I ignored him and concentrated on keeping my breathing steady. I was still terrified of the man, and there was a new strangeness in his eyes as he grinned at me; something not right, as if he could no longer pretend to be human. A muscle flickered in his jaw, and the veins in his neck bulged as though they could burst open at any moment.
He stepped even closer and looked me up and down. ‘Not bad. Nice arse, shame about the tits. Kinda wish I’d known you were gonna be part of the floorshow. Maybe I’d have saved up my pocket money and given myself a Christmas treat, eh?’ His breath was hot and rank, sour with stale alcohol. He held up the fingers he’d used to assault me and ran them softly down my cheek. ‘I’d split you in two this time, sweetheart,’ he murmured, and kissed me softly on my bare shoulder. Just as I thought I might scream, he stepped away. There was a rattle of keys, then a soft click, and I was now officially Blaine’s possession, kept securely in my place until needed.
That sour reek lingered, even though he’d gone. I rattled at the French doors, but they were locked, too. In desperation, I dragged a chair over and stood on it to open the top window. I stuck my head through the gap and let the freezing air replace the pollution Coyle had brought with him.
That was when I heard the voice coming from the room next to mine. Just a few words, muffled by snow and distance, and snatched away by the wind before I could make sense of them, but enough to knock the breath back out of me. Enough to shatter all our plans into a thousand pieces.
I looked at my watch. Only half an hour to go, and then I’d have no chance of doing anything. ‘Oh, shit fuck and buggery,’ I hissed, and jumped off the chair. I grabbed my discarded tracksuit pants and sweatshirt and pulled them on over my ridiculous excuse for a dress, shoved my bare feet into trainers, then scribbled a few hurried lines on a sheet of watermarked Albermarle notepaper. I folded it and tucked it deep into the sweatshirt pocket, and clambered back onto the chair.
Apparently there was still every chance that Albermarle Hall would kill me, this time from a broken neck. I grabbed the sill of the open window, and hauled myself up and through the tiny gap. The blizzard whirled around me, hiding my movements and silencing the impact as I rolled onto the terrace outside my quarters. I grabbed the ivy that clung to the ancient brickwork, and began to climb.
Twenty vertical feet of scrabbling, hauling and cursing got me to the first floor balcony directly above my quarters. I pulled at the door with numb fingers; as I’d hoped, Blaine didn’t anticipate any burglars making a trip across the lake for the family silver and it swung open onto a dark and empty guestroom, although by that point I was prepared to kick out the glass with my foot and hide any evidence behind the curtain.
I crept along the upper hallway until I reached the minstrel’s gallery where I’d hidden and sketched, all those months ago. A scattering of assorted perverts were already gathered in the hall, mingling and exchanging smalltalk over canapés and champagne. Some I recognised – Maxwell was shoving petits fours into his mouth like this was his last supper, and Laura Fenworth had obviously overcome her initial horror to make a return – and others were new faces to me. I hated them all equally.
I threw a pebble from the patio down onto the piano, where Gabriel was making last-minute adjustments to the stool before beginning his stint as Blaine’s performing monkey. He glanced up in puzzlement, and to my relief he saw me in the shadow of the gallery’s drapes. I put my finger to my lips, and although he clearly didn’t have a clue as to why I had suddenly appeared on the balcony like a slightly manic ghost, he gave a single, subtle nod in reply. I showed him the paper in my hand, and pointed to a spot directly beneath me. Another nod, this time disguised as an examination of his fingernails, and Gabriel moved into position.
Blaine was in her element, surrounded by sycophants and entertaining them with some inutterably hilarious anecdote. As near-hysterical laughter echoed around the room I willed her to keep wittering, and dropped the paper through the railings. Seconds later, Gabriel came back into view. He gave me a surreptitious thumbs-up behind his back as he strolled to his seat, and I could see the crumpled note palmed in his other hand.
There was nothing else for me to do now but get back to my room in one piece. I urged the merrymakers below to keep drinking, and crept back into the shadows.
Finn
‘I’ve just seen to your girlfriend,’ Coyle smirked, taking up all the air in my tiny room. ‘Reckon she’ll fetch a decent price tonight. More than you, anyway.’
