by S A Tedman
“Unless the sweeps are not enough.”
The kettle pinged, and he poured the water into her mug. He apologised for the lack of sugar and milk, but she waved it away, reassuring him that she liked it black and bitter.
She sipped her tea whilst looking around the room. Rayneheart had taken a beer out of the fridge and seemed to be looking for something to nibble.
Victoria had been trained to assess a location the second she set foot in it. Actually, she hadn't even entered the apartment before she knew there was an easy balcony access that she could use, and a fire escape system leading to the roof of the building.
Now that she was in the actual flat though, she had determined many things, three of which were to her advantage:
First, she could do whatever she pleased without a witness, as none of the windows were overlooked.
Second, he had a briefcase which she recognised as Black Rose property and had left it lying around on the coffee table in plain sight.
And finally, he was quite obviously an idiot.
Half-way through her mug, she asked if she could use the bathroom to “freshen up” and his eyes twinkled at the words.
Definitely an idiot.
She still had her handbag on her shoulder and checked she had all the essentials as she made her way to the loo.
She just needed one last piece of information.
Shower? Or bath?
Brilliant. Bathtub it was.
The walls were also covered in bright blue retro tiles, which would make clean-up easier.
When she returned to the kitchen, she found Rayneheart sweating, sitting on a chair at the kitchen table with his hands against his forehead, his beer spilled all over the floor.
“What is happening to me?” he groaned.
Victoria approached and put her hand on his face.
“You are burning up. Come, let's get you to the shower.”
She placed her arm around him and helped him to the bathroom. Each step seemed to be more painful for him than the one before, and he finally lost the use of his legs, forcing her to wrestle him into the bathtub herself.
He lay there fully clothed, and she turned him around, so he would be sitting rather than lying. She placed his legs as naturally as she could, slipping some folded towels under the side of his head, so that it could rest instead of lie crooked.
“I'll be back in a second,” she said quietly, and she went into the sitting room, placing her handbag on the sofa and stripping down to nothing but her underwear.
She grabbed a leather pouch from her bag, and walked back into the bathroom, opening it up on the sink and bringing out what looked like a small knitting needle, metallic and shiny.
“I don't suppose you came in your underwear to please me?” he muttered, with a mix of hatred and fear in his eyes.
“’Fraid not,” she said plainly, taking out some towels from the cupboard under the sink.
“When?”
“When what?”
“When did you poison me?”
She checked her watch. It was probably very uncomfortable for him to breath by now.
“In the car, when I squeezed your leg. You had a rush of blood to all the right places as I touched you and I used that rush as a way to distract you from the slight prick.”
“Women,” he snarled.
“Men,” she laughed.
She knelt by the tub and lifted his trousers, sinking her weapon above his heal twice. She then proceeded to do the same with the other foot.
Raynheart’s face lost its colour, but he remained silent.
“What are you doing to me?”
“I've just cut your peroneal tendons, to avoid you walking, although this is merely a precaution as the paralytic agent that runs through your veins should avoid you moving for the next eight hours at least. In my years of work, if I have learnt anything, is that you can never be too safe. Do not worry; it won't hurt,”
When she was done, she tucked his arms inside the bath and turned back to her pouch.
She washed her tool and placed it back carefully before choosing one this time that looked like a pocket knife.
“I'm now going to attend to your wrists. It’s a slow process where I carve into your radial artery. If I were to cut it, you would be dead within a couple of minutes, but this process can take thirty, thirty-five minutes or so and I'll stop the bleeding before it kills you. I don't want you dead, but I need to weaken you enough to make sure you don't try and use your powers.”
“Why?”
“Okay listen, the serum I used is specifically designed to paralyse the body while you keep your head clear so the person who requires information can get you to talk. It also stops you from screaming or yelling or shouting. Nothing more will come of this, and we can both go our separate ways once my mission is over.”
“I am old. I have been tortured before. You don't scare me, and I am not afraid to die.”
“I am not going to torture you, you silly man. I don't need to. My tools are laced with an extraordinary ingredient called dragon's blood. It's mainly used in the Physical world as a drug, but on Psychics? It works like a truth serum, I suppose, and will get you to talk one way or the other. I am sorry for the inconvenience, but your will has nothing to do with the information you are about to give me.”
“I will never talk,” he glared.
She sighed and patted him on the shoulder.
“Of course you won't. So why are you here exactly?”
His eyes went blank for a second, then a spurt of saliva fell from his mouth as his face twisted most unnaturally.
“I am here to hunt a Physical from an extinct race. They were rare even before the Purge, and if I manage to get my hands on her, I will get a promotion. She will have to promote me, and I can write my book about the last century of my life. I have all the details written down in a diary.”
“That might be the stupidest and most convenient thing I have ever heard. What if you get caught?”
“Who would possibly be foolish enough to attack a Sniffer?”
“What if some Physicals want retaliation? You said yourself you could never be too safe.”
