Uprising

by Mariani, Scott G.

  On his way to Wallingford he stopped at a village and made an anonymous call to Thames Valley Police to alert them to the stash of dead bodies and human remains at the former residence of Gabriel Stone. Let Carter and the boys sort that out, he thought as he walked back to the car in the rain. He had more pressing business to take care of.

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  The Ridings, near Guildford, Surrey

  Two hours earlier

  Jeremy Lonsdale had been nursing a crystal tumbler brimming with malt whisky in the top-floor study of his country home and fretting over his predicament when he’d heard the two Great Danes start up a chorus of frenzied barking and baying down below. He cursed loudly, smacked his tumbler down on the table and threw open the window.

  ‘Castor! Pollux! Shut your fucking holes!’ he roared out into the cold night air. The dogs fell silent, as if shocked by their master’s uncharacteristic outburst. Lonsdale slammed the window shut and went back to his brooding contemplation.

  A minute later, as he was refilling his glass from the near-empty bottle of Highland Park, the dogs started again. Lonsdale ripped through the door of the study and went thundering down the stairs, ready to kick the hell out of the two animals for interrupting his thoughts. It was a large house, and he was puffing and red by the time he neared the bottom of the last flight of steps.

  Then he halted mid-stride and almost stopped breathing when he saw the five people standing in his hallway.

  No, not people. It was Gabriel Stone and his entourage. Behind Stone stood the hulking black giant and Anton, the sardonic-looking weaselly one. To his left was the blonde called Anastasia. And to his right, the raven-haired beauty Lillith. Lonsdale hadn’t seen the four since the night of the initiation ceremony. He felt the colour drain from his face all the way down to his shoes. The tumbler slipped out of his fingers, bounced on the stair carpet and shattered on the hallway tiles with an amber spatter of whisky.

  ‘Surprised to see us, Jeremy?’

  Lonsdale opened and closed his mouth soundlessly as he searched for something to say.

  ‘Are you not going to invite us into your fine home?’ Stone asked.

  ‘O-of course,’ Lonsdale stammered. ‘Please, forgive my rudeness.’ He ushered them into a drawing room.

  ‘Hello, Jeremy,’ Lillith said with a seductive smile, gently raking his arm with a fingernail as she walked by.

  Lonsdale cleared his throat and tried to smile. The congenial host. ‘Would you, um, like a drink?’

  ‘That depends on what you’re offering,’ Anastasia said, eyeing his throat.

  Stone gestured at an armchair as if he were in his own place. ‘Please, take a seat, Jeremy. As you may have gathered, this is not a mere social call. We’re here to discuss business.’

  Lonsdale sat nervously, glancing from one vampire to another. They stood around him in a semicircle. Big Zachary folded his muscular arms across his chest. Anton wore a deep frown. Anastasia had one eyebrow raised in amusement and Lillith toyed distractedly with the hilt of her sabre. Stone stood in the middle, his eyes narrowed. Lonsdale couldn’t read his expression, and that worried him more than anything.

  ‘What business would that be, Gabriel?’ he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

  ‘Don’t play the innocent with me, Jeremy. You know what this is about.’

  Lonsdale swallowed. ‘Venice?’ It came out as a squeak.

  ‘Venice. Precisely. Did you not receive my package, containing the equipment and full instructions?’

  Lonsdale tried to swallow again, but his throat was dry. He wished he had another drink. ‘Yes,’ he managed.

  ‘And you instructed the men you hired to follow those instructions to the absolute letter?’

  ‘Use the special bullets to kill the woman, take the man alive, bring back the item and hand it over to me. Exactly as you said. I was very clear.’

  ‘Then where’s my cross?’

  Lonsdale frowned. ‘I can only assume it hasn’t been found yet. I’d have heard something—’

  ‘Lamentably underinformed, Jeremy. As usual, several steps behind the rest of us. Must I do everything myself?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘You have your little contacts, I have mine. And imagine my surprise to hear about a recent minor incident in Venice. It involves four highly incompetent and thoroughly dead thugs, a great deal of spilled blood, and one missing cross that is now in the hands of a human whom I hadn’t ideally wished to possess it.’ Stone sighed, shook his head in disgust. ‘Your continuing failure makes me angry, Jeremy.’