He was always insufferable on these occasions, high on the prospect of violence and humiliation, but tonight there was an added extra; I guessed he’d given himself an early Christmas present, because he was absolutely loaded.
‘Right, face the wall, fag. Time to assume the position.’
There was no need for any of this. Blaine only cared that I was presented appropriately to her guests, but Coyle had to have his fun and for Lilith’s sake I had to try and keep myself in one piece for the next ten minutes. I rolled up the sleeves of my dinner jacket, turned my back on the rabid bastard, and put my hands behind my back.
As ever, Coyle ratcheted the handcuffs a few notches further than they were meant to go. I gritted my teeth against the discomfort, trying not to push him any further off his cliff. I even managed to stay silent when he pulled the blindfold tight around my face and the darkness closed in.
We had just made it up the steps from the cellars when it all started to go tits up. ‘Jesus, will you keep up, you stupid fag-bastard?’ My escort’s voice was tight with rage. He grabbed my arm to pull me forward, and blindfolded and disoriented, I stumbled. ‘For fuck’s sake!’ Coyle howled. He released his grip and went in for the kill.
The attack was all the more savage for its spontaneity. Coyle piled his boot into the side of my right knee and I went down like a sack of shit. The pain exploded, white hot, in a leg that already felt fucked beyond repair, and then a hard kick to the side of my head threatened to send me into oblivion.
‘Oh shit, not now...’ I whispered, and tried to curl away from the assault. None of it made sense; Coyle knew he couldn’t mark me on nights like this, and worse, this was in public – we were so close to the Great Hall itself that it sounded like Gabriel was playing in the same room. I could only guess that there were no guests around right now, but I had a feeling that was due to luck rather than judgement.
With immaculate timing, Coyle O’ Halloran had chosen right now to descend into terminal roid rage and I was going to get hoofed to death before a single second of Lilith’s grand plan could be carried out. I only hoped she’d have the good sense to fuck off with Gabriel in his helicopter.
‘You all right there, mate?’
As fireworks started to explode in front of my eyes, the kicking came to a halt. I vaguely recalled the voice as belonging to Noah, Nat, whatever the hell he was meant to be called. I held my breath. If he expressed anything even approaching mild concern right now, we were both done for. He was a guest at Albermarle, so this kind of thing should be properly floating his boat; he needed to let Coyle finish his game, or even better, ask nicely if he could join in.
‘Whassat?’ Coyle slurred.
‘I just wondered if you should be doing that,’ said the boy who came from the place where people didn’t get their heads stoved in for a bit of a laugh.
‘And it’s your fuckin’ business because...?’ Not a hint of Coyle’s usual arse-licking towards guests; he was well and truly off on one.
‘Well, if people are going to be putting in a bid, it’s hardly going to make top-dollar if it’s got no face left, is it?’
I tensed, waiting for the next impact. Instead, there was silence except Coyle’s laboured, grunting breath. Finally, to my amazement, he laughed. ‘’It’. Hear that, fag? He called you ‘It’. Only been here five fuckin’ minutes and he’s got your measure. ‘It’. Fuckin’ love it!’ And with that, the storm passed as quickly as it had begun. ‘Right, let’s get the party starte
d, shall we?’
A hand roughly grabbed my cuffs.
‘Er, before you go, you’ve got a bit of a nosebleed going on there, mate – messed up your shirt a bit,’ Nat said. ‘Might be a good idea to change it before you go in there?’
Coyle let me fall again. ‘Aww, shite. See what you’ve made me do now, fag? Look, could you keep an eye on him for a minute while I go and grab a clean one?’
The mad bastard’s blood pressure must have been through the ceiling if the excitement had brought on a bleed. It was a pity he hadn’t gone the whole hog and given himself a coronary, but the night was still young. His heavy, shuffling footfall receded, and I heard Nat exhale. ‘Je-sus, I’ve never seen anything like that in my life! You all right, man?’ He pushed the blindfold onto my forehead and I winced at the sudden light.
