Страница 34 из 84
Not for the first time, I had a fleeting wish for some sort of spellcasting ability, or at least a handy Stun spell. ‘What do you want?’ I asked, keeping my voice level.
‘As I told our esteemed Oligarch, I’ve got a little proposition for you.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘But the Turk’s being his usual dog-in-the-manger self.’
‘Let me guess,’ I said drily. ‘You won’t kidnap any more of my friends if I go back to the Autarch quietly, so you can get a nice pat on the head?’
‘Good God, no!’ He gave a theatrical shudder. ‘We don’t want Him involved, do we? If He knew we were all pally, he’d just demand I hand you over, and I’d have to say Yes, Sire!and probably end up as part of the entertainment.’ He finger-shot himself in the head. ‘Duh! His Brattiness might be a total nutter, but I’m not. Why do you think I put up with Dear Old Dad all the time? It’s certainly not for the old man’s scintillating company. Malik, on the other hand, will agree to anything to keep you out of the Autarch’s clutches.’ He beamed, his face lighting up with manic glee, and spread his arms wide, flashing me with more than his fangs. ‘Oh, don’t you just love it when a plan comes together?’
‘It’s not my plan,’ I said, narrowing my eyes at him, not sure whether his ‘happy as Larry’ act was for real, ‘and I don’t appreciate being held hostage for ransom. So no, not loving it so far.’
‘Oh, you’re not a hostage, Cousin.’ He held his hands up in mock surrender. ‘Far from it! No, all I want is a quick family snap of us together, then you’re free to leave whenever you want.’
I raised my brows. ‘Okay, now I’m confused. Letting the hostage go before you get the ransom—not that I’m complaining—is one of those cart-before-the-horse things. So: what’s the catch?’
‘Catch? There’s no catch, little cousin. All I want is the photo and that’s it. Good God, I’m not stupid, you know. The Autarch might have a few screws loose, but he’s easily distracted; it’s out of sight, out of mind with him. Malik, on the other hand, is like a bleeding elephant. He never forgets if you cross him, and he keeps coming after you until he’s managed to stamp you out completely. Look what he did to Elizabetta!’ He grabbed his head in both hands with a mock scream of horror. ‘Me, I’d prefer to keep my bonce on my shoulders where it belongs.’
I blinked. Personally I’d take Malik over the Autarch any day, but hey, he had a point with the head thing … and if all Mad Max truly wanted was a picture—
‘Fine, where’s the camera then?’
‘I bet you’ve got one on your phone, haven’t you?’ He smiled wi
Still suspicious about what he was up to, I pulled out my phone from my jacket pocket and warily held it out.
He took it and examined it as if it were diamond-studded. ‘Nice bit of kit! I didn’t think this model was out yet.’ His thumb moved over the small keyboard, almost faster than I could see. ‘I’ve been waiting to get a shot at one of these from a reviewer I know; she says it doesn’t live up to the hype.’ His brows lowered in concentration at the phone. ‘What do you think?’
‘It’s a phone. It does what phones do,’ I said, trying to calculate if I could make it past the dogs, most of whom were stretched out sleeping now, and out the door before—
‘Mind if I take a test pic of Dear Old Dad first?’ He looked up enquiringly.
‘Knock yourself out.’
He resumed fiddling with the phone, and I started slowly edging away from him and the staked vamp at my feet.
His hand shot out and clamped round my wrist. ‘Picture first, Cousin.’ He smiled; this time there was nothing wi
‘Hurry up and take it then.’ I jerked my arm away, surprised when he let me go.
‘Come and cuddle up here.’ He patted his side, his bonhomie back, and indicated I should pose next to him, then held up the phone, camera lens pointed back at himself.
Feeling a bit like I had fallen down the rabbit hole, or was maybe climbing onto the hangman’s scaffold, I stepped over the body and angled in next to him.
He clapped his arm round my shoulders with a cheery laugh. I gritted my teeth.
‘Okay, now hold your hand up next to your face, the one with the member’s diamond on it.’ He looked up at the lights and moved us back fractionally. ‘Now look at the camera, and— One, two, big cheesy grin, smile!’ The phone clicked, and the flash blinded me.
I squeezed my eyes tight shut …
And when I opened them, the scene in the club’s foyer had changed.
Chapter Twenty-One
Mad Max, his dear-old-and-bloodily-staked Dad, and even the dogs were gone. The Coffin Club’s foyer was empty except for the sleeping goblin in the ticket booth. For a moment I wondered if I’d imagined it all, but my T-shirt was still damp with Fyodor’s blood, although someone had creepily cleaned my face and hands. Damn vamp tricks. Looked like the bastard had mind-locked me, something he shouldn’t have been able to do. And what the hell game was the mad vamp playing?
Not that I couldn’t hazard a guess: he wanted something from me, and while he was leery enough of Malik’s retribution not to want to hold mehostage, he wasn’t above using my possessions as a negotiating tool, since my backpack with its cargo of blood and my phone were also gone. Not to mention there was Darius, my pet-vamp himself, to worry about.
But before I could flush the mad-dog vamp out of wherever he’d disappeared to, a loud Big Ben-type chime rang, the club’s front doors swung open, and a crowd of people— humans—were laughing, whooping and racing through them.
Suddenly three of them split off and headed for me, their pale grey costumes streaking behind them like delicate wings blown by the wind. I recognised their black-and-white Pierrot faces: they were some of the Moth-girls from the blood-house where Darius used to live. I had a moment to brace myself before all three threw themselves at me, flattening me against the wall, thin arms wrapping around my neck and waist, hands clutching mine, and I was enveloped in a soft mass of rustling silk, satin and lace.
I breathed in the smell of rice-powder mixed with greasepaint as Viola smeared a waxy kiss on my cheek, caught the faint scent of liquorice-scented blood as Rissa’s long white hair trailed across my face, and felt the heat of the 3V infection pouring off Lucy’s arms around my neck. I laughed, squeezing hands and hugging them all, joining in their enthusiastic greeting—
The present disappeared as a memory speared into my heart.
She looked numbly down at her son where he lay cradled in her arms. The midwife had wrapped him in the blue blanket appliquéd with the red and white train. She’d bought it only two days ago, sure then that her superstitions were unfounded and nothing would go wrong. She touched his tiny, perfect hand … but unlike all those excited day-dreams she’d had, his little fingers didn’t curl round her own, but stayed limp and lifeless. That’s when she knew he wasn’t there, that he was gone.
I clutched Grace’s gold pentacle, and looked at the three Moth-girls. They were fa
I turned back to the Moths.
I knewthe heart-wrenching memory of the stillborn baby belonged to one of them, just as I knewit was the Morrígan’s bitter-tasting magic that had drawn the memory out for me to see. But I didn’t know which of the girls had lost their child, and none of the three appeared to know she’d shared the painful memory with me. I also didn’t know what, if anything, I was supposed to do about it.