Secret Lives (15 page)

She snapped the phone shut. ‘Mission accomplished,’ she said, a little unhappily.

‘Mission in motion,’ said Jake darkly. ‘Hardly accomplished. You got a date?’

‘The Arc de Triomphe. Tomorrow. It’s a really special day, he says. He wants to show me something spectacular. I feel like a worm.’

Isabella patted her hand. ‘Listen, sound him out carefully, hm? Maybe he will even want to help us.’

‘Maybe.’

Jake pulled hard on the oars again. ‘Thanks, Cassie. A lot. You’re doing the right thing, you know that.’

‘I know that.’ Uneasily she surveyed the wintry parkland.

‘So don’t worry,’ Jake chivvied. ‘It’s only a date. What can go wrong with that? And you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.’

‘Yeah. I dunno, though.’ Cassie licked her lips; they felt dry and cracked in the frosty air.

‘Don’t know what?’

‘I’ve got a really bad feeling about tomorrow.’

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

‘I
ncredible, isn’t it?’ Richard squeezed her shoulders.

Setting behind the Arc de Triomphe, the sun was a golden fire. As the dazzle intensified, it lit the edges of the Arc and turned into a halo of flame. The whole structure seemed ablaze.

Catching her breath, Cassie felt Richard’s fingers move towards her neck. She couldn’t speak, but she wasn’t sure if that was down to desire or fear.

‘It’s the anniversary of the Battle of Austerlitz. Napoleon’s greatest victory. The one day every year when the sun sets in line with the Arc and the Champs-Elysées.
Magnifique
,’ he murmured in her ear, ‘
n’est-ce pas?
’

‘You bet,’ she breathed.

They stood immobile until the light faded and the tourists around them had pocketed their digital cameras and dispersed in a babel of languages. Richard still held her tightly, and Cassie felt weak.

‘Come on, or we’ll miss the view!’ He broke into a run up the Champs-Elysées. Cassie ran after him, but he didn’t even slow down as he approached the maelstrom of traffic beneath the Arc.

‘Are you crazy?’ she yelled. She slid to a halt as he ran out between cars and motorcycles, oblivious to the blare of horns. For a fraction of a second she hesitated, but it seemed like a challenge, and she’d half-caught his madness. Grinning, she took a deep breath and pelted out through the traffic.

Insanity. She didn’t know how she made it through. The screech of tyres and the scream of horns almost deafened her, the strobing headlights half-blinded her, but she felt like some fish or bird with a sixth sense, as if nothing could touch her. And she was right, she thought with a surge of fierce delight, as she hurdled the row of low bollards around the Arc. Dammit, she was immortal tonight!

‘Cassie Bell, I knew you were perfect!’ whooped Richard, seizing her and whirling her round. ‘I knew it!’

‘Sure I am,’ she gasped. ‘But we’re going to get arrested.’

‘Nah. Come on!’

The golden glow was gone from the stone, and from its elaborate carvings and friezes. Instead, floodlights gave the Arc a ghostly aura, casting horses and soldiers into eerie relief. There was a chill in the air; it was getting late. Now the roar of traffic seemed far away.

‘Two hundred and eighty-four steps,’ he laughed. ‘I’ll race you!’

God, he was fit. Gamely, Cassie kept up with him as he took the first hundred steps up inside the Arc two at a time, and she wasn’t so far behind when he stumbled out at the top and pulled her after him. Recovering her breath, she watched the blue night fall on Paris. She didn’t know if the obstruction in her throat was down to the view or to her nagging guilt, but even the facetious Richard seemed struck sober. In the dusky air, it seemed as if every detail of the city came alive. Distantly, Sacré Coeur gleamed above Montmartre like a white pearl.

‘Told you you’d like it,’ he whispered.

She swallowed. ‘It’s amazing.’ She liked him too, that was the trouble.

‘You want to see something even better than this? Even better than the sunset?’

‘Come off it.’

