Sleeping Angel (Ravenwood Series) (14 page)

‘David Harper,’ offered Fiona.

They all turned towards the screen.

‘David who?’ said Caro.

‘Don’t you people read the papers?’ she said. ‘He’s your MP.’ When they looked at her blankly, Fiona tutted loudly. ‘Elected six months ago? That by-election after the bloke with the red face died? He’s all anybody’s talking about in politics at the moment – he’s like a rock star or something. He’s not a minister yet, but he’s already being touted as a possible future leader of the party.’

‘So how come we haven’t heard of him?’

‘Anyone heard of David Cameron or Tony Blair before they got on TV? Harper’s suddenly this go-to quote machine. Plus he’s good-looking and actually seems to have a sense of humour, rare enough in politicians. The press love him.’

‘I’m confused, Fee,’ said April frowning, ‘You’re saying this David Harper might be the King Vamp?’

‘Nah, he’s hardly going to be able to go around kissing babies and having his photo taken for the local paper, is he?’ interjected Caro.

‘No, my point is David Harper’s your local MP, and it shouldn’t be too difficult for you  to see him. Head Girl of the top local school – he’s not going to turn down that photo opportunity is he? And if you can get him talking about politics, maybe you can find something out.’

Gabriel was nodding. ‘Actually, he’d be perfect for the vamps. All politicians need financial backing and political support. They could give him that, then he could use his influence in the vampires’ favour once he’s in power.’

‘All right, he’s on the list,’ said April, scribbling his name. ‘Who else?’

‘Your grandad is well-connected, isn’t he?’ said Caro. ‘He’s got friends in the police and business – why don’t we ask him?’

April felt her stomach clench. It was one thing meeting a local politician or sucking up to the headmaster, but it felt wrong involving her grandad. He had been so supportive these last few months it would feel like she was betraying his trust. Besides – he’d almost certainly dismiss talk of corruption, let alone vampires, as a consequence of her recent experiences.

‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘Dr Tame’s already got to him – talked about me having post-traumatic stress disorder. He’ll never take me seriously. In fact, he’d probably send me to a shrink. But I
will
take advantage of this Head Girl thing, and see what I can find out about Dr. Death.’ 

April saw the excitement on her friends’ faces. For the first time since the disaster of the fire at Sheldon’s house, she felt they were back in the saddle –  moving forward, getting somewhere. And, if she was honest, April liked the fact that people were deferring to her, asking her what to do. Maybe there was something in this Head Girl thing, after all. Now all she had to do was lead them into battle.
Simple,
she thought to herself with a wry smile.

‘Okay Fee, see what you can find out about David Harper’s background,’ she said. ‘Maybe look around other politicians who might be open to an approach from the vamps. Caro, you concentrate on the science part. Speak to the teachers in the school labs, see if you can find out how close the links with Agropharm are, maybe volunteer to help out with research. I’ll go with Tame and see if his mania for publicity will get me into David Harper’s office.’

Caro gave a mock salute. ‘Okay, boss,’ she said, but nobody smiled. They knew what they were facing was deadly serious. The time for joking was over.

‘So what do you want
me
to do?’ said Gabriel smoothing April’s hair back and kissing her neck.

‘I just want you to keep doing that,’ she smiled.

Caro had taken a taxi home and Fiona had disappeared into cyberspace, leaving Gabriel alone with April. She felt the almost forbidden excitement of being here, in her bedroom, with the man she loved. There were definitely some advantages to living in a house with a butler, she thought. Grampa Thomas seemed to regard Stanton as some sort of old-fashioned chaperone; as long as he was in the house, her grandfather was fine about Gabriel coming over to visit. April glanced towards the door, gripped by the uncomfortable feeling that Stanton might be peering in through the keyhole.

‘You know, it’s good to see.’

‘What’s good to see?’ asked April.

‘You, taking charge. I’m proud of you.’

‘I haven’t got much choice, have I?’

