Poison City (17 page)

Kincaid sighs heavily. He bares his teeth in a grimace. The light glints on the iron inside his mouth. He rubs his face in a gesture that is almost weary. He straightens up and looks me in the eye.

‘Where is the soul, London?’

I slump back in my chair, staring at him in disappointment. Had I known? Deep down inside? The attacks couldn’t really have happened without Kincaid’s authority, could they?

‘What the hell, Kincaid?’ Softly. Regretfully. I really thought Kincaid was a friend. We’d spent many nights chatting about his old life. I’d stuck up for him at the Division. I
vouched
for him.

‘I am sorry, London. This is not my fault. None of this is.’

‘Then whose fault it is? The buck is supposed to stop with you.’

‘Not anymore.’

-I don’t like this,
- says the dog.

-Me neither.-

‘Who do you answer to?’ I ask.

‘I can’t say.’

‘Kincaid. You
have
to tell me. If something’s going down in vamp society, the Division needs to know.’

Kincaid laughs bitterly. ‘In vampire society? My friend, you are thinking too small. What is happening now involves the entire world.’

I pause. ‘What?’

‘The ramanga’s death wasn’t even the first move. He is just another link in the chain.’

‘What chain? What did he do?’

‘It is not what he did. It is what he knew.’

‘But . . . what’s all this about his soul? The guy’s dead.’

‘Do not act as if you do not know. He . . . what is the term? He backed it up before he was killed. No, that is not right. He put his soul into safekeeping. His body was on autopilot when he died. He must have known he was being hunted.’

I stare at him. ‘You’re saying the ramanga’s soul is hidden away somewhere? That it’s in – what? A safe-deposit box or something?’

Kincaid nods.

‘And you think I know where it is? You thought
Armitage
knew?
That’s
why she was killed?’

Kincaid says nothing. I lean back in the chair. What a waste. Armitage dead for something she didn’t even know.

‘Fuck, Kincaid. We knew nothing about that. This is the first I’ve heard of any of this.’

-
Is that even possible?
- I ask the dog. –
Hiding a soul like that?-

-Yeah. It is. Pretty common, actually.-

Kincaid frowns. ‘I do not like being lied to, London.’

‘Join the club. Does safe passage mean nothing to you guys anymore?’

‘You have not been hurt.’

‘Yet.’

‘Just give us the soul, then you are free to go on your way.’

‘Kincaid, I
told
you. I have no idea where it is.’

‘Armitage must have told you. There were calls to your cell phone—’

‘I didn’t answer! I was out drinking! Why are you so convinced she even knew?’

‘Because,’ says a woman’s voice from somewhere above us, ‘she did the same thing with her
own
soul.’

I see Kincaid’s face twist with fear. That, more than anything else, makes me realise I’m in serious trouble here. Again. Twice in one night might be a record even for me.

I look up into the shadows of the hold. A balcony circles the top section. A shadowy figure stands there, hands spread across the railing, watching us.

Then the words actually hit home. I stand up.

‘Wait – you’re saying Armitage put her soul somewhere? For safety? That it wasn’t in her body when she died?’

‘Correct. She suspected she was in danger. She is a clever woman.’

The shadowy figure moves, heading towards the stairs that lead down into the hold.

-Any idea what’s going on?-

-None. But I’d like to take this opportunity to mention that I was against this from the start.-

The figure descends, reaches the floor. Kincaid glances over his shoulder, gets up and carefully holds the chair back.

‘You do not rise when in the company of your betters?’ says the voice.

I say nothing, just wait as she approaches the light. She’s about six feet tall, wearing a black vest and black trousers. Her arms are bare, toned with muscle. She has long dark hair that’s parted in the middle, falling to either side of an angular face. Faint lines in the skin. Not wrinkles, but the hint of what is to come in the years ahead. Dark brown eyes, expressive. Showing amusement and slight annoyance.

She’s . . . well, she’s majestic. Beautiful. She radiates intelligence. Awareness. Power.

She sits down and smiles slightly, a slight crease to the side of her mouth. She breathes in deeply.

‘Busy night?’ she asks.

‘You could say that.’

‘We have not been properly introduced.’

‘No.’

The woman looks to Kincaid.

‘Uh . . . Gideon Tau,’ says Kincaid quickly. ‘This is Lilith. The First. Mother of the Illium. Mother of the Watchers. The First Ruler of Eden.’

-Oh,
fuck
,-
says the dog.
-London, you need to get out of here. Now.-

-Why? She’s not . . . She’s not
the
Lilith is she?-

-Adam’s first wife? The one who told God to go fuck himself when he expected her to bow down to Adam? Yeah, she is.-

I blink in surprise. I had no idea that was a real story. It’s kinda hard to tell, you know? Some myths are real. Some aren’t. The Division is still finding this stuff out as we go along.

‘So you’re the one responsible for my friend’s death?’

‘She is not dead. Her soul lives on.’

‘Fat lot of good that does her if she’s the only one who knows where it is.’

She leans forward on the table, stretching her arms out slowly across the Formica, almost as if she was enjoying the feel against her skin.

‘Do you enjoy your life?’ she asks.

‘Um . . . sure. Ups and downs. Swings and roundabouts, you know?’

‘It never seems that way. Your kind, you are like privileged rich children. Handed everything you could possibly want, yet you do nothing with it. Always bored. Always searching for excitement. Never happy with what you have.’

‘O-k-a-y. You heading towards a point here?’

‘Just that I am going to make your lives exciting again. Interesting.’

‘And how are you going to do that?’

