Darkness Falls

by Mia James

Jessica frowned and April quickly added, ‘That came out wrong. I mean there’s a lot of stuff on magic. I guess if you wanted more normal customers you’d have to stock golf books or something on knitting.’

  ‘Yes, but what fun would that be?’

  Just then something caught her eye and she crossed to a wall where there was a picture of someone she recognised. It was a photograph of Alix Graves.

  ‘Ah, you’ve spotted our celebrity customer,’ said the woman. ‘Alix used to come in from time to time. I think he was just looking for titles for his songs.’

  April looked at Jessica for a moment. She was pretty, maybe in her early twenties, her long brown hair pulled up into an untidy bun and a sheer cardigan over her dress – one of those boho-chic looks that seem completely thrown together but are really hard to pull off. She was cool and sexy and confident. April wished she could just sit in the corner of her own bookshop sipping lattes and reading. What a wonderful life to lead. No worries about vampires or destiny or anything. Just restock the books about fairies and keep the hobnobs coming. April felt a wave of jealousy.

  ‘Is there anything you were particularly after?’ asked Jessica. ‘You don’t …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well you don’t look like my usual customers, put it that way. It takes all sorts, of course, but you don’t look as if you’ve got a natural interest in the occult.’

  April chuckled.

  ‘No, you’re right. But … well, I’ve got a project.’

  ‘I see. What’s it about?’

  April looked about her to check the shop was empty.

  ‘Vampires.’

  Jessica nodded. Clearly not an unusual choice of subject matter in this shop.

  ‘What sort?’

  ‘Are there different sorts?’

  Jessica smiled ruefully. ‘Step this way,’ she said, leading April to the back of the shop. ‘This is the vampire section.’

  ‘Wow,’ said April. There were books on Eastern European vampires, Hammer Horror vampires, vampires as representations of addiction or sexuality, psychic vampires, people who believe themselves to be vampires, genuine blood-drinking serial killers and endless fiction – almost all set in American small towns. April could only shake her head and laugh.

  ‘I went to the library to look for books on vampires and I could only find about three.’

  ‘That’s why we’ve been here since 1892. There are always people who believe in these things.’

  ‘Don’t you?’

  Jessica paused, holding April’s gaze.

  ‘I believe in things I’ve seen with my own eyes, which does rule out a lot of what I stock. In here there is inevitably a lot of nonsense and wishful thinking, but there is a lot of truth too. And it’s that truth that keeps me running this shop, otherwise you’re right, I might as well be selling knitting patterns.’

  ‘Well, the truth is what I’m looking for,’ said April. ‘Actually I need to find a specific book, called the Albus Libre.’

  Jessica’s expression hardened.

  ‘You’ve heard of it, then?’

  ‘Of course I’ve heard of it,’ said Jessica, all her initial friendliness gone. ‘Now if you’re just going to waste my time, I think I’d better ask you to leave.’ She pointed towards the door. ‘It’s that way.’

  April frowned. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, but I assure you I’m serious about finding this book and this shop is the only lead I have.’

  The woman shook her head in irritation, taking April’s arm and leading her towards the exit.

  ‘There are plenty of other bookshops in London, you know. Why don’t you go and play your silly schoolgirl pranks on them?’ She opened the door and gestured towards the street. April could see she had angered this woman but had no idea why.

  ‘Please,’ she said desperately, ‘this isn’t a joke. I don’t know what I’ve said, but really, it’s so important to me to find that book.’

  The woman crossed her arms.

  ‘Oh yes? And why is that?’ she said sceptically.

  ‘Because my friend is going to die if I don’t.’

  Jessica looked at April for a long moment, then closed the door again.

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘Tell me why you really want that book.’

  April hesitated. She needed information badly and here was a woman who knew this world inside out, but she was confronted with the same dilemma which had dogged her search all along: could she trust her?

  The truth was she had to start taking chances otherwise she was going to get nowhere. And more than anything she needed allies.

  ‘I need the book because … sorry, it all sounds insane.’

