Thicker Than Blood (Marchwood Vampire Series #2) (19 page)

This hotel, The Old Bell, was
Morris’ local. It had once been a normal pub, but had since been
converted into a posh hotel. Morris and his drinking buddies still
came here on a regular basis. A horrible thought crept into Ben’s
mind. But surely … No. It couldn’t be. No. Not
Morris
.

*

The others would not be happy with him. No.
they would be furious and they would be worried, but it was a small
price to pay to keep them safe. Alexandre had lied to them. What
other option had there been? He had already tried to tell them he
wanted to go to the underground city alone, but they hadn’t
listened. They didn’t realise it was the best plan for everybody.
And so when they had argued, he’d pretended to capitulate. He told
them they were right. That he would wait until tomorrow and then
they would all go to the city together.

Isobel in particular had been relieved.
She’d been working herself up into a bit of a frenzy, but now she
was calm again. Well, as calm as she could be here in Turkey where
the memories threatened to suffocate them all. He’d told them he
wanted to be alone tonight, to give him a chance to plan tomorrow’s
meeting. It had sounded a weak excuse to his own ears and he wasn’t
sure the others would buy it. But they had been so relieved he
wasn’t going to do anything rash and foolish, that they hadn’t
questioned him further.

And here he was now, about to do something
rash and foolish. Alexandre smiled grimly to himself. He just hoped
the others wouldn’t do anything stupid, like follow him. He was so
annoyed with himself. He should’ve done this on day one. As soon as
Blythe had confirmed where Maddy was being held he should’ve jumped
on a plane and flown straight here. Why had he spent so much time
deliberating? He was an idiot. He didn’t need to work out a plan;
he just needed to get her back. But he had allowed the others to
talk him out of it. Well no more. Tonight he would act.

The scent of snow hung in the air, an
expectant hush which cleared his mind and calmed his body. Tonight
he felt invincible. The Cappadocians would not prevent him from
reaching her. He would tear them apart. He knew he was capable of
it. They might be older and more powerful, but they didn’t have his
motivation. To them, Madison was merely part of a larger plan, but
to Alexandre, she was everything. He was running on anger,
desperation and love.

Would they try to stop him before he reached
the city? He expected so, but as yet he could detect no scent of
them. And now here came the silent snow. Sparse at first, but then
thicker and faster, settling on the rocky earth and smoothing the
landscape into soft curves.

Despite the snow-changed scenery, Alexandre
knew the way. He remembered intimately the place of his
hopes-turned-to-nightmares. It was the last place he had seen his
parents alive. Afterwards, Leonora and Freddie’s father, Harold,
had destroyed the entrance to the city, blowing it to hell with
dynamite and concealing its hidden danger from the world. But
Alexandre was confident there would be another way in. He would dig
down with his bare hands if he had to.

He quickly arrived at the
place, but there was still no sign of another vampire. Was it a
trap? But even as he scented the area for signs of life, he was
overwhelmed with memories. Everything here was as he remembered it.
How strange. He had thought to find it changed – modernised
somehow, perhaps even paved over by a new town. But here was the
same stand of trees, now leafless and snow-covered. The small
hillock over there, behind which their tents had been pitched. And
here was the area where the fire pit had once sat, everyone huddled
around its warmth on those long ago chilly spring evenings. The
delicious smells of a well-deserved supper curling into their
nostrils after a hard day’s work. He recalled the
good-humoured
banter, the disagreements and the endless
planning of the two archaeologist families and the fearless Turkish
guards who soon became their friends. But tonight, the snow fell
onto silence.

Alexandre remembered it all as if it was
yesterday. How his human self had been so full of ambition and
excitement at what treasures they might discover here. But all
those hopes and plans had come to nothing, turned to dust and death
and destruction. And still it continued. Would there be no let up?
Would the taste of ash follow him across the centuries forever?

No time to dwell.

The snow had blanketed everything, but he
quickly found the place where the ventilation shaft had once been.
The secret entrance to the underground city. Now, all that could be
seen of it was a deep depression in the ground. And still no scent
of another vampire came to him. How curious. He had expected
nothing less than a heavy guard in this place. The shaft was long
gone and so Alexandre began to dig.

Beneath the thin layer of snow, lay a swathe
of thick ice and he smashed it with his heel and elbow. Under that
sat a mixture of hard earth and soft rock. He tunneled through it
in minutes, throwing the earth up and out of the hole as he dug,
until he finally came up against solid bedrock. Now he changed from
digging downwards, to digging horizontally. He tried in several
directions, each time meeting the same solid rock. Eventually he
found what he was looking for – rock, but hand-carved to a smooth
finish. He cleared an area, exposing a wall of this smooth rock.
Then he placed his hands on the centre of it and he pushed
sideways.

