Blood Ties

The Darke Academy series:

1 Secret Lives

2 Blood Ties

3 Divided Souls 

Copyright © 2010 Hothouse Fiction Ltd

Produced by Hothouse Fiction – www.hothousefiction.com

With special thanks to Gillian Philip

First published in Great Britain in 2010
by Hodder Children’s Books

This e-book edition published in 2010

The author’s moral rights are hereby asserted

All rights reserved. Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form, or by any means with prior permission in writing from the publishers or in the case of reprographic production in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency and may not be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

A Catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN 978 1 444 90260 0

Hodder Children’s Books
a division of Hachette Children’s Books
338 Euston Road, London
NW
1 3
BH
An Hachette UK company
www.hachette.co.uk

PROLOGUE

‘H
ey, kiddo. Are we keeping you up?’

The voice sounded familiar, but somehow muffled and distant. As if it was coming from the bottom of a well. With an effort, Cassie Bell forced her eyes open and blinked woozily at the sight before her. The table was set with thirteen places. At the centre sat a pasty-looking turkey, clearly only big enough for eight. Cheap supermarket own-brand crackers and a paper tablecloth. Fatty chipolatas and overdone sprouts.

Christmas, Cranlake Crescent-style.

Could it really be only three weeks since she was eating exquisite French cuisine from fine china and crystal in the elegant dining room of the Darke Academy? It seemed a lifetime away.

‘What’s the matter?’

Cassie refocused on the sandy-haired figure across the table. Oh, yeah. Patrick. Her key worker. The only thing that had made coming back to her old care home bearable. She managed a smile.

‘Aren’t you hungry, Cassie?’ piped up Jilly Beaton sweetly from the head of the table. ‘That’s not like you. You’ve been eating us out of house and home for a fortnight.’

Cassie dug her nails into her palms. Jilly’s bitchy remarks had been increasing ever since she had got back from Paris. Normally, Cassie wouldn’t have given her the satisfaction, but her fuse seemed to be getting shorter every day.

‘Yeah, well I just lost my appetite,’ she snapped, pushing her chair back and getting to her feet. ‘Excuse me.’

‘Cassie Bell, you’re not excused—’ began Jilly, but Cassie was already out of the room.

Patrick caught her at the foot of the stairs, his face full of concern. ‘Cassie, what’s up?’ he said. ‘You’ve been acting funny ever since you got back from Paris.’

Cassie paused for a moment. Where would she even begin? Tell him the truth about the Academy? About the mysterious group of students called the Few and their dark secret? About the ancient sprits that shared their bodies, instilling power and beauty but demanding in return that they draw life-force from their ordinary, human roommates? Could she tell him about what had happened to
her
in that black place beneath the Arc de Triomphe – the interrupted ritual that had left part of the spirit that had lived in the body of Estelle Azzedine lodged in her own mind? Could she tell him about the strange, driving hunger that had been growing inside her ever since, and how she knew that turkey and chipolatas just weren’t going to hit the spot … ?

Impossible.

‘I’m just missing my friends,’ she mumbled. ‘Y’know?’

An expression of relief washed over Patrick’s face. ‘Of course you are. Have you spoken to anyone today?’

‘I had an email from Isabella last night. And one from, um, Ranjit.’

‘Who’s Ranjit?’

‘Just, uh, a boy in one of my classes,’ replied Cassie, flustered. ‘Why?’

Patrick’s grin grew wider and his blue eyes glittered. ‘Because you blushed when you said his name.’

‘Oh, give over!’ Cassie gave him a playful shove.

‘He’s not your boyfriend, then?’

‘No, he’s not,’ she said hurriedly.

‘Uh-
huh
.’

‘No. Really.’ Cassie twisted her fingers into the cashmere sweater that her friend Isabella had sent her for Christmas. ‘It’s … complicated.’

Ha! That was the understatement of the century. Her few snatched moments with Ranjit at the end of term had hardly given them time to define their relationship. All she knew was that her stomach twisted with longing every time he came into her mind, but that he was back home in India. Thousands of miles away. She’d just have to put up with missing him – missing him like she could die of it. The feeling was so strong Cassie almost surprised herself.

Absorbed in her memories, she jumped at the sound of her ringtone. Pulling her phone from her jeans pocket, Cassie almost dropped it when she saw the name on the display. She felt the blood rushing to her face again.

‘Speak of the devil …’ chuckled Patrick as he slipped back into the dining room.

Cassie winced inwardly at his choice of words. She still didn’t understand what the Few truly were. What Ranjit truly was.
Gods and monsters
, he had once joked bitterly. So which was he? Cassie didn’t know. She wasn’t sure that he knew himself.

Pushing her worries out of her mind, she clasped the phone to her ear like a lifeline. ‘Ranjit!’

He must be able to hear the stupid grin she was wearing, even half a world away.

‘Cassandra.’ The soft warmth of his voice made her forget the freezing sleet and even, for a moment, the raging hunger. ‘Happy Christmas.’

‘Same to you.’ Breathless, she sat down on the stairs. It was criminal how much she missed him. Criminal, and deeply inconvenient. ‘Oh, it’s good to hear from you.’

‘Are you OK?’ He sounded concerned.

‘I’m fine. Fine. Just a bit … ’

‘The hunger is growing, isn’t it?’

Cassie was quiet for a moment. It was a relief to speak to someone who knew what she was going through. Ranjit had been there before.

‘Yes,’ she said at last, and laughed shakily. ‘You got it.’

‘It won’t be long, Cassandra. A week and a half. Will you be all right?’

‘I’m fine. Honestly. I just …’ She hesitated, then took a leap of faith. ‘I miss you. A lot.’

‘God, me too.’ The vehemence in his voice was shocking, coming from the normally cool and collected Ranjit Singh. He almost sounded relieved. ‘I miss you and I’m
worried
about you. Have you, ah, heard any more from Estelle?’

Cassie swallowed. Ranjit was the only person who knew that the ancient spirit sometimes spoke to Cassie inside her head – something unheard of among the Few. ‘Once or twice. But the old bat’s been quiet lately. I hope she’s curled up and died of hunger.’

‘I don’t think that’s going to happen, Cassie.’

‘Yeah. I know.’

‘Take care of yourself. Please?’

She smiled, couldn’t help it. ‘Course I will. And I’ll see you soon.’

‘Can’t be soon enough.’ He gave a low laugh. ‘Listen, I have to go. I’ll talk to you again when I can.’

Tears stung her eyes as her stomach twisted again. ‘Bye, Ranjit. Merry Christmas.’

‘And you. Again.’

Cassie snapped the phone shut before she started to blub. She buried her face in her hands. Oh, this was ridiculous. She was supposed to be
tough
. She’d get through this. The hunger to feed, the hunger for Ranjit …

Stop.
Stop
.

The trouble was, she was ravenous. Overcome with a desperate, intangible hunger for something beyond mere food. But there was nothing she could do except wait it out until the new term began. Then she might get some answers. And perhaps the waiting might help. Hell, if you stayed off chocolate long enough, you lost the craving for it. If you lasted a few weeks without cigarettes, you didn’t want them any more.

Yes, and if you give up breathing for a while, you’ll lose the taste for oxygen!

Cassie stiffened.

Well, really, my dear. You do amuse me!

Ignore her, Cassie told herself. Ignore her.

Easier said than done. Just the sound of Estelle’s voice in her head was enough to send the hunger sweeping through her with renewed 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
…