by Alan Baxter
Jackson gasped like a fish, trying to speak. He stopped, swallowed, tried again. ‘It’s gone, sir.’
‘What is?’
‘My bird, sir, the one following the man and the Kin.’
Hood stared, the muscles around his jaw twitching. It was several seconds before he spoke. ‘Gone?’
Jackson nodded vigorously, staring at his writhing hands. ‘Just blinked out, sir. I felt a struggle, then nothing.’
Hood leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands across his forehead, staring at the ceiling. ‘What does that mean exactly?’
‘Mean, sir?’
Hood’s eyes snapped back to Jackson, made the terrified man take an involuntary step backwards. ‘Gone,’ Hood said again. ‘What does that mean?’
‘It means dead, sir. They killed it.’
‘How did they catch a planesbird?’
Jackson whimpered. ‘I don’t know, sir, it’s not possible. They just slip away, slip between realms. Harder to grasp than smoke, sir.’
Hood leaned his elbows on his desk, his chin on his clasped hands. ‘I really, really want whatever it is those two are carrying.’
Sparks sat quietly, wondering what they had. Every time anything happened it deepened Hood’s desire. She had to admit it appeared to be powerful, but what if it wasn’t the things they carried but the people themselves? Had he considered that?
‘So we’ve lost them?’ Hood asked.
Jackson nodded, staring at the floor, misery embodied.
‘Then I suppose I’d better inform the Dark Sisters.’
A cold wave swept through the office. ‘We know,’ said a voice like ice.
Jackson spun around, looking everywhere. Sparks stiffened, not daring to look, not wanting to see. Hood sat quite still. ‘Where are you?’ he asked.
‘Travelling, with your mind-print. What you hear, I hear.’
Hood shot to his feet, scanning for the disembodied voice. ‘That was never part of the deal!’
Frosty laughter floated through the room. Sparks felt as if her bladder would betray her any second. ‘What deal, sweet man?’ the voice of Blonde said. ‘We agreed to fulfil your task. The details are our business.’
Hood sat, his face distraught. ‘You can read my every thought?’
‘If I chose to. But I have other things to occupy me, little man.’
Hood dropped his face into his hands. He rubbed his cheeks. ‘So what now?’
‘We will speak to the planesbird keeper.’
Jackson visibly trembled.
‘He can hear you,’ Hood said.
More cold laughter. ‘Of course. But we need a rather more personal audience with him.’
‘Do you?’
‘We’ll be there soon. Do make sure your security people know. We wouldn’t want any unfortunate encounters. Negotiating modern buildings is such a chore.’
Hood’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You’re coming here?’ The chill dissipated from the room, silence heavy in the suddenly warm air.
‘They’ve gone,’ Sparks said, almost whispering.
‘Not for long. Sparks, wait downstairs please. You’re the only one who would recognise them.’
Sparks shivered, terrified at the thought. ‘You’d recognise them too,’ she said, without thinking.
Hood rounded on her. ‘You’d have me stand around in the lobby? Waiting?’
Sparks jumped to her feet. ‘Of course not, no. I suppose we have no idea how long they’ll be.’
Hood smiled, completely without humour. ‘I suppose not.’
Sparks marched through the building, taking some solace from the staff scurrying before her, terrified that she might approach them, task them with something. Her authority was second only to Hood’s, and he was a rarely seen figurehead, more concept than person among the underlings. She, however, was very real, very present, very much in evidence. She barked orders as she went, invoking their fear to mask her own as she made her way down to the lobby.
She sat in the reception area of the Black Diamond tower for several hours, sending anyone who looked her way on a pointless errand. When the Dark Sisters arrived a cold gust washed through the wide glass doors.
They strode into the lobby, well dressed and confident. The handful of people around paused involuntarily, all turning to watch. The Sisters mesmerised every eye with their presence. Sparks dragged herself to her feet, trying to conceal her terrified shakes.
She forced a smile. ‘Hello, ladies.’
‘So nice of you to meet us,’ Blonde said with a condescending smile.
‘You couldn’t just crawl in the window like you did before?’ Sparks asked, surprising herself.
