Ancient Blood: A Novel of the Hegemony (The Order Saga Book 1)

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Ancient Blood: A Novel of the Hegemony (The Order Saga Book 1) Page 17

by Brian McKinley


  Nobody met my eyes or even looked in my direction if they could help it. Not even Helmut.

  Pissy paused for a drag on his cigarette but when he continued, I detected a tremor of real fear beneath the gossip. “And so he gives me this bullshit about how the bunker’s off limits to non-security personnel for the Gathering. Hegemon’s orders. Now, Ash never said a fucking word to me about anything, you know? I mean, I’m in and out of there all the time but the thing is, Wilkes is giving me that child molester stare of his and I notice his fingers keep stroking his gun, ya know? I don’t think he even realized he was doing it, I just got this cold feeling like he was waiting for me to give him shit so he could shoot me.”

  “So, what happened?” the other guy asked.

  “Well, I just played it cool as I could and said ‘okay’ and then I got the fuck outta there.”

  “You tell Ash?”

  “Not yet. He’s been so busy and all but I’ll tell ya, between this and that fucked-up shit with Mrs. Kai—”

  “Oh, man, did you hear? George got the body out of the chute today! Said he barely recognized her. Seriously worked over.”

  “I’m considering just giving my notice with a nice, big kiss-my-ass. Ash or no Ash.”

  The other guy half-turned and threw a worried glance in my direction. “I don’t know if I’d even talk about that, man.”

  I just drank my blood and pretended not to listen as one of the maids summoned the courage to approach me. “Uh, sir? Dr. Ludlow told me that you’re supposed to—”

  “Geoffrey’s breakfast,” I said. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

  She nodded and scurried away, making an abrupt gesture toward a tray where a soup tureen, bowl, gold utensils and origami-folded napkin sat.

  It’s weird having people fear you.

  * * * * *

  Caroline came up the main stairs into the gallery to meet me, carrying a manila envelope. “Sebastian’s already tried to get me to admit that we met with Iago last night and he might question you too,” she said. “If he does, just stick with the story.”

  “Right.”

  Either substituting for Mrs. Kai had given her some extra freedom, or she wasn’t as worried about Sebastian that night, since she’d ditched the elaborate hairdos of the past two days in favor of her usual ponytail. Her dress, while still old-fashioned, was more early Twentieth Century than Victorian. She strode like a queen, with a poise that brought Julia to mind. It bothered me a little.

  “This is our last major hurdle, so it’s going to be the most difficult,” she said, a few feet from the door. “Do your best not to show any reaction or respond to anything Geoffrey says, even casual chit-chat. The words you choose, your posture, the inflections of your voice and your facial expressions will all tell him things that he can use to hurt us later. Ready?”

  I took a deep breath, let it out slowly and nodded. Caroline knocked on the door and I shifted the weight of the tray a little, trying to look butler-perfect.

  Geoffrey’s Dhampir, Bishop, opened the door after a second. He’s a fortyish man of average height and heavy build, with black hair receded and thin on top with a neat beard showing a few bits of gray. He’s got piggish, mud-brown eyes, a prize-fighter’s nose and cheeks that are beginning to sag into jowls. Most people, I think, would say that he looked like a bulldog but there’s a forlorn sense about him that made me think of a basset hound instead. That night, he wore black slacks and one of those collarless dress shirts with a tartan plaid vest over it.

  “Ah, my soup,” we heard Geoffrey say from behind him. With a grunt, Bishop stepped aside to invite us in.

  Though their floor plans are mirror images of each other, Geoffrey’s suite couldn’t be more different from Iago’s. The whole place is an ocean of beige and wood with a little brass for sparkle, like the office of a development’s model home.

  “Set the tray here,” Geoffrey said, closing the lid of his wireless laptop and indicating the right side of his desk. The massive desk sits in front of the fireplace and takes up most of the room’s visual space. That night, its surface was empty except for the laptop and something that looked like a chess set. The thing about it, I noticed as I got closer, was that the board was composed of two large, gear-like wheels, both checker-boarded in gold and silver that meshed in the center. “Ever play Global Chess?” he asked.

