'Tea is fine,' Lorna nods, crossing her legs on the couch. I glare at her, wondering exactly where along the way she left her manners. She catches me staring. 'Thank you.' She adds quickly.
'I'll help.' I spring up, desperate not to be left alone with Lorna and the awkwardness that now seems to bind us. I follow Asil through the narrow hallway into the kitchen. It's small and cramped, but the little window looks out into a reasonably tended garden where flowers bloom amidst the weeds. Asil takes a tea bag out of a small tin and stares at it for a moment, looking both amazed and perplexed.
'Would you like me to do it?' I offer, stepping forward and taking the tea bag.
'Thank you,' He nods gratefully. 'It's been a long time since I made tea.' He chuckles good-naturedly and finds me a mug in one of the overhead cupboards. The sound of the kettle boiling, of a spoon clinking against china, is comforting and I find some of the tension built up over the day dissipating.
'So,' I turn to Asil, spooning two sugars into Lorna's tea. 'How exactly do you know Malachy?' It's been playing on my mind since we met in the airport, and Asil doesn't look at all surprised at my question.
'I worked for him, like I told you.' He smiles.
'Yes,' I nod. 'But you said you owe him?'
'Yes,' Asil nods slowly. 'I do, in a way. It's complicated.'
I stir the tea slowly and thoughtfully, waiting for Asil to continue. 'I was close to Malachy,' I admit when it becomes apparent that Asil is finished. 'When I was at the Institute. He... helped me.' I'm not sure I should be telling anyone this, but if Malachy asked Asil to come and find me, odds are he already knows that Malachy has been doing things he shouldn't.
'Yes,' Asil gives me a small smile. 'Malachy is a very helpful person.'
'He helped you, too?' I ask. Asil hesitates, clearly wondering the same as me. Can I be trusted? What's my agenda? Where do my loyalties lie?
'Yes,' He nods finally. 'A long time ago.'
'Malachy's twenty-one,' I tell him. 'It can't have been that long ago.'
'It started a long time ago,' Asil corrects himself. 'When Sirus first came to the throne. That's when my brother and I joined the Auctoritas as Servuses,' He explains. 'We were happy at first. Happy to be working so closely with such important Immortals. Full of the excitement which follows a succession.'
'What happened?' I prompt him after a long pause.
'The French Rebellion,' He tells me, a sadness in his blue eyes. 'Sirus was impressed with Vlad – I think he saw something of himself in my brother. After a while, he promoted him to be his own personal Servus. Vlad was thrilled to be working in such a close proximity to our leader. He would join me at the end of every day, filled with amazing things he'd heard Sirus say or do. I think he idolised him. Then, when the Rebels struck, he saw Sirus do things that – ' Asil breaks off, hesitating. 'Well, let's just say Vlad wasn't so impressed with our Auctorita after that.'
'Did he leave?' I ask, vaguely aware that Lorna's tea is getting cold.
'Oh, no,' Asil shakes his head emphatically. 'Servuses aren't allowed to leave, at least, not without the permission of Sirus himself. They're privy to certain things. They hear and see things that Sirus may not want them going out and talking about. Sirus would never have let Vlad leave.'
'So, then, what happened?'
'Vlad escaped,' Asil sighs. 'He tried to convince me to go with him but I was too afraid. He kept telling me he was going to finish what the Rebels had started. That he believed in what they stood for. That Sirus was a barbarian and not fit to rule. I was terrified with it all.
He left and didn't come back. Sirus was pretty angry, he sent people to look for Vlad but they couldn't find him. After a while, when there were no repercussions, Sirus gave up. I thought that would be the end of it but then, a few months later, Vlad got a message to me through one of the other Servuses. He told me he was building an army to rival Sirus' and that I was welcome to join him at any time.'
'Did you?'
'No. I stayed with the Auctoritas and fulfilled my duties. Sirus had questioned me about Vlad's disappearance but was satisfied that I knew nothing. I didn't want to do anything to jeopardise my existence any more than Vlad already had. Sirus chose his children, then, when Malachy was fifteen, Sirus made me his son's personal Servus. Malachy – ' He hesitates again. 'Malachy saw through me in a way Sirus didn't. He could tell I was unhappy. He wanted to know why.