Red laughed. ‘Oh, do we irritate you?’
Sparks bit her lip, said nothing.
Blonde swept an arm around. ‘All this glass and metal and technology, it’s disorienting. We slip through the gaps in open places, travel faster than your modern vehicles, but only in the natural world.’
Sparks nodded, chose not to ask any more questions. ‘This way please.’ She turned and led them away without giving them a chance to respond. As her high heels clicked across the marble floor, a terrifying thought occurred to her, an image of the three Sisters pressed against her in the lift. Muffling a whimper of distress, she pushed the button and waited. She could feel them standing behind her but refused to look around.
‘Your fear is delicious!’
Blonde’s cold breath across her ear made Sparks stiffen again. She clenched her teeth lest a scream escape.
‘You know, you really have nothing to fear,’ Blonde whispered, still mere millimetres from her.
‘Really?’ Sparks cursed internally at the weakness of her voice.
‘You follow that hideous man, but you’re not to blame.’
Sparks laughed despite her fear. ‘Oh, I’ve done plenty wrong.’
‘No, you haven’t. You’ve survived, whatever the cost. The things you’ve endured, the things men have put you through, yet look at you now. Not only surviving, but thriving.’
‘How do you know what I’ve been through?’
Blonde’s breath was like iced water across Sparks’s neck. ‘I know everything Hood knows. I know everything you do for him.’
‘He saved me,’ Sparks said, her voice a strained whisper.
‘I know. And you’ve made it that way. It’s him who should be scared, not you.’
Sparks frowned, half turning to see Blonde. ‘What do you mean?’
The lift arrived with a metallic ring. Blonde gestured to the doors as they opened. ‘Shall we?’
Sparks stepped in, the Dark Sisters following. ‘What do you mean, he should be scared?’
Blonde ran one fingertip under Sparks’s chin, like the stroke of an icicle. ‘You’ll be all right,’ she said with a smile.
Sparks looked away, unable to hold the gaze of those terrible eyes. She swiped her security pass, pressed the button for the top floor. They rode through the Black Diamond tower in silence.
Sparks led the Sisters from the lift to Hood’s penthouse offices. Jackson sat opposite Hood. Sparks stood at the door, letting the Sisters through. She resisted the urge to turn and run away.
Hood rose, a forced smile splitting his face. ‘Welcome, welcome. Firstly, in future, please speak directly to me, rather than so publicly as you did before. I suppose you …’
‘This is him?’ Blonde asked, ignoring anything Hood had to say. ‘The keeper?’
‘Yes, this is Jackson.’
The Dark Sisters walked casually over to the old man trembling in the chair. A dark stain spread rapidly across his groin as he sat transfixed by their eyes. The Sisters crouched before Jackson, leaning in towards him. ‘We need to know what you know,’ Blonde said. ‘What your bird knew.’
‘I’ll tell you anything,’ Jackson said in a reedy, shaking voice.
‘You can’t tell us,’ Brunette said.
‘But we can take the knowledge,’ said Red.
; Sparks’s fear surged again as tendrils of dark blue swam from the Sisters’ blackening eyes. She relived the terror of the children as those malevolent wisps writhed across Jackson’s face. Jackson cried out, his voice muffled, shifting like his seat was hot.
Jackson’s hands flew up, grasping either side of his head. He howled as his skin blackened and grew taut across his skull. He shrivelled to a black skeleton, slid to the ground. The Sisters stood.
Hood looked over his desk at what used to be Jackson. ‘Did you have to kill him?’
‘Of course not,’ Blonde said. ‘But we were hungry.’
‘He’s been with me for years.’ Hood’s face showed genuine regret.
Red shrugged. ‘He failed you, did he not?’
Hood looked at her, frowned. ‘Well, no, not really. It wasn’t his fault they caught his bird.’
‘Oh well, too late now.’
The Dark Sisters turned and headed for the door. Sparks pressed the button to call the lift.
‘That’s it?’ Hood called out. ‘You’ve got what you needed?’
‘We have a print of them now,’ Blonde said, without looking around. ‘We’ll find them.’
‘And you’ll contact me as soon as you know anything? Keep me informed? Privately?’
