Uprising (30 page)

‘So fickle. Frailty, thy name is woman.’

She went to kiss him again, but he stopped her. ‘I’d like to see you in costume,’ he said.

‘Costume?’

‘For the role you’re going to play. Lillith will take you up to the dressing room. Here she is.’

Kirsty turned in surprise to see a woman slinking her way across the library towards them. She was extremely beautiful. Jet black curls tumbled down over her shoulders and the glistening black leather outfit that hugged her lithe figure. Her skin was like ivory in the soft light. Her eyes glittered black as she approached.

‘You called me, Gabriel,’ she said without taking her gaze off Kirsty. Her voice was dark, smoky.

‘I didn’t notice,’ Kirsty laughed nervously.

‘My sister and I are very close,’ Gabriel said. ‘You might say almost telepathic.’ He tenderly stroked Lillith’s shoulder. ‘Would you take Kirsty upstairs now? I’ve left out the costume for her.’

The champagne mist parted as if it had been cleft by a blade. Kirsty frowned. ‘You left it…But how—’

‘That’s right,’ Gabriel smiled. ‘I picked it out for you before I left the house.’

‘My brother always prepares things in advance,’ Lillith purred.

Kirsty suddenly felt edgy. She looked at her watch. ‘Maybe you should take me back to London. We can talk about the film another time.’

‘Come with me, Kirsty. You’re going to love it.’ Lillith took her arm. Her grip was soft but firm. Kirsty wanted to protest, but something in the woman’s eyes made it impossible to resist. She allowed herself to be led away. Lillith spoke gently, sweetly, as they walked together out of the library and up a winding red velvet staircase. Gilt-framed portraits seemed to leer at Kirsty out of the shadows as Lillith escorted her down a long corridor. Then they were in a room filled with clothes, like the biggest walk-in wardrobe she’d ever seen. Draped over an ornate chaise longue was a beautiful long white silk dress.

Lillith smiled warmly. ‘Go on. Put it on.’

Kirsty picked it up hesitantly. ‘It’s a little low-cut, don’t you think?’

‘You’re going to look gorgeous in it.’

Kirsty took the dress behind a screen and began stepping out of her clothes. It was as if she was someone else, no longer in control of her own actions. Everything felt hazy and distant. As she emerged from behind the screen wearing the white dress, Lillith drew a breath.

‘There. Didn’t I tell you? My brother has an eye for beauty.’ She came up close. ‘Let me zip you up.’ She ran her hands over Kirsty’s naked shoulders. ‘So warm and soft,’ she murmured. ‘Like velvet.’

Kirsty tried to move away from her. The closeness of another woman was strange, and Lillith’s fingers moved on her skin like a lover’s.

‘Come and look at yourself.’ Lillith guided her to the tall mirror and stood behind her, still touching her shoulders. ‘See how beautiful you look.’

Kirsty gazed into the mirror. She looked herself up and down, thinking she looked like the bride in someone’s fantasy. Then she looked at Lillith’s reflection behind her.

Lillith was smiling as she ran her fingers through Kirsty’s hair. ‘You ought to wear it up, like this. Don’t you think?’ Her lips were full and red. Then they parted. Kirsty stared at the white canine teeth that were suddenly grown hideously long and curved and sharp. The fangs bore down on her exposed neck.

Kirsty screamed. Twisted away and burst out of the dressing room. She was screaming wildly as she ran all the way back down the corridor. The portraits watched her and seemed to sneer.

Gabriel was standing at the end of the corridor. Kirsty flew into his arms, and he gripped her tightly. She screamed again as she saw Lillith moving fast towards them, her teeth bared in a vulpine grin.

‘Get her away from me!’ she shrieked.

He pointed at Lillith. ‘Stay back,’ he hissed at her.

Then Kirsty looked up at Gabriel. There was a look in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. Not in anyone’s eyes, not ever. She froze. His mouth opened and he leaned towards her. This time, not for a kiss.

‘The first bite is mine,’ he said.

And the blood spattered down across the white silk of Kirsty’s dress.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

The Metropole Hotel, Venice

3.02 a.m. local time

Alex and Joel had made love for hours in the pool of moonlight that flooded across the satin sheets.

