Ahead of Adele was the ruin of a memorial arch and, beyond, another heavy, nearly impassable forest that had once been charming Green Park. She ran along the only open path available, the old broken road of Constitution Hill. On her right was the scorched, cratered wasteland where Buckingham Palace had once stood.
Adele and Greyfriar continued west down the center of a stately tree-lined avenue, now overgrown and wild. Greyfriar raced ahead. Then he veered to the right, shot through the trees, and leapt to a ruined building, scurrying effortlessly up its side. He was on the slate roof in seconds and legging after the sailing vampires across the jagged landscape of peaks and chimneys.
Forced to take a slower path, Adele ran all the harder to keep them in view. She was truly laboring now, hardly in prime fighting shape. A razor sharp pain cut into her side with each ragged breath. She lost sight of her quarry in the high spires of steeples and towers, but then glimpsed Greyfriar’s fluttering cloak against the stars.
She stumbled over a large mound of garbage and her boots kicked into a pile of burnt bones. A blackened skull rolled ahead. Her stride stumbled as the face turned toward her, showing the sharp needle canines grinning at her.
Adele recoiled. In her first trip to London nearly two years ago as a captive of the fearsome British vampire clan, the pile of cadavers would have been human. Now the dead scattered around were all vampires, all members of that very clan. Gareth’s clan. Slaughtered by her. Forcing herself past the telltale bones, Adele pushed west with legs pounding, but the horrific image of the countless charnel piles across Britain haunted her.
Greyfriar appeared suddenly in front of her. “Gareth!” she shouted as she clutched his arms in relief, unmindful that she had used his true name in human territory.
“Are you all right?” Greyfriar’s head tilted in concern as his hand lifted to hold her.
“Did you lose them?” Adele prayed he didn’t feel her shaking, She immediately regretted her accusatory tone.
“Of course not,” he offered calmly. “They disappeared into a ruin on the far side of the river. I came back to get you. Against my better judgment.”
Adele’s regret at her sharp response quickly fled. “We’ve discussed this already.”
“Discussing and agreeing are two different things. Your geomancy is useless here.”
Adele shook her head. They moved past the dark bulk of Big Ben and Parliament onto Westminster Bridge. Finally, she had enough wind to say, “They’re real, aren’t they? Vampires in Britain again.”
“Yes.”
“We need answers. People are scared, and I don’t blame them. They’d just gotten used to the idea that they were free. I promised these people safety.” Adele hissed angrily, “Vampires shouldn’t be here. They shouldn’t be able to set foot in Britain without withering. There’s only one vampire who should be able to live here, and that’s you.”
Greyfriar had no answers for her, and he wasn’t prone to abstract speculation. They left the bridge for the bleak landscape of Lambeth. He hardly glanced at the scattered bones of his clan that littered the streets. Adele wondered how he could remain so impassive.
They rounded a corner and Adele stopped at the sight of a dome rising above scraggly trees. Beyond a partially tumbled wall, and through the twisted trunks of a gloomy forest, she could see a sprawling building. It was a heavy institutional pile, devoid of art, thick and immobile, with an air of anger. She got a chill.
“They went in there?” Adele asked.
“Yes.” Greyfriar shoved aside the ruined metal gate and slipped among the trees.
“Shouldn’t we find a less obtrusive way inside?” Adele quickly followed. She studied the dark woods for more shining eyes. Their feet crunched in the gravel as they approached the portico.
Adele looked up at the heavy pediment. In carved letters discolored by moss, she read Royal Bethlehem Hospital. She suppressed a gasp.
“Bedlam,” she whispered.
“What?”
“I’ve heard of this place. It was a famous asylum.”
“Are you still going in?”
“Of course.”
Scowling, Greyfriar gave a cursory glance around, then lifted his head as if scenting the air. “Be ready.” He wrenched the doors open as quietly as he could, creating a narrow gap. A horrible stench crowded their nostrils.
Adele put her arm across her nose. “Decaying flesh.”
“They probably brought some of their meals here,” was Greyfriar’s quick assessment.