‘Yes, yes.’
‘No need to see us out,’ Red said to Sparks.
They entered the elevator and the doors closed with a slight hiss. As the lift headed for the ground, the chill in the air went with it.
Sparks let out a deep breath, thankful the hideous things had gone. Hood leaned on his desk, still looking at the blackened corpse of Jackson. ‘Fucking hell,’ he said, almost to himself. ‘I liked that man.’
23
Alex could see the opening in the old stone wall, but his new understanding of his skills told him he shouldn’t be able to. ‘Can you see the door?’ he whispered to Silhouette.
‘Only because it’s Kin magic. You shouldn’t. No one should who isn’t Kin.’
‘I can.’
‘I’m not surprised.’
Hundreds of people milled around them, gawping at the majesty of the Colosseum, of Constantine’s arch, heading for the boulevards of the Roman Forum. The man who had reluctantly answered Silhouette’s call, who had equally reluctantly introduced himself as Louie, reached the doorway and stopped. None of the hundreds of tourists and local hawkers paid him any attention. His face still showed nothing but disdain. ‘Your human …’ he began.
‘Can see your doorway clearly,’ Alex said, deciding to treat this man with respect equal to that which he was shown. ‘Take us to Lorenzo.’
The dark man growled, lips peeling back in anger. ‘Who the fuck do you think you are?’
‘Who I am is of no importance to you.’
Louie took a step forward, fury twisting his features. Silhouette stepped between them, putting a hand to Louie’s chest. ‘He’s with me and you will not threaten him.’
Louie sneered. ‘Who does he think he is to talk to me like this?’
‘He’s more powerful than you realise. And not really human. Take us to Lorenzo, please.’
Louie ground his teeth, staring hard at Silhouette for several seconds. He turned and stalked through the hidden opening without a glance back.
Silhouette leaned close to Alex, the wards dragging against them as they passed through. ‘What are you trying to do? You need to show some respect if you want help here.’
‘He pissed me off. I’m sick of being treated like the ignorant little human.’
‘A fine time you’ve picked to be all superhero. You’re deep in Kin territory. Very old Kin territory. Please, be a little humble.’
A haze seemed to shift from his mind. ‘Uthentia’s making me act like a fuckwit,’ he whispered. ‘Trying to get a fight started.’
‘Please, Alex, second guess every time you’re tempted to speak. The thing is wily. It can tell you’re getting stronger, that you’re closer to breaking its grip on you. You have to stay aware of it.’
‘I’ll try. Did you mean what you said to him?’
‘What?’
‘Not really human.’
Silhouette’s eyes were pools of sympathy. She leaned forward, kissed him softly. ‘Yes. I did.’
Alex walked on into the darkness of the passageway ahead of her. The entrance that looked like solid stone to everyone else led to a narrow passage that curved down and back on itself. Alex caught up to Louie. ‘Excuse me, I apologise. My business is dangerous, it makes me surly. I shouldn’t have been so rude to you.’
Louie looked over his shoulder as he walked, confusion distorting his brows. ‘A strange one, you are.’
‘You have no idea. Again, I apologise.’
‘Whatever. It makes no difference to me. Lorenzo will decide your situation.’
The passageway continued down, lit by small glowing orbs of light that hovered near the arched ceiling, magesign twisting around them. Alex tried to get his bearings. ‘So you guys were here before the Colosseum,’ he asked.
‘This Den has been here for millennia,’ Louie replied proudly. ‘We built the arena and fed on its human warriors for centuries. Now it’s a fucking tourist attraction.’ He spat the last two words out like they were poison.
‘The world changes,’ Silhouette said. ‘We have to change with it.’
‘Fuck that. We should take over. There are enough of us.’
Silhouette rolled her eyes at Alex. ‘No, there aren’t. The humans are tenacious and furious. Trying to take over would be suicide.’
Louie cast her a disdainful look. ‘Says you.’
Alex wondered how many other Kin thought like Louie. Kin, the nightmares, the bogeymen, the death in the darkness. They were real and they walked everywhere. And he was becoming more like them. But one thing he promised himself: he would never become like Louie. He would hold on to his self, defend his kind. He refused to descend into the depths of monstrosity that yawned before him. The power he did crave, but it would never cost him his humanity. Even as he thought it, he wondered how possible that was. Would he laugh at these thoughts at some future date? ‘How many of you are there?’ he asked Louie.
