Angel Falls (Cassandra Bick Chronicles Book 3) (7 page)

Well, he hadn’t left me much option, had he? I held out my hand to accept the gun.

‘Feed him this bag then move out of reach. Don’t sit close enough for him to grab you. He should be weak and disorientated when he comes round, and that’s when you shoot, if you have to.’ His gaze searched my face, as if checking I was telling the truth, that I really could kill Laclos if I needed to. I’m not sure I was pleased that what he saw made him nod.

‘I’ll be in the kitchen. It shouldn’t take long.’

Then he kissed me lightly on the top of my head and left, closing the door behind him.

***

It felt like the longest wait of my life, but in fact it took less than half an hour. I was fidgeting and anxious, my hands so clammy with sweat that I had to keep wiping them on my jeans so I wouldn’t fumble the gun. I’d been staring at Laclos so hard my eyes were watering, and when his eyelids started to flutter once more, for a second I thought I was imagining things. Then one pale, long fingered hand started to twitch, and he shifted in his sleep, head and neck moving as bone and muscle started to repair, invisibly, impossibly mending what had seemed like catastrophic damage. I closed my eyes for a second, offering a prayer to whatever deity would have me, then I rolled out my Sense. Timid at first, nervous, probing… then I sagged into my seat with relief. It didn’t exactly feel like Laclos – there was a jaggedness I’d never Sensed before – but the red mist of madness had dissipated.

‘Cassandra?’ he croaked, eyes blinking open. He pulled himself slowly into a sitting position, and even from here I could tell the fever heat had faded. He looked slightly flushed from feeding and ruffled from the fight, but I was unmistakably looking at Laclos again. He turned to me, and blinked rapidly, as if struggling to focus, and his expression was bereft, all his usual pride and arrogance gone, leaving this broken thing. Perhaps that’s why I didn’t hesitate when he reached for me, and I took him in my arms and held him tightly to me, letting him cling to me in return, his head buried in my shoulder.

When he finally looked up at me, his eyes were rimmed red with tears.

‘Oh, Cassandra. I remember it all. I know what I have done. Everything.’ And then he fell back into my arms, weeping like a child.

***

I wasn’t sure how long I held him, stunned by this outpouring of grief. I stroked his hair, murmuring nonsensical words of reassurance and comfort, rocking him as you would a crying infant. Eventually, I felt his shoulders stiffen, and, summoning some internal reserve, he pulled away from me, wiping his blood-smeared face with the heels of his hand, managing a wobbly smile.

‘So… I suppose it is time for me to go to face my saviour.’

Cain was in the kitchen, seated at the table, his back to the door, seemingly staring out of the window at the darkness beyond. He’d made some attempt to repair my back door, but since the frame had buckled under Laclos’ rather dramatic entrance and the door itself was in fragments, there had been little he could do, so he’d basically just duct taped over the hole. It wouldn’t deter an optimistic burglar, but I think even London’s most enterprising thieves would take one look at my ravaged kitchen and decide they wouldn’t bother.

I wondered why he wasn’t facing us – not like Cain to have his back to the door – but realised we were perfectly reflected in the dark glass of the kitchen window, since a vampire as old as Laclos has learned to keep his reflection by default. He stood up as we came in, his face unreadable.

I’d got Laclos a fresh t-shirt from Cain’s bag – while vampires weren’t bothered about nudity (Laclos even less than most), I thought it would be better for his dignity to replace the tattered rags that had been hanging around his neck, and it looked like he needed every boost he could get. I’d never seen Laclos look so shattered. He was walking like a new born foal, unsteady on glass legs, his gaze on the floor, his hand gripping mine so tightly the circulation was struggling. I saw Cain’s eyes drop, briefly, to our joined hands, but I could hardly let Laclos go now. I wasn’t sure he’d stay upright if I did.

Saying nothing, Cain poured a refill of whisky into his own glass from a bottle that had come from this morning’s shopping but already stood almost empty, though I suspected it would take more than that to get him drunk: there wasn’t even a hint of booze in his scent, and when he came close I got only the merest trace of whisky on his breath. He poured some wine for me, then went to the fridge and pulled out a blood bag, squeezing its contents into a mug in a small, surprising courtesy. Laclos’ eyes flickered towards it, as Cain set the mug down on the counter top and then stepped back, as if still keen to keep some distance between them. I took my glass and, propping Laclos against the counter, handed him his mug, which he took gratefully with trembling hands.

