Fethillen ducked through the door and stopped, hands on her hips. “Looks like he’s been here a while. He’s useless. Toss him out.”
Sushel hefted the body and hauled him outside. As he passed, Katelina had a momentary view of blood stained clothing and what looked like a mummified face stretched thin and freeze dried, mouth open and eyes closed.
She turned away. “Oh God. Who is it?”
“Probably one of the culprits.” Fethillen kicked a chunk of plaster angrily. “Insurgents, terrorists, rebels, whatever you want to call them, they look for hideouts, and where they go officials follow. I do not know who is in the right and I don’t care. Their unrest does not concern me and their causes don’t interest me, I care only when they take something from me.”
Micah and Loren grudgingly offered to help with repairs, and soon the building was patched enough to make it safe. Or so Katelina hoped.
Sushel dragged their prisoner inside and Fethillen fired questions at him in different languages. Katelina couldn’t see what was happening in the dark, but the prisoner’s silence soon turned to grunts and then to screams. Finally, he broke.
“I don’t know! We were supposed to go to China, then the message came and said to go to India instead! But Cyprus changed his mind and we came back.”
“Why?” Fethillen demanded.
The prisoner didn’t answer and Oren asked from the darkness, “Why don’t you let Jorick read his mind?”
“I appreciate the offer,” Fethillen said. “But I prefer to hear his answers myself.”
In other words she didn’t trust Jorick to tell her the truth.
The screams came again and Katelina covered her ears and buried her face against Jorick. She tried to tell herself what Jorick had said about torturing vampires, but it was hard to believe with the pain so close.
Fethillen repeated the question and finally their prisoner choked out, “I don’t know! They don’t tell me! I’m no one!”
“Where are they now? India?”
“I don’t know.” There was another scream and then he stuttered out, “Since they took a prisoner they might have gone to the secret oasis.”
“And where is the secret oasis?”
“Namibia!” He shrieked. “It’s in Namibia!”
Namibia. But that was where… “Malick’s in Namibia!” Katelina cried.
“Yes,” the prisoner sobbed. “Please, please. I can take you to the oasis.”
“Good, then you may live. Now explain, what is Malick to the Children of Shadows?”
“He is Cyprus’ master.” The prisoner panted. “He…he came to us first, but the Father refused to follow him. He is a murderer! He killed Memnon!”
“Then why are you following him now?”
“We didn’t mean to. No one knew. We thought Cyprus was alone; independent. Then we…we caught him speaking to Malick and demanded to know. He finally admitted it and there was talk of revolt but it’s Malick, not Cyprus, who can bring Memnon back, and so if Memnon is to be restored we have no choice. Cyprus is our leader, he commands us, but Malick—Malick commands Cyprus.”
So Cyprus and Ronnell hadn’t left Malick at all. It just looked that way.
There was a terrible scream and Fethillen hissed, “If you didn’t know you were following him then how do you know where his headquarters are?”
“The spies found it,” he panted. “The spies! We were going to war with him, with Malick. The Father… After Malick came to us, the Father was angry, he said we would get revenge for Memnon. But not now. Now we need his power and when Memnon is reborn he will destroy Malick!”
“Do you think so?” Fethillen asked. “If Malick is your leader why doesn’t he admit to it? Why isn’t he in the videos?”
“I…I don’t know!”
“Why are you sending videos at all?”
“It was Cyprus’ idea, I think, but I don’t know why. I swear.” There was a long, loud groan, and he gasped out, “I don’t know! I swear! Please.”
He broke into sobs and Fethillen made a soft sound of irritation. “That’s all we’ll get for now. Sushel, restrain our new friend and make him comfortable for the night. Quenby, Nuthen, clean up the mess.” Though Katelina couldn’t see her, she imagined that she turned toward them. “Jorick. You know something of this Malick? Is he truly the one who killed Memnon?”
“Yes.”