  I shook my head as I set the tray down and got ready to ladle the soup out into the bowl when he waved me off. “Never mind that,” he said. Above his friendly smile, I felt his sapphire eyes peeling away the layers of my head to get at the thoughts beneath. “Global Chess is played in three dimensions rather than two. These wheels here are a crude representation of a globe, which grants a far greater range of moves and increases the variables of stratagems almost exponentially. I have a flashy computer mock-up at home of course but this does for travel. Perhaps we’ll have a game sometime.”

  “Good evening, Your Majesty,” Caroline said, standing behind one of the two chairs facing the desk.

  Geoffrey shifted his gaze to her and broadened his smile. “I take it you’re here with your Creator’s full knowledge and permission, yes?”

  “If asked, I’ll say I was here to speak with Bishop regarding your maid service for the remainder of the Gathering.” Caroline’s all-business tone contrasted with Geoffrey’s coyness. I was a little surprised she didn’t banter back the way she had with Iago. “I’ve arranged for the camera that covers this hallway to point in the other direction during our meeting.”

  Geoffrey showed no reaction to her tone. He wore a caramel suit with a burgundy tie, vest and pocket square combo that looked really snazzy. “Do sit, won’t you?”

  We did, thanking him. The chairs were deep seated, beige-and-brass loungers that belonged in an executive waiting room. I noticed that sitting in them made you look up at Geoffrey. Behind his head was a framed antique cartographer’s map of the world, which echoed the Global Chess set on the desk. It was the only thing resembling artwork in the room. Bishop sat in something similar, facing us from the corner and poured himself a double scotch from a crystal decanter.

  “So, you need me to save you from Sebastian, eh?” He was following Caroline’s lead and jumping right past all the preliminary stuff. Pulling the tray to him, he transferred a few ladles’ worth of soup into his bowl. “Are you hat-in-hand then, or do you come bearing gifts?”

  “Why don’t we discuss the true distribution of power if Sebastian defeats Iago and then we’ll see who’s saving whom?” Her back was ramrod straight in the chair and I followed her example, though it meant having to sit near the edge to avoid being engulfed by the thing. I remember being reminded of Monty Python’s Spanish Inquisition skit with the Comfy Chair and having to bite down hard on a giggling fit.

  Snapping the linen napkin like a bullwhip, the British Hegemon tucked one corner into his collar. “You think Iago’s going to save you from what Sebastian’s got in store for you tonight? I don’t but then, maybe the old dodger’s got a few moves I haven’t seen yet.”

  I kept my expression as blank as I could.

  “You’d better hope so,” she answered, “or you’ll get to see what the view from the judicatus is like.”

  I glanced over to watch Bishop watch us as he sipped his drink.

  Geoffrey snorted a laugh and looked at me, cocking an eyebrow. “Is she like this in private as well?”

  I didn’t say anything and tried damn hard not to show anything but he nodded like we’d shared some private joke and picked up his spoon. “Forbidden you to speak to me, has she? There’s a man who knows his place, Bishop.”

  Ouch.

  “Sound advice,” Bishop said, knocking back the last of his scotch. He had a slight Welsh accent like Richard Burton or Anthony Hopkins.

  “For Dhampirs as well,” Geoffrey said without looking at him. He sipped his first spoonful of soup.

  “Up your arse,” Bishop muttered, uncorking the decanter again.

 
; “Why do you think so unkindly of me, Caroline?”

  “I try not to think of you at all, Majesty.”

  “Has Sebastian been poisoning you against me all these years, between his torrents of love and his mad diatribes?” He slurped another spoonful of soup and smiled. “This really is excellent.”

  “Let me spell it out,” Caroline said. “Iago is going to defeat Sebastian because of my assistance.”

  “Of course, there’s no one like Iago for tall tales—”

  “I’m offering you the chance to switch sides before you end up as Julia’s puppet.”

  “Told you how he’s reformed, I suppose? You know what happened to his last Adjutor, don’t you?”

  “Do you think she’d ever let you have North America to use against her?”

