and she blinked them back. It would be stupid to cry, when she felt happier than she had in as long as she could remember.

Still, too many feelings were coming alive. She couldn’t do anything to stop it, and she didn’t want to. She was supremely aware of everything: the warmth of Ranjit’s hand and the sharp tingle of her own nerves in response; the music, overwhelming her brain and her emotions, every single instrumental part sounding distinct in her head but every one harmonious with the next. She could taste the warmth and scent of the audience, breathing out and in, some of them occasionally holding their breath until the music made them release it in a rushing exhalation. She could hear the people as well as she could hear the music: the breathing, the rustle of silk and the occasional squeak of a leather shoe, the creak as someone shifted in a seat; the scrape of a bow across strings, the feathery whisper as a page of music was turned.

So it was inevitable that she’d feel a gaze if it was focused on her.

She was being watched. She knew it quite suddenly. Her forehead prickled with the stare, and for the first time she forgot the orchestra, forgot the soaring thunder of the music. When she lifted her own gaze, she knew the exact direction and she found the watcher immediately.

Shock hit her so hard she was left breathless. Across the auditorium, in the opposite box to their own, four girls sat. She knew them all: three sixth formers from the Academy, all Few. The superior Sara was one of them; Cassie didn’t know the names of the two on either side of her, only that they’d never been friendly.

But the fourth face was one she knew all too well. Palely lovely, cold as the Arctic but glowing with beauty. An ice queen, a Hitchcock blonde. Perfect in every way – except for the scar slashed across her left cheek.

Cassie felt Ranjit’s fingers tighten questioningly on her hand, but she was too frozen with shock to respond. Only when applause erupted to signify the interval did she snap out of it. The explosion of noise shattered her trance of horror and she turned to him with desperation.

‘Katerina. Katerina’s here!’

Ranjit frowned, but he didn’t question her. He turned at her nod and stared in the direction of the opposite box. When Katerina lifted a delicate hand in a mocking little wave, he didn’t react, but Cassie saw his eyes light with familiar fire. It was that swirling dark glow she’d seen before, like molten lava. It had been frightening the first time she’d seen it. This time it was strangely reassuring.

‘I’m really sorry, Cassie.’ Ranjit’s voice was cool and deadly. ‘I had no idea she was in New York.’

‘It doesn’t matter. Really.’ Her heart was thrashing, at odds with her words. Katerina was in New York. Her mind flew to Jake. He had been hunting her all around the globe. What would he do if he found out she was here, in his home town? Within his reach … Ranjit’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

‘I had ordered champagne for the interval in the Members’ Bar,’ he said. ‘But if you’d rather we stayed here …’

Cassie shook her head violently. ‘I’m not about to let her spoil a lovely evening. We’ll avoid them.’

He squeezed her hand. ‘We’ll certainly try. Come on.’

They should have been able to stay well out of the way of Katerina and her friends, but despite the swelling crowds heading downstairs, Katerina was clearly determined not to stay out of theirs. Ranjit had just poured two frosty flutes of champagne in the Members’ Bar when the blonde girl emerged from the smattering of well-heeled patrons, her friends flanking her like some kind of praetorian guard.

‘Well, ding-dong Bell,’ she drawled, giving Cassie a disdainful once-over. ‘If it isn’t the scholarship girl.’

‘That’s enough, Katerina.’ Ranjit’s voice was low and even, but there was a distinct undercurrent of threat to it.

‘I quite agree. It’s more than enough. For this lowlife to remain at the Academy while I was expelled is simply … Oh dear, how shall we put it?’

‘A crime,’ murmured Sara.

‘That’s kind, dear Sara, but crime can be fun and sophisticated.’ Katerina gave a thin-lipped smile as the other three girls chuckled. ‘There must be another word.’

‘A disgrace,’ suggested the brunette at Sara’s side.

Cassie took a gulp of her champagne. The icy coolness hit her tongue and throat and rebounded straight to her head, but she didn’t feel drunk: only cold and fierce. It felt good. Ranjit’s arm was around her waist, at once protective and warning, but she didn’t feel the need for his support. She took another swig from her glass, emptying it.

‘Heavens, this isn’t Sheffield town centre.’ Sara’s English accent was cut-crystal. ‘We’re not here to binge drink and vomit, Miss Bell.’

Katerina was still tapping her jaw gently with a finger. Cassie watched her face, fascinated by that scar. She remembered putting it there, back in that dark tunnel as she made her escape from the twisted Few ritual beneath the Arc de Triomphe. For the first time she was actively glad. Yes, that had been a good moment. In fact she’d like to do it again. Right now.

But Katerina was speaking again, distracting her.

‘Hmm, I’m still trying to think of the appropriate term. Disgrace just doesn’t begin to describe what happened last term. Sir Alric has plummeted in the estimation of many people. Such a decline in standards.’

‘Leave here, Katerina.’ Ranjit was absolutely still, but his voice was heavy with menace.

‘Ah! I know the word,’ said Sara, ignoring him. ‘Let’s see: a noble spirit inside something so unworthy. A mismatch. A freak. It should never have happened, Katerina darling, just like your expulsion. It’s an … abomination.’

All four girls sighed out their satisfaction.

‘Yes,’ smirked Katerina. ‘That’s it precisely. An abomination.’

WHAT DID SHE CALL US?

The stem of Cassie’s champagne flute snapped in her hand. She heard a strange growl, but it seemed to come from far away – or perhaps somewhere deep inside her. Her eyes burned hot, so hot, and everything had gone red, as though she was looking at the world through a scarlet filter. She registered the shock on Ranjit’s face, and knew he was staring at her.