Scenting Hallowed Blood (26 page)

Salamiel sighed. ‘I am sorry.
The trouble is, my dear, you are mixed up in something far too big
for you to understand.’

She looked up at him again,
greasy rags of red hair hanging over her face. Some of them were
still entwined with ribbons. ‘If you want Shem, you can have him!’
The outburst seemed heartfelt. The poor girl felt betrayed.
Salamiel decided to ignore it.

‘You must be hungry. Come down
and I’ll get you something to eat.’

‘I’m not hungry.’ She was
lying.

‘Lily, I am on your side,’ he
said. ‘When you fight me, you are only fighting yourself. Come now.
I know you feel angry and hurt, but there’s nothing to be gained by
punishing yourself. It feels horrible to be hungry, I know.’

‘I don’t want to see any of the
disgusting
things
that killed my friends!’

Salamiel’s voice remained
soothing. ‘The Emim are gone, Lily. You have nothing to fear.’

Lily pushed a few more of the
stones around the bed. Then she sighed. ‘All right, but I want to
see Owen first.’

‘Of course.’

Salamiel led her to the first
floor room where Owen had been put to bed. Its appointments were
grand; the huge four-poster bed stood on a plinth, surrounded by
tapestry drapes. A window-seat looked out upon the gardens to the
rear of the house and the rugged cliff top. ‘This room is much
nicer than mine,’ Lily said, ‘but I expected that.’

‘Preparations were hasty last
night,’ Salamiel said smoothly. ‘You can choose a new room today,
whichever one you like. I have many.’

‘I want to be here with Owen,’
she said and walked towards the bed.

‘Very well.’ Salamiel followed
her. The boy was sitting upright, clad in paisley-patterned
pyjamas. His pale hair glowed in the dim light of the room. His
skin looked like stone, the skin of a statue. Lily sat down on the
bed and picked up one of Owen’s white hands. She leaned forward and
stroked strands of fluffy, freshly washed hair from his face. ‘O,’
she said. ‘Can you hear me?’

Her brother did not even
blink.

Salamiel gently laid a hand on
her shoulder. ‘Perhaps we can do something to help Owen,’ he
said.

Lily glanced round at him. ‘Can
you?’ Her face fell into a sneer. ‘I don’t believe you. Why should
you do anything? You’re like
him
; a sweet-talking liar!’

‘I’m glad you think I’m like
Azazel,’ Salamiel said. ‘But neither of us follow the lie. Owen was
used for something very special, and he will recover. You mustn’t
judge us, Lily, for you do not yet understand our purpose.’

‘I don’t care!’ Lily said. ‘I
just want Owen back to how he was.’

‘Of course you do. Now, you can
see that he’s comfortable, so why not come downstairs with me. What
would you like to eat? How about a full breakfast?’

He could see the mention of
food stimulated Lily’s appetite. She hadn’t eaten anything since
the previous day. ‘All right.’ Her consent was grudging.

He took her down into the
spacious kitchen, which threw his servants into a panic, for
normally he never ventured below stairs. Ignoring their furious
attempts to appear busy and efficient, he sat down at the head of
the kitchen table and gestured for Lily to sit beside him. Looking
around herself like a wary cat, she did so, and pushed her hair
back behind her ears. Salamiel gave his people instructions to
prepare Lily a meal, then folded his hands on his stomach and
smiled at her. She peered at him defensively.

‘After you’ve eaten, you can
take a bath. I’ll send out for some clean clothes if you like.’

She shrugged. ‘Whatever.’ She
rubbed her face. ‘How long will you keep us here? What do you want
with us?’

‘I’m keeping you here for
Azazel,’ he said. ‘I’m looking after you until he arrives.’

‘Why do you keep calling him
that?’ she asked. ‘He’s Shemyaza. I know that’s his name.’

‘He has many names,’ Salamiel
answered, ‘but Azazel is the one I prefer. Shemyaza is a hopeless
martyr, whereas Azazel is a god.’

‘You’ve not met him yet,’ Lily
said. ‘When you do, I think you’ll realise why he’s called
Shemyaza. There’s nothing sacred in him. He’s selfish and lazy. He
doesn’t care what happens to any of us.’

Salamiel shook his head. ‘Don’t
be deceived. He’s undergone a terrific shock, but he’ll soon be
himself again; the person I knew a long time ago.’

‘You’re like him, then?
Reborn?’