“I said that to impress you. I only rent this flat because I don't like the one the Black Rose had originally chosen.”
Victoria tried not to smile at this.
“Tell me about this Physical Immortal.”
“She is going to sing at the summer concert inside the medieval city of Carcassonne tonight.”
“Thank you for the information, Rayneheart.”
He was getting paler by the minute, and the bathtub was filling with blood, staining his clothes. It was not a pretty scene, but Victoria knew it was necessary. She had been extra careful not to spray blood everywhere and looked down at her body to make sure she was clean.
“Why are you doing this? Are you a sympathiser?”
She smiled and left the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
It was time for another cup of tea.
While she waited for the hot water to boil, she sat down in front of the open briefcase. After going through it hastily, she found a black notebook which was indeed his diary. She turned to the last ten pages or so and read through it until she had acquired the information she needed.
It was very convenient indeed, and a little too easy, she thought uncomfortably. She dressed, no longer worried about spoiling her beautiful dress.
It was still light outside by the time she opened the window that gave onto the balcony, though the golden light was starting to turn a darker shade. The concert would only begin at ten, which left her around… three hours.
“Beth, I know you followed me here, and I know you can hear me. You need to get in here, now,” she said calmly.
She sat down on the couch and lit a cigarette.
Elisabeth was by her side in less than a minute.
“Where is he?” she asked, her voice laced with concern
“Bathroom.”
The Headmistress went to check on him immediately. She came back looking a little put out.
“What have you done to him?”
“Tired him out, so he can't use his powers.”
“Did you have to slit his wrists?”
“Yes, I emptied most of his blood, weakening him.”
Victoria checked her watch. She still had at least ten minutes before she would need to stitch him up.
“I'm not criticising your methods, you know,” Elisabeth said, pouting.
It was sweet to see her like this. She was always the strong one, but Victoria knew that blood had a specific scent for people like Beth.
“Didn't think you were,” Victoria laughed warmly as she stood up to go and make herself another cup of tea. “Want one?” she said, shaking a teabag in the air.
“No, thank you,” her friend answered, scrunching her face. “Good lord, his blood smells disgusting!”
“I imagine. He's a Fire Immortal and I found his diary,” she said gesturing towards the desk, “you don't have much time, there is a concert tonight. Inside the medieval city.”
“Who is the target?”
“A woman, but he doesn't have her name; he thinks she has the power of the Voice.”
Elisabeth didn't answer and stood there frozen until Victoria turned to check on her.
“Beth, do you know what this means?” Victoria said lowering her voice to almost a whisper.
“He's found a Nightingale.”
“Yes. I thought they were extinct.”
“They are. I mean, I thought so too. A Nightingale? Oh, if she agrees to work for us, do you know what she could do?”
“No. I have only heard rumours, and that was a long time ago.”
Victoria was always curious and loved how her friend lit up every time she discussed the past.
“If a King brought a Nightingale to the battlefield, he would most likely win the war. These Physicals had the power to stop the fighting, just by singing, or they could start it if that was their desire. When they sing, they strip your soul bare, and no matter how lost you are, their songs will show you the way. A long time ago, there used to be Nightingale concerts… Oh Vic, if only you could see what I have seen. Their voice would bring out the power of the Physicals; it was something unique and special. I remember the Black Beast clans would sit and cry, as their darkness danced in a whirlwind of bliss by their side. It is the only sound in the world that can release the power within us so that it takes on its full celestial form, exiting our mind and body so we can see what we truly look like. It was always so beautiful. And that’s just the beginning; they can do so much more. I can’t even begin to express the importance of her survival if the Sniffer has indeed found a Nightingale.”
“What does their voice sound like?”
“I don’t have the required arrogance to describe their voices with common words.”
“What are Black Beasts? I have never heard of them.”
“You wouldn’t have. The last one was killed long before your time. For sport.”
“What do you want to do?”
Elisabeth sat down to think. She nodded to herself after a couple of minutes and turned to Victoria.
“You have your mission; I'll take care of this one.”
“Your mission is more important if she is the last one left,” Victoria insisted.
“No it isn't, trust me. You have to get back to the hospital.”
“What about…?” she said, nodding towards the bathroom.
“I can take care of him.”
“I know you can Beth, but I was thinking, could you get Antoine for me? He’s still at the safe house isn't he?”
“Yes, he is. Why?” Elisabeth asked, suspiciously.
“The man in the bathroom, that particular Sniffer? His name is Rayneheart, and he's one of the three responsible for the Polar massacre in Egypt.”
The Headmistress smiled, and her eyes gleamed golden. She licked her lips as if she were about to devour her prey.
Victoria could have sworn she heard her growl, too.
“Yes. I'll send for Antoine at once. He lost his twin that day.”
Elisabeth promised her it wouldn't take long.