I could see two of everything, including Nat’s concerned face just inches from mine. ‘I’ll live. Just give me a minute, yeah?’ I inhaled tentatively. Nothing broken, just a new set of bruises.
‘God, I’m so sorry. If I could have done something more... but Lilith said, well basically, she told me if I saw anything I had to act cool, but the big man there looked like he was a bit...’
‘Psycho?’
‘Well, yeah.’
‘Roids. He’s goin’ over the top. The next couple of hours, just look after Lilith for me, will you? I’d do it myself, but I’m a bit tied up right now.’ It was hardly going to get me a career in comedy, but Nat managed a weak smile.
‘I’ll do all I can. I promise.’
‘Good man.’ I rolled onto my knees, ready to scramble to my feet with my hands behind my back. My right knee gave way and I fought against puking from the pain as I hit the floor. I managed to limit my reaction to a fairly restrained yelp, but I was going nowhere fast.
‘Oh, that does not look good.’ Nat crouched next to me. ‘Here. Let me give you a hand...’ He reached for my arm and I flinched back. I was trying to figure out how to tell him why I’d reacted like a tosser when he pulled his hand away. ‘Shit. Sorry. Again. Right, let’s give this another go, shall we? If you’ll let me, I’m going to put my hands under your elbows. Then you can use your arms and your good leg to get upright. That okay?’
I wondered just how much Lilith had managed to tell him in their brief phonecall. In truth, I didn’t have much choice if I wanted to hobble, rather than crawl, to Blaine’s birthday party. I nodded, and Nat took my arms in a steady grip.
Considering he was essentially handling a hogtied gimp, he managed the operation with a hell of a lot more dignity than it deserved, but even with Nat’s support it felt as though someone had lit a bonfire behind my kneecap. By the time I was vertical again I was sweating like a nonce in a playpark. I managed a ‘Cheers’ through gritted teeth.
‘No problem, mate. And well done. That must have hurt like hell.’
‘Something like.’
‘The way he went in, he’s probably done a ligament; I’m sure Lilith can tell you which one. Look, try to keep your leg as straight as possible, yeah? After... Well, you know, I can try to strap it up for you if you want. Might make it a bit more comfortable?’
I’d barely had time to give a tentative nod when we heard a distant door slam. ‘Coyle. Time for you to act like a twat again.’
‘Sure.’ Nat glanced down the corridor as though another attack might be imminent. ‘Good luck, yeah?’
‘You too. Just remember, watch out for the mad bastard.’
‘Will do,’ Nat whispered, then added, ‘Shit, nearly forgot. God, I’m sorry about this, mate.’ He pulled the blindfold back in place, just in time.
‘All sorted now. Cheers for that, fella.’ Coyle grabbed me by the wrists and shoved me forward towards the marketplace.
*****
In previous years it had been some anonymous, terrified girl; usually eastern European – Polish, Ukrainian, Latvian – always beautiful and always petrified, and I would have to stand with her, useless in my pity. Tonight was a million times worse because it was Lilith next to me and every sinew ached to reach and hold her, let her know I was next to her and that everything would be fine. Only hours earlier we’d been in each other’s arms, and I’d have given anything to be back there again.
I knew Gabriel was under orders, but it was little comfort. She would still have to stand there whilst the filthy bunch of freaks sat and ogled her and imagined what they might do to her. I prayed that Henry had kept his head for once, and the bastards sitting around the table had got stuck into the wine.
There was the delicate ring of a silver knife against crystal glass and the murmurs and laughter subsided. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome once more to Albermarle Hall,’ Blaine began. ‘It barely seems like weeks since we were last gathered here, let alone a year. And yet here I am, a year older -’
‘You’d never guess it,’ a voice called out, and there was a ripple of polite laughter as Maxwell broke the rule of silence to get his arse-licking in good and early. Probably after a discount.
‘How gracious of you to say,’ Blaine said. ‘Now I’m sure those of you familiar with this evening’s ceremony may have noticed a slight change in the proceedings; at her own request, you have the opportunity to bid for the attentions of my renowned artist-in-residence, Lilith Bresson. In the morning, as you’re aware, she’ll be unveiling her latest masterpiece, but for tonight she can be yours to do with as you wish.’
