The Demi-Monde: Summer (35 page)

Love, Doge IMmanual decided, was a torturing, tearful thing, so much so that it prevented her sleeping. She took another sip of her Solution, hoping that it might quieten the chiding, bickering voice inside her head, the carping voice that relentlessly nagged at her, spoiling her peace, her sleep and her certainty.

Nag, nag, nag …

And the name that the voice murmured over and over and over was Vanka Maykov. The man she had loved …
still
loved, if the voice was to be believed.

Yes, love spoilt everything. Love was an irrational thing, a giddy nonsense that corrupted the will. She would have none of it: there was no place for love in the chill perfection of the world she would create. Love was for the weak. Worse, love was an irredeemably
human
infirmity, and those who followed her would be
super
human. She would breed love out of the world.

But …

But try as she might – and she had tried mighty hard – she couldn’t still that persistent voice that constantly reminded her of Vanka’s touch, of the feel of his lips on hers, of the strength of his arms around her, of …

Angrily she shook her head in a vain attempt to drive away
these delinquent thoughts. She was Lilith, a goddess! And goddesses were not prey to the weakness of flesh that befuddled and beguiled lesser beings. She glanced despairingly at her tousled bed. There would be no more sleep for her tonight, her vocal and oh-so-determined conscience would see to that.

A wry laugh. Conscience? She had no conscience; she was Lilith and Lilith was beyond doubt or remorse. Lilith was as hard, as implacable and as remorseless as tomorrow. More, she
was
tomorrow – she was HumanKind’s destiny – and no seductive suggestions of love would stay her hand. And soon she would prove that implacability by making a blood sacrifice of her brother.

On Lammas Eve, less than fifty days hence, she would sacrifice him so that the Lilithi might rise again. Not that Billy would be any great loss to the world. She had always known he was possessed – excellent word that – of devils, but she had never suspected they were so all-consuming: he was undoubtedly a Dark Charismatic, his very presence a threat to her. She knew that the religious leaders of NoirVille, despite their protestations of fealty, would much rather have a male Messiah than a female one.

She walked across to the tall dressing mirror standing by the wardrobe, and, taking a deep breath, studied her mirror image. It was the perfect representation of her duality: she and Ella identical, yet warped through ninety degrees. The same but oh so different.

The sad, almond-shaped eyes of her reflection studied her with equal interest, the eyes so black that it was easy for her to imagine herself falling, tumbling down into their noired nothingness.

Beautiful
, whispered the voice, reminding her that Vanka had always considered her the most beautiful of women, and Vanka, of course, was an expert when it came to beautiful women.
Hadn’t he had more of them than any man had a right to? But even with all these women at his beck and call, he had preferred Ella to every other. Vanka had loved her.

Enough!

What was love anyway? Nothing but a crude
mélange
of pheromones and hormones cocktailed together to make the heavy encumbrance of breeding possible.

No
, said the voice, as it conjured thoughts of Vanka Maykov.
Don’t you remember
, urged the voice,
that love is something sublime … wonderful … the merging of two souls?

She stamped her foot petulantly on the marble floor and rubbed her fingers hard into her temples, trying to erase the hectoring voice as it scolded her for betraying the man … for deserting him … for conniving to destroy him.

And, as she stood alone and desolate before the mirror, she saw a single tear course its silent, sorrowful way down her cheek.

Love
….

Love, she realised, was a torturing, tearful thing … and very tenacious.

These maudlin thoughts were interrupted by a frantic de Sade barging into her room. ‘Your Majesty … Selim has had Lady Isabella, the daughter of Duke Pietro Gradenigo, brought to his chambers—’

When Billy received the message from Selim suggesting that he might welcome some ‘diversion’ that night, he ignored the ridiculously late hour, patted the girl he was with – he thought her name might be Marcella or something – on the ass, pulled his pants on and scuttled off down the corridors of the Palace to Selim’s chambers. The scenes Selim put on in his private – and soundproof – suite of rooms were always worth the price of admission.

Billy liked Selim. He liked him because he liked doing the things that Billy liked doing … especially getting cruel. Billy liked getting cruel.

