‘I will telephone you back,’ Stone said.
But he wouldn’t be doing it on that particular phone, because he slammed the receiver down so hard that it shattered into a thousand pieces. He raised his face to the ceiling and his scream of rage filled the flickering shadows and reverberated off the stone walls. He paced furiously up and down, grabbing anything that lay in his path and dashing it violently against the wall. He seized a priceless Ming vase from a pedestal and hurled it like a missile through the centre of the gilt-framed Florentine mirror that hung over the fireplace. A shower of broken glass rained down, snuffing out the flames of the silver candlesticks. He screamed again.
Lillith came rushing into the room, hearing the noise.
‘Gabriel—’ She stopped and looked at him. ‘He’s dead, isn’t he? Our servant?’ There was a tremor in her voice, and she was watching him with round eyes. He’d never lost his temper in her presence, not in all the centuries they’d roamed the earth together.
He stopped smashing things and turned to glare at her, reading her expression. There was more than just fear and outrage in her eyes. There was a tinge of guilt there, too, that she was trying hard but failing to hide. He stepped towards her, and the way she backed off told him he was right.
‘What have you done?’ he demanded.
‘Nothing.’
‘What have you done, Lillith? Lie to me, and I’ll destroy you. I will end you.’
‘Don’t hurt me,’ she pleaded, cowering. ‘I only did it to help us.’
‘Explain yourself.’
‘Seymour found out who the policeman was. His name’s Solomon, Joel Solomon. He’s an inspector. And he was bluffing you. He doesn’t have the cross.’ As she spoke, the fear in her eyes was changing shade to a spark of defiance. ‘You could have taken him that night, Gabriel, but you were too afraid.’
‘You’re telling me that this Solomon has murdered our most trusted of servants, because you ignored my specific commands? You sent Finch there to kill him, didn’t you?’
‘How was I to know the human would get the better of him?’
Stone drew back his hand to slap her. He could tear her head off with a single blow. But before he could deliver it, the door burst open and he spun round to see Zachary entering the dark study. He glared at him in fury at the interruption.
Zachary was clutching a small silver mobile phone in his giant fist. Through his rage, Gabriel recognised it as the one they used to communicate with their main contact within VIA.
‘A text message has arrived,’ Zachary said urgently. ‘The Federation leaders have called an emergency conference in Belgium. We have all the details. Venue, date, time, and who’ll be there. All of them in one place.’
‘Perfect,’ Gabriel said. His rage suddenly subsided. This was exactly what he’d hoped for.
‘There’s more,’ Zachary said. ‘And you won’t like it.’ He coughed nervously, glanced down at his boots. Not even a huge and powerful vampire wanted to be the bearer of bad tidings to someone like Gabriel Stone.
‘What?’
Zachary swallowed hard and came out with it. ‘Our informant says that the Federation agent Alex Bishop and a policeman called Joel Solomon are travelling to Venice to find the cross.’
Solomon and VIA working together. It was humiliating enough to have been duped by the human but to hear that he was conspiring with the hated enemy was unendurable. The enormity of it made Gabriel grind his teeth.
He ordered Zachary harshly out of the room, and began pacing again. His mind was working hard on a counter-strategy. With Finch gone, he would need a whole new plan.
Lillith came up to him and clasped his hands. ‘Let me go after them. I’ll destroy the VIA scum before she finds anything. I’ll tear the human apart and feast on him and bring you back his head on a platter.’
‘No, sister. It is my wish that they find the cross.’
She frowned. ‘You would allow this to be brought on us? Our kind has long wanted the cross to be suppressed. It’s too dangerous. This is madness.’
‘It’s precisely because the cross is dangerous that we cannot afford to ignore it,’ he told her. ‘The time has come to unearth it, so that it can be properly dealt with.’
‘But who can we rely on to take care of it, now that—’ Lillith stalled in mid-sentence, not wanting to say Finch’s name.
