29

CASSIE’S HEAD SPUN. IT COULDN’T BE TRUE.

“I don’t believe you—” she protested, but Tremain cut her off.

“There’s no time.” He dragged her across the square to where an old blue Fiat sat parked on the corner and shoved her into the passenger seat before crossing to the driver’s side.

Cassie clutched the seat, reeling. Tremain piled inside and started the engine, taking off with a squeal of tires on the wet street. He careened through the square, glancing anxiously in the rearview mirror. “Put your belt on,” he ordered. Cassie numbly did as instructed as they turned onto the main road and sped out of the village, winding into the hills.

Tremain’s jaw set with determination as he peered through the dark rain. Cassie shuddered. This man, who had done nothing but belittle and criticize her, who was bound deeply in the School of Night, he couldn’t be her father.

“How badly are you hurt?” Tremain glanced over at her. “Are you bleeding?”

Cassie slowly raised a hand to her head. It came away sticky and wet. “Just a little,” she whispered. “My ribs . . . I think something’s broken.”

“You’ll have to make it back to Oxford,” Tremain said, not unkindly. “We can’t stop. I don’t know who else they sent.”

“Who was he?” Cassie’s voice grew stronger. “What the hell just happened to me?”

“What happened is you couldn’t just leave things be.” Tremain kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead. They were speeding far above the limit, driving almost blind through the dark. “What were you doing? They’ve been following you since Gravestone, damnit. In the city I can protect you, but out here there’s nothing to save you. You were lucky I intercepted Henry’s orders.”

“Orders for what?” Cassie gulped. “Who was that man? Why did he hurt me?”

“Because you’re dangerous!” Tremain exploded. “Digging into old files, asking questions. I covered for you as long as I could, but once he knew you were visiting Rose, there was no stopping him.”

Cassie inhaled in a gasp. “You know about Rose?”

Tremain shot her a scornful look. “We know everything, Cassie. Richard had a soft spot for Rose, and he made a bargain that she’d be left in peace. She’s too far gone to be a threat, rambling about things that nobody can make sense of. Except someone like you.” He wrenched on the wheel again, flying around a narrow bend.

Cassie grabbed hold of the window rail. “Stop,” she protested, grabbing his arm.

Tremain shook her off. “There’s no time.”

“I don’t care,” she yelled. “I need you to stop the car right now!”

Tremain scowled, but he hit the brakes, pulling off into a low ditch at the side of the road.

There was silence for a moment while Cassie caught her breath. Then she turned to him. “You said you’re my father.” His face was dark in the shadows, but she searched it regardless for any sign of recognition or resemblance. “I don’t believe you. It can’t be true.”

Tremain let out a sigh, refusing to meet her gaze. “I didn’t want you to know. It’s safer for you this way.”

“I don’t understand.” Cassie swallowed. “You’ve been . . . Ever since I started, you’ve done nothing but be a complete asshole to me. Trying to make me drop out, forcing me to be in a room with Sebastian. How could you? If you say you’re trying to protect me—”

“Raleigh isn’t safe, damnit!” Tremain turned with a scowl. “You think I wanted this? When I realized who you were, who your mother was . . . I’ve been trying to get you away from there. To get you out while you still can.”

Cassie shook her head, still clinging to the possibility that this was a trick, some kind of game to fool her into trusting him. “Why not just tell me?”

“If anyone knew, it would all be over. Don’t you see?” Tremain demanded harshly. “It’s about family. The society, it’s in the bloodlines. Passed from generation to generation. If they knew you were mine, they’d never let you go.” He inhaled a ragged breath. “It may not have seemed like it, but I was trying to protect you. And now it’s too late. They think you’re a threat. They sent him to deal with you, and he won’t be the last.” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel in frustration.

But Cassie didn’t care about her attacker. She was too focused on the other thing he’d said. His words sank in with a slow wave of understanding. “I’m one of them?” she asked, feeling the truth snake through her system, a black poison in her veins. “This thing, this darkness, it’s in me too?”

“I’m sorry,” Tremain replied, his voice gruff. “That’s why you can’t stay. Right now you’re dormant; it’s all just potential. But if you go through with the rising and they make you a member . . . There’s no going back.” He turned to her, his eyes bleak with an empty resignation. “The things you’ll do, the choices you’ll make . . . You can never take it back. Never.”