Adele grimaced. “It will be their last supper.”
Together they entered the darkness of the madhouse.
CHAPTER 4
The halls of Bedlam were silent and surprisingly free of detritus. In some of the corners, bodies lay torn and bled, tossed aside like so much trash. They were all relatively fresh, hence the stench. They passed a few rooms filled with objects of domesticity, such as tables and chairs, lamps and curtains, an indication that humans had lived here recently.
Greyfriar’s attention was drawn to the distant end of the hallway. He pointed into the darkness and then put a finger to his lips. Adele nodded. They crept down the hall until she saw a double door. They slipped up to it and she put an ear against the cracked wood. Adele heard nothing, but she trusted Greyfriar implicitly. If he said their quarry was inside then they were inside. There was no telling how large the nest was. They had chased only two here, but it didn’t mean there weren’t more lurking inside the defunct madhouse. Greyfriar gripped the door handles and made ready to yank them open at Adele’s word.
She sheathed her sword and pulled a revolver. She lifted her glowing khukri with its Fahrenheit blade, coated in a terrible burning chemical that could do significant damage even to a vampire. Adele nodded. Greyfriar’s shoulders bunched and he flung open the doors. Adele rushed in. She immediately spotted six hunched figures perched on a long mahogany table. All of them writhed and quivered like the vampires in Hyde Park. They rose to their feet to face Adele and Greyfriar.
The mob rushed forward. Greyfriar leapt ahead to meet their charge. Adele shook her head at him, but then joined the fight. Two struck at her with their claws, but their shuddering limbs made their aim unreliable. Her dagger deflected the attacks easily. Her pistol fired at the forehead of one and its head snapped backward. Adele ducked under the swipe of the other, thrusting the khukri into its chest. Its brain tried to register why it suddenly couldn’t kill the smaller woman in front on it. Then it died as she yanked out the steaming steel.
Two vampires surged past their crumpling companion and Adele backpedaled for more room. The ornate blade arced in front of her, slicing through the throat of one. The other lunged and she fired her revolver, but claws dug into her shoulder and flung her across the floor. Weapons flew as she landed hard. Her hands grabbed for purchase to stop her slide. The vampire leapt for her, mouth open, fangs extended. She scrambled to her hands and knees, searching for her dagger. The body of another vampire slammed into her attacker, sending them both tumbling away. She laid a hand on her pistol.
Greyfriar grabbed one of the last two vampires and threw it to the floor in front of him. His foot jammed onto its stomach, restraining it so he could stab its heart. The thing died clutching his blade.
Adele’s arm extended and she shot the last one as it recovered to fling itself at Greyfriar. It flopped to the floor with a shattered leg. It hissed wildly and tried to crawl away.
Greyfriar went over to it, drawing a short sword, and ran both his blades through its forearms, pinning it to the floor. The male vampire writhed on the ground, unable to free itself. It glared at Greyfriar with blazing blue eyes.
“That was too easy,” Adele said.
“Glad you think so.”
“They aren’t as fast as they should be. They feel pain more than they should.” Adele retrieved her khukri from the corner, where its glow was growing fainter. She returned it to the sheath that would replenish the chemical charge. “Is that all
of them?”
“Yes.”
She rounded on the vampire and snapped, “How can you survive here?”
The creature spat at her, which earned a kick in the face from Greyfriar. “Answer her.”
The vampire cursed at them in a guttural human language.
“You have seconds to live,” Greyfriar replied in the same tongue. “Tell us what we want to know and it may buy you minutes instead.”
“What did it say?” Adele asked in Arabic, which was not a language well-known among vampires, who could readily pick up most human vernaculars if exposed to them. “I don’t recognize its language. German?”
“Flemish,” said Greyfriar, also in Arabic. He leaned over to study the vampire closer.
“Does it speak English?” Adele asked in that language.
The creature cast spiteful glances at both of them.
“He does. He’s just being difficult, but he’ll use it or I’ll kill him.” Greyfriar pointed at Adele. “Do you know who she is?”
