A Dance in Blood Velvet (21 page)

“Whose side are you on?” Ben demanded.

“Yours, of course, but it’s unfair to make me choose!”

“Don’t blame me, blame my brother. I haven’t abused my position to exploit and murder people!”

She turned away, biting her lip. “Ben, I’m on your side. But how can you control these vampires, or feed them? Does the Book explain? Don’t lose your temper, just because I ask a question you can’t answer.”

Ben looped his hand through her arm, but she remained wooden. “Come on, old girl,” he said gently. “I’m sorry. I don’t know, but I’d better find out fast.”

“How?”

Ben lit a cigar, staring through blue haloes of smoke as he pondered.
What the hell shall I do?
He pictured the Book standing sentinel outside the narrow attic door.
Do you contain the secret of transforming a nest of adders into a demon army? Give me answers, damn you!

He said, “Andreas?”

The vampire gave him a cold, bitter stare.

“If the vampires have blood, I assume they’ll begin to recover. How are they likely to behave?”

Andreas laughed. Barely audible over the crackling fire, he replied, “I have no idea. We were all human once. Like humans, we are all different.”

A chilling thought. “You aren’t saying that you all died human, and I resurrected you as vampires?”

“No, Benedict. We were vampires before.” How crisp was his accent, how beautifully precise his English. Delicately self-mocking, hypnotic. “You didn’t create us, only woke us. When they taste blood they’ll begin to recover - and they’ll be savagely angry and hungry, as I was. But I should admit, my friend, that I am a coward as vampires go. I like being looked after and I’ll do anything for a quiet life. You find me easy to control, yes? I am a kitten. What you have in your attic, quite possibly, are eight ravenous tigers.”

Benedict poured more brandy and swallowed it, grimacing.
God, what a nightmare!
Bad enough, taking Andreas each night to hunt humans; doing the same for nine vampires was unthinkable. They were in pain, suffering, and useless to him... but how in all conscience could he let them feed? How the hell to control them, if he did?

Andreas had been too easy.

As if reading his thoughts, Holly said, “I can’t see an answer. It’s inhuman and dangerous. You’ll have to swallow your pride and ask Lancelyn for help.”

“Never!” Ben shouted.

“You can’t cope alone!”

“Yes, I can!” He lowered his voice. “I’ve made a decision. I’ll leave the creatures as they are for now, with the Book to control them. When Andreas is stronger, he can help me with them, one by one.”

Her mouth began to form denial, but she only shook her head in despair.

“Support me, Holly, please. Lancelyn must not find out. It’s essential! Promise me!”

Not meeting his eyes, Holly promised.

* * *

There was no telling what Lancelyn might do next.

Benedict could not face another visit. The less contact they had, the better.

He endured the following days in a state of tension. Leaving the house was unavoidable, but he dreaded leaving Holly alone, even with the protection of the Book. He tried to send her to her family in Norfolk, but she refused.

The best solution, in the end, was for Holly to work in the shop while he stayed at home. He gave Maud various excuses; that he had flu, or needed to work at home. Holly returned each evening, complaining that Maud had driven her mad all day, that Ben hadn’t instructed Mrs Potter to do the right jobs. Their bickering was a symptom of darker anxieties; the intrusion of the otherworld, the constant pressure of presences behind the attic door.

Ben let Andreas hunt alone each evening, trusting him to return. He always did, as if content to be at Ben’s command. Soon there were rumours of a flu epidemic around Ashvale... even a few deaths.

Andreas should go further afield to hunt; I’ll buy a car and teach him to drive
, Ben thought. And then he put his head in his hands and groaned at the awful banality of evil.

At night, unable to sleep, he stared at the ceiling for hours, hearing faint scratches and moans above...
I can’t bring victims here,
he thought.
But even if Andreas were to take them out one by one... filling the town with vampires is unthinkable!

Amid his fears, he acknowledged a terrible fascination with these beings. Andreas’s transformation was remarkable. Every time he returned from feeding, there was visible improvement. His shrunken skin filled out, becoming smooth and radiant. His hair, black, soft and wavy, grew so fast that Holly had to trim it every day. And his face had an extraordinary beauty that Ben had only seen in paintings; ethereal with long, delicate features, deep green eyes with a wary gleam, a sculpted mouth. He was tall but finely built, a rarefied creature, almost translucent.

