by Tom Becker
“What are you doing?” he hissed. “This is the guy who’s been chasing after me, remember? Now you want to go up to his flat?”
Carnegie nodded at the receding figure of Vendetta. “Doesn’t look like he’s too bothered with you now, boy. You can get out of here any time you want. Me, I’m going to see what he’s up to.”
The wereman walked away, the sound of throat-clearing echoing around the garage. Jonathan stood on his own for a few seconds, tapping his foot with consternation, before racing after him. He caught the lift doors just as they were closing and squeezed inside, ensuring that Carnegie was between him and Vendetta. The four of them were sandwiched together uncomfortably as the lift rose to the top floor, before disgorging them inside the penthouse suite.
Jonathan found himself standing in a spacious split-level flat with polished wooden floorboards. Heavy shutters guarded the windows, preventing even the faintest beam of sunlight from slipping inside. Here and there were light bulbs on thin black stands – without lampshades to soften their glow, they burned with a piercing white light. Save for a few chairs, a low table and a giant television screen, there were barely any furnishings. No paintings or mirrors hung on the whitewashed walls. As in the limousine, there was an antiseptic atmosphere that Jonathan found more unpleasant than the smell of grime and raw meat that clogged the air in Carnegie’s lodgings. It reminded him of the hospital where he used to visit his dad. But, for all his misgivings, he knew that the flat must have been worth millions.
Carnegie looked around the austere surroundings and scratched his cheek thoughtfully.
“Very . . . clean,” he sniffed.
Vendetta inclined his head, as though receiving a compliment. “I still have business to conduct in Lightside, and I am accustomed to a certain level of comfort. Of course, it is not the Heights, but it suffices.”
Prising open the shutters, Jonathan saw a balcony looking out over the grim, grey swirls of the Thames.
“Nice view,” he said.
“By night,” the vampire replied curtly, snapping the shutters closed. He turned round, fixing Bartlemas with a steely glare. “You have the Wheel. The moonstone is in the room next door. Why are you still here?”
The watchmaker nodded, and hurried off into the adjoining room.
Carnegie wiped his nose on his sleeve. “So what do we do now?”
“We wait,” Vendetta said.
The vampire picked up a remote control and turned on his television, the giant plasma screen displaying a bright, bustling newsroom. A smartly dressed woman was addressing the camera.
“And now we return to our main story – the disturbances at the Greenwich Observatory earlier this afternoon. Eyewitnesses have reported gunshots and a sudden eclipse. Joining us now is Detective Horace Carmichael from the Metropolitan Police Force. Detective Carmichael, can you shed any light on today’s bizarre events?”
Jonathan blinked. There in the television studio, looking uneasy in the glare of the spotlights, was the familiar face of the hunchbacked detective.
“Obviously it’s early days,” Carmichael began, “and we’re still collecting statements, but our initial enquiries are strongly suggesting that this was some sort of prank – possibly a group of environmental activists trying to gain some publicity for their cause.”
“So you’re not taking the reports of gunfire seriously, then?” the newsreader pressed.
“We take any disturbance of this nature seriously,” Carmichael replied, “and the Metropolitan Police will be investigating this further, but it’s important to stress to the public that we think this is the work of a few misguided individuals, rather than anything more sinister.”
“Thank you, Detective. Now, in other news. . .”
Carnegie snorted. “Lightsiders. If they stuck their heads in the sand any deeper, they’d get it between their toes.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Jonathan said slowly. “I’ve met Carmichael before, remember? He wasn’t like other policemen. Don’t you remember what happened after we carried out the robbery in Kensington? Carmichael said they’d caught the people who did it, but they never mentioned us once. It’s like he was covering it up.”
“For once, Starling’s right,” Vendetta said. “It’s not in everyone’s interests for Darkside to become public knowledge, Carnegie. Although it may take a little more subtlety than you have at your disposal to understand why.”
“Subtlety is overrated,” Carnegie shot back.
For a few seconds a challenge hung in the air, until Vendetta chuckled hollowly and went to pour himself a glass of mineral water. Carnegie stomped out on to the balcony, where he spent the next few hours moodily watching the Thames trudge by. Jonathan tried to lose himself watching television, but he couldn’t relax with the vampire in the room. Despite Carnegie’s apparent lack of concern, Jonathan couldn’t shake the suspicion that at any second Vendetta might attack him.
It was a relief when Bartlemas finally came scurrying back into the room, sleeves rolled up and hands covered in grease.
“It is ready!” he exclaimed.
“And not before time,” Vendetta snapped. “You are sure it will work?”
“As sure as I can be,” Bartlemas replied. “But I cannot be certain until we go to James’s grave.”
“I’ve never tried to bring the dead back to life before,” Carnegie began pointedly, “but wouldn’t it be a good idea to test that Wheel first?”
“We cannot test it,” Bartlemas protested. “We have only so much. . .” The watchmaker broke off.
A shiver of premonition ran down Jonathan’s spine.
“Only so much what?” he asked, in a small voice. “You said there were two things needed to make the Wheel work. What was the second? Why were you on Lightside, Vendetta?”