  Jessica gave a half smile. ‘Look at where you are. I can’t imagine it’s going to be any crazier than half the things I’ve heard within these walls.’

  ‘Okay, how about this?’ said April. ‘My father has been murdered, my school is overrun by real-life vampires and my boyfriend is going to die of a supernatural virus unless I find this book.’

  April could feel her eyes filling with tears again.

  God, I’ve got to stop doing this, she thought, some bloody Fury I am.

  ‘Come on,’ said Jessica, putting a hand on April’s shoulder and leading her to the velvet sofa. ‘Come and sit down.’

  She handed April a tissue.

  ‘So this is about Highgate? The murdered journalist was your father?’

  ‘You know about that?’

  ‘Please – some of my customers spend half their lives wandering around that cemetery. It’s all anyone has been talking about for months. I’m sorry about your dad,’ she added softly. ‘It can’t have been easy to lose him.’

  April shook her head. She hesitated for a moment, but for some reason had an intuition that Jessica was the sort of woman who would understand.

  ‘It’s almost as if he hasn’t gone, you know? Like he’s still just sitting in the next room. Maybe it’s because I want that to be the case, but he still feels real to me.’

  Jessica tilted her head sympathetically.

  ‘I know a bit about that. Love is a powerful thing. Sometimes when you lose someone, they stay with you. Sometimes it can feel real, physical. Sometimes it might be.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  She smiled. ‘Most religions believe in some form of life after death and I think that’s because the power of the human spirit to endure is much, much stronger than anyone really understands. Maybe the poets and the swamis are right, and you do live on after death.’

  April didn’t know what to make of Jessica, but she liked the way she spoke, the way she put things. It was reassuring, somehow. Or maybe this was how everyone who came into the shop spoke.

  ‘And what about the vampires?’

  ‘Doesn’t this sound mad to you? Someone coming in and saying their school is full of vampires?’

  ‘Well you’re clearly not a natural believer in anything supernatural – to be honest, I doubt you even recycle. So if someone like you comes in and tells me their neighbourhood is full of vampires, I’m inclined to take it seriously. You don’t strike me as the hysterical type. And you say your boyfriend is in danger? The same way your father was?’

  ‘No. Yes … Sort of. I think it’s related. But I know that book is the only thing which will save him.’

  Jessica looked at April for a long moment.

  ‘He must be someone very special.’

  ‘He is,’ said April, looking at the floor.

  ‘Then I should find a way to help you, shouldn’t I?’

  She went over to her desk and unlocked it. She held up a card.

  ‘This will get you where you need to go.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘It’s a library card. To the best library of its kind in the world. You’ll see what I mean.’ She wrote down a name and address on a pad and tore the sheet of paper off.

  ‘In the Victoria and Albert museum?’

  Jessica nodde
d.

  ‘Queen Victoria had a particular interest in this subject, from the moment Albert died. The museum houses her library, and this card will get you in. Ask for the special collection, everything you need should be there.’

  ‘Thank you, thank you so much,’ said April, looking at the card. ‘But … are you sure? I mean, you have no idea who I am – why would you trust me?’

  Jessica smiled.

  ‘When you’ve been around as long as me, you get a sense for these things.’ The smile faded from her lips. ‘But be aware, April, this isn’t something you can take lightly. This is deadly serious. If that book exists and if it has the knowledge you need, then it isn’t information you want to be sharing with anyone else, do you understand me?’

  April nodded. ‘Of course, I just want to find this spell called the Drag—’

  Jessica held up a hand.

  ‘I don’t want to know, it’s better that way. It’s your business and the risks are yours.’

  April looked at her.

  ‘Risks?’

  ‘If what you’re telling me is true and the information is life or death to you, then there’s a very good chance there are others who will feel the same way.’

  ‘So if the book is there, why haven’t the vampires broken in and grabbed it before now?’

  ‘Vampires cannot enter the library,’ said Jessica.

  ‘What, do they have garlic hanging from the roof?’