He looked like a poet, and had the melodramatic temperament to fit. Ben was intrigued. Andreas couldn’t be judged by petty human standards, after all.

He tried everything to deflect Ben’s continual questioning, insisting he couldn’t remember, still less confide in a human. If Ben persisted, Andreas would sulk. But, slowly, information emerged. Ben’s ideas began to change.

The Crystal Ring was another realm, but whether it was the astral world - Lancelyn’s Raqia - he was unsure. There seemed to be no spirits, angels or devils there; only vampires - which were, perhaps, all of those. Yet Andreas seemed to have no deeper insights than a human.

And Ben thought,
Lancelyn’s been deluding himself. I know more than he does!

One Sunday afternoon, Benedict heard the hiss of bicycle tyres, and looked out to see an unwelcome figure dismounting from his cycle at front door. Holly was in the back garden, Andreas in the study with Ben.

“God Almighty, it’s Lancelyn!” Ben cried, jumping up. “He mustn’t see you. Go into the kitchen, shut the door and stay there.”

“Liebe Gott,
isn’t it enough that I must hide when your housekeeper’s here or the baker at the door? I’m bored with it.” The vampire obeyed wearily, while Benedict opened the front door with a show of composure.

“Good afternoon. To what do I owe this - honour?”

“Oh, don’t be sardonic, Ben.” Lancelyn spoke gruffly, removing his bicycle clips. “It doesn’t suit you. How are you? There was a rumour you’d had the flu.”

How ordinary he looked, a flush-faced gnome with dishevelled hair; how harmless!

“No, I’m in fine fettle.”

“Are you sure, old man? Pale and tired, I’d say. Hope you haven’t been overdoing it. Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Benedict showed him into the parlour, offering cigarettes and whisky. They sat down in apparent civility, Ben feeling as deadly calm as his enemy looked. Playing the British game.

“I regret our argument,” said Lancelyn.

“So do I.”

“So I’ve come to make peace - if you want it.”

Ben was startled and suspicious. “Oh yes?”

“You haven’t been to a meeting for two weeks,” said Lancelyn.

“I thought you’d expelled me from the Order.”

“Nonsense. I need you.”

“Ah, yes. Your fishing trip next weekend, isn’t it?”

Lancelyn clearly heard the edge in Ben’s voice; he gave a long, cold stare. “Anyway, Ben, I’ve come for the Book. Give it back now, and no hard feelings, eh?”

“I told you, you can’t have it”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lancelyn said crisply. “Where is it?”

“Never mind the damned Book!” Ben pulled Deirdre’s letter out of his pocket and put it into Lancelyn’s hands. “Read this. It can’t do her any further harm, now she’s dead.”

Lancelyn read it swiftly, his only reaction a frown. Then he tore it in half and threw it on the fire.

“Not much point in burning it,” said Ben. “I won’t forget what she said. You can’t tear my mind in half, can you? Is it true?”

Lancelyn said nothing. Ben shouted, “Is it true, damn you?”

“For God’s sake. Yes, it’s true.”

Ben was devastated. For a white-hot moment, he felt like a child betrayed by his father. “So you provide drugs, sex and occult thrills to rich fools, and then you blackmail them? When James and Deirdre challenged you, you killed them! How could you? I looked up to you!”

“What upsets you, little brother?” Lancelyn said without emotion. “The nature of the Hidden Temple? Or the fact that I kept it secret? I didn’t tell you because I wanted to protect you.”

“What the hell from?”

“Oh, come on! You were always disgusted by sex. I’ve never known such a prude; you must get it from Father. For heaven’s sake, you were a virgin at twenty-three! You’d still be one now if I hadn’t set Holly to seduce you.”

Ben was outraged. “Holly and I found each other without any help from you. I’m all for free will - but blackmail is the exact opposite! Your Hidden Temple is about nothing but corruption.”

“The type of people who join are corrupt,” Lancelyn said smoothly. “Don’t they deserve what they get? The higher their status, they more they want to roll in filth. I tell you, I could bring down this government and the next with what I know. Now that is power.”

Although Benedict was aghast, he felt an awful excitement. Firm ground to challenge Lancelyn at last. “Maybe so, but it’s not what we set out to do. Where’s Sophia in all this? What’s happened to Wisdom?”