Bartlemas’s eyes glinted. “You have to understand, Jonathan – this watch needs a power that goes beyond coils and cogs. A deeper, more elemental power than engineering alone can provide. That was the secret of my grandfather’s invention, why no one else could get it to work.”
Carnegie’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”
“The watch reverses life,” Vendetta said matter-of-factly. “To do so, it needs a life of its own. It needs to be oiled with blood.” He turned and smiled at Jonathan. “And, given the very special circumstances, very special blood. Specifically, that of a half-Darksider.”
Jonathan’s heart sank.
“You wanted the boy,” Carnegie said hoarsely. “That’s why you were so pleased to see us.”
Vendetta nodded slowly. “I’ll admit, I did pay a visit to the boy’s school when I first crossed over. Half-breeds are a rarity, and I didn’t have the time to cast my net around. As luck would have it, however, I found another solution. Come with me.”
The vampire turned on his heel and led them down a long corridor to a heavy iron door barricaded with three planks of wood.
“As I mentioned earlier, I do conduct a lot of business in Lightside. I have found it expedient to make some special . . . alterations to the flat.” Vendetta smiled. “You never know when you might have guests.”
He lifted off the planks and pushed open the door. Jonathan crept forward, his heart pounding, into a circular room. Two flaming torches faced each other, their flickering tongues of light brushing across a dark chasm that lay in the centre of the floor between them. Taken aback by the medieval scene, Jonathan had to remind himself that he was still in modern London.
He inched forward to the edge of the pit and peered cautiously over the edge, nervous that some kind of foul creature was chained up there. Instead, he was stunned to see a bedraggled girl in her school uniform slumped at the bottom. She looked up at the sound of his footsteps, and suddenly everything became horribly clear.
“Tell me, Starling,” Vendetta said pleasantly. “Have you met Kate?”
> 21
For two days, Kate Riley had fled from one nightmare to the next, pursued through her unconscious by Vendetta. She saw the vampire’s incisors glinting in the darkness, heard his mocking laughter at her repeated prayers that this couldn’t be happening to her. Everywhere she turned, in the murky, shifting landscapes of her dreams, he was there.
Finally, Kate woke up. There was a sour taste in her mouth, and she had a pounding headache. Lifting her head from the stone floor, she saw that she was lying at the bottom of a pit. High above her head she could see two burning torches, but their light failed to penetrate the depths of the pit. Kate shivered. The room was deathly cold.
“Hello?” she called out timidly, unsure whether or not she wanted a reply. “Is anyone there?”
Silence.
As the reality of her situation hit home, Kate could feel her chest tighten with dread. In an effort to stay calm, she took a series of long, deep breaths. Panicking wasn’t going to get her anywhere. At least she was alive. When Vendetta had closed in on her in the technology workshop, she had thought she was done for. The important thing now was getting out of the pit. It was nearly twice as deep as she was tall, and the walls were hopelessly smooth – there were no helpful handholds enabling her to climb out. Vendetta appeared to have taken away her school bag, and her mobile phone with it. Kate was totally trapped.
She wondered where she was – whether she was even still in London. Her parents would be frantic with worry: had they gone to the police, or organized search parties? Thinking of her parents made Kate feel vulnerable again, and she hurriedly turned her mind to something else. Wherever she was, surely someone had to be in earshot.
“HELP!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, until she felt dizzy. “HELP!”
After a couple of minutes, a door creaked open and she heard soft footsteps approach the pit. Kate’s stomach lurched with fear.
“Who’s . . . who’s there?” she said.
An object came flying down towards her from out of the gloom. Kate screamed and shielded her face with her hands, only to see a water bottle bounce harmlessly at her feet. She heard a man chuckle.
“I thought you might need some refreshment,” Vendetta’s voice floated down. “Screaming is such thirsty work. By all means continue. This flat is soundproofed – the only person who’ll hear is me, and I find the sound rather soothing.”
“Why am I here?” Kate asked warily. “What do you want with me?”
“All in good time, girl. You’ll see soon enough.”
The footsteps retreated from the room, and Kate was alone once more. She resumed her search for a way out with renewed vigour, but it was hopeless. She banged the walls with her fists in frustration, and slumped back to the floor. She felt weary, and her head still hurt, but there wasn’t enough room in the pit to stretch out comfortably. Instead she sat back and waited, rationing her sips of water. There wasn’t any food to eat, but that didn’t matter – Kate was too tense to feel hungry.
Down in the pit, time began to lose all meaning. Eventually the door creaked open again, and she heard someone enter the room. This time, when she looked up into the flickering torchlight, she saw the shocked face of Jonathan Starling staring back at her.
“Kate?” he asked incredulously. “Are you all right?”
Not trusting herself to answer without bursting into tears, she nodded numbly. Jonathan looked back towards the doorway, his voice hard.
“What she’s doing down there?”