‘No, you always have a choice, and yet you’re still doing the right thing. Whether it comes off or not.’

She squinted up at him. ‘You mean, even if it gets me killed?’

‘I will never let anyone hurt you,’ said Gabriel, his eyes fierce.
That’s what my mum said too,
thought April.

‘I know,’ she said softly, ‘But that’s the funny thing; for some reason, the risk of it doesn’t bother me. All I care about is having you back. The one thing I couldn’t stand would be not ever being able to kiss you.’

He grinned. ‘Oh, you can kiss me all right, just not on the lips.’

‘Seriously, you know what I mean.’ April sat up and pushed herself back against the headboard. ‘Listen, Gabe, I didn’t want to say anything in front of the others, but ...’

‘I’m looking terrible?’

She was glad she hadn’t had to say it. Gabriel was fully vamped-up, his hair was sleek, dark and immaculate, his skin flawless, just like a vampire’s should be, but even so, he still looked ill. There were bruised lines under his eyes and while his irises were their usual dark blue, they looked flat, with none of the usual sparkle.

‘It feels like I haven’t slept in days,’ he said quietly. ‘Or rather, whenever I close my eyes ...’

‘Bad dreams?’ she guessed, reaching out to stroke his cheek.

He nodded. ‘And they’re getting worse. It’s almost as if ...’

‘What, honey? You can tell me. You can tell me anything, you know that.’

He sighed heavily. His eyes were focused on some point across the room. ‘It’s like they’re not dreams at all.’

Gabriel’s expression was so bleak April wanted to gather him in her arms.

‘Then what are they?’

‘It’s like they’re memories.’

April swallowed. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear the answer, but she had to ask.

‘Memories of what?’

‘Bad things. Blood, death.’

Her stomach felt as if it was full of glass. She knew what he was suggesting – it was exactly as Jessica had said. He was racked with guilt about her, about Isabelle, about all the deaths he hadn’t been able to prevent and now he was torturing himself over what might have been, wondering about what had happened in the black-outs. Wondering if he had killed and couldn’t remember. Her heart thudded with anxiety.

‘You don’t know they are memories, Gabe,’ she said, hating the note of desperation creeping into her voice.

‘Maybe ...’ he said. ‘Maybe they’re just dreams.’

She put her arms around his neck and pulled him close. ‘They’re just bad dreams,’ she whispered, wishing she truly believed it. ‘Believe me. They’re just bad dreams.’

She ran down the corridor towards the front of the building, hoping that she wasn’t too late.

Bloody Miss bloody Marsh
, she thought as she ran,
why do teachers always have to mess everything up?

Skidding around a corner, April ran straight into a girl coming the other way. They both fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs, the other girl spilling an armful of books across the corridor.

‘Sorry!’ said April, clambering to her feet and heading off towards the main entrance. ‘In a hurry – Head Girl stuff.’

April’s plan had been simple enough: sit quietly through History, get out of class the second the last bell rang, then try to catch the headmaster as he was getting into his car. She hoped to engage Dr Tame in some witty conversation about the school, flattering him about his brilliant notion of using the Head Girl as PR for Ravenwood, then slip in a suggestion about arranging a meeting with “a local politician” in such a way that Tame could claim the idea as his own. But of course, that hadn’t worked.

Miss Marsh, being a new teacher and, presumably, keen to please the new headmaster, had called her back. April had expected the “my door is always open” speech but instead, Miss Marsh had looked slightly awkward and said, ‘Dr Tame has asked me to give you a little more
assistance
in your lessons.’

April had almost forgotten twisting Dr Tame’s arm, by asking for preferential treatment from the teachers. April had nodded, muttered something about needing to do “an important press thing” and sprinted for the door.

But she was too slow. As she entered the final stretch with the main entrance right ahead of her, her path was blocked by a group of girls, led by Chessy, coming out of the ladies toilets.
Damn.

