The Cold Kiss of Death (42 page)
‘Sure you do,’ Hannah said firmly. ‘Darius is almost as big as a troll anyway, so he’ll be right up your street.’ She arched a perfectly drawn brow at Joseph. ‘Now, Doctor, are we done yet?’
‘She’s dead,’ Joseph said quietly, turning away to fiddle with a medical trolley next to his machines.
‘Right, now stay out the way, but
don’t
leave the circle, and remember what I told you. Make sure you do it, otherwise come midnight yours will be one of the souls going to the demon.’
don’t
leave the circle, and remember what I told you. Make sure you do it, otherwise come midnight yours will be one of the souls going to the demon.’
Joseph crossed himself, his face pale.
It looked like he might be a goodie, which begged the question how in hell had Hannah got her claws in him?
Hannah loosened her robe and let it fall to the ground, leaving her wearing nothing but a gold locket on a chain around her neck. She stepped up to the altar and used a small step-stool to climb up and onto me, swinging a leg over until she was straddling my thighs. She stared down for a minute then cupped her own full breasts and sighed. ‘I’m going to miss my curves’ - she gave my own smaller breasts a prod - ‘but thank goodness for silicone.’
Shock slammed into me as I realised she wasn’t just going to be
borrowing
my body. She was taking it over.
borrowing
my body. She was taking it over.
Permanently.
Hannah lifted her arms and removed the gold locket, opened it and placed it on my stomach, where it sat like a frozen butterfly. She waved at Janet, who hurried over, holding out a black embroidered cushion like a tray. ‘Your athame, Mistress.’
‘It’s not an athame, Janet,’ Hannah rebuked her. ‘It’s a very special knife, forged by the northern dwarves from cold iron and silver.’ She picked it up and ran a finger carefully along the thin blade. ‘It was tempered in dragon’s breath. The handle is carved from a unicorn’s horn, and this’ - she smiled as she stroked the oval of clear amber set in its handle - ‘this is a dragon’s tear.’
‘A Bonder of Souls,’ whispered Cosette in awe. ‘Wherever did she discover that?’
I narrowed my eyes. The last time I’d seen the knife, other than my dreams, I’d been four years old. ‘She stole it,’ I said flatly. ‘From Malik al-Khan.’
‘Ah, of course - that is how he tied your soul to his when you were a child. I was curious about how he’d done so.’
I eyed her with suspicion. ‘How do you know about that?’
‘Any knowledge is available if you’re prepared to pay the price,’ she murmured, her gaze fixed on Hannah.
Ri-ght, the demon information service. Figured!
Hannah held up the knife and started chanting in the same guttural language I’d heard her use before. Then she leaned forward and carved three interconnecting crescent moons in the centre of my chest.
I recognised them at once: Cosette had the same marks on her own small chest - only now I was beginning to suspect she might have put them there herself, and not, as I’d always thought, had them inflicted on her.
I watched, tense and powerless, as blood, glinting like wet rubies in the flickering candlelight, seeped into the marks carved on my chest. Hannah offered the knife to my blood and it rushed up the silver blade, turning it crimson. Then she held the knife over the locket and I watched as the blood drained down and pooled inside its open wings.
‘Your soul to gold, Genevieve,’ she chanted, kissing the knife and leaving a smear of blood on her lips, ‘my soul to your flesh,’ as she bent and touched her bloody lips to my mouth, ‘your flesh and my soul to join.’ Then she gripped the knife in both hands, held it out in front of her and reversed the blade. She took a deep breath and plunged it into her body, under her ribs and up into her heart.
Screaming, she threw her head back as if in ecstasy, hands still clutching the knife as blood dripped down between her fingers, then, after a moment, she wrenched the knife from her chest and let it drop as she half-fell, half-lowered herself onto me to press her mouth to mine, her body twitching in its death throes.
Joseph turned away, his face pale.
Janet stared avidly, her mouth parted, her bag of sweets clutched in her fist, forgotten.
Beside me, Cosette watched just as avidly. ‘She always was a good student, that one,’ she said, her dark eyes lit with something almost like pride.
Anger flooded into me, washing away the shock and panic. I bent down to look her in the eyes. ‘Right, now that your erstwhile pupil is happily stealing my body, want to tell me what I’m supposed to do to stop her?’
‘You can’t stop her, Genny,’ Cosette said, holding up a hand to silence me, ‘but you might be able to reclaim your body.’
‘How?’ I demanded.
‘You’ll need to expel her soul and rebond your own into your body.’
