A Dance in Blood Velvet (20 page)

The top landing lay in sepia half-light under one dim electric bulb. The attic door was a lightless rectangle. Ben moved softly to the threshold, staring at a white wrist and hand that stretched out towards him. A skeleton hand.

“Don’t go too close,” Andreas whispered. “If it smells your blood...”

Not replying, Ben stared into the darkness.

The temple was ruined, four panels shattered so he could see into the shell. Luminous shapes hung on the blackness; he counted six. None were inside the temple itself; they were out in the attic, lying motionless as if the effort of crawling that far had exhausted them. With one at his feet and another on the stairs, that made eight... was that all? Might there be others he couldn’t see?

The air shivered in a ghost-wind. Compelled to close his eyes, he found himself gazing up into a blizzard-racked firmament.

Ben understood. He was seeing into the astral world. The vast skyscape always turned him giddy with awe. There were mountains above him, split by gaping chasms, distant peaks towering into violet infinity. A dark, shifting world, lit by gleams of fire. An appalling coldness sifted down... a dull copper-red light suffused everything, unearthly and baleful...

This is my fault,
he thought.
I tore a rift between the Earth and Raqia and I didn’t seal it properly! What did I do wrong? I failed to end the summoning... or it went on after I’d stopped, like radio waves on the ether.

“What are you doing?” Andreas said urgently, as anxious as any human.

“Hush!” said Ben. “Don’t interrupt me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, held out his arms stiffly. He let his mind blend with Raqia, and then, with all his might, he willed the beings back into their own realm and the rift to heal.

Dangerous to do this cold, with no preparation. He felt himself falling, thrown into a chasm.
Freezing... ahhh...
And then he came back to himself and saw nothing behind his eyelids except dull red starbusts.

He reached for the door frame to steady himself, opened his eyes and stared into the attic. He saw roof-struts, shadows, the temple shell...

The pallid figures still gleamed in the darkness. He’d failed to banish them. There were too many and he lacked the strength. Shaking, he leaned against the wall, whispering, “Oh, God.”

The next he knew, Andreas seized his arm and cried, “
Vorsicht!”

Ben saw the corpse in the doorway rise up in a pale loop. Andreas hauled him out of the way just as it struck. He heard a soft thump as it landed headlong on the floorboards, felt its fingernails scratching at his ankle. Feeble yet hideously cold and grasping.

Ben snatched his foot out of its reach. “Christ!” he exclaimed, pressing back against Andreas; forgetting that he had the same hungers.

He saw Andreas’s white face from the corner of his eye, felt the chill of his skin. Horrified, he pulled himself free. He was trembling uncontrollably. The attacker now lay rigid and blankeyed, as if it had spent all its energy in that one leap.

Enough,
he told himself.
I’m behaving like a slave to this situation and I must become its master. What would Lancelyn do?

“You are in danger if you stay here,” said Andreas.

“I am gratified that you care.”

The vampire shrugged.

Ben said, “But how dangerous are they? Can you remember how it felt when you were - like that?”

The black eyes gleamed angrily.
“Ja, leider.
”

“Well?”

“It was extremely unpleasant. I don’t know how to describe it. Have you ever woken in the night with a dead arm, having slept on it?”

“Yes.”

“Imagine feeling that all over, but worse. Your body is dead but your mind is awake and confused. You have no memory, only fear. And then excruciating pain, as feeling comes back to your limb?” Ben nodded. “That’s how I felt when I smelled your blood. A stinging fire like pins all over me. Jumping at you was a reflex. But when I failed and fell back to the ground, the numbness returned.”

“So, you believe these creatures are suffering?”

“Yes, that is a safe assumption,” the vampire replied acidly.

“But unless they’re provoked by the smell of blood, they are helpless? Well, I shall lock them in the attic.”

“They will sense humans in the house. Despair may make them stronger. They’ll break out; a locked door won’t stop them.”

“Well, what will?” Ben said through his teeth.

He stepped cautiously over his attacker towards the attic. Inside, the others sent up an eerie groan that went through him like a chorus of damned souls.

In the gloom, an oblong block caught his eye, lying in the centre of the ten-pointed white star. Of course! The Book! He’d been too occupied with Andreas to think of it. No vampires were near it. In fact, they were pressing towards the walls as if it repelled them.

