Sleeping Angel (Ravenwood Series)

by Mia James

  ‘What are you doing here?’ demanded Chessy, glaring across at Davina. ‘Do I need to teach you another lesson?’

  ‘You can try,’ said Davina, stepping forward. ‘But I’m not sure it would be such an easy job this time.’

  Then she smiled and nodded towards Ling.

  ‘Or maybe you should ask your new girlfriend to try. I mean, after all, little Ling owes Chessy a favour, doesn’t she?’

  ‘You shut your mouth!’ hissed Chessy.

  Ling looked uncertain, her eyes flicking across to Simon.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I suppose it was rather sweet really,’ said Davina, a smirk on her mouth. ‘I mean, that nasty boy Calvin forced himself onto you, so your bestest friend in all the world got him back for you.’

  ‘I’m warning you,’ said Chessy in a low voice. April could see that she had curled her hands into claws. What was Davina playing at? She was supposed to be finding out where the King was – where Gabriel was – and all she seemed to be doing was settling old scores.

  ‘Oh, come on, Chess, I thought you’d have wanted the whole world to know that it was you who punished that boy. Though it sounds to me like he deserved it.’

  Ling turned to Chessy, her eyes wide.

  ‘It was you? You killed Calvin?’

  Chessy took two steps towards Davina, but Davina stood her ground.

  ‘Hey now, remember the rules,’ she said, ‘although you weren’t exactly following them that night, were you? Dumping the dead boy on April’s doorstep. Tut-tut, Chess. I can’t imagine that pleased the Big Boss.’

  ‘You shut up!’ said Ling, ‘What do you know? You’re not one of us anymore!’

  ‘Oh, it’s “us” now is it?’ said Davina. ‘Has Chess promised to initiate you into this glorious life of ours?’

  A smile crept onto Ling’s face. ‘Yes,’ she said, looking over at Chessy with something akin to adoration. ‘Tonight.’

  ‘No!’ shouted Simon, grabbing Ling’s hand and spinning her around. ‘You can’t, Ling!’

  ‘Why not?’ she replied, yanking herself free. ‘I’m not like you – I don’t need all these weaklings around me.’ She looked over at Caro. ‘Why don’t you just go back to her – you know you want to.’

  ‘Ling, don’t be stupid,’ said Simon uncertainly.

  ‘I’ve seen the way you look at her. Go on – I don’t need you anymore. I won’t need anyone anymore, not after tonight.’

  ‘Ling, you can’t,’ said April. ‘Think about what you’re doing.’

  ‘I know exactly what I’m doing, Bleeder,’ said Ling furiously. ‘You think I want to be like you? You think I want to be a goody-goody, a Head Girl? You’re all dead already and you don’t even know it.’

  She laughed and stepped towards Davina. ‘Well, if Chessy did kill that bastard, I’m glad. It shows she cares about me.’

  ‘It’s not you she cares about, Ling,’ said Davina, looking towards Chessy. ‘Is it, sweetie? She didn’t do it for you.’

  Chessy stepped forward and backhanded Davina across the face, sending her sprawling.

  April moved to help her, but Caro put a hand on her arm, shaking her head slightly. Davina was on her knees, a string of blood running from the corner of her mouth.

  ‘Now that’s not a good look, is it, darling?’ crowed Chessy, and the surrounding crowd of Suckers let out a twitter of nervous laughter.

  ‘I think it’s about time you stopped talking about these things as if they concerned you,’ continued Chessy. ‘I thought we’d made it clear that you and your little family are no longer a part of the plan. Oh,’ she said, putting a hand to her mouth, ‘I forgot. You don’t have a family anymore.’

  April watched as Davina slowly swivelled her head to look up at her adversary, her eyes narrowed, her lips drawn back in a snarl. She could only remember seeing such hate once before – on the face of Marcus Brent, shortly before he tried to tear her limb from limb. This isn’t going to end well, thought April. She stepped between Davina and Chessy, her hands held up.

  ‘Okay, that’s enough,’ she said. ‘We were just going, anyway.’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Chessy, ‘You’re not going anywhere.’

  She casually raised a finger and immediately April and Caro were grabbed, their arms twisted up behind them.

  ‘Him too,’ said Chessy, nodding at Simon.

  ‘Hey!’ protested Simon as he was seized. ‘I’m on your side.’

