The Last Rite (Danilov Quintet 5)

by Jasper Kent

  The padlock was open. It still hung from the hasp, but would require no key to remove it. I looked close and saw the twisted metal of the mechanism that had once held the shackle in place. It would have taken some sort of jemmy to break it, and even then an enormous amount of strength – inhuman strength.

  I considered what to do. Almost every weapon I had to deal with a vampire was in that room. If Anastasia – I had no doubt it was she who had broken in – was still in there then I was lost. I had only my cane, with the cap that covered its wooden tip, but I’d left that downstairs by the door. But then I realized my immediate fears were groundless. The broken lock had been put back in place. That could only have been done from the outside.

  I walked forward and plucked the lock from the hasp, then opened the door. As I’d concluded, the room was empty. I flicked on the light and looked around, trying to deduce what she had been doing here – what might be missing. To my relief the items I was after were still there, in a box in the corner: my Yablochkov Candles. They were what I’d been thinking of when I’d told Nadya I had a way both to test Anastasia and to destroy her if she proved guilty. The light from these lamps would do nothing more than dazzle a mortal human, but they would reduce a vampire to dust in minutes – seconds if I used enough of them, and I had over a dozen.

  I looked around the room in more detail, trying to remember what had been where. There was no reason to suppose she had taken anything. Perhaps she had just been exploring. Even to a vampire a casual look at this place would not scream out that everything here was dedicated to its destruction. A crossbow could be used to kill many creatures. The wooden sword might be just a toy. And why should any vampire realize the danger of arc lights such as the Yablochkov Candles; to my knowledge they had only been used twice, and neither victim had survived to warn his brethren.

  Then I saw what was missing: on the bookshelf – all of Iuda’s notebooks. I’d stolen them from his rooms at the Hôtel d’Europe, decades before, and had learned from them everything that he had discovered through his experiments on vampires. As soon as Anastasia read them, she would understand that I knew far more about her kind than she might have guessed. But there was still some hope; the books were written in English. It seemed unlikely that a girl of her age and background would be able to read the language. I stopped myself, shaking my head at my own ridiculous logic. She was a voordalak. However old she might appear, what did I know of her age and background? The very fact that she’d taken the books indicated she had some interest in them.

  I picked up the box of Yablochkov Candles and went back down to Anastasia’s room on the first floor. When I was very young, Mama and I had proved their effectiveness on a voordalak we’d captured. Back then we’d got our power from a Gramme generator which Mama had to crank by hand. With Iuda I’d used a bank of Leclanché cells. Times had moved on. Petrograd now had its own electricity supply. It would make my life easier.

  It didn’t take me long to rewire the lighting of Anastasia’s room – my changes didn’t need to be well hidden. One switch would, as ever, turn on the single incandescent bulb above the bed. It would do her no harm; the light it emitted was of the wrong wavelength. I hid a second switch behind the chest of drawers near the door. It was just a small knife switch in the electrical cable, not fixed to the wall. It would do the job, but I’d need to be careful – the exposed metal meant I risked an electric shock. I tested one of the Yablochkov Candles and it worked fine. Ideally I should have checked them all – they were decades old – but such was their design that they could only be lit once, after which it took a lot of effort to re-prime them. I inspected them all visually and they seemed in order. I wired them in parallel so that even if one failed, the others would still function.

  It took me less than an hour. I have to admit I enjoyed the work. Spending an afternoon designing circuits, stripping wires and connecting components reminded me of my days in the army as a sapper. Whenever we had a problem with the wiring in the house (which was often) I always made sure to fix it myself rather than hire someone. I probably understood electricity better than most of the tradesmen in Petrograd who claimed it was their profession. When I’d finished I looked at my work. There were eight of the candles around the room. If any one of them worked it would be enough to kill Anastasia – presuming she was a vampire. If not then I could simply ask her if she liked the new lights I’d put up for her. I also searched the room top to bottom, and anywhere else I could think of in the house, but there was no sign of Iuda’s journals – nor of any other victims. I made sure to remove the key from the door. The entire plan would be foiled if Anastasia were able to lock me out.