Ben moved slowly towards the wrecked temple, shoes crunching on broken glass. The dormant vampires looked pitiful, like shrivelled pupal cases. One or two twitched as he passed, and he began to sweat. Hardly daring to breathe, he crossed the white lines of the star and reached down to the Book.

As he made his way back, a vampire reared like an albino cobra and lunged. Benedict flung up the Book like a shield. The vampire swerved away and collapsed to the floor, uttering faint, piercing wails.

Ben fled through the door.

Hugging the Book to his pounding chest, he pointed to the creature by his feet and its fellow on the stairs. “Help me get them back inside.”

“What?” said Andreas, recoiling. “I’m in as much danger as you! What do you think I can do? I don’t know who they are. You’ve no idea what you’re doing!”

Ben lost his temper. “Just help me, damn it!”

Resentfully, Andreas obeyed. How cold the two bodies felt to Ben’s touch, peculiarly weightless yet rigid, like pumice. The one on the stairs lashed out, but Ben pushed its hand away with the Book and it shrank back. Shutting his mind to revulsion, Ben helped Andreas to haul them inside the attic.

He shut and locked the door, wiped sweat from his face.

“You’re insane,” Andreas muttered.

“This Book,” said Ben, holding the volume towards him. “Any idea what it is?”

“A Bible?” Andreas drew away, folding his arms. “Take it away, it stinks of damp.”

“Please, look.” Ben opened the thick cover and turned the yellowing pages. “Can you understand it?”

“No. It might as well be written in Chinese.” He turned away. “What do you want me to say? Get rid of it!”

“Why are you frightened?”

“I don’t know. For God’s sake, let me go downstairs, I -”

“Stay where you are. Answer me. I made you swear an oath on this Book and you recoiled as if it were on fire. Why?”

“It makes me feel cold and sick. It’s disgusting. It saps my strength.”

Ben closed the Book and took it out of Andreas’s reach. “It’s all right, you’ve told me enough. This Book has power over your kind. Logically, then, if I place it against the door, the others won’t be able to come past it. Agreed?”

“Why ask me?” Andreas said thinly. “Some vampires are superstitious, but I never was. I don’t believe in the power of artefacts to repel or control us. So, if I think the Book is evil - or holy, or whatever - it merely indicates that I’ve lost my mind. You had better be careful, my friend.”

Ben leaned the Book against the door. Inside, there was silence. Sighing, he straightened up and gingerly touched Andreas’s shoulder. “Come downstairs. We must talk.”

Holly was waiting anxiously in the hall. Seeing Ben, all her feelings gathered in her face. Questions, and a desperate relief that she was too angry to express. Wordlessly, Ben took her arm and led her into the parlour.

“Everything’s under control,” he said. “They’re safely imprisoned in the attic.”

“You mean you didn’t banish them?” She turned away, tightlipped, and fetched a decanter and glasses from the sideboard. “Brandy?”

“Yes, please. God, I need it.”

“And your friend?”

Andreas sank down on the floor against a wall, knees drawn up to his chin. The hat hid his face. Ben didn’t suggest he remove it; the pale gaunt skill was an ugly sight, and he didn’t want to give Holly any more shocks.

Ben said, “I don’t think he -”

Andreas looked up. “Forgive my bad manners,
Gnädige Frau.
We have not been properly introduced. I am Andreas.”

“Holly Grey,” she said, her eyes opening wide.

“I am delighted to meet you,” Andreas said with hollow courtesy. He lowered his head, and withdrew into silence.

Holly glared at Ben. “Are you going to explain this to me?”

Ben coaxed the fading fire to a blaze, then, shivering with cold and delayed shock, he flopped gratefully onto the sofa and pulled Holly down beside him. They sat in silence for a few moments, sipping brandy from balloon glasses. How deceptively cosy and normal the parlour seemed; firelight glowing on creamy walls and on the dark polished furniture. A paper fortress.

“I didn’t mean to put you in danger,” said Ben. “You should have stayed away.”

“How could I? I knew you were doing something wrong! Why?”

The tension of the night dissipated, and the brandy made him heavy-headed. He felt suddenly depressed. “You’ve read Deirdre’s letter, haven’t you? She posted it just before she -”

“Yes.”

“Do you believe her?”

Holly lowered her head, pressed knuckles to her forehead. “No. Yes.”

