The Blood Bride (Blood Secrets) (2 page)

“They came in swiftly. Not a coven or nest that I find vaguely familiar, Mistress.” She relayed the information in broken bursts, while a small silver-haired man stepped forward on quick, silent feet. Even though she had been raised within the nest, she still forgot their super speed sometimes…among their many other gifts.

“The only scent I recognise is Miss Hope’s and even that peters out once I am beyond the main drive.” The silver haired man, James, bowed low.

“Yes. But I recognise another scent, but I can’t see how he could have survived the fires.” A statuesque woman, blonde and possessing piercing blue eyes, stepped forward. Mistress Cressida had arrived. Her movements were graceful and she was striking in an ice blue formal suit, tall and slim with pale skin and ruby red lips that glistened. An unmistakable aura of power and age surrounded her, and Jemima shrank back slightly.

“Mistress?” the small man asked once more, his movements just as graceful as the woman he addressed. His skin was as pale as alabaster, and pale green eyes that seemed to glow in the dark turned towards her carefully.

“It certainly smells like Estersham.” The Mistress’ eyes closed briefly as if to close off some thought that was uncomfortable. “And if it is, we have a problem.” She turned once more, her face set and eyes now glacial in intensity. “James?”

The woman—the Mistress—spoke, as if to herself. “If it is Estersham, then I will do everything I can to retrieve Hope.” He nodded jerkily and she continued. “But if I need to take those steps, then you know I cannot return. Do you understand that?” Her voice hardened while her eyes glittered in the dim light, piercing in their intensity and for the first time the woman watched as he shrank back slightly from the ferocity. Jemima had never shown any sense of concern in her presence before, and the thought speared her. Not until now.

“Jemima? Please recount what happened here tonight?” the Mistress demanded without turning back.

“Mistress?” The vampire nodded but remained turned away, so Jemima couldn’t gauge her reaction. “Young Hope left some items in the vehicle as she was feeling unwell today. She experienced a headache and a vague sense of something that caused her distress. I stepped out of the manor to retrieve her things and then went to pick some berries to tempt her appetite.” Once more she trembled, knowing her words were being weighed and measured.

“I requested Leah to complete the warding of the house as soon as I was gone, and she said she would. Alonzo was in charging of warding the perimeter once you had departed. I was just returning from the gardens when I saw them, so I hid as best I could. There were many and they surrounded the house.” She stopped, breathing heavily and reaching a shaking hand upwards. The despair she had felt earlier overcame her once more, and she pressed the shaking hand against her mouth, holding onto the sob that wanted to erupt. The pain in her chest bloomed.

“They waited until signalled and then scaled the side of the house and entered through the windows. They shattered the windows as if there were no wards and then entered.” How could they have entered? But she pushed it away. The Mistress would be the one to examine that. “I heard the screams, Mistress. Then I saw them exit with Hope in the middle.” This time Jemima couldn’t control the shudder of fear and revulsion that built within her. Her eyes burnt with unshed tears. This night they had all lost so much. Some had lost everything, friends, lovers. Sons and daughters. It seemed incomprehensible to her that a group of vampires could perpetrate such an inhumane act.

“She was crying, but appeared unhurt from what I could see. They carried her towards the tree line and kept going. I watched as the house burnt, then I came here to alert you.” She swallowed, anxious to make sure they knew and understood. “There was not a sound from within the manor when I attempted to gain entry. I tried to get in, Mistress, but the fire was too hot.” She crumpled as her body succumbed to the memory. Aches and pains she had ignored now made themselves known as did the pain of the burns on her hands and arms. The short man—no vampire, she thought dimly—caught her in his arms.

“Jemima, it is good that you were able to see where they went and let us know that Hope was still alive. Is there any more information that you would share with us?” His voice was soft and compelling.

“Yes, Master Michael. When I reached the gatehouse there was no one alive, but I could smell copper. I think the guards are dead too, but I waited in one room to make sure I was hidden in case they came back. I think they fed and I’m sure they knew where to find the guards.” This alone frightened her.

“Well done, Jemima. Go to my car and get in. We will look after you. You have been good and loyal. We will protect you.” He pushed her slightly forward, and she stumbled her way towards the vehicle.

“Wait! Where is David?” The woman they called the Mistress spun around to pierce Jemima with her gaze, and Jemima trembled, knowing she sought Hope’s brother.

“Miss Verity allowed him to spend the night with a friend. He has six guardians stationed at the house he is staying in, together with his tutor. It is one of the nests we associate with.” Her voice was still unsteady, but she gave the answer quickly, reassuring her Mistress, watching as she nodded slowly.

“Good. James, have Verity contact the parents. Then you will go with Michael and the house defenders to collect him. Take him to the town house and remain inside until I return.” Her voice was flat. Jemima saw he looked ready to argue, his mouth open, but he subsided at a hard look from the Mistress of the nest.

Then the Mistress’ voice called out in the near silence. “You and yours have been my loyal servants for so many years. I took an oath to protect you long ago. I renewed it with marriage and births, over and over. Now, my home and yours have been breached and your child taken from us. The girl child, who will be the hope and salvation of our kind, was ripped from the bosom of our nest. I will repay your loyalty and I will get her back.” The power in the words boomed through Jemima’s system and she fell back against the vehicle. Jemima watched as the woman cast her eyes over the ruins along the path before turning back to them.

A tinge of something lay in Cressida’s - the Mistress, Jemima reminded herself - eyes. Was it pity? Fury? Jemima didn’t know. “You need to get David and Verity to safety now.” With a turn, she dismissed them all. Jemima watched as James bowed deeply and turned towards the car, even as she climbed into the vehicle she had been steered towards.