‘You’ve trusted me for many years,’ Gabriel replied softly as he stroked her hair. He ran his hand down the contour of her neck, down her shoulder. His touch lingered on the curve of her breast. She half-closed her eyes, let out a small gasp.
‘Trust me now,’ he said.
Chapter Fifty-Six
The Private Members’ Library, Houses of Parliament, London 9.03 p.m.
Jeremy Lonsdale was so completely absorbed in the speech notes he was putting the finishing touches to that he hadn’t realised until now that he was the only one left working late in the library that night. He’d nearly finished his amendments; it would soon be time to go back to the luxury Kensington townhouse where he spent the two days a week that he wasn’t in Italy or at his country pile in Surrey.
He didn’t entirely relish the prospect of going home to an empty house. His work was now all that allowed him to take his mind off his troubles, and since his return from Tuscany he’d thrown himself back into it with renewed vigour. Home was where the terrifying reality of his predicament was never far enough from his thoughts.
He picked up his pencil and made another small annotation to the wording on one of the printed sheets under the light of the banker’s desk lamp. He reread it, and nodded with approval; it sounded much more sincere that way. Satisfied, he pushed the sheet of paper away from him, out of the glow of the lamp, and picked up another. Then an afterthought occurred to him, and he reached again for the first sheet.
His fingers groped on the bare desktop. The sheet was gone. He angled the lamp, but all he saw was an empty expanse of dull green leather. Maybe it had fluttered down the other side and was lying on the floor? He scraped back his chair and began to rise to his feet.
The voice in the empty room stopped him short.
‘Fine speech, Jeremy.’
It was Stone. He was standing just beyond the light of the desk lamp, perfectly still and merged into the darkness. As he stepped towards the desk, his cape-like black leather coat glistened. In his hands was the missing sheet of paper.
‘I am sure this piece of masterly hypocrisy will earn you the faith of the gullible,’ Stone said.
Lonsdale glanced nervously around him. ‘How the hell did you get past security?’ he blustered.
Stone chuckled. ‘Do you not know me yet, Jeremy?’
‘What do you want?’
‘Simply to speak to you, Jeremy. And to charge you with a task.’
‘A task?’
‘One of vital importance to all of us. Two of my enemies are on their way to Venice, on a mission to find and bring back a certain historic artefact. One of these enemies is a member of your own lowly species; the other, to my shame, belongs to my own kind. Once they find the artefact, I want you to take possession of it. The vampire is to be slain – I will supply you with the necessary.’ Gabriel paused. ‘As for the human, my wish is that he be taken alive. I’ll deal with him in my own way. A personal matter.’
Lonsdale glared indignantly. ‘I’m a politician, not an assassin and a kidnapper. You’re not going to send me here, there and everywhere to commit crimes for you.’
‘You make me laugh, Jeremy. Please, spare me this display of moral indignation. You and your kind have been ordering the death and incarceration of your fellow men since time began. In any case, whether you carry out this task with your own hand is of no concern to me. Such services can be bought. I’m sure you have the appropriate contacts – if not, now is the time to make some.’
‘What is this historic artefact that’s so important to you?’ Lonsdale asked.
‘A simple cross, of Celtic
design.’
‘But you told me your people had no fear of crosses—’
‘This is a cross like no other. I couldn’t possibly expect a human to understand, nor do I have the patience to share my knowledge with you. Suffice to say that it’s highly dangerous to us – though not, as fate would have it, to your despicable race. That’s why you shall act as my courier. You will deliver the cross to an agreed destination, where I may witness its destruction from a safe distance.’
‘Then this cross really is a threat to you,’ Lonsdale said.
Stone arched an eyebrow. ‘I know precisely what’s in your mind, Jeremy. You’re thinking that an object of such power offers a most convenient way to rid yourself of my presence in your life. You would use it to destroy me.’
Lonsdale held up his hands. ‘No, no. I swear, the thought never—’
‘Quiet. Don’t insult me with lies.’ Gabriel smiled. ‘If you weren’t a devious and treacherous little vermin, I wouldn’t have enlisted you in the first place. But you would do well to remember my superior intelligence. You can’t outwit me, and you will certainly never destroy me.’ He paused. ‘Have you paid a visit to your son recently?’ he said nonchalantly.
