Camdeboo Nights (28 page)

“What are you, then? You are no witch or vampire. I saw a girl with eyes like a cat, outside. This circus is much changed. And stop calling me a wight, I’m a vampire, damn it! You make it sound like I’m something that crawled out of the pits of hell.”

Pale hands, the fingers beringed with many large gems, reached up to lift the veil. A too-pale, angular face with pitch-black eyes widely set looked back at him, impassive.

“You–vampires–are so arrogant to think you are the apex of the feeding chain. Arwen has told me what’s going on. Helen must not fall into the Black Pope’s hands.”

“You still haven’t answered my question. What are you? How can I trust you?”

“What I am is of no account to you, little Essence sucker. The truth is, in this game, you can trust no one.”

Arwen whispered. “Nephilim.”

“Eh?” Trystan queried. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Witches, vampires and fallen angels...what next? Suppose you’ve got a werewolf or two chained up out in one of those trailers?”

The woman shifted, a small smile playing across her features. “It was only a matter of time before someone found out about Helen and sought to manipulate her. Do you honestly think you would be able to protect her when you have your inclinations? Everything you do, Trystan, reverberates in the aether. The time will come when the burden of your kind will grow too much for this world, like it did for mine. The new order will come and you will be left on the fringes, scrabbling out your pitiful existence.”

“You call this living?” Trystan gestured at the trailer’s interior.

“It depends how you measure security, wight. Freedom is my greatest asset. That, and knowledge.”

“So, you run around with a pack of misfits?”

“We’re biding our time.”

“Unbelievable.”

“
You’re a fine one to talk and you know that
.” Her acerbic voice intruded in his mind.

“I’ve heard enough! Etienne, give me my bleeding keys. Now. You can stay here or come with me. I’m going to find Helen.”

Etienne shifted on his seat. He looked toward Arwen, as if seeking some sort of affirmation, but she stared only at Trystan, her dark eyes reading his Essence in the most disconcerting fashion.

The Nephilim leaned back and placed her hands palms down on the table. He found it almost impossible to tell where her eyes–all black pupil–focused.

“The keys, Etienne.”

“Right,” the small boy said. “I’m coming.”

“Eleanor.” Arwen grasped the tall woman’s arm. “You will help, if you can?”

Eleanor’s shoulders twitched. “We follow the road, Arwen. You will find us or we will find you. Our time does not move in the same manner as the rest of the world.”

“How utterly romantic,” Trystan said. Enough of this mystical clap-trap.

“I’ll see you again, wight,” Eleanor said. “You have chosen an uncommon fate.”

What utter bullshit. “I don’t believe that kind of rubbish. Now if you will excuse me, I’ve got things that I need to do.”

“Indeed,” Eleanor said. “Well, Arwen, it was good to see that you’ve grown up so nicely.” She clasped Arwen’s hands before leaning across the table to squeeze Etienne’s shoulder. “You will have a place here, little one.”

An unreadable expression passed over Etienne’s face then he caught Trystan’s gaze and slipped off the seat.

Satisfied Etienne followed, Trystan turned his back on the little tableau to stalk out into the downpour with Etienne trotting after him.

“The keys, Etienne.” He held a hand back so the boy could return
Rose’s
keys.

The weight of the metal comforted him and he bunched his fingers around the familiar contours. “Is the little bitch coming?”

Etienne’s footsteps faltered and Trystan fancied the boy turned around to look.

“She’s leaving the trailer now.”

“Mmph.” He couldn’t wait to slip into the driver’s seat where he could determine the route that they’d take. He’d seen too much this day. Perhaps it would be better to withdraw from the course. There were too many variables.

“
Ah, but the prize, fool wight. What could you do with so much Essence?
”

“
Get out of my thoughts, Fallen One.
”

Trystan needed to put as much distance between himself and the Nephilim as possible. Like hell, he’d bring Helen back here. He rubbed at the gooseflesh crawling up his arm. Everyone wanted a piece of her, it would seem. The question remained, what did
he
really want?

Chapter 32

Narrowing the Playing Field

Etienne took his seat in the back of the Hudson in no mood to speak. He tried to sum up the day’s events but failed. Too much strangeness left his head spinning.

It didn’t surprise him to discover that Arwen hailed from a long line of circus folk but what had Eleanor meant by saying that he had a place in the Paladin circus? He doubted her comment was aimed at him just because of his dwarfism.

While Arwen and Eleanor had spoken, he’d taken the opportunity to rest. He’d browsed through a few of the books–some with fascinating etchings dating back to the Dark Ages–comfortably propped up with velvet-covered cushions, his stomach full after a meal of toast, cheese and Earl Grey tea. He’d closed his eyes and the entire day had passed. When he woke, he discovered someone had thoughtfully covered him with a crochet throw.

What had Eleanor discussed with Arwen? Why was Arwen’s expression so triumphant? He daren’t ask her in front of the vampire, who now drove with his mouth twisted in an ugly sneer whenever Etienne caught sight of his expression in the rear view mirror.

Etienne contented himself by looking out the window. It had been ages since he’d been to Johannesburg. Everything had changed, grown bigger, the roads busier.

Trystan dumped a dusty tome on Arwen’s lap with a terse instruction. “Navigate.”

She read out the street names as they wound their way through a bewildering array of neighborhoods and busy intersections. If they abandoned him here, he’d be lost for days.

