‘They’ll follow you.’
I think of Michael. ‘Not if I’m human.’
‘Then keep your bloodguzzling nature, stay away from Magix and we’ll give you X.’ Her eyes dance. ‘His head on a platter.’
Somehow I don’t think she means that as a euphemism; she really would deliver his head to me. She nods, reading my thoughts. ‘I’ll even make the platter silver.’
‘Gee. You’re so thoughtful.’ I cross my arms. ‘Why would you do that to one of your own?’
‘He broke our laws.’
‘What?’ I ask sarcastically. ‘Genocide?’
She tinkles out a laugh. ‘Please.’ She shakes her head. ‘No, X gave you blood.’
I frown. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘You used it on the boy.’ Her lip curls and her gaze flicks to Rogu3. ‘X gave you blood and you returned the boy to a human state. Then X did the same for the Michael Montserrat. We are only permitted to turn one vampire. X, however, did it twice. He deserves to pay for his actions.’
I stare at her. ‘Seriously? That’s what’s annoyed you?’
‘It’s not about being annoyed, Ms Blackman, it’s about our morality. Bloodguzzlers make their own choices. If we went around changing everyone, there would be chaos. Our blood is precious and is not to be thrown around like water.’
I can imagine there probably would be chaos. I remember X telling me the first time around that I wouldn’t get any more of his magic blood. But right now, I couldn’t give a cat’s arse about all of this. ‘I don’t have time for this.’
‘It’s a good offer.’
‘Screw you.’
She drops her glamour and her tattoos flash, snaking across her skin. Some of the watching vampires cry out. ‘Think about it,’ she says. ‘And as a gesture of good faith, that woman in the red skirt knows where you need to go to save those children. I’d hurry if I were you.’
I look round, my eyes falling on one of the Renascentia employees – the one who initially tried to escape. When I turn back, the Kakos daemon has gone.
Chapter Twenty-Two: Transitions
No matter which way I look at it, there’s only one thing that counts now. Much as I hate to admit it, the daemon was right. The middle-aged woman has worked for Renascentia since its inception. One of her jobs is purchasing and she’s sent a large amount of interesting medical equipment to the address we’re now in front of. Unfortunately for her boss, she was quick enough to give up everything she knew after the attempt to kill her and all her colleagues. I guess assassination attempts and loyalty don’t mix. Funny that.
Foxworthy has been alerted and even MI7 are on their way. In fact, every damn law enforcement official in a twenty-mile radius is probably screeching over here. I can already hear the sirens. I’m mindful of Phil’s comment about pulling the plug, however. I need to find a way in and I need to find it now.
With my posse of bloodguzzlers at my heels, I stride to the front door.
‘Let’s go,’ William growls. ‘We burst in and take them all down.’
He’s right. About the only thing we have on our side is the element of surprise. I nod grimly. ‘Rock and roll.’
I gesture to the others to keep back then I kick open the door. There’s no sudden alarm shriek but that doesn’t mean Stephen MacIntyre – whoever he really is – and his buddies inside haven’t already been alerted to our presence. I pull back my shoulders and step across the threshold.
A long white corridor stretches out in front. It’s Spartan and pristine in equal measure. There are no doors but there’s a lift at the far end. Bingo. I march forward, my eyes searching for booby traps or cameras or people. There’s nothing.
I stop in front of the lift. There’s a single call button on the left-hand side and I examine it for a moment. A hand snakes from behind me to press it but I grab it and pull it back, then shake my head. ‘No. We take the lift and we’re sitting ducks. There’s only one way in and one way out.’
‘That’s good,’ Beth says. ‘It means they can’t escape.’
I keep my gaze on the lift doors. ‘A cornered animal is the most dangerous of all.’ I mull it over for a full second and then wrench the doors open to reveal the dark lift shaft. It’s a long drop. Of course, I think sourly. If you’re going to build a secret lab to do evil things, then it stands to reason that it’ll be deep underground.
