by Helen Harper
I push upwards, hoping it’s not locked. It’s heavy and there is something lying over it, but I create enough of a gap to wedge in my fingers and pull myself up. I use my head to open the trapdoor more fully, push aside the rug that was lying over the trapdoor, drag up the rest of my body and roll onto my back, panting. That was bloody hard work; it had better be worth it.
‘Fort Knox, baby,’ I whisper to myself.
My long shot has paid off. I’ve not had much time to research the Medici headquarters – not that I’d have gleaned much from the internet even if I’d had weeks to spare. I’m aware that for once Lady Luck is on my side. Now I’ll just have to hope that my luck continues.
I scramble to my feet and straighten out the rug. It’s Persian and probably an antique but it’s also very threadbare. I’m definitely not in a main Medici thoroughfare. From what I know of the vampire Lord, he surrounds himself with beautiful things. I bet he spends very little time in this part of his house.
Looking around, I decide I’m in the basement. It reminds me of the room under the kitchen at the Montserrat mansion where the vampire records are kept. Other than the faded rug, however, there’s nothing down here apart from some old boxes. There’s a door at the far end, stripped of its varnish, that adds to my belief that this is nothing more than a spare room that is rarely used.
I crack my neck and perform a few perfunctory stretches. My aim is to catch Lord Medici off guard; it’s the only way he’s likely to be honest with me. That means I need to locate him when he’s alone – and avoid everyone else into the bargain. Piece of cake.
I walk to the door and open it cautiously. When I’m satisfied that the corridor beyond is empty, I venture out. So far I think I’m safe but I keep a close eye out for security cameras. The Montserrat mansion only uses them at the front of the house – and those were only installed recently after the burning cross incident.
Vampires are expected to be completely loyal to their Families so watching them suggests a degree of distrust. In my experience, when people are given high expectations to meet, they rise to them. When they’re treated like cattle, they act as such. It doesn’t always work like that; executions have taken place when bloodguzzlers stepped out of line – and it’s impossible to forget what Nikki did. But when you have a bunch of ex-criminals under your wing and you want to prove you’re serious about wiping their slate clean, you need to put your money where your mouth is. Having said that, if you’re going to break the most sacrosanct Family rule and turn people like Arzo’s ex, Dahlia, who don’t want to be turned, then you have a different set of problems to worry about. That’s why I’m not taking any chances.
I pass a small table with a vase on it. Hanging above it is a pretty seascape in a gilt frame. I’m three steps beyond it when I twist back, remembering what Rogu3 told me about the art thief. I grin and hoist the painting away from the wall. Carrying it awkwardly in front of me so it obscures my face, I continue.
At the far end of the corridor there’s a staircase that I start to climb. It’s not long before I hear voices coming towards me. Trying not to panic, I keep moving.
‘So,’ a female voice says, ‘I told him that if he thought he could take on a vampire, then I was game. I suggested that the best part of his body to sink my fangs into would be where all his blood rushes.’ She pauses. ‘And expands.’
‘No!’ Her friend laughs.
‘He was a bit confused. I undid the zip on his trousers and showed him my fangs.’
‘Then?’
‘Then he ran a mile. I didn’t think humans could move so fast.’
She brushes past me as they continue their descent. Neither of them even looks at me. When they’re out of earshot, I exhale loudly. I didn’t even realise I was holding my breath.
I reach the top of the stairs and peer round the picture frame. I have two choices. I reckon I’m at the north end of the building, probably on the ground floor. Lord Medici no doubt lives in the nicest part of the house, which probably means the south-facing side. I chew my lip. The sun must be coming up by now and, unless the Medici Family uses the same UV-filtering glass panes as the Montserrat Family, I’m in danger of getting fried. I need to avoid any windows just in case.
I turn left, making my way south while shifting the painting slightly. When I hear another set of footsteps coming towards me, I stop. ‘Hey!’ I call out from behind the canvas. ‘I’m taking this over to the Lord’s office but I can’t see a damn thing. Tell me I’m heading in the right direction, will you? If I put it down, I might damage it.’
