by Amy Cross
I waited until she was gone, and then I hurried back to the door and pushed it open.
“I'm so sorry,” I said, keeping my voice low as I headed inside and saw Matthias leaning against the wall. “I must have got one of the days wrong!”
He coughed a couple of times, and as he turned to me I saw that his frail, old face was fading and that he was starting to look young again. As he grew sicker and weaker, his features seemed to be betraying his old age more often.
“I guess that was a pretty close call, huh?” I continued.
“It was so strange, seeing her again,” he replied.
“Seeing her?” I paused. “You mean seeing me, don't you?”
He looked at me.
“Of course,” he said after a moment, and now he looked completely young again. Sometimes I though that he only went to all that effort for my benefit. “It's just that she seemed so innocent. I know this will sound strange, but the version of you from before the time travel seems almost like a different person. So many decades have passed since I last saw that version of your face, and it was quite a shock.” He stepped closer and looked deep into my eyes. “Not that I'm complaining, of course. You always look beautiful to me.”
“I should have slipped the ring into her pocket when I saw her,” I replied. “I should have found a way.”
“No, it would have been too dangerous,” he said. “There'll be another time.”
With that, he kissed me tenderly on the lips for a moment, before pulling back.
“Once the coast is clear,” he continued, “we need to go out for a short while. Hugo is close, I'm sure of that, and he'll have eyes and ears all over the city. I need to know what he's planning and I need to know what he's been doing over the past seventy years. One thing's certain, he's had quite a head-start on us.”
“Sure thing,” I replied, “but we're taking the Metro this time. There's no way I'm ever setting foot in that Underworld place again. I don't think I'll ever get over the smell of that Flesh Weaver town.”
***
“Are you sure you're up to this?” I asked as Matthias and I made our way down the steps in the Metro station. “If you want, I can go and do some digging while you rest. Now that I know I got my dates wrong, I can be much more certain that I won't accidentally bump into my older self.”
“I'm fine,” he replied, although I was certain that he was lying.
“I keep trying to remember more about what I was doing in those days when I first met you,” I continued as we headed around a corner. “I was -”
Before I could finish, however, I bumped straight into an old man and sent him tumbling down to the floor.
“I'm so sorry!” I gasped, horrified that I hadn't been paying attention. I immediately crouched down to check that he was alright. “Did I hurt you?”
“We don't have time for this,” Matthias muttered darkly.
“I'm fine,” the old man replied, speaking English with a strong German accent. He winced a little as he sat up, and then he turned to me. “It wasn't totally your fault, I wasn't -”
And then he froze as he stared at me.
“What is it?” I asked, although I was starting to think that he seemed slightly familiar.
I tilted my head slightly as I saw that his nose was quite twisted, evidently the result of a break many years ago. It was in that moment that I suddenly remembered the soldier with the taped-up nose, the same soldier whose foot I'd accidentally shot off in war-time Paris, the same soldier who'd been guarding Judith at Chateau Malafort. Sure enough, when I looked down at his left foot, I saw that it had been replaced by some kind of prosthetic.
“You!” he gasped, his eyes filled with horror. “But how? You don't look a day older than you did back then!”
“We have to keep moving,” Matthias said.
The man turned to him, and his eyes widened even more.
“And you!” he said with an air of stunned disbelief. “You look the same as well! You knocked me out, you destroyed my nose when I caught you breaking curfew.”
“I have no idea who you are,” Matthias replied, stepping around the man and making his way further along the corridor. “Chloe, let's leave this lunatic to pick himself up.”
For a moment, I didn't know what to do. I vaguely remembered having seen the man another time, too, when I was living in Paris. He'd run up to me on the subway and shouted lots of things that hadn't made sense, asking me where he could find someone. The whole thing had been pretty crazy and hadn't made a whole lot of sense, although now I was starting to realize that maybe I'd come to this situation out of sequence.
Finally, panicking a little, I got to my feet.
“What are you?” he snarled angrily. “I never forgot either of you! I knew something odd was going on, right from the start! You knocked me out in General Zieghoff's mansion, I would have died there if I hadn't come round and escaped! Who are you?”
“Sorry,” I murmured, turning to hurry away, “got to go.”
“Get back here!” he yelled. “I want to talk to you! You can't run away from me this time! I'll find you! I demand answers!”
“Good luck with that,” I muttered as I rounded the next corner and hurried to catch Matthias.
“Do you know what that fool was talking about?” he asked, sounding very irritable.
“It's a very long story,” I explained. “I've got a feeling that very soon, he's going to run into the present day version of me, and she'll have no idea what he's ranting about. I'm starting to think that the world's a very small place.”
“We can't afford any more complications,” Matthias replied as we reached the platform and immediately stepped onto a train that had conveniently just arrived. “Let's just stay focused.”
