by Ilana Waters
How freeing it must be to show your love so easily. Sometimes, I thought being human meant never having to hide anything. Then again, it might also mean not being able to hide things you wanted to. But it was a life I would never have, and so it hardly mattered. I finished my gelato and made my way to the Biblioteca Angelica.
I imagine if heaven had a very serious library, this is what it would look like. I’d glimpsed famous photographs of the main reading room dozens of times, but that hardly matched seeing it in person. After I retrieved Arthur’s book from the front desk, I tucked it under my arm and toured the room. There was row upon row of long, gleaming wood tables. Bookshelves that climbed the walls like stained glass windows, interrupted only by balustrades dividing the floors. Bone-colored, crisscross archways spanning the Gothic-inspired ceiling. It looked like the place one went to find the holy grail of books. And who knows? Perhaps that’s exactly what I did.
Unfortunately, that’s not all I found waiting for me. As I started toward the staircase to walk down from the second level, I came face-to-face with Philip Grant.
You remember Philip, don’t you? He’s the PIA member I mentioned to George earlier, the one who followed me to Italy with Arthur. Only a little shorter than me, he was a heavyset man in his mid-twenties. He wore his typically stodgy three-piece suit, tie, and large round glasses. His blond hair, parted perfectly in the middle, was so shiny one wondered if he’d coated it in olive oil since arriving in Rome.
Philip had been onto me from the beginning of my crystal investigation, back when I was pretending to be a PIA member. It was just my luck that Philip is one of those people who can sense a supernatural in their midst. It was also bad luck he’d chosen me to be the object of his irrational hostility.
It was too late for a don’t-look spell; he’d already spotted me. I fought the impulse to do a deer-in-the-headlights impression, wondering if he was trying to do the same.
“You!” he hissed, pressing his back against one of the stacks when a female patron passed him. He looked this way and that, keeping his voice low. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I said, making way for another patron who glided by. “Don’t I have as much right to be in a library as the next bloke? Did they issue an edict against reading I wasn’t aware of?”
“You know what I mean.” Philip glowered at me. “You joined the PIA under false pretenses. You stole our records—”
“Borrowed,” I said. “And I never took them off the premises.”
“You stole our records, accessed privileged information, and manipulated our members to your own ends!”
“Oh, now Philip, don’t gush. I didn’t do it all in one day.”
Philip’s face grew red as he tried to contain his rage. “And to think I nearly didn’t recognize you without your glasses.”
“I don’t actually wear glasses, Philip. They were part of my brilliant disguise as a mild-mannered PIA member.”
Philip’s nostrils flared. “Typical. And fake, like everything else about you.”
I placed my hand on a bookshelf and let tendrils of a spell drift towards Philip, making sure only he saw it. “I’m fairly certain my ability to magic you into oblivion is real.” Not to mention very tempting.
Philip glanced over at the spell, inching like a vine across the row of books. He took a step back, then stopped and smirked. “You’ll do no such thing in a building full of mortals. You can’t risk exposing your true identity.”
He’s right, damn him.
“How dare you show your face here like a normal person,” he said. “What are you up to, anyway? Looking to take down the PIA, are you? Oh, it was all in Arthur’s report how you tore apart one of our reading rooms.”
Crap. I suppose there was no way Arthur could get around putting that in the chronicles.
“If you’d read the report correctly,” I said, “which I’m sure is how Arthur wrote it, you’d know it wasn’t me who destroyed the room. That was the High Council, trying to dissuade me from continuing my investigation.” Clearly, this had made the PIA even more paranoid that supernaturals were invading their space, not that I could blame them.
“I have no reason to believe a word that comes out of your mouth,” Philip growled. For a moment, his determination reminded me of George. “And if the High Council did try to dissuade you, you should have listened to them.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Was it you who did something to Arthur?”
My heart leapt inside my chest. “Arthur? What do you mean? Did something happen to him?” It couldn’t have—not that fast. I’d just spoken to him on the phone. Surely Ferox and the others wouldn’t try anything. Not in daylight, and not after we’d handed them Merula’s head.
“He’s been distracted lately,” Philip said, “and sometimes hard to get a hold of. You put some kind of mind control on him, didn’t you? Made him your personal mortal slave.”
I was so relieved—and Philip’s idea so ludicrous—that I had to stop myself from laughing.
“Hardly,” I said, stifling a chuckle. “I think the last time we spoke was when he summarily fired me.”
“And for good reason, you lying snake!” Philip practically yelled. He glanced around at the other patrons who were staring at him, then lowered his voice. “Now he’s in and out of the office, working all kinds of ridiculous hours. It’s not healthy for a man of his age.”
Neither is facing five vampires armed with only luck and a crossbow.
“Not that you’d care,” Philip continued. He took a step forward and leaned closer. “What difference does it make to you if he loses his mind? One minute he’s researching a supernatural visiting in Rome, and the next he loses track of him and all related files. How dare you dry up his mental faculties for your own ends!”
Really, the man loves hearing himself talk so much, it’s a wonder I’m part of this conversation at all. I decided to don my best cold-blooded attitude. It was what Philip expected anyway.