“I’ve already told you,” Vendetta replied, an undertow of amusement in his voice. “I went to your school to find you, only to have the unexpected pleasure of making Kate’s acquaintance. Given that she’s a half-Darksider too, I thought I’d use her instead. Really, Starling, I should have thought this would be good news for you.”
“She’s a what?”
Suddenly Vendetta appeared at the rim of the pit. He gestured down towards Kate.
“A half-Darksider – can’t you sense it? Can’t you hear the blood pounding in her veins, struggling to get free? The crashing waves of your own turbulent heritage? The sound echoes in my ears, Starling.”
As Kate struggled to comprehend what was going on, Jonathan squared up to the vampire. If the boy was intimidated, he hid it well.
“I don’t care what you think she is – get her out of there, now.”
The room echoed to the sound of Vendetta’s mocking laughter. “I’m not sure you’re in a position to be giving me orders, Starling. I will do exactly what I want with the girl, whether you like it or not.”
“The watch,” Jonathan said suddenly, in a quiet voice. “You’re going to use her. . .” His voice trailed off, and he looked away from Kate.
“What?” she called out, her voice cracking. “You’re going to use my what?”
“Let her go,” Jonathan said firmly. “Take me instead.”
Vendetta raised an eyebrow. “What an interesting suggestion! I can’t pretend using you wouldn’t give me more satisfaction, although I did promise Kate. . . Come to think of it, seeing as you’re both currently guests of mine, I might as well take the pair of you. I can make up my mind on the way.”
Kate jumped as a loud snarl rang out above her head, and a large man with something animal about him pushed his way in front of Jonathan and pointed at the vampire. He spoke in a low, gravelly voice that grated with menace.
“If you think I’m going to let either of them come to harm, you’d better think again.”
“More threats,” Vendetta sighed. “It seems you and the boy can’t let a minute pass without some kind of blustering warning. Let me assure you of one thing – we are travelling to James’s grave this evening, and one of them is going to power the watch. Perhaps we should discuss this next door?”
The unkempt man stomped angrily out of the room, followed by Vendetta. Kate looked up in desperation at Jonathan as he lingered at the edge of the pit.
“We’ll get you out of this, Kate – I promise.”
“Don’t leave me in here! Please!”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. You’re safe for now.”
With that, Jonathan disappeared from view.
“PLEASE!” Kate screamed, but the only reply was the faltering of the torches as the door slammed shut and the thud of the planks as they were lifted back into place across it. Kate fell to the floor, and this time she couldn’t stop the tears from coming.
They returned for her later, by which time she had managed to compose herself. Jonathan’s face reappeared at the edge of the pit, his large, bristling companion at his shoulder. The man dangled the end of a rope down towards her.
“Wrap it under your arms and I’ll lift you up,” he barked.
Kate did as she was told just in time, finishing the knot as the rope bit into her armpits and she was jerked into the air. The man hauled her hand-over-hand up to the lip of the pit, whereupon Jonathan reached out to guide her on to solid ground. Kate caught her breath as they untied the rope, feeling as though she could breathe properly for the first time in days. A hand touched her on the shoulder.
“My name’s Carnegie,” the man growled. “Can you walk?”
Kate nodded. She was so relieved to be out of the pit that she could have kissed his weathered face. “Where are we going?”
There came a polite cough from the doorway. Kate turned and saw Vendetta leaning against the door frame. The vampire was carrying a snub-nosed pistol, which was pointed straight at Jonathan’s heart.
“He can tell you in the car,” Vendetta said. “It’s dark now. We haven’t got time to waste.”
They were marched out of the flat and down to an underground car park, where a spindly old man was waiting for them by a limousine. Vendetta ordered them into the back of the car with the new man, who, Kate couldn’t help but notice, guiltily refused to meet her eye
. There was a heavy click as the doors locked shut, and then the vampire’s voice buzzed over the intercom.
“I thought I’d take the front seat this time,” he said breezily. “Do make yourself at home.”
Jonathan and Carnegie exchanged a dark look.
“I told you we should have made a break for it,” the boy said, rattling the door lock futilely. “I don’t understand why we’re still here.”
“We had to get the girl free before we could try to escape,” Carnegie growled. “I don’t understand why you’re so confused.”
“Well, I don’t understand anything.” Kate laughed incredulously. “Do you think you could tell me what’s going on – please?”
And so, as the limousine drove over Tower Bridge and through the city centre of London, Jonathan told her – a dizzying, impossible tale of fantastical creatures and dark secrets rendered even more incredible by the fact that Kate could look out of the car window at the late-night shoppers hurrying past familiar London landmarks, blissfully unaware of the world that was being described.
When Jonathan had finished, Kate sat back in her seat, overwhelmed.
“Listen,” he said. “I’m really sorry you got dragged into this.”
“It’s my fault, not yours,” Kate said ruefully. “I was the one who started sticking my nose in.”
“Believe me, if Vendetta’s right about you being half-Darksider, you can’t help it. I was just the same.”
“I guess,” Kate shrugged. “He seems pretty sure about me, anyway.”
“How are you finding it so far?”
Kate pretended to think about it. “So far? To be honest – not that great.”