Before I could reply, a woman thrust a leaflet into my hands and then headed off, giving out more to the other people on the train. Looking down, I saw that the leaflet was about a gathering that was being organized, protesting against plans to turn the city mansion of Klaus Zieghoff into a museum focusing on Paris life during the Second World War.
“I guess Zieghoff just went down in history as another Nazi leader,” I muttered. “Maybe it's a good job that Chateau Malafort was completely destroyed. I think his city home should come down as well.”
“I wouldn't be surprised if that's what ends up happening,” Matthias said as the train's doors slid shut. “And it might meet quite an explosive end.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Hugo
All things considered, I think I preferred Paris when it was constantly being bombed and set on fire.
Standing at the window of the room that I had rented, I looked out at the cold street and I found myself wondering how such a great city could look so... dull. Perhaps, I supposed, I had merely allowed myself to become jaded by the human world. On the other hand, I was increasingly of the opinion that humanity worked best during a time of war. When they were at peace, they tended to become arrogant and self-satisfied, flabby and weak.
“I've located her,” a voice said nearby.
Turning, I saw Rimauld standing in the doorway.
“She's taken a small apartment in the city,” he explained. “I've tracked down her place of work, and I've identified several acquaintances who seem quite close to her. Would you like me to kill her tonight?”
“No,” I replied, shuddering at the thought. “I didn't wait all this time just to deal with her in such a blunt manner.”
“Perhaps you should just get this over with,” Judith's voice whispered, drifting to me from the still air. “The longer you let her live, the more chance she has to somehow wriggle out of your trap.”
“She has no chance of escaping,” I told her, turning and looking across the room. “When I committed myself to the asylum after Murhenge, it was because I knew of no other way to get guaranteed, uninterrupted thinking time. Whereas most of the other inmates were slobbering wrecks, I was coming up with the perfect plan. Of course, you alrea
dy know all of this, my darling. You were there with me, night and day.”
“Of course I was,” she purred. “I just worry that you might believe their lies about me, that's all.”
“Never!” I hesitated, before turning to see that Rimauld was still watching me. He looked a little troubled, which I supposed was fairly natural. After all, he was unable to see my darling Judith. He probably thought that I was talking to myself.
“I'll keep track of her, then,” he muttered darkly. “I already have a few people working on that job.”
“And what about the other task that I set you?” I asked. “Have you managed to gain access to the old Chateau Malafort site?”
“I have indeed, although it didn't come cheap.”
“None of that matters,” I told him. “Have a car prepared for me. I want to leave at once.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chloe
“It's true,” the man said as Matthias and I stood in a dusty old library a couple of hours later, out in the sixteenth arrondissement. “Everyone's talking about the fact that Hugo Bane has returned to Paris. They say he was being held in a madhouse for some time, a place called Tor Cliff Asylum. How he ended up there, I don't know. There are rumors that he committed himself. Around the time that the place was destroyed, he got out and came back to France. Lucky France, huh?”
“Have you seen him?” Matthias asked. “Think, Julian. It's important.”
“I haven't seen him myself,” Julian replied, “but those who have say that he's changed. Apparently his body is almost destroyed. There are some who say they can sense death in him, as if he's dead but he somehow keeps moving about.”
“How is that even possible?” I asked.
“It shouldn't be,” Matthias told me. “Then again, Hugo has long been an architect of the impossible. If he wants something badly enough, he'll find a way to get it.”
“They say he talks to himself constantly,” Julian added, “as if he believes that someone is right there with him.”
“Probably Judith,” Matthias replied. “If my brother began to burn, he should be dead. Only Gothos is said to have survived the final fires of death, and even that story is disputed. Vampires must be alone when they die, so perhaps the illusion of Judith is somehow enough to keep Hugo going.” He turned to me. “And before you ask, Chloe... No, I don't know how that works, either. Not really. It's still the closest I can get to an explanation.”
“I've already told you where you'll find him,” I said, feeling as if we were wasting our time. “He's going to be at the Zieghoff mansion.”
“We need to know his plan before we face him,” Matthias replied.
“I've told you what happened. I've lived through these days before, remember? He said he wanted to destroy me, so that I never went back in time. Obviously he gave up on the idea of traveling back himself. He believed that if he stopped me, I'd never go back to the Second World War. The irony is that his actions made sure that I did go back.” I paused. “He captured you, Matthias. He tortured you. You can't let that happen this time.”
“I'm not sure I can stop it,” he replied, wincing slightly. I could tell that, more than ever, he was trying to hold back an immense amount of pain. “There are just a few things that we need to organize first,” he continued. “We need to be patient, but we also need to not be afraid to act.” He turned back to Julian. “How long has my brother been back?”
“Not long at all, as far as I'm aware,” Julian replied. “Then again, I know Hugo Bane of old. He has a terrible habit of trying to sow misinformation, in order to confuse his enemies.”
“He certainly does,” Matthias said, before glancing at me. “Chloe, would you mind stepping outside for a moment? I'm afraid Julian and I must discuss some important matters pertaining to Gothos and ancient vampire texts. You can't be here when we do that.”
