Thicker Than Blood

by Shalini Boland

  ‘So will this labelling of the crates work?’ Isobel said.

  ‘I’m pretty sure it will,’ Ben said. ‘Just make sure you write it in big letters.’

  ‘I’m nervous,’ Isobel said. ‘I have horrible images of them opening my crate on the airfield. The pain of daylight is not something I ever wish to experience again.’

  ‘We’ll be fine, Isobel,’ Alexandre said.

  ‘Perhaps you should stay here, Isobel’ Leonora said. ‘I’m sure we can manage.’

  ‘No. Of course I’m coming with you. I just want to be sure we’ll arrive safely.’

  ‘So,’ Ben said. ‘You’ll all be travelling as priceless sculptures.’

  ‘Perfect,’ Leonora replied and gave Ben a rare smile.

  He basked in its unexpected glow, but his happiness was short-lived.

  ‘And don’t worry, Ben,’ Freddie said. ‘We will keep you informed of everything.’

  ‘What do you mean, ‘keep me informed’?’

  ‘Just what I said,’ Freddie replied, a puzzled expression on his face.

  Alexandre sensed trouble. ‘Ben, you do understand you are staying here with Esther.’

  ‘You are not doing this to me again,’ Ben said.

  ‘Ben, we’re not doing anything to you. We’ve talked about this. You have no passport.’

  ‘You might have talked about it, but I didn’t.’

  ‘The passport issue is one we cannot avoid.’

  ‘Then I’ll travel in a packing crate.’

  ‘You’ll die in a packing crate.’

  ‘But she’s my sister!’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry,’ Isobel said, reaching her hand out to his face.

  He jerked his head away in anger. ‘You all treat me like I’m some stupid kid whose opinion doesn’t matter. You went off to London without me and now you’re going to Turkey without me. It’s not fair. It’s not …’

  ‘Ben, Ben,’ Isobel interrupted. ‘It’s not as though we want to leave you behind. It’s just that you cannot board an aeroplane if you have no passport.’

  ‘Why can’t I just … get one?’

  ‘There is not enough time.’

  ‘You could drive me to London. Alex, we could go on your bike.’

  ‘If I could, I would. But it’s not as simple as that. You are only fourteen. You’re a minor. We cannot manage all the paperwork in time.’

  Ben stormed out of the basement, slamming the door behind him.

  ‘He’s just worried,’ Isobel said. ‘He’s not angry with us, he’s angry at the situation.’

  Alexandre rubbed his sister’s shoulder and they smiled sadly at each other. Jacques and Freddie stood there awkwardly and Leonora seemed oblivious, tapping away on her small blue laptop.

  Back in London, Alexandre had filled them in on his conversation with Blythe. They had agreed there was no other option than to go to Cappadocia. Alexandre had offered to go alone but they had shouted him down.

  ‘We’re all going and that’s final,’ Freddie had said.

  Now it was two days later and they were in the Marchwood basement preparing for their imminent departure. Alexandre’s eyes rested on the back of Leonora’s head. Her hair was pinned up in a loose bun, tendrils escaping in wisps across her white neck. Even from the back she looked similar to Madison, but her bearing was so much stiffer, more controlled. Maddy was infinitely more relaxed. But they were both as strong-willed as each other.

  ‘How is everything coming along?’ he called out to her.

  ‘Fine. I’m just printing out Morris’ ticket. I’ll be done in a few minutes.’

  ‘Play something for us, Isobel,’ Jacques said. ‘You never seem to play anything these days. I miss it.’

  ‘You want me to play?’ she arched an eyebrow at her twin.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But my playing always used to irritate you.’

  ‘I know I gave that impression,’ Jacques said. ‘But I wasn’t entirely serious when I made those comments. I’m your brother, it’s my job to annoy you.’ He grinned.

  ‘Yes, Belle,’ Alexandre said. ‘Play something.’

  ‘I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you play,’ Freddie said.

  ‘There is no time. We have too much to do,’ Isobel replied.

  ‘There is time,’ Alexandre said. ‘We have two hours before we leave for the airport.’

