Gabriella Poole: Blood Ties (Darke Academy)

force, so that she almost lost her balance, tipping forward.

She heard a door open and close. Footsteps. A voice …

‘Cassie? Are you OK?’ Patrick’s tone was concerned.

She leaped to her feet, fists clenched. OK? Why did he keep asking her that? Of course she was OK! His constant flapping around her

was really beginning to grate. He should stay out of it, if he knew what’s good for him.

No! What made her even think that? Patrick was only trying to be thoughtful; he had done so much for her.

Estelle’s whisper was like the caress of a serpent. And he could do so much more, my dear .

Patrick looked nervous under Cassie’s steady, feverish stare. Yes. Estelle was right. A good friend like Patrick would always give of

himself. She could rely on Patrick. He was strong, young, confident. Full of life. Perfect.

‘Cassie?’

She was just so damn hungry. Her lips stretched into a rictus smile. ‘I’m fine.’

Don’t talk. Let him come closer. I can smell him …

Patrick took a pace back, and she thought she saw him shiver. ‘Stop messing about, Cassie. Your dinner’s getting cold.’

You seem warm enough to me.

‘OK, I’m sorry. I’ll leave you in peace.’ He was turning away. ‘Come back when you’re ready.’

‘STOP!’

She launched herself from the step, almost flew after him. Seizing his collar, she yanked him back, spinning him around. Her fingers

found his jaw, gripping him, tugging him towards her. He tried to pull away, but he didn’t stand a chance. Not a chance. Since the ritual, she

was stronger than she’d ever been. More than strong enough to overpower this … mortal. Cassie laughed out loud.

Patrick’s eyes were full of terror, and his panicked breath was in her face. She could smell him again: oh, the life of him! Her lips were

pulled back when she caught sight of a figure beyond the glass panel of the front door. For an instant, her heart seemed to stop, and she

stiffened and growled a challenge. A face snarled back at her, feral and mad, like a rabid animal. And then, with a sickening jolt to her gut,

she knew. It wasn’t some monster trying to break into the house. It was her own reflection.

‘Oh my God!’ She let go of Patrick so fast he crumpled to the floor. She stumbled back and away from him.

His terrified eyes were locked on her, the bright blue dilated almost to black. She expected that. But she didn’t expect the words that fell

from his mouth.

‘Oh God, Cassie. Not you. Not you!’

What?

For half a second she stood, hands over her mouth, staring at Patrick. Then she turned on her heel and fled. She didn’t slow down as

she took the stairs two at a time, crashed into her room, furiously grabbed a chair and jammed it under the handle. There. That was as safe

as it got. As he got.

Cassie slumped to the floor, exhausted. It could have been worse, she told herself, as her heartbeat slowed. So much worse.

Who was she trying to kid? She’d lost control. She could have hurt Patrick. Killed him even. Jamming her fists into her mouth, Cassie bit

down until she drew blood. A few more days, that was all. A few days and she’d be back at the Academy. Back with its mysterious principal,

Sir Alric Darke. He must be able to help her fight this. She’d see no one until then …

But Cassandra, my sweet, I must FEED!

The plaintive, angry voice echoed and bounced around her skull, which felt so light and empty. She was dizzy with hunger. But she’d

control it. It was just a few days. Only a matter of time …

That’s right! In the echo-chamber of her head, Estelle sounded vindictive and starved, but triumphant. Oh yes, Cassandra, my dearest

girl! Only a matter of time …

CHAPTER ONE

The carousel jolted into life as baggage spilled on to it. Cassie stood penned in the crush, overwhelmed with the sheer noise and bustle of

JFK, desperate to spot her tatty suitcase so she could get the hell out of there. A tall, sweating businessman on one side, a mouthy old

lady on the other, both of them shoving and manoeuvring, hanging like vultures over the turning baggage belt. Neither seemed like prime

candidates to feed upon, but beggars couldn’t be choosers …

Oh, no. Stop that! Cassie wanted to cry but she didn’t have the energy. Tucked tightly into her window seat, avoiding looking at the

passenger next to her, she’d seen the dawn come up behind the Statue of Liberty as the plane had circled in, but she hadn’t cared. Hadn’t

cared about the symbolism of it – sunrise on her own New World. Hadn’t cared about the beautiful symmetry and skyline of the city. She’d

just wanted the plane to land so she could draw a clean breath of air, a breath that hadn’t been round everyone’s lungs already so that it