  Jessica smiled and shook her head. ‘More straightforward than that. You’ll see. But be careful, okay? And promise me you’ll get what you need and only that? The last thing we need is real spells flying around the internet.’

  April nodded. ‘I promise,’ she said as Jessica walked her to the door.

  ‘One visit, look for what you need, then bring the card straight back. Are we clear?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said April, ‘and thank you again. You don’t know what this means to me.’

  ‘I think I might. Anyway, good luck. I hope you find what you’re looking for. I never did.’

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘So what do you think?’

  April and Caro were dodging between backpackers and day trippers on the escalator at Monument, heading for the District line.

  ‘What do I think? I think all tourists should be given a piece of paper at passport control with the words “Stand on the right” written in big letters,’ said Caro with irritation. ‘Is it too much to ask? Everyone else is standing on that side for a reason, you idiots!’

  April was glad she had back-pedalled on her policy of keeping Caro out of the investigation for the visit to the V&A. Partly because no one knew this conspiracy stuff better than Caro, but mostly because Caro’s inability to take anything seriously took the pressure off April a little. She knew time was running out for Gabriel and that she needed all the help she could get, whatever the risks.

  ‘No, I mean all this about Queen Victoria?’ said April. ‘I mean, could she really have collected a huge library about the occult and paranormal stuff?’

  ‘Ah well, now you’ve got me on home turf,’ said Caro. ‘This is a classic conspiracy. It was well known that Queen Vic was into all sorts of alternative medicine. She made homeopathy popular. She was also rumoured to be getting tarot readings and holding séances in the palace, all to contact Prince Albert. Gold-plated Ouija board in there, probably.’

  ‘But where’s the conspiracy?’ said April. ‘She was grief-stricken and ahead of her time, that’s all.’

  ‘Ah, well it goes deeper than that. The conspiracy angle is that Victoria’s interest in the supernatural wasn’t just based on grief and hope. It was like she knew – not just believed – it had some foundation. There’s all sorts of theories linking the Royal Family with the Freemasons, suggestions that there was something odd going on with their East European roots, but it seems that the Windsors – or the Saxe-Coburg Gothas, back then – have always been aware of the vamps.’

  They ran across the platform and jumped onto a train as the doors swished closed. As they sat down, April’s mind vaguely recalled something from her last history lesson.

  ‘Weren’t the Royal Family connected with Jack the Ripper somehow, too?’

  ‘One of her grandsons was a suspect. Didn’t you see that Johnny Depp film? They argued the Ripper was the queen’s surgeon. Whoever he was, he had some knowledge of anatomy; he managed to remove his victim’s internal organs whole.’ Caro held up her hands as if she were holding a beating heart. April held up a hand to stop her.

  ‘All right, you can spare me the details.’

  ‘Anyway, whether the Ripper was royalty or not, the theory goes that Queen Victoria put her foot down – she wasn’t having that sort of nonsense upsetting her subjects – and ol’ Jack suddenly disappeared.’

  ‘Wow,’ said April. ‘If Miss Holden put all that in her history lessons I’d have spent less time gazing at Benjamin.’

  ‘You’ve been gazing at Benjamin?’ said Caro. ‘What, in a romantic way? Are you mental – he’s a Sucker!’

  ‘So’s Gabriel, remember?’

  ‘Yeah, but Gabe’s an outsider, a lone wolf. Ben’s in the inner circle of Suckers. I thought all that stuff at the party was just an act to get in with them – wasn’t it? Anything else, it’d be like sleeping with the enemy.’

  ‘I was only looking at him, Caro, when Gabriel wasn’t available. And anyway, he’s not like that. Really, he’s much nicer when you get to know him.’

  Caro raised her eyebrows.

  ‘I know all the glossy magazines say “make him jealous”, but I think you’re playing with fire there. I thought it was all sorted out between you and Gabriel, anyway.’

