Ivy: Daughter of Alice Read online

  The bartender started rubbing at a glass with a towel. He shrugged. “I don’t know about any white rabbits.”

  I paused, staring at the card. “Raven is an unusual name,” I ventured.

  “It’s no human name, that’s for sure. If you don’t know who Raven is, then I can’t help you.”

  I stared down at the card. The bartender was right—Raven wasn’t a human name. That meant only one thing: Raven was a vampire.

  Not only that, but Raven knew who I was. The knowledge sent a shiver down my spine.

  4

  15 August

  Candlelight flickered from hundreds of candles set into elaborate candelabras all around the dark room. The shadows danced, illuminating hats on every surface. So many hats—tall, small, round, square, decorated with ribbons, bows, feathers, bones, gears and cogs—sitting on every available surface.

  Despite the rainbow of color they provided, I barely looked at the hats. Instead, I stared at the figure standing in front of me. An impossibly beautiful face—smooth, pale skin like porcelain, black hair that fell to his strong jaw, with piercing green eyes that sparkled like gemstones, watching me.

  I couldn’t take my eyes from his face, as though an invisible cord snapped tight between us, drawing us together. A regular thudding pulsed in my ears. My heartbeat drowning out every other sound.

  I felt hot—too hot—and I fluttered my fan with one hand, as I reached out to touch his face with the other. My fingers ran over the skin of his cheek, and a shiver ran through me at the cool touch of his skin.

  He caught my hand and pressed a kiss into my palm. Then lowered his face to smell my wrist. I held my breath. He continued up my arm to my elbow, then up my inner arm with a feathery touch so light that it tickled.

  His wide, red lips stretched into a smile as he looked up at me through long black lashes. He continued to inhale my scent, moving along my collarbone.

  He closed his eyes, as he stopped at the soft skin at the base of my neck. When his eyes flickered open, the pupils were so dilated that his eyes looked black.

  “May I?” he asked, and his voice was a low hum, like music. I wanted to hear more. I froze, my eyes locked on his face, my body attuned to his movement, mesmerized by the entrancing sound of his voice.

  I nodded once.

  Then he opened his mouth wide, and I saw the glint of candlelight on his fangs.

  My pulse thudded in my ears like thunder, but I couldn’t move.

  The vampire bent his head to the base of my neck and his razor-sharp teeth sank into my skin.

  I opened my mouth to scream.

  I sat straight upright, as my heart pounded. I drew my knees to my chest as I clutched at the spot where I thought I’d been bitten. I stared around frantically for the vampire to catch him in the act of escape.

  A sliver of light crept in through a crack in the heavy curtains of my bedroom windows. It lit the room enough to banish the shadows. There wasn’t anyone else here.

  No vampire.

  No one.

  I looked at my hand, turning it over. No blood, no cuts. No blemishes of any kind.

  I exhaled deeply and let my forehead fall to my knees.

  A nightmare—the same one I’d been having for days.

  I’m thinking too much about vampires because of the investigation into the blood banks.

  But no—the dreams about vampires started before my investigation. Besides, I wasn’t dreaming about vampires. I was dreaming about one vampire. One impossibly handsome vampire with intoxicating eyes.

  I threw back the remaining covers, reaching for my pocket watch. My fingers brushed the metal case, and I saw the elegant script written on the card left for me at The Tea Party: We choose our future.

  What did it mean? Another puzzle.

  I pushed those thoughts aside, flicked open the watch, and gasped. I swung my legs over the side of the four-poster bed, slid into some slippers and shuffled over to my wardrobe to dress.

  A maid had left a tray of breakfast on the side table. I nibbled on a slice of bread as I read a note, then groaned. Mother had called for me, and I was already late.

  “You wanted to see me, Mother?”

  Alice was at her desk, reading a stack of papers. The smudges underneath her eyes suggested she had slept little.

  Alice’s face lightened as she saw me. “Ivy…” She paused as she studied me. “You look as though you’ve barely slept.”