“I’m sorry, Grant,” I said with a shrug, “but the goings-on at the PIA are no longer my concern. After all, I got what I came for.”
Philip’s stare was beyond enraged now. “It’s just as I thought. In that case, you should know that I’m in the middle of an investigation of my own. And the subject is you. There’s never been a creature in the world like you before, Alderman—the child of a witch and a vampire. No doubt you’re working on one unholy plot or another.”
Actually, I’m trying to prevent one. But obviously I couldn’t tell Philip that, because the more he knew, the more lives were at risk. And I couldn’t mind-trick him into dropping his investigation on me. By now, every PIA member knew what I was and how I’d managed to fool them. If Philip suddenly ceased his inquiries without explanation, the rest of the PIA might rightly assume something was amiss. They’d conclude I was a threat to them, and then they’d all come after me.
“Tell me, Philip,” I said, rubbing my temples, “do you always go around telling the subject of a top-secret investigation that they are, in fact, the subject of a top-secret investigation?” Too late, I realized Philip had probably trailed me to the library, then acted surprised when our paths crossed. I wondered how many weeks he’d been following me, and why I hadn’t noticed. Either he’d been doing it better up till now, or I was distracted by all this trouble with Ferox. Or both.
“It doesn’t matter if you know now or not,” Philip said. “I will get what I’m after.”
“And what is that, exactly?” I asked. “What are you so desperate to know about me?”
“What’s really going on with this crystal, and why you’re still in Rome.”
Uh-oh. Philip was dedicated to discovering exactly what I was desperate to hide from him. If the PIA found out about this body bag trick and word leaked, they might accidentally blow the cover off the whole operation. Mortals outside the PIA would know vampires existed. Ferox would learn we’d lied to him and wouldn’t hesitate to finish us off. Then
there’d be nothing preventing him from taking over the world, nor reason to delay any longer. Unless he still needed the crystal, that is.
And if the PIA discovered Arthur helped us, they would surely dispose of him, despite his noble reasons for doing so. Granted, Ferox might simply dispatch any troublesome PIA members after word of our sabotage broke, but before completing his own machinations. As much as I detested Philip, I really didn’t want to think of Ferox’s minions tearing him limb from limb. All right, I did a little, but not that much.
“Don’t think you can fool me,” he said. “Not the way you fooled Arthur. After all, he’s just an old man.”
You wouldn’t believe the way that “old man” can handle a crossbow.
“I knew you were up to something before, and I know it again now.” Philip smacked a shelf so hard the books wobbled. “And trust me when I say I’m going to find out if it’s the last thing I do.” His nose was only inches from mine, as if daring me to defy him.
“That may actually be the case if you’re not careful, Philip.”
“Are you threatening me?” he sneered.
No, a two-thousand-year-old bloodsucking lunatic is, but I can’t very well tell you that. It was hard to stomach; saving humanity from Ferox meant saving this little flea bit as well. Fine, then. Let Philip think the worst of me if it would scare him off.
“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to threats, Philip.” I locked eyes with him as I rubbed my hands over one another. I really let the magic swarm around them now, brightly lit and pulsing, the way it looks when one is just about to wield it. I let a spark or two fly off and hit him in the shoe, and he took a step back. Naturally, all this was only visible to Philip and me; to everyone else, we were just two ordinary men conversing on a library balcony.
Philip looked at the spell and swallowed hard. “As I said before, you won’t use magic here. You don’t frighten me.”
I didn’t have to read his thoughts to discern the obvious. “You’re lying; you are frightened.” But not enough to be put off for good. “And you’re right, I won’t use it. Not here, not now. I’ll save it for later, when you’re alone, or sleeping.” I only hoped he didn’t call my bluff; I didn’t really want to have to make good on my threat. And I definitely didn’t want to see Philip’s sleeping arrangements.
Philip squared his shoulders and tightened his already-perfect tie. “I have my doubts about that. And if there’s one thing you should know about me, Alderman, it’s that my patience is infinite. I can wait as long as it takes to get what I need.”
I let the magic fade from my hands. “Grant, what you need is a good therapist and a kick in the—”
“I’ll be seeing you, Alderman,” Philip interrupted, giving me one last glare. “You can count on that.” Despite the fact that he was a “mere mortal,” the firmness in Philip’s voice made my stomach go cold. Then he turned and walked down the balcony steps and out of the Angelica Library.
Chapter 20
“So that’s what Ferox has been on about? I was wondering what you two were whispering behind my back.” George zipped up another body bag and dragged it to the front of the truck bed.
“I’m not doing it on purpose, George, believe me.” I put more batting around my own bag of C4. “It’s not like I want to spend time with him.” Ferox had taken to getting me alone whenever George and I went to make our deliveries. He kept urging me to join his cause, telling me how much better off I’d be.
“And it’s not like I enjoy having to walk back aboveground all alone. Or as alone as one can be with a bunch of peckish-looking vampires.” He whistled a tune as he prepared yet another corpse. He seemed awfully high-spirited for someone performing such a macabre task, but at least he’d stopped naming the body bags. “You’d think he’d have gotten the message when you said no the first time.”
