“Do you know where this place is?” Will asked.
“I think so. There's an abandoned nuclear shelter there; that's probably where we're headed.”
“There's a nuclear bunker in Edinburgh?”
“Yeah, they had places like that all over the country, in every major metropolitan city, but they haven't been a secret for years now. I think this one has been badly vandalised over the years.”
Though unmarked, Will's car came equipped with lights and a siren that he turned on once they joined the main road, heading back to the Edinburgh by-pass.
“I thought you said no sirens?” Frankie noted.
“We're the other side of town; it'll take us forever to get close if I don't use them.”
Frankie didn't argue. She considered calling Dante, but she knew that he would only do something stupid and get himself hurt if he knew where Pietro was, so she decided against it.
“Your men won't know what they're facing,” Frankie told Will. “You can't send them in there.”
“I know,” he agreed.
“They can't protect themselves against magic.”
“I know.”
“They'll be sitting ducks.”
“I know!” he snapped.
“All right, sorry,” she placated him. Will rarely lost his temper. “So... Can I ask what you're going to tell them?”
“You can ask.” His knuckles were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel.
“So?”
“I don't know,” he admitted. “Can't you order them to stay out? Take over the investigation or something?”
“If you want,” she sounded surprised. “But it'll take me a few minutes to get the authorisations in place.”
“Why are you offering me a choice?” Will asked as he glanced at her.
Frankie shrugged in reply.
“Come on, Frankie, MI5 aren't known for their diplomacy; what's going on?”
“First of all, we don't want our name on this if we can help it...”
“And second of all?”
Frankie swallowed but didn't answer immediately.
“Frankie?”
“I don't want to overrule you in front of your colleagues, okay?” she snapped.
“That's... very considerate of you,” he said, meaning it.
“Look, I'm new to this whole friendship thing, okay?” She looked uncomfortable. “I'm not too sure what the limits are.”
“Choice is always good,” Will smiled.
“So what's your answer?” she asked.
“I'll handle it,” he assured her.
Frankie was doubtful but she didn't question him any further.
As they approached Clermiston Road, Will turned the siren off. Two minutes later he turned right as Frankie pointed to a narrow access road, which was blocked about twenty feet in by a barrier. There was a parking area before the barrier, with half a dozen other vehicles already parked, that Will pulled into. As soon as he got out, the officers in the other cars did too.
“Status?” Will asked.
A uniformed officer stepped forward.
“We've got a problem, Sir, the building is badly fire-damaged and full of asbestos.”
“What are you saying?” Will asked.
“We can't go in until we have protective breathing gear. Its on it's way now.”
“How long?” Will asked.
“Twenty minutes,”
Will was actually relieved.
“Fine, you wait here, Ms. Wright and I are going to scout the area.”
“Sir?”
“Wait here,” Will ordered. “Don't venture further in until I return, got it?”
“Yes, Sir.”
The officers all stared as Frankie and Will walked along the access road. They were silent until they had rounded the corner and were out of sight.
“That's it,” Frankie said as the buildings came into sight.
All Will could see was some graffitied one-story structures.
“It's underground?” he guessed.
“Yup. Do you still have those chains on?”
Will nodded and held his wrists out for her to see the chains there.
“All of them?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Frankie stopped as they neared an entrance, through which she could see a long flight of stairs leading down.
“You don't have to come,” she assured him, pausing just outside.
“I'm coming.”
“There is asbestos down there,” she reminded him.
“I'm still coming.”
Frankie considered arguing with him but decided that it would only be a waste of time.
“Okay.” She stepped towards the opening.
“Wait.” Will grabbed her arm. “I'm the one who's protected against magic, maybe you should stay out here.”
“His spell didn't work on me, remember?”
“Maybe, but that doesn't mean that no spell will work on you.”
“I'm going.”
Will didn't argue, knowing that it would be futile, so side by side they headed down the steps into the bunker.
Chapter Nineteen
As they reached the bottom, they realised that there was no natural light. While they still had light from the entrance, Frankie raided her handbag and brought out a small maglight.
“Don't suppose you have a spare in there?” Will whispered.
“Sorry,” she answered, handing him the torch. He went to turn it on but Frankie stopped him saying, “Wait.”
She closed her eyes and stretched out with her mind.
“Someone's here,” she said softly. “They're about a hundred metres away and down a few floors.”
They proceeded on in silence along a corridor. The floors were littered with debris and holes making the journey treacherous. They tried to be as quiet as they could, but making some noise was unavoidable.
Will shon the light on the floor in front of them and into each room that they passed. The paint on the walls was peeling and they were badly soot-stained, water-damaged and graffitied, giving the place an even creepier feel than it had naturally, if that was possible.
They found some stairs and headed down, pausing on each floor so that Frankie could see if Pietro was on that level. Finally she nodded; this was the right level. She reached up and whispered in his ear.
“I'll let you know when we're close, then I'll need you to hood the torch light.”