  “Packed her off to Pina’s for an official visit in hopes of stymieing the old monster’s latest plan for world domination. The girl ‘vanished’ enroute.”

  They locked eyes in a contest of wills, while the arguments flew back and forth like bullets.

  “Don’t fool yourself that Sebastian’s little side plot against Julia has a chance of succeeding,” Caroline said.

  “Agrippina and Jean-Paul used to send him a piece of her every few months—I understand it took the poor thing years to die—and yet here they both remain, alive and thriving.”

  “If I already know about it, do you still think it’s going to work?”

  “Iago had begun to suspect that he loved the girl, you see, so off she went. Though he and Julia still arrange their assignations from time to time—but just between us, I think the fire’s gone out. Here’s to hoping you two have better luck, eh?”

  “Especially since I have the evidence he’s hoping to use against her.”

  “Did he tell you the one where I seduce and betray poor Sebastian?”

  Caroline didn’t respond but also didn’t flinch.

  “It’s complete rubbish, of course. Like this line of his you’re trying to feed me. I will say, however, that you recite brilliantly.”

  Did he know as much as he hinted, or was he trying to trick us into revealing ourselves?

  And all that stuff about Iago?

  Were we backing the right horse? Did we even have a choice?

  Caroline just smiled. “What about your little maneuver against Jade Tiger?”

  His smile remained fixed. “Which one?”

  “I know,” she continued. “You know I know. I know you know I know.”

  Bishop grunted a laugh.

  Geoffrey Plantagenet let his smile fade and fixed Caroline in place with the full intensity of his examination. Then he turned it on me and I felt myself go stiff. I forced my mind to go blank and endured it. The coldness of those sparkling blue eyes would have made Hannibal Lecter shiver.

  “You’ve overplayed your bluff.” Geoffrey ate another spoonful of soup and said, “Right, I should like to finish up while this is still hot and then I’ve a few calls to make. So, let’s just skip to the envelope, shall we?”

  Taking a deeper breath than usual, Caroline handed me the manila envelope she’d been holding. Playing her servant was my proper role as her Creation and would give weight to her age and status. Nodding, I stood on shaky legs and made the two steps to his desk. I held out the envelope, my stomach whirling but Geoffrey ignored me and continued eating his soup. After a few seconds of feeling like an idiot, I set it within his reach and sat back down.

  Near the end of the bowl, Geoffrey set his spoon aside and deigned to open the envelope. Inside were digital photos.

  “Screen captures from the hidden cameras Sebastian planted in Hegemon Julia’s suite,” Caroline explained. “Printed off the original and only, recording.”

  Geoffrey tapped the photos on the desk and set them down on the envelope. “Amusing, though hardly compromising. If you give me the disc, however, I’ll see to it you both survive the Gathering and receive Release, regardless of how things shake out. That’s a better deal than anything you’ll get from Iago.”

  “Your Majesty,” she said with a sigh. “Though the difference in our ages might make it appear so to you, I assure you I was not born yesterday. I slipped the disc and copies of these screen shots under the Judicis’s door late last evening, along with a note explaining its origin and contents. I took the liberty of putting your name at the bottom. So, when the Judicis brings this issue up in council and asks you to confirm the authenticity of the note and the contents of the disc, you will explain how your laptop intercepted the transmission signal of the cameras while you were performing a routine security scan of your suite—yes, I’m aware how improbable that explanation is but time is short and I doubt any of the others will question it. You will then fully support removing Sebastian and maintaining Iago’s position as well as do anything in your power to secure my and Avery’s Release. In return, I’m sure the Judicis will look favorably on your request for a transfer to the North American Domain once Sebastian is executed or removed from his position.”

  Damn! I thought. Now that’s a counter-offer!

  Geoffrey just chuckled and slid the napkin out of his collar as if removing his gloves for a duel. “Well put but really, I’m quite aware you weren’t born yesterday. You were born May the seventh, Nineteen-Thirteen, in New Haven, Connecticut, to Professor Henry Ludlow of the Harvard Psychology department and Constance Benjamin Ludlow. One sister, Susan, born in Nineteen-Eleven and died in Nineteen-Sixty-Seven of breast cancer in Sacramento, California.”