  ‘It is. I think. Anyway, let’s talk about something else,’ said April uncomfortably. She wasn’t happy talking about this with Caro, at least not until she could work it all out in her own mind first. Gabriel’s erratic boiling-hot, icy-cold mood swings were starting to unsettle her, especially when he didn’t seem to want to recover. But she wasn’t ready to face her fear that his behaviour could be undermining feelings she had been so sure of in her hospital bed only a few weeks ago.

  ‘Okay then,’ said Caro, lowering her voice and glancing at the other people in the carriage to make sure they weren’t overheard. ‘That stuff about vampires not appearing in photos? I delegated it to Fiona.’

  ‘Caro! I—’

  ‘Hold your horses! I thought it made sense since Fee’s a computer whizz and she’ll be able to figure it out better than I can. Anyway, she gave me some sort of techno-babble answer. It was something about how the vampires are sort of dead, but they’re also super-alive so they give out a magnetic wave. It was something to do with bees dying, too.’

  ‘Come on, Caro, focus. I want to understand this. It might be important.’

  Caro took a deep breath.

  ‘Okay … apparently honeybees are hugely sensitive to the earth’s magnetic waves: if you put a magnet next to a beehive, they build it as a cylinder instead of as a honeycomb.’

  April made a ‘whooshing’ gesture above her head. ‘That’s fascinating. What’s it got to do with vampires?’

  ‘Exactly. This is why I delegated. Fee said all this to me and it was like she was talking Swahili.’

  ‘I thought you were studying biology.’

  ‘Plants I understand. Well, their molecular structure anyway. I’ve killed every pot plant we’ve ever had in the house. Anyway, Fee’s theory is that vamps let off these magnetic waves … and not only do they confuse bees, they also disrupt cameras, like when you see news footage of some office full of computer screens – and the camera can’t capture the screens properly. It’s the same idea. But the interesting thing is how Ravenwood is wrapped up in all this.’

  They had arrived at South Kensington and jumped off the train.

  ‘Ravenwood?’ April prompted as they got on the escalator.

  Caro smiled. ‘Ah yes. Remember how all the teachers here are ludicrous
ly over-qualified, they’re all from Harvard and MIT? Fiona did a search on Mr Langdon, head of science. Before he came here he was some mega-bucks consultant in Silicon Valley. He’s a world leader in the field of digital imagery.’

  ‘So? Why would they want him here?’

  ‘Well our Mr Langdon has just done a deal with one of the big Japanese camera firms. He’s come up with a new sensor for cameras that captures things which were previously invisible. In the press release, he said he owed the idea to one of his students at Ravenwood.’

  ‘Things that were invisible …? You think he means vampires?’

  ‘Maybe. It would make sense if one of the reasons the vamps are recruiting all these big brains was for specific purposes, wouldn’t it? Remember all that stuff Miss Holden was saying about how they used to be hidden, but now they’re coming out of the shadows? If they can have their photos taken and appear on film, they can do all sorts of things. Become politicians, celebrities, everything. Even Davina could get married to some billionaire and appear in Hello!’

  ‘God.’

  They clunked through the barriers and up the steps, crossing onto Exhibition Road and walking past the Natural History Museum, its roof lined with carvings of weird and exotic animals, the high arched windows framed by curly seaside-rock pillars of stone. They walked up the wide steps of the V&A and in through the entrance, taking a minute to admire the entrance hall before exploring some of the dark, polished corridors, peering into the glass cabinets, while their shoes squeaked on the stone floors. ‘Reminds me of Ravenwood,’ whispered April. ‘Like someone’s going to jump out at any moment.’

  ‘Shhh! Here it is,’ said Caro.

  The library had heavy double doors with polished brass handles. Through the glass panels in the door, they could see the library itself.

  ‘It’s like looking into the past isn’t it?’ said Caro. The shelves ran down two walls and were double height with a gallery running around the top. The centre of the room held reading desks. Everything was dark wood. No one would have to remind you to be quiet in there. They walked inside with trepidation; it was intimidating and April suppsed that was the point. There were only two people inside the big room – an old man in half-moon spectacles hunched over a large book and a very thin woman with white hair who immediately approached them waving her hands.