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ said Chessy. ‘Hold him. I think he might wriggle.’

  She turned to Ling and extended her hand. ‘Come to me,’ she said, ‘It’s time.’

  ‘No, Ling!’ cried Simon, ‘You don’t have to do this! Please God, no!’

  But Ling looking as if she were in a trance, stared rapturously into Chessy’s eyes. The vampire gently, tenderly, lifted Ling’s thin arm.

  ‘You have to want this, you know that?’ she whispered.

  Ling nodded slowly. ‘I want it, please.’

  Without warning, Chessy bit into Ling’s arm, like a snake striking its prey.

  ‘No!’ yelled April as she watched Ling’s eyes grow huge, her face registering terror and fear. If she had been expecting her turning to be ethereal and beautiful, she was wrong – dead wrong. It was brutal, violent, horrific. Ling’s body bucked, her legs jerking uselessly as Chessy held her in a vice-like grip. April struggled to get to the girl, to help her, but with a vampire on each arm, it was like struggling against quicksand.

  Ling’s mouth was open now, as if frozen in a scream, her eyelids fluttering, fingers jerking.

  ‘Stop,’ said Davina, quietly. ‘You’re killing her.’

  Immediately Chessy opened her jaws and dropped Ling. The girl fell to the floor like a bag of sand. Chessy pushed her face inches from Davina’s. ‘I know I’m killing her!’ said Chessy, dark blood running from the corners of her mouth. ‘That’s the idea. I have no intention of turning that stupid little airhead. We don’t need runts like her any more.’

  ‘Help her!’ screamed Caro, looking down at Ling. The girl had flopped on the ground, her body seized by spasms. ‘Why are you all standing there? Someone help her!’

  Chessy laughed, a dark gurgling laugh. ‘No one can help her now,’ she said, moving over to April. ‘But you know what? She tasted good.’

  ‘You’re disgusting,’ hissed Caro.

  Chessy smiled again, a grotesque, twisted thing. ‘Aren’t I, though? All right, put them in the vault.’

  The vault? thought April, as they were dragged backwards, She couldn’t mean the catacombs? She was filled with a black terror at the idea of being shut in that horrific tomb, the very place she had seen Layla’s body. She began to struggle, but Chessy snapped her fingers.

  ‘Not her,’ she said. ‘Give her to me.’

  Chessy twisted April’s arm up her back and pushed her down a path; they were leaving the party behind and April knew she was in deadly danger.

  ‘Where are you taking me?’ cried April, trying to struggle, but Chessy was shockingly strong.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I’m just going to give you a little history lesson.’

  She pushed April through a narrow gap in the trees and down a steep track. The ground underfoot was slippery and April stumbled, the stones in the path cutting into her knees. ‘Get up, Head Girl’ ordered Chessy impatiently, yanking her up. ‘Don’t make me drag you by your hair.’

  She pushed her out onto a wider path, then shoved April back against the cold stone of a low tomb. The sound from the party was just a dull throb now, and April was horribly aware that she was out here in the dark alone with a creature she had just watched sucking blood. April could see Chessy’s outline, but it was too dark to see her expression. She could guess, though.

  ‘You do know we’ll be missed, don’t you?’ said April, trying to sound brave, defiant. ‘My mother knows we’re here.’

  ‘No, she doesn’t,’ said Chessy. ‘No one knows you�
��re here. What responsible parent would allow their daughter to come to a party in a graveyard?’

  ‘Since when was my mother ever responsible? You’ll never get away with this,’ April said, knowing how weak it sounded.

  ‘We already have,’ said Chessy, moving closer. ‘Don’t you know what this little gathering is for? It’s our coming-out party. We’re going overground. It’s all happening at Ravenwood tonight.’

  April swallowed. Gabriel – was that where he was?

  ‘What’s happening at Ravenwood?’

  ‘Don’t insult my intelligence,’ hissed Chessy. ‘I know your father was investigating Ravenwood, trying to find out about how we’re exploiting the poor students, oh boo-hoo. But it’s bigger than that, Head Girl. All those people you saw at the Crichton, all those politicians, all those captains of industry, they are all gathered at the school, meeting the King. We are taking over – tonight.’

  April felt her stomach knot. She had left it too late. ‘The King is at Ravenwood?’