The vampire sneered. “My next meal.”
“Hardly.” Greyfriar laughed. “She is Empress Adele of Equatoria.”
The vampire froze with a fearful moan, “The Death Bringer.”
“The Death Bringer?” Adele whispered in shock. She felt a sickening slap from the name. Still, she sneered aggressively to prevent the creature from knowing it. Adele replied in an offhand way she didn’t feel, “That’s catchy in a horrific way.”
Greyfriar turned to her, but his limited expression betrayed no reaction she could discern, because of his garb.
Adele stepped closer to the vampire, lifting a hand that held no power here. But perhaps the vampire didn’t know that. “Your death will be long and agonizing unless you answer our questions. Where are you from?”
It tried to press into the floor, struggling to move away from Adele. It shook more violently, limbs twitching. “From Bruges.”
“Why are you here?”
“I was sent here by my prince.”
Adele’s brow furrowed. “Didn’t you know that was a death sentence? Britain is a burial ground for your kind. How can you even be here?”
“Your power no longer harms us!” the vampire shouted defiantly, even though it was clearly in pain and had been for some time.
Adele noticed a glint of something metallic around its neck. When she reached, the vampire screamed, struggling to get away from her.
“Be still.” Greyfriar stomped on the vampire’s chest. He asked Adele, “What is it?”
“Look at its throat.”
Greyfriar used his rapier to flick open the creature’s shirt revealing a gold chain.
“Are vampires prone to wearing jewelry?” Adele asked, though it was directed at Greyfriar and not the vampire. Greyfriar lifted the gold links up with the point of his sword. Dangling from the end of the chain was a crystal talisman.
The vampire shrieked, “Don’t take it!”
Adele crouched next to the immobilized vampire, peering at the pendant that had a blue crystal at its center.
Greyfriar said quietly in Arabic, “I recognize that. My brother Cesare had one to protect him from your power. A human crafted it for him. He called the man his Witchfinder.”
Adele’s mouth went dry. She knew the story from Gareth. Cesare’s so-called Witchfinder had claimed to know something of geomancy and used those principles to create the talisman. In the early days of the Equatorian forces landing in Britain, they had searched for the Witchfinder, as they had for all of Cesare’s human servants, but with no luck. They assumed these collaborators had died, or been killed in retribution by the British humans. Adele assumed the talisman had been a unique object since no others turned up.
She cursed and turned to the dead vampires around them. She checked them all, and each wore an identical talisman. Adele yanked one free and that vampire’s corpse immediately burst into silver flame. She gave out a strange sigh of relief. “At least we know the geomancy barrier is still active. It isn’t my power breaking down that allowed these vampires to come here. It’s these talismans.”
Adele brought her attention back to the prisoner. Her hand felt the heat that still lingered on the crystal as it rested in her palm. She held out the pendant. “Where did you get this?”
The vampire cringed, terrified to be the center of attention once more. “From my prince.”
“Where did your prince get it?” she demanded. “It couldn’t have made one. Your prince is just a vampire. Your kind doesn’t make anything.”
“I don’t know. We were ordered to wear them and come here to Gareth’s Grave.”
Greyfriar flinched at the name it used for Britain.
“And we survived.” The vampire’s voice rose with newfound boldness. “Your powers will soon mean nothing to—”
“Enough!” Greyfriar stepped on the vampire’s throat, silencing the ranting to a strangled gurgle. “Where did an idiot like the prince of Bruges get amulets such as these?”
“I don’t . . . know!” the vampire choked out as Greyfriar eased off its neck.
Adele remarked once again in Arabic, “I think Cesare’s Witchfinder is on the Continent.”
“I’m dubious. Cesare was unique, even visionary. All vampires use humans to do certain tasks. Bloodmen hold doors for us, dress us, and help manage our herds, even fly airships to carry our wealth. Bloodnurses provide food for our children so they don’t kill their own mothers by overfeeding. But slaves are hardly more than our version of tools. We don’t hold humans in enough esteem to listen to them. No other vampire prince but Cesare would have the genius to use humans for strategic value.”