  I cleared my throat. “I was out late with Chesh, then I had nightmares.”

  Alice pressed her lips together, in an attempt at disapproval, but I could see in the way her lips curled up at the edges, that she wasn’t angry. “How is Mr. Cheshire? I haven’t seen him lately.” Alice raised one eyebrow.

  “He’s been busy at the Emporium. He’s inventing a flying machine.”

  Alice laughed, and the sound lifted my mood. She didn’t laugh much anymore—always too busy for fun. “If he’s going to keep you out at all hours, he should do the proper thing and ask my permission for your hand.”

  “Mother!” My eyes widened as I shook my head. “Chesh is a friend. Nothing more.”

  “So you say,” Alice remarked dryly. “I’ve not heard Mr. Cheshire’s side of the story.”

  “There is only one side of this story, Mother,” I replied, then cast around to change the subject. “Have you had any breakfast? Shall I ring for tea?”

  The smile faded as Alice looked down at the stack of papers. “I don’t have time. Actually, there was a reason… I wrote it down… somewhere…”

  “While you’re looking, I wanted to ask you—” I started.

  Alice placed both hands flat on the desk. “Did you find out anything about the blood banks?” she interrupted.

  I nodded. “I visited the blood bank yesterday. There was a crowd waiting to donate blood. They have plenty of stock.”

  “No substance to the petitioner’s fears? Good,” Alice replied. “I don’t need a vampire problem. That clock is making everyone crazy. People are terrified the Queen of Hearts is returning. They’re refusing to leave their houses.”

  “Why do you think it started ticking again?” I asked.

  Alice looked up again from her papers. “You’re not worried, too? You’re too sensible for that.”

  I shook my head. “It makes me wonder, though… Why does a clock start to tick after all this time?”

  “I’m less concerned about the clock than about people refusing to leave their houses. We have several staff who didn’t turn up to work today. I heard reports of people packing their possessions into a cart and leaving the city—they’re willing to take their chances in a strange place because a clock is ticking. Honestly, sometimes I do not understand people at all.”

  Me, neither, I thought.

  I slipped the card out of my pocket and turned it over so that the white rabbit motif faced upwards.

  I cleared my throat. “There was something else—”

  “That reminds me,” Alice jabbed her finger in the air, her eyes lighting up. “Will you work an extra shift today? In the Spades Quarter? One inspector didn’t show up for work.”

  I nodded. “I’ve never been there, but I know where it is.” The oldest part of the city, the Spades Quarter was otherwise known as the vampire quarter, because of the large concentration of vampire residences.

  Alice nodded. “Be careful and don’t linger after dark, do you hear?”

  She called out to Jack and requested the specifics of the inspection schedule. As he hurried out of the room to oblige, Alice waved a hand at me. “See you at dinner.”

  Ignoring her dismissal, I asked, “Mother, what do you know about the white rabbit?”

  Alice froze. “What?”

  “The white rabbit,” I repeated. “The baker mentioned him the other day.”

  Alice fussed with the papers on her desk, not meeting my eyes. “I remember.” She cleared her throat. “He served the late Queen. He was always late. Or, he was always w
orried about being late. The Queen of Hearts brought out everyone’s neuroses.”

  “What happened to him?”

  Two red dots appeared on Alice’s cheeks, a sign that she was embarrassed. She looked out of the window. There was a long pause. “He left The Forge,” she said, finally. “I have no idea where he went.”

  “Do you recognize this?” I held out the card with the white rabbit motif. Alice looked at it, but there was no flicker of recognition. She passed back the card.

  “Was the white rabbit a vampire?”

  “No!” Alice looked astonished. “Why all these questions?”

  I turned the card around in my hand, unable to put my thoughts into words. The petitioner had mentioned rumors about the white rabbit gathering the late Queen’s supporters, and I’d seen the painting of the white rabbit in several places across the city. Whether it had anything to do with the white rabbit that Alice used to know, I had no idea. But I was sure it was connected to Raven, the vampire.

