Bitter Moon

by R. L. Giddings

  *

  When I woke up I was lying on a bed the size of my room at home. A tall jar of lilies stood on the bedside table. Next to it lay my hand bag and a jug of water. From the view through the large picture window I surmised that I was back in the main house. Rain lashed the glass. The sense of being alive filled me with euphoria and I clutched the starched sheets in excitement. There was a fire in the grate making the room feel overly hot so I kicked back the blankets, taking real pleasure in such a simple task.

  My tongue was swollen from where I’d bitten it and I wearing a surgical collar. Looking down, I could see that my left wrist was encased in a heavy plaster cast.

  Sitting up was surprisingly easy but I hadn’t prepared myself for the sudden dizziness. My mind conjured an image of Silas dangling from the side of a helicopter. Had that really happened? If so then what had become of him? Surely, there was no way that he could have survived such a fall. Yet, at the same time, I knew that he’d survived much worse.

  It took a great deal of effort to get myself back on my feet and then the best that I could manage was a kind of shuffle as I propelled myself over to the door. When I got there I had to rest my forehead against the paintwork, breathing in the heavy perfume of the lilies.

  After a while, I was able to open the door.

  There were two women in the corridor sorting sheets. One of them regarded me coolly then walked to the end of the stairs and shouted down.

  “She’s awake.”

  There was the sound of a commotion and then Valeria appeared wearing a smart mustard dress.

  “What are you doing out of bed?” she took my hand and led me back into the room.

  I was too weak to resist. She helped me into bed and then busied herself re-arranging the covers. She poured me a glass of water and watched while I drank it.

  “What are you doing here?” I said.

  “Checking up on you. I heard you’d been fighting with the doctor.”

  “Did I win?”

  “Jury’s still out. How do you feel? Any aches and pains?”

  I moved my head experimentally. “Just my neck really. And this.”

  I raised my cast.

  “Could have been a lot worse.”

  “I suppose. Lovely to see you, though. How did you get up here?”

  “Drove. I was in Manchester when I got the call. Still didn’t manage to beat Kinsella.”

  Kinsella was here!

  After an awkward silence Valeria said, “Millie sends her love.”

  “How is she?”

  “In quite a bit of pain, if I’m honest. She’s got some nasty burns but the big worry is that they’re going to get infected. She’s more concerned about her hair. Lost a whole swathe of it.”

  “That’ll grow back though, surely.”

  Valeria pursed her lips. “You’d hope so, wouldn’t you. But then, considering that she was effectively struck by lightning, she’s gotten off lightly.”

  Struck by lightning and then I’d just abandoned her. I had to be the worst friend in the world.

  “What about the remaining Novices. How are they?”

  “They’re the reason I’m here. I’ve come to put them into protective custody.”

  My eyebrows arched at that but Valeria gestured for my indulgence.

  “I spoke to the women earlier - that’s when I picked up your bag. They’re adamant: they all want to leave.”

  I bet they did. There could be only a handful of them left and they would have all been traumatised by their experiences.

  Valeria continued. “We’re going to support their claims for asylum. I’m meeting someone from the Home Office in a few days. We’re going to try and process their applications as a priority.”

  “That’s very good of you.”

  “Don’t thank me just yet.” She sat down on the corner of the bed. “Of the others, five are in hospital in Inverness. One of them with serious head and neck injuries, another one broke both legs.”

  “What about Kohl’s men?”

  “It’s all a bit confused,” she wrinkled her nose. “But it seems none of them managed to survive.”

  “What! How did they die?”

  “Lady Laing’s house-guests got to them first.”

  I stared at her in mute dismay. The pack had executed them. Silas had warned me about how ruthless they could be but I hadn’t expected this. A shiver went up my back.

  “The guy I was with. Sebastian…”

  Valeria frowned, pursed her lips. “Sebastian?”

  “Young guy. Quite sweet.”