It’s a flimsy excuse but I’m counting on apathy from whoever I’m speaking to. Sadly, things don’t work out that way. ‘I’ll help you with it.’ The speaker has a deep Welsh burr.
Sodding hell. I’d been hoping all the Medici bloodguzzlers would be as arrogant as their Lord. A polite offer of help is the last thing I need. I can’t expose my face; given that I’m the only vampire to leave a Family in living history, my days of travelling incognito are long over.
‘No, no,’ I say, as cheerily as I can. ‘I have direct orders and it’s probably better if I carry them out on my own.’
‘It’s no trouble.’ He starts to take the picture from me.
My fingers tighten round the edge. ‘Really, I can manage. I just need to know I’m going the right way.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ He continues to pull the frame. Cursing inwardly, I let go. When he catches sight of my face, his eyes widen in recognition. I clench my fists and slam them into his face in quick succession. He staggers back.
‘Sorry,’ I mutter. ‘I guess it’s hard being a gentleman in this day and age.’ I crash both my hands onto the top of his skull. He collapses.
I bend down to check he’s not dead. When I’m satisfied that he’ll suffer from nothing more than a sore head, I grab his feet and drag him into a nearby empty room. I close the door and return to the corridor, picking up the stupid painting again. So much for that idea.
The good Samaritan, with his preternatural vampiric healing abilities, won’t be unconscious for long. I probably have less than ten minutes to find Lord Medici before the alarm is raised. The smart thing to do would have been to kill him outright. Despite O’Connell’s belief in my lust for blood, however, I’m no cold-blooded murderer. Instead I pick up speed, walking briskly in what I hope is the right direction. I wonder briefly if I’ll bang into the unfortunate Dahlia and whether she’ll help me if I do.
I round a corner, catching the deep tang of fresh blood. I must be close to where the Medici vampettes hang out. That won’t help. Lord Medici will have his willing victims delivered to him personally; he won’t demean himself by coming here to drink alongside his minions. Perhaps all is not lost after all.
I follow my nose until I locate a group of humans clustered together. Less concerned about them than I would be about a fellow bloodguzzler, I let the painting fall a few inches.
‘Hey!’ I keep my voice hard, hoping the edge of intimidation will stop them looking at me too closely. ‘Lord Medici wants to see you.’
A willowy blonde extricates herself from the group. I note a few grimaces from the others. She must be one of his favourites. That’s good – it means she’ll know the way.
I raise my eyebrows. ‘Don’t keep him waiting. He’s not in a good mood.’
She lifts an elegant shoulder as if she doesn’t care, but her expression flickers, and she strides off quickly. I frown at the others, baring my teeth, and they all flinch. Then I follow the blonde. Her high heels click on the mahogany floors so it’s easy to keep my distance. When she finally stops and speaks to someone, I know I’ve found my mark.
A business-like woman seated at a desk is peering at the human over half-moon spectacles. Even from this distance I can see that the lenses are only glass; Lord Medici’s secretary wants to look lik
e Miss Moneypenny. Or perhaps he wants her to look like that. I smile at the thought of the portly vampire Lord fancying himself as James Bond before digging in my pocket and taking out the chunk of plaster.
‘What do you want?’
‘I was told Lord Medici wanted me.’
I heft the plaster in my fingers and move back a few steps then I let it fly. It smashes into the light bulb at the opposite end of the corridor. Miss Moneypenny and the blonde fall silent. I count to three as they both move towards the shattered glass, drop the painting as quietly as I can and dart forward, managing to sneak behind the pair of them and into what can only be Medici’s office.
Chapter Fifteen: A Little Snack
The room is smaller and darker than I expected; it’s more like a windowless tomb than the grand space a Family Head would boast about. Medici is bowed over a desk scribbling away at something. I reach behind, sliding shut the old-fashioned lock on the door just as he glances up. His reaction is fast; he’s on his feet and leaping over the desk within a fraction of a second. I’m better prepared than he is, however, and whip my hand forward ready to smash the base of my palm into his face. I stop a whisker’s breadth before I connect and smile broadly.