Will nodded his understanding and Frankie withdrew her gun from her purse.
They proceeded carefully and as quietly as possible. There was lots of massive machinery on this level left from the cold war era, including generators and an air filtration system. There was less debris down here but the floor was still riddled with holes, possibly where air ducts or pipes had once passed through.
After about seventy paces, Frankie touched Will's arm and he hooded the light with his fingers, giving them just enough light to see immediately in front of them. It was unavoidable that they would be discovered really, since any light in this darkness would be visible and just as they could make out a faint glow from what looked like candle light from one of the doors ahead, Pietro could surely see their torch light.
Though she still couldn't see him, Frankie heard him begin to chant.
“What's he saying?” Will asked.
“I don't know, I can't speak Italian,” she snapped. They hurried closer as quickly as they dared, Will no longer bothering to try and shield the torch light.
They both felt the wave of power wash over them, but while it caused Frankie to stagger back a step, it didn't knock either of them down.
“Witchcraft?” Will asked.
“Yeah.”
They heard a roar of anger followed by more frantic chanting, and quickened their pace as much as they dared. Seconds later Frankie grabbed her head and groaned in pain.
“What's wrong?”
“It's him,” she answered, pushing through the pain and continui
ng on.
“You okay?” he asked, worried about her.
“I'm fine,” she said through clenched teeth.
Will kept pace with her and they carried on towards their target. Another shout came from the room and what sounded like Italian profanities. The voice soon died away though, and they slowed their pace as they neared the door, expecting an attack. The doorway wouldn't allow two through at a time so using hand signals, Frankie managed to convey to Will that he was to shine the torch into the room as she stepped in. Her headache seemed to have gone, and she placed her bag on the floor so that she could hold the gun in both hands.
Will held the torch high over Frankie's head as she crouched in the doorway, her gun aimed into the room as she looked around. The candle light was just enough to see by but it also left deep shadows, which Will tried to shine the torch onto. Still, Pietro wasn't revealed and they had no choice but to step into the room and search it.
The room seemed to have been cleaned a little, with its debris piled up against the walls. There were also a lot of new boxes around the room, which Frankie assumed was Pietro's equipment.
She kept low as she entered and Will shone the light wherever she looked, unfortunately it wasn't enough. Pietro must have circled around one of the piles of boxes and came at Will from behind, striking him over the head. He fell to the floor and the torch went clattering out of his hand, going out as it hit the concrete floor.
Frankie turned just as Pietro said “Oscurità,” causing the candle flames to extinguish, plunging the room into pitch darkness. He struck her gun hand, and she felt the weapon fall from her grasp and heard it slide across the floor. She considered looking for it, but she knew that didn't stand a chance of finding it without any light.
Frankie heard Pietro head towards the door but he was as blind as she was, and tripped and fell. Frankie had a sense neither of the others did though; her psychic sense. Everything that had been handled by a human gave off faint psychic impressions, and she closed her eyes and tried to see them. She could 'see' Will and Pietro clearly in her mind's eye, but the other objects in the room were much less clear. Still, she managed to manoeuvre around most of them and punch Pietro in the kidneys as he climbed to his feet.
He turned, striking out at her but she had stepped away, using the dark to her advantage.
Of course she realised that the one object that was most dangerous, namely the floor, was invisible to her since people rarely touched it with their hands. Still, she reasoned that by staying close to the centre of the room, she would probably be safe enough.
She struck Pietro again, but this time he managed to strike her before she could pull away and she fell to the floor, as did Pietro. She couldn't be certain, but she thought that she was now between Pietro and the door.
Just then Will managed the coax the maglight back to life and Frankie opened her eyes, blinking against what felt like blinding sunlight for a few moments. She got to her feet just in time to see Pietro rushing at her. She cut him off with a kick to his knee, and she could hear the bone crunch as he howled in pain and fell back to the floor.
He began to speak in Italian again, so before he could cast another spell, Frankie straddled his chest, grabbed a handful of his hair and slammed his head into the concrete.
“Wow,” Will said, having watched her display but been unable to do anything to help her.
Frankie checked to make sure Pietro was unconscious before looking over at her friend.
“Are you okay?” she asked. He was behind the torch, so she was unable to see his features.
“Yeah, I just have the hangover from hell.”
“Trust me, so will he,” Frankie assured him. She got up and took the torch from him, using it to examine the back of his head where he'd been struck. “You're bleeding.”
“I'll live,” he assured her.
“Did you pass out?”
“I don't think so.”
Frankie didn't like that answer but she accepted it. She shone the torch on her watch and was surprised to find that it was nearly sunset. It had taken them longer than she had realised to make their way down here.
She went to her bag in the hallway and got her phone out to call Dante.
“The sun is nearly down,” he informed her as he answered. “You can't keep me out of this for much longer.
“I don't plan to,” she answered. “I've got him.”
“Is he dead?”