  ‘Well with all this encouragement, how can I refuse?’ Isobel crossed the room, sat at the tapestried stool and lifted the polished piano lid. She closed her eyes and took a breath before opening them again and bringing her slim fingers down over the keys.

  Alexandre heard the notes as if listening from far away. It was one of Chopin’s Nocturnes. As a mortal, Isobel had always struggled with this particular piece, but now the notes floated from her fingers and Alexandre became immersed in them, as if the music was swirling inside him and he was a part of the melody. Memories of Paris flooded back to him so quickly they almost knocked him from his feet – the drawing room at home, Maman’s laughter, Papa frowning and concentrating on the music, Jacques clowning around and he, Alexandre, longing to be gone, bored and wishing he was anywhere else. If only he had savoured those rare times. He should have clung to those moments, not brushed them away like stale crumbs. Now they were over, just images in his head, memories of that vivid life, a life so close he could almost touch it. Almost…

  Chapter Eleven

  Cappadocia, 574 AD

  *

  Over the next few months, the rumours of invasion grew stronger. It was all anyone talked about, not that Aelia ever got the chance to speak to anybody. But when she was in populated areas, the atmosphere was alive with the chatter and buzz of preoccupied people. There was an urgent energy in the air, an energy made up of purpose and excitement and fear. People were preparing for the invasion, but they were not discussing weapons or defences – they were talking about digging.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Aelia said to a young slave girl, whose attention was being held by a performing dog in the market place. The little creature was selecting coins according to which emperor’s face they bore. Of course it was all a trick and anyone who attempted to outguess the dog would invariably lose his money.

  The girl turned to Aelia, a look of panic on her face.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, relaxing. ‘You gave me a fright. You sounded like my mistress.’ She looked Aelia up and down and turned back to watch the entertainment.

  ‘Sorry if I startled you,’ Aelia said. ‘I was just wondering what’s going on.’

  The girl reluctantly turned around again, forming an insolent question mark with her eyebrows.

  ‘The digging …’ Aelia continued.

  ‘What digging?

  ‘Everyone is talking about digging up the earth.’

  ‘You don’t know about the barbarians coming? Are you simple?’

  ‘No.’ Aelia said, biting her tongue at the insult. ‘I’ve heard about the invasion, of course I have. But why is everyone digging?’

  ‘I can’t believe you don’t know.’ The slave girl smirked. ‘I’ll tell you, but you’ll have to make it worth my while.’

  ‘I’ll make it worth your while,’ Aelia said, suddenly feeling angry with this sly-looking girl. ‘How about this - tell me what you know and I’ll make sure your mistress doesn’t hear how you spent the morning idling about watching cheap entertainment, instead of getting on with your work.’

  The girl scowled. ‘Alright. No need to be like that. But how do I know you’re not a barbarian spy from the east?’

  ‘Do I look like a barbarian spy from the east?’

  The girl sighed. ‘Alright, alright.’

  ‘The digging?’ Aelia prompted.

  ‘We’re all to move down there,’ the girl said.

  ‘Move where?’

  ‘Where d’you think? Down there, below the ground. They’re moving all the villages underground. We’re going to live down there so the invaders can’t find us and slaught
er us in our beds. Apparently, they’re the most vicious race in the world. They keep their women in chains and eat babies as a delicacy.’

  ‘They eat babies?’ Aelia gasped.

  The girl nodded. ‘The mistress says living underground will be fun. Fun for her maybe, swanning around with all her fancy friends. Won’t be much fun for the rest of us, lugging all their stuff miles under the ground. Cooped up for weeks on end until the barbarians have gone. And what if they don’t go? What if they stay forever? We’ll be trapped. It’s a stupid plan if you ask me.’

  Aelia had to agree with the girl. It sounded like a ridiculous plan. Did that mean her old village would be moving under the ground too?

  The crowd broke into raucous laughter as the dog selected the correct coin yet again and another punter lost his money.

  ‘Have you heard of Selmea, the village?’ Aelia asked.

  ‘Yeah, of course. Everyone’s heard of Selmea.’