I didn't tell him, of course, not for a long time. But as I worked alongside him, we grew close and one day I told him everything. Why Vlad had left, where he'd gone, what he was doing. And I told him that Vlad still kept in contact with me. I was scared all the time about being found out. Scared that one of the messages might be intercepted and Sirus might think I was with them. Though I was betraying my brother, it felt a relief to finally be rid of the burden he'd placed on me.
I expected Malachy to run straight to Sirus and tell him everything; instead, he asked me if I wanted to leave.'
'And what did you tell him?' I frown.
'That I did, but that I was too afraid. Malachy went to Sirus that very day and told him that he wanted a new Servus. That I was no good and should be let go,' He smiles at the memory. 'It sounds awful but it was the greatest thing he could have done for me. Sirus let me go – I hadn't seen or heard anything during my service that would jeopardise the Auctoritas. I found a normal, human job, and I lived a life free of fear. I still didn't join Vlad.'
'Why?' I ask.
'I was angry with him for placing me in the position he had. He could have ruined my existence as well as his own. And I hadn't seen the things he had. I didn't know what kind of person Sirus really is.'
'But eventually you did join him?'
'Sort of,' Asil shrugs. 'I'm not completely part of the Rebellion. I don't contribute to the plans or strategies. I just run errands for Vlad when he needs someone inconspicuous. Of course, he'd like for me to participate more but... ' He hesitates. 'For the moment, I think he understands. He's still earning my trust back.'
'So Vlad has never met Malachy?' I ask, wondering once again how exactly our future Auctorita fits in with the Rebels plans. Or whether he does at all.
'No,' Asil shakes his head. 'But he is keen to.'
'Why?' I frown, a sense of dread creeping up on me.
'I'm not sure,' Asil shrugs. 'Probably because he's the only Auctorita Vlad hasn't yet met.'
'Vlad seems... ' I hesitate, not sure how to phrase it. I remember how Vlad stared intently at Lorna, and then at me across the balcony table. 'Extremely happy to have us join his cause.' I add with a meaningful glare.
'Of course. He's always happy to have new members,' He catches me staring, the intensity of my gaze. 'You mustn't read too much into the way Vlad acts. His social skills aren't what they used to be. It's... complicated.' He shifts uncomfortably.
'How complicated?'
'There's just some things he's still dealing with. Things from the past. Personal things.' He stops speaking, and I don't expect him to continue. 'He lost someone,' I'm surprised when he does. 'A long time ago now, but it still causes him pain.'
'Were they Confined?'
'No,' Asil shakes his head. 'This was back when we were still human. Canan, Vlad's lover, died when Vlad was sixteen. He was... ' Asil shakes his head. 'Heartbroken. It was only our parents' deaths a year later that brought him back. He seemed to just snap out of it, realising that I now depended on him. We managed for about a year before we caught the same disease our parents did. Then we were transformed.'
'Would Vlad want you telling me all this?' I ask, suddenly uneasy with the knowledge.
'Maybe not,' Asil shrugs. 'But if you're going to mistrust him, you should at least know the full story.'
'I never said I – ' Our conversation is halted by the sound of Lorna's feet thudding angrily down the hall. She bursts into the kitchen and eyes the cup of tea sitting on the kitchen side, now lukewarm.
'Well, you're a very accommodating hos
t, I must say.' She snaps at Asil, snatching her tea off the side and wrinkling her nose as she gulps it. Asil stares at her, shocked for a moment by her outburst, but then he smiles and a shimmering light ignites his blue eyes.
Chapter Thirteen
Eve.
The next evening, at 6.30, we gather our things and lock up the little house, heading to Asil's car. I sit in the passenger seat beside him, leaving Lorna alone in the back. The atmosphere between us has grown more tense overnight, despite Asil's best efforts to remedy it. Whether it's due to our mutual friendship – and respect for – Malachy, I don't know, but I feel safe with Asil, and I enjoy being in his company. Despite his perfectly reasonable explanation as to why he hasn't yet joined the Rebels, I find myself wishing that he would, if only for my sake.
