Necrophobia (28 page)

“Thanks. I owe you one.” Hayley slapped Claire on the back as she doubled over to catch her breath.

“I’ll say.” She managed in response.

<
Thorn’s managed to apprehend Natascha. He’s bringing her up now.>
Isobel chimed in.

“Nice of him to help out.” Hayley rolled her eyes and stared at the warehouse doors.

“Any sign of that other vampire?” Claire managed to steady herself. “The doctor?”

<
None. No trace of her.>

“Figures.”

With the Vamprey killed, Natascha apprehended and the Night Guard picking through the warehouse, Claire and Hayley limped towards the station for debriefing.

Blindfolded and tied to a chair Sevaur struggled against his bindings. He could feel a strong breeze and sunlight hitting the back of his neck as he sat, around him someone paced loudly upon a stone floor. Now he was blind and bound in room with an unpleasant yet distinctive smell. The journey had been rough, disorientating and humiliating. At one point Sevaur recalled a distinct sensation of vertigo and weightlessness as wind rushed past him.

“Relax.” Sevaur recognised Falkner’s weary voice.

Someone moved closer to him and removed his blindfold and gag, an ageing dour face appeared before his eyes as his vision returned. Sevaur found himself face to face with the cold blue eyes of the traitor Inquisitor Haures. His sharp face and harsh gaze bored into the captured Knight-errant. Sevaur could make out a flash of white around his neck beneath his platemail underlining.

“Your brother doesn’t make things easy does he?” Haures spoke with a quiet and measured voice, his expression of calm almost eerie.

Sevaur snorted despite himself. “You’re telling me.”

Haures nodded and stood straight. Placing his arms behind his back his vision lingered on the view of the city. Sevaur realised he was caught in an aviary tower overlooking most of the city, fading blood-red light poured in through the exposed windows. Pigeons roosted within cages and watched them with curious beady eyes.

“What do you want from me?” Sevaur asked as the silence became unbearable.

“Nothing.” Haures replied without looking at him.

“I’m bait then.” Sevaur struggled against his bindings but they were fastened too tight.

“That’s right. Reiner’s like a dog with a bone, he won’t give in.” Falkner turned his back on them both and pressed himself against the window holes surrounding each edge of the circular tower. No longer wearing his dull long coat Sevaur could see his worn and defiled Caelite armour. The finer ornamentation and sigils filed off and whittled down perhaps to hide its origin. Even despite crude attempts at disguising his armour there was no hiding the Caelite craftsmanship. “That’s where you come in.”

“What are you going to do with him?” Sevaur hesitated as he watched the impassive stone face of the traitor Inquisitor.

“I have the utmost respect for the Caelite order.” Haures turned his gaze back down to Sevaur.

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it then.” Sevaur tried to move the binding closer to his open palms, perhaps he might be able to burn them apart.
So I can fight these two unarmed? That won’t work.

A wry smile flickered across Haures’ face. “However, they’ve become a nuisance. Your brother won’t back down until he’s metered out justice upon my comrade here and myself.”

“You’ve got half the city after you.”

“Yes, that is a problem.” His voice trailed off as though he was deep in contemplation. Falkner shook his head and continued to stare outside. Though Sevaur couldn’t see his face he had the distinct impression Falkner was rolling his eyes.

“If you kill my brother they’ll just send more Caelites.” He turned as much as he could towards Falkner. “You know they will.”

“That’s one option yes. We have several.”

Sevaur gritted his teeth as the tightness around his wrists and legs began cutting off some of his blood flow. “Capturing me won’t stop him. Stopping you two is his number one priority.”

“That’s debatable.” Falkner replied.

“Depending on how co-operative you are.” Haures began with a pointed look at Sevaur. “We may simply elect to wipe clear his memory of the past few days and send him off on his merry way.”

The bound Knight-errant paused and stared right back at the Inquisitor’s impassive face hoping to see the truth behind his words.

“On the other hand.” He raised his left hand for emphasis. “Perhaps he might serve our needs better if we enthralled him. We’d assure his compliance, and loyalty.”

“Perhaps we can teach the old dog some new tricks eh?” Falkner spoke with a feigned levity, the bitterness beneath his words came right through. He turned and leaned against the aviary window with his arms folded in contemplation.

“What about me?” Sevaur’s voice felt small and childlike as the two armoured men exchanged a knowing look.

“What about you?” Haures shrugged and stepped closer. “We have no interest in you. Behave yourself and we’ll let you live. The sooner we can quit this miserable town the better.”

The implicit slight that he was no threat to them at all was difficult to hear after all they’d done in the past few days to chase him. He realised it was the truth in that statement that hurt the most. He
was
little threat to them. They had greater experience, greater training, superior weapons and armour and more manpower. He didn’t even register on their city-wide conspiracy. He bristled as they stood judging him like disapproving parents.
So what if I’m not an elite Caelite or an Inquisitor I can still be useful. I can still be dangerous.
His hands shifted in position and the bindings loosened over his exposed hands cutting into his flesh. With his messy black hair dangling across his eyes and face he was grateful they couldn’t see his expression. He began to heat up his hands with a faint warmth, increasing the intensity of the fire little by little as he grew bolder. With any luck the unpleasant smell of hundreds of accumulated bird droppings would mask the smell of burning leather.

“Do you accept our terms?” Haures pressed a finger underneath Sevaur’s chin and turned his face upwards. Sevaur allowed the magic gathering around his hands to dissipate so as not to draw attention.