After a number of wrong turns and a muttered argument between Arwen and the vampire, they reached Houghton and the address Anabel had given them.

He noted, with some dismay, a police van parked outside, an ambulance and two tow-trucks. The cacophony of their lights painted his retinas with blue, red and orange.

“We’re too late!” Trystan didn’t slow the Hudson down and cruised past.

“Want me to go in?” Etienne said. “I’ll find out what happened. Maybe Helen’s still there, or Damon. We need to know if anyone got hurt.”

“What’s the point?” Trystan replied.

“Lemme just give it a shot, all right?”

The vampire did not reply but parked the Hudson a block down the road.

“Trystan,” Arwen said. “I’ve got something of Helen’s. Maybe you can do that thing it is you do when you zone in on victims. I’ll keep chips and Etienne can go scouting. It needn’t take long.”

“I’ve never been good at that kind of
reaching
.” Trystan’s tone was sour.

“Please try,” Etienne said.

The look the vampire flashed in his direction could have stripped paint.

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” Etienne slipped out of the car. He looked back long enough to see Arwen pass Trystan a small beadwork sun.

Swallowing hard, he covered the intervening distance between the car and the blue-flashing police vehicles. He had to admit that his size did have advantages, although he had never considered espionage as a profession.

Then again, all those years spent avoiding trouble at school, he’d become pretty good at not being noticed.

What in hell’s name had happened at Helen’s dad’s new house, though? A battered Toyota blocked the driveway, its bonnet crumpled after having smashed into something solid–another car? There was no other vehicle in sight, however, and the stench of spilled fuel made his nose twitch.

A large woman lay covered by one of the medical-issue blankets. Quite dead. One brown arm was exposed, fingers curled out in supplication. Etienne concentrated rather on the other people around him. A dead body. A freaking dead body.
Oh my God
.

Two police officers questioned Helen’s father, who kept running his hand through his disheveled hair. He toyed with the idea of approaching Mr. Ashfield then thought better of it.

Ahead of him, up a red brick-paved driveway, complete with ornamental cypresses guiding his way, stood a double-story, ultra-modern house, its light blazing into the night.

The front door gaped but Etienne skirted the structure while praying there were no dogs. What sort of people had so much money, he was liable to get lost walking in the garden? On any other day he’d love to explore. Now he jumped at every small sound, silently imploring the powers that be he would not bump into any cops.

He’d hoped to find the back door open but had to praise providence for his good fortune, for who should he find on the back veranda but Damon, clutching Helen’s phone while staring into space.

Etienne took a deep breath then stepped forward. “Hey, Damon, what’s happening?”

Damon jerked, almost dropping the phone as he sat upright. “Omigod! Etienne! What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story. Where’s Helen? Why’s there a corpse in your driveway?”

“We think Helen’s been kidnapped.” Damon’s shoulders slumped.

They were too late! “When?”

“Me, my dad and his girlfriend,” Damon flattened the last word, “went out to the movies this afternoon. Helen decided to stay home. She was sulking.” Damon frowned and shifted his limbs. “Damn it! I should have persuaded her to come along!”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Etienne said, “it would have happened anyway. If not today, then tomorrow, maybe.” He knew he’d said the wrong thing the moment the words left his mouth.

“What do you mean?” Damon got up and pushed the wrought-iron chair back so hard it fell over with a loud clatter of metal on tiles.

Etienne cringed. “Ugh. Where do I start?” He looked around and, seeing no one, sat on one of the other chairs. “When you guys left yesterday afternoon, I sneaked out of the dorms and caught the taxi down to town to see Arwen in hospital. On my way back Trystan picked me up. He’d been at the dorms looking for your sister. He was very agitated.”

Now how the hell could he explain to Damon about vampires who believed his sister had some sort of mystical power?

“What? If he’s behind this–”

“Wait! Wait! Hear me out! Fuck. How do I say this? Okay, dude, there’s some hectic shit going on that Trystan found out about and there’s a seriously dangerous woman who’s out to get your sister.”

“Why? And how come Trystan’s involved?”

Etienne grimaced. He was saying everything wrong. “Argh! So you haven’t seen anyone asking after Helen?”

“No! Why is Helen in trouble? I don’t get any of this! You and I both know, if anyone’s going to get messed up in something bad with the wrong people it’s
your
friend, Arwen.”

The urge to get the hell off this property nearly had Etienne bolting. He mustn’t get Damon involved. Helen would kill him if anything happened to her kid brother. He’d already said far too much.

“Look, Damon, I gotta fly. They’re waiting for me back in the car. I’m going to try to see what I can do to help find your sister.” If she wasn’t dead, or worse, by now.

“Don’t you think you should speak to one of the detectives? You may have some information that could help.”

“No!” Etienne shifted off the seat. He’d really put his foot in it now.

“I’m coming with!” Damon jumped forward, as though to grab at Etienne’s arm.

“It’s too dangerous!” Etienne dodged out of reach. Arwen was so going to kill him, not to mention death breath himself.

A woman called from the house’s interior. “Damon? Is that you outside? Who’re you talking to?”

Etienne used Damon’s momentary distraction to pelt down the side of the house. Behind him Damon shouted but he kept running, took a detour into the garden and kept a course parallel to the driveway.