They drove the rest of the way to Oxford in silence. Cassie slumped, numb, her mind whirling with questions she couldn’t ask Tremain. She didn’t want to know what his answers would be.

She was one of them. The knowledge echoed through her with a terrible finality. Like Hugo and Olivia. She had that in her, in her blood. And Tremain . . . He was part of her too. The father she’d always wondered about was nothing but a weak, corrupted man, bound in service to an ancient evil.

Cassie hadn’t realized until then the secret dreams she’d been clinging to: that finding her father would somehow provide the family she’d been missing all those years. That knowing him would fill the emptiness, quiet the aching place in her heart that had been broken ever since her mother died. That somewhere was a normal, loving family who would open up their arms and welcome her into their fold, and she would leave her broken, restless life behind. She knew it was naive of her, the hopeful fairy tales of a woman without a home, but now, faced with the stark reality for the first time, Cassie felt those dreams finally die.

She must have fallen asleep with the mantra of disappointment in her mind, because when Cassie blinked her eyes open, she found the sky pale with dawn. They were turning off the motorway, on the outskirts of Oxford, suburban subdivisions passing by outside the windows.

“How do you feel?” Tremain’s voice was more impatient than concerned.

Cassie shifted, feeling the pain in her stomach and ribs. “Okay, I think,” she lied.

“I’ll drop you at the college. Collect your passport and anything you need. I’ll take you to the airport. We’ll figure out where you’ll go from here.”

Leave? Cassie shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Tremain told her harshly. “Didn’t you listen to a single word I said? They know you’re after them. That man they sent is only the beginning.”

“No, you’re not listening to me,” Cassie insisted. “I’m not running. Somebody has to stop them.”

Tremain let out a bark of laughter. “Stop them?” he turned to her, his forehead creased in disbelief. “What the hell are you thinking? Do you know who they are, what they’ve done? You can’t end this, nobody can.”

“Have you even tried?” Cassie challenged. “Or do you just bow and scrape to the Mandevilles, doing their dirty work?” Something struck her for the first time, and she gaped at him, her fear rising. “Do you feed too? Do you hurt people like they do?”

“No!” Tremain ground out. Then he paused. “Not for a long time,” he admitted. “Not since I was a student too. I saw the damage we do. I swore I would never do it again.”

Cassie thought back, the pieces finally clicking into place. “My mother,” she breathed. “You fed on her.”

Tremain stared straight out of the windshield, gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white. “I made mistakes,” he said, low. “I’ve regretted them my whole life.”

Cassie felt bile rise in her throat. Of course, why hadn’t she seen? Her mother’s depression, the mood swings, the suicide . . . She’d noticed the similarity with Evie’s behavior, but she hadn’t considered for a moment that Margaret’s instability might have been from the same wicked cause. The School of Night. Tremain. It was all because of him. Margaret may not have shown the signs of it at Raleigh, but she hadn’t escaped without damage.

“You know she’s dead.” Cassie’s voice rang with bitter loathing. “She opened her wrists when I was fourteen. I found her body.”

Tremain flinched. “I didn’t know then. I didn’t know anything until you arrived here. The missing files, the break-in . . . I put it all together.” He turned, pausing at a red light. “I promise you, Cassie, everything I’ve done since then has been to protect you.” He looked at her urgently, pleading with his gaze. “That’s why you can’t stay. Don’t you see? Either they discover you’re mine, or they kill you first. Either way, you’ll never be safe, not at Raleigh. And I couldn’t live with myself if . . .” He broke off, his voice ragged.

“If I became another of your guilty secrets.” Cassie clenched her fists. “Another victim of your selfish crimes.”

“It’s not like that,” Tremain tried to protest, but Cassie could see the spires of the college up ahead. She couldn’t take another moment in close proximity to this man, not after everything he’d done.

“I can’t talk about this anymore, not right now.” She grabbed the door handle, pulling it open. “I need time to think.”

