The Compelled (12 page)

I heard a sound coming from the upper landing. It could have merely been a butler moving a piece of furniture, or two lovers who’d found a quieter spot to entertain each other. But I decided to investigate. After all, if my suspicions were correct, someone might be in trouble.

I stole quietly up the staircase. When I reached the landing, it was just what I’d feared. One of the well-dressed men from downstairs was holding a servant girl in an embrace. But the servant girl wasn’t reciprocating. Instead, she’d fallen over his arms in a faint, and he was sucking blood from her neck.

Before I knew what I was doing, I raced toward them. I didn’t have vervain or a stake. But I had Power. I hoped that would be enough.

The vampire turned toward me, his eyes blazing in surprise as he dropped the girl to the ground. I could tell he was a brand-new vampire. His feeding had been manic and forceful, his chin at an awkward angle to her throat.

I bared my fangs and emitted a low, guttural growl that sent the vampire beating a hasty retreat. As he vanished down the staircase, the servant girl sat up, rubbing her head.

“What happened?” she asked in confusion, unaware of the two small wounds still dripping blood down her neck.

“You passed out. You must have been exhausted.” I compelled her to believe it. “You should head home.”

I felt the lining of my pocket, surprised when my fingertips grazed several heavy coins. The owner of this pair of pants was obviously wealthy. I pulled them out.

“Here,” I said, dropping the change into the girl’s hand. “This should pay you for tonight.”

The girl smiled a slow, sleepy smile. “Thank you, sir. I feel like you’re my guardian angel.”

“Trust me, I’m not,” I said roughly.

I escorted the girl down the stairs, making sure she safely left the building. Then, I turned to survey the scene. I had to find the vampire before he did more damage.

My heart dropped. How had I not noticed before? Because even though Samuel wasn’t here, he was everywhere: stamped on the blank faces of the men eschewing the buffet table, in the hollow gestures of women adjusting their neck scarves, and in the somber, funereal atmosphere. It wasn’t as if the partygoers were doing anything unusual or out of place. Rather, their movements were studied and deliberate, as if they were performing on a stage. Mostly, it was their vacant stares that made it obvious.

They were all vampires. And they were all compelled.

I saw Cora weave her way through the crowd toward me. At least she was safe. “Stefan, where
were
you?” Cora asked, placing her hands on her hips. “I’ve been looking for you. Lord Ainsley’s right over there.”

Ahead of us was a ginger-haired man I’d met several times, back when Damon was part of Samuel’s elite social circle. He was heir to a British banking fortune and had always seemed to be one of Samuel’s closest confidants.

“Lord Ainsley!” I called loudly. I needed to see for myself if he was compelled, too. A few people, including Cora, turned to stare. Lord Ainsley nodded briefly, ended his conversation, and began picking his way toward me. He was only a few feet away when a short man in a suit, top hat, and bow tie lurched in front of me. I held out my arm to keep him from falling. As I steadied him, his glazed eyes turned up toward me and he blinked in confusion.

“Are you all right?” I asked in annoyance.

He nodded, then his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Do I know you?”

“Friend of Samuel’s,” I lied as Cora squeezed my hand. “Is he coming tonight?”

The man shook his head. “We know how busy Samuel is. He’s got business at Ten Downing Street. Say, will you be going tomorrow? I hear he’s only picking a few of his best soldiers to join him.”

“Downing Street?” The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. There was no response; the man had already faded back into the crowd.

At this point, we’d lost Lord Ainsley, too. I saw Damon, twirling Charlotte in the center of the dance floor, as though nothing was wrong. Her movements were wooden.

I had to get Cora out of there before she became the party’s next victim. I grabbed her arm and began weaving between the dancers toward Damon.

I tapped my brother’s shoulder. “A word?”

He glanced at me, annoyance evident in his face. “Yes, brother?”

“In
private
,” I said.

“You can go ahead,” Charlotte said stiffly.

Not taking my hand off Cora’s arm, I led the way outside, away from any prying eyes. My breath came out in white puffs in the cold.

I locked eyes with my brother. “Do you know what’s going on in there?” I asked.

“That the party’s full of vampires? Yes, and apparently, compelled vampires are as dull as dishwater,” he said disdainfully.

“We have to leave, Damon. It’s not safe here.”

