Hidden - a dark romance (Marchwood Vampire Series #1)

  ‘I see you are still as much against this idea as you were last night.’

  ‘What? Did you think I’d sleep on it and come round to your way of thinking in the morning? Sorry to disappoint.’

  ‘Oh, I cannot talk to you. This is impossible.’ He stood up and strode towards the door.

  ‘So you’re leaving now are you?’ She sat up. ‘Just because you don’t want to hear what I’ve got to say.’

  He turned to look at her and Madison thought for the millionth time how his face could make her weak with wanting. Why on earth was she fighting with him?

  ‘It is not your decision, Madison. It is mine and it was not an easy one to make. I just want your support.’

  ‘You have got my support. You’ll always have my support. It’s because I support you that I don’t want you to make the biggest mistake of your life. If I didn’t care, I’d just say, ‘do what you want’.’ She took a breath and continued speaking, trying to calm down. ‘What is it you’re actually going to do next anyway? What does Blythe want you to do?’

  Alexandre turned back from the door and came and sat on the end of the bed. He put his fingers to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

  ‘I do not yet know. I told him how I was accidentally revived and he said he would take this information back with him. They will consider the best way to proceed and contact me when they have a safe way to awaken the others.’

  ‘So we’re just waiting then?’ She suddenly wanted to end their disagreement.

  ‘Yes, just waiting.’

  ‘So,’ she smiled and tilted her head to one side. What on earth could we do while we’re waiting?’

  He looked at her, puzzled.

  ‘I mean,’ she continued. ‘We could just sit here twiddling our thumbs or ...’

  Alexandre smiled. He stood up and came round to where she sat up in bed. He slipped down the strap to her vest top and kissed her bare shoulder. Then he lifted her onto his lap while she wrapped herself around him. They smiled a truce and kissed, and for a short while they forgot about everything else.

  Later that morning Alexandre received a telephone call from Winston Blythe.

  ‘We have decided how it shall be done,’ Blythe said to Alexandre without preamble.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘We can revive your family with ultraviolet light. We can control the exact quantities they are exposed to and can instantly switch it off if it appears to be harming them in any way.’

  ‘Ultraviolet?’ Alexandre had never heard of it.

  ‘In your time you may have known it as Chemical Rays emitted by the sun. Nowadays we are able to recreate them using a black light otherwise known as a UV light or ultraviolet.’

  ‘So this will have the same effect as daylight?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And when can we do this?’

  ‘Whenever you are ready.’

  ‘I am ready. I miss my family. I want them back.’

  ‘Perfect. You and the others must come to our laboratories in London. We can arrange safe transportation for you.’

  ‘Yes. Good. Tonight.’

  There was a short pause on the other end of the line before Blythe spoke again. ‘Very well. I will send someone to collect you just after sundown.’

  ‘Good. Mr Blythe, I am trusting you with their lives and they are more precious to me than all the treasure in the world. Please only do this if you are confident of a successful outcome.’

  ‘Do not worry, Alexandre. I am more than confident.’

  Alexandre put the receiver back in its cradle and walked into the lounge where Madison sat in a deep armchair looking worried. Her face told him she had heard at least part, if not all of his conversation. She felt sick when he confirmed it was going to happen that night.

  ‘I’m coming with you.’

  ‘You most certainly are not.’

  ‘I am. I’ll be going out of my head if I have to wait here.’

  ‘I do not think Winston Blythe will be ...’

  ‘Stuff Winston Blythe. I have to come.’

  ‘If you come, I shall be too worried about you. I will not be able to properly concentrate on what is happening.’

  ‘Why would you have to worry about me? I thought you said it would be safe, that you could trust him.’

  ‘I do trust him, but if anything goes wrong I need to be fully focused so I can act quickly if necessary.’

  ‘Exactly! And I can help you. I could ...’

  ‘Madison, no. I am sorry, but no.’

  ‘Alex …’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Fine.’ She hugged her knees to her chest and stared into the middle distance. She angrily wiped a tear from her cheek and tried to stop thinking of all the things that could go wrong.