Alexandre hoped this would work. If it
didn’t, he wasn’t sure what else he would be able to do. The slab
of rock he was pushing against was one of the old stone wheels used
to seal off the underground passageways. No human had the power to
wheel it open from the wrong side, but Alex was sure he could do
it. And now he felt a slight give. There was a rumble and he was
showered with yet more earth and stones as the millstone rocked
aside.

The passageway on the other side was clear
and Alexandre stepped through, spitting dirt and wiping mud from
his eyes and ears. He was in. But there was no time to congratulate
himself, for suddenly he could sense them coming from all
directions. They would be with him in a matter of seconds.

Alexandre looked around and weighed up his
options. He couldn’t run now and he didn’t want to. A friendly
conversation would be the best approach; one in which he could
glean as much information as possible.

The corridor stretched out in front of him,
with rooms and other passageways branching off it. There was no
light, but Alexandre did not need it. He could see, hear and sense
everything clearly.

They arrived, fangs gleaming and then
instantly sheathed. There were six in all and he recognised none of
them. These were younger than the others, less controlled, but not
as strong. Hostility radiated from them.

‘
Who are you?’ a young
female demanded.

‘
Alexandre Chevalier. I
have come for Madison Greene.’ His voice was low and calm. ‘Sorry,
I’m a little early,’ he added.

The vampires stepped aside as another
appeared. This one Alexandre knew. It was Sergell, from last
night’s encounter.

‘
Actually,’ Sergell
replied. ‘Although you are unfashionably early, you are also too
late.’

A chill like a cold stone dropped into
Alexandre’s stomach.

‘
What do you mean, ‘too
late’?’

‘
I mean, you are too late.
She is gone.’

Chapter Twenty Three

Cappadocia, 575 AD

*

The horse was fast and Aelia felt safe on
his warm back. Lowering her head into his mane, she savoured the
mix of sweet fresh air and horsey scent. She tried to enjoy the
speed and freedom, to ignore the fate she was riding towards,
willingly. She could end it now. Turn around and return to the
widow’s cave. But no, it was too late even for that.

After Widow Maleina had explained what Aelia
must do, she had banished her from the cave and told her not to
return. But Aelia had wanted to say thank you, to say goodbye
properly. The widow had turned away and made to walk off, but Aelia
had grabbed her sleeve to make her stop. When the widow faced her,
Aelia saw her eyes were heavily bloodshot and that she had
glistening beads of sweat on her forehead. She let go of her sleeve
as she realised – the widow had been infected. She had the blood
plague.

Aelia had cried out and tried to think of
something to say, but words failed her and all she could do was
stare in horror.

‘
I am an old woman,’ the
widow had mumbled through the cloth she still wore over her mouth
and nose.

‘
But surely you must be
able to cure it …’

‘
I could not make the new
infection without exposing myself. And I told you there is no cure.
It is unfortunate.’

‘
But this is my fault,’
Aelia cried. ‘If I had not insisted on going …’

‘
This is nothing to do
with you, my dear. This is time and fate and happenings far beyond
your influence. Come now, you have much to do and very little time
to do it in. You must leave this place or all our plans will be for
nothing. God be with you, child and remember everything I told
you.’

Now, on her way back to her village, guilt
swamped Aelia and she urged her horse ever faster to try to shake
off these heavy feelings. As if the wind could blow away her
regrets and fears. But soon her horse would stop and she would
reach her destination and there would be no getting away from her
destiny. She would have to face goodness knows what. There was
still the chance that Widow Maleina was mistaken, but Aelia had to
prepare herself for the worst. And aside from the demons, there was
still Lysus to face and the rest of the village who would all be
passing judgement, no doubt.

Her father’s map was detailed and easy to
follow. It took her away from the main routes, through narrow rocky
passes and desolate stretches of scrubland. Her main concern was
for bandits and she constantly scanned the horizon for dust clouds
and movement. She silently thanked the widow for providing her with
a horse. It made her feel so much safer and not so alone.

They stopped at a shallow stream where they
both drank and rested. For a brief moment, as she stood, staring at
the wide blue sky and listening to the birds chirping, she felt
alright. Not frightened or panicky about what lay ahead. She patted
her steed’s neck.

‘
What’s your name, boy?’
she murmured.

The horse blew out through his nose and
stamped his foot.

‘
I can’t think of a
fitting enough name for you. You’re my hero anyway, my horsey
friend.’ She kissed his velvety nose