Lady of the Shades (12 page)

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Authors: Darren Shan

BOOK: Lady of the Shades
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‘Hello?’ Her voice is low, trembling, pained.

‘It’s me.’

A long silence. ‘I didn’t think you were going to call.’ She sounds like she’s been crying.

‘I almost didn’t. I’m leaving tomorrow, going home to Montana.’

‘Oh,’ she says emotionlessly.

‘Is that all you can say?’ I snap.

She sighs. ‘I’m tired, Ed.’

‘What sort of an answer is that? For Christ’s sake, I’m leaving! You’ll never see me again, and all you can say –’

There’s a click. Staring at the phone, I realize she’s cut me off. My initial reaction is to hurl it away and let her go hang. Then I consider the way she spoke, the tremble in her
voice. Something’s wrong. Redialling, I walk to the window and gaze out at the quiet road, letting the calm of the external world wash through me. ‘I’m sorry,’ I mutter when
she answers. ‘I didn’t mean to get angry. I’m upset. Not thinking straight.’

‘That makes two of us,’ she half laughs, then chokes back a sob. ‘Are you really leaving?’

‘Unless you can convince me to stay.’

‘I don’t want you to go,’ she says in a monotone. ‘But as for convincing you . . . ’ I sense her shrugging. ‘I can’t think of anything to say that would
keep you.’

‘Why did you stand me up?’

‘It’s a long story.’

‘Has it got something to do with Joe?’

‘Joe?’ She sounds confused.

‘You’re avoiding him. Every time I set up a meeting, you . . . ’

Sardonic laughter cuts me short. ‘It has nothing to do with
Joe
,’ she sneers. ‘Your friend was the last thing on my mind.’

‘So why didn’t you show?’

She pauses, then whispers, ‘I love you.’ That’s followed by tears. ‘I have to hang up now.’

‘Andeanna! No!’

‘Goodbye, Ed. I’ll read your new book when it comes out. I’m sure it will be –’

‘I’m coming to see you.’

‘No!’ she gasps. ‘You mustn’t, it isn’t safe.’

‘I don’t care. I’m coming.’

‘I won’t let you in. I’ll keep the gate locked. I’ll summon Mikis.’

‘That won’t stop me. I’m not leaving until I find out what happened. If I have to go through the Turk to get to you, I will.’

She moans, then sniffles. ‘You’re being a damn fool, but OK, come if you must. Wait until you see the gate open and a car leaving. Axel’s on duty tonight. I think I can
persuade him to pop out, like when you came before. But if he won’t go – if you don’t see a car pulling out – promise me you won’t come in.’

‘I can’t. I’ve got to see you.’

‘If you don’t promise, I’ll be gone when you get here.’

I rest the phone against my forehead, then lower it and answer in as controlled a tone as possible, ‘OK. I promise.’

‘If you break your word, it’s over between us.’

‘You know me better than that.’

‘Yes. I do. See you soon. I hope.’

I park fifty yards from the turn-off to the mansion. It’s a clear night. I can’t fail to spot any exiting vehicles from here. Switching off the lights and crouching
low, I keep vigil.

An hour passes. Two. Three. Patience has always been one of my virtues. I’ve sometimes spent a week shadowing people, sitting quietly in hotel rooms or cars, watching, waiting. I was never
nervous then, but I am now. My hands are shaking.

Finally, close to one in the morning, the gates open and a car emerges. I throw myself sideways before the driver completes his turn. He passes by moments later, picking up speed, engine loud in
the still of the night. I give it half a minute, then sit up and make the call.

‘Ed?’ Andeanna answers on the first ring, breathless.

‘A car just passed. Axel?’

‘Yes. He should be gone twenty, maybe thirty minutes.’

‘Have you turned off the CCTV?’

‘No. I’ll delete the footage from the hard drive later. There isn’t time to go fiddling with it now.’

I don’t like the sound of that, but I have to trust her.

‘You want me to drive in or walk?’ I ask.

‘Drive and park round back.’

‘What about getting out again?’

‘I’ve spent the last few hours in the music room, listening to classical records. You can hide when Axel returns. I’ll take him in there. He won’t hear you
leave.’

Again, I don’t like it. I think it would be less risky if I left the car where it is, but I don’t want to start an argument, in case she changes her mind and forbids me entry. So I
go with her call and hope she knows what she’s doing.

The gates are opening again when I reach them. I glide through, take a sharp left at the end of the driveway, then a right around the building. Once I’m parked in the shadows, I leave the
keys in the ignition and look for Andeanna. She isn’t here, but one of the doors is open.