Damon shrugged. “Relax. I’ll have a few more dances, then maybe a quick meal off a servant girl. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Fine, do what you like,” I said in disgust. “I’ll see you at home.” Let Damon shirk responsibility in favor of one last dance. I was determined to prevent anyone else from falling into the clutches of Samuel’s army of vampires.

Without another word, I hailed one of the cabs waiting on the corner and directed it back to our Bedford Street home.

“
W
hat happened?” Cora asked when we finally made our way back to the house.

“That wasn’t a normal party. Samuel’s already hard at work,” I said, explaining what I’d seen upstairs. “His next stop is Ten Downing Street.” Cora’s face whitened, and then she turned on her heel and marched into the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” I called, trailing behind her as she flung open the cupboards and pulled out sacks of flour and sugar before placing them on the rough-hewn wooden table in the center of the room.

“If we want to have any chance of getting in to stop Samuel, we’ll need reinforcements. You do know what Ten Downing Street is, don’t you?”

I shook my head.

“It’s where Robert Cecil lives. The prime minister?” Cora said in exasperation. “Stefan, this is serious!”

“I know it is. If he gets inside, then he can turn him and compel him to do his bidding.” I hung my head in my hands. “But how, exactly, will baking help solve this problem?” I asked as I watched Cora crisply measure flour into a cup. A smudge of flour landed on her cheek, but she didn’t bother to wipe it off.

“Vervain,” she said crisply. “We’ll bribe the guards with vervain-laced cookies, so they’ll be protected from compulsion when Samuel arrives. I think Damon still has some lying around. I saw it in his pack upstairs. It’s in a vial—be a dear and get it?” she asked sweetly.

I happily obliged, glad someone was able to come up with a plan. Sure enough, Damon had several vials of vervain, along with a crossbow and wooden bullets. He was well stocked for a vampire battle.
He should have brought that to the party
, I thought darkly as I gingerly grabbed the vervain bottles and brought them downstairs.

I placed the vials on the kitchen counter and then moved as far away as possible. Even through the glass, the herb caused my eyes to water and my fingers to sting.

“Two eggs, then? They’re in the icebox behind you,” Cora dictated.

I passed the eggs to her and she expertly cracked them in the bowl before taking the vervain out of the vial. She
bit her lip and squinted at the bright purple blossoms. “Should I pretend they’re berries? I’m not sure how many to put in.”

“Well, I guess as much as possible. Remember, humans can’t taste vervain, so it doesn’t matter,” I said.

“We can’t take any chances or make any assumptions,” Cora said. “Every part of a plan has a purpose. For all we know, he could simply kill the guards when he can’t compel them. In which case, we need to make sure we bring stakes to attack. It won’t be ideal, but it’ll have to do.”

She had a point. Everything was important. I began to have the faintest glimmer of hope that this plan, as crazy as it was, might just work. “How else can I help?” I asked.

“Just watch,” Cora said. “I like having company in the kitchen. Violet and I always used to cook together.”

“I’m sorry,” I said automatically as soon as she mentioned Violet’s name.

Cora turned to me, holding her spoon as if it were a weapon. Despite myself, I laughed at her serious demeanor.

“Stop it! You could say ‘I’m sorry’ for eternity. But you didn’t do any of this. Samuel did. And he’ll be stopped.” As if to prove her point, she put the spoon down, picked up a knife, and cleanly sliced through a stick of butter.

Just then, the door burst open and Damon walked in. He was still in his tuxedo, but his bow tie was hanging
loosely around his neck.

“Hello!” he said, walking into the kitchen and surveying the scene. “What is this? Have we abandoned revenge to open up a bakery? How quaint!” Damon’s sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed. He peered into Cora’s bowl.

“None for you,” Cora swatted his hand away. “Stefan and I have a plan.”

“All right, you’ve piqued my curiosity,” Damon said, sitting expectantly at the table as Cora scooped spoonfuls of the mixture onto a large baking sheet.

“Samuel’s next target is the prime minister’s house, and presumably, the prime minister himself. We’re going to bring these vervain-laced cookies to the guards at Downing Street, to protect them from compulsion, and ask them to deliver more cookies to everyone inside. After that, we’ll wait for Samuel and then make our move.”

“I’ll go with you,” Damon said, surprising me with his willingness. “In case things start to go sour, I’ll be there to compel whomever necessary.”