The drive takes longer than before, the minutes on the digital clock ticking by as we half-listen to the radio speaking a foreign tongue. I wonder if Asil lives here in Bangkok, if the house we've just vacated belongs to him. He certainly seems to know these roads well and his driving is smooth as we enter and exit a motorway. Lorna nods off on the back seat as we cruise into the countryside, passing large farm houses spaced amongst endless fields. The houses grow more dilapidated as we journey on until the last few we pass are abandoned. Finally, Asil pulls onto a long gravel pathway leading up to what must have once been a beautiful country home with a large courtyard.
'Here we are.' He smiles, stopping the car a few feet shy of the front door. In the centre of the courtyard is a large, empty fountain, cracked with age and partly crumbled. The walls of the huge house are blanketed by vines, some of the windows have been smashed in and there's graffiti sprayed over the front door.
'Nice place.' Lorna drawls sarcastically as we avoid broken glass littered on the pathway. Asil doesn't bother to knock, simply pulls on one of the old iron handles and steps into the darkness beyond. Lorna and I follow, momentarily united in our anxiety. On the other side of the door lies a large foyer, once-white walls turned a putrid shade of brown, the marble floor beneath our feet cracked and sprinkled with dried leaves and dirt. I sense other presences inside the house – Immortals – a floor above. As we climb the wide staircase, I hear them echoing from different rooms.
'There's nothing to be afraid of.' Asil smiles, his blue eyes wide in the darkness.
'I'm not afraid.' Lorna snaps, though both Asil and I can hear her heart banging away in her chest.
'Watch your step here.' He warns, pointing to a section of the floor which has caved through. He jumps deftly across it, pausing for us to follow. I know without asking that the hole is too wide for Lorna to jump so I reluctantly turn, allowing her to climb onto my back. She nods at me, grateful for my discretion. Her desperation not to appear weak sometimes makes her appear even more so.
Once safely across the hole, we turn into a doorway – the door long since broken off its hinges – and are greeted by the sight of ten or so Immortals clustered around a bonfire in the centre of the room. The orange flames flicker inside a waste bin, crumpled newspapers singeing slowly. Lorna steps subtly away from me, silently telling the other Immortals that she doesn't need my help – even though we all know she does.
'Ah, here's our guest of honour!' Vlad's distinctive voice calls from the shadows in the corner of the room. I watch him emerge, still creaking in his leather jacket, and approach Lorna, slinging an arm casually around her shoulders as if they're old friends.
'Me?' Lorna frowns, pleasantly surprised.
'Of course!' Vlad grins. 'Happy birthday!'
I feel an acute sense of shame wash over me as I stare at the dirty floor; I had completely forgotten Lorna's birthday, despite the fact that she only mentioned it yesterday. After my conversation with Asil, I'd had so much to think about. My guilt is enough to make me push my anger aside – for the time being at least – and plaster a smile on my face.
Once the other Rebels have stepped forward to congratulate her on turning eighteen, I pull Lorna to the side, away from prying ears and eyes. 'Why didn't you say anything?' I ask, consciously making an effort to sound friendly.
'About what? My birthday?' She frowns as I nod. 'Well, it's hardly the most important thing going on at the moment, is it? You have a lot on your mind.' She shrugs. Rather than making me feel better, her explanation actually makes me feel worse, and I decide that I might just forget about my anger altogether.
'Is that safe?' I ask Vlad as he passes, jerking my head to the bonfire which is steadily growing in height.
'Probably not,' He shrugs. 'But it's unlikely to kill us, is it?' He smirks, amused by his own joke. 'If it all goes up in smoke we can get Lorna out safely.'
'I like it,' Lorna smiles, nodding approvingly at the fire. 'It sort of makes the place... homely.'
'Sure,' Vlad snorts. 'I'd love to settle down here. Maybe have a couple of kids. All joking aside, though, I'm sorry we couldn't have this little shindig somewhere a little more upmarket. We need to lie a bit low until tomorrow.'