  Chessy laughed. ‘You still don’t see how hopeless you are, do you? You really think you can stop us. You thought we didn’t know about you and your friends trying to worm your way in? We’re vampires, April, not morons. Davina was all like “leave her alone, we can’t kill her, not after her father’s been killed, it will draw too much attention”. So we left you. But Davina’s not top dog anymore. And now none of that matters anyway.’

  ‘Someone will stop you,’ said April, hoping she sounded more certain than she felt. She began to inch along the tomb, spreading her hands, feeling for the edge. Maybe if she could just get around the corner she could get away. God

  ‘Stop us? What, you mean the Guardians?’ sneered Chessy. ‘Miss Holden and her stupid herbs? You? Let me show you what you’re dealing with.’

  Chessy grabbed April by the throat and lifted her. She’s strong. She dragged April across the path, then pushed her to her knees.

  ‘Look at that,’ Chessy whispered in April’s ear. ‘Ah, isn’t it beautiful?’

  April looked. The cloud had parted and the clear moon was shining down between the trees, throwing its light onto a stone sculpture. It was an angel, but not like any of the other winged figures in the cemetery. This one was lying on a stone bed, apparently in a gentle slumber.

  ‘The Sleeping Angel?’ said April. ‘Yes, it’s ...’

  ‘It’s revolting,’ Chessy spat. ‘Mawkish, sentimental and crass.’

  April frowned. ‘So if you hate it so much, why have you brought me here?’

  ‘Because that is my grave, April Dunne.’

  ‘Your ... what?’

  April turned to glance up at Chessy. She was staring at the tomb, almost as if she were gazing at a loved one, a smile on her face. And it all came flooding back, what the caretaker had said – the one April had seen that day she had run away from the cemetery tour – he had said it was the grave of a girl called Francesca, hadn’t he?

  ‘You?’

  ‘Me.’

  ‘But you’re ...’

  ‘Walking around? Well spotted – no wonder they made you Head Girl.’

  April twisted around, looking at Chessy with wonder. She had no reason to disbelieve what she said, however crazy it sounded.

  ‘Then who are – who were you?’

  ‘Francesca Mariana Bryne,’ she said with a slight bow. ‘Born in County Antrim, brought to London by my parents when the potatoes failed, turned out on the street at eight years old, when my father died of consumption and my mother could not afford to feed five children.’

  ‘How did you survive?’

  ‘Any way I could,’ she said. ‘Stealing, lying, cheating and eventually taking men into the alleyways – you could say not much changed when I turned.’

  ‘But I still don’t understand – how is there a monument to you? I mean, if you died but—.’

  ‘I died twice – you should try it.’ Chessy’s voice became wistful, as if she was an old lady reminiscing about her scandalous youth. Which April supposed she was, in a way. ‘I wasn’t one of those filthy whores hanging around the street corners making barely enough money for a drink of gin. I had wealthy clients; they came to my rooms, beautiful rooms in St. James’s. Politicians, gentlemen. But one of those fine upstanding Lords and sirs gave me the pox. Syphilis, Head Girl. Kills you slowly. But he was good: he said he’d take care of me. Not to cure me, no. He meant commissioning this monstrosity. He said it was to my memory – and to all fallen women – a monument to his guilt.’

  Despite herself, despite the danger she was in, April was fascinated by Chessy’s story. ‘So what happened?’

  ‘Oh, call me picky, but I wasn’t content to just die and become an upper-class bleeding-heart symbol of goodness and hypocrisy. I staggered from my bed to the Bear’s Head, a tavern on the South Bank. We all knew they were there, the “Dark Ones” – we called them “Lifers” then. No one used the word vampires, it was all a bit too ... foreign. So I struck a deal with them; turn me and I’d provide…well, certain assets they were interested in. Which is how I managed to dodge being pushed into this tomb. As you might imagine, there was no problem providing an alternative body – and his Lordship was far too delicate to check.’

  ‘So they buried someone else?’ asked April, looking over at the tomb.

  Chessy nodded, the moon shining down on her. ‘I came to the funeral, of course. Then I followed the Lord home and killed his wife.’

  She said it almost casually, like she was adding an amusing footnote. Chessy walked across to the sculpture, running her hand over the stone, its contours emphasised by the moonlight. ‘For years, I loathed this thing. But now, I see it differently. Don’t you think it’s become apt, appropriate for our new world? We’re all sleeping angels, aren’t we? And tonight, we will wake.’