  I hated a puzzle I couldn’t solve.

  “No reason, Mother,” I murmured. “I’ll get to work and let you get back to yours.”

  “You’ll ruin me!”

  Mr. Thackery clasped his hands in front of him as he dropped to his knees. He was balding, and his remaining gray hair floated around his head, somewhere between short and long. His coat was worn, his collar yellow with wear. His own appearance broke the aesthetic code, let alone the condition of his shop. Thackery’s Fine Antiques looked as though it hadn’t been cleaned since its goods were first made.

  “My records show this is the third time an inspector has assessed code violations,” I said, taking another step backward to put space between myself and Mr. Thackery. “You cannot continue to operate in violation of the code.”

  “If I can’t open my shop, I can’t run my business, I can’t feed my children,” Mr. Thackery said, reaching out to grab my skirts and holding me in place.

  I pulled at my dress to whip my skirts from his grasp. “If you remedy the violations and pay the fine, we will return your license. It’s detailed in this list.” I held out a piece of paper to Mr. Thackery. “Please, get up.”

  He slowly got to his feet, then snatched the paper from my hand. He ran his eyes ran over the list of violations, and his shoulders slumped.

  “I can’t pay for this—I can’t even afford the repairs, let alone the fine to get my license back. You’re putting me out of business.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Thackery. I can’t do any more for you. I detail everything in that list. I wish you the best of luck.” I cleared my throat. “Good day.”

  Without waiting for Mr. Thackery’s response, I pushed through the door and stepped onto the street, taking a deep breath to rid myself of the musty odor that permeated the antique shop. As I stepped away, I made the mistake of looking back and saw Mr. Thackery, sobbing into his handkerchief. My throat seized up. I spun around to look in the other direction.

  He’d had his chances, I told myself. The previous inspector warned him. He broke the rules.

  I didn’t feel any better.

  I kept my eyes forward as I walked away. When I’d put a block between myself and the antique shop, I looked down at the last item on my list.

  Ace of Spades Apothecary. I marched towards it, determined to get the inspection over with. After the day I’d had, I wasn’t surprised the regular inspector had stayed home—almost every business I’d visited, had required a warning for a code violation, and I’d had to issue two shut down notices. I’d already decided to tell Alice that she would need to find someone else to take on the regular rounds.

  The apothecary was dark. The sign in the window read: Closed.

  Below, a handwritten note read: Open 8pm until 8am.

  I flicked open the case of my pocket watch. Almost two hours until the shop would open. Alice had insisted that I not remain in this quarter after dark, but the summer evenings were still long. I should have time to inspect the shop and get home before dark, but I would cut it close.

  I turned in a circle and saw the Reading Leaves Tearooms, where I could pass the time. I settled myself at the window and raised my hand to draw the attention of a server.

  I was waiting out in front of the apothecary when the sign flipped to Open. A young man fiddled with the lock, then pulled open door. His eyes widened when he saw me, but he stood aside to let me enter.

  I felt no inclination towards small talk. “Inspector Rowntree. Just a routine inspection.”

  The young man returned to his place behind the desk where he busied himself with what appeared to be accounts. I wandered between rows and rows of vials of colored liquids with fancy descriptions I had never heard of. Though, with labels like Clorisazole: For use around the eyes to eliminate crow’s feet or Nobaldogene Perminisec: One spoonful to be taken at bedtime to ward off baldness, I expected his custom was good among those who could pay for remedies to increase their aesthetic credit.

  Running my gloved fingers over the shelves and vials, I found only hints of dust. The apothecary was clean, well ordered, though perhaps more cluttered than was seemly. I was halfway through my checklist when the bell tinkled as the shop door opened.

  The timber floorboards creaked to announce the first customer. I didn’t look up, but I continued to work my way down the checklist, moving through the shop, while a conversation with the customer continued in the background.

  It wasn’t until the bell tinkled again that the salutation pierced my concentration.