‘And somehow I just know that’s going to be easier said than done. Any hints?’
‘Use your connections.’
‘Short, sweet and cryptic doesn’t do it for me,’ I said. ‘Want to tell me how in more practical terms?’
‘Let me show you something first.’ She gripped my hand again and even though I knew what she was -
who
she was - I couldn’t bring myself to yank my hand from hers. She led me past the wall with its painted mural to a small, dark alcove. Inside was another waist-high stone slab, on which was lying a woman’s body, half-shrouded in a white sheet. Her long dark hair curled around her shoulders and her mouth was drawn back in a rictus, showing her sharp white fangs. Another gold locket nestled between her full breasts. Rosa. Thankfully, the only wound she had was the one on her left hip, the one that corresponded with the spell tattoo on my own left hip. She’d obviously healed any damage done by having a five-foot sword run through her.
who
she was - I couldn’t bring myself to yank my hand from hers. She led me past the wall with its painted mural to a small, dark alcove. Inside was another waist-high stone slab, on which was lying a woman’s body, half-shrouded in a white sheet. Her long dark hair curled around her shoulders and her mouth was drawn back in a rictus, showing her sharp white fangs. Another gold locket nestled between her full breasts. Rosa. Thankfully, the only wound she had was the one on her left hip, the one that corresponded with the spell tattoo on my own left hip. She’d obviously healed any damage done by having a five-foot sword run through her.
‘You’re not suggesting I use Rosa’s body, are you?’ I asked guardedly.
‘Sadly, that is no longer a possibility,’ Cosette told me, squeezing my hand. ‘The vampire’s body is bonded to yours through flesh and magic, not by soul or spirit. But I have more to show you.’ She put a finger to her lips and tugged. ‘Come on, we must be quiet. It is better if they do not see you.’ She led me to the open doorway in the bricked-up archway and motioned for me to look. ‘Stand here at the side,’ she murmured.
I peered around the door and into a big, dark, arched-roof space. I frowned as a feeling of déjà vu snagged in my mind, then the thought vanished as I saw the people - thirty or so of them, men, women and a few children, sitting in rows or standing in silent groups ... no, not living people, but souls, ghosts, shades.
I turned back to Cosette and whispered, ‘What are they all doing here?’
‘Hannah has gathered them to pay her demon debt; she has been collecting ghosts from all over the city.’ She pointed to the far side where a ghostly teenager was curled on his side, tears streaking down his face. Another ghost, a woman carrying a posy of wilted flowers, bent and ruffled his hair consolingly. The boy flinched and his head jerked up. He looked around, wide-eyed and scared. ‘Who’s there?’ he whispered, then sucked in the silver hoop piercing his bottom lip and huddled up again, more tears squeezing from his eyes.
Shock sparked in me as I recognised him: the florist’s lad. Then I realised something else and I turned back to Cosette. ‘He’s not dead, is he?’
‘The demon always likes a virgin sacrifice.’ Her thin little shoulders shrugged. ‘He qualifies. He’s also a witness they need to be rid of. With him and all the souls she’s collected, that’s an abundant offering. She’s hoping this will free her totally.’
‘But if she does that, she won’t be a sorcerer any more.’ I was missing something.
‘No, she will be sidhe fae - or at least her body will. And she will control its magic - just as you controlled the vampire’s magic when your soul inhabited that body.’
That made ambitious sense; I could see the advantage in upgrading to a body with its own magical power source, instead of owing a demon for every spell you cast. Didn’t mean I had to like it, or let it happen. Or that I was stupid.
I crouched down next to Cosette. ‘Okay, you’ve been haunting me for long enough, you’ve shown me a sacrificial virgin and a load of ghosts that need rescuing from the fiery pits of hell, so now you can tell me what you get out of all this.’ I smiled, knowing it didn’t reach my eyes, ghostly or otherwise. ‘And don’t try telling me you’re suffering from an attack of remorse or sudden altruism, because I won’t believe you.’
‘Of course not, Genny.’ She patted her chest. ‘I want you to save my soul from the demon too, but I appreciate you might not feel as charitable towards me as some of the innocents in there - look on them as an added incentive. Oh, and just to make it perfectly clear, Hannah intends giving your soul to the demon as well, in return for making her soul in your body a permanent transfer.’
‘Of course she does,’ I muttered. ‘So tell me about these connections.’
She waved her small arm at me. ‘Look and you will see.’