  ‘You’re no angel,’ said April in a low voice, ‘You’re a monster.’

  Chessy turned and darted towards her. ‘Yes, I am,’ she said gleefully, pushing her face close to April’s. ‘We all are, even your precious Gabriel.’

  April felt a spasm of fear again: what exactly did Chessy know about Gabriel? And more to the point, how?

  ‘Gabriel is different,’ said April, but Chessy laughed, high-pitched and edgy.

  ‘You’re so naïve. He is worse than any of us – he’s a killing machine. That’s why he was so useful to the King.’

  April knew she shouldn’t listen to this creature. She knew Chessy was just toying with her, playing on her fears, yet even so she had to ask. ‘Who is the King?’

  Chessy shook her head disbelievingly. ‘You really don’t know? After all this time?’

  Chessy threw her head back and laughed, mocking her, goading her, enjoying April’s confusion and discomfort. ‘Why don’t I show you?’ she said, ‘Give me your phone.’

  She reached into April’s coat pocket and grabbed her mobile, opening the “Media” folder.

  ‘Now, let’s see,’ she said. ‘What would a teenage girl take pictures of? Her friends?’ Chessy tapped one open – a snap of Fiona and Caro arm in arm. ‘Aah,’ pouted Chessy. ‘Sweet. Would she have a picture of her boyfriend? Uh-uh, not in this case.’ She put a finger to her lips. ‘Now who else?’

  Perhaps it was fear or helplessness, or just the fact that Chessy seemed to enjoy belittling her, but suddenly April was filled with a blind rage.

  ‘Shut UP!’ she yelled, launching herself at Chessy in a rugby tackle, throwing her on top of the Sleeping Angel. Not having any other weapon to hand, she grabbed the phone dropped in the struggle and smacked it into Chessy’s mouth, splitting her lip. Chessy looked up in surprise, then began to giggle, running her tongue into the blood.

  ‘Is that the best you can do?’

  Effortlessly, Chessy pushed April off, flipping her over and onto her back. Before she had time to move, Chessy had seized April’s hair and dragged her up to her knees.

  ‘Do you think this is what it was like for your father?’ said Chessy,
‘Do you think he was on his knees? Begging for mercy?’

  April tried to scream at her, but Chessy clamped her hand over her face. ‘Shh ...’ she said, ‘Don’t bother asking – there is no mercy. Not for him, not for you. Not for any of you.’

  With inhuman strength, Chessy lifted April up and slammed her against a tree, knocking the air out of her lungs. April snatched in a breath, knowing she had to move, had to get out of this monster’s reach. But she was too slow. Chessy’s hand shot out and grabbed April by the throat, pinning her back against the trunk.

  ‘Do you want to know why we killed him?’ she said.

  April frowned, her head was swimming, ‘My ... my dad?’

  ‘Yes, April, your nosy father. I bet you think we killed him because he was sniffing around Ravenwood, don’t you?’ She barked out a laugh, full of malice. ‘No, it was personal.’

  April grabbed hold of Chessy’s hand, trying to pry her fingers off, but it was like trying to pull oak roots from the frozen ground. Chessy began to squeeze.

  ‘We should have turned him,’ said the vampire. ‘That would have been a hoot, wouldn’t it? Then maybe he could have killed you all, one by one as you came home. That’s how I would have done it – a nice solution to a lot of problems.’

  A cloud crossed Chessy’s face, as if she was annoyed about something. ‘But that wasn’t in his plan.’

  ‘Whose plan?’ croaked April, ‘The King’s?’

  Even now, staring death in the face, April wanted to know, wanted answers.

  ‘Of course the King, you little fool. Who else would have dared? He wanted to take care of him personally. Quite Shakespearian actually.’

  April struggled to grasp what Chessy was saying, but she was cutting off her oxygen, making her thoughts sluggish. Shakespeare? Was he the King? No. That was stupid. In a detached part of her mind, April knew she had to get away soon, or she would die.

  ‘Help,’ she croaked and Chessy actually laughed, amused by the weakling’s pathetic attempts to escape.

  ‘Who do you think is going to help you?’ she crowed. ‘Gabriel? He’s ours, April. He always has been. And when you’re dead, he’s going to be mine.’