The Silver Bird: Immortal Secrets Trilogy Book One (Immortals Secrets Trilogy 1)

by S J Williams

  “Come on!” Henry shouted as he vaulted over the kitchen table.

  Sebastian was already ahead of him. “We’ll need the bikes. There’s no way Barty can make it on foot, not with Effie in tow.”

  Minutes later, they were tearing out of their underground garage, the roar of the engines crashing against the stone walls in the narrow streets.

  Effie cast her eye over her room. It looked like she’d remembered everything but, knowing her, she’d have left something vital. Like her toothbrush or her phone charger.

  Passport, she thought suddenly and pulled open the drawer to the bedside cabinet. There were all her tickets and travel documents. She stared at the tickets. What was Roberto going to do? Book whole new journeys for them? She was glad he was the one footing the bill for this trip because this was not going to be cheap.

  She was gathering up her documents when her eye fell on a folded piece of paper. It was thin and she could see someone had written something on it, dark lines pressing through from the underside. This wasn’t from her notes, she was sure.

  She picked it out and unfolded it carefully. Someone had scrawled a hasty message on the inside.

  She stared at the note, unable to take in the words. She knew this handwriting. She must have seen it written down somewhere. Only it was too familiar, if that was possible. She knew it like she’d know her mother’s handwriting. Better, even. Like she’d pored over letters and letters of it, tracing each line, memorised every letter.

  She gave herself a little shake. She must be tired because she was having a serious episode of deja vu. She closed her eyes tight and took a deep breath. Right. The writing might be spookily familiar but that was fine. No need to go mad over it.

  Opening her eyes again, she looked back down at the note. Her hands were trembling. God. Was she ill with something? She’d been like this for most of her visit to Florence. This called for more deep breathing.

  Sucking in air until she felt light headed, she sat down on the bed and opened her eyes again. Good. She felt more in control now. She checked her hands. No shaking. Finally feeling a bit more like herself, she let herself look down at the note again. The handwriting still raised goosebumps but she ignored them to concentrate on the words.

  Come back, even as a shadow, even as a dream.

  “Euripides.” Effie whispered. It was one of her favourite quotes. It had always tugged on the deepest parts of her heart. What was it doing here, written in this strangely familiar hand?

  It wasn’t all the mysterious letter writer had to say.

  You once told me these were the sweetest words you could say to your lover. I agreed with you then; I still agree with you now, more than ever. Remember me, Effie. S.

  Effie ran her finger over the last letter. It was more than just an “S”. It was a signature and a door into another world. Memories and dreams clamoured from the corners of her mind. The pressure was deafening and yet, she didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, what this all meant.

  Except for one thing.

  “Sebastian.” That “S” meant Sebastian.

  The door behind her crashed open, making her jump and whirl around where she sat, the note pressed to her chest. Roberto stood in the doorway, his hair more dishevelled than ever.

  “You said those men showed you a medallion? Describe it to me!”

  Effie frowned as she tried to remember what the medallion had looked like.

  “It was silver and about so big…” She put the note down so she could show the size between her cupped hands. “And there was a bird… It might have been a lark or a thrush or something like that.”

  “And flowers? Were there any flowers?”

  She looked at him in surprise. “Yes. Around the outside. Do you know it?”

  “Did you see what the flowers were?” He asked urgently, ignoring her question.

  She stared at him. “No, they were just stylised flowers. I was paying more attention to the bird.”

  “Of course you were.” Roberto muttered, a touch scathing. Effie shot him a sharp look but he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring down at the carpet as if hoping it would reveal all the answers to the universe.

  “He must have had it all this time.”

  Effie was pretty sure Roberto was no longer talking to her.

  Still she asked, “Who? Sebastian?”

  Her question pulled Roberto out of his revery. His face set in hard, decisive lines.

  “I need you to stay.”

  “Stay?” She was going to get whiplash at this rate.