  “Good evening, Raven. Until next time.”

  My head jerked up, and I dropped the clipboard I was holding. Raven?

  The door closed with a thud. I spun to face it, but there was no sign of the customer who had been in the shop only moments ago.

  Had I heard right? Could it be my Raven? How many could there be in Melfall? It had to be the same man who had left me his card at The Tea Party.

  Leaving the clipboard on the floor, and my hat on the counter, I ran to the door and jerked it open. Dimly, the shop assistant called out in surprise, but I ignored him as I stepped onto the street. Looking left and right, I berated myself for not getting a better look at the customer when he’d entered the apothecary.

  The streets were dark and empty. I cursed my luck as I looked at the sky. It had become a deep indigo as the last glimmer of light disappeared. I’d promised Alice that I wouldn’t linger after nightfall, but the inspection had taken longer than I’d intended.

  I took a few steps toward one corner and peered around to look down the next street. It was empty.

  “Spades!” I muttered, then stormed back into the apothecary.

  “Inspector?” the young man crouched in the place where I’d dropped my clipboard. He held it out to me. “Are you well?”

  “Yes,” I said, snatching back my paperwork from his outstretched hand. Then I clamped my mouth shut for a moment while I steadied myself. “I’m sorry, I was just…”

  I shook my head, collecting my thoughts. “Actually, I need to ask you some questions.”

  The assistant sauntered back to put the counter between us. He watched me through wary eyes. “If I can be of service.”

  “The customer who was just here. Who is he?”

  The assistant frowned. “I’m not acquainted with him. He came in off the street.”

  I arched one eyebrow. “You didn’t know him?”

  A muscle in the man’s jaw tensed, as though he was clenching his teeth. “Anyone may enter a store, Inspector.”

  I stepped up to the other side of the counter, looking him in the eye. I rapped my fingertips on the polished wood of the countertop. “You called him by his name. I surmised that you know him.”

  “His name?”

  “You called him Raven.”

  “You must have been mistaken. I know no-one of that name,” he replied, though I thought I saw his eye twitch.

  I paused, watching him. He met my gaze, but I was sure he was lying. “Have you
heard of the white rabbit?” I asked.

  He paled slightly. I drew out the card that Raven had left for me in The Tea Party. “Do you recognize this motif?”

  The young man shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. If you have finished your inspection…” He looked pointedly at the clipboard clutched to my chest.

  I bit the inside of my cheek. “For now,” I said. “Unfortunately, there are some anomalies. I’ll have to return soon.”

  The assistant crossed his arms across his chest, staring at me with an expression of disapproval. I gathered my things, put on my hat, and prepared to leave.

  As I turned, I spotted a small vial of dark red liquid identified by a black label. There were no markings, except for a white line in the shape of rabbit ears. I turned back and grabbed it before the assistant could stop me.

  “That’s not—”

  “The white rabbit?” I said. The vial was marked with the same motif as on Raven’s card and on the walls around the city. “What is this?”

  The man stood still; his thin lips pressed into a line. He didn’t answer.

  “Did Raven leave this?”

  The man’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I don’t know Raven.”

  I looked at the vial again, swirling the liquid around. “This is blood.” My eyes widened as I understood. “Black market blood.”

  He clutched the edge of the counter and shook his head. “I don’t know—”

  “You’re lying,” I pointed a finger at his chest and tucked the vial into my bag. “I’m taking this with me. When I return, I hope you’ll have enough sense to answer my questions.”

  “You’re making a mistake,” he said as I put my hand on the door. I spun around to face him again. “Go back to your beauty parlors, dresses, and parties.”

  I gritted my teeth, flushing at his insinuation. “Or what?”

  “Or, you might find out what’s happening in this city.”

  “Is that a threat?” I asked.

  “Trust me,” he said. He walked around the counter to come toward me. I stood frozen in position, holding my breath as he approached. He stood too close, then reached out, as though to grab hold of me. I jumped out of his way.