“Wait,” Tremain cried, but Cassie scrambled out of the car. She slammed the door behind her and started down the street, wincing at every step as she wove through the students and tourists who filled the sidewalks. Her stomach throbbed, and she felt dizzy and nauseated. Her mother was dead, her own life was at risk, and worst of all, she was part of it now. The School of Night, the darkness, the conspiracies. It was in her blood, tying her down. Tremain was wrong when he said she should run. She couldn’t escape this, not even if she tried.

Cassie turned through the Raleigh gates, her mind still spinning. She’d barely been away a single day, but her brain was flooded with too much new information: Rose, Tremain, the rising—it all blurred together in a terrible tangle, until all she could think of was collapsing in her bed and sleeping for days.

Her cell phone sounded, sharp through her haze. When she checked the screen, she saw Charlie’s name—and a dozen missed calls.

“I’m fine,” she answered before he could demand an explanation. “I’m back in Oxford. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

“That’s not why I called.” Charlie’s voice was heavy.

Cassie felt a tremor of fear. “What is it?”

“Rutledge died last night.”

Cassie froze in the middle of the damp courtyard. “What happened?”

“They’re saying it was a mugging. He got beaten in the street, and his wallet went missing.” Charlie sounded grim. “He died of a heart attack in the end.”

“Oh God,” Cassie breathed. Guilt crashed around her. This was her fault. She’d gone looking for Rose; she’d forced Rutledge to talk. He’d been scared, he’d known they’d find out, but she’d wanted answers all the same.

No, a voice reminded her. This was the society. Their blood, their crimes. And, like Tremain had said, they wouldn’t stop until everyone was silenced. Cassie felt a flash of fear. “Are you okay?” she asked Charlie. “You need to be careful now, more than ever. If they know about him, they have to know you—”

“Never mind me. What did you find out there?”

“Nothing,” Cassie lied, glancing around. She was alone on the path, the nearest people students in the distance, heading to the library. She turned away, dropping her voice as she continued. “Rose was too far gone. She didn’t make any sense.”

“Damnit,” Charlie cursed. “Look, you lie low. Be careful. We’ll find a way to meet tomorrow.”

“No,” Cassie objected quickly. “They’ll be watching you. Let’s just leave it for now. I’ll call you when I can get away.”

Charlie sighed. “It’s on us, you know.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “Stay safe.” She hung up, sick with guilt. Rutledge had saved her mother, done his best to keep her safe. And now he was gone, and she was the one to blame.

She looked around anxiously, then hurried down the path to her rooms.

Alone in the apartment, she could finally catch her breath. Exhaustion hit her, heavy in every aching limb. Cassie went to her room, stripping off her damp clothes and pulling on a sweatshirt and pajamas. She crawled under the covers, but sleep didn’t come. All she could think about were the people she’d endangered, the lives she’d risked.

Elliot had made a narrow escape, but Charlie could be next. Cassie shivered, picturing Rose’s vacant stare and the way she’d gazed out, unseeing, at the Welsh hills. Death wasn’t the worst the School of Night could inflict on a person. She snuggled deeper under the covers. Maybe Tremain was right. Maybe she should leave Oxford—if not for her sake, then for Charlie’s. But then he’d be left here alone. He couldn’t just up and disappear like her, he had family here, a home. She’d dragged him into this, too deep, and now be would be left to pay the price.

Rose. Evie. Margaret. Rutledge. The names blurred, but one face stayed steady in her mind as Cassie finally fell into oblivion. Matthew Tremain. Her father.

Cassie woke with a hand clasped over her mouth. “Don’t scream.” Hugo’s voice came from just inches away.

She panicked, going rigid.

“I mean it; I’m not here to hurt you,” Hugo insisted, his voice soothing. She blinked, making out his silhouette looming above her in the dark. “I’ll let you go, you just have to promise not to scream. Do you agree?”

Shaking, Cassie gave a jerking nod. Slowly, Hugo let her go. In an instant, she brought her elbow hard across his face, making contact with his cheekbone in a crack. He swore, stumbling backward. She lunged for the lamp by the bed, flooding the room in a low golden light.

“I told you, I won’t hurt you!” Hugo struggled upright, breathing hard.

“And I don’t believe a word you say.” Cassie pulled her legs up against her chest, looking frantically around for a weapon or escape. Hugo was blocking the way to the door, rubbing his cheek, his hair disheveled and his shirt askew. “What do you want? How did you get in here?”