  “Oh, the estate manager,” she looked down at her hands. “No. Sorry. He didn’t make it.”

  A log fell in the fire sending up a shower of sparks.

  “I hardly dare ask. Silas?”

  She covered my hand with hers. “Silas survived but I don’t know anything other than that.”

  “Oh, thank God!” I flopped forward onto the bed. The sense of relief flooding through me.

  *

  After a couple of hours more sleep I was woken by the sound of my door being opened. It was the woman I’d seen in the corridor earlier bringing me some clothes. Unaware that I was awake, she went to put them on a chair but I signalled for her to bring them over to the bed. I thanked her and she left.

  What with my hand in a cast and my strained neck, it took me twenty minutes to get myself dressed. I took my time negotiating the stairs and then followed my nose to the kitchen. One of the kitchen staff offered to cook me a proper meal but I didn’t have the appetite. I cut myself a slice of bread instead, finding some butter in the fridge. Then, when I did sit down, I found that my tongue was so swollen that I couldn’t chew.

  I heard the scuff of shoes approaching from behind but, with my neck effectively immobilised, resisted the urge to turn around. Kinsella looked pale and tough with dark patches under his eyes.

  “Any coffee in this place?” he said.

  “Try the cupboards.”

  The cup-board turned out to be full of other non-perishables but he eventually found a catering sized pack of instant coffee and proceeded to make two cups.

  “So, you didn’t think to contact me?” he said, taking a jug of milk from the fridge.

  “I spoke to Millie. I’m sure she told you all about it.”

  He poured milk into one of the cups and brought it over to me.

  “You’re right, she did. Probably for the best.”

  I hadn’t expected that. “You worried about internal security?”

  He took a sip and nodded.

  “I’ve brought a team with me, Marcus included. Hope you’re okay with that.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Kinsella took the seat opposite. He looked even more tired up close. His jacket was crumpled and he was in urgent need of a shave.

  He leaned towards me, his eyes as dark as ever. “I need you to stand down. I think you’ve done enough.”

  I took a long breath feeling the emotion rising in me.

  “I want to come with you.”

  Kinsella set his jaw.

  I said, “I’m the only one who can identify Kohl.”

  “That’s not the issue. We have plenty of photos.”

  “You’re taking Marcus but you’re not taking me?”

  “It’s not an ‘either or’ deal. Marcus is fresh out of the traps but you… You’ve been through a lot.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re lucky to be alive. Yesterday you were thrown out of a helicopter – good work with that by the way. Lady Antonia told me what happened.”

  “Did she tell you what happened to the bad guys.”

  “Everything.”

  I blanched at that. There are some things I’d rather not know.

  “You need me.”

  “You haven’t been declared fit for duty. You shouldn’t even be here.”

  “They’ve got a doctor on the estate. He could do it.”

  “Bronte, you’ve got a b
roken wrist, for God’s sake. You’re staying put.”

  “Is it because of what happened last night? Am I getting the blame for that?”

  Kinsella took a slow sip of his coffee. “No. You were the one who warned me about keeping the Novices in the same compound as Stahl. You know about Stahl, I take it?”

  I sat up straight, my drink suddenly forgotten. “I do, but what about Anathema? Did she make it?”

  “CCTV was a waste of time. All we got was static.”

  Which meant that she’d escaped. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

  “Look,” I said. “You have to take me with you. I know those women, I can help.”

  But Kinsella had made up his mind. “Valeria has been compiling a dossier on the women who’ve been taken.”

  “And we’re going to get them back?”

  “Bronte, you have my word. I’ll get them back if it’s the last thing I do.”

  Which was kind of reassuring. No clever: “If at all possible” or “If they can be found.” He was totally committed to this, which was odd considering how long he’d quibbled over what to do with them.

  I pushed myself up until I was standing over him. “You still have to let me come.”

  “Why? Because of what happened with Carlotta? Because you feel responsible?”