  ‘Please, do not cry.’ Alexandre knelt in front of her and brushed away a second tear that had dripped onto her other cheek. ‘This time tomorrow I will be home and you can meet Isobel, Jacques, Leonora and Freddie. It will be wonderful, Madison. Please, just try not to worry.’

  ‘How many times do I have to listen to you say that to me?’

  ‘This will be the last. After this, our families will be reunited. We will be together and there will be no need to involve anyone from outside. We will be able to relax and to enjoy each other’s company.’

  ‘Well I’m not happy about it.’

  At this last statement, Alexandre gave her a look designed to make her laugh, but she wouldn’t be drawn.

  ‘It’s not funny, Alex. I’m not laughing.’

  ‘I know it is not funny, Madison, but I am just trying to make you feel better.

  ‘I’ll only feel better if you let me come with you.’

  Alexandre did not reply.

  Downstairs in his rooms, they readied the others for their journey. Madison paused to study Leonora. She looked so statue-like it was hard to believe she might soon be walking and talking, that she would be alive. And then she and Ben would have proper family of their own. It was a nerve-wracking thought.

  She’d heard Leonora was independent and quite formidable. What would she make of Madison and her way of life? She would probably disapprove of a lot of things. It would be like having an eighteen-year-old great-great-great-aunt – weird. And Freddie and Jacques? Well they sounded like a good laugh. Ben would love to have them here. They’d be like older brothers.

  She hadn’t told Ben anything of what had been going on. She didn’t want to worry him or raise his hopes. He was better off enjoying his summer holidays without complications. She decided she would only tell him if and when anything happened.

  And what about Isobel? Madison got the impression she was quite a girly girl, which was fine. But then she kept forgetting they were all powerful vampires which was more than a bit intimidating. Madison’s sick feeling returned.

  Alexandre took a long look at each of them before sealing up their crates. The next time he saw them, they would be moments away from awakening. He would have to help them adjust to their new environment, to cope with the shock and upset of their world disappearing. And Leonora and Freddie would mourn the loss of their father. It would be a traumatic time for everyone.

  He knew everything was moving fast, but he could not think about it too much. If he did, he might change his mind and then where would that leave the others? In limbo perhaps forever. No. He was doing the only thing he could. He understood why Madison was upset and sceptical, but he had no doubt she would do exactly the same thing in his situation.

  He took the hammer and drove nails into each of the crates, ensuring no light could find its way in. It felt wrong to hide them away again, but he knew he was doing it for the right reasons.

  At 9.20pm, a sleek black van pulled up in front of the house. Alexandre opened the door as the driver exited the vehicle. He was a beefy man in a tight-fitting suit. Alexandre also wore a suit. Madison had eventually relented and taken him to a gentleman’s tailor where he had half-a-dozen suits made to measure. He
did not care for his casual clothes and they now lay, unworn in the bottom of his wardrobe.

  ‘Mr Chevalier?’ the man asked in a gruff cockney accent.

  Alexandre nodded.

  ‘Good evening, Sir. I’ve come to take you to Hamilton Blythe.’

  Alexandre had already carried the crates upstairs and they were now lined up in the large hallway.

  ‘Are these going in the back?’ the man bent down to lift one up.

  ‘Please leave those. I will take them.’

  ‘It’s no problem, Sir. I can ...’

  ‘No. I will take them.’

  The driver stepped back and watched as Alexandre bent to lift the first of the boxes. Of course, he picked it up as though lifting a scrap of cardboard off the floor. The driver moved aside, a look of grudging admiration skimming his features.

  The driver opened the van’s rear doors and Alexandre laid the crates one-by-one on its carpeted floor. The driver jumped up into the back and began securing them with thick straps but Alexandre motioned to him to step outside. He would see to his family. Once satisfied they were completely secure, Alexandre stepped down and walked around to the front of the van, opening up the passenger door. Madison was sitting there.

  ‘Non!’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied.

  ‘We have talked about this.’