“I told you, we need to talk. You’ve been avoiding me.” Hugo stepped closer, his face suddenly creasing with concern. “Christ, what happened to you? Are you hurt?”

Cassie stared at him in disbelief. “What happened . . . ?” she echoed. “You know what happened. Your grandfather sent someone after me, to shut me up for good. Have you decided to do your own dirty work for a change?”

Hugo blinked. “No, I swear, I had no idea . . .” He moved toward her, but Cassie jerked back again. “I promise,” Hugo said again, spreading his hands in front of him. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help!”

“I’ve heard that too many times today,” Cassie said sharply, but she faltered, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.

“Then let me show you.” Hugo swallowed, looking anxious. “Let me show you what this is all about. I swear I won’t hurt you.”

Cassie slowly exhaled. She didn’t trust him, she couldn’t, but she wanted answers. “Okay,” she said weakly. “We’ll talk.” She ignored his hand and pulled herself onto her feet, but a wave of dizziness washed over her and she stumbled hard.

In an instant, Hugo was at her side, holding her up. “God, Cassie, what did they do?”

“I was lucky.” Cassie met his eyes. “The porter, Rutledge, they killed him.”

Hugo frowned. “I heard that was a heart attack.”

“Sure,” Cassie said, tired. “And Evie committed suicide. Don’t tell me you don’t know how this goes.”

Hugo swallowed. Up close, she could see his skin was pale, shadows under his eyes. “I was so worried about you,” he murmured, guiding her out of the room. She felt his body pressed against hers and forgot for a moment the angry accusations whirling in her mind. Was this the reason she felt such a connection to him, because deep down, they were the same? Cassie tried to push the discomforting thought aside.

Hugo helped her into the living room and turned on the lights. Sebastian was sprawled on the couch, unconscious.

“What . . . ?” Cassie’s whole body tensed. She turned to Hugo. “Why did you—?”

“You want to know what this is about,” he said, his dark eyes silently pleading with her. “There are things I can’t explain. But I can show you, if you’ll let me.”

Cassie took a breath, and then another. She looked from Sebastian’s slumped body to Hugo and back. This was it, the moment she’d been waiting for. Ever since that night in the maze. She sank into a seat opposite the couch. “Explain.”

Hugo took a short breath. “We’ve always been this way,” he began. He didn’t sit, but instead started pacing, slowly. Uncertain. “At least, I have. They told me it’s in the family. When Raleigh founded the college, he and his friends made a pact. A bargain. They wanted knowledge, more than anything else. Pursuit of a higher purpose. It wasn’t meant to be—” He broke off. “It wasn’t meant to be like this. But they called up something, some dark power. It gave them that knowledge, but at a price. Power, it isn’t created, you see, it can only be taken.” Hugo met her gaze, conflicted. “Taken from somebody else.”

Cassie swallowed. “Go on,” she told him quietly, glancing at Sebastian.

“The School of Night kept their secret hidden,” Hugo continued, raking one hand through his hair. Cassie wondered if he’d been rehearsing this speech. “They passed it down through the ages. There’s a ritual, a ceremony of sorts that happens every generation, reconnecting with the original darkness. A way for each new member to pledge his loyalty and renew his gift.” Hugo’s voice twisted on the last word, and he paused before continuing, “If you don’t take part, your powers fade, you become a shadow of yourself. So to prepare, you have to build your strength. You have to feed.”

“And give an offering,” Cassie said, quiet.

Hugo looked up. “How did you . . . ?” He stopped. “Yes,” he admitted. “An offering. Each member has to bring someone, a willing sacrifice. The darkness uses them as a vessel, for the new member to feed. The power comes from the consent, the risk the chosen take to become one of us.”

“You can create new members?” Cassie struggled to follow. “I thought this was hereditary.”

“It is.” Hugo nodded. “But there’s a promise that if you’re strong enough you can become a member, even if you weren’t born into it. But nobody . . . Nobody has ever survived the ceremony.”

“That’s what they offered Rose,” Cassie realized. “They told her she could become one of them.”

Hugo hung his head. “The stronger the offering, the more power granted to the family.” He paused. “The more power we have to take.”

Cassie felt a twist of sick fascination. All those willing sacrifices, blinded to the danger, hoping they would be the lucky souls to ascend to the privileged few. Hoping they would be the one exception.