I wasn’t sure what to say, even my usual gift of filling any silence with inane babbling failing me. My Sense was still quaking, and the rest of me wasn’t doing much better. While Cain was always a black hole to my Sense, I’d started to be better at picking up his most superficial emotions – because, given his generally stoic expression and lack of openness, I’d figured it was the only way I’d ever have a clue what he was thinking. But here my Sense slid off him like water on glass, and I would no more try and probe deeper than I’d stick my hand in the fire. Laclos, in contrast, was a maelstrom – shame and humiliation and hunger and fear vying with anger and pain, all swirling against that core of enormous power, the 1000-year-old vampire who was, ironically, too weak to tamp down the strength of his age. He took a long drink of the blood, as much for distraction as sustenance – I tried not to be icked out by the fact that it was one of my favourite Star Wars mugs. That could just be his, now. Then he lifted his head and looked squarely at Cain, though when he spoke, his voice cracked.

‘It seems I owe you both a considerable debt of gratitude and… a significant apology.’

Cain frowned at this last part, looking blank, and for a moment I was furious. I thought he was being a dick, forcing Laclos to articulate his sins. But then I realised he was genuinely puzzled as to what Laclos was apologising for. I wondered if he actually had far better insight into the blood madness than either Laclos or I had and, as such, didn’t see it as something the sufferer had to be held accountable for. Then he gave a curt nod, and something in Laclos relaxed, though Cain’s voice was flint.

‘You don’t tell anyone what I am. You don’t share blood with anyone until mine is completely out of your system. You break either of these rules, and I’ll kill you. Are we clear?’

I waited for some sarcastic comeback, but Laclos merely nodded, meekly.

‘There are blood bags in the fridge, and I can get you more if needed. Don’t feed from the vein until you’re sure you can control yourself. A little vampire blood might even you out but be careful – we both know there are limits to what you can drink from another vampire…’ (Were there? I had no idea of this. Another thing to add to my list of Stuff I Really Should Know About Others.) ‘And it might be a little rich for your system.’ He sighed: Laclos looked so miserable that it was impossible for even Cain not to feel a little sorry for him. ‘You feel shit right now because my blood is affecting you like an energy drink on an empty stomach. But once you’ve evened out you’ll feel better. It’ll be a boost to your system, and you’ll be stronger as long as it lasts. Which might come in handy when we have to deal with all the crap you’ve kicked up.’

Laclos nodded again, then he looked up from his mug and his eyes met Cain’s. Neither man looked comfortable with what he saw.

‘When it wears off… what about the other… effects?’

‘What other effects?’ I asked, curiosity finally curing my silence. Not that it mattered, as they both ignored me, Cain directing his answer to Laclos.

‘I have no idea.’ He looked away – was he actually embarrassed? – then, something hardening in his expression, turned back to Laclos. ‘But understand this, vampire. You break my rules and no matter who you are to Cass, no matter our own history…’

‘Um, what history?’ I asked, but apparently I was still invisible.

‘I will tear open your throat and pack the wound with silver. Do we understand one another?’

Something of the old Laclos sparked in his eyes and he smiled.

‘How can I fail to understand you when you express yourself with your usual admirable clarity?’

Cain ignored the barb.

‘Drink as much blood as you can stomach. I’ve got some calls to make.’

He took his drink and stalked from the room without looking at either of us, though as he passed me he laid a hand on my shoulder, so briefly and lightly I could’ve imagined it.

***

While Cain made whatever mysterious calls he felt the need to, I brought Laclos up to speed on what was happening – the visit from the young vampire, Medea’s failed magic. He listened attentively, topping up his blood and occasionally pulling a face, presumably at the indignity of having to drink blood from a mug with a cartoon picture of a stormtrooper on it.

‘So, any idea who sent the young guy?’ I asked, once I’d finished my update.

He took another sip, grimacing slightly.

‘There are, as far as I am aware, around a dozen clans of any size or strength in London, with many more smaller, younger… for want of a better word, let’s say ‘families’. I would assume most of those smaller nests would simply try to ignore or ride out any dispute between their superiors.’

‘Let’s try not to bring out my inner class warrior by using words like ‘superiors’, shall we?’ I interjected, annoyed.

He inclined his head, though not hiding what he thought of my objection.

‘Apologies. Let us go with ‘seniors’, then. I attacked six of those larger clans. Two surrendered immediately, one with… some cost. The other three I left with an ultimatum, and in all of these cases I… removed some of their strongest vampires to prove the sincerity of my offer.’ He was trying to keep his tone light, but neither of us wanted to think about the bloodshed behind the words. ‘The result, I would imagine, is that one of the clans – or combination thereof – is trying to stop me.’

‘The vampire spoke of a truce.’

Laclos sighed.

‘Perhaps that is what they want. But I have broken rules that have been in place for decades, and I have used power they do not understand to do so. I cannot imagine they will be content with merely my word that I will not do so again.’

‘Well, that’s cheery.’ I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling it back from my face in frustration. Laclos reached out and took one of my hands, his skin still warmer than any vampire should ever be.

‘What are you not telling me, Cassandra?’

I frowned, casting a glance towards the closed kitchen door.

‘I’m not sure Cain wants you to know,’ I said, my voice low.