  “Okay, I admit it. I do want to get Carlotta back. I really do. But what about you? Can you say that you’ve got no personal involvement here? What about Kosi?”

  Kinsella indicated for me to retake my seat.

  “I went over all of these concerns with the Inner Council yesterday.”

  The involvement of the Inner Council in all of this was very troubling. The seven members of the Council would have wanted as much detail as possible about Stahl’s murder and Kinsella’s position would not have been helped by the women’s disappearance. It would have left him open to the criticism. There might even have been the suggestion that he had somehow mishandled the whole affair. In order to survive the inevitable inquiry he would need to act quickly and decisively. Any hesitation would cost him dearly. He wouldn’t be the first leader of The Bear Garden to have his career ended by a routine investigation.

  I thought about this as I took my cup over to the sink. Kinsella said nothing, letting the news sink in. When I finally returned to my seat, the atmosphere had changed.

  “What would you like me to do?” If he wanted me to take the blame for what had happened then I would have been more than happy to do so.

  “I need you to make a full report. Everything from the last few days. Can’t afford to miss anything out.”

  “I understand. There’s just one more thing for you to consider. And it just might change your mind about taking me with you.”

  Kinsella’s expression hardened. “I kind of doubt that.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Once Kinsella had gone I tracked down a paper and pen before settling back down at the kitchen table to write my report. I’d only been at it for a few minutes when I realised how cold I had gotten just sitting there. There was a draft coming from down the corridor so I got up to close the door.

  Through the gap, I could see through to the rear entrance. The door was wide open so I went to go and shut it. It was only as I drew level that I saw the Range Rovers parked outside. I counted six of them. Company vehicles.

  Then a heavy-set figure carrying a set of jump leads appeared and my suspicions were confirmed. He had his head down and so didn’t notice me immediately. It was only as I moved back out of his way that he looked up. His thick glasses had slipped down his nose so that he had to tilt his head back to look at me properly.

  Dominic Szabo.

  “Oh,” he said, surprised. “Hello Bronte.”

  “Hello Dominic. What are you lot doing here?”

  He looked around as if someone else might provide the answer. “Oh, you know. Stuff.”

  “Kinsella’s just gone if that’s who you’re looking for.”

  He appeared to relax at the mention of the name.

  “No, that’s okay. How are you though?” He indicated my neck collar. “Heard you’d had a bit of a torrid time of it.”

  I shrugged, “Can’t complain.”

  He picked up the box and gave me one of those ‘Well, got to get on,’ faces and disappeared into the house. Although he hadn’t said anything he didn’t really have to. His presence alone was enough to tell me all I needed to know. If The Dark Team were involved then Kinsella was leaving nothing to chance.

  I stepped outside, the sun was already starting to disappear in the West, transforming the clouds into long, purple snow drifts. The air felt wonderfully clear and fresh after having been cooped up inside all day. I stood and admired the sunset, feeling slightly reproachful of myself over the day I had lost. I looked around, hoping to catch sight of a fellow smoker. I hadn’t had a cigarette all day and I could sure use one. There were a number of people in the process of unpacking the Range Rovers but none of them looked like smokers.

  “Bronte, is that you?”

  It was Marcus. He was dressed in the same one-piece boiler suit he’d been wearing back at the church. He viewed me with a combination of puzzlement and concern. I hated myself for thinking it but there was so denying the fact that I still found him attractive.

  “Kinsella said you were here.”

  “Well,” he gave me a broad smile. “Someone has to clean up your mess.”

  I couldn’t work out whether he was being sarcastic or not. “Nice to see you too.”

  “We’re just off to pick up the girls from the cabins. They’ll be safer up here.”

  “Do you want me to come with you? They might be a little sensitive around strangers after what happened.”

  “They’ve been told to expect us. Besides,” he indicated my cast. “You look like you’ve been in the wars. Are you sure you should even be out here?”

  “I’m fine.”