  He tossed the napkin onto the tray, where it settled over the tureen like a funeral shroud.

  “A highly intelligent child, you achieved fluency in Latin, classical Greek, French, Italian and German by the time you achieved your academic scholarship to Harvard. Unwilling to remain under daddy’s shadow there, you transferred to Columbia as an undergraduate in Sociology and Social Psychology. Came to the attention of the War Department after authoring a couple of controversial and well-received journal pieces analyzing the Nazi’s intentions and social effect on the German people. Both parents killed in an automobile accident in Boston, Nineteen-Thirty-Eight, just a year shy of seeing their beloved daughter earn her Ph.D. So, into the war you go and by its end, you’ve met the dashing Mr. Blackwood who sweeps you out of human history and into The Game.”

  Geoffrey swiveled side to side in his chair and cocked his head, smiling in a knowing way that made me want to bust his aristocratic nose. “Wasn’t at all as he’d promised, was it? Lots of causes and glorious experiments but they never lasted long enough to keep the harsh realities at bay. You put at least a few skeletons in the closet that I know of but I wonder how many more I could find if I looked. Does your man, Friday, here know about them yet or are you waiting to surprise him up the road? Shall I tell him for you? After all, Sebastian kept all his secrets from you and just look where it got him.”

  I would not look over at Caroline to check her expression.

  Would not let Geoffrey see how deeply he’d unsettled me.

  “What Avery and I have discussed about ourselves has no bearing on this negotiation,” Caroline said with a tightness that told me he’d struck a nerve. “So, you’ll either stick to the matters at hand or we’re done here.”

  “Then we’re done,” Geoffrey said with a shrug. “Fun and games aside, you still need me and I still don’t need you, so kindly save your ultimatums for the bedroom.”

  This time I did glance over. Her face was white with fury. I think somebody like Julia or Draco would have gotten up and left, just out of spite. We couldn’t afford that much pride.

  And I’d thought we were doing so well.

  Caroline swallowed, regaining her composure. “Fine. If you know me so well, then you also know that my help will be invaluable for a smooth transition of power.”

  “Useful perhaps; hardly invaluable.” He toyed with the spoon absently, his manicured nails gleaming like mirrors. “Still, it puts us in the proper direction. You both stay on in an advis
ory capacity when I move in or worst case, come on board with me in Britain in the extreme unlikelihood that I do not take over North America. Agreed?”

  “Provided we haven’t received a better offer.”

  He chuckled. “Still hoping for a position as Judicial Adjutors? Your funeral I suppose but who am I to stand in the way of blind ambition? Done.”

  Caroline nodded. “If we remain here, I retain my full powers as Adjutor.”

  “What powers?” He tossed the spoon into the bowl with a loud ring. “Did you really expect I’d believe this boy was born in captivity with Sebastian as loving grandparent? Ye gods, woman, your ascension to housekeeper’s the most power you’ve had in decades. You will be an advisor with no official authority whatsoever but once I’ve exhausted my initial needs, you might find yourself with a reasonable amount of freedom.”

  Yeah, sure, I thought.

  “Advisor, then. But only if Avery is guaranteed the option of leaving if he wants.”

  “What?” I blurted, turning to her. I cursed myself right after I did it but I couldn’t help it.

  “She’s learning, that’s what.” For the first time, the Hegemon leaned forward with real interest. “She wants to think she’s showing you mercy by giving you a way out but what’s really happening is that she’s realized what a liability you are to her and she’s beginning the process of cutting you away.”

  “That is not what I’m doing!” she shot back at him.

  “Really? Perhaps it’s you who’s looking for a way out then. Evoking love in another can be a potent control method but it’s so taxing, isn’t it, Caroline? Having to feign interest and devotion night in and night out and sometimes, despite your best performance, the signs still show through. Even this callow young man here knows exactly what I mean. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at you.”

  I looked at the god-awful beige carpet. I hated the idea that I was so transparent, that my feelings could be so inconsequential. I didn’t want to believe what he’d said about Caroline but some part of me already did. I’d never entirely trusted this miracle that had come into my life.

 

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