“How does it work when you feed?” she found herself asking, looking to Hugo again. “That’s what you were trying to do to me, wasn’t it? When I had those nightmares, when I was sleeping at your house. Did you plan it from the start?” She paused, thinking. “The break-in, that was you too, wasn’t it—stealing Evie’s research?”

Hugo looked ashamed. “Olivia said we had to make sure there were no loose ends. But it wasn’t part of the plan when I ran into you. I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“So you took me back to your house, and tried to . . . tried . . .” Cassie couldn’t even find the words.

“I’m sorry.” Hugo met her stare head-on. “I never meant to hurt you. I just needed to know why I felt this way. The connection between us, you feel it too.”

Cassie looked away.

“I didn’t feed from you, if that’s worth anything at all,” Hugo added, sounding remorseful. “I couldn’t. Your mind is too strong. I’ve never felt anything like it before. It’s like you’re one of us.”

Cassie didn’t speak. She wasn’t about to tell him what she’d learned about Tremain; she’d barely begun to accept it for herself. She nodded to Sebastian’s unconscious body. “Why did you bring him here?”

Hugo turned. “I want to show you. How we feed.” Hugo raised his eyes to Cassie’s with a new intensity. “You won’t understand until I show you. Will you let me, please?”

Cassie gaped at him. She wished she could deny him, tell him to leave and take his twisted games with him, but the truth was, she wanted to know. She needed to see it for herself.

She swallowed, watching Sebastian’s chest rise and fall. “How does it work?” Her voice was surprisingly steady.

Hugo blinked, as if he wasn’t sure what she was saying, but then he crossed to Sebastian’s figure and sat beside him on the couch. “I need contact,” he began, reaching to place his fingertips lightly against Sebastian’s temple. They came to rest on his scar, the thin line of red Cassie had already marked. “And then . . . It’s hard to describe, but I feel the power, reaching out into his mind.” Hugo met Cassie’s eyes across the table. He inhaled a sharp breath and then exhaled. Cassie watched, transfixed, as the air around Sebastian’s head began to shimmer and shift. Just like before, in the maze.

Hugo licked his lips and relaxed back against the couch cushions. The pulsing became stronger, until Cassie could see the energy flowing from Sebastian, up through Hugo’s hand. Hugo’s face changed, his skin glowing with health again, the shadows melting away. His eyes snapped open, holding Cassie’s gaze—their darkness gleaming with power, with possibility. “It feels . . .” he breathed. “It feels like nothing else. I can taste it, the power. All his mind’s potential, everything. It’s inside of me now.”

Cassie felt something pull in her chest. A hunger. A need she’d felt before, and never known why. She slowly rose to her feet and approached them, settling on the other side of Sebastian. Tentatively, she placed her hand on his head, her fingertips overlapping Hugo’s.

Hugo stared at her. “You can’t . . . You’re not like us.”

“Try me,” Cassie said, and closed her eyes.

Up close, she could feel the energy pulsing out of Sebastian. The air was thick with it, a shimmering, seething force. Taking a long breath, she tried to relax. She didn’t know what she was doing, only that some instinct drove her on, reaching, dismantling her body piece by piece until she was nothing but power and thought and dark intent. She felt Sebastian resist, but she pushed on, slipping deeper past his defenses until she was everywhere, surrounding him, invading him. Sebastian’s mind split wide open, and it all came rushing out to her. Raw power, glittering in her veins.

Cassie gasped, her eyes flying open. Hugo was staring back at her, his own gaze steady in the dim light. He twisted his fingers through hers, both of them clasping to Sebastian.

The darkness consumed Cassie, blossomed within her, the blaze of hunger sharp and wild. She felt it pulse, loud enough to drown her dizzy heartbeat. An anger. A wretched need she knew by heart. She’d been hiding it for so long, even from herself, but there was no avoiding the truth anymore.

This was right. This was her purpose.

Nobody would ever hurt her again.

“I’ll do it,” she told Hugo, snapping back into focus. He stared at her, not understanding. She dove deeper into the rush, shuddering as the energy coursed through her system. “I’ll be your offering at the rising,” she clarified. “I want to be one of you.”