Lonsdale looked blank. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Your son Toby. A fine boy. Doing well at that expensive boarding school you sent him to.’ Gabriel slipped a photo from the breast pocket of his long leather coat and dropped it onto the desk. It had been taken with a long lens, and showed a boy of about ten, frozen in mid-stride, his face lit up with innocent joy as he dashed across a muddy field clutching a rugby ball.
Lonsdale stared at it aghast. ‘How did you find out about Toby?’
‘Another little secret your potential voters can’t know about. The bastard spawn of your fling with your former secretary.’
‘I love that boy,’ Lonsdale said. ‘More than anything. He’s just an innocent child. You can do what you want with me – but please, don’t harm him.’
‘I’m fully aware of your affection for the child,’ Stone replied. ‘And, were I to share your frail human tendency towards emotional attachments, I’m sure I might even find it quite touching. Rest assured that nothing untoward will befall young Toby, as long as you do as I ask. But the merest transgression, and what happened to the hapless female at your initiation ceremony will seem like a kindness in comparison to what your son will suffer.’
Lonsdale screwed his eyes shut. ‘I’ll take care of it. I won’t fail you.’
When he looked again, the vampire had slipped away into the dark.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
The Metropole Hotel, Venice
10.08 p.m. local time
‘I can’t afford this place,’ Joel said under his breath as they walked through the luxurious hotel lobby. ‘You’re looking at a guy on half pay for the next six months.’
‘Who says you’re paying?’ Alex replied.
‘I can’t let you—’
‘Relax. My family’s rich. Money isn’t an issue.’ She smiled to herself, thinking about the expense account she’d persuaded Harry Rumble to set up for the trip to Venice. If they were going to be here for a while, searching for an ancient cross that might not even exist, they might as well do it in style. She led the way to the desk and tried to book two double rooms next to one another. The hotel manager shook his head and said all they had available was a suite with two separate bedrooms. He named an astronomical price for the night, and she booked it without hesitation.
They’d brought little luggage with them. A uniformed porter grabbed Joel’s holdall in his left hand. He was fairly well built and lifted it effortlessly but when he went to pick up the leather travelling bag Alex had been carrying just moments before, he could barely get it off the floor. He shot a look of amazement at her, heaved it up with a grunt and led the way towards the lift.
‘What have you got in that thing?’ Joel asked, watching the porter struggle and sweat.
‘We girls like to carry a lot of stuff around with us,’ she replied casually.
‘Tell me about it.’
The suite was lavish and seemed to ramble across at least half a floor of the hotel. Their separate bedrooms were on a palatial scale, a blue satin-draped four-poster in hers and a gold satin one in his, each with its own balcony looking out over the canal. Joel walked out onto his and leaned on the stone balustrade, transfixed by the view. The moon was full and bright on the rippling water. The city lights twinkled like stars. Feeling her presence, he turned suddenly and saw her standing close behind him.
‘Did I startle you?’ she smiled. ‘Sorry.’
‘I was miles away. Just looking.’
‘First time here?’
‘First time just about anywhere,’ he replied. ‘Unless you count rock climbing trips in the Lake District and weekends in Blackpool with my aunt and uncle. Sausage and chips on the pier. Not quite the same, is it?’
She walked up close to him and ran her eye along his shape as he leaned on the balcony. He was lithe but strong. She could smell his skin and his hair. It felt strange to want to touch him.
‘It’s amazing,’ he said, taking in the view. ‘I don’t suppose this city has changed much in centuries.’
‘No,’ she sighed. ‘It hasn’t.’
They stood in silence for a while, him watching the water and the dark silhouettes of distant steeples and towers against the sky, her watching him. For all the troubles and sadness she could see in his eyes, it was clear to her that he was drinking in the serenity of the tranquil old city with real pleasure. With a jolt of alarm, she realised how natural and relaxed she felt in this human’s presence.