I enter a huge, cool pantry. I expected Andeanna to meet me, but she’s nowhere to be seen. I pad cautiously through the pantry and kitchen, not turning on any lights, finding my way
through the darkness by touch. When I reach the door to the main hall, which is brightly lit, I take stock of the situation.

This feels wrong. Why hasn’t Andeanna come to greet me? For all I know, the Turk is lying in wait beyond this door, about to spring a trap. One more step could be my last. It’s not
too late to retreat. Unless guards have closed in behind me, the route is clear. I could crash through the gates, hit the road at full speed and slow for nothing. To push ahead is suicidal.

My ghosts sense my uncertainty and press close around me, making spitting gestures, shrieking silently, doing their best to unnerve me and force me back.

Thinking of Andeanna and the fear in her voice, I ignore the ghosts, turn a deaf ear to reason and advance.

The hall is clear. No Mikis Menderes. No Bond Gardiner. No armed guards. Just emptiness and silence.

‘Andeanna?’ Her name echoes back. I move to the foot of the stairs, determined to go no further unless she returns my call. ‘Andeanna?’ When she doesn’t answer, I
start up, ignoring my vow to myself. The ghosts dart around me, doing their best to freak me out. They’re loving this, more animated than they’ve been in a long time.

There are footsteps behind me. I turn quickly, hand reaching for a gun which isn’t there, then relax when I spot Andeanna emerging out of the gloom of a dining room.

‘Sorry,’ she says, stopping in the doorway, hands crossed nervously over her abdomen. ‘I was watching for Axel, afraid he might forget something and return.’

‘You startled me,’ I smile, stepping down towards her, through the phalanx of scowling ghosts. ‘I thought . . . ’ I come to a halt. Andeanna hasn’t moved into the
light, but now that I’m closer, I can see more clearly. Her face is a mess. Bruises on her cheeks and forehead. Split lips. Black, puffy eyelids. ‘Jesus,’ I whisper.

‘Pretty, isn’t it?’ A hand sneaks to her left cheek and one of the larger bruises. ‘Nothing broken, thank God. None of the cuts needed stitches. I’ll be OK in a
week or two.’ A thin smile. ‘Maybe three.’

‘The Turk?’ I ask, and she nods. ‘He knows about us?’

‘No. I’d be dead if he did.’

‘Then why . . . ?’

‘Come here,’ she says, backing up. I follow reluctantly. When I get there, she’s reclining on a couch. She pats the space beside her. As I sit, she lays a hand on my knee and
leans forward to kiss me. Winces and stops. ‘Sorry. It hurts.’

She slips into silence. I study her, appalled. I’m glad it’s dark. The shadows mask the worst of the damage.

‘I wanted to ring you but I couldn’t. Yesterday I was in no shape to talk – you should see the state of my ribs – and today I was penned in by guards. It was lucky you
rang when you did — Axel was in the toilet. I was about to call you. Strange, the timing. Maybe we’re telepathic.’

‘Why did he do it?’ I snarl.

‘A poem.’


What?

‘I’d booked in to see Etienne before meeting with you and Joe,’ she explains. ‘Etienne Anders, the mystic I told you about?’

‘What does she have to do with this?’

‘She read my fortune.’ Andeanna’s cracked smile tears at my heart. ‘She predicted wonderful times, happiness, companionship. She doesn’t know who my husband is, but
she’s always been able to sense my sadness. This was the first time she’d made such promises. She said there was a new man in my life and he’d care for me, love me if I let him,
and everything would work itself out.’

‘Wise woman,’ I remark, managing a sickly grin.

‘I came home on a high,’ she continues. ‘I practically floated in the door and started getting ready. I wanted to make a good impression on Joe. In the middle of shaving my
legs, I put my razor aside and jotted down the beginning of a silly poem that popped into my head.

‘My lover’s kiss is like a drill,

His heart supplies its power.

Resistance he is quick to kill,

And my love he devours.’

She pulls a face. ‘Woeful, isn’t it?’

‘I’ve heard worse,’ I smile. ‘But not often.’

Her expression twists. ‘I was working on the second verse when Mikis sneaked up on me. Before I could stop him, he’d ripped the poem away. He lost his head. Screamed and demanded to
know the name of my lover. I told him it was about him, something I’d made up for fun, remembering our early days together, but he wouldn’t listen. It infuriated him. He . . . ’
She points vaguely to her face.

‘I’ll kill him,’ I growl.

‘Don’t start that again.’

‘He did all this because of a fucking
poem
?’