Just the very thought of that made me want to grab Lilith and drag her from the room, but for good or ill, the evening had begun.
‘So, shall we start with the customary, but frankly insulting, one thousand pounds?’ Blaine asked merrily.
*****
‘…Sold, for fifteen thousand pounds.’
Fifteen grand. The bunch of cheap bastards. Not that the amount itself mattered, just the fact that Lilith was safe with Gabriel, but there was something obscene about Lilith ever coming with a price tag.
‘Thank you very much for your generosity. Mr O’Halloran will take your purchase to your room, and you’ll be able to join her as soon as we’re finished here. Those of you who were disappointed – you now have a second opportunity to bid.’
Now I had to try to keep myself in one piece long enough to be any use. I’d half-expected Blaine to lower my reserve this year, maybe down to a couple of quid, but she optimistically kept it at the thousand. I waited for someone – probably Maxwell, after a bargain – to place the first bid, and then things started to get crazy.
‘Five thousand? Goodness, how generous.’ I could hear the shock in Blaine’s voice.
Over the next few minutes my price rose faster than I had ever known, first by the hundred, and then by the thousand, when it appeared that the auction might go on for the rest of the night. To my amazement I went for thirty grand; more than I’d ever fetched in my time here, and more than it had cost Blaine to buy me in the first place. Something clearly wasn’t right.
*****
I was shoved into my buyer’s room by Coyle, and waited in silence for the great reveal. The cuffs were unlocked first, and my wrists and fingers burned as my circulation returned, then I felt tentative fingers fumbling at the knotted fabric of my blindfold and guessed that I’d got some pissed-up first timer, their courage failing now they were alone.
It could go one of two ways at this point; I was either in for a few hours of being talked at about ‘feelings’, and a lifetime of inadequacy, and how they’d never meant to get to this point, or they’d just throw caution to the wind and go batshit crazy. A sort of hell, whichever they chose.
Gabriel James took away my blindfold and I lurched forward and pinned him against the wall by his throat. ‘You double-crossing little fucker!’ I spat.
‘Splain!’ he gasped, which didn’t make any sense, so I kept on choking him. His fingers clawed at my wrists and his eyes began to bulge. I reckoned that one more squeeze would probably do the job.
‘Finn we can explain,’ said a familiar,
placid voice from behind me. ‘Just put Gabriel down before you kill him.’
I couldn’t understand why Nat suddenly fancied a piece of the action, but the way this night was going, nothing made sense anymore. ‘Where the fuck is Lilith, you bastards?’ Gabriel’s mouth kept moving, but the only sound he made was a frantic squeak.
‘This was Lilith’s idea – a last-minute change of plan,’ Nat said.
‘What d’you mean, ‘change of plan’? Either Plan A works here, or we’re all screwed.’
‘I know, I know, but Lilith – she got a note to Gabriel, last minute. Look, everything else is good so far,’ Nat soothed. ‘Henry reckons he got to everyone’s glass with my magic potion at some point, so these guys should all be crashing to earth any time now...’
They clearly weren’t listening, so I turned up the volume. ‘What fucking change of plan?’
Even Nat took a step away from me, as a precaution. ‘Two new guests. Turned up last minute apparently, and she said Gabriel had to… well, to buy you, no matter what. Two American guys? They seemed pretty determined to get their hands on you.’
‘Oh God.’ I swallowed hard against the memory, and finally released my grip on Gabriel’s windpipe. As much as I hated to admit it, Lilith had been right; there was no way I’d have made it through the night.
‘You utter head case!’ Gabriel gasped. ‘Thirty fucking grand to get strangled by a lunatic!’ There was no sign of the Cockney now, just a highly aggrieved public schoolboy. It appeared that I’d throttled the commoner clean out of him.
I ignored him. There was only one thing that truly mattered now. ‘So who the hell’s got Lilith?’
‘Um, some big fella with red hair. Got the room next to me, I think…’
‘Shit. Shit.’ Alasdair Dalziell had bought Lilith, and the night was truly beginning to unravel.
The Tied Man Page 35