“Can’t you work it out?” Lancelyn said archly.

“You’re playing games. You can’t wriggle off the hook by pretending there’s some higher motive. James and Deirdre - what had their deaths to do with the path to Meter Theon?”

Lancelyn was immovable. “They knew what happens to Neophytes who break their oaths, but I didn’t kill them. I only played on their fears. How they chose to face those fears was their affair.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this. How could I be so wrong about you? I thought you were noble, perfect!”

“Well, I’m not.” Lancelyn leaned back his head and blew smoke rings. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to take the Order away from you and put it back on the right lines.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“This sounds like a declaration of war.”

“It is,” Ben said passionately. “It’s been undeclared for quite some time.”

“My dear boy, I
am
the Order. Even if you seduced my neophytes away, which you can’t, I’d start another. The Temple of Meter Theon is where
I
am.”

“Not any more. By the time I’ve finished, you won’t want to be magus of anything. You’ll want nothing to do with the occult ever again!”

A long pause. Lancelyn seemed disturbed, at last. “These are bold threats, Ben. If there’s nothing to them, you’re going to look foolish - but if you mean what you say, I will win. And you’ll lose Holly for certain; she’ll come back to me.”

“No,” said Ben, controlling his rage on a wave of conviction. “You’ve already lost her. But I ask one thing: leave the other initiates out of this. If there’s a war, let’s keep it between the two of us. A little cowardly to throw others into the firing line, don’t you agree?”

Lancelyn looked surprised. Then his mouth spread into an unpleasant smile. “You’re quite right. Just the two of us; that’s only fair.”

“But try anything like the tricks you worked on Deirdre, and you’ll be sorry.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Nothing so crude.” Lancelyn drained his glass, flicked his cigarette end into the fire, and stood. “Well, I’ll be going. So glad we had this little talk to sort out our differences. And now, the Book, if you please.”

“No,” said Ben. “It’s not yours. I’m keeping it.”

“Something in it, is there?” Lancelyn winked knowingly. “I’m sorry about this, Ben - but not as sorry as you will shortly be.”

Ben showed him to the door and watched him leave.

Lancelyn mounted his bicycle and rode away whistling.

* * *

The garden was Holly’s refuge. She’d been on her knees all afternoon, digging up weeds until her hands ached; now, pulling off soil-plastered gloves, she sat on her favourite bench and watched the evening sunshine slanting golden-red through the fresh young leaves.

Physical tiredness helped her relax. The house was full of unpleasant vibrations, and strong instinct warned her to stay outside.

Nothing but trouble since this argument with Lancelyn began,
she thought.
I wish it were over, I wish I’d never been psychic or joined the Order.

She loved both Ben and Lancelyn, but could not keep them from each other’s throats.

The garden was lush and full of life, the only fragment of the world she could control.

“May I join you?” said a soft voice. She started. Andreas stood gilded by the sunset.

“Of course,” she said guardedly, moving along to make room. “Sit down. You don’t seem to mind the daylight.”

“What do you expect me to do, catch fire?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never met a vampire before. I’m curious about people, so why should I treat you any differently? Is there a special way I should address you?”

He half-smiled. “I hope not. Your husband makes me feel less a vampire than a zoo exhibit.”

“Why don’t you leave, then?”

“Nowhere to go,” he said. “I’m content here. I like you and Benedict, however infuriating he can be. By the way, his brother was here.”

“When?” That was the feeling of unease she’d had! She made to stand, but Andreas held her back.

“He’s gone. Stay and talk to me. They had quite an argument. Benedict shut me in the kitchen, but of course he doesn’t realise that vampires can hear through walls.”

“What did they say?”

Andreas told her. Holly shut her eyes and said, “Oh dear God. What next?”

He went on, his voice soothing. “Lancelyn is like Benedict; he also has strange gifts, I could tell. I’ve never before met humans who recognise what I am,
and
hold power over me. Ben reminds me... There’s a vampire called Kristian who rules us, but Ben is different; not yet sure of his powers, whereas Kristian is overconfident... I wonder where he is? The last I remember is Kristian’s face gloating over me as he left me for dead in the
Weisskalt.”
Andreas shivered. “Now I learn it happened forty years ago. I am in a foreign country... and I don’t mean England.”