Gabriella Poole - Blood Ties (Darke Academy)

turned away and the shimmering faded. ‘You’re not worth it.’

She said it quite softly, to herself. But she had a feeling he heard her anyway.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Ranjit was late.

Cassie checked her watch for the twentieth time. Isabella had finally decided to go for a walk to clear her head. Their room was still and

silent as Cassie paced its length.

She was due to meet with the Elders in thirty-five minutes and she’d have liked a bit of time to talk it over with Ranjit first, settle her

nerves. At least she wasn’t fretting too much over her impending confrontation; she was too anxious about where Ranjit was now. She’d

tried to get hold of him to fill him in on what had happened with Jake, but he wasn’t answering his phone, and wasn’t in his room.

It wasn’t like him to break his word. Had something happened? She felt a little chill of fear. The way things had been going lately …

She glanced at her watch again, at the minutes ticking inexorably by. Maybe she’d done something, said something? They’d had the

argument about how to deal with Jake yesterday, but Ranjit had moved on from that, he’d been fine about it. Besides, now that issue had

kind of been taken care of for them. And the way he’d kissed her, there can’t have been any confusion about where they stood.

But he was such a puzzle. And kind of inscrutable sometimes. Could he have found out something about her power, something that was

delaying him? In which case, he could at least phone. All that talk of being there for her, but where the hell was he then, the one time she

really needed him? Cassie felt the stirrings of anger.

Perhaps your hold on him isn’t tight enough, my dear. What did I tell you … ?

‘Not now, Estelle,’ Cassie said through gritted teeth.

Her fury was dissipated by a rap at the door. Cassie gasped in relief. All right, now she could forgive and forget: he’d made it, and she

didn’t care that he was late. She flung the door open.

Blinking, Cassie stared. Instead of Ranjit, she was facing the squat, brutish porter Marat. The one who’d taken such delight in holding her

down while Sir Alric injected her with the Tears. And she had a feeling his pleasure hadn’t been in saving her bacon.

Marat jerked his head and stood back.

‘Now? I have to come now?’ Cassie looked in panic at her watch.

Marat nodded silently and there seemed no point arguing. With a last regretful look at her room, Cassie tugged on her coat, closed the

door and followed him. Ranjit would have to catch up. He probably knew where they were going.

Which reminded her. ‘Where are we going?’

No response.

‘Well, is it far?’

The porter shook his head slowly.

‘You’re a mine of information.’

As she followed Marat out of the Academy’s doors and on to Fifth Avenue, a blast of cold air chilled her to the core.

Ranjit, she thought, please come on …

Snow was falling again, but it wasn’t the thick, soft flakes that at least left the city looking beautiful. This was the driving half-sleet,

turning to slush almost as soon as it fell. The wind was biting. Cassie didn’t want to hang about; she climbed into the black car as soon as

Marat opened the door, huddling into Isabella’s vicuna jersey for comfort.

Marat wasn’t kidding about not far. He drove her south on Fifth Avenue and past Central Park, but only as far as 42nd Street. Staring

nervously out of the car window, Cassie wished desperately she could be out there among the lights and the hurrying crowds – even the

whirling snow – if it meant she could avoid facing the Elders alone.

Alone. She shouldn’t be alone.

‘You have a right to a Supporter,’ Ranjit had said. ‘I’m not going to let you go alone …’

But so far, he had. He’d left her to it and she was on her own. Fine. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d coped by herself. It was fine.

If only it didn’t terrify her so much.

Marat had stopped the car. Cassie didn’t want him to step out and open the door, she didn’t want to leave the car’s comforting leather-

scented warmth, but there was no choice. Through the wild snow flurries and the skeletal tree branches she made out a majestic marble

facade, pillared and arched and floodlit: the New York Public Library. Things were getting stranger by the minute. Marat led her between

two massive marble lions, and as she nervously followed, she heard him speak for the first time.

‘Patience and Fortitude,’ he muttered, and gave a barking laugh she didn’t like at all.

Was that what he reckoned she needed? No, she decided: he was talking about the lions. She glanced nervously back at them. They

seemed solid and almost friendly despite their size. Anyway, she’d sooner face two giant cats than what waited for her inside …