  Nadya returned before I’d finished. She looked in briefly at what I was up to. When everything was ready I called her down and explained to her what I’d done and what the effect would be – both if Anastasia were a vampire and if not. I showed her the switch and told her to be careful not to touch the bare metal.

  ‘You expect me to do it?’ she said.

  ‘Only if I’m not here when she comes back.’

  ‘You only have to go to the Duma during the day. She won’t come then.’

  ‘I have to go out this evening.’ I spoke softly, as if it would change the meaning of the words.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I have to speak to Dmitry.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘To find out what he knows about Anastasia.’ I knew I sounded irritated, and that wasn’t fair. I certainly had to see Dmitry, but it was me, not Nadya, who had brought the situation about.

  ‘When?’

  ‘Around half past nine. I’ll make sure it doesn’t take long. Did you arrange the funeral?’

  She nodded. ‘Friday – first thing. That won’t take long either.’

  As darkness drew in we went upstairs. We looked out over the banister for Anastasia’s arrival, though we’d have heard her anyway. I realized I should have wired it so the switch was up in our room, and so the whole thing could be done remotely. But I knew that in my heart I wanted to see the voordalak die. It had been too long since the last time.

  When I left for my appointment with Dmitry she still had not come. I tried to go over the details again with Nadia of what to do, but she told me she understood.

  It didn’t take me long to get to Senate Square. The city was much as it had been the previous night: busy, but quiet. A mood of anticipation hung in the air. Dmitry’s tall figure was already waiting when I arrived.

  ‘How did it go at the Astoria?’ I asked.

  ‘We went there, but it hardly seems worth it. There’s a handful holding out who are loyal to the tsar, but nobody’s trying to deal with them. It’s all but over.’

  ‘So you’ll leave?’

  ‘When Nikolai’s gone. Even then it will be more of a withdrawal than a departure.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Every revolution will need protecting after the event. There’ll be those who want to return things to the way they were. If they try too hard, we’ll stop them.’

  ‘And in the meantime?’

  ‘We’ll leave the city, as I said.’

  I paused. I didn’t want to ask about Anastasia too directly. ‘How many of you are there?’ I asked.

  ‘A dozen, plus myself. I told you.’

  ‘All male?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Are there any other vampires in the city?’

  He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment, then smiled. ‘Apparently. A woman.’

  ‘You know then?’

  ‘I only know what you’ve just told me.’

  I emitted the briefest of laughs, mostly at my own stupidity. ‘She’s called Anastasia Eduardovna Agapova.’ Nadya had told me her full name – the name that Anastasia had given her. None of it could be trusted. Dmitry shook his head. ‘She’s young, or looks it – fifteen at most. Blonde.’

  ‘If she’s in the city, I’ve not seen her. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever met a vampire
that young.’

  I decided to play my trump card. It was the only one I had left. ‘One of you knows her – Ilya. I saw them together.’

  Dmitry’s nostrils flared. ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘That’s why I followed him – and found you. Seems they’re not quite the loyal band you thought they were.’

  ‘I’ll talk to him.’

  ‘I’d rather you didn’t – not for a little while.’

  He looked at me quizzically, then seemed to understand.

  ‘There was one other thing about her,’ I said. ‘She looks as though she’s pregnant. Is that possible?’

  ‘Don’t Iuda’s books have anything on that?’

  I wasn’t going to tell Dmitry they’d been stolen, but in truth, and perhaps surprisingly, there was nothing on the subject in them. ‘Not the ones I have,’ I replied.

  ‘As far as I know, she couldn’t have conceived as a vampire.’ He spoke carefully, choosing his words. ‘That really is an impossibility.’