‘Lord Medici, if I could beg a moment of your time?’
His bottom lip curls. ‘Blackman. What do you want? If you’re here to take me down, know that you’ll fail. You can’t manage it in my club and you can’t manage it here. You’re still nothing more than a fledgling, no matter what you and that Montserrat idiot think.’
I’m reminded how, according to Michael, they used to work together. ‘I’m not here to challenge you, my Lord. I’m working undercover.’
His eyes narrow suspiciously as he tries to decide whether I just made a throwaway comment or I know more than I should. ‘I will rip your throat out for daring to come here,’ he tells me.
I hold my ground. He doesn’t scare me – not much anyway. ‘Before you do, you should hear me out.’ I rock back on my heels, counting on his curiosity to get the better of him. I’m not disappointed.
‘About what?’
‘About whom is what you should be asking.’
He folds his arms and glares at me. ‘Go on.’
‘Terence Miller.’
His nose wrinkles. ‘I have no idea who that is.’
‘He left his old job to be recruited into your Family.’ I lean forward. ‘And he might be a serial killer.’
Medici stares at me. ‘There are no killers in my Family.’
‘Oh, he’s not just a killer. He likes to rape as well. To pin his victims to the ground with stakes. To beat them to a raw bloody pulp. Either that or he’s helping the real killer.’
‘You’re referring to Jubilee Park.’
I nod. ‘I am.’
‘The police cleared the Families of that. Perhaps you missed it. Besides, that woman was nothing more than a whore.’
I grit my teeth. ‘That woman was not the only victim. There have been four vampires as well.’ I meet his eyes. ‘All Medici.’
‘Impossible,’ he says dismissively. I catch the glimmer of doubt, however.
‘Jane. Linda. Bella. Letitia.’ I tick their names off on my fingers. ‘What happened to them?’ He doesn’t answer. He knows exactly who they were. ‘They disappeared, didn’t they? Four powerful vampire women who vanished in broad daylight. Don’t you care what happens to your underlings?’
‘If a Kakos daemon didn’t get them, then it was one of the other Families,’ he snarls. ‘Trying to undermine me.’
I shake my head. ‘Unlike you, the other Families have been cooperating with us. It wasn’t them. We’ve checked the dates and the pattern. The Jubilee Park attacker abducted your vampires. Look into my eyes. Am I lying?’
His face twists. ‘And did this attacker also abduct and rape Andrew?’
My brow furrows. ‘Who?’
Medici’s voice drops. ‘He disappeared in the middle of a street near Covent Garden a month ago. Not too far from where your pitiful office is located, I believe.’
I know who he’s referring to; I knocked Andrew unconscious and Michael disposed of him. It’s been a point of contention between us. I lift up my chin. ‘No.’ I want to add that Michael didn’t abduct Dahlia and turn her into an unwilling bloodguzzler either but that would be giving away too much.
‘I see the look in your eyes,’ he hisses. ‘You despise me. You think I’m weak.’ He shakes his head. ‘You’re the one who’s weak and you’re bringing every other Family down with you. What do you think will happen when you start meeting the humans halfway? When the Families give up the power that they’ve fought for centuries? You’re just a little girl, you have no idea what you’re doing.’ He towers over me. ‘You’ll bring us all down.’
‘You can’t live in the nineteenth century forever. If you don’t compromise, every vampire is doomed.’
‘Compromise? We’re the most powerful beings on this planet. We don’t compromise.’
I think of X. ‘Vampires aren’t the most powerful and you know it. But I’m not here to discuss that. Terence Miller,’ I remind him. ‘Where is he?’
‘I don’t fucking know.’
There’s a muffled crash and a scream outside. The door behind me rattles and I leap out of the way as the lock splinters and it springs open. A thunderous looking Michael glares at us.
‘Hi there!’ I chirp. He’s early. Why couldn’t he have waited another five sodding minutes?