‘No, really. I’m serious. There is something better. Trust me!’

She realised that for the last hour she’d forgotten what she was supposed to be doing. In the dimming evening, as traffic swirled around the Arc and the city sparked into colour and life, it was hard to read Richard’s expression.
Don’t trust him
, Jake had said. But she couldn’t help it. She shook her head.

‘Course I trust you. It’ll have to be pretty amazing to beat all this, though.’

‘Believe me, it’s more than pretty amazing.’

Reluctantly Cassie let him drag her away from the silver spiky railings and back to the steps. ‘What’s the hurry?’

‘You have a great head for heights, don’t you?’

‘Uh-huh. Can you slow down a bit, though?’ Head for heights or not, she wouldn’t want to stumble and fall on the stairs, yet Richard was springing down them so fast she could hardly keep up. Brimming with excitement, he could hardly contain himself and he didn’t seem to have heard her. Cassie yanked hard on his hand.

‘Whoa!’ she panted crossly, managing to drag him to a halt.

‘Sorry!’ He gave her a sweet, apologetic smile. ‘Got carried away.’

‘So did I, nearly. Take it easy, there’s loads of time.’

‘Not as much as you think.’ His eyes were so bright they were almost feverish. ‘Come on!’

She let go of his hand, feeling safer that way as she ran down the steps behind him. He dodged nimbly past other tourists, his enthusiasm infectious, and she found herself laughing as they jumped together to the bottom.

‘I’m waiting for the revelation,’ she teased.

‘Almost there, Cassie Bell.’ He grinned at her and blew a lock of dark hair out of his eyes. ‘Are you ready for the surprise of your life?’

‘Am I going to like it?’

‘That depends on you. But I reckon I know you quite well.’

‘So what do you reckon,’ she said, ‘knowing me so well?’

‘Babe, I think you’re going to love it!’

His fingertips hooked round a corner of stone, delicately stroked the edge of a huge block. As he glanced around a little nervously, so did she, but there were fewer tourists here beneath the arch, only a small party absorbed in the flickering flame on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and distracted by their guide.

Richard gave her a solemn wink, and pushed gently, and the block of stone swung silently wide.

She gaped. ‘What the—’

‘Shh! Quick!’ He squeezed her arm. ‘Go on, or they’ll see us!’

‘But where does it—’

‘There’s gendarmes over there,’ he whispered. ‘Hurry up!’

She swore, giggling, and pushed past him to edge into the darkness of the chamber. Swiftly he eased in after her, fumbling at the stone again from the inside until the hidden door swung shut again.

The blackness was solid, the cold gripping. Cassie shut her eyes and opened them again, but it made no difference. There was a faint smell of dry stone and fragrant smoke, a sweetness in the air that was not entirely pleasant. Cassie’s heartbeat quickened.

‘Richard?’ Her voice echoed eerily.

‘It’s OK, I’m here. Hang on a sec.’ With the rasp of a Zippo lighter, a flame leaped into life. Cassie blinked.

Stone walls, faintly golden like the Arc, closed in on her from two sides, but surprisingly she couldn’t make out the ceiling: it receded too far into the shadows. At their backs the door was solidly shut, but the darkness beyond the flame wound downwards with no limit in sight. Obviously there was a passageway: a long one. Cassie held her breath, straining to listen. Was that a faint rustling, or … slithering?

Dumb thing to think. She rubbed her arms briskly. ‘This is … amazing. But I’m not sure I love it.’

‘Wait. There’s lights, proper ones. If I can just find the … ah. Let me go past.’ He squeezed past her in the narrow chamber, and turned, smiling at her expectantly in the dancing Zippo flame.

‘The switch?’ she prompted.

An explosion of pain in her head. Her whole body snapping forward. The stone floor slamming up to meet her.

And then even the last light, from the small brave flame, went out.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

A
headache like nothing she’d ever felt. It sawed into her brain like a cold knife and when she tried to open her eyes, the light burned. She squeezed them shut again, feeling another lance of pain. Migraine? She didn’t get migraines. Had she been drinking? She tried to roll on to her side and fumble for a paracetamol.