‘You’re incredible,’ he’d gasped afterwards, as he held her tight. ‘You’re going to kill me.’ She could have gone on and on, but he was completely spent and worn out, and soon fell back into a deep sleep with his arm draped across her naked body. She lay there beside him in the rumpled bed, caressing his cooling skin, listening to the rise and fall of his breathing, her senses bright and alert.

She was sailing into uncharted waters now and she knew it. If VIA ever had the slightest inkling of what she’d just done, it was all over for her. Not her service record, not even Harry Rumble’s intervention, could save her from the punishment that was carved in stone on the Federation’s sacred list of commandments. They had the power, and they’d use it. She’d be arrested and taken straight to the execution chamber. Strapped in a chair, hardened steel loops around her wrists and her neck. She’d be forced to watch as the vampire executioner filled a syringe from a vial of Nosferol. Then the needle would come closer, and closer. The jab of pain as it stabbed into her arm. The agony as the poison ravaged her body, twenty seconds of horrific screaming torment that lasted longer than a century of walking the earth. There was no pain like it. The horrors that humans had inflicted on their own kind, the witches and martyrs and torture victims through the ages, didn’t even come close.

She shuddered. Joel stirred beside her, muttered her name and rolled over, still fast asleep. She carefully disentangled herself from his arms and stepped naked into the moonlight. She picked up the trail of clothes that lay strewn across the rug and dressed quickly and quietly.

The familiar old tingle was coming over her. She needed to feed, and soon. Glancing back over at Joel’s still form under the sheets, for a few intoxicating moments she could sense nothing but the blood pumping through his veins as he slept. Its rich tang filled her nostrils, and she could almost taste the warmth of it on her tongue, running down her throat. Her heart began to quicken as a force that was stronger than her threatened to impel her towards the bed. Not to love him this time, but to bite him. Her fangs began to elongate in her mouth.

This was the dangerous time, when nothing that lived and walked and bled was safe.

Get out of here, Alex. Now. You can’t do this to him. Not him.

She tore herself away. Out on the balcony, she glanced down to the narrow street that separated the hotel from the banks of the canal. She looked left, then right. There was nobody around. But there would be, somewhere out there, walking the street. And they were hers.

She flipped herself over the edge of the stone balustrade, dropped the twenty feet to the ground and landed without a sound.

Now it was time to hunt.

Wallingford

2.06 a.m.

Dec was lying sprawled out on the couch at Matt’s place. On the table next to him were the remnants of a microwave meal he’d managed to stagger into the kitchen to prepare earlier that evening, but hadn’t had the stomach to eat. He had no idea how long he’d been staring unfocused at the television. The images on the screen made no sense to him. Some kind of movie with lots of car chases, but he kept drifting in and out and couldn’t follow it. Feverish extremes of hot and cold kept washing over him, leaving him sweltering one minute and racked with shivering the next.

He had only the vaguest notion of what he was doing here. His memories were all confused and mixed up. It was impossible to get comfortable on the couch; he could hardly move without getting nauseous and every twist of his body brought a sharp pain in his neck. He touched the sore spot with his fingers, then withdrew them with a wince as he felt the raised puncture marks, crusted in dried blood. What had he done to himself?

He became aware of a strange sensation in his groin, like a pulsing tingling feeling – then realised it was his phone vibrating in his pocket. He took it out groggily and pressed it to his ear.

His brother’s voice. ‘Where are you? Me ma’s going mad with worry and me da’s about to have a fookin’ heart attack. Why have you not come home?’

‘Hi, Cormac,’ Dec slurred into the phone.

‘What’s wrong with you, bro?’

‘I’m okay,’ Dec lied.

‘Speak up. I can hardly hear you.’

‘Tell them I’m fine. I just want to be alone for a bit.’

‘Where are you?’ Cormac said again.

‘Promise not to tell,’ Dec muttered.

‘You know I won’t clipe.’

‘I’m at Matt’s place,’ Dec said. Then there was sudden silence on the phone. He squinted at the screen and saw that the battery had gone dead. He swore weakly and let the phone tumble out of his hand. He closed his eyes.

He didn’t know how long he’d been out of it when a sound woke him.

It was the sound of something scraping against the window. With an effort, he propped himself up on his elbows and peered across the room.