“I do.”

“Good.” He removed his hand with a smile. “You’ve made the right choice. Your freedom is perhaps the most important right you have. Don’t squander it. Most people only get one life.” He stepped back with a wider smile and almost an aside said. “For now.”

So much for freedom if you’re coercing me.

Sevaur waited with bated breath as the Inquisitor surveyed him once more with those cold eyes of his. He seemed genuine in both his threats and his promises and beliefs. He was beginning to see how the man before him could stir up and manipulate large groups of people into cults that hung onto his every word.

“Your brother will come for you because he aspires to be an icon, a role model and a leader. He has a sincerity few people do and such people must be treasured. If all goes well we get what we want and you both survive. Everyone wins.”

Sevaur nodded in agreement, still unsure what to make of the situation but he could feel resentment bubbling beneath the surface.

A knock on the wooden door startled him as an owl-masked man wrapped in a black cloak stepped into the aviary. “Sir.”

“Yes?”

“The Night Guard have raided the warehouse. Natascha has been captured and Morana is wounded.”

“What a shame.” Falkner muttered.

Even beneath the owl mask the cultist faltered, unsure of how to react to Falkner’s barbed comments. Haures dismissed Falkner with a wave of his hand and folded his arms.

“How many of us are left?”

The cultist shifted and scratched the back of his neck through his robes. “Not many.”

Sevaur watched Haures drum the inside of his folded arms with his fingers before he replied. “That rather forces our hand doesn’t it.”

“Sir.” The cultist nodded and his uneasiness grew.

“Very well.” He unfolded his arms and walked towards the cultist. The masked man twitched as though fighting the urge to back away. “They’ve left us with little choice. Get everyone ready. We’ll begin tomorrow.”

The cultist nodded frantically and hurried back down the stairs. Haures reached the door and hesitated. “Keep an eye on our friend here. We don’t need any more problems today.”

Falkner nodded with a mild grunt of acknowledgement as Haures disappeared down the circular staircase.

As night fell upon the city Claire laid back in a chair watching a moth flicker around a lamp. She was sat in another briefing room with Hayley, Veronica and Isobel. Her joints ached and she was starving with hunger causing her mind to wander. Isobel and Hayley recounted their information on the raid as they filled in the relevant paperwork and Veronica nodded in silence.

“Well, she’s the Inquisitor’s problem now.” Hayley shook her head with a sly smirk. “Inspector Thorn knew the Inquisition was after her. He shouldn’t be so upset.”

“It’s better for us.” Veronica adjusted her tinted glasses on the end of her nose. “Dmitri will cause no end of problems as long as we hold his daughter in custody. With the Inquisition at the helm of her capture and interrogation it’s no longer our concern.”

“Agreed. She can rot under the Inquisition’s care. We’ve got what we needed from her.” Isobel drank deep from her mug of tea, her eyes were drooping and circled with dark rings.

“If I know Dmitri he’ll distance himself from her and claim she acted on her own initiative. For the time being that’ll be difficult to dispute.”

Claire fumbled with her pen as she filled out her statement on the raid. Hayley went to great lengths earlier to explain proper procedure which she was grateful for but wished she hadn’t.

“From what you’ve told me, the vampire doctor you encountered was one Morana Norwood.” Veronica continued looking between Hayley and Claire for confirmation.

“We didn’t get her name.” Claire added feeling a little useless. “Tall, thin, greasy black hair…”
I’ve heard that name before though.
Where she heard it was at the tip of her tongue, so close yet so far out of reach.

“It’s her alright.” Isobel nodded. “Seems she’s not as dead as we thought.”

A slight smile crossed Veronica’s face. “That’s vampires for you Isobel. They’re good at that.”

“Twenty-six years is a long time to go in hiding.”

“What happened?” Claire asked hoping to take her mind off the hunger and the lengthy forms before her.

Isobel and Veronica exchanged a dark look before Isobel answered. “Back before I retired Eleanor and I were investigating cabals of vampire activity within the city.”
Of course! I saw that name in her journal.

“That’d be during Alphonse’s time I believe.” Veronica interjected.

“Indeed. Your mother and I burned scores of fledgling vampires and their progenitors. Morana Norwood was one of the last and most difficult to purge. We cornered her in her laboratory on the outskirts of the city. We believed her dead alongside the destruction of her vampire factory.”

“You checked her body?” Claire asked as politely as she could.

“Of course! Charred by your mother’s magic and pinned beneath fallen rubble.”

“Any idea how she survived?”

Isobel shrugged and rubbed her weary eyes. “Who knows. They’re a blight.”

“Perhaps she was resurrected with necromancy then.”

“A possibility.”

“I believe that was one of the last cases you both worked on.” Veronica gave a furtive glance at Claire before focusing her attention of Isobel. The elderly Night Guard stifled a yawn and seemed not to notice.

“Yes. I suspect it was.”

“This might be a shot in the dark here…” Hayley had been engrossed in filling out her forms but clearly she was paying more attention than she let on. “Perhaps the body you found wasn’t her.”

“It’s possible.” Isobel conceded. “It was a long time ago I don’t remember it so well anymore.”

“Now that we know she’s around you can ask her.” Claire said whilst stifling a yawn of her own.

“We’ll continue this tomorrow when everybody is fresh.” Veronica announced, gathering her possessions.