‘What is it your kind call our two worlds? Night and Day?’

I say nothing.

‘You are the Day. Sunshine. Life. Laughter. We are the Night. Death. Darkness. Fear. Correct?’

I shrug.

‘Who decided this?’

‘Who decided what?’

‘That our kind were to be relegated to the shadows.’

‘You’re asking me? Shit, lady. I have no idea. It’s just the way it’s always been. To be honest, I thought you guys
preferred
lurking around in the dark. Some of you . . . you’re not exactly fit for the catwalk, you know?’

Too much. I see her eyes darken. The skin tighten around her eyes. I raise my hands.

‘Apologies. That was out of order. I have no idea who decided. It’s just always been that way.’

‘Not always. Three hundred thousand years ago my kind – the orisha – were the dominant species. Then your kind turned up. Threw all sorts of problems into the mix. You breed like rabbits, you see. We couldn’t keep up. You overwhelmed the world. A plague. Pushed us aside. Kicked us out of our own home.’

‘I think that’s called survival of the fittest.’

Lilith smiles. ‘I’m so glad you agree.’

I hesitate. ‘Sorry?’

‘Survival of the fittest. You are correct. And now it is time for us to retake the world. I’ve been waiting a very long time for this.’

‘Have you?’

‘And all we need from you is the location of the ramanga’s soul.’

‘OK, even if I
did
know, which I
don’t
, what makes you think I’d be crazy enough to tell you now? After what you just said?’

‘Because you know I’m right.’

I blink. ‘I do?’

‘Yes. Your kind – you have made a mess of everything. Corruption is endemic. Poverty is increasing. Overpopulation threatens to destroy the world. Diseases are left unchecked because pharmaceutical companies make more from treatment instead of cures. I mean, give it a hundred years and you will probably be on the way out anyway.’

‘So why not wait?’

‘Because you seem intent on a scorched earth policy, destroying the world before you go. We do not want to inherit a desert.’

‘Well . . .’ I say uncertainly, uncomfortable with the fact that I sort of agree with everything she just said.

Lilith leans forward. ‘Also, if you do not tell me where the soul is we will kill everyone you know. Starting with your ex-wife, Becca.’

I don’t say anything. The fear, the familiar pain and terror of someone close to me dying because of something I’ve done, rises up and utterly engulfs me.

‘You surprise me,’ says Lilith, one perfect eyebrow raised in amusement. ‘No, “If you touch her I’ll kill you”? No, “If you lay one finger on her I won’t rest until you are destroyed”? I’m disappointed.’ She pauses, cocks her head to the side, thinking. ‘Or am I impressed? No pointless threats. No blustering. It’s quite refreshing, actually. You should have heard your boss. Such language. I was afraid my poor delicate ears were going to fall off.’

I clench my jaw a few times. Things are moving too fast here. I’m messing this up. Keep it cool, London. You’re here for information. You’re here for Cally.

‘The man. The big guy who did the killing for you. Where is he?’

‘Resting. Far away.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Why would I tell you that?’

She stands up and walks slowly around the table, moving out of sight behind me. I feel her breath on my ear. A tingle courses through my body. She smells of jasmine and summer afternoons, a heady mixture of heat and pleasure. Aren’t there legends about Lilith being a succubus as well?

‘We are taking back the world, Gideon Tau. A war is coming, and those we let live won’t recognize what is left behind. You would be advised to pick your side wisely.’

She moves around the table and sits down again.

‘I’ll ask one more time, and if you don’t tell me I’ll assume you are of no use to us. Where is the soul?’

In answer, I reach beneath my shirt and yank two water pistols from inside my pant line. One pistol is dayglo orange. The other dayglo pink. I rest my elbows on the table and point them at Kincaid and Lilith.

-
Dude,-
says the dog. -
If you’d told me you had a death wish I could have ripped your throat out for you. I wouldn’t even have had to leave the house.-

‘And what are you going to do with those?’ asks Lilith, amused.

‘Here’s the thing. First, you’re going to tell me where the killer is. Then I’m going to walk out of here. I’m going to take your boat and head back to the beach, where I’ll leave it for you to pick up. You will not bother me again.’

‘London—’ begins Kincaid, but Lilith holds a hand up and he instantly stops talking.

‘I’m curious as to your thought processes here,’ says Lilith.

-Yeah, me too.-

‘Usually I can predict what the food will do. But you . . . not so much.’

‘Ninety per cent of the time
I
don’t even know what I’m going to do,’ I say. ‘It makes life more . . . interesting.’

Lilith nods solemnly and places her hands together, resting them against her mouth while she studies me. ‘Then proceed.’

I pull the trigger on the water pistol.

A stream of water squirts out and hits Lilith in the face.

An embarrassed silence follows.

-Dude,-
says the dog in awe.
-I don’t even know what you’re doing right now. This is
amazing
.-

I frown at my water pistol. Give it a shake. Then fire again. Still nothing.

‘Are you done?’

I shift my aim and pull the trigger. The water shoots out and hits Kincaid’s hand. He leaps to his feet with a cry of surprise and pain. Greasy smoke writhes up from his blistering skin.

‘Tau! What the fuck, man!’

I gesture at Kincaid with my water pistol. ‘See, that’s the effect I was going for.’ I scratch my forehead with the barrel. ‘Guess holy water doesn’t work on you, huh?’

‘Some call me a vampire, but I was created by God. What do you think?’

I nod. ‘Noted.’

Kincaid is cradling his hand in his arm, looking at me with wounded eyes.