‘Cain is an angel, so can hear you perfectly well even when you whisper,’ came a grumpy voice from the hallway. Laclos smiled, waving an airy hand in his direction, making no attempt to lower his own volume.

‘I am sure he can come crashing in here like the big macho hero that he is any time he wishes to interrupt you,’ he said pleasantly. When no sound came in response, I figured it was safe to continue, even if I felt slightly thrown by, once again, realising I had no idea as to the extent of Cain’s abilities or how they worked.

‘Cain thinks there will be… consequences to him sharing his blood with you. He thinks other angels will come after him. I don’t know what that means, but I’m guessing it won’t be good.’

Laclos looked stricken by this news.

‘I’m so sorry…’

‘It’s not…’ I began, then realised I wasn’t the one he was talking to. He cocked his head, listening to some response I couldn’t hear – well, that wasn’t annoying
at all
– then turned his attention back to me, forcing a smile that was suddenly a lot less certain.

‘Well, it seems we have our work cut out for us.’

***

On cue, Cain came back in, tucking his phone in his pocket and topping up his drink.

‘You heard all that?’ he asked, and Laclos nodded. I wasn’t sure I was thrilled by this new super-hearing psychic accord, and, sensing my annoyance, he turned to me.

‘Mariko and Leon are up to date, but I told them not to come over in case they were followed here, I don’t want them leading people to your flat. Besides, I figure we’ve done enough for tonight, and I know you’ll want to work tomorrow.’

Despite the fact this was said with a touch of resignation, it was unusually thoughtful of him. I wondered if his own new-found vulnerability finally made him realise what it was like to be human when your world – and your sleeping patterns – were thrown into such disarray.

‘They agree Laclos should avoid St Paul’s or his apartment.’ We both nodded, though I was still a little stung at discovering only days ago that Laclos had a secret flat at Shad Thames he hadn’t told me about. ‘I called Medea as well, figured you’d want her to know there’s no need for a locator spell after all.’

‘Did you speak to her?’

‘Spoke to Katie, who said Medea is in bed with a migraine. I got a very strong sense that she wants this to be our problem, not theirs.’

‘Hardly surprising.’

Cain nodded, his tone approving.

‘Her priority is her girl. Have to respect that.’

I was reminded that despite the fact that – or maybe because – they butted heads occasionally, Cain was actually quite fond of Katie.

‘I called one of my sources,’ he went on – he’d certainly been busy while Laclos and I were having our Previously On recap. ‘Asked if he’d picked up anything unusual.’

‘Angel unusual?’

He barked out a bitter laugh.

‘No, angels aren’t subtle, they won’t come at us sly. But increased activity – especially violent activity – sends out a lot of ripples in a lot of different ponds. I want to know who picks up on that. There’s certainly been more chatter in hunter circles, and some in the Other clans up north, but so far nothing concrete.’

‘Is it just me or is this party starting to become a little crowded?’ I sighed, and he shrugged.

‘Only going to get worse.’

‘You’re always so cheery.’

He smiled at that, then turned to Laclos, all business.

‘You full? Cos I think we should go.’

Laclos frowned.

‘As you so thoroughly ascertained, my usual… haunts are tainted. Did you have a location in mind?’

‘I’ve got a couple of possible places. You need to rest up and recover, we can hardly leave you sleeping it off here with the curtains drawn.’

‘You going to chuck a mattress over some gold bars?’ I asked, because yes, I was still bitter about that, thanks for asking. Cain grinned.

‘If I buy you a new fridge will you let that go?’

‘Oh no!’ Laclos protested, looking at the fridge as if only just noticing himself imprinted there. ‘Obviously I insist on paying for all of the damages – the door, the bedding, everything. Once I get access to my funds, of course.’

Finally, some good news. I hated to be mercenary, but while this drama and destruction was keeping life interesting, it was playing merry hell with my insurance premiums. Plus, you try making a claim when the cause is ‘trashed by a vampire’.

Cain looked approving at this. Macho he might be – he liked to be the one who saved the day – but I was also starting to suspect he was just ever so slightly a wee bit tight. Certainly, in all the years I’d known him, he’d managed to keep that wealth a well-hidden secret. But he was also clearly impatient to be gone, and Laclos didn’t need any psychic bond to pick up on that. He gulped down the last of his mug of blood with a look of mild distaste then turned with a slight bow of his head to me.

‘Thank you, Cassandra. We will speak more fully tomorrow.’

He hugged me briefly but tightly. His warmth was still disconcerting, as was the trace of Cain that clung to him like a scent. Then he turned back to Cain, voice artificially bright.

‘Angel, I am in your hands. Tell me, is this offered shelter of yours one which will mysteriously collapse, burying me under rubble for the next few decades?’

Cain smiled properly at that.

‘Depends on how much you annoy me on the way over.’

Laclos shot me a deliberately dramatic look of alarm.

‘Oh, dear,’ he sighed, following him out.