'Here is fine,' Lorna smiles sweetly. 'It's certainly better than how I thought I'd be spending my eighteenth birthday.' Her face darkens before she prances away to greet some of her new Rebel friends. I stay hidden in the shadows, and Vlad unexpectedly stays by my side.
'Are you all set for tomorrow?' He asks, watching one of the male Rebels stoking the fire.
'I suppose,' I shrug. 'Not a lot I can do to prepare, is there?' I raise an eyebrow, hinting at the lack of information I've been given, and he doesn't miss a beat.
'It's not personal, Eve,' He smiles. 'We're not withholding information from you just to be annoying. Vanessa – ' He hesitates, and only then do I notice that our blonde friend isn't here. 'Vanessa thinks it's safer if only a select few know the full plan.'
'She thinks I'm not to be trusted?' I snort. 'I broke out of The Gray Institute with Sir Alec's human daughter. I'd say I've rebelled more in the last two weeks than any of you have in two hundred years.'
'Fair point.' Vlad smiles, and I'm momentarily surprised at his placidity. A few beats of silence pass between us as I watch Asil laugh at something the pretty Immortal – Stacey – says, his blue eyes crinkling at the edges.
'Asil told me about your stint working for Sirus,' I say suddenly. Vlad stiffens beside me, but he doesn't speak. 'He told me everything. How you ran away, how you begged him to join you. How – ' I hesitate. 'How Malachy Beighley eventually set him free,' Vlad nods, his jaw hardened, his dark eyes fixed on a point across the other side of the room. 'That was pretty nice of him, don't you think?' I try to keep my voice conversational, but I'm sure Vlad detects my specific interest in this subject. 'Of Malachy, I mean. Letting Asil go?'
'Yes,' Vlad nods stiffly. 'I suppose it was.'
'But,' I hesitate again. 'Correct me if I'm wrong; that would mean that Malachy has known of your Rebellion for... what? Six years?' Vlad doesn't reply. 'It means he's known you're its leader for a long time. Why do you think he hasn't turned you in?'
'I don't know,' Vlad shrugs, trying to sound uninterested. He pauses a beat before continuing. 'Perhaps he didn't take Asil seriously. Perhaps he thinks our Rebellion is nothing more than a group of outsiders who are pissed off at Sirus.'
'Perhaps,' I muse. 'But that doesn't explain why he felt it was safe to send me here.' Vlad glances sideways at me, studying me when he thinks I'm not looking. He must know that Malachy sent Asil to find me. Therefore, he must have some indication that Malachy and I are connected. As for Malachy himself, he appears to have been a little careless when it comes to the Rebels. Vlad, Asil, Lorna and myself – and perhaps the other twenty or so people congregated in this house – all know that he has turned a blind eye to them on more than one occasion. Not only that, but he helped an escapee from The Gray Institute find them. Whilst his father scours the Earth for the human who has the power to reveal the entire Immortal world, Malachy is helping to keep her hidden.
I had always suspected that Malachy did not follow Sirus' ideologi
es, though he's never admitted it to me outright. But he's never been so blatant about it as he clearly has where Vlad and Asil are concerned. Is Malachy secretly hoping that the Rebels' plan might work?
'Hi!' A melodic voice distracts me from my thoughts and I turn to face Stacey Bartram, dressed this evening in a tight leather mini-skirt and pink angora jumper. 'Enjoying your friend's party?' She smiles, lighting the room with her pristine teeth.
'Sure,' I force a smile. 'It's not so different from the parties I was used to as a human.' I try to laugh, but the weight of the thoughts circling my mind drags it down.
'Junkie?' She raises a knowing eyebrow. I try not to let my shock at her fearlessness show. 'I was a call girl,' She replies to my nod. 'Until one of my clients decided that if he couldn't have me all to himself, no one else could. Fucking pervert.' She shakes her head in disgust.
'I can see why he was so obsessed with you.' I mean it as a compliment but I realise after the fact how rude it sounds. Stacey doesn't look offended, though; she laughs loudly, tilting her head back to show off all her pretty teeth.
The Gray Institute_Rebels' Hell Page 14