There’s a screech of tyres outside as the first armed police arrive. I frown. ‘If you were an evil scientist who abuses magic and you were surrounded by police and vampires and there was no logical way out, what would you do?’ I ask.
‘Hostages,’ O’Shea says from behind me. ‘I’d take hostages.’
‘And,’ William interjects, ‘I’d kill a few first to prove that I’m not kidding around.’
‘Yeah,’ I agree through gritted teeth. ‘That’s what I’d do too.’ I take a deep breath and jump.
I’m halfway down the shaft before I manage to grab hold of the thick steel wires of the lift mechanism. My shoulder feels as if it’s being yanked out of its socket but at least I stop my descent. Hand over hand, I lower myself down until I’m standing on top of the lift itself. It’s a narrow, claustrophobic space but the ventilation grid in front of me offers some potential. Using my fingernails, I claw the cover off just as Beth lands beside me.
She looks at me dubiously. ‘I’m not a sardine.’
I glance down the dark, cramped tunnel. ‘I’ve done this before,’ I whisper, assailed by memories from my former life – and a bloodbath that took place in front of my eyes. I was human then; now I’m considerably more powerful. Now I’m in a position to act, rather than just watch.
‘Not all of us are petite, pocket-sized imps, you know.’ Although her voice is low, I can still hear a glimmer of amusement.
I shrug at her. ‘If you can’t fit, then wait until I call.’
‘Screw that.’ Her mouth flattens. ‘I saw the look in your girl’s eyes. These wankers deserve to suffer.’
‘You’re preaching to the converted.’ I take a deep breath and wiggle into the vent.
Stephen McIntyre, whoever he really is, might be a criminal mastermind and an evil genius who’s responsible for more heartache than most other bastards I could mention, but he’s not one for keeping up with his housework. I’m constantly forced to stop and brush long sticky cobwebs from my face and hair. The smell is worse than a ten-day-old corpse that’s been left in the sun for too long. I breathe through my mouth and force my way along. I’m aware there’s at least one person right behind me but I’m in too much of a hurry to turn round to see if it’s Beth.
I push forward, trying to stay quiet while listening out for any sounds. I have no doubt that, when it comes to pulling the proverbial plug on all the stolen bodies, Phil was telling the truth. I just hope that MacIntyre really will use them as hostages to make his escape first. It’s the only way I’ll have any leverage.
After several minutes, when the stench is almost unbearable and I still can’t hear a bloody thing, I give up on the vent. I can’t see anything below but I can’t hang around up here forever. I link my fingers together and smash them down on the aluminium. It creates a terrible sound and I pause, but there are no shouts or sounds of running feet. That makes me even more nervous. I slam down onto the floor of the vent once more; this time several rivets fly off. I kick out the panel and drop down.
I’m in a large, darkened room. Apart from some stacked furniture at the far end, it’s completely empty. As I slowly turn and take it in, I realise I’ve been here before, not physically but via Maria’s mind. This is the room where she was held, she and Alice and dozens of others. Even if I hadn’t recognised it, the lingering air of despair and hopelessness is palpable. It reminds me of a school trip I took when I was a child, back when life was so very different. The silence which hovers over those old World War I battlefields tells of a grim and bloody past even without a history teacher barking in your ear. This room ha
s that same tragic aura. I swallow the lump in my throat. If nothing else, being here hardens my resolve to do whatever is necessary. I’m going to ground Renascentia into dust.
There’s a muffled squeak then another shape drops down from the vent. I glance back, freezing when I see who it is.
Maria straightens up slowly and looks around. Even in this gloom, and without my superior night sight, her pale face would be visible. The horrors she experienced here are etched into every pore.
‘No way.’ I march up to her. ‘How did you get here?’
Her jaw works slowly, as if she’s struggling to find the right words. ‘I crawl through vent,’ she whispers eventually. I have to strain to hear her.
I wave my arms around in angry panic. ‘No, I mean here. This damn building! Why aren’t you back at the warehouse?’
She gives me a blank stare. ‘I come in car. With Alistair.’
‘You shouldn’t be here, Maria.’