  “Yes. They’ll show you the medallion. Hell, he even tried to give it to you.” Roberto laughed, a bleak, mirthless sound. Then his eyes hardened again. “I need you to get that medallion and bring it to me.”

  “Why is it so important?” Effie asked doubtfully.

  Roberto shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. I need it. I need you to get it for me. Will you do it?”

  Effie stared at him. This was not the Roberto she knew. She was starting to doubt that she had ever known Roberto. Was the quietly charming and sophisticated professor all an act? Was she only now seeing the true Roberto? And who was that? A thief? Because that was what he sounded like, a desperate thief.

  But if Roberto was a thief, what did that make Sebastian and Henry?

  “Effie?”

  She jumped and realised she’d waited too long to answer.

  “Effie! You must do this. They will not harm you. They want you. You can use that.”

  “They want me? Who are these people? Roberto, you can’t just leave me with strangers like this.”

  “You want to help me, don’t you?” Roberto asked, advancing on her. The words were those of a friend. The expression on his face wasn’t very friendly.

  “Yes.” She blurted out. There wasn’t much else she could say. This morning, she would have said that Roberto wasn’t a violent man and would never hurt her. Now? Anything was possible.

  “I need the medallion, Effie.” He growled, a hint of menace in his voice. She shrank back before she could stop herself.

  “Okay. I’ll try and… and send you a picture? Would that be enough?” She asked to reassure him. In her mind, she was already making plans to end their relationship permanently.

  “No. I need you to bring it to me. Come back with your original tickets. They’ll try to hold onto you but they won’t force you to stay. Be warned, Effie, they’ll tell you anything to turn you away from me. Don’t believe a word they say. It will be nothing but lies designed to make you trust them. Just do what you have to, get the medallion and bring it to me.”

  This was getting surreal. Had he been drinking or something and she’d just missed it? “Okay. Just… Just tell me why this medallion is so important.”

  For a moment, she didn’t think Roberto would answer. Finally, he said, “It’s a code. Something about the flowers. I can’t tell you precisely. I need to see it, hold it in my hands. Then I’ll know.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

  The roar of a motorbike engine drowned whatever Roberto was going to say. He sprang over to the window and twitched the curtain aside, swearing ripely in Italian.

  “There’s no time. I have to go. They’ll find you, Effie. Go with them but don’t trust them.”

  “Who? Who are these people? Hang on, Roberto. You can’t just leave me here with them.”

  “Just do it Effie.” That growl was back in his voice. “This is my life’s work, Effie. Do this, for me.” He grabbed her hands. The roar of the motorbikes abruptly cut off. Roberto glanced over his shoulder, his fingers unconsciously tightening on hers.

  Ow, Effie thought. There was Roberto’s freakish strength again.

  “I need to go.” He said urgently. “Get the medallion Effie. It’ll all make sense. I promise.”

  “Okay.” She said, fully intending to get out of these rooms and go get herself a room at a hotel somewhere.

  He squeezed her hands a
gain, more gently this time, and gave her a grateful smile.

  Sorry, Roberto, she thought. I’m not falling for your charm again.

  He was gone in the next instant.

  She looked outside. The motorbikes belonged to two men who were now charging towards the street entrance. One of them looked up to the window, his eyes going unerringly to hers.

  Sebastian.

  Her heart gave an unexpected leap in her chest. A shiver of anticipation ran through her. Whatever her mind thought, her body was pleased to see him.

  “I must be mad.” She muttered to herself and hurried to get her suitcase. The street door should be locked so that would give her a bit of time to go out the back way. She wouldn’t put it past these “collectors” to have excellent lock picking skills.

  “Collectors, my arse.” She muttered, huffing out an angry breath when her suitcase wheel got caught on the door frame. Now all she needed to worry about was not running into Roberto and ending up having to explain why she too was abandoning ship.

