Midnight

HarperVoyager

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street,

London SE1 9GF

www.harpervoyagerbooks.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperVoyager 2017

Copyright © Christi J. Whitney 2017

Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2017.

Cover photographs © Shutterstock.com

Christi J. Whitney asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.

Ebook Edition © May 2017 ISBN: 9780008122416

Version: 2017-10-19

To my love

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

1. Josephine

2. Josephine

3. Josephine

4. Sebastian

5. Sebastian

6. Sebastian

7. Josephine

8. Josephine

9. Josephine

10. Sebastian

11. Josephine

12. Josephine

13. Sebastian

14. Josephine

15. Josephine

16. Sebastian

17. Josephine

18. Josephine

19. Josephine

20. Josephine

21. Sebastian

22. Sebastian

23. Josephine

24. Josephine

25. Sebastian

26. Josephine

27. Sebastian

28. Josephine

29. Josephine

30. Josephine

31. Sebastian

32. Josephine

33. Sebastian

34. Josephine

35. Josephine

36. Josephine

37. Josephine

38. Josephine

39. Josephine

40. Josephine

41. Josephine

42. Sebastian

43. Josephine

44. Sebastian

Epilogue – Sebastian

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Also by Christi J. Whitney

About the Publisher

1. Josephine

‘They’re putting Sebastian on trial.’

I stopped walking and stared hard at my brother, trying to wrap my head around his words. Fifteen minutes ago, Sebastian and I had been on our way back to the Circe de Romany from our picnic. Then Quentin and his Marksmen met us at the gate, and turned everything upside down.

‘What are you saying, Francis?’ I demanded. ‘Putting him on trial for what?’

‘We have to go, Josephine. It’s starting.’

My brother took me under the arm and hurried me through the opening of the red and gold tent. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Our entire clan had gathered in the Circe’s large Holding Tent. People stood along the canvas walls or squeezed themselves onto the long benches, talking in low, questioning voices.

A table had been set up on the far side of the tent and our father, Nicolas Romany, sat blank-faced in the center. I recognized the men positioned on either side of him. They were judges, appointed by each family in our clan to preside over a trial. One of them was Andre, my Circe partner. And another was Quentin.

My heart dropped like a heavy weight inside me.

Francis followed my gaze, and his green eyes mirrored mine. His jaw tightened. ‘Father called the kris a half-hour ago and ordered everyone to be present. We’ve been waiting for you to get back from your trip to Copper Mountain.’ My brother nodded towards the entrance. ‘Both of you.’

‘Francis, what—’

‘It’s not good, Josephine,’ he said, cutting me off. ‘It’s really not good.’

I allowed him to lead me through the center of the tent. I felt eyes on me from every direction, like bugs crawling all over my body. I held my chin high and kept my face wiped clean of any expression, but my insides churned.

I took my place, standing behind the table next to my mother. She didn’t look at me. Francis stayed on my other side, his shoulder pressing comfortingly into mine. Leo, the head judge, stood up from the table and motioned to the Marksmen standing on either side of the tent door.

‘Bring it in.’

My stomach clenched with nausea as the guards opened the flaps and Sebastian was shoved forcefully through the opening. He went down on one knee, but only for a moment before he was yanked to his feet. I winced at the sight of him. They’d strapped his gigantic wings to his back with tight cords, and their clawed tips dragged along the ground behind him. His arms were also pinned behind him, heavily chained across his wings.

Sebastian stumbled to the center, looking weak and disoriented. He shook his head several times, like he was trying to clear whatever it was away. His pewter hair fell across his forehead. Marksmen forced him down onto his knees, but he looked up sharply, his strange, silver eyes focusing on the people at the table. And then, his gaze landed on me.

Sebastian’s expression held no anger, only confusion. He blinked once, slowly. Immediately, I felt his emotions, deep inside my chest, as strongly as if they were my own. He was concerned about … me. My breath caught in my throat. I could only stare back at him, praying he felt my emotions the same way. He gave me one last blink, then pushed himself determinedly to his feet.

Quentin also rose and stepped around the table. He was dressed in his normal Marksman outfit, perfectly fitted from head to toe. Once, I used to love the way his tall, trim figure looked in the uniform. Now, it just made me feel sick inside. He smoothed his sleek black hair, the way he did when he was feeling confident about something.

Sebastian ignored him, turning to my father instead. ‘Nicolas, I don’t—’

‘Chain the creature,’ said Quentin.