No. She couldn’t move. Her arms were stretched above her head and she couldn’t shift them. When she tried, sharp stabs raced through her shoulders, and something cut into her wrists.

She opened her eyes again. Her vision was blurred, but she could make out that the room was not terribly bright at all. The wall sconces were dim, flickering.

There’s lights! Let me go past
…

Richard. She remembered. Oh God.

She tried to kick out. That was no good either; her feet were restrained too. She was stretched tightly on some kind of stone table, smooth and hard beneath her back. She still wore her jeans and her thin T-shirt, but she was barefoot, and bitterly cold. Her hooded top and her jumper were gone. Panicking, she writhed again, and metal bit against her wrists and ankles. She gave a sharp cry of fear.

A hand stroked her forehead. She tried desperately to focus, still fighting her bonds.

‘Hush, now. Quiet. Don’t hurt yourself. We don’t want you hurt, Cassie.’

The male voice was muffled by some kind of hood. She thought she knew who was speaking, but she couldn’t be sure. Nor could she answer, since her breathing was harsh and high-pitched and panic tightened her throat.

‘Does your head hurt? I’m so sorry that was necessary.’

Cassie tried to focus, tried not to panic. That faint scent of fragrant smoke was stronger now, but whatever was burning, it didn’t take the edge off the chill.

‘We were afraid you’d resist. It looks as if we were right.’

She sensed a smile beneath the dark crimson hood, but there was no way of knowing for sure, since the only holes in it were narrow eye slits. ‘Don’t worry. Soon you won’t feel such pain. Not ever again.’

That remark dried her mouth altogether. She licked her lips, but it didn’t help. ‘Am I going to die?’ she managed to croak.

Laughter. ‘What a ridiculous idea.’

‘Is it?’

‘Of course it is. Cassie Bell, you’re not just going to
live
. You’re going to live as you’ve never lived before.’

The figure stepped back, so that she could see up into the darkness of the chamber. Now that her eyes had adjusted, she could make out most of it. The torches cast leaping shadows on to the ceiling, where she could make out carved creatures in the stone. They reminded her of something else, if only she could think straight.

Oh, yes. The knife. The monsters and demons above her were like the ones carved on that ancient hilt. And just like those ones, the carvings above her seemed to move.

No, they didn’t
seem
to move. They
were
moving. Biting back a scream, Cassie fought and tugged on her bonds, feeling blood on her wrists, blood on her ankles, and not caring.

‘That’s enough. Shh. You are not
permitted
to hurt yourself.’ The voice was stern as someone else stepped forward, and Cassie went still. Struggling made her head hurt too much anyway. With an effort she turned her aching head to meet another slitted gaze, another crimson hood.

‘I’m so pleased for you.’ This time the distorted voice was feminine, the accent tantalisingly familiar. ‘So pleased, Cassie. We shall be great friends.’

The hooded girl wore a key on a long gold chain around her neck. Behind her stood more sinister shapes. There was a whole circle of them. At least one of them wasn’t disguised.

‘
Richard?
’

The uneasy guilt left his face. With a forced grin he stepped forward, stretching out a hand to touch her manacled ones. When she only stared back, he linked his fingers through hers, and squeezed nervously.

‘Good news, Cassie! You’ve been chosen!’

‘I’ve been
what
?’ This time she managed to bark it.

‘Chosen. Accepted! You’re one of us now. One of the Few!’

‘Not quite yet,’ murmured the first figure. ‘But soon.’

‘Cassie, I knew, didn’t I? Didn’t I tell you you’d be perfect? You’re chosen!’

She spoke through clenched teeth. ‘What if I don’t want to be chosen?’

A harsh voice broke in, scornful. ‘You offered yourself willingly. You attended a Congress to be interviewed.’