“Why not?” I asked, a little annoyed by his attitude. “Because my puny human mind can't handle it?”
“No, because your lovely human mind would literally melt and dribble from your ears if you knew some of the ancient truths.” He paused, waiting for me to leave. “I'm not exaggerating,” he continued, “I've seen it happen to people in the past. Their liquefied brain comes out all... pink and white. It's really gross.”
***
“Liquid brain, my ass,” I muttered as I made my way down the steps at the front of the building. “He's probably just worried that I'll embarrass him by telling people that he got staked through the heart twice on one night. Well, if he thinks -”
“Chloe?”
Startled, I turned and saw a familiar figure coming along the street.
“Seriously?” I whispered, as I realized that maybe time travel had a way of forcing coincidences. “I am so not interested right now, Jackson.”
“What are you doing all the way over in this part of town?” he asked as he reached me. “I thought you were going in to work today or something. You mentioned having to do a bunch of stuff because of your dead friend.”
“Sure,” I replied cautiously, although I was starting to lose track slightly of where Jackson was in the timeline. One thing was certain, however: I couldn't afford to have my dumb, dangerous ex-boyfriend getting involved with anything, especially since I knew that he was secretly being paid to keep tabs on me. “I'm just running an errand.”
“Cool.” He paused. “Do you want to grab lunch?”
“I can't. I'm in the middle of a meeting.”
“I thought you were running an errand?”
“It's complicated. In fact, I have to go back in right now. See you around, I'm sure.”
I turned to go back up the steps.
“You seem different,” he said suddenly.
Stopping, I turned and looked back down at him.
“Don't take this the wrong way,” he continued, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “but you look... older, somehow. More experienced. I've known you a long time, Chloe, and suddenly there's something in your eyes, a kind of sadness. Are you in trouble?”
For a fraction of a second, I was actually a little touched that he'd noticed. Jackson had always been pretty shallow, but this time he'd actually looked at me and noticed a change. Of course, that was only natural seeing as how I'd spent a few years in 1940's Paris, and I knew that the time there had made a difference to my appearance. Not a huge difference, but certainly a difference.
And then I remembered that, despite all of that, Jackson was still a lying, cheating asshole.
“You're a piece of shit,” I said finally.
“Steady on.”
“This is me being steady,” I told him, hurrying back down the steps and making my way over to him. “You're scum, you're the worst of the worst. You should just crawl back into the sewer, because all you do is ruin lives. You almost ruined mine, back in London, and I know you messed around with some of my friends. You were no good then, and you're no good now, and I don't think you'll ever be a good person. Is that cynical of me? Maybe, but I'm not saying that you can't fix yourself, I'm saying that you won't. Goodbye, Jackson. And this time, I very much hope to never see your face again.”
With that, I turned and headed up to the door.
“You don't mean any of that!” he called after me. “We'll talk later, yeah?”
“We won't,” I replied as I headed into the hallway and then stopped. Turning, I looked out the window and saw that Jackson was already walking away.
The strange thing was that, even though I was determined that I'd never speak to him again, I realized that he would speak to me. To the other version of me that's floating about in Paris right now. As far as he was concerned, everything I'd just said to him was of no importance, it'd wash off his back and he'd think we were fine. In fact, I was pretty sure that he'd never mentioned this encounter to me. That was how little he believed me. I was certain, however, that I wouldn't ever speak another word to him again, and that thought actually felt pretty good.
Hearing a door swing open, I turned to see that Matthias was emerging from Julian's library.
“Did you finish your brain-melting conversation?” I asked.
“We did,” he said darkly, and I could tell that he was troubled. “It's as I suspected, there's only one way to stop Hugo. And to do that, I must face him myself.”
“Sure, but I've warned you about what's going to happen,” I reminded him. “Now you can be prepared for all the little stunts he's going to pull.”
Matthias hesitated, and then he nodded slowly.
“Sure,” he said, but there was still a hint of sadness in his eyes. “We should get back to the apartment. We need to keep a close watch on your other self, and we need to find a way to get the ring to her. I need to rest, too.” He winced again. “The pain is getting stronger, Chloe,” he added. “I'm going to have to deal with Matthias while I still have the strength. I'm afraid the clock is ticking.”
“We'll come up with a plan,” I said, stepping toward him and putting a hand on his arm. “We won't let things play out the way they did before. We'll find a way to change what happens to you.”
I waited for him to agree with me, but I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was deeply skeptical.
“We'll find a way,” I said firmly. “We have to.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hugo
The forest had more or less completely reclaimed Chateau Malafort. As I stepped out of the limousine, I saw that the old clearing had now been filled with the overgrown branches of trees. We'd passed some warning signs a while back, telling trespassers to keep away, but I knew deep down that nobody would be foolish enough to disturb the site of Klaus Zieghoff's old home.