I watched in helpless horror as four of our largest guards descended on Sebastian. They pushed him backwards to the middle of the tent, to the thick center support beam. Metal chains were flung across his chest and yanked taut. Sebastian grunted as one Marksman adjusted the manacles and fastened them with a lock that clicked ominously into place.

‘What’s going on?’ demanded Sebastian.

I heard the telltale growling sound seeping into his voice, though I could feel him trying his best to stay calm. My eyes pricked with hot tears, but I forcibly blinked them away.

My father answered. ‘It’s not your time to speak, Sebastian Grey.’

One of the Marksmen – a man named Jacque, who I’d known since we were children – stepped forward and raised his fist towards Sebastian. I opened my mouth, but Quentin yelled out a command, and Jacque lowered his arm.

My father stood. The crowd went instantly quiet. Nicolas Romany was our bandoleer, and no one from our clan would dare speak over him.

‘We’ve called this kris because what happened tonight affects the entire clan – and not just us, but everyone in our kumpania.’

I searched frantically for my brother’s hand. Francis felt my touch and looked down at me. I saw the light of fiery anger behind his eyes. That tiny glimmer steadied me. My brother had supported Sebastian from the beginning, even when so many others had been unwilling to trust him because of what he was.

‘What’s happened?’ I whispered to him.

Francis turned his eyes towards our father. ‘I don’t know,’ he said tensely, through clenched teeth. ‘I heard there was another chimera attack.’

I froze. Had those demonic beasts we’d fought on Copper Mountain infiltrated the Circe while we were gone? Were people blaming Sebastian for not being here to protect them? If so, then it was my fault. I’d been the one to ask him to come with me. Guilt twisted my lungs like a tourniquet. All I’d wanted was some time with Sebastian alone – a moment of peace away from the business of the clan. It was the Marksmen’s job to patrol the Fairgrounds.

How could they blame Sebastian for this?

Leo, the head judge, addressed the crowd, turning his old withered face to the benches full of people. ‘The purpose of this kris is to determine the guilt or innocence of the accused.’

My throat seized up. Accused?

‘Nicolas!’ Sebastian’s voice suddenly rang out from the center of the tent. Jacque took a swing at him with his fist, but Sebastian ducked his head out of the way. ‘I demand to know why I’m here.’

Leo’s head snapped around. ‘You will speak only when directed to, gargoyle!’

‘I have the right to—’

‘You have no rights in this court,’ said Andre, cutting him off.

I felt my stomach sink even lower. Andre was my Circe partner. It wasn’t a secret that he was wary of Sebastian, but the malice in his voice took me by surprise. All around me, people were murmuring. People I’d always considered my friends – or, at least, people I’d always liked. Now, it was as though someone had poisoned the entire room with dark thoughts.

Quentin leaned across the table. ‘Leo, for the benefit of the court … and the accused, of course … why don’t you state the accusation?’

‘Very well,’ said Leo, drawing up his wrinkled face. ‘Sebastian Grey, you are on trial for the murder of Karl Corsi.’

The crowd exploded around me. I gasped and dug my fingers into Francis’ arm. Karl was dead? A cold shiver went down my spine. Karl had been more than just our circus trainer. He’d been like a grandfather to us all.

At Leo’s accusation, Sebastian slumped forward, as through someone had punched him in the stomach. The life went out of his inhumanly silver eyes. He looked sick. My heart wanted to burst.

‘No,’ I said loudly. Francis pulled on me, but I broke out of his grasp and rushed to the table. ‘That’s not possible. Sebastian was with me all day.’

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, Quentin went rigid all over. He turned his piercing eyes in my direction, and I saw the familiar set of his jaw that meant he was furious with me. But I didn’t care. What they were doing was wrong. It was all wrong.

My father was also staring at me. ‘We’ll cover the details in time, Josephine,’ he said slowly. ‘Go back to your place.’

Though his voice sounded relaxed, his expression wasn’t. I felt the tension between us, and I knew I’d come dangerously close to overstepping my bounds. At this moment, I wasn’t Nicolas Romany’s daughter. I was a member of the Romany clan, and he was my bandoleer.

Every part of me screamed inside. But the authority of the kris was absolute. I was bound by it, the same as anyone else. With a huge amount of effort, I managed a stiff nod at my father. I felt Francis guiding me back to my place. He took my hand in his, holding it tightly.