  She’d got no further than the living room when the front door burst open. Effie froze where she stood. That door was supposed to be locked. Did Roberto go out that way and leave it open? The man was serious about wanting her to get caught by these people.

  I’m in a James Bond film, she thought a little desperately as Sebastian and Henry burst into the room. Both were dressed entirely in black leather. They’d make excellent gangsters, she thought, a little hysterical.

  Henry disappeared, heading straight for Roberto’s room. Sebastian’s eyes went straight to her. He scanned her comprehensively before glancing around the room. Satisfied that it was only her there, he started towards her. She backed away, stumbling over her suitcase and nearly falling. Only the stupid doorframe behind her stopped her from landing on her arse.

  Sebastian halted right in front of her, his body shivering with unspent energy.

  “You need to come with us.”

  Effie raised a haughty eyebrow at him, hiding her shaking hands behind her back. “No, I do not. I don’t know who you are but I do know this: you have no right to dictate what I do and do not do.”

  Henry reappeared. “Bartholomew’s gone.”

  Bartholomew? Effie thought. Who’s Bartholomew?

  “Look, you can’t be here. This is breaking and entering. If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.”

  Effie might as well have been shouting into the wind for all the good it did her. Neither man paid her the slightest bit of attention. Unless you counted the way Sebastian’s eyes would periodically stop on her, as if checking she was still there.

  Fine. She thought. There was no point in making empty threats. Dropping her suitcase handle, she slipped her mobile out of her pocket and dialled the number for the Italian police.

  One large hand closed over the screen, cutting off the call before she could finish making it.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Sebastian told her solemnly.

  “Oh? And I suppose you’re just leaving?” It probably wasn’t wise to provoke the two potentially dangerous men but she was too angry — and scared — to care.

  Henry was staring fixedly at Sebastian. Every now and then, he’d glance at Effie with an expression that seemed to make a point. Sebastian occasionally flicked his eyes to his friend, but kept them mainly on Effie. It was bizarre. It was like they were having a conversation without words. And without even looking at each other?

  This was getting weirder and weirder. Grabbing her suitcase, she reached for her laptop bag to hitch onto her shoulder.

  Only to find it was empty.

  Effie froze, laptop bag in hand. She could have sworn she had packed the laptop, along with all her notes. Dropping her suitcase again, she unzipped the bag, catching her sleeve in the zip in her haste. The notes were there but the laptop had gone.

  “The bastard.” She gasped.

  Sebastian appeared at her elbow.

  “What is it?”

  Speaking before she thought about the wisdom of revealing anything to these people, she croaked out through a throat that had gone painfully tight, “Roberto has taken my laptop. That’s all my work.”

  “He’s taken the portraits?”

  She stared at him, panic surging through her once more. “The gallery!” She took off towards the door. Or tried to. Sebastian caught her arm.

  “Hang on.”

  Effie tugged at his hold. She might as well have been tugging on solid stone. He was as strong as Roberto. Or maybe she was just weak.

  “Let me go. I need to go downstairs to check on the paintings.”

  “Not without us, you’re not.” His hold didn’t budge.

  Effie stilled, her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare threaten me.”

  Sebastian raised his eyebrows at her. “You’re not going out of my sight.” He said deliberately.

  She looked at the door again, torn between going down to the gallery and keeping these men away from the valuable paintings. Panic turned to rage. Damn them for putting her in this position. Damn Roberto. She would happily murder him right now.

  She had to look. The paintings were too valuable just to abandon.

  “Fine,” she snapped, “come too.”

  Leading the way down the stairs, Sebastian hard on her heels, Effie walked right up to the door to the gallery and almost bounced off when it didn’t open at her touch.

  “Ah,” she murmured to herself, rattling the handle. “I’d forgotten it would be locked.”

  “Allow me.” Sebastian murmured quietly, gently pushing her to the side. Effie let him, but watched with narrowed eyes as Sebastian put his hand to the lock and… the door opened.

  Effie blinked. Just like that. No effort at all.