Adele scoffed. “Even if one of us comes bearing gifts?” She stared deep into the crystal’s facets, fascinated that it somehow worked to reverse her power. A thrill of discovery swelled at the thought of diving into the crystal to see how it functioned, but that would have to wait until they were well out of Britain. “Though not a very good gift. Some of my power must be getting through the talisman’s barrier. From the way these vampires move, you can see they’re in constant pain.”
Greyfriar reached out to touch the talisman, but Adele pulled it away.
“Stop! We don’t know what it will do to you!”
His head tilted with amusement. “Probably no more than it’s doing to you.”
Despite his levity, Adele couldn’t keep anxiety from her face. “When I saved you from the event Mamoru triggered, I changed you in ways even I don’t understand. I have no idea what geomancy does to you now because I’ve hardly practiced since that day.”
Greyfriar’s gloved hand brushed at her cheek. “You worry too much.”
“And you not enough,” she pointed out quickly. “At least let me examine the bloody thing before everyone and their mother touches it.”
Gareth gestured to the prisoner. “What should we do with him?”
“We can’t let him go. I don’t want this prince of his to know the experiment was a success.”
“Assuming, of course, there aren’t other vampires in Britain with other talismans.”
Adele’s stomach bottomed out at the thought of more of these protective amulets flooding out to the vampire clans.
“We won’t kill him.” Greyfriar grunted with disgust as he stared at the vampire lying on the floor clutching the crystal. “You’ll wish you had died with your friends after you’re delivered to Sir Godfrey Randolph in Equatoria for his anatomy lessons.”
Adele felt a twinge of sympathy for the whimpering creature, although she knew it was without pity. She stared into the blue facets of the talisman in her hand. “I can’t believe this Witchfinder is capable of such things in the north, with no schools or teachers or books. How can he do it?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Greyfriar replied. “I’ll go to the Continent and visit Bruges.”
“We’ll visit Bruges.”
“It’s inside enemy territory, Adele.” Greyfriar crossed his arms w
ith a stance of defiance. “General Anhalt won’t like it.”
“No. I suppose he won’t. Fortunately he’s in Alexandria. Would you care to cable him and tell him how you can’t keep me under control?”
Greyfriar paused, staring down into Adele’s expectant face. “No. Let’s not tell him until we’re back.”
“Coward.”
Greyfriar snorted. “I prefer tactician.”
Laughing, she headed toward the door. “Come on, let’s finish searching this place so we can deliver our friend there to the army.”
CHAPTER 5
Adele’s rooms in the old Montagu House overlooked the Thames River. Despite the many coal grates throughout the large mansion, kept glowing hot, the house was damp and cold. After more than a century of misuse and neglect, it was remarkable that it was as livable as it was. Still, it was a suitable abode for the empress-in-residence, close enough to the seat of the government at the old windy parliament building.
London was something of an armed camp, with Equatorian troops patrolling the streets. For nearly a year, Britain had been a de facto province of Equatoria, thanks to two events. General Anhalt and the American senator Miles Clark led the bold attack on London in the great American steamnaught USS Bolivar. The airship had crashed into Buckingham Palace, killing nearly everyone aboard, but wiping out several vampire clan lords who had gathered for Cesare’s coronation. At the same time, Mamoru forced Adele to trigger the event that swept the vampires away. She had since brought several regiments of her soldiers to control an island full of humans who had lived generations under vampire terror and tyranny. Britain would become an important test case to show how the territories ripped from vampire rule would be re-integrated into free human society. At the moment, it was still an open question.
Adele walked the dim corridors, clanking with each step because of her photography equipment and several lanterns she carried. The door to Gareth’s private chamber was open, as always. He sat in a chair near the window staring out into the winter bleakness, his long legs propped against the sill. He shifted enough to let her know he had heard her; there was no way she could take him unaware. She stood watching him. He still wore the accouterments of the Greyfriar, rifleman’s jacket and trousers with high boots, but his scarf was pulled down, lying loose about his shoulders. His dark glasses were set aside.
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