‘I never heard there was a vote. I wasn’t told.’

‘There was no vote.’ Richard sounded uncomfortable. ‘The proposal was vetoed from on high, so this Congress is … ah, an unofficial one. But you’ve been favoured by a very influential member of the Few. That’s more than enough.’

‘Despite any petty school rules,’ someone added.

Unofficial?
What was that supposed to mean?

‘And once you are Few, you will always be Few. There’s nothing Sir Alric can do about that.’

Cassie caught her breath. ‘You mean Sir Alric doesn’t
know
?’

‘You are very privileged.’ Another cool voice spoke from the circle. Again she couldn’t put a face to it. It was infuriating, but trying to work out their identities made her a little calmer. ‘Membership of the Few has never been a func—’

‘A function of scholarships,’ spat Cassie, trembling. ‘So what is their function, then?’

‘Once you are Few, you’ll know all there is to know. You won’t regret it.’

‘I get the feeling I will,’ muttered Cassie.

The first hooded figure nodded at someone behind her. Suddenly Cassie remembered Alice lying helpless, too weak even to cry, feet and fingers jerking as her veins stood out on her skin …

‘Richard,’ she whispered. Tears sprang to her eyes, and Cassie hated herself for looking so weak in front of the Few. ‘Don’t let them do this. Please. Whatever it is. Please.’

His fingers tightened on hers. ‘Cassie, darling! Hush! I know you’re scared. I was too!’

She stared at him, dumbstruck, then licked her lips. ‘This is what happened to you?’

‘Of course. It’s happened to all of us, Cassie. It’s not so bad. Hah!’ He laughed out loud. ‘
Not so bad?
Oh, it’s so much better than that!’

‘But I don’t want this!’ she screamed hoarsely.

‘That’s what I thought. I thought I didn’t want it, but wait till you feel it inside you! There’s nothing like it!’

‘
What the hell is IT?
’

He hesitated. ‘Don’t worry. Accept it! Enjoy it, darling!’

Don’t trust him
, Jake had said.
He’d use you, you know
that
. She gave another fierce jerk on her hands, though it took all her energy. Richard tutted and leaned closer to dab at the blood on her wrists. With as much effort as she could manage, she focused and spat.

Spot on. Right in the bastard’s eye. She smiled.

Wiping his cheekbone, Richard stepped sadly away.

‘She has no manners,’ drawled another, all-too-familiar voice. ‘None at all. I can’t think why—’

‘Now, Katerina. It is agreed.’

Painfully Cassie rolled her head round. Katerina wasn’t hooded either, and she was loving this, the cold-blooded cow. At the sound of footsteps, the chill of a draught from an opening door, Katerina turned.

The line of Few moved, parting as if letting someone enter, and when the circle closed again it had shrunk a little. Again they drew closer, then again. The ring was tightening like a noose. Cold terror gripped Cassie’s gut. Which one was Ranjit? Which of them had killed Jess?

She couldn’t see behind her, but she could feel the new presence. However she strained her neck, scraping her scalp on the stone, she couldn’t tilt her head far enough to find out who was there. Her breathing grew faster, and she tried not to whimper.
Don’t give them
the satisfaction
…

‘It’s time.’ Lifting the gold key from around her neck, the hooded girl unlocked the manacles, freeing Cassie’s hands. It didn’t do her any good. Straight away Richard and another of the Few took a wrist each, holding her as tightly as any chain, their fingers like steel.

‘Please,’ said Richard nervously. ‘Try to relax.’

Oh,
sure
.

Someone was loosening the chains on her feet, though they weren’t removed altogether. As soon as the tension was released, Richard and his colleague tugged her so that her head tipped off the end of the stone table, and her shoulders rested on the edge. Her neck hurt crazily now, but she could at last see the presence behind her, even if it was upside down. A thin, stooped figure, crooked with age. Upswept white hair, fragile porcelain skin, and a kind smile distorted by the angle.

Madame Azzedine.