‘There’s nothing you can do,’ he said quietly in my ear.

I watched with mounting dread as Leo regarded Sebastian with a frigid look and crossed his arms expectantly.

‘Well, gargoyle,’ said Leo. ‘What is your plea?’

Sebastian pushed himself up as straight as possible against the support pole. The clanking of his chains echoed eerily in the silent tent. Trickles of purple-black blood ran down his hands from the metal cuffs. His gray skin looked oddly pale, but his expression remained resolute. Sebastian looked steadily at each and every man at the table, and his silver gaze fell lastly on me. He took a deep breath and said in a voice loud enough for the entire room to hear:

‘I didn’t kill him.’

The neon sign of the Gypsy Ink flashed, ripping me from the memory. The horrible scene of the last few hours vaporized, and I found myself staring at the black door of the Corsi tattoo parlor, the place where Sebastian had spent most of his life. My chest ached.

How was I going to tell them about Sebastian?

I took a deep breath and flung open the door. A group of heavily tattooed men turned to face me. I looked around the room, trying to catch my breath and squash my nerves at the same time. I clutched Quentin’s keys in my fist, wondering how long it would be until he realized his SUV wasn’t there.

‘Where’s Hugo?’

The three men gaped at me, then turned their heads simultaneously towards a narrow hallway. I heard the clamp of heavy, steel-toed boots approaching on the tile floor. I squared my shoulders and pulled my robe tighter around my Circe costume as Hugo Corsi, the leader of the Corsi clan and Sebastian’s foster brother, stepped into the room.

‘Josephine.’

Hugo’s voice was rough and harder than concrete. The voice of someone used to being in charge and giving orders. The tone in which he said my name demanded answers to questions he hadn’t even asked.

‘I’m sorry,’ I blurted out, my nerves getting the best of me. ‘I tried to come sooner, but I couldn’t get away.’ I felt utterly ridiculous in my stage outfit and makeup. My Circe life was so different from Sebastian’s world – the world I was standing in now. ‘My father’s been watching my every move since it happened.’

‘Since what happened?’ Hugo punctuated every word. His dark eyes shifted to the door and back. ‘What are you doing here? And where’s Sebastian?’

I glanced over Hugo’s head, at the skull-and-crossbones clock hanging on the back wall. I had less than an hour until our show began. Andre, my routine partner, would realize I was missing the second he came by my dressing room to fetch me.

‘Sebastian’s gone,’ I answered.

Hugo tossed his cleaning rag aside and stormed around the counter. The muscles beneath his neck tattoo bulged, and the ink seemed to come to life across his skin.

‘What do you mean he’s gone?’

Before I could reply, a huge man standing on my right reached for me, his touch surprisingly gentle on my arm. He gave me a small smile. ‘Why don’t you start over, from the beginning?’

A man with red hair and a lip piercing shoved a stack of magazines off the couch and motioned for me to sit. I barely knew the Corsis, but I could pick them out from Sebastian’s descriptions. The red-haired man was Vincent. The stocky, thick-shouldered one was Kris, and the massive man with the gentle demeanor was James. Then, there was their leader Hugo Corsi. His expression was scary, intense.

‘From the beginning,’ I repeated. I inhaled through my nose and breathed out slowly through my mouth, as though preparing for a stunt in one of my acts ‘My clan held a kris last night.’

‘A trial,’ said James, frowning heavily. ‘Why?’

‘Last night, Karl Corsi was found dead in his trailer.’ I spoke quickly, pushing my raw feelings aside. ‘All the evidence pointed to him being killed by a shadow creature. They accused Sebastian of murdering Karl and taking all his books with information on the shadow world.’

I paused, gauging their reactions. I didn’t know how close they’d been to Karl, but he was a Corsi, and clan ties were stronger than blood. James looked visibly shaken, but the others remained blank and silent, which was somehow worse.

‘Our council was deadlocked,’ I continued. ‘They couldn’t find Sebastian guilty or innocent, but because of everything that had happened, they refused to release him.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ said Kris, crossing his thick arms. ‘If they couldn’t find him guilty—’

‘Everything was out of control,’ I said, cutting him off. ‘People were scared. There were reports of shadow creatures in the woods, and a lot of people were convinced Sebastian had called them there. The Marksmen ordered everyone to stay in our trailers, and our clan was demanding a verdict. My father had no choice but to defer to the High Council in Savannah.’

‘A convenient action,’ snarled Kris.