The curtains were open. On the other side of the glass, standing on the window ledge, was Kate. She ran her nails down the pane and looked at him imploringly.

‘Let me in, Dec. Please.’

Dec fell off the couch and started crawling across the floor towards her. Halfway to the window, he stopped. He put one hand up to the wounds on his neck.

This isn’t Kate. Kate’s dead.

‘It’s so cold out here, Dec,’ she mewled. ‘Don’t you love me any more?’

He hesitated.

‘Let me in,’ she pleaded. ‘I want to be with you. I’ve
always
wanted to be with you.’

She looked so sad and pathetic and vulnerable out there. His heart went out to her. He managed to grab the backrest of a chair and haul himself unsteadily to his feet. Staggered the rest of the way to the window. Reached out and grasped the window catch.

Chapter Sixty

The Metropole Hotel, Venice

6.23 a.m. local time

‘Where did you go?’ Joel mumbled sleepily from under the covers.

Alex froze where she stood on the balcony. Behind her, the light of dawn was breaking over the Venetian skyline. For a second she thought Joel had seen her climb over the balustrade from the street below, and her mind raced to find an explanation for the unorthodox entrance.

‘I didn’t hear the door,’ he said, rubbing his eyes and sitting up in bed, and she could breathe again.

‘I sometimes don’t sleep well at night,’ she explained nonchalantly. ‘A walk helps. Didn’t want to wake you.’

Joel kicked his legs out from under the rumpled sheets. ‘You should have woken me. I’d have come with you.’

She smiled. ‘A girl likes to be alone sometimes.’

‘What about now?’

‘Now I want to be with you.’ She walked over to the bed and rested her hands on his shoulders.

‘I can’t believe you were just out in the cold. Your hands are toasty.’

‘I have good circulation,’ she said. Especially when her veins were filled with someone else’s fresh blood. The recent memory of last night’s two victims replayed in a flash through her mind. The first had been a young guy on his way home from a late-night bar. She’d stalked him in silence for a few hundred yards before jumping him in an alleyway.

The second had been something of an indulgence. She’d been making her way back to the hotel, crossing a bridge when a solitary gondolier had appeared like a vision through the pre-dawn mist and drifted up the canal beneath her. Too much to resist. By the time he’d realised he had an uninvited passenger, his blood was being sucked from his neck.

She’d only just had enough Vambloc left for the second one. Running out was a big worry.

But now, at least, Joel was safe with her. And that mattered a great deal.

‘Look what we did to this bed last night,’ he said, smiling as he started unbuttoning her coat. ‘It’s wrecked.’

‘Impetuous,’ she murmured. The coat slipped from her shoulders, and then his fingers were running up under her blouse. She pushed him down on the bed and clambered astride him.

After making love for the second time in a few hours, they called room service. During breakfast in bed, he kept looking at her and wanting to clasp her hand. ‘This feels so weird to me,’ he said. ‘We’ve only just met, but it’s like I’ve known you all my life.’

‘Maybe you have,’ she replied.

It was bright, crisp and cold as they wandered the streets and squares of Venice. Hours of discussion, of studying the notebook and racking their brains still hadn’t led them anywhere, and the day was beginning to pass them by with nothing to show for it.

By the time noon had come and gone, they were walking almost aimlessly through the old city. On their left, row after row of moored boats and gondolas drifted on the sparkling waters of the Grand Canal as they passed the Doge’s Palace and the Archaeological Museum. During high season the place would have been swarming with thousands of people, but today only a thin smattering of tourists were ambling around the spectacular sights, snapping cameras here and there as their guides pointed out sites of interest and rambled through the history of the different buildings.

‘What are you looking at?’ Alex smiled, catching Joel’s eye as they walked under the pale sun.

‘I was admiring the view,’ he said, not taking his eyes off her.

‘You’ve got to keep your mind on what we’re looking for.’ She tried to sound reprimanding, but the grin on his face was infectious, and she couldn’t stop her smile from widening. ‘Be serious.’

‘I am serious. I want to find this thing and go home. You know, that looks heavy,’ he added, pointing at the colourful backpack she was wearing. Whatever she was carrying inside, the straps were strained tight over her shoulders. ‘Want me to take it for a while?’