Uprising

Chapter Thirty-One

Greg felt an enormous hand press into his back and shove him forward. He could see enough through the black hood over his head to know that he was in a dark place, like some kind of tunnel or cellar. His captors had shoved and prodded him a long way through corridors and down steps after they’d hauled him out of the car. If they were inside a house, it was a big one.

From the echo of the footsteps ringing off stone walls, he figured there were two of them marching him along, one big and heavy, the other light on his feet, like a fox.

The two male vampires from the London Eye.

‘Move your ass faster,’ the big one said in his impossibly deep bass.

‘We should have just finished this bastard back in London.’ His companion sounded agitated with fury. ‘He’s the one who did for Petra.’

‘Uh-uh. Gabriel wants him.’

‘What for?’

‘You know Gabriel. Didn’t say.’

For an instant Greg thought about lashing out behind him with his foot. He might get lucky. If he could get the element of surprise, if he could somehow shake off the hood, he still could have a chance of getting out of it.

But he knew there were too many ifs in that sentence. He kept walking, his mind working furiously. Why were vampires fighting vampires? And who was Gabriel?

A huge hand grabbed his arm and jerked him to a halt. A moment’s pause, then he heard the creak of a heavy door. Down more steps, and the echoes intensified. He could see patches of light through the material of the hood.

‘Take it off him,’ the deep voice said, and the hood was ripped away.

Greg blinked. They were standing at the bottom of a murky passage facing an ancient studded door. Burning torches flanked the arched stone entrance.

He glanced at his captors in the firelight and saw his guess had been right about the big guy. The giant had to keep his head bowed as he stepped forward and turned the iron handle. The door swung open and Greg was shoved through.

He looked around him at the shadowy, sumptuous room in which he found himself. The air was rich with the tang of candles, and their glow shone across gilt furnishings and red velvet. Snarling ebony tigers loomed out of the shadows from the ornate carved fireplace. The walls were covered with age-worn tapestries depicting battle scenes from a period of history that he could only guess was beyond ancient.

‘Second-century Carpathia,’ said a voice. Its tone was smooth, almost musical.

Greg turned to see a man standing in the shadows behind the flickering candelabras.

‘Magnificent, aren’t they?’ the man said.

‘Who are you?’

The man stepped forward into the candlelight. He was tall, but not brutish like his men. He exuded an air of aristocratic grace, regal, utterly relaxed and self-assured.

‘My name is Stone. Gabriel Stone. Welcome to my little retreat.’ The smile on his lips was warm. ‘Do you like it? Speaking as one vampire to another.’

Greg didn’t reply. Glancing around him, he could see the items his captors had taken from him earlier laid out on a table a few feet away. His weapon, stripped and unloaded of its Nosferol rounds. His VIA ID, his phone. The pouch containing his Solazal pills and his blood surrogate food supply lay unzipped, its contents spilled across the table’s leather top.

Following Greg’s gaze, Stone walked over to the table. He picked up the VIA ID

wallet and flipped it open, running his eye over the laminated card printed with Greg’s name, his turn date and the bold red letter ‘P’ that denoted his probationary status.

‘Just a baby,’ Stone chuckled. ‘So fresh I can still smell human on you.’ He flipped the wallet shut and tossed it down on the table. ‘I almost feel sympathy for you, Agent Shriver.’

Greg stared at him. ‘Why am I here?’

Stone smiled. ‘Have a seat, Greg. May I call you Greg?’

‘I prefer to stand.’

‘As you wish.’ Stone settled elegantly into a plush armchair before reaching for a decanter and pouring a measure of sparkling red juice into a crystal tumbler. ‘Care for a drink? Oh, I’m sorry. You’re still on the surrogate stuff they give you.’ He took a sip of the blood, then reclined in the armchair and looked long and hard at Greg. ‘You really have no idea of the kind of organisation you’ve joined, do you? All you know is what you’ve been told by your colleague, Agent Bishop.’

‘You know her?’ Greg said, surprised.

‘I know all about her,’ Stone replied. ‘She’s made quite a reputation for herself.

Shame, because she’ll be destroyed. Every one of them will, and soon.’

‘Why do you hate the Federation so much, Stone?’

‘The Federation,’ Stone echoed with a shake of the head. ‘Even after all these years, it’s astounding to me that this obscene gang of despots had the temerity to call themselves a vampire federation, as though it truly had the collective interests of all our race at heart — as though it had been created by unanimous consensus. The truth is, your precious Federation is no more than a crude dictatorship that simply stormed in and took what it wanted by force. It never tried to win the hearts and minds of the vampire race. It doesn’t have our blessing. And it will be obliterated.’

‘By you?’

Stone gave a thin smile. ‘I’ve been a vampire for a very long time, Greg. I remember the way it once was. A time when humans lived in fear of us, a time when we truly ruled. Look at the vampire race now. A hunted minority, lurking in shadows like rats in holes. The price of four thousand years of apathy and complacency, during which time we allowed the tables slowly to turn on us. Before we knew it, the humans were out of control. They were too many, too powerful and too organised. It’s time for a change.’

‘The Federation is that change,’ Greg said.

‘The Federation is a craven betrayal of everything our race once stood for,’ Stone said angrily. ‘It imposes heresy under the guise of order. It wilfully denies vampires their heritage. It perverts tradition. Don’t be fooled by them, Greg. They are the cancer, not the cure. They are evil.’ He smiled, his anger fading as quickly as it had risen up.

‘You know, there are still options open to you. Your friends haven’t completely brainwashed you. Not yet.’

‘I get it. This is a recruitment drive. I should be honoured.’

‘You should certainly have a think about it. It’s very generous of me to be willing to overlook the fact that you and your associates murdered two of my brethren this evening. And I don’t open my door to just anyone.’

‘You want people inside VIA.’

‘I already have people inside VIA, and a host of operatives working across the globe to further our plans. But I could always use more.’

‘I wouldn’t come over to you, Stone. Not in a thousand years. Stick it up your ass.’

‘A thousand years is a long time,’ Stone said. ‘I ought to know.’ He shrugged.

‘Fine. Have it your way. You’re going to deliver a message for me.’

‘I think you’re getting old, Stone. Your hearing is gone. Didn’t I just say you could stick your offer up your ass?’

‘I heard you fine,’ Stone said. ‘Then it’s adieu, Agent Shriver.’

‘A-what?’

‘Adieu. It’s French for “see you in hell”.’

‘I’ll be seeing you there, all right.’

Stone laughed. ‘You’ll be waiting a long time.’

Before Greg could say another word, he felt a presence coming up behind him and half-turned to see the big vampire stepping up fast. The fist lashed out of nowhere, and everything went dark.