‘Smegging hell!’ mutters a voice above. Beth’s face appears. ‘Get me out of here!’
I glare up at her. ‘Did you know Maria was here?’
‘How else would she have come down the lift shaft?’ she asks, confused. ‘I helped her.’
‘She’s not a vampire! She can’t be here. It’s too bloody dangerous.’ I point upwards. ‘Maria, you are going back in there and crawling your way back to…’
Beth sighs. ‘She can’t, Bo. There’s a long line of vampires behind me. She’ll have to wait until everyone’s through.’ She wiggles her way forward, performing a neat somersault and landing on her feet. Then she tosses her hair like she’s in a shampoo advert. She doesn’t smile. ‘The girl deserves to be here.’
I ball my hands up into fists. ‘She could get hurt. Or worse.’
‘It’s her decision.’
‘She’s a kid! She doesn’t get to make decisions!’ I put my hands on my hips and square up to Beth.
She blows her fringe out of the way. ‘Has she ever done anything you’ve told her to?’
‘That’s not the point!’ I turn back to Maria to harangue her but she’s wandered off to the far corner. As I watch, she hunkers down and reaches for the wall, her long fingers tracing over something there.
I bite my lip and join her. Suddenly she seems very, very small. ‘What is it?’
She points. I look and my heart constricts. Etched into the flaky plaster are the letters M + A, followed by a heart. ‘Did you do this?’ I ask softly.
Maria shakes her head. ‘No,’ she whispers. ‘Alice must do it after…’ She swallows. ‘Just after.’
I remind myself to breathe. ‘I’m going to get them, Maria. I’m going to make them pay. I promise you that. But you need to stay here. I can’t risk you getting hurt.’
She doesn’t answer, she just stares at the wall. I jerk my head at Beth. ‘Stay with her,’ I instruct. ‘Don’t let her out of your sight.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘Who died and made you boss?’ Then her face drops. ‘Okay. I’ll look after her.’
One by one, the others appear in the room. William seems particularly uncomfortable, clawing at his neck after he drops from the vent.
‘Claustrophobic,’ he grunts. A few seem to be in an even worse condition. The horrid room we’re in doesn’t help matters. I watch with narrowed eyes. When the last vampire, Chester, pops out, he immediately gets to his feet and stands on his tiptoes to hold the fallen aluminium panel back in place. Above our heads the vent creaks and groans. I edge over to the door. It’s not easy to ignore the tiny claw marks round the edges.
‘The place is surrounded by police now,’ Chester whispers. ‘I think they’re preparing to storm it.’
‘Then they’re fools,’ I mutter. ‘With the lift as their only way in, they’re going to be sitting ducks. We need to get moving and stop the bloodbath.’
‘Or start one,’ someone mutters. I don’t disagree.
The door is unlocked because there are no young prisoners to keep trapped inside. I nudge it open with my toe and look through. Outside, the corridor is just as dark but there’s a chink of light at the far end. I gesture at William and Billie. ‘You two with me,’ I say. ‘Everyone else keep back until I give the signal.’
‘What’s the signal?’
‘Lots of screaming,’ I answer grimly. Then I tiptoe ahead.
If I’d expected a welcoming committee, I’d have been sadly disappointed. I kick open the door to reveal nothing more than the hospital bed where, once upon a time, Maria was strapped down. At least this room is cleaner than the rest of the lair. I stare at the two-way mirror. Is someone behind there now, watching us?
‘Now what?’ William whispers.
Before I can answer, there’s a sudden crackle. William throws himself at me, knocking us both to the ground, and Billie lets out a yell. Unfortunately her reactions are slower and she’s struck in the chest by some kind of magic bolt. She collapses and I hear a laugh. Rolling free from William, I spring to my feet.
‘Who’d have thought that a Medici vampire would help Bo Blackman?’ says a disembodied voice. ‘Did you like my little magic display? I’ve been making friends, too. Hybrid witches are very easy to work up into a rabid frenzy.’