The old woman sat in a gilded chair, her face close to Cassie’s. Her frail hands slipped under Cassie’s head to support it, easing the ache in her neck. Cassie stared up into the blue crinkled eyes, only inches away. The old woman seemed almost overcome with joy.

‘Thank you for this, Cassandra, my dear.’ Dry wrinkled thumbs stroked her temples. ‘I liked you the moment I met you, do you know that?’

‘No! What are you—’

‘Look at me, Cassandra. I’m old. I’ve had all from this body I could possibly have expected. It’s time for Madame Azzedine to … bow out. It’s time for me to take a new body. A young body.’

She smiled down lovingly at Cassie. ‘Your body.’

Frozen with terror, Cassie searched the woman’s face. Something moved behind those pale old eyes, and she couldn’t think why she hadn’t seen it before. Maybe she had. Something swirling, roiling. Whose eyes had done that too: boiled with life and an animal glow? Didn’t matter. Somehow she knew what was coming now. No way to stop it: only delay it. Talk.
Talk
.

‘What are you going to do when you’re finished with me?’ She breathed hard, smothering her fear with anger. ‘Shuck me off like an old snakeskin? Just like with Madame Azzedine?’

‘Come, come –’ she laughed that tinkling laugh, ‘I’ve had a long, good life. I’ve been strong, and powerful, and beautiful. You can expect the same! You have nothing to lose, Cassandra. Nothing.’

‘Except my soul!’ yelled Cassie. ‘Right? Except my
self
.’

She could no longer see any face but Madame Azzedine’s.

‘Now, Cassie. Do you think your friend Richard has lost himself? Ranjit, Ayeesha, Katerina? Do you think Sir Alric has lost himself?’ A girlish giggle. ‘Certainly not. We are still ourselves. We have given the spirits corporeal presence, that’s all. They have not overwhelmed us. They have
joined
us.’

‘Spirits?’ Cassie tried to breathe properly. Madame Azzedine’s scent was overwhelming, and the stone was painfully hard against her back.

‘Ancient spirits, so ancient,’ mused the old woman. ‘A new life with every generation. You cannot expect us to fade away and die for the convenience of a few mortals. Especially when those mortals have so much to gain.’

‘Like what?’ Terror was starting to choke her again. Who was talking to her? Madame Azzedine, or the thing inside her? Maybe even the old woman didn’t know any more. The wrinkled lips were closer to Cassie’s own now, the aged face dreamy.

‘Everything, scholarship girl.’ Katerina’s cold tone was merciless. ‘There is everything to gain! We hosts are not lost souls. The spirit merely adds its essence to our own.’

‘Spirit? Is it a demon or what?’

‘Don’t be so rude.’ The Swedish girl sounded more amused than Cassie would have thought possible. ‘With the
spirit
we are stronger, crueller, more ruthless. More beautiful. Better equipped for today’s world, in other words.’

‘You’re sick!’

‘No. Personally, I’ve never felt better. What would you like to be, Cassie, when you grow up?’ Katerina sniggered. ‘A prime minister? A president? Head of an international corporation? An A-list celebrity? Some of us are, you know. Though for you, perhaps we should talk D-list.’

‘
I want to be myself!
’

‘But you will be,’ soothed Madame Azzedine. ‘That and more.’

‘
No!
’

‘Too late, my dear.’

Dry lips fastened over hers, powerful, irresistible. The smell of death and perfume swept over her so that she almost gagged, but it was impossible to make a sound, let alone vomit. Cassie squirmed, waiting to feel what Alice had felt, waiting for the life to be sucked out of her. Did it hurt? It had looked as if it did. A tear trickled to her hairline. She tried one last time to struggle, but the grip on her wrists was too strong. From the circle of the Few came a low howl of collective excitement.

Then the worst bolt of pain yet shot through her head, her heart leaped in her chest like an animal trying to escape, and the whole world went blinding white.

And somebody, somewhere, screamed.