  ‘Are they also moving underground?’

  ‘They were the ones who came up with the idea in the first place.’

  ‘Really?’

  The slave girl glanced around and then leaned closer to Aelia. ‘My mistress heard that Selmea had some travellers from the east who warned them about the barbarians coming. They said we’ve got to get the underground villages built as quickly as possible or we’ll all be slaughtered.’

  ‘Why don’t we stay and fight them?’ Aelia asked.

  ‘Apparently the capital won’t arm us and there aren’t enough men to fight since the plague took most of them.’

  ‘When will the invaders get here?’

  ‘Oh, it won’t be for ages yet,’ she said airily. ‘They’re hundreds of miles away to the east, slaughtering and conquering as they go. At the rate they’re moving, it’ll be a few years till they get here. That is if no one stops them first.’

  Aelia thought the whole thing sounded dubious. Why would you build an underground city because of a possible enemy that might never come?

  ‘My mistress says it’s just an excuse. A few timid old councillors are being over-cautious and think it’s a good idea to build the city as a precaution. And it keeps the people busy in work and out of trouble. She thinks it’s all great fun. But then everything’s fun for her. She doesn’t have to do any of the work …’

  ‘So where’s the entrance to this city?’ Aelia asked.

  ‘It’s a secret. We won’t find out until nearer the time. The workers are being lowered down through ventilation shafts for now.

  ‘Musa!’

  Aelia saw a hairy arm thrust its way through the crowd, its hand gripping the slave girl’s scrawny shoulder. She stared up to see a male slave with irritation in his eyes.

  ‘Musa, you’ll get a whipping if you don’t hurry up.’

  The girl rolled her eyes at Aelia and let herself be led away. Aelia stared after her, pondering on what she had heard. Widow Maleina had said rumours of the barbarians were nonsense, but how could she possibly know that? Whatever the real truth was, she hoped her family was going to be safe.

  Chapter Twelve

  Present Day

  *

  The shard of plate felt smooth and slippery. She worried she might lose her grip on it, that it might slip and slice her own hand instead of cutting into the girl’s flesh. Maddy had decided to wait behind the door. She would have to aim for the girl’s face because she wasn’t sure the shard was sharp enough to pierce clothing. She would go for her cheek – that would be soft enough. Maddy touched her own cheek and wondered what it would feel like to have someone rip it apart. But she couldn’t afford to think like that, couldn’t be sentimental. The girl was holding her here against her will. If she got hurt it would be her own fault.

  She had been waiting by the door for hours now and she crouched down to give her legs a break from standing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something scuttle under the bed. It was either a very small rodent or a massive spider. Maddy decided she’d rather not know which. She gave a shudder and then suddenly heard the unmistakable rattle of the lock. Here was her chance. She only hoped it was the girl and not some larger, more powerful captor. As the door opened, Maddy stood and took a step forward so that she was just at the edge of the open door. Her heart raced and she held her breath. Adjusting the pottery shard in her hand, she raised her arm up high.

  Maddy saw the smooth thick braid at the back of the girl’s head and as the girl turned to face her, Maddy brought her arm down swiftly, aiming directly at her cheek. There was no way she could miss. But the girl didn’t even register surprise. She just stepped neatly backwards out of harm’s way. How? It was as though she’d moved lightning fast, but in slow motion. Then realisation hit Maddy as she remembered where she’d seen that type of movement before - at home. Alexandre and the others could move in exactly the same way.

  The girl was a vampire.

  Maddy couldn’t believe she hadn’t realised earlier. Of course she was a vampire; no human being was that beautiful. The girl had clear hazel eyes and perfect porcelain skin. Her braided hair was a thick and lustrous chestnut colour and she had the aura of a film star. Maddy must really have been half-asleep last time not to have noticed all that. Her shoulders slumped as she understood there would be no escape. That it was hopeless. The girl smirked. She actually smirked at her. Maddy’s disappointment was replaced with blazing anger.

  ‘Why am I here?’ she yelled. ‘Who are you? Yeah, laugh it up – the stupid human’s far too slow to catch out the vamp girl. So? What’s going on?’