“Apparently not. Though he keeps asking me if we’ve found the bloke who’s making all these,” I gestured to the bags, “and I have to keep stalling. Sometimes I say we’re getting closer, other times that he just slipped from our grasp. We can’t keep this up much longer.”
“Just this and one more trip ought to do it.” George expertly stuffed in the batting and zipped up a bag.
“Thank God for small favors,” I said. “Now, if only I could get rid of that pesky twerp from the PIA who keeps sniffing around.”
“Philip Grant still tracking you?” George asked. I’d told him, my parents, and Arthur about our impromptu meeting in the Angelica library. Since then, I’d seen Philip following me a time or two, taking pictures, making notes. I always managed to lose him, but the little bugger was persistent. I wouldn’t be able to dodge him forever.
“Still hell-bent on investigating me to the utmost,” I said. “Which would be annoying under any circumstances.”
“But under the present circumstances,” said George, nodding, “it could be downright dangerous. He might learn what’s going on with Ferox—”
“—and expose the entire thing,” I finished, rubbing my temples. “I know, I know. And jeopardize Arthur’s safety as well, if Ferox’s plans for world domination don’t get him first.” When I informed Arthur what Philip was up to, I’d told him to be even more careful from now on, especially when investigating the crystal.
“You know what happens to PIA members who are caught fraternizing with supernaturals,” I warned. “Philip already thinks you’re losing your marbles.”
“Maybe I am, helping you as I do,” Arthur said. “No sane person would be a part of this undertaking.”
George and I finished loading up the last of the bags and jumped into the truck. “If this Philip thing really has got you in a bind, maybe I can help,” offered George, fiddling with the ancient radio dial.
“If by ‘help’ you mean detonate him,” I said, “believe me, it’s tempting. But it’s probably best if you don’t get involved.”
“What a shame. I always wanted to be able to blow people up without compunction. Mortals, I mean. Not vampires. If only I could be a sociopath,” George sighed. “They seem so much more interesting than ordinary people.”
I grinned at him. “Sorry, my friend. I’m afraid you have far too much sympathy for the human race. You may be many badass things, but a sociopath isn’t one of them.”
“Mmm. Pity, that,” George murmured, gazing out the window as we drove off.
We’d just finished another exhausting round of unload-the-fake-bodies when Rattler and the rest started heading back up to their living quarters.
“What, no special treatment this time?” I called out after them. “I fully expected to be summoned again by Mr. Ferox for another heart-to-heart.”
Rattler glanced over his shoulder and gave me a withering look. “Master’s got his own plans tonight. He does need to feed occasionally, like the rest of us.” His eyes lit up, and a wicked grin spread over his face. “You can see yourselves out, I’m sure. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ve got dinner to catch.” He and the others sniggered and practically skipped away. George and I looked at one another.
“Follow them?” he asked.
I thought a moment, then sighed. “No. Let them do whatever they’re going to do. Although I hate to stand idly by while they kill mortals for food, trying to stop them might force a confrontation with Ferox. And we’re not prepared for that now. There hasn’t been more than the usual number of homicides or disappearances lately. So, despite all their talk, they’re probably killing petty criminals or others whose presence won’t be missed.”
“Let me guess,” George said. “A directive from Ferox to be discreet, at least until they can take over and let the real feasting begin.”
“Exactly. It’s almost disturbing how well we know him.” I blew a puff of air out of my mouth. “At least this is a pleasant reprieve from having to see him again.”
“I know what you mean.” George made a face. “I haven’t been with Ferox nearly as much as you have, and the man still gives me the shivers.”<
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“Really?” I asked. “You hide it well.”
“It takes a lot to make this witch lose his cool,” George replied. We began making our way back up to the surface with our balls of light when I heard a noise.
I stopped in my tracks. “Did that sound like falling pebbles to you?”
“I don’t know.” He stopped as well and leaned his head in the direction of the noise.
“There it is again!” I said, this time in a whisper.
“So what?” George whispered back. “It’s a cave. It can’t be uncommon for rocks to fall, especially when there are people moving about. Just be grateful it’s not the big ones.”
“No, it sounds lower down. Like something scattering on the ground.” I brought my ball of light closer. George joined me with his light, and we looked down a passageway, waiting again to hear anything.
“Nothing,” I said after a few minutes. “Never mind. Maybe it’s not Arthur that Philip should be worried about; maybe I’m losing my marbles.”
“Steady on.” George peered down the long stone hall. “This looks newer. Like it wasn’t here the last time we came.”
“Were you really paying close attention to every crevice with a hundred pounds of C4 strapped to your back?” I asked.
George got a devilish look in his eye that I knew all too well. “Let’s take a little field trip, shall we?” And before I could do anything, he stole my light and made off with it down the passage.
“George, where are you going? George!” I hissed, but it did no good. Theoretically, I could make another light, but I couldn’t leave George down here alone. Even if he was being completely daft. I heaved a sigh and followed the fading lights.
We walked for a few minutes down the cold, narrow tunnel. I had to admit, this section did seem smoother than the path we’d come from, and there was a fine dust on the floor. It was almost as if it had been burrowed through recently. We sent our lights a little way ahead to where the tunnel seemed to curve, but it only led to more darkness.