Great. More cryptic clues—
But as I looked, I realised I could still
look
, that I could still
see
the magic, and both my own body and Cosette’s were as transparent as a heat shimmer. Queasiness roiled in my stomach. I closed my eyes briefly, regaining my equilibrium, then
looked
again. This time I could see two ethereal threads attached to my ghostly form; the first was the black silken rope which dangled from my left arm, the rope I’d seen before, when Malik’s sword-trick at the Blue Heart had thrown me back into the nightmare of my memories. The other was a fine red thread joined to the knuckles of my left hand.
look
, that I could still
see
the magic, and both my own body and Cosette’s were as transparent as a heat shimmer. Queasiness roiled in my stomach. I closed my eyes briefly, regaining my equilibrium, then
looked
again. This time I could see two ethereal threads attached to my ghostly form; the first was the black silken rope which dangled from my left arm, the rope I’d seen before, when Malik’s sword-trick at the Blue Heart had thrown me back into the nightmare of my memories. The other was a fine red thread joined to the knuckles of my left hand.
‘How do they—?’
A loud buzzing shattered the quiet as one of Doctor Joseph’s machines leapt to life.
‘Yes, it worked,’ Janet yelled loudly, and slapped Joseph on the arm. ‘C’mon, help me get it off her. You take the legs.’ She yanked at Hannah’s old body, jumping out of the way as it rolled and hit the floor with a loud smack, sounding like nothing so much as a side of meat. Joseph froze, his eyes wide above his face-mask, staring down at the blood-covered corpse.
Janet walked round and gave him a little shove. ‘C’mon, Doc, get on and do your stuff,’ she ordered.
Hands shaking, he trundled the small trolley nearer and reached for a swab. He cleaned the blood off my body’s left breast, then lifted what looked like an elephant-sized hypodermic. He held it up and pushed the syringe plunger until a bead of clear liquid appeared, then tapped the syringe until, finally appearing satisfied with his preparations, he felt along my ribs, and positioned the needle. He hesitated, and I could see his eyes blinking behind his glasses, then he pushed down hard until the needle was up to the hilt in my flesh. Then he injected the liquid.
‘Do you think that’s going to be enough?’ Janet hovered over him.
‘I’ve given her enough adrenalin to get a horse started; it’s almost three times what she needs for the body weight,’ he said quietly as he withdrew the needle and swabbed again. ‘It’s the equivalent of a massive build-up of venom, which is what I think brought her - it -
the body
round last time.’
the body
round last time.’
We all stood and watched my body.
‘Give her another—’
My body’s spine arched and my arms and legs started spasming as if plugged into a live electrical socket. The machine beeped into life and numbers flashed red and began rising fast, and faster. My body opened its eyes; my mouth formed a wide, overjoyed grin and jerked upright.
‘Oh my goodness,’ my mouth yelled delightedly, ‘it worked, it really worked!’ My body lifted its hand and muttered and a ball of light glowed like the sun in its palm; my body threw it up and blew it a kiss. The light shattered into rainbow colours that rained down like a spring shower. ‘Oh, the power! It’s like driving a Ferrari instead of a cranky old rustbucket!’
Fuck.
And I didn’t even know how to ride a bike.
And I didn’t even know how to ride a bike.
I rubbed my hands over my face. I needed to work out how to get out of this, and I needed to get my own body back - before the demon appeared to claim all those poor souls, and mine—I clamped down on the terror that thinking of the demon brought and shoved it away. I looked up as my body threw another spell in the air and it showered me/it/Hannah with coloured light; and filled me with freaky confusion.
Okay, now I needed to think of
my
body as Hannah’s.
my
body as Hannah’s.
‘Get this stuff off me,’ Hannah said, flicking at the electrodes stuck to her chest. Doctor Joseph worked quickly, removing both the electrodes and the cap of wires that hatted her head. As soon as he was done, she fastened the gold locket around her neck.
‘Wow!’ she said, smiling at Janet. ‘You know what? I feel wonderful’ - she held out her hand; it was shaking - ‘if a bit quivery.’ She swung her legs off the altar and slid to the ground, reaching out to grab hold of Janet’s arm as she wobbled. ‘Time waits for no woman, or in my case, no sidhe fae. Shower first, then tidy up that mess you left at Granny’s. After that I’ll pay a visit to the bank. I still need to get the Fabergé egg.’
‘What’s the Fabergé egg for?’ I asked Cosette.
‘The egg’s a soul trap. Without it she can’t collect all those souls she’s gathered and hand them safely over to the demon, and that means the demon will take her own soul instead as payment.’
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