Moneypenny appears behind him. ‘I’m sorry, my Lord. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. He just barged in…’
Medici holds up his hand. ‘It doesn’t matter. Leave us.’
She squeaks out something that might have been ‘as you wish’ and disappears.
‘I might have guessed,’ he sneers. ‘Where the dwarf goes, you won’t be far behind, Montserrat. You should stop hanging onto her apron strings.’
‘Let her go,’ Michael growls.
I roll my eyes heavenward. ‘I’m not his prisoner. We’re having a conversation.’ I look at Michael pointedly. ‘Could you give us a few more minutes?’
‘You asked me to come.’
‘No,’ I snap, ‘I asked you to be around for back up. Not to smash your way in here like a battering ram. I’m not a damsel in distress, I’m trying to do my sodding job.’
‘You should have spoken to me first.’
I sigh, exasperated. ‘How many times do I have to say it? You’re not my boss.’
Medici chuckles. Michael and I turn and stare at him. ‘Look at you two,’ he says. ‘You should get a room, you know.’
‘We’re friends.’
Medici nods. ‘Right. Of course you are.’
‘Where is Terence Miller?’ I ask again. With Michael’s arrival, I feel my control of the situation slipping but I’m not going to leave without the information I came for.
My good Samaritan, now sporting a rather unsightly bruise, appears at the door, gasping for breath. ‘My Lord, the Blackman woman. She’s here. She…’ His eyes fall on me and his voice falters. He also notices that the door is hanging off its hinges.
‘Hey,’ I say. ‘Sorry about earlier. It wasn’t personal.’
His eyes swing to Medici who appears vaguely irritated. ‘Joseph, find out for me if we have a Terence née Miller, will you?’
‘Yes, my Lord.’
I raise an eyebrow. He has them well trained. ‘Thank you,’ I say as poor Joseph departs to do his bidding.
‘Let’s get one thing straight, Blackman,’ Medici says. ‘You have broken into my house. You have defiled my Family name.’ Michael opens his mouth to speak but Medici jabs a thumb in his direction. ‘You are no better.’ His eyes harden. ‘We are not friends. I have no wish to do you any favours. If what y
ou say is true, I shall deal with this Terence myself.’
‘Actually, if you have him, it would be better if you handed him over.’
‘The law hasn’t changed while we’ve been talking, has it? We still maintain Family rights?’
I curse inwardly. Foxworthy will kill me if Miller is the perp and we don’t get to speak to him. ‘Yes,’ I say through gritted teeth, ‘but…’
‘Then there are no buts.’ Medici strokes his chin. ‘How did you get in here with no one noticing?’
I press my lips together. He’ll find the trapdoor and the wall I bulldozed my way through easily enough. It doesn’t mean I need to spell it out for him, though.
‘You’re a very irksome child,’ he tells me.
I shrug. ‘You wouldn’t have talked to me if I’d tried to make an appointment.’
‘You are probably right.’ He looks at Michael. ‘You should keep better control of your people.’
‘She doesn’t belong to me,’ Michael replies. I almost stagger back in exaggerated shock. ‘Anyway, my people don’t go around raping and killing defenceless women.’
‘My vampires are not defenceless,’ Medici spits.
Maybe I should tell them that it might not have been the vampires’ fault if they became victims. If Miller had O’Connell’s special handcuffs, as I suspect, they couldn’t have guarded themselves against him. But at that moment Joseph returns, awkwardly clearing his throat.
‘Well?’ Medici demands. ‘Is he one of ours?’
‘He applied, my Lord. At the last minute the recruiter decided he wasn’t suitable. There was too much,’ Joseph swallows, ‘anger inside him.’
Medici looks at us, satisfied. ‘Our recruitment policy holds true. Better than I can say for yours, Montserrat. That stupid girl you took on caused all these problems between us.’
I’m about to respond that no one could have foreseen Nikki’s actions but Michael jabs me in the ribs. ‘Do you have an address for him? Terence Miller?’ he asks.