  Lonsdale flushed. ‘Hold on. I saw to it that the special ammunition – Norbenol or whatever you call it – was passed on to the men. What more was I supposed to do, load the guns for them myself?’

  ‘Nosferol,’ Stone replied in a silky voice. ‘And I strongly advise you not to lose your temper with us.’

  But Lonsdale was on a roll. ‘How could I have known they wouldn’t use the stuff? I couldn’t exactly tell them what it was for, could I? “Oh, by the way, you’re going to Venice to shoot a bloody vampire.” These men are common thugs, not Abraham Van fucking Helsing.’

  ‘Were common thugs, Jeremy. And you, my friend,’ Stone added, pointing, ‘are an imbecile.’

  Lonsdale shut up. There was silence in the room as Stone paced up and down the floor.

  ‘I’ve been lenient with you so far, Jeremy. This time, I’m afraid I must punish you.’

  Lonsdale’s jaw dropped. ‘No. Not Toby. Please. I’ll do anything.’

  Lillith chuckled. Zachary and Anton exchanged grins. Anastasia was staring at the politician with undisguised contempt. ‘Let me have him, Gabriel. I’ll make him sorry, believe me.’

  ‘No. I have other plans for him,’ Stone told her. Turning back to Lonsdale, he said, ‘With Solomon in possession of the cross thanks to your cretinous mistake, we are forced to abandon the country temporarily until our agents are able to catch him. And, just as you helped us get in, you’re now going to get us out. I want to be in the air within the hour.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘A freight vehicle will be arriving at the airfield containing all our personal effects. You will ensure these are stowed safely on board.’

  ‘That isn’t possible,’ Lonsdale protested. ‘I can’t get the crew together that fast. You can’t just take off in a jet whenever you feel like it.’

  ‘You will make it possible, Jeremy. Or must I involve young Toby in this?’

  Lonsdale cracked. He slipped off the chair, collapsed to his knees and started crying and wringing his hands forlornly.

  Lillith looked at her brother. ‘So this is his punishment, Gabriel? Making him lend us his flying machine? Have you gone soft?’

  ‘They call them aeroplanes,’ Zachary reminded her, and she growled at him.

  ‘I haven’t finished,’ Stone said, not taking his eyes off the cowering, weeping politician. ‘Lillith, your sword, please.’

  Lillith drew out the long, glittering blade and handed the weapon over to him. Stone held out his left palm. With a deft motion he slashed the sharp edge across his hand, cutting deep into the flesh without a flicker of expression. A trickle of dark blood oozed out of the gash, flowed down his wrist. He tossed the sword back to Lillith, then nodded to Zachary. The big vampire stepped forward, grabbed Lonsdale off the floor and stopped him from struggling as Stone raised his bleeding hand to the politician’s mouth and forced him to drink. Blood dripped down his chin and spattered across his shirt. He swallowed, gasped for air, swallowed some more.

  ‘Good. Zachary, release him.’

  Lonsdale fell back down to his knees, choking and spluttering gobs of blood onto the carpet. ‘Oh, God. What have you done to me?’ he wheezed, clutching his throat.

  Stone dabbed at his wound with a silk handkerchief. ‘Congratulations, Jeremy. You’ve just taken your first step into a whole new world. I hereby nominate you as my replacement servant, bonded to me he
nceforth. From now on, until the day of your death or such time as I release you from my service, whichever comes first, you will act as our personal assistant. Living with us, travelling with us, organising our external affairs and acting as our human liaison officer.’

  ‘That’s a fancy name for a ghoul,’ Anastasia explained helpfully.

  Lonsdale choked out an unintelligible reply.

  ‘Needless to say,’ Stone added, ‘we’ll have open access to all your bank accounts, all your resources and your homes here in Surrey, in London and in Tuscany. I think that’s reasonable.’

  ‘But…the twenty million you t—I gave you,’ Lonsdale gibbered.

  ‘It’s a grand vision we are working to realise,’ Stone replied. ‘An expensive business. I’m afraid we need all the support we can get. You’re not objecting, are you, Jeremy?’

  ‘No way this one could ever take Seymour Finch’s place,’ Anton spat. ‘I mean, just look at him. How can this pathetic piece of shit ever make the grade? He’s let us down already.’