  We stood like that for a moment, neither of us knowing what to say next.

  “Has he brought the whole Dark Team or just the chosen few?”

  He adjusted his combat webbing, suddenly uncomfortable. “We’re not supposed to discuss it.”

  I was taken aback. “Sorry? You’re not meant to discuss it with me.”

  “Kinsella’s orders.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  “I’ve been involved in this every step of the way.”

  “And how far has that gotten us? At least Helena knew when to quit.”

  “So that’s it. You think I’m the problem – that I caused all this.”

  “Well, who was the one who brought them up here in the first place?”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “But that’s what people will say. Kinsella’s under a lot of pressure to turn this around. How many of them were snatched? Twenty four?”

  I made a quick mental calculation. “Twenty five, including Carlotta.”

  “A group that size is bound to slow him down. You never know: they might even find a way of alerting us to their location.”

  “Kohl’s very resourceful. Don’t make the mistake of under-estimating him.”

  “We’ve got a Pyromancer and a couple of Battle Mages with us. Trust me: we’re not under-estimating him.”

  “He’s well financed and well resourced. Everything he does is meticulously planned. At the university he knew exactly how to subvert our security so that he could get in and out again before we could mount a significant response. The other night was the same: the werewolves didn’t know what had hit them.”

  “We’ll find him.”

  “Yeah, you’ll go in mob-handed, all guns blazing and you know what?”

  “What?”

  “He’ll be expecting you.”

  “And how would you know?”

  “You forget, I’ve been up against him twice now.”

  “Yeah, and you’ve lost both times.”

  “And where were you, Marcus? Where w
ere you back in London? Have you noticed something: whenever things start kicking off you have the uncanny knack of being somewhere else.”

  I regretted it as soon as I’d said it. I could see the colour bloom in his cheeks. I’d clearly given voice to something he’d been ruminating over for some time. He looked like he wanted to kill me.

  “You’ve turned into a very bitter woman, Bronte. Kinsella’s had to take a lot of flak about you in the last few months and now you go and pull a stunt like this. We’re trying to be professional about this. We’re the ones working as a team. But those rules don’t seem to apply to you, do they? You seem to think that you can do whatever you like. Well, think about that later when you’re sitting on the side-lines twiddling your thumbs.”

  I couldn’t trust myself to say anything so I didn’t. I turned to walk away, but he wasn’t finished yet.

  “Hey, Bronte. Don’t feel so bad. This kind of work isn’t for everyone. I’m sure they’ve still got a place for you back at the library.”

  I went back into the house and carefully pulled the door closed behind me. I decided I wasn’t going to let him get to me like that and, besides, I still had a report to finish.

  But Marcus’ comments had hit home. Was that how people saw me? As a difficult, self-centred, pain-in-the-ass who no one could work with? I shouldn’t have cared what Marcus thought of me. Only I did. I felt like I’d let everyone down: the Novices, Millie, Carlotta, Kosi, everyone.

  I was angry. Angry at the way those women had been tricked into coming to England. Angry at the way they’d been treated, not just by Stahl but by us as well. And I was angry at Kohl for reducing them to a simple commodity. Portable Blood Bags he could use as and when he wished. The more I thought about it, the more adamant I was that I was going to see this thing through to the end.

  *

  The temptation, when writing the report, might have been to gloss over certain sections, or even leave them out entirely. I can be quite self-critical and – in the mood I was in – I wasn’t about to spare myself. I was aware as I was writing it that it would be very easy for someone to use the details to undermine me. To suggest that I had acted irrationally. But it was true. I had allowed Anathema to slip through my fingers. I had failed to communicate the details of our location to my superior. I had broken the rules. So many, in fact, that it was difficult to see how I could ever recover from this professionally. Yet, at the same time, I knew that the details of the report would be circulated to all the members of the team and - in any encounter with Kohl - the tiniest detail could make the difference between a good outcome and a poor one.