“I see. And so he now uses what is left of Memnon’s army for his own gains. You said he wanted to wake Samael. What is it he is after now?”
“He’s old and he’s bored. When he revolted against the council he made it plain that he wanted to go back to the old ways, when vampires waited to gain age and power before they turned a fledgling, and so passed on great strength. He is disdainful of the newer, weak vampires, and no doubt that’s why he’s ordered the attacks on the guilds; to destroy those he deems weak and unworthy.”
Katelina thought of the video the Children had sent to Turkey, “we bring with us the darkness of oblivion to those who stand in our way, to those who are weak, and those who should never have been born.” She’d been in the council chambers when Malick had announced his goals to a stunned and outraged audience, so why hadn’t she seen through those words to the ancient master behind them?
Jorick went on, “I doubt it’s only vampires he wants to rule. He used to tell me stories of his youth, in Assyria. Those that now comprise the True Council were there, and were worshiped by mortals as Gods. He has tried twice before to merge the world of humans and vampires again, and failed.”
Fethillen’s tone was even, “I fear this time he may succeed.”
It was a moment before Jorick answered. “So do I.”
They laid down to sleep, and Katelina stared through the darkness. Now that they knew Malick was behind the attacks, it changed everything. She could still picture his revolt at The Guild; how vampires and humans alike had fallen in waves as he drew near, blood pouring from their ears and their eyes as they screamed, the way Malick had seemed to float as he and his followers marched over piles of corpses, his face emotionless, even serene.
And he plans to do that to the whole world.
The wind howled against the building and she shivered and pressed herself closer to Jorick. He was still warm, but she knew by the next evening he’d be freezing cold. The abandoned building had been bad enough, but it had been warmer there. Here there was very little to stop her from freezing to death.
At least the Russians will survive, she thought sarcastically. They spent so much time huddled together that they should stay warm.
She wondered what their relationship was. Were they a couple, or merely linked through suffering? She wished she could probe their minds like Jorick and Verchiel. The answers had to be there, waiting to be viewed, like a foreign movie with no subtitles. But neither Jorick nor Verchiel were interested. She supposed they had bigger things on their minds. Jorick, the self-imposed responsibility of trying to be “the hero”, and Verchiel the worry of a newfound sister who’d been kidnapped.
She closed her eyes and thought about Ume. Was she still alive? Had they taken her to trade for Wolfe, or was there something else at work? Was it really Cyprus’ idea or Malick’s?
The last thought made her shiver.
She pushed the thoughts out of her head and tried to relax. Eventually she fell into dreams where voices screamed in time to the wind and blue lights lit piles of mummified bodies. The scenes wavered, then drifted away until she stood on a balcony. The view was a cold lake lapping in the darkness. She leaned on a red painted railing and watched the ripples shimmering in the moonlight. A familiar sense of peace permeated the air. She drew a deep breath and let the feeling swallow her. It was as if she was safe from everything; safe from Sushel’s plots, safe from Cyprus’ bitterness, and even from the evil machinations of Malick. Nothing could touch her in the silent, wintery cocoon.
“We are both safe here.”
He stood farther down the balcony, a silh
ouette in the shadows, but his presence didn’t alarm her. She’d known he was there.
“It won’t last. I’ll wake up and still be in that hut on the mountain.”
“This is true, but only for a moment. Close your eyes and count. It will pass away and the dream will become the truth, and truth the dream.”
It was confusing but she wasn’t sure she cared whether it made sense or not. What mattered was the feeling of peace; the freedom, the knowledge that there was nothing terrifying waiting in the dark.
She woke with the tendrils of the dream clinging to her memory. The red painted banister, the water, the peace. Though the dream was gone the feeling remained and she felt that maybe everything would be all right. As long as Jorick was with her, nothing could really hurt her.