“All right, then. That’s why I’m glad you’re here,” Cora said sweetly as she pushed the baking sheet into the oven. Soon, the air was filled with the sweet scent of cookies. The plan could have been brilliant, or it could have been desperate. None of us had any idea how it would play out. But no matter what, we were all in it together.

The next afternoon, we followed Cora toward the prime minister’s house. She was carrying a basket of cookies. Above us, the sun was sinking low in the sky, but the air was warmer than it had been lately. I hoped the fine weather was a good omen. I needed something to believe in.

As we approached 10 Downing Street, I saw two fur-hatted guards standing at attention next to a simple gate. I glanced up, expecting to see a castlelike structure. But the prime minister’s home was a modest brick building even smaller than the Bedford Square house we’d taken residence in.

We paused behind a tree on the opposite side of the street.

“Are we clear on the plan?” I asked.

Cora nodded, and I noticed her fingers holding the basket handle were trembling. At least Damon would be going with her.

“All right. Good luck,” I said. My heart was pounding, even though we weren’t doing anything near as dangerous as we had in Miller’s Court.

“Hello there!” Cora called across the lawn, swinging her basket as though she were Little Red Riding Hood from the fairy tale. Only our tale was far more horrific. I shook my head.
Focus, Stefan.

The guards stood at attention. “Yes, miss?” His gaze cut toward Damon suspiciously.

“I brought you cookies, something to say thank you
for your service,” Cora said sweetly, trying to distract their attention from Damon.

“That’s very nice of you, miss,” said one of the guards. “But I’m afraid we can’t accept gifts. I’m sure you understand.”

Damon smoothly stepped in front of Cora, ready to compel. “My sister baked cookies for Mr. Cecil and his staff. She would be most obliged if you would take them, eat what you’d like, and then distribute the rest.”

“All right,” the guard said slowly, reaching toward the basket. “If you insist.”

“Wait!” a tall guard called from across the lawn, marching toward the front door. “Can’t just take anything that’s given. It’s orders to refuse it all. Can’t be too careful.”

Damon swiveled toward this guard, locking eyes. “Take one,” Damon snapped. He was losing his patience. I hoped he would keep it together long enough to get Cora out of there safely.

“Of course. As you were!” The guard saluted his colleagues and turned to take the basket.

“Thank you!” Cora curtsied as the basket was lifted from her hands. The guard took a large bite, a vacant expression on his face as he stared into the distance and chewed.

“Give my regards to the prime minister!” Cora called over her shoulder. The guard nodded as crumbs rained
down into his bushy black beard.

Damon and Cora nodded to each other, partners in crime, as they turned to meet me back behind the tree. We weren’t especially hidden, but the street was crowded, and the guards seemed busier posing for delighted tourists’ entertainment than protecting the door.

“It worked,” Cora breathed.

“Not yet.” Damon set his jaw. “That’s our insurance policy. But we need a main event so we can cash in. We need Samuel to come so we can end this once and for all.”

I slid to the base of the tree and continued to watch the house from a hole in the bushes.

We didn’t have to wait long. As soon as the sun had set and every streaky orange ray had disappeared from the sky, an elegant carriage rode up to the entrance, pulled by two pitch-black horses. Samuel’s coach.

The driver jumped down and set a stool alongside the edge of the passenger car. In a moment, two women stepped out, followed by Lord Ainsley and Samuel. The two women were well dressed, but I didn’t recognize them from the party the night before. I wondered whether they were down-on-their-luck girls from the East End or noblewomen, and then realized it didn’t matter. They were vampires, and vampires crossed all class lines.

“Are you a good girl, Molly?” Samuel asked, caressing
the neck of one of the girls.

“I am
your
good girl,” Molly responded in a singsong voice. She hungrily licked her lips, a clear sign she was ready to feed on anything or anyone.

“And what about you, Josephine?” he asked the other girl lecherously. He was showing off for Lord Ainsley, but I also sensed he enjoyed the act of compelling. That was a difference that made him truly inhuman.

“I’ll do anything you ask,” she purred, lurching toward him and throwing her arms around him.

“I’m glad to hear it from both of you,” Samuel said, gently prying Josephine’s arms off his neck. “But only one of you can be my new right-hand woman. I’ve devised a little test. Would you girls like to hear it?”

Molly nodded eagerly.