The smell of frying bacon
filled the kitchen. The scent seemed to do Lily good, for she was
already more responsive.
I will give you meat,
Salamiel
thought,
and once you eat of my offerings, you will be mine.
He smiled. ‘Unlike Azazel, I never died,’ he said. ‘I was
imprisoned and tortured for millennia, and eventually forgotten
about. I was weak and without power, but some years ago, a Grigori
adept found me and brought me back to consciousness.’

Lily laughed. ‘It’s like a
horror film. You’re like a vampire or something.’

Salamiel smiled, a conspirator
to her joke. ‘I suppose I am — a little.’ In fact, he was nothing
like that at all.

‘I can’t believe you’re that
old,’ Lily said. She was daring to tease him now.

‘Neither can I,’ he
answered.

Lily frowned. ‘Now that I’m
away from Shem, I don’t really want to see him again. I loved him
once, but he’s changed. I think it was easier to love him when he
was evil, because he...’ She struggled for words. ‘He
cared
about people, in a weird sort of way. I know he loved Owen and I,
no matter what he did to us. Peverel Othman would have restored
Owen after his ritual, but Shemyaza is not the person we knew
before. Now, he’s a husk, and his indifference is worse than
anything else.’

‘He was never what you would
call evil, Lily,’ Salamiel said.

Lily glanced at him. ‘You
weren’t there! He took control of people and destroyed them. But
never us. I thought we were safe, Owen and I.’

‘You’re safe now.’

Lily shook her head. ‘How can I
believe you? Look what happened in the Assembly Rooms.’

Salamiel could tell she wanted
to believe him, for she felt lost and insecure. She wanted to
believe she might have found an ally. ‘I’m sorry for what happened.
We were desperate to secure Azazel, and because of that, lives were
lost. It was not my fault, but that of the Grigori who were also
intent on capturing Azazel, the ones who succeeded in doing
so.’

‘Is he in danger?’

Salamiel shook his head.
‘No-one can hurt Azazel now. He is too powerful.’

‘I wouldn’t be too sure about
that.’ She spoke with such conviction that Salamiel, for a moment,
experienced doubt and fear.

‘Later, someone is coming to
meet you,’ he said. ‘Her name is Sofia. This afternoon, she is
meeting with Azazel. He’s quite nearby, Lily, but just with the
wrong people. Your friend Daniel is with him too. You will all be
reunited soon.’

‘Is Shem being held against his
will?’ she asked.

Salamiel shook his head. ‘I
don’t believe so. He needs guidance, that’s all. As yet, he is
unaware of me. Once he realises I am near, he will leave the
stronghold of the Parzupheim and come to me. If anyone tries to
stop him, he will destroy them.’

‘You don’t sound very sure,’
Lily said.

Salamiel risked a partial
confession. ‘This is a delicate time. Of course, I am anxious and
will remain so until Azazel is safely beside me.’

‘Are you in love with him too?
Most people who meet him seem to be.’

‘I love him,’ Salamiel said,
‘but that is not the same as being
in
love, is it?’

Presently, Lily’s meal was laid
before her and Salamiel watched in satisfaction as she devoured it.
She was not just hungry, she was starving.

As she was eating, Salamiel
summoned his secretary, a human dependant named Nina. From her
appearance, she appeared to be stuck in the ‘Sixties: a bright
creature of enthusiasms, who wore a white crocheted mini-skirt and
pale lipstick. But perhaps she was just a victim of the most recent
fashions. Salamiel instructed her to go into the nearest town and
buy Lily some clothes. ‘Something smart, but comfortable and
feminine,’ he said.

Lily just smirked, shovelling
fried egg into her mouth.

When she’d satisfied her
hunger, he took her back upstairs and left her in his personal
bathroom while he attended to some mail at his bedroom desk. He
could hear her splashing around in the bath next door. Her youth
and her vitality were intoxicating. He realised he liked her. Would
Azazel approve of this? He hoped so.

Lily came to find him, swathed
in his black towelling bathrobe, her wet hair hanging around her
shoulders. She wasn’t afraid of him now, but trust was still some
distance away. She smelled fresh and clean and her bare feet left
wet prints on the thick carpet.

‘Would you like some coffee or
tea?’ Salamiel asked her.

‘Yes please. Tea.’ She sat on
his bed as he picked up the phone extension. ‘This is a wonderful
house. My father lived in a house like this, but I never explored
it properly. It was all shut up and abandoned by the time I was
born. Do you know my father?’