Ever since he had been a boy, Billy had enjoyed torturing things. He’d tormented cats, mutilated dogs and blown frogs to hell and back by strapping them to firecrackers. Torturing animals had given him a real buzz, made him feel powerful and given him a hard-on. And when he’d got older he’d turned his lust for cruelty towards the women in his life. Billy liked hurting women … just like Selim did. As far as cruelty was concerned, Selim was a real bastard. Just like Billy.

But when he got to Selim’s chambers, he found himself a little disappointed. There was just Selim waiting for him and none of the girls the Grand Vizier could usually be relied on to provide for entertainment.

‘Good evening, Your Grace,’ oozed Selim, as he motioned Billy to a seat on a couch and served him a glass of cognac. ‘I am so pleased you were able to honour me with your presence.’

‘So what’s going down, man?’ Billy waved a hand around the empty room. ‘Where’s the action?’

‘In a moment, Your Grace, I have an experiment planned for this evening which, I think, you will find most amusing.’

‘Amusing?’ asked Billy a little petulantly: ‘amusing’ seemed a shitty substitute for the scene he’d been planning with the girl he’d left warming his bed. Getting down and dirty with Marcella seemed a much better way of whiling away a night than shooting the breeze with Selim.

The Grand Vizier seemed unperturbed by his indifference. ‘You may remember from one of our previous conversations that I advised you the effects of imbibing large quantities of Dizzi had never been fully explored. This is especially the case with a new, improved version of the drug which has just been delivered to me … a version boasting a greater purity and hence
a greater potency.’ He placed a large silver bowl full to the brim with the blue powder on the side table at Billy’s elbow. ‘It is for this reason that I have organised an experiment to establish just what effect an excessive dose of this new Dizzi has on the human body.’

Billy watched Selim pour four heaped tablespoonfuls of the blue powder into a glass of Solution and then stir the mixture until the powder had dissolved. ‘I am told the maximum amount of this improved Dizzi you should ever indulge in over the course of an evening is a tablespoonful; over that – say,
four
tablespoonfuls – and the effects are … unpredictable.’

Billy eyed the glass warily, wondering if Selim was suggesting that he should drink it.

Fuck that!

‘So what? I ain’t gonna be working as no guinea pig.’

‘Ah, once again you show your perspicacity, Your Grace. For an experiment to be conducted we do indeed need a guinea pig.’

Selim tugged on a bell rope hanging next to his chair and immediately two Shade guards entered the room with an angry-looking Lady Isabella pinioned between them.

‘Boo-yah’ was all an excited Billy could say.

De Sade didn’t think he had ever seen Doge IMmanual so angry. Her face was red with rage and she was almost running along the corridor that led to Selim’s chamber. And such was her impatience to confront her brother that she had refused de Sade the opportunity to order an escort.

‘My Doge,’ he gasped – running wasn’t really his strong suit – ‘I think it would be advisable that before you confront Duke William I have the Signori di Notte—’

‘I can’t believe that even Billy is stupid enough to flout my orders in such a disdainful way.’ The Doge wasn’t listening, too
distracted by the thought of Duke William raping Lady Isabella to pay any attention to de Sade. ‘He must be mad!’

De Sade almost laughed: Duke William
was
mad. De Sade, better than anyone, knew what it was to be intoxicated by the inflicting of pain, but even he understood the need for restraint. Certain of the more outré appetites needed to be satisfied in private, otherwise the natives became restless, but Duke William was a stranger to moderation, though by the look of the Doge’s face tonight she was determined to effect an introduction … a very painful introduction.

‘When I get my hands on—’ The Doge stopped abruptly and stood for a moment stock-still in the middle of the corridor. All the colour had faded from her face and she looked as though she was about to faint.

‘Are you unwell, my Doge? You seem—’

The observation was cut short when Doge IMmanual staggered and had to put an arm up against the wall to stop herself falling.

‘My Doge?’ There was real anxiety in de Sade’s voice. He had never seen the Doge exhibit weakness before and it was very worrying. If she was to die then his days were numbered, there were a lot of people who would come seeking revenge for the slights de Sade had visited on them since he had become First Prelate.