  ‘Uh, no. You talked about it and I disagreed. I’m coming and you can’t stop me. Everything’s sorted. Ben’s staying at a mate’s for a couple of days. If you don’t let me ride with you, I’ll just follow in the Land Rover. I know where the offices are.’

  The driver got into the van, pretending not to hear their conversation. Alexandre shook his head, with a face like thunder. He lifted her out and she began to struggle.

  ‘I will sit in the middle,’ he said. ‘You can sit on the other side, near the door.’ Madison stopped fighting against him.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said

  The traffic was light and the drive was fast and smooth, taking just under two hours to reach the solicitors’ Marylebone offices. No one engaged in conversation. Madison knew Alexandre was cross with her, but she slipped her small hand into his and he took it. He held it in both his hands, running his thumb gently along her fingers and palm.

  She looked chic in a short navy Chloe dress and Alexandre’s eyes were riveted to her slim bare legs. He kept glancing at the driver to make sure he wasn’t looking anywhere near Madison. He was so tense it wouldn’t take much for him to flip. The driver, however, was completely focused on the road. He had obviously been briefed to speak when spoken to and keep his mind on the job and nothing else.

  He swung the large vehicle into a concealed entrance which led down a steep ramp to an underground car park. They drove right up to the far end where about thirty or forty vehicles were parked.  The driver pulled up next to a set of large metal double doors and got out of the van. He approached the double doors and pressed a buzzer, speaking into the intercom.

  Four men in white coats came through the doors, wheeling wide steel hospital gurneys. Madison and Alexandre exited the van and walked around to meet them. Their driver had started unbuckling the straps which held the crates in place, but as soon as he saw Alexandre’s face, he jumped out of the van and let Alexandre take over.

  Alexandre effortlessly lifted the crates onto the gurneys and they followed the white coats through the double doors and along a dimly-lit hospital-like corridor. Madison’s heart hammered against her ribcage. She had a bad feeling about this, but was still glad she had come.

  Seconds later, they arrived at a set of lifts. One of the white coats pressed the button and the lift doors opened. Two trolleys were wheeled into one, and two into another. Alexandre did not like this arrangement as he was loathe to let any of the crates out of his sight, but this time he didn’t protest; he just clenched one of his fists and got into the nearest lift.

  They descended three floors and Alexandre was put in mind of the underground Cappadocian city all those years ago – of secrets buried deep underground. The doors opened and he was relieved to see the other two gurneys outside the doors. Two smart-suited men waited in the lobby. One of them, Alexandre recognised as Winston Blythe. The other, a younger man, he did not know.

  ‘Alexandre, welcome,’ Blythe said, extending his hand. Alexandre shook it.

  ‘This is Madison Greene,’ Alexandre said.

  ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Madison,’ Blythe said, with a smile. ‘We weren’t expecting you, but you are very welcome.’

  ‘Hello,’ she said and then she turned to the other man and fixed him with a glare. It was Vasey-Smith.

  ‘Madison, how are you?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘Might’ve been nice you’d warned me I was moving into a houseful of vampires though.’

  ‘Please,’ Alexandre said softly. ‘Not now, Madison. It is not the time.’

  ‘Sorry,’ she said to Alexandre and turned away from Vasey-Smith.

  Vasey-Smith gave a small shrug and extended his hand to Alexandre. ‘It’s very good to meet you at last. My name is Robert Vasey-Smith.’

  Alexandre shook the proffered hand and shook it once.

  ‘Would you like to follow me,’ Blythe said. ‘I’m sure you’re anxious to get started.’

  The small group made their way out of the lobby, along a plush carpeted corridor, lined with a lot of closed doors. One of the gurneys had a squeaky wheel, the only noise in their dimly-lit hushed surroundings. They turned left and then left again.

  Alexandre could not shake a sense of déjà vu. Flashbacks of the past. Images of ancient darkened caverns and winding narrow tunnels came unbidden to his mind. Of screams and blood and death. He had to try and concentrate, to focus on the present or he felt like he might lose his mind.

  Everything here smelt sterile, of man-made fibres, metal, glass, plastic and cleaning fluids. He realised they were all now standing outside an opaque glass door, waiting whilst Vasey-Smith opened it.