  ‘So she got pregnant as a human? But she’s only a few months gone.’ Absurdly I felt more pity for her to know she had so recently been one of us.

  ‘I don’t think it works like that,’ said Dmitry. His caution was becoming palpable, but then his mood lightened. ‘But as I say, I’m no expert.’

  ‘I don’t suppose it makes much odds.’

  ‘To what you have planned for her?’

  ‘Exactly. So you don’t have any objections?’ It hadn’t been my intention, but suddenly it seemed as though I was asking Dmitry’s permission.

  ‘At your killing one of my kind? I can hardly complain, can I?’ He gave a smile that reminded me – however friendly the manner in which we communicated might be – what a monster he truly was. ‘You’ve not raised a finger to stop me killing dozens of yours.’

  He walked across the square in the direction of Saint Isaac’s. I fingered the cane in my hand. I could easily have chased after him and plunged its sharp point into his back. If I’d been lucky I might even have taken him by surprise. But, despite what he was, it would still have made me a murderer – and it wouldn’t have made his words any less true. I would kill a vampire tonight, but it wouldn’t be an act of petty malice. It would be an act of justice – an execution. It would be just as it had been with Iuda.

  I hurried back across the city. I was glad to have spent so little time talking with Dmitry. It was a terrible thing for me to have left Nadya to perform what should have been my onerous duty, but I had been away less than an hour, so the likelihood was that Anastasia had not returned. And even if she had, Nadya was as capable as I of operating that switch and reducing the creature to ashes. Perhaps that was my real concern – that I wouldn’t be there to see it.

  I walked along the Neva and then headed inland to follow the Moika, taking me through the Field of Mars. There were bonfires dotted about and I could see the shadows of men and women around them, keeping warm. Still the city waited – waited for Nikolai to act, one way or the other – to give up power or to send in troops that would enforce it, if he could find any who would obey him. As I walked I couldn’t help but notice what a playground the place would be for any voordalak who chose to come here. How easy would it be for him or her to wander amongst those sparse crowds, passing themselves off as a likeminded citizen and then finding some dark shadowy corner in which to pounce? Dmitry might have had nobler intentions in coming here, but it couldn’t have been difficult for him to raise recruits. It had been the same in 1812. They waited until mankind was weak – weakened on its own stupidity – and then came to pick off whatever easy victims they could find. They were vultures, not hawks. Scavengers. Maggots feeding on the flesh of Petrograd’s corpse.

  It was as I crossed the foot of the Lebyazhya Canal, separating the Field of Mars from the Summer Garden, that I noticed something was wrong. Here the path turned a little and I could see all the way to the corner of our building, overlooking the Fontanka. Or I should have been able to see it. On this side of the river the electric streetlamps were shining. They were perhaps a little dimmer than usual, but still cast plenty of light to see by. But at the line of the Fontanka that light came to a sudden halt. I didn’t know precisely how electricity was routed around the city, but it was divided into sectors. With the strikes and the lack of fuel, sometimes sufficient power could not be produced. That could have various possible effects. One was that the whole city would dim; bulbs still glowing but less intense – the light they cast almost brown. Alternatively an entire sector might lose its supply completely. That was what had happened tonight.

  Our house, our street, and the whole area around were without electricity. And electricity was the only weapon I had given Nadya to protect her.

  CHAPTER VIII

  I COVERED THE distance home in less than a minute. There were still troops supposedly on guard on the bridge as I crossed the Fontanka, but they had long since stopped trying to prevent people crossing in either direction. The difference in atmosphere on the other side was instantly noticeable. The darkness was like a curtain. The moon would not rise for another few hours. I could see the flickering lights of candles behind some windows, but they cast no useful light on to the street. It was only a little way from the embankment to my front door, but already any benefit I had of light from across the river had gone. I ran my fingers over the painted woodwork, feeling for the keyhole. Soon I was inside.