  The girl held out her hand for the piece of plate. Maddy grudgingly passed it over. In her other hand, the girl held a plate piled high with something which smelled delicious. She dumped it on the bed before striding into the bathroom to gather up the other pieces of plate.

  ‘This place is disgusting, you know,’ Maddy said. ‘And I’ve been starving all day. How long am I supposed to stay here?’

  ‘I can’t tell you anything,’ the girl said softly. ‘So there’s no point asking.’

  ‘So you do talk then.’

  There was that smirk again.

  ‘Why am I here?’

  The girl shook her head and walked past Maddy to the door.

  ‘Hey!’ Maddy tried to grab her arm. The girl evaded her grasp and thrust her face up close to Maddy’s.

  ‘I wouldn’t try that again if I were you. You know what I can do. Don’t be stupid. I don’t want to hurt you.’

  ‘So what do you want?’

  The girl gave her a strange look and left, locking the door behind her. Maddy sank onto the bed with a sigh.

  ‘Well that went well. Not.’

  So … the girl was a vampire. She was a vampire. What was going on? Could Winston Blythe, that slimy solicitor, have something to do with this? Of course he could. But then again, maybe it was nothing to do with him. Maybe … Oh, what was the point in all this guessing. She didn’t know. She really had no clue why she was being held here, other than it must be something to do with Alex and the others. She hoped they were okay, that they weren’t in any danger. And Ben! Please God let him be alright. What if they’d abducted him too? What if he was locked up in one of these hideous rooms? If they’d laid a finger on him she’d … She’d what? What could she possibly do against one of them? Nothing.

  She had to get some information from somewhere. This ‘not knowing’ was sending her loopy. She had to calm down, but being in this concrete cell wasn’t helping. It felt as though the walls were closing in on her, squeezing the air from her lungs. Her vision blurred. Maddy swung her legs over the edge of the bed and let her head hang down between her knees. She was having a minor panic attack, that was all. If she just breathed slowly she’d be fine. In through her nose and out through her mouth. The floor was tilting. No. She couldn’t give into this stupid panic, that wouldn’t help at all.

  Gradually, the giddiness passed and she lay down on her side, curling into herself. She’d been in bad situations bef
ore and she’d managed to come out of all of them. She’d come out of this one too. The horrible musty smell of the sheet made her want to cry.

  Maddy closed her eyes and pretended she was back home at Marchwood House, lying on her huge bed, the French windows open and an evening summer breeze ruffling the curtains. Darkness had just fallen and Alexandre was on his way to see her, to wrap her in his arms and kiss her lips. She sighed, her breathing calm, her mind no longer racing through dark tunnels. She would have this dream again, but next time it would be real.

  *

  In Gloucestershire, the weather had turned miserable. Iron grey clouds took up residence in the sky, sporadically shaking out vicious drops of sleet. The wind blew from the east and the temperature hadn’t risen above two degrees.

  The basement already felt neglected and sad without them here, but it smelt of them – a faint scent of vanilla. It made him feel hungry. Ben bounced down onto a cream chaise, swung his feet up and lay back against the firm upholstery. He still had his shoes on. Good thing Isobel wasn’t here, she’d go mad. Maddy and Leonora didn’t get so stressed about stuff like that.

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket – no new calls or messages. He’d ring Morris soon to see if they’d landed in Turkey yet. Ben’s eye rested on the TV remote. He picked it up and hopped through five or six channels before turning it off again. The sudden silence made him nervous for some reason.

  It would be Christmas soon; next week in fact. She’d better be home by then. They couldn’t have another terrible Christmas like last year. God, this was useless. He was useless. What could he do to help? Surely there must be something … What was the name of the hotel they were staying in? It was close to the underground city, he knew that much. Maybe he could look it up online. He glanced around the room.

  Leonora’s dark blue laptop sat on her writing desk in the corner. Ben wandered across, lifted the lid and pressed the power button. A green light blinked and the machine began to hum. Ben settled himself in the carved oak swivel chair and gently spun himself around while he waited for the laptop to fire up.