  ‘True,’ Stone said, smiling down at Lonsdale. ‘But he’s a politician, and that fascinates me. Never before have I come across a human so delightfully corrupt, so utterly devoid of moral fibre. He has but one scruple, his love of his bastard offspring – but that will pass soon enough. I believe that, in time, he will make a very fine ghoul indeed.’

  Lonsdale was wild with shock, his hair sticking out at all angles and his face shiny with tears and blood.

  ‘M-my career,’ he stammered in a high-pitched squeal. ‘I could have made Prime Minister. I could have been European President one day.’ He clasped his hands together. ‘Just think how useful I could be to you, with so much power.’

  They all laughed.

  ‘You just retired, motherfucker,’ Zachary said.

  ‘You’ll adore living with us, dear Jeremy,’ Anastasia purred.

  ‘He seemed to enjoy his stay at the castle last time,’ Anton muttered, shooting a sly look at Lillith. Zachary stifled a giggle.

  ‘You get to eat our leftovers,’ Lillith said. ‘After a while, you’ll come to love them as much as Seymour did.’

  ‘And maybe he can get Toby to come and stay with us, too,’ Anastasia added, warming to the idea. ‘I so much like the younglings.’ She licked her lips. ‘Tender and sweet. Hmmmm.’

  Stone grabbed Lonsdale by the hair and hauled him to his feet. ‘Enough of your self-pitying bawling, ghoul. Call your air crew.’

  Lillith wrapped her arms around her brother and kissed him tenderly on the mouth. ‘And so, we move on to Stage Two,’ she whispered.

  He nodded, smiling. ‘We’ll drop you and Zachary off en route as planned.’

  ‘This is the part I’ve been looking forward to the most,’ she said.

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Joel skidded the Ford to a halt outside the Maddon house, went running up the drive and hammered on the front door. The street was in near silence, just the light patter of the rain on the slick pavements. After a few moments he saw an upstairs light come on behind blue curtains. Seconds later, the downstairs hall lit up and a shape appeared behind the frosted glass of the door.

  ‘Who is it?’ said a rasping voice.

  ‘Police,’ Joel replied. ‘Open the door, please.’

  The door opened slowly. Behind it stood a man who looked like a heavier, hairier and balder version of Dec. He was wrapped in a tartan dressing gown and didn’t look too happy to be disturbed.

  ‘Mr Maddon?’

  Dec’s father ran his eye up and down Joel. ‘You don’t look much like a policeman to me, so you don’t,’ he said gruffly. ‘Let’s see some ID then.’

  ‘Mr Maddon, I came to see Dec.’

  ‘Right. Where’s the ID?’

  ‘My name’s Joel Solomon.’

  ‘I don’t care what you call yourself. Show me your warrant card or get the fuck off me doorstep. It’s almost one in the friggin’ morning. People are trying to get some sleep here. We work for a living.’

  A middle-aged woman Joel took to be Mrs Maddon appeared in the hallway with her arms folded. She was about two feet shorter than her husband but looked twice as hard.

  ‘Who is it, Liam?’

  ‘Some joker says he’s a cop,’ Liam Maddon said, still staring at Joel. Mrs Maddon’s brow creased.

  ‘Is this about our Dec? Has something happened?’

  ‘Isn’t he here?’ Joel asked her.

  ‘We’re telling you nothing, mister, until we see some proper identification. This bastard could be anybody, Beth.’ He turned back to Joel. ‘Understand? Now fuck off.’ And he slammed the door in Joel’s face.

  Joel stood on the doorstep for a moment, then sighed and started heading back to the car, wondering what to do next.

  As he was about to get into the Mondeo and drive off, he heard footsteps behind him and a voice said, ‘Psst! Officer?’

  Joel looked round to see another version of Dec Maddon sneaking down the drive towards him. He looked about five, maybe six years older than his brother, dark and unshaven and was built like he did a lot of weights.

  ‘I’m Cormac,’ he whispered.

  ‘Joel.’

  ‘I know who you are. Dec’s talked about you. I’m sorry me da sent you away. He can be a right wanker sometimes, so he can.’

  ‘Where is Dec? I need to talk to him.’

  ‘That’s what I came out here to tell you. Dec’s gone funny.’

  Joel glanced up at the house. The upstairs light had gone off again and the house had fallen into darkness, but someone could still be watching from the window.

  ‘Let’s talk in the car.’ He slung the metal case into the back seat as Cormac climbed into the passenger side.

