The Cross

Chapter Fifty-Two

The Ridings

‘He’ll want to see you right away,’ Zachary said to Ash when he stepped out into the night to greet the car on its return from the airfield. ‘Follow me.’

Ash said nothing as Zachary led him through the manor house, but he noticed that the place had filled up noticeably with visitors since his departure. Vampire visitors: they eyed him curiously as he passed by, some hungrily, licking their lips and nudging their companions with a chuckle.

He wasn’t afraid of them any more. When one of them got a touch too close and bared long white fangs at him, he held up the case and saw the sudden fear cloud the vampire’s face. That’s right. You know what’s in here, don’t you?

After that, nobody bothered Ash again. Even Zachary was nervous of the thing the human was carrying. He led Ash towards the sound of thundering piano music that was coming from the east wing. The playing ended abruptly in the middle of a crashing downward flurry of notes as Zachary knocked on the door and showed Ash inside the room.

Gabriel Stone was sitting at a gleaming black grand piano, glaring at the doorway, about to demand who could be so impertinent as to interrupt his virtuoso rendering of Franz Liszt’s Revolutionary etude (incorporating some of his own flourishes that the composer had been unable to get his fingers around) — then he saw Ash walk in, case in hand, and his expression changed.

‘It is done, then?’ he said.

Ash nodded. Gabriel leaped up from the piano stool and tentatively took the case from him. Grabbing a heavy chain from a nearby table, he triple-wrapped and padlocked it. Ash slipped the mini-camcorder from his pocket and offered it to him.

‘Let me be the first to witness the deeds of this historic day,’ Gabriel said, staring hungrily at the small, high-resolution screen. The annihilation of the VIA office, followed by Ash’s equally devastating tour of the Federation Headquarters in Brussels: Gabriel watched it all unfolding with a rapt expression. When it was over, he looked at Ash and nodded solemnly. ‘You have served me well, human. Come, now. Join our festivities. Everyone is waiting.’

With the hour of the party approaching, a hundred vampires assembled in the mansion’s huge dining room and their excited chatter filled the air as the confirmation of Gabriel’s victory spread. A glittering array of crystal decanters and carafes stood on the Chippendale sideboards, filled with blood: at last, and much to Lillith’s delight, Gabriel had given his consent for the human prisoners to be used for the purpose for which they’d been stored in the basement. The two ghouls, Sharon and Geoffrey Hopley, were limping squalidly around the room serving glasses from silver trays (the consensus among the vampires was that, for all Gabriel’s qualities, he was not the greatest judge of ghoul-flesh). Lillith had exchanged her favourite red leather jumpsuit for a beautiful black silk ball gown with a plunging neckline that drew dozens of admiring glances from around the room — but her glow of pride quickly turned to a scowl when Kali made her entrance wearing a shimmering white dress that wowed the crowd. Its magnificence upstaged Lillith’s in every way, the effect crowned by a glittering ruby necklace that had been a gift from a powerful Afghan warlord nine centuries earlier.

A murmur spread through the dining room as Gabriel strode in. He was immediately surrounded by vampires wanting to shake his hand and pat him on the back. He waved them all away graciously, pressed through the crowd and leaped up on a table clutching a crystal flute of blood, calling for silence. The room instantly fell to a hush.

‘My friends,’ he began, ‘words cannot express my joy in bringing you the news of this most momentous victory. The unspeakable filth that was the Federation need be spoken of no more, for it has been washed away. Save for a few scattered remnants, who will swiftly be rounded up and brought to justice, or persuaded to join us as we rebuild the glory that once was the vampire world, our enemy is finally … resoundingly … irreversibly … eternally obliterated: first the shameful spies and informants in London, swiftly followed by the tyrants in Brussels. Rejoice, one and all, and let us raise our glasses to this day when the shackles of oppression have at last been cast off!’

Wild applause ensued, a deafening chorus of cheers. Gabriel swallowed his blood in one gulp, dashed the empty glass in the fireplace and then waited for silence before continuing.

‘How curious that we should owe a large part of our victory to one who is not of our kind — that is to say, not yet. A toast, my friends, to Ash, soon to be graced with the highest honour we can bestow and inducted into our family circle. To Ash, our new brother in blood.’

More riotous applause as all eyes turned towards Ash, who was standing quietly at the back of the room, gazing down at his feet. Glasses clinked and were drained.

‘To Ash!’ a hundred voices clamoured in unison.

Gabriel paused to pluck a long Havana from his breast pocket, snatch a candlestick from the mantelpiece and light the cigar with its flame. He smiled through a cloud of smoke. ‘And now, my friends, as the modern saying goes … let’s party.’

The wild celebrations rocked the mansion, quickly spilling beyond the dining room to the gardens. Gallon after gallon of blood and wine and iced champagne were consumed, together with dainty finger-food prepared by the ghouls. Crowds gathered around the giant television screen that had been brought down from the master bedroom and set up at one end of the room to play, over and over again, the scenes of delicious destruction in London and Brussels.