Be careful, Alex.
‘Feel like a bite?’ he said suddenly, turning to face her.
‘What?’
‘You must be hungry. You want to see if we can grab a bite somewhere?’
‘I might pick at something,’ she said. ‘I don’t eat that much.’
Joel had barely eaten in the last thirty-six hours, and his stomach was telling him so. ‘Maybe we could hang about here, order something up to the room.’
The selection of cold meats, salads, olives and cheese was delivered to the suite together with two bottles of expensive red wine, all courtesy of VIA. Joel attacked the food like a man who’d just been rescued from a desert island, piling a plate with cold chicken, smoked ham, a mound of olives and a huge wedge of cheese. Alex daintily helped herself to a couple of tiny morsels, and they settled in two comfortable armchairs facing each other in the suite’s vast living room. Joel didn’t seem to notice her lack of appetite. As he munched and drank he had his grandfather’s notebook spread open beside him on the arm of the chair, and the conversation quickly focused on the clues they needed to crack.
‘Salvation lies at the feet of the Virgin,’ Joel said, reading from the page and knocking back another glass of wine. He was outdrinking her three to one and getting progressively more bright-eyed as the level in the first bottle dropped rapidly.
Alex sipped from her glass. ‘Was your grandfather Catholic?’
‘He was raised C of E, as far as I know. I don’t recall him ever having talked about going to church, though.’
‘Because what if he wasn’t just talking metaphysics here? What if he was talking about his own literal salvation? As in, the only thing that he believed could save him?’
‘You’re saying he was referring to the location of the cross?’
She nodded. ‘X marks the spot.’
‘At the feet of the Virgin. How many Virgin Marys must there be here in Venice?’
‘A few thousand,’ she said. ‘Maybe more than a few. The Mother of Christ isn’t exactly a rarity in these parts.’
‘That’s a lot of possible Xs marking a lot of possible spots.’
They talked on, throwing ideas back and forth, getting nowhere fast. Joel shoved his empty plate to one side and concentrated harder on the wine. The first bottle was empty
now, and he was making inroads into the second, slumping gradually down into his armchair and slurring his words a little.
‘What about this “Anchi 666”?’ he complained. ‘It’s driving me crazy. The Antichrist? Damien?’
‘My Bible knowledge is a little rusty,’ Alex said, ‘but what I think the Book of Revelation says is that the number six hundred threescore and six is “the number of a man” who’s also the biblical Beast – the Devil’s envoy, his representative on Earth. Does it mean vampires?’ She shrugged. ‘I can’t say for sure. In ancient times, a lot of people thought vampires were an incarnation of Satanic evil.’
‘Evil is the right word,’ Joel muttered, and slipped a little further down in his chair.
Alex didn’t reply.
‘But where does this get us?’ he groaned. He was really slurring now, and having trouble keeping his eyes open. Alex moved over to his chair and put her hand to his lips.
‘Shh. Tomorrow. You’re tired.’
He nodded sleepily, and closed his eyes. She kneeled by his chair and studied his face as he fell asleep.
Within minutes he’d drifted far away. It was as though she’d been left alone in the room. A strange emptiness came over her, and an impulse made her reach out suddenly and stroke his cheek.
‘William,’ she murmured softly.
He stirred and his eyelids gave a flicker, then he went still again. She ran her fingers through his hair. She wanted to kiss him…She didn’t know what she wanted. It felt strange and confusing to be here with this man.
After a few minutes, she stood up. Putting an arm gently under his shoulders and the other under his legs, she scooped him up out of the armchair without waking him and carried him easily through the door of his bedroom. She laid him down on the four-poster and covered him gently with a blanket.
She should have left him then, but instead she stayed with him, sitting on the edge of the bed as he slept. From time to time his brows twitched and he shook his head from side to side and muttered softly to himself as troubled dreams played in his mind. She stroked his hair and whispered soothingly to him, and the frown would melt away from his face so that he looked almost like a child.
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