  I could hear my own breath rasping in the darkness of the hallway. I held it, and then heard the pulsing beat of my heart. The short run had exhausted me. Even if it hadn’t there was no possibility of my being able to run up the stairs. Inside it was totally dark. I would have to feel my way. I removed the protective cap from my cane, ready for what I might encounter, but then I used it for a quite different purpose. I held it out in front of me, sweeping it slowly from side to side as if I were a blind man, which for the time being I was. Soon I felt it tap against the wooden pillar at the foot of the banister and moments later I had my hand on the rail.

  Now my progress was faster. The banister rail continued unbroken all the way up the building. I had merely to keep in contact with it to find my way to the top floor. I glanced in the direction of Anastasia’s door as I passed, but could see no light. Even a candle would have shown up in the utter blackness that enveloped the house, as was demonstrated when I reached the upper landing. A dim glow seeped out from under the living-room door. I silently opened it, and went inside.

  The scene beyond would have appeared, to most observers, quite natural – a perfect representation of domestic tranquillity. There was a candle on the table and two more on the mantelpiece. A single log glowed in the grate. I walked in a little further. Polkan was asleep on the hearth rug. Nadya was in her usual chair with her back to me. In her hands she held a book, but as I moved further into the room I could see her eyes were not on it. They looked across the room to the other chair, where Anastasia was sitting. She was sketching. I couldn’t see what was on the paper. The only hint that something was amiss was the whiteness of the tips of Nadya’s thumbs as she gripped the book so tightly that it seemed she might be about to rip it apart.

  ‘Good evening,’ I said.

  They both looked up at me. Anastasia seemed a little startled, but Nadya appeared calmer. I doubted it was anything other than a façade.

  ‘Good evening, colonel,’ said Anastasia. She looked me up and down. I realized I was still carrying the cane, its sharpened tip exposed. Luckily I held it as one genuinely would a cane, and so the point was close to the ground, lost in the shadows with any luck. She certainly didn’t react to it. I leaned over and kissed Nadya on the cheek, though my eyes never left Anastasia. Neither did Nadya’s.

  ‘We were just keeping each other company until you got home,’ Anastasia continued. She stood up and showed the drawing to me. ‘Do you like it?’

  I took it from her and glanced down at it. It was Polkan, sleeping in just the pose that he currently occupied. It was v
ery good – as good as the sketch she had done of Nadya – but I didn’t allow my eyes to linger over it for long. I offered the paper back to Anastasia, attempting a smile of approval.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘Keep it.’

  She gathered up her pencils and her pad and made for the door. She turned before opening it. ‘Goodnight, both of you.’

  I stood, frozen, and listened to her feet on the stairs, then the faint opening and closing of her bedroom door. I turned to Nadya, ready to cling to her as she threw herself into my arms and sobbed in relief that the terror had passed, if only for the moment. But no such embrace came; neither did tears.

  ‘Why the hell didn’t you kill her?’ she hissed.

  ‘What?’

  ‘That’s what it’s for, isn’t it?’ She batted the cane with her hand, knocking it from my grasp. The sound of it clattering on the floor woke Polkan, who looked up at us, but didn’t move. Clearly Nadya’s terror had banished any pretence she’d made of giving Anastasia the benefit of the doubt. I was less certain, but then I hadn’t been sitting there with her all evening.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, keeping my voice low. ‘That’s what it’s for. But it’s as effective on a human as on a voordalak. It was only this morning you wanted me to make sure – one way or the other. We’d be sure enough if she was sitting there now in that chair, with a stake through her heart and her body still intact like any normal person. That’s why I was going to use the lights.’

  ‘You didn’t think about the power cut, though, did you?’

  ‘No. No I didn’t.’ I silently cursed my stupidity. ‘Did she say anything?’ I asked.

  Nadya shook her head. ‘Nothing important. She asked after Syeva.’

  ‘Did you tell her?’

  ‘Of course not! We don’t have a chance if she knows we suspect her.’

  ‘You don’t think she does?’