Page 3 of House of Crimson Hearts
“Tave, darling, why waste your time? My balls will grow back.”
I narrow my eyes at him. He only calls me Tave when he comes bearing bad news, he wants something, or I’ve done something to please him.
I face him. “Perhaps, but at least I’ll feel better. Are you going to tell me why you’re here? You might be my favourite, but I’m busy… attending to… whatever it is I need to attend to.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “You’re immortal. We don’t do busy. We luxuriate and gloat in the endless excesses of time we have. Besides, you have no friends. Who exactly is it that’s taking up your time?”
“I have no need of friends. You have enough for us both.”
“You sound bitter.”
“Only because I’m having to tolerate your presence,Xave.”
He swings an arm around my shoulder. “You’re so cute when you’re pissy. But I’ll relent. I have come bearing a message from Mummy.”
“Must you call her that?”
“What would you prefer?”
“She-devil, harbinger of death, distributor of pain, Lilith?”
Xavier laughs. “Why, we are feeling dramatic this evening, aren’t we?”
“Go fuck yourself, Xavier. Tell me what Mother wants or get out of my club. You’re making me hungry.”
“She requests your presence at dinner.”
“Are the others going?”
He nods. “Alas, I am the errand boy today, delivering the same message to all of them. I’m going to the church next.”
The Church of Blood is Sadie’s territory. There are five of us, two boys, three girls: me, Xavier, Sadie, Dahlia and Gabriel. Mother collected each of us for a different reason, in a different way. None of our histories are pretty. But what I do know is that no good stories follow Sadie St Clair. Some say Cordelia compelled Sadie to watch as she drained her birth mother dry.
Others say Cordelia found Sadie in the mountains, sat cross-legged in a halo of reddened snow. A wolf’s tail in one hand and a gnawed hind leg in the other, crusted claret decorating both her cheeks.
But the story most give begins in the Montague Forest, out past the city's border. Cordelia was hunting after dusk. She stumbled across a pretty little thing laid in the leaf mould, still as death. Not quite human, not quite fae. Neither vampire nor witch, nor demon nor dhampir. Cordelia was perplexed because, despite the motionless creature, there was no mistaking the fact Sadie’s heart still beat. Slow, slow, slow. Hair the colour of fresh snow draped over her shoulders.
Beneath Sadie lay a bed of decaying roses. All of them curled and singed at the edges as if the girl had leached the life from them.
Cordelia leaned in, brushed a snowy lock away. Sadie lunged, sinking her teeth into Cordelia’s face. She stole a chunk of flesh and swallowed. Cordelia still bears the sweet little scar beneath her eye today.
Sadie snarled, all sharp teeth and growls. So, Cordelia took her and locked her in a cage until she learned to be civilised.
Oh, how Sadie screamed and screamed and screamed. She cried out until her voice bled into the walls and left her mute. If you ever visit Castle St Clair and stay late, some nights you can still hear her haunting howls clawing from the walls long past midnight.
All that is to say, none of us really know how Sadie came to be. Mother refuses to speak of her creation. And Sadie has said not a word in all the centuries I’ve known her.
“Have fun delivering that message,” I say and wave a hand dismissively at the debauchery below. “Help yourself to the good stuff on your way out.”
He bends to my hand and places a soft kiss on the back of it. “You always did treat me well.”
“Hmm. Be a good boy and fuck off now, won’t you?”
That, at least, elicits a broad smile, his white teeth and sharp fangs descending. He inclines his head and vanishes. There’s a whip of breeze as he uses vampire speed to race down into the main club.
Movement in the corner of the dance floor below catches my eye. It’s not unusual for deals to be made in here. It’s a haven for the less legal customs in the city. That’s one benefit of this mansion specifically. You pay a drop of blood on entry and the mansion keeps your secrets, hence ‘Whisper Club’. Magic’s a wonderful thing, blood magic especially, and this house is hungry.
I focus on the couple. They stand strangely, both facing out towards the dancers, their hands unnaturally close for two supposed strangers. Something passes between them, and that’s when a spotlight flashes over the pair and I realise who it is. My missing piece. Red, my ever-irritating hunter girl.