‘But it’s the law,’ said James. ‘Whether we like it or not. If a decision can’t be made in a kris, then it has to go before the High Court. Nicolas was only doing his job.’

Hugo studied me. ‘Why haven’t we been told?’

‘My father didn’t want other clans getting wind of what happened, especially after all the rumors of shadowen attacks and clan feuding that have been coming out of the north. He thought it would only cause panic.’

‘Karl may have worked with you, but he was from our clan,’ said Vincent from the other side of the room. His face turned as red as his hair. ‘Your family had no right to keep this from us.’

I looked away, feeling awful. ‘I know.’

‘We will mourn for Karl in our own time,’ said Hugo, addressing the others. ‘He was a Corsi, but he belonged to the Circe. They will do right by him. For now, Sebastian needs to be our focus. If we start making preparations now, we can leave before—’

‘Wait,’ I said. ‘That’s not all of it.’

I closed my eyes, forcing my thoughts to go back, to return to the last time I saw Sebastian, almost seventeen hours ago. To make myself see the old animal cage at the back of the Circe property where he’d been held. To relive the moment I’d lost him.

‘Right after the trial, Augustine showed up at the Circe.’

At the mention of the man who’d been banished from Outcast Gypsy society, the Corsis immediately bristled with hatred and fury. But, they kept silent, letting me continue.

‘Augustine is actually my uncle Adolár.’ The words burned like acid in my throat. ‘I never knew it until last night. I was too young when he left the Circe to remember him.’ I shuddered. I didn’t want to dwell on my relationship to the former Gypsy anymore than I had to. ‘Augustine told my father he was on his way to Savannah to meet with the Queen. He had somehow found out about our kris, and he offered to escort Sebastian there.’

‘So, Augustine has my brother,’ said Hugo, in a deadly tone. ‘That marimé traitor with a grudge against every clan in this kumpania, and Nicolas just lets him waltz out of the Romany camp with your guardian?’

‘It happened so fast,’ I replied, rubbing my palms together until my skin stung. ‘My father couldn’t spare a Marksmen escort, but the High Council was already expecting Sebastian. Augustine said that if he personally delivered Sebastian to the Court, he’d be able to get an audience with the Queen.’

‘Why would he think that?’ huffed Kris. ‘He’s marimé. He’s lost his Gypsy blood and every right he had under our law. It’s not like he could even get anywhere near her.’

‘Unless he had an extremely important reason,’ Hugo said, sarcasm heavy and dripping. ‘Unbelievable. Nicolas let Augustine use my brother like some kind of bargaining chip to see the Queen.’

‘My father had no choice,’ I replied, feeling caught between my family and Sebastian and sickened by the whole thing. ‘Augustine threatened to tell the other clans we were harboring a murderer. The Marksmen made Sebastian look like some merciless killer. Half the troupe already believed he was guilty. But then, when they let him out of that cage …’

I dropped off. A cold chill poured through me.

James touched my shoulder again, gentle and non-threatening. ‘What happened when they let Sebastian out?’

‘He wasn’t himself,’ I said quietly.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Hugo. He sat on the other end of the couch. I felt the tension coming off him like the heat from an engine.

‘I’ve seen what Sebastian can do.’ I paused, trying to find words to describe the change that came over him, but everything sounded wrong in my head. ‘What I mean is, I know how he can be when he’s forced to act as a guardian, when he has to protect me … or anyone else. But he’s always snapped back before. It was different this time. He was vicious, and his eyes … his eyes were just … empty.’

Like an animal’s, I’d nearly added, but stopped myself. No, he wasn’t the creature Quentin accused him of being. In that brief moment – just before he’d gone so wild – he’d asked for my forgiveness, and in his eyes, I saw the sweet, strange boy whose life had intersected with mine. He wasn’t a beast.

Something had happened to him.

Hugo’s gaze traveled to the window. It had grown dark outside, and the glass reflected the room. The corner of his mouth tightened. ‘Do you believe he killed Karl?’

‘Absolutely not!’ I leapt up, suddenly shaking with a fury that caught me off guard. ‘He would never do something like that. You’re his brother. You should know!’

‘He’s not the same kid you knew in school. He’s a gargoyle now.’

‘He’s my guardian,’ I snapped. ‘I don’t care what he looks like or where he came from. He’s still Sebastian. He has the best heart of anyone I’ve ever met, and he would never … ever …’