‘Oh, hi, Head Girl,’ Chessy said with a smirk, ‘How are you?’

‘Fine,’ said April, trying not to pant.

‘Been running, have we? No one chasing you, I hope.’

April frowned, sensing that something was wrong. The girls behind Chessy all had those sly smiles that said “we’re in the gang and you’re not”. And they all looked very pleased with themselves.

‘No, no, I’m good,’ said April.

‘That makes me happy,’ said Chessy. ‘Because not everyone’s feeling so good right now, are they girls?’

Chessy’s gaggle of wannabe Faces – all new recruits, April noted – tittered and followed their leader past April and down the corridor. April began to walk towards the entrance, but then stopped.
Damn, damn, damn,
she thought, turning back. Something was wrong, she could feel it – Dr Death would have to wait. Gingerly, April pushed the toilet door open and peered inside.

‘Hello?’ she said, ‘Anyone in here?’

There was no reply and for a moment, April thought that she had been imagining things. But then she the rush of a flushing cistern and a cubicle door opened. At first glance, April barely recognised the girl who emerged.

‘Davina?’

Her hair was sticking out, her lip was cut and bleeding, and although she was trying to hide it, there was a livid bruise spreading on her arm, just below the torn sleeve of her shirt.

‘What the hell happened?’ said April, closing the door.

Davina walked to the sink with as much dignity as she could manage. ‘Just a little disagreement,’ she said, leaning into the mirror and dabbing at her lip with a paper towel.

‘A disagreement?’ repeated April.
More like you’ve been beaten up,
thought April.

‘I thought I could use the ladies in peace – they disagreed.’

With shaking hands Davina opened her bag, almost spilling her make-up into the sink. She selected an eyeliner and tried unsteadily to apply it.

‘’Vina? Are you all right?’ said April, walking up slowly, as if the girl might bolt like a startled horse.

‘Me?’ she said, closing the liner and shoving it into her bag, ‘Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘Come on, don’t be silly. We can talk about this. What the hell is going on here?’

Davina kept staring at herself in the mirror, as if she couldn’t bring herself to look directly at April. ‘I should have thought it was obvious. Clearly there’s been a temporary shift in power.’

April put a hand gently on Davina’s shoulder and she flinched. ‘Come on, let’s talk somewhere else. We don’t want any intrusion now, do we?’

Davina took a ragged breath in, then nodded. ‘If we must.’

April led Davina outside into the playground and sat her down on the bench she and Caro considered theirs. Predictably, the cut on Davina’s lip was already healing and April guessed that the bruise would soon be gone too. But surveying her, April could see that the damage on her face hadn’t all come from the attack. If Gabriel looked like he hadn’t slept in days, Davina looked even worse. The queen of the Faces looked as if she’d just crawled ashore from a shipwreck. Her clothes were crumpled, her hair uncombed and – worst of all – her bag didn’t even match her shoes.

‘You don’t mind me sitting here, do you?’

‘No, no, not at all,’ reassured April. ‘It’s good to have you here.’

‘Thank you,’ said Davina, looking down at the table. ‘It helps to know that not everyone hates me.’

‘Why would anyone hate you, Davina?’ asked April.

She gave an ironic laugh. ‘That’s sweet, but we both know why. I think the word is
schadenfreude
.’ Davina smiled as she saw April’s raised eyebrows. ‘Surprised I know such a
big
word? I believe it’s defined as “taking pleasure from someone’s misfortune”, or “being happy when an enemy gets their just deserts” – something like that, anyway. Let’s be frank, there have always been plenty of people who wanted to see me fall on my arse.’

‘But why?’ asked April.

Davina’s face changed in an instant, flipping from self-pity to boiling anger. ‘That stupid little brother of mine!’ she hissed. ‘God, how could he have been so bloody idiotic?’ She glanced towards April. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t be saying this in front of you, should I? God knows you’ve reason enough to hate him.’