‘In this Den?’
‘No, I mean globally. How many Kin are there?’
Louie shrugged. ‘Fuck knows. That’s probably the biggest problem. Internecine wars and conflict, a complete lack of any kind of organisation. We just seem to lack the collective will.’
‘That’s the real sticking point,’ Silhouette said. ‘No one really knows how many of us there are and no one will ever be able to stand up and rally our various Clans. We’re as tribal as humans.’
A slight relief washed through Alex. ‘That’s good for us, I guess.’
Louie growled a noise of disgust.
They reached a heavy wooden door, crossed with iron straps held down by massive nails. Louie pulled a large iron key from his pocket, the lock making a heavy thunk as he turned it, and led them into a huge open space, marbled columns marching away from them, supporting striated marble slabs high above. Kin walked the rooms, stood talking, sat and read or conversed. It was reminiscent of Silhouette’s own Den in London, only bigger and smooth marble where Sil’s had been domes of rust-coloured brick. Orbs of arcane light hovered here and there throughout, up high near the ceiling, casting an almost daylight glow everywhere. They were led through rooms and corridors to a quiet area, eventually to large double doors. Louie turned. ‘Wait here.’
The rage of Uthentia was as evident as ever. Its desire for violence, death, blood. Alex suppressed the urge to turn back to the crowded main area and start brawling. The insistent desire to fight made his fingers twitch. He drew power from the Darak, to calm his muscles, soothe his mind. The more he used the stone, the more he was able to control it. The book vibrated in his jacket with fury. He could imagine the thing bursting out, pages thrashing like manic wings as it buzzed around, battering at him. He smiled. The almost-god was juvenile when it d
idn’t get its way.
The door opened and Louie beckoned them inside. ‘Lorenzo will see you.’
They followed Louie into an enormous chamber, brightly lit with dozens of untethered orbs, floating randomly around the high ceiling. All manner of sofas, divans, beds, chairs littered the floor, cushions and rugs scattered among them. Several people lounged around the space, many with vapid expressions, as if drugged. Alex probed for their shades. The inert ones were all human, mundane, enchanted somehow into insensitivity. Food for Lorenzo and his friends, presumably. The thought was too disturbing and Alex pushed it from his mind. He picked out a few Kin among them, alert, watching him from beneath hooded brows, suspicious.
At the back of the room a man lay among a mountain of silk cushions. He was strongly muscled, wearing linen pants and nothing else. His skin looked like the marble of the walls around him, smooth and somehow hard, impenetrable. He had long, dark hair and eyes that seemed solid black. He emanated an incredible sense of age and power. Alex saw shades around him unlike anything he’d experienced before. The man did nothing to conceal his true nature, exulting in his ancient strength. Alex had got used to seeing hundreds of years in people’s colours. Welby, Joseph, Isiah. But this set a whole new level. He saw millennia in this one, more centuries of existence than he could conceive, colours and shifts he had never seen before. The man idly chewed what looked suspiciously like a human finger. Silhouette dropped to her knees before him, elbowing Alex on her way down. He knelt beside her.
‘Lord Lorenzo,’ Louie said, reverence in his tone. He bowed and moved away, out of sight behind them.
Silhouette lowered her head, speaking very quietly. ‘It is an honour to meet you, Clan Lord. Joseph, of London, sends his deepest respects.’
Lorenzo looked from Silhouette to Alex and back again. ‘Must we speak in English? Such a foul tongue.’
‘My apologies, Clan Lord, my Italian is not good.’
Alex thought he should mention that his Italian was nonexistent, but chose to keep his mouth shut. He concentrated on using the energy of the Darak, kept it flowing through his body to suppress the urgent, insistent drive of the book. Images of himself leaping onto Lorenzo, driving fists of iron through the ancient leader, flooded his mind. Even without the stone quieting Uthentia, he knew such an action would be suicide. Clenching his teeth, he endured.