I scan round. The magic attack – and the voice ‒ have to come from somewhere; bolts like that don’t materialise out of thin air. I spy a hole in the wall next to the mirror; it looks like some kind of dumb waiter linking this room to the next.
‘It’s such a shame that you all didn’t die when you were supposed to. The bombs were unexpected but a marvellous boon. Why do you think I was so happy to join in with the hybrids when they tried to mop up the mess? You see,’ the voice continues, ‘vampires live long lives. People don’t think it’s fair that bloodguzzlers get to experience so much more of the world but most of them don’t want to have to drink blood to achieve longer life. We offer a better alternative. We’re the healthy option. And Tov V’ra kindly rid us of our biggest competition. It’s not a bad thing that the police are at our door, you know. It means we can go public. There will be some loud noises and complaints for a while, but when we show that we offer what the vampires could not, the possibilities will be endless.’
‘You steal children,’ I hiss.
‘Children who don’t have a future. It’s population control. Besides, think how much smarter the world will be when we have three-hundred-year-old minds to draw from. Soon we won’t need the children from the streets, we’ll grow bodies in test tubes. Clone ourselves then implant our minds into waiting vessels. The public will come around, especially when all the vampires are dead and that option is closed off.’
I snort. ‘Hardly anyone becomes a vampire anyway.’
‘And hardly anyone wins the lottery but it doesn’t stop people trying. Eternal youth for everyone. Don’t you want that grizzly old grandfather of yours to live forever?’
I ignore the question. He’s very proud of himself; like all psychotic tossers – and I include myself in that group – he believes he’s doing good. He likes the sound of his own voice. I want to keep it that way. The more distracted he is, the better.
William kneels down and checks on Billie as I prod further. ‘Alice Goldman has a family. She has a future.’ I refuse to speak about her in the past tense.
‘She was an experiment,’ he says. ‘She ended up causing more trouble than she was worth.’
‘Mm.’ I pause. ‘Tell me, how did you get hold of enough of her blood to make it appear as if she were dead?’
‘Well,’ he says, ‘that’s interesting. You see, I…’
I launch myself at the mirror, aiming smack bang at the centre where the glass will be weakest. It’s neither reinforced nor bullet proof ‒ and it’s certainly not Bo Blackman proof. I guess that when this place was built they never expected it would be the scene of their final showdown. There’s a loud crack as the glass shatters. I ignore the shards and leap through towards three shadowy figures.
I hear a bang and f
ling myself sideways to avoid the shot. I’m too slow, though, and the bullet grazes my shoulder. I wince in pain and shake myself. It’ll take more than that to bring me down. There are whoops and war cries as the other vampires flood through from outside. William abandons Billie in favour of leaping after me.
I straighten up and cast my gaze across the three figures. There’s the human man whom I remember from the street confrontation; he is holding the gun. Stephen McIntyre’s skinny teenage frame lurks next to him, together with Scarlet, the hybrid witch, who has magic sparking up all around her.
The vampires fan out on the other side of the destroyed mirror, each one ready to spring towards us and help win the day. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this powerful before.
‘You’re outnumbered,’ I say, focusing my attention on the fake teen.
He smirks but he can’t quite pull it off; he might look like an adolescent but his attitude doesn’t match his appearance. I’ve spent enough time around real teenagers lately to tell the difference. Real puberty is a one-time deal, no matter what age your body might be. Now I know the truth, I wonder how I could have ever believed he was a kid.
‘Sure,’ he says easily, ‘we’re outnumbered. But I still have the upper hand.’ He raises his hand; clasped in his fingers is a remote control.
Before I can do anything, he presses a button. A shutter begins to rise on the other side of the tiny room. I suck in a breath when I see what it reveals.
It’s another two-way mirror. This one looks into a long room filled to the gunnels with pallets wired up to complicated-looking computer monitors. On each pallet a body lies, eyes closed as if asleep. Most are white haired and wrinkled, but not all.
‘One hundred and thirty-two ancients,’ MacIntyre says. ‘The souls have been swapped but we keep the bodies in stasis. It’s tidier that way.’ He points. ‘You see the one nearest us?’