Meanwhile, two of the human captives were set loose outside in the grounds and chased for sport. Lillith was the first to catch one — hiding in the gazebo — and gleefully slash its throat, splashing the front of her dress. One of the severed heads was tossed away across the moonlit lawn, where Baxter Burnett, having already overturned Jeremy Lonsdale’s golf buggy with a blood cocktail between his knees, was practising chipping balls into its open mouth.

‘We need now only await the return of Rolando, Petroc and Elspeth,’ Gabriel said to Zachary in the conservatory, ‘telling us that our old friend Alex Bishop has finally been eliminated. Part of me will be sorry to hear it,’ he sighed, ‘but she was given a choice. She could have joined us. Instead, she saw fit to stand with the enemy.’

‘Ash is coming,’ Zachary said, nodding past Gabriel’s shoulder. Gabriel turned as the human approached.

‘Hero of the hour,’ Gabriel said, placing a hand on his shoulder. ‘What can I offer you?’

‘My reward,’ Ash said.

‘Indeed, I made you a promise,’ Gabriel smiled. ‘And I am true to my word. You shall have it, the moment your mission is completed. For there is one more task you must perform before you may claim your prize.’

Lillith came bursting in from the garden, a blood-drunk Baxter Burnett staggering behind her. ‘Gabriel, we’re out of humans,’ she said. ‘Marcellus wants to know what to do with the icky bits?’

‘Toss them to the dogs,’ Gabriel said casually. ‘Sister, I was just telling our friend about the final phase of our plan. Ash, you will take the cross to Siberia, to the domain of — how shall I put it — some extremely important distant relations of ours. Only you can perform the final ceremony that will see the weapon encased in liquid lead and embedded in the ice wall of the Grand Hall of their citadel, where it will remain as their trophy.’

Ash nodded slowly. ‘And then?’

‘And then you will return here so that I may personally fulfil my pledge to you. You will at last become the thing you have so long desired to be.’

‘Siberia,’ Ash said. He thought about it. ‘I don’t know where to go.’

‘Lillith and Zachary shall escort you,’ Gabriel told him. Something caught his eye and he glared at Baxter. ‘What is that thing protruding from your pocket?’ he asked sharply, pointing.

‘Uh, this? Uh … just my vitamins,’ Baxter said, shoving the tube of pills back out of sight.

‘Vampires do not take vitamins,’ Gabriel said. ‘I know what they are. Give them to me at once, do you hear?’

Baxter handed them over sheepishly. Gabriel contemptuously tossed the Solazal packet to Zachary. ‘Dispose of this garbage, would you, please?’

‘Siberia?‘ Lillith said. She was about to explode in protest, but a glance from Gabriel silenced her.

‘Back to the uglies,’ Zachary sighed. ‘I’d seen enough of those motherfuckers to last me a while. We taking Lonsdale’s plane again?’

Gabriel shook his head. ‘It would be pushing our good fortune beyond the bounds of sense to overuse it, as the human police are bound to track it down sooner or later. I suggest we leave it where it is, where the Romanian officials will be a long time finding it. Our Solazal-swallowing friend Baxter’s mode of air transportation will be its replacement. No objections, I trust, Baxter?’

‘Uh … none, no,’ Baxter said hesitantly.

Gabriel rubbed his hands together. ‘Excellent. For my own part, I have decided to take a vacation. My problem has been deciding where — after all these centuries, there is scarcely a corner of this world with which I am not already familiar to the point of utter tedium. I could have made use of the Tuscan villa vacated by our late ghoul Jeremy Lonsdale, but Italy bores me. Now, Switzerland, on the other hand … it has been a good eighty years since my last visit.’ He flashed a knowing smile at Baxter.

‘How did you know I had a place in Switzerland?’ Baxter asked with a frown.

‘Thank my Minister of Information,’ Gabriel said, motioning to Zachary. ‘The interweb may have its uses after all. Your amorous exploits at the hunting lodge, exactly nine and a half miles north-east of Zermatt, have been well documented in the human media. A most admirable location, Baxter. Fine views across the mountain valley; accessible only by its own private cable car; secluded, yet not too distant from the local villages where one can be assured of a ready meal.’

‘I don’t exactly let the place out,’ Baxter said, reddening.

‘Then I should be all the more honoured to make use of it for a while,’ Gabriel told him. ‘Naturally, I shall also require from you a certain quantity of spending money. What with all these bribes we have been compelled to pay to greedy customs officials and petty bureaucrats in order to pass unobserved from place to place, our coffers are rapidly running empty. And as you must know, Switzerland is not the least expensive of places for a personage of taste.’

Baxter was almost choking with outrage.

‘I knew I could count on you,’ Gabriel said, beaming. ‘Shall we say, ten million euros in cash? To start with.’