‘That’s Mikis. It would have been worse if I’d finished it. I was going to mention your name in the third or fourth verse, intending to give it to you later.’

‘The bastard.’ I wish I had him here, where I could lay my hands on him.

‘I don’t know,’ she sighs. ‘His suspicions were justified this time. The poem
was
about an actual lover. I convinced him in the end that it wasn’t –
he beat me so badly, he was sure I was telling the truth, that I couldn’t lie in the face of such a thrashing – but, to be fair, I brought this on myself.’

That’s a point I could debate sourly, but I don’t. Instead I get to my feet and say firmly, ‘Come on.’

‘Where?’ she asks, alarmed.

‘We’re leaving. I’m taking you with me. If we can’t book you on to my flight to Montana, we’ll take the next one. Pack what you can’t live without and
don’t forget your passport.’

She shakes her head. ‘Sit down. We’re not going anywhere.’

‘We are,’ I insist. ‘I’m not leaving you here in the hands of that son of a bitch. I can hide you, arrange fake papers. We’ll change our names and move on. He
won’t find us. And if he does, he’ll regret it. You’ll be safe with me, Andeanna. I swear, on all that’s sacred, I’ll protect you.’

She stares at me, taken aback. ‘I think you mean it,’ she murmurs.

‘Bet the Crown Jewels I do.’ I grin and offer her my hand. ‘Let’s go.’

She reaches towards me. Stops. ‘No,’ she whispers. ‘I can’t.’

‘You can!’ I shout, and she flinches. Lowering my voice, I kneel beside her. ‘Is it because you’re afraid?’

‘Partly,’ she says, starting to cry. The ghosts pull sad faces and wipe crocodile tears away. I don’t let them distract me. ‘But even if I wanted to leave, I’m in
no shape to go on the run. Just walking around the house is an effort.’

‘We’ll manage. We can hire a wheelchair. Hell, I’ll carry you if I have to.’

She touches my lips to silence me. ‘You’re thinking crooked. How will we cover our tracks if I’m confined to a wheelchair or slung over your shoulder? People will notice us.
Mikis will track down those people and find out where we went. It isn’t possible, not now, not tonight.’

Those last four words fill me with hope. ‘But you
will
come?’ I ask, seizing her hands. ‘Soon, when you’re able?’

She nods hesitantly. ‘I think so. Mikis has hurt me before, but never like this. I really thought he was going to kill me. Do you know what went through my mind?’ I look at her
questioningly. ‘I wished I’d let you fuck me.’ She blushes behind the clouds of dark purple bruises. ‘That was my only regret. I was sorry I hadn’t made the most of
you when I had the chance. That was when I realized how much I love you and how I can’t go on without you.’

‘Andeanna,’ I groan.

She strokes my chin and kisses me. This time she doesn’t wince. ‘We’ll make plans,’ she says. ‘We have time. Mikis hates me, but that can work in our favour. I
don’t think he’ll come to see me any time soon. The guards are a problem, but I can ring you when the chance arises. Maybe you can find sleeping pills and slip them to me. I often cook
for the guards, so I could –’

‘Greygo! Where are you?’

We swivel as if on springs. Through the door we see a man standing in the hall, hands on hips, looking up the stairs. My first thought is that it’s the Turk, and I welcome the intrusion,
but then Andeanna hisses, ‘Axel!’

Whether he hears her or just senses our presence, the guard turns and spots us. Frowning, he starts forward. ‘Who’s there?’ he asks, squinting into the darkness.

I have maybe four or five seconds before he’s upon us. Reacting calmly, as I did in the restaurant when I thought we might be attacked, I look for a weapon. There are vases on a shelf, but
they’re small, fragile, useless.

Andeanna stiffens. ‘If he sees us, it’s over. He’ll tell Mikis. He’ll . . . ’

The guard reaches the doorway and stops. ‘Who’s there?’ he barks. ‘Greygo? Are you with a woman?’

While my eyes search for something to defend myself with, Andeanna stands and walks towards the guard. ‘Hello, Axel. Greygo’s not here. Can I help?’

‘What the fuck?’ the guard mutters, staring at Andeanna. He takes a step back and stumbles over a telephone cable which hasn’t been tacked to the wall.
That’s
my
weapon.

Leaping to my feet, I dart past Andeanna, lowering my head as I charge. The guard’s eyes flicker towards me, but then, even though he must know I’m a threat, they return to Andeanna.
Taking advantage of his confusion, I barrel into him and knock him flat to the floor. The air explodes out of him in a huff. His hand goes for his gun, but I’m too fast. Grasping his wrist, I
elbow him between the eyes with my free arm.

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