  ‘Cameras, is it?’ Cormac asked, pointing at the case.

  ‘Yeah,’ Joel said, shutting his door. ‘Now, I think you’d better explain. How has Dec gone funny?’

  ‘Ever since the wee girl next door died.’

  Joel stared at him. ‘Kate Hawthorne? Dead? When?’

  Cormac shrugged. ‘Couple of days ago. Terrible, isn’t it? She just faded away, like. Family’s in a right state. I never liked them much. Bunch o’ snobs, especially that Gillian. But you have to feel sorry for them.’

  ‘Where’s Dec now?’

  ‘Gone to stay at a mate’s. Won’t come back to the house. He’s just acting weird, like.’

  ‘Have you seen him?’

  ‘Just talked on the phone a couple of times. He sounded ill. I went round there but he wouldn’t let me in.’ Cormac frowned. ‘He may be a wee shit, but he’s me brother. I’m worried about him.’

  ‘Tell me where this mate’s place is.’

  ‘I’ll show you the way as we drive.’

  Joel glanced at the case on the seat behind them. ‘I think it’s best if you stay here, Cormac.’

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Cormac had been reluctant to stay behind, but his directions were good and it didn’t take Joel long to find the block of concrete flats in Brewer’s Lane on the other side of Wallingford. Joel left the car in the shadows a few yards down the lane and walked the rest of the way, clutching the metal case tightly under one arm and wondering what he was going to find at this Matt’s place. Metal steps wound up and round onto each terraced balcony. He climbed two flights, checking door numbers until he came to the one he was looking for.

  The pale blue door to Flat 22 was open an inch. Joel listened to his instincts and didn’t knock. He pressed his hand against the worn wood, praying the hinges weren’t creaky, and slipped silently inside. He found himself in a narrow passage that was dimly lit by a lamp shining through from the open door at the far end. Through the gap he could see garish floral carpet, the corner of a peeling James Bond poster tacked to the wall, and the end of an old couch that had someone’s hand resting on it.

  Someone was talking inside the room. Joel tensed, listening hard. The voice was little more than a whisper, but he recognised it as Dec’s. Who w
as he talking to?

  The answer came a second later when Joel heard a low giggle.

  A girl’s voice.

  Joel’s blood turned ice cold. Scarcely breathing and terrified to make a sound, he slowly unclipped one of the catches of the metal case. Then the other. And opened the lid just a fraction.

  That was enough to tell him all he needed to know. The quiet room exploded into uproar. A piercing, wailing shriek of agony and terror. Dec’s voice yelled, ‘What’s wrong, Kate? What’s wrong?’

  Joel slammed the lid shut, sealing the cross back inside its lead lining. He burst into the room to see Kate Hawthorne scrabbling desperately across the carpet, frantic to escape. She made a dive for the window, but he quickly stepped across and blocked her exit. Her eyes were fixed on the case. She backed away like a cornered leopard – frightened but dangerous. She rolled back her red lips and Joel quaked at the sight of the long curved fangs. There was a smear of blood on her chin, and her fingertips were red with it. Her hair was tousled, feral. She was naked underneath the translucent white dress she was wearing.

  ‘You!’ she hissed at him. ‘Policeman.’

  Dec stood frozen next to the couch, watching the scene in horror. His eyes were sunken, his cheeks hollow and colourless. The wounds on his neck looked as if they’d crusted over and been reopened several times. Fresh trickles of blood were running down to his shoulder, soaking into the material of the grimy T-shirt that clung to his emaciated torso. He staggered towards Joel.

  ‘What are you doing to her? Leave her alone!’

  Joel shoved him lightly in the chest, and he fell back on the couch. ‘This isn’t Kate, Dec. Kate’s gone.’

  ‘He’s lying,’ Kate spat. ‘Don’t listen to him.’

  ‘How long has this thing been feeding on you?’ Joel demanded, pointing at her. At that moment, she tried to make another break for it, and he opened the box a crack. A huge ripple of pain seemed to shudder through her body and she collapsed to the floor, thrashing and writhing. Joel smelled burning, saw the smoke rising from her bare flesh. He shut the lid.

  ‘That’s just a small dose of what’s in here,’ he told her. ‘You know what it is, don’t you? You know what it can do to you.’