Thankfully, after resting for a few seconds the Doge pushed herself away from the wall, and waved away his concerns. ‘It’s nothing, de Sade. I have sensed the presence of one of my enemies in the Nothingness. Josephine Baker in her guise of the WhoDoo mambo JoJo is challenging me. Ridiculous! The audacity of the girl to imagine that her trivial tinkerings with the Nothingness could disturb Lilith!’ She smiled at de Sade. ‘The problem is that even a trivial assault such as hers requires me to use part of my strength to repel her.’

‘Perhaps you should rest, my Doge?’

‘No,’ she said firmly as she took de Sade’s arm and once again began to walk towards Selim’s chambers, ‘I have no time for weakness. All is well and we must concentrate on the more urgent task of controlling my delinquent brother.’

Lady Isabella seemed to have dressed on the run; her long blonde hair cascaded untidily about her shoulders and she didn’t seem to have had a chance to fix her make-up. But she still looked great; she was a real dime, being tall and slim and blonde and built, and Billy wanted to fuck her – and other things – so bad he could taste it. He also wanted to wipe that contemptuous, high-class, my-shit-don’t-smell look she had off her perfect face. The more Billy looked at her, the more he wanted her … wanted to finish what he had started four nights ago in the Piazza San Marco. He owed her big time for the grief she’d caused him with his sister.

‘Grand Vizier Selim! I might have known you would be behind this outrage. When my father discovers that I have been brought by force to the Palace, he will ensure that your head rolls. Don’t you realise that I am the daughter of Duke Gradenigo?’

Her protests had no effect on Selim, he simply lounged against a table, idly smoking a cigarette. ‘I am fully aware who you are, Lady Isabella, it is
what
you are that is of interest to those, like me, who are responsible for the security of the state and the safety of our beloved Doge IMmanual.’

That gave the girl pause. ‘But … but I have done nothing wrong.’

‘Oh, come now, Lady Isabella, do not insult my intelligence or that of Duke William here.’

For the first time the girl noticed Billy and her eyes widened with fear. Billy liked that. He liked it when girls were frightened of him.

‘What is he doing here?’ she said in a trembling voice.

‘His Grace stands as his sister’s proxy. He is mindful of the contretemps of a few evenings ago and wishes to remedy those misunderstandings. He wishes to be your friend.’

‘I have no need of a friend such as him!’

‘Oh, but you do. You are a self-confessed UnFunDaMentalist and as this is the religion espoused by the ForthRight which is at war with Venice, your beliefs condemn you as a traitor to Venice.’

‘You have no right—’

Selim tossed a package of papers onto the table in front of the girl. ‘This is the
lettre de cachet
authorising your arrest for activities against the state. And before you protest further I should tell you that your arrest is perfectly legal. As commander of the HimPis stationed in Venice I have the power to do everything and anything necessary to protect the Doge.’

Everything and anything
. Billy ran his tongue over his dry lips and then took a long gulp of cognac. It might not be a wasted night after all.

‘But my father has made his loyalty to Doge IMmanual perfectly clear.’

‘Doge IMmanual is the personification of IMmanualism: by rejecting her religion you and your father have rejected
her
. But, Lady Isabella, you are most fortunate in that Duke William is inclined to be lenient with regard to this matter. In view of your youth and your undoubted piety he is willing to overturn this
lettre de cachet
in exchange for one simple act: you must join him in making a toast to Her Majesty Doge IMmanual, swearing allegiance to her.’ He pushed the glass of Solution containing the Dizzi across the table towards the girl.

Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘That’s all? You brought me here for
this?’

‘You must indulge me, Lady Isabella … or rather your friend here. Duke William believes that a girl as virtuous and as beautiful as you cannot have treachery in her heart. He merely asks that you demonstrate your good intent.’

‘Your methods of arranging an assignation are decidedly unorthodox, Grand Vizier, but as I am a loyal Venetian it would be churlish of me to refuse to drink in the Doge’s honour.’ The girl picked up the glass and drained it. ‘And now, Grand Vizier, I would be grateful if you would have your minions escort me back to my home.’ She glanced nervously towards Billy. ‘In recent days the streets of Venice have become unsafe for young women to wander at night.’ Selim ignored her and instead turned to speak to Billy but Lady Isabella wasn’t of a mind to be ignored. ‘I have spoken to you, Grand Vizier, and made a request to be taken home.’