The Black Vigil woke soon after her and crept out the door either to feed or have a secret meeting. Katelina couldn’t make herself care which. It was as if they were all so weak and ineffective that their plots meant nothing. But, as the minutes ticked past, the feeling faded and her worry returned.
She went with Jorick to feed, though she refused to eat the furry weasel like animal and hoped they’d find real food later. When they made it back, she noticed the Black Vigil were once again in their everyday clothes—or their incognito clothes. As if the prospect of having to go to airports meant they needed to dress like everyone else.
Katelina finished off the bottle of water in her coat and dug in her bag for another. They were frozen. She tried to warm them up, and finally offered both Etsuko and the Russians the mostly frozen bottles. Etsuko took it with a bow and a thank you, but the Russians stared at it fearfully.
Fethillen walked by on her way to the helicopter and Katelina called, “Could you please tell them I’m trying to help.”
The tall blonde vampiress looked surprised at the idea, but she rattled off something in Russian. Though the pair refused to look at her, the edge of relief slipped over their features and the male took the offered bottle. Fethillen turned to go, when he replied with a halting string.
The vampiress looked amused, and answered him. Whatever she said made his shoulders slump.
“What?” Katelina demanded.
“He thought you were going to help them go home. I told him no.”
“Home? Does he mean where they lived before the vampires?”
Fethillen looked impatient, but she rattled off another sentence. The man looked up, his eyes wide with shock. He as quickly looked back down, shook his head and muttered a reply.
“He says their only home is with their masters. Is there anything else?”
“You can’t mean that they want to go back to that—that place and let those monsters torture them!”
Fethillen sighed, but translated the phrase. The Russians shuffled and the man murmured something barely audible.
“They cannot remember anything else,” Fethillen said. “They don’t understand anything else. You should have left them where they were.”
She started off again, and Katelina called to her. She turned back and barked, “I don’t have time to be your interpreter.”
Katelina bit her lip and tried to capture the calm she’d woken with. “Why was Cyprus in Uzbekistan? Why did he think we were traveling with Wolfe?”
Fethillen made an irritated noise. “I have no idea. If you know something then be quick and tell me. I don’t have time or patience for riddles and half hints.”
Katelina’s courage failed, but she pushed herself. She repeated Jorick’s suggestion that Sushel had purposefully leaked false information, knowing Yaroslav would betray them. Fethillen listened and then gave a sharp nod. “This may be true. Yaroslav has been a long time contact. If this is what happened, Sushel may have told him to leak the information. Either way, it was without my permission and will need to be investigated.” She started back to the helicopter, then paused and said, “Your coven should be careful human. If his intentions were devious, he will be no kinder to you.”
Katelina was already well aware.
Though the prisoner swore he could take them to what was probably Malick’s base in Namibia, Fethillen refused to change their plans. They would go first to the summer headquarters and then to Namibia from there. “We will need everyone if we want to defeat The Children of Shadows once and for all.” The look she shot Jorick said that she counted him among their weapons.
The weather was warmer at their first refueling stop. Jorick and Oren bought bottled water and a variety of vending machine food. Though it was a foreign country, the snack food was the same. Katelina said a prayer of gratefulness and as the helicopter lifted off she sorted through the goodies. Etsuko was too polite to pick anything herself, and Katelina had to guess what she’d like and dole it out to her. She gave the Russians a share. They stared at it for a long time before they tried it.
“I doubt they’ve had Cheetos before,” Verchiel commented.
Other than the food, the trip was cramped and uncomfortable; not just physically, but emotionally. Katelina could feel Sushel’s dark angry eyes on her, as if he knew she’d told Fethillen. She imagined a thousand different scenarios where he crept up and killed her, and she suspected he was imagining them as well.
When they finally landed she gave a sigh of relief and snatched up her bag. She followed the others out of the helicopter. The air was warm and calm, almost too calm, and in the distance she saw a slow march of mountains. She looked around quickly on familiar surroundings; the airstrip was barely scratched out of the desolate land. Three buildings, four light poles, and three giant gas tanks made up the amenities, and coming out of one of the building was a lean figure. He had a long face and horn-rimmed glasses perched on a thin nose. His Arab style robes and the patterned cloth tied around his head made him look like a British tourist dressing the part of the locals for fun.