  Sebastian pushed the door inwards but Effie snatched at his sleeve, stopping him.

  “How did you do that?” She demanded.

  “I thought you had some paintings to check?” Sebastian countered evasively.

  Effie huffed but couldn’t deny it. She preceded him into the gallery, giving the lock a narrow-eyed stare as she passed it. Honestly, if she’d wanted to keep the paintings away from these people, she never would have stood a chance.

  Returning her attention to the gallery, she stopped dead in her tracks.

  “They’re gone.” She said, aghast.

  “So it would seem.” Henry said, coming to stand in the middle of the room, gazing around at the bare walls with his hands on his hips. Sebastian was prowling around the walls, pausing where each painting had been, reading aloud the note put up to explain the portrait.

  “‘Amedeo Palagrini’, who is today known as Vincent Stone… ‘Giovanni diCapri’, a.k.a. John Charles… Well, well, well, ‘Friedrich Helmar’, our very own Oscar Mansfeld.” He turned to where Effie and Henry were standing, watching him. “This is quite a collection.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Effie growled.

  Sebastian just shook his head and kept walking. Effie followed his progress with her eyes, sensing that he was the more dangerous of the two. Certainly the more dangerous to her, if the way her body heated just from watching his long, lazy strides had anything to say about it.

  He turned back to Henry and gave him another of those intense stares that seemed to hold a whole conversation. Henry shook his head with a grimace. Sebastian nodded once, his face impassive.

  “Is there anything else you need to see?” He asked her.

  Effie stared round at the walls bleakly. She had spent ages carefully arranging the portraits, judging the light, positioning spotlights, drafting the notes. And all for what? For it to be just taken away as if it didn’t mean anything? It didn’t seem fair that she’d spent a year of her life on this. She didn’t know what was worse, that she’d been taken in all along or that she’d have nothing to show for it except these bare walls.

  A light nudge at her elbow made her turn, a little too quickly, and nearly topple into Henry. He steadied her with a gentle hand but she
jerked away as if stung. She didn’t know how, but they had something to do with this. She’d get to the bottom of it, even if it meant going headlong into danger.

  Sebastian watched Effie with a strange mixture of pride and longing. She had always been magnificent when she was angry. Taking a chance, he dared slip past his shields to taste her emotions.

  Simmering rage emanated from her in a cloud, all of it hidden under an icily polite mask. To see her face closed up now, guarding her inner thoughts even from him, only served to remind him of all that he had lost.

  There was still time, he thought, withdrawing back behind his shields before the intensity of the emotions coming from her became physically painful. There was still time to persuade her to come back to him.

  Henry tapped him on the shoulder.

  We need to get her out of here. Barty or one of his minions could come back at any minute.

  Sebastian nodded, even if he suspected the vampire probably wouldn’t be back. Bartholomew had taken the laptop and the paintings: he had what he needed to carry on with his plot to expose immortals. He didn’t like that Bartholomew was using Effie’s work. It was just too likely that the old vampire would frame Effie to dodge the wrath of the immortal race. That was not a happy thought. He did not like the idea of Effie being in the firing line when immortals and vampires alike came round hungry for vengeance.

  “Effie, we need to know. Where has Bar— Roberto gone?”

  Effie gave him a sharp look.

  “Why are you calling Roberto ‘Bartholomew’?”

  Damn it. They didn’t have time for this. “I’m sorry Effie. I’ll tell you everything later. Right now, we need to know where Roberto has gone.”

  Effie looked around the blank walls with a helpless expression. “Clearly he didn’t let me know about all of this. I have no idea where he might be now. Probably halfway across the country.”

  Sebastian and Henry exchanged another grim look. That sounded a lot like Barty.

  “Fine,” he said, making a snap decision, “we’re leaving now.”

  “Yes, you are.” She said, giving no indication that she intended to go with them. Unacceptable.

  “You need to come with us.”