“James? Even if I have to use force, I will get her back, and I will not leave you unsafe. If I must go, then another will be sent to protect you. You have my word on that.” Her words were hard, but gave Jemima hope that they would survive. With that thought, she watched as the Mistress strode into the guardhouse, a figure in blue alone, heels crunching through the gravel.

* * * *

Hope shivered in the small room, her bare feet cold and sore. She just wanted to go home. She needed to go to the toilet too, but it seemed important to hang on. She didn’t know why, just that something made her know this.

The sickness had come upon her once more during the day, and she could smell the sourness beside the bed where the vomit lay in a congealed and smelly mess. It wasn’t normally like this. But then they had taken her. She wanted to cry for her mother or father. But that seemed senseless.

If only she had known that the nightmare, which spilled over into a daytime sickness, had meant danger. Always in the past, she had known, but something about this time had seemed different. Scarier than ever before. So she hadn’t told anyone. In the past they had smiled and patted her on the head, because it had meant the loss of a pet or something unimportant.

Her thoughts were muddled too. As if it wasn’t as yet a definite outcome. Silent tears dribbled down her face.

Hope didn’t want to sleep, even as drowsiness tried to steal her from her current state of terror. It was an effort to fight it off and she clawed at her hands with blunt nails, fighting the grip of exhaustion. Instead, she thought about what she did know. She knew what they were, just as she had known for some time the reality of what Cressida was. She was a vampire. They were too.

Hope knew Cressida was old and strong, but it didn’t make a lot of sense. How could she know something like that? She couldn’t ask, but somehow that truth was there.

The dreams that came in the night showed her pictures and stories. They always had. They always brought with them answers. For as long as she could remember, Cressida had treated her with care and attention, just as she would a spun glass creation. She had dreamed of Cressida, sometimes scary things and sometimes of the olden days she had loved to read about when she was younger. But there had always been blood too. This time there had been lots of blood. A red tide of death.

It had been a red winding ribbon, reminiscent of the peaceful stream at the back of the manor where she lived with friends and family. Thoughts of her parents and brother swam through her head. Where were they? Were they okay? Would she ever see them again?

Hope brushed her hair from her face and yawned once more, pulling her clothing tighter. The throb of her bladder reminded her she had been there for a long time. Surely they would come for her soon? Daylight couldn’t be too far away surely. If only she could have told Cressida beforehand that this would happen. But her dreams hadn’t come in a way she could understand.

She started at a crash above her head. She concentrated hard. Pushing aside the cobwebs of slumber that seemed to keep pulling at her—she was, after all, twelve, and old enough to be able to stay awake through the night—she listened closely.

Growling and roaring thundered through the house, and Hope once more curled into a ball. This time the fear she had fought washed over her as she squeezed her hands over her ears, trying to keep out the wild sounds from above. Unsuccessfully. Heaven and stars help her if it was another nest coming for her.

Hope looked wildly around seeking something that she could use as a weapon if they came for her, but nothing except the slippers caught her eye. Slipping over to the small cot they had set up in the corner, she inched forward, her cold, bare feet moving over the concrete floor without a sound. Creeping across the floor, she reached for the soft felt footwear and picked them up, holding a trembling hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t make a sound.

Two small white slippers stayed clutched in her trembling fingers. It would do. It would have to do, she reminded herself sternly. Hope moved to just beyond the door, as she had seen them do in movies, and waited.

It seemed like forever until the door burst open and there she was. The Mistress. A different Cressida. One with glowing eyes. Her suit was ripped and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, but it was her eyes, now red and so unlike the blue Hope had become accustomed to, that Hope noticed.

“Come, child. Come with me now.” She held out her hand, and for the first time Hope noticed her fingertips, elongated and white, with flecks of red and the pallor of her skin.

“Where to?” Hope trembled, but knew Cressida wouldn’t hurt her.

“Home, child. But we must be quick. Let me lift you and get us out of here.”

 
She watched the Mistress…the vampire… Hope knew her eyes telegraphed the disquiet she had never felt around her before.

Cressida stepped forward and swooped her up into strong arms. “Don’t be afraid, I am taking you home to your parents and David, but we have to be quick.”

“Cressida?”

“Yes, child?”

“Will I be safe with you too?” The words trembled on the air.

“Yes, you will, Hope. I gave my word to all that I would get you home safely and in one piece. When we are away from here, you may ask questions, but for now, hold on tight. And Hope? Close your eyes, child.”

With that, Cressida moved forward at a pace Hope knew no human could possibly match. She cracked an eye open and saw blurred bodies on the floor and dark red puddles around them, but while the speed made it impossible to see the damage, she knew they no longer lived. The coppery tang in the air did nothing to refute her thoughts. The scary thing was that these were the scenes from her nightmare.

Through the hallways they sped and up the stairs, and finally out of the door. Dawn was coming, the zing of heat that heralded the new day was in the air, and she breathed deeply for the first time since being abducted. A vehicle with darkened windows waited outside and Cressida carried her, faster now, towards it. It was the one she usually travelled in during the day. This driver was unfamiliar to her, though, she thought, while he waited by the open door, his black suit lost against the black of the car. They climbed into the dark interior, drawing the door shut as dawn crested. Cressida hissed and the window between herself and the driver rose. Hope knew the sunlight was fatal to a vampire and Thomas was a human. Just like her.

Cressida reached out to the intercom. “Thomas, take us to the safe house for now and contact Verity and James. Let them know I have Hope.”

The car moved, and Hope could feel the vibrations as it sped along the road. Cressida turned and with a weariness Hope had never before seen on her face said, “Now ask your questions. Once we reach the safe house, you will be sequestered until your guardians come for you.”

While she wanted to know where they were going, she was determined to ask her questions quickly. Something in the way Cressida gazed around and kept her distance told her that this might be the only opportunity.