Salamiel uttered a terse order
to the servant on the end of the line, then turned in his seat as
he replaced the phone. ‘Who is he?’

Lily wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m
not even sure he’s still alive. His name was Kashday
Murkaster.’

Salamiel stared at her with
round eyes. Kashday? Was it possible this was the living daughter
of one of his brethren? Kashday had been a confederate of Azazel’s,
caught and punished for his misdemeanours thousands of years ago.
It was possible this girl’s father had merely been named as a child
for the renegade Watcher, but the idea that it might
really
be Kashday was too alluring to ignore. Salamiel was a firm believer
in the power of coincidence or synchronicity. ‘I think I might have
known him,’ he managed to say.

‘I can see that in your face,’
Lily said. ‘It was like you saw a ghost.’

Salamiel was annoyed that Sofia
hadn’t seen fit to apprise him of this morsel of knowledge. He had
no doubt the woman was aware of Lily’s heritage. Sofia would think
it was none of his business for it had no bearing on his present
task. ‘Kashday was a colleague of Azazel’s,’ he said.

Lily nodded. ‘I know. It’s
weird my father has the same name.’

‘Perhaps not.’

Lily flicked him a sharp
glance. ‘No-one knows where he is now. He’s probably dead.’

‘Maybe we can think about that
another time,’ Salamiel said, smiling. ‘For now, we have to
concentrate on getting Azazel and his followers together
again.’

Shemyaza did not sleep despite
his exhaustion. As Enniel’s soft-footed bottelier had led him up to
the grand guestroom provided for his use, he had sensed Daniel’s
approach to the house. Dismissing Austin as soon as he’d entered
the room, Shem turned out all the dim lamps and went to open the
curtains. Outside, the sky was pearly grey, and the lights of a car
shone on the gravel driveway. He could sense that Daniel was in the
car, but there were others around him. Shem sent out a beam of
thought to Daniel, requesting the boy to seek him out as soon as he
could get away from his companions, but then he realised, with some
alarm, the thought did not make contact. Someone was monopolising
Daniel’s attention, physically and psychically. It could only be
the one named Taziel, the other inconvenient relic from Peverel
Othman’s past. Shem sighed and turned away from the window. He sat
on his bed cross-legged, and concentrated on following Daniel’s
progress into and through the house. He took great care to shield
himself from Taziel’s awareness, for he could sense it was keen and
acutely attuned to him. There was a familiarity about Taziel’s
etheric body, which Shem realised he had picked up on vaguely in
the Assembly Rooms. So Enniel had used this past lover to track him
down. Aninka and Taziel; the avenging angels. Aninka was no problem
— she was too hurt by Othman’s betrayal — but Taziel was another
matter. He sought to control Daniel. Shem smiled to himself even as
he thought of this. There was no way he’d let that happen.

Consequently, Daniel’s
behaviour in the drawing room was a great shock to Shem. It was so
unexpected. He had believed Daniel would not contaminate himself
with others. He had thought that Daniel, with his strong morals and
sense of loyalty, would remain true to Owen, despite the condition
he was in. Had he misjudged Daniel? Where had this provocative,
sensual creature come from? Was it a product of what had happened
at the High Place in Little Moor? Daniel had been so innocent
before then, almost like a child.
My fault, my fault,
Shem
thought, as he forced himself to witness every crucifying detail of
what Daniel did with Taziel. He knew that Daniel could sense his
astral presence in the room, yet it didn’t stop him making love to
this interloper. Where was the modesty that had been such a part of
him? Gone, ripped from him by terror and dark knowledge.

Shem had to force himself to
tear his awareness out of the room. He sat gasping upon his bed,
feeling as if he’d been punched in the stomach. There were tears on
his face, but he began to laugh softly. He wiped his eyes.
Daniel, you have reached me. Wasn’t this what you wanted?
Haven’t you been nagging me to wake up?
Still, he wished it
could have happened in a different way.

He spent the next six hours or
so trying to gather his thoughts and his strength. As he meditated,
he became aware of resources within himself that he’d previously
been unaware of. It was like discovering new limbs. He did not yet
know how to use them, or even how strong they were, but simply
observing their existence was enough for now.

At one o’clock precisely,
Austin came tapping at his door. Shem informed the man he would not
be coming downstairs just yet, and requested a light meal. ‘Please
bring me a pen and some paper,’ he said.