Victoria didn't mind. She didn't want to go near the hospital with a Sniffer around, so she patiently waited with Raynheart. When it was time, she stitched him up and was even kind enough to put a pillow under his head so he could rest, replacing the sweat flooded towels that had fallen off his shoulder. He asked her more questions, but she didn’t answer. It was pointless talking to a dead man, she thought, matter-of-factly. Elisabeth had taught the remaining Polars how to build up a resistance to heat and Antoine was one of the very few who was able to withstand Mediterranean temperatures. He had watched his friends and family die, and she knew Rayneheart wouldn’t survive long. He deserved what was coming to him, in a way. Victoria would not interfere.
She went through his briefcase and asked him a few more questions, who had sent him here, how he had found the Nightingale and when he was expected to report back. The more she knew about his mission, the more she could protect herself.
Something was bothering her though; she knew she was missing something, but couldn't put her finger on it. She kept going through his belongings again and again and only relaxed when she heard Elisabeth's heels in the corridor.
“So, no balcony this time?” she smiled, turning to her friend.
“No. It's done. Antoine is on his way,” Elisabeth smiled back, closing the front door.
Victoria nodded, frowning, a little put out by something.
Elisabeth noticed her friend’s discomfort and a shadow passed over her face.
“Victoria,” she said calmly. “What’s wrong?”
The nagging feeling suddenly turned into an unpleasant taste in her mouth as she realised what she’d missed.
“Oh God,” Victoria managed to say, her mouth going dry, “I forgot to ask him what he was doing at the hospital.”
Elisabeth's canines extended and her jawline elongated, her features turning her into what looked more like a feline than a human. Victoria realised in growing horror that they were no longer alone and what’s more, she could hear Raynheart laughing from the bathroom. The all too familiar “woosh” of the Black Rose teleportation system filled the room with electricity, and she heard her friend mutter something about a third sign. Victoria didn't understand what she meant and didn’t have time to ask or even reach for her weapons before she felt a strong arm grab her by the shoulder, enveloping her in a cold whirlwind. It took a few moments for her to be able to focus on her new environment.
She had just been teleported into a hotel room.
“Tched?” she said weakly, steadying herself against a table.
“Yup. Don't worry babes; I got ya!”
“Dammit, I'm about to pass out,” she wheezed, little white dots appearing in front of her eyes.
Tched helped her to sit down and got her a glass of water.
She closed her eyes for a second, to steady the world around her - or so she thought. When she opened them again, he was sitting down in front of her, reading a trashy magazine and sucking on a lollipop.
“Shit, how long have I been out for?” she asked him desperately, looking outside. She realised the sun had set and her mouth went dry.
“It's okay babes, just under an hour.”
“An hour?!' she shrieked, standing up immediately. “Honey, you have to take me back!”
“I can't can I? There was a bloody Physical in the room with ya! Looked as if she was about to eat your lovely noggin!”
“You don't understand. Elisabeth isn't… oh forget it, it doesn't matter. I order you to take me back!”
Tched, who was wearing a bright orange extra tight jumpsuit opened up his eyes wide.
“Darlin, you know I luv ya. Are you sure? The Black Rose joost sent two more Sniffers to the flat, they’re gonna take care of the luvely Physical and it's gonna be a blood
bath.”
“Two more Sniffers?”
Victoria felt weak and the little amount of blood she had left in her cheeks drained.
“Get me back there now,” she continued calmly, “and I want you gone before I even blink, you got that? Get to a sanctuary the second you drop me off and stay safe.”
The man in front of her nodded and gave her a little hug before placing his hand back on her shoulder.
In a matter of seconds, she was back in Rayneheart’s sitting room, and she looked around frantically, fearing the worst.
Elisabeth was sitting on the sofa calmly, drinking a cup of tea, her features back to normal.
Her suit, however, was splashed with blood.
“Are - are you alright?” Victoria asked, inspecting her friend quickly. “What happened? Tched said two more Sniffers were coming.”
“They did. They’re still here actually, in the bathtub with your friend. They can hardly move in there it's so small, not that I want them to.”
She seemed okay, but her voice was strange, soft, sweet and sticky as if she were high on something. Definitely strange.
“Yes,” she continued, “I'm quite pleased. Three Sniffers for the price of one, it's the win Charles was so desperately waiting for.”
She smiled ferociously.
“I was a bit worried about you though. Was about to go on a murder spree in the closest Psychic sanctuary I found. What happened?”
“I passed out… Tched’s teleportation was vicious. And I am a Mortal. It’s like going from nothing to full roller coaster speed in a nanosecond. He usually only teleports Immortals anyway, and I can deal with it better if I actually know I’m about to be teleported. I also haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“I’m sorry about that. I should have taken you out to lunch somewhere nice.”
“Really? You are apologising? You idiot!”
Victoria couldn’t help herself and collapsed onto her friends lap, hugging and kissing her profusely.
“It's okay, Vic. I'm fine.”
“They were two highly trained Sniffers!”
“Yes, and if you go to the bathroom, you will see two knocked-out lumps, missing a few limbs, waiting for Antoine.”