It was Hector.
That was why she’d recognized the name. They’d been to Hector’s airstrip when they’d come to Egypt to buy the scroll from Thadimus; the scroll that had directions to the Raven Temple.
“Welcome, welcome!” Hector greeted them with a wide fanged smile. “Only the one coven this time? No worries, there’s plenty of room. Though we have pilots waiting for their charge to arrive.” He broke off and his eyes landed on Jorick. “Well hullo there! Are you here with Fethy or are you off to Thadimus again? Sorino went to see him a week ago, but I think he’s planning to leave sometime tomorrow.” He jerked his thumb toward the hangar.
Fethillen looked suspiciously from one to the other. “Jorick is traveling with us. I had no idea you knew one another.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say knew, in the strictest sense,” Hector replied cheerfully. “I’ve had the pleasure of his custom before. Enough chat! You will be staying, yes? It’s after two, local time, so under four hours until sunrise. Come, come, let me get some refreshments for you. And of course if you’d like to freshen up there are bathing facilities.”
All the weirdness and suspicion disappeared with those words. Katelina barely listened to anything until she was in the bathroom with the door locked and a stubborn Jorick leaning against the chipped sink.
“You want me to take a bath in front of you?” she demanded.
He rolled his dark eyes. “You have sex with me, Katelina, I’ve seen it all before. I don’t trust Sushel enough to leave you alone right now. I might not have fully cracked into his thoughts, but what I could pull up was venomous and threatening. You’ve gotten spoiled with too many friendly vampires and forgotten what nasty ones are like.”
She wanted to ask who that would be, but she supposed by comparison Oren and the rest were friendly.
With a sigh of resignation she peeled off her dirty clothes and climbed into the shower. It wasn’t as embarrassing as usual, and she wondered if she was starting to get used to the feeling of his dark eyes roving over her naked body.
The shower curtain was thin and she could see his motionless silhouette through it. She scrubbed quick
ly with her miniature soap and then used as little shampoo and conditioner as she could get away with. They were probably going to be stuck with the Black Vigil for a while, so she might never make it to a store again.
She reached to turn the knob off when she noticed Jorick’s silhouette was missing. Before she could call for him, the curtain opened and she fell back with a cry.
Jorick popped into the shower with a laugh. “Relax, little one. It’s only me.”
She clutched her chest. “My God! You scared the crap out of me, especially after that lecture about unfriendly vampires.” She glanced down the length of him to find nothing but silky skin and a thick erection. “What are you doing?”
He leaned close and nipped at her neck playfully. “What does it look like?” He took her hand and guided it down between his legs. “We might not get a chance to be alone again.”
“I’m not sure I’d call this alone.” She let him press her back against the tile wall. “Hector and the whole army are just out there.”
“But they’re out there,” he murmured. “And we’re in here.” He trailed kisses across her jaw. “Just the two of us.” He paused to suck her earlobe and then whispered, “Alone.”
His breath sent delicious shivers up and down her spine and she relaxed against him. The shower splashed over them and she kissed the water droplets off his shoulders. He moaned softly and her heart fluttered, delighted she could draw that sound from him.
He kissed his way down her neck and she leaned her head back to give him better access. He reached the scar of her mark, hesitated, and then moved on to her shoulder, shifting against her so his swollen manhood pressed into her leg. She snaked her hand down again and wrapped her fingers around it. His moan was deeper this time and he moved back to give her more room.
His eyes fluttered closed and she watched his face, the way his eyelashes lay against the perfect smoothness of his cheek, the soft curve of his gently parted lips, the way his nostrils flared with his pleasure.
Children of Shadows Page 21