  They filed into a vast high-tech room with a wall of glass at one end - a viewing gallery. A bank of padded benches lined the back of the room and several swivel chairs sat in front of a wide console with rows of buttons and levers. The room was dark. The only source of light came from a few glowing buttons on the console and from the brightly lit room on the other side of the glass window. This looked down onto a large area very much like a hospital operating theatre, with a bed surrounded by complicated apparatus and a cylindrical industrial-sized lamp on a long swivel arm.

  ‘Please sit down.’ Vasey-Smith pointed to the leather benches but Madison and Alexandre remained standing.

  ‘Leave us please,’ Blythe said to the white coats, who exited the room, leaving the crates there. Blythe turned to Alexandre. ‘Please have a seat while I explain something to you.’ He sat himself on one of the black leather swivel chairs and Alexandre sat next to him. Madison remained standing.

  ‘As you can see,’ Blythe said. ‘We are all set up and ready to go, but there is one thing we must do before we proceed.’ He paused and looked at Alexandre who did not speak or change his facial expression, but continued to stare intently at the man. Blythe cleared his throat and continued. ‘To put it simply, we need a live subject to determine the level of cell degradation that is acceptable before complete disintegration of the tissue occurs. As long as we can determine this, we can avoid irreversible damage to the others.’

  Alexandre immediately grasped what the man was trying to tell him. ‘You want to put me under the UV lamp?’

  ‘No!’ Madison cried. ‘I knew this was dodgy. We should leave, Alexandre. There’s no way you can go under that light. You’ll die!’

  ‘I understand your reticence, Miss Greene. And believe me when I say I wish there was another way; but there is not. Without this first step, it will be entirely hit and miss as to whether or not the others survive the exposure. My people assure me they are hopeful Alexandre will no
t suffer any lasting damage, just some discomfort and it will mean the difference between success and failure.’

  ‘That’s bullshit-speak for you hope he don’t die and it’s gonna hurt like ...’

  ‘Madison,’ Alexandre interrupted. ‘It is fine. I do not mind one bit. It will be easy for me to do this. I want to do it if it means there will less of a risk to the others.’

  ‘But more of a risk for you,’ she said.

  Alexandre turned to Winston Blythe. ‘Yes. I am happy to go ahead.’

  Vasey-Smith spoke to somebody on a speaker phone and suddenly, the room below started filling up with people in white coats, setting up equipment and switching on monitors.

  Madison approached Alexandre and put her hand on his shoulder. ‘Please,’ she whispered. ‘I’m scared. Don’t do it. What if …’

  ‘Shhh,’ he put his fingers to her lips. ‘You know I have no choice. You know this, so do not protest.’

  She let her hands drop to her side, realising he wouldn’t listen to her. Alexandre stood and squared his shoulders.

  ‘I am ready whenever you are,’ he said to the two men. He bent down and kissed Madison on the lips, having long-since shed his nineteenth century attitudes to public displays of affection. She ran her fingers through his dark hair and they hugged quickly.

  ‘One thing has just occurred to me,’ Alexandre said to Winston Blythe.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Before I awoke. Madison told me I drank, first from her and then from her brother. The blood may have fortified me against some of harmful effects of the light. I think it may be necessary for the others to drink before they are exposed. In fact, I insist upon it.’

  ‘Very well,’ Winston Blythe said without flinching. ‘I will arrange it.’

  Madison was shocked by the calm manner in which the old man had responded to such a gruesome request. She wondered if he would ask for volunteers or force some poor white-coated stooge to submit.

  ‘Do you also need some for yourself?’ Blythe asked Alexandre.

  ‘No, I have fed recently.’

  A young woman wearing a black suit and glasses came into the room. She ignored Madison and spoke to Alexandre in French.

  ‘Suivez-moi s'il vous plaît, monsieur.’

  Alexandre smiled at her, enjoying the sound of his native tongue.

  Madison looked at the woman whose blonde hair was pulled severely off her pretty face in a neat bun. Bitch.