“No, just unconscious.”
“Where are you?”
Frankie explained and Dante told her he'd be there in five minutes. Frankie put her phone away and went over to Will to check his head again. Thankfully the wound seemed to have stopped bleeding.
“Why'd you call him?” Will asked as Frankie helped him to his feet.
“Because this is his demon, he needs to finish it.”
“Whoa!” Will pulled away and looked appalled. “You're going to let Dante kill him?”
“What do you suggest?” Frankie asked. She didn't like that option, but she honestly couldn't deny Dante his vengeance. “You saw those women earlier and they weren't his first victims, he deserves this. Besides, do you really think that any prison can hold him?”
“Frankie!” Will couldn't really argue her points, but he still didn't think that either she or Dante had the right to play judge, jury and executioner.
“Will, this has been going on for three hundred years.”
“Surely you must have dealt with things like this before!”
Frankie had, of course, but she didn't want to admit that to Will. They stood there in silence for a few minutes until Dante suddenly appeared in the room, making them both jump.
“Well you didn't gift wrap him, but it's still the best present I've had in a while,” Dante teased, ignoring the tension in the room.
“I thought that you deserved to be the one to kill him,” Frankie said, keen to get this over with.
“And what makes you think I'm going to kill him?” Dante asked, raising an eyebrow.
Frankie hadn't really thought about it, she had just assumed after seeing how Alex and Josh handled problems, that Dante would be the same.
“After what he did to you?” Frankie couldn't quite believe that Dante didn't want him dead.
“There are worse things than death,” Dante said with a smile that chilled Will to his core.
Dante knelt down beside Pietro's unconscious form and slapped his face a few times to wake him up.
“Is that wise?” Will asked.
“Don't worry,” Dante assured him. “His mind is completely under my control.”
Pietro blinked as he opened his eyes and Dante stepped away as Pietro got to his feet, his expression completely blank.
“What are you doing?” Frankie asked.
“Getting some answers,” Dante said. “Why did you come after me again?” Dante asked. Pietro answered in Italian.
“What did he say?” Frankie asked.
“He said that he's been ageing quickly for the past three years. He doesn't know what went wrong with the spell, but he believes that by repeating it, he can stop himself ageing again.”
Dante sighed as he considered the man before him for a few moments.
“What are you going to do?” Frankie asked.
“I was thinking, perhaps a persistent vegetative state,” Dante confesses. “That way he can be aware of what's happening around him but unable to interact with the world at all.”
“He can still do magic,” Frankie reminded him. “He doesn't need to speak the words to cast a spell.”
“Oh, I'd remove all that knowledge obviously, and without the means to relearn it, he'll be trapped; even more helpless than a kitten. How does that sound?” He turned to Will.
Will grunted something that sounded like acceptance and Dante turned back to Pietro.
“Come on,” Frankie said to Will. “We should get that head wound seen to.”
“Don't forget your gun,” Dante said, thoug
h he didn't look away from Pietro.
Frankie used the torch and quickly found it, then headed out of the room with Will.
“Can you leave him on the floor when you're finished?” she asked. “And make sure you aren't seen on your way out?”
“Of course,” he said, not turning to look at her.
Frankie hesitated for another moment, unsure what she was waiting for exactly, then she and Will left him to it.
Frankie didn't get home for another few hours, since the police needed her statement. She didn't have to talk to the police, of course, but she was happy to if it made Will's life easier. She told them the truth, on the whole, simply saying that MI5's interest in Pietro was a matter of national security.
She knew that Pietro's head wound would be blamed for his altered mental state but given his crimes, she was confident that she wouldn't face any trouble over it. She was also happy for the police to take full responsibility for stopping him, which pleased Will's boss no end.
Will was still busy by the time she was finished, so she said a quick goodbye and caught a cab home.
The house was dark when she arrived home and for a moment she wondered if her parents had left. Their coats were hanging up by the door however, so she assumed that they were still out at dinner.
She was dog-tired as she headed into the kitchen but she still had a report to write for MI5. She looked to the cabinet where her whisky was stored, knowing that it would pep her up.
She turned the kettle on instead but coffee wasn't what she really wanted. She pulled her coat off and hung it on a kitchen chair as she debated whether to have a drink or not.
One drink wouldn't hurt, she reasoned, and she had nowhere else to go tonight, so she wouldn't be driving. One couldn't hurt, could it?
She poured herself a very healthy measure and downed it in one go, enjoying the warmth that spread throughout her body as the amber liquid slipped down her throat. She let out a long sigh of relief as she placed the glass back on the side, and tried not to think of her promise to Will.
She shook her head, as though she could shake those niggling thoughts away, then headed through to the living room to start writing her report. When she had finished, she headed upstairs and ran a hot bath. Thanks to the en-suite bathroom, her parents hadn't used this one, and she could relax knowing that she wouldn't be assaulted by any stray psychic impressions.
Past Life Page 17