“Terrific. Whoever can get inside and have Mr. Robert Cecil come to the door and invite me in will receive a very fine reward indeed. Now go. Make me proud,” he said, sending them both off with a tap on each of their backs.

Molly turned and practically skipped toward the guards. She was humming under her breath, and any casual observer would assume she was drunk. Josephine slowly followed after her, glowering the whole way.

Samuel stepped back toward Lord Ainsley and smiled, as though they were his two prize show ponies being sent into a ring. “Lesson number one, Ainsley. Get the girls to
fight each other. One of them will get us invited inside. Because the only thing more fearsome than a vampire is two female vampires with something to prove.” The two men guffawed as hatred welled within me. I wanted to spring forward now and tear Samuel limb by limb. I wanted to pluck his heart from his chest with my bare hands, then parade it around town.

“Coward!” Damon hissed. I’m sure he was having similar revenge fantasies.

Cora shook her head, then held her hands together as if in prayer.

The two women approached the guards, neither of them seeming especially aware of the fact that this was the prime minister’s home or that it required more security than a simple residence.

“Hold up!” a guard called, raising his arm toward Molly.

“I need to get in,” she said slowly. Each word was over-enunciated. The guard’s gaze flicked to his partner, then locked on to her. I held my breath. The vervain would protect the guard from compulsion. But what would Samuel do when he realized they’d been dosed? It wouldn’t take long.

Cora gripped my arm so tightly her nails dug into my skin.

Quickly realizing her Power wasn’t working, Molly
made her exit and shuffled back to the waiting coach. Josephine seized her opportunity and ran, shrieking, up the path to the guards. “Help! Please! I need help!”

“What’s the matter, miss?” the guard asked, focusing his attention on Josephine.

“I’m being chased!” she said in a breathy voice. “This man has been running after me for blocks—I’m afraid he’s the Ripper! Please, help me.”

The guards turned to each other and had a hushed conversation before the guard stepped aside and nodded to Josephine.

A crack of thunder followed by scattered drops of rain sealed the decision.

“All right, come in,” he offered, opening the door and ushering her inside.

The door closed with a thud. Damon and I locked eyes. Josephine had gotten in, and there was nothing my brother or I could do about it.

“Cora, you’ll have to go in after her. Stefan and I won’t be able to compel our way inside without an invitation,” Damon said under his breath.

Cora nodded, but she was visibly nervous. I grabbed her hand and squeezed it once to comfort her, before we stealthily made our way along the line of bushes toward the back of the house. Samuel’s hawklike gaze was trained on the front door, so we slipped by unnoticed. Around
the perimeter of the lawn, large plants were covered with heavy burlap sacks to protect them from the frost. In the darkness, the covered plants looked like tombstones.

“I’ll get rid of the guard,” Damon said tersely as he brushed the dirt off his hands and strode up to the man protecting the home’s back entrance. Midway up the slate path, he locked eyes with him.

“You need to leave this post,” he said.

“Who are you, sir?” The man squinted suspiciously at Damon as he reached for the nightstick that hung by his side. The compulsion wasn’t working.

Without bothering to answer, Damon charged toward him at vampire speed and knocked him to the ground, his head smashing into the stone. His body fell limp.

Cora’s hand flew to her mouth in fear. “Is he dead?” she asked.

“No,” I said, hoping that was the truth. I squinted and saw the man’s chest rising and falling. He was merely unconscious.

I raced up the garden path with Cora, not wanting to waste another second. I was simultaneously horrified and impressed by Damon’s quick actions. I sometimes forgot that we didn’t always need to rely on magic or compulsion to get what we wanted.

Another crack of thunder sounded, and Damon quickly punched a downstairs window during the noise.
Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked. Damon turned toward us, his eyes wild.

“You don’t have much time,” Damon said, grabbing a fallen tree branch and cracking it over his knee. He handed it to Cora. “Go in and kill the vampire. And then we’ll kill Samuel.”

I shot him a look. Leave it to Damon to be as delicate about our situation as possible.

“Cora.” I turned to her. “You’ll be great. You’re strong. But if there’s any hint of danger, promise me you’ll run right back here. We can figure out another way.”

Cora nodded resolutely and hoisted herself through the broken window.

“And now, the games
really
begin.” Damon slid into a seated position next to me. He rifled through his pocket until he found a small pouch of chewing tobacco. “Want some?” he asked, like we were just two men whiling away the hours.