“Lancelyn and I are at war. It’s been building for a long time, only we wouldn’t admit it. I can’t let him go on like this, but when I try to stop him I have to be prepared for a counter-attack. That’s why I performed the summoning rite again.”

“You promised you wouldn’t,” she said. “You promised!”

Unable to deny it, he continued evenly, “A creature materialised, as before. It was Andreas. I wasn’t expecting the others; the summoning must have been more powerful than I realised. I sealed the rift, but I can’t send them back.”

“But what are they? They give out no aura. They’re like corpses - yet they can move and cry out! Most horrible thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I wish you’d stayed away. Gods, you might have been killed!”

“But what business had you, messing with something so dangerous?” she said furiously. “They’re not good or protective spirits, are they? Were you trying to raise the dead? Because that’s what you’ve done!”

Ben found it difficult to defend himself when he couldn’t even answer her questions. No good dressing up excuses in esoteric language; Holly would never fall for it. He asked quietly, “Andreas, what would you call yourself?”

“A vampire,
natürlich,”
Andreas said flatly, “unless you want to be poetic. We are Lamiae, Children of Lilith. Immortals.”

Holly said, “And were you like the others, when you first came through?”

Andreas did not reply. Ben answered, “Yes.”

“But he can walk and talk now. How?”

“I took him out to feed and he’s a little stronger,” Benedict said uncomfortably.

“And he fed on -” she whispered.

“Human blood.”

“Ah,” she said. “I just wanted to be sure.” She poured more brandy with a shaking hand. Her face was grey. Silence fell, thick with tension.

Ben thought he heard Andreas murmur, “Christian.”

He leaned forward. “Do you fear the symbols of Christianity?”

“What?” Andreas looked up irritably.

“We are not exactly what you’d call regular church-goers.”

Sarcastic amazement glittered in the dark eyes.
Extraordinary eyes
, Ben thought.

“No? I would never have guessed. No, it’s a man’s name, Kristian, with a K. He was the Devil. I wonder where he is? What year is this?”

Ben told him. He saw Andreas’s hands tremble, almost saw his mind recoil behind his eyes. “All those years!”

“Who was he?” Ben ventured.

“Enough! I can’t tell humans these things! How can I remember, if you won’t leave me in peace to think?” He pointed at the ceiling, his coat sleeve falling to reveal his thin white wrist. “You called the Crystal Ring up there! No human can touch it, they shouldn’t even know it exists - yet you called it, and then you’re surprised there are vampires everywhere! You don’t even know what I’m talking about, do you?”

Muttering viciously in German, Andreas leapt up and marched towards the door.

“Please,” said Ben, “tell me about the Crystal Ring. If you help me, I’ll help you. You’re alive because of me. You must do my bidding.”

“Pompous idiot,” Andreas snarled. He paused, added, “I have to obey, because you have this power I don’t understand. I wish you’d leave me the hell alone to think.”

“Very well. Sit down and I’ll leave you in peace. But you’ll tell me eventually.”

The vampire sank into an armchair, uncannily motionless in his reverie. Ben was stunned by his apparent mental anguish. Who would think that an evil, undead creature could feel fear, confusion, or grief? Andreas puzzled him deeply. He’d expected an astral being, good or evil, to be a fount of higher wisdom. This man, though clearly supernatural, was strangely human in his weakness.

“So,” said Holly, “we have an attic full of the undead, all starving for blood. What are your plans for these... vampires? To send them against Lancelyn?”

“They’re for self-defence only.”

“But what if Lancelyn attacks us? Would you actually let them kill him?”

“No! I don’t want that!” Holly’s questions exasperated Ben. Of course he must address them, but he wanted to do so in his own time. “I intend to render him powerless. Too scared to practise magic or threaten us, ever again.”

“But this is dangerous. You can’t guarantee he won’t be hurt.”

“If he is, he asked for it! What about James and Deirdre? What compassion did he show them? Holly, please!” He so rarely raised his voice to her... foreboding struck him. It had never occurred to him that this might damage their marriage, along with everything else. “I have to work this out for myself.”

“No. You involve me when it suits you, but when difficulties arise, you shut me out. I’ve known Lancelyn longer than you, and I can’t stand this ill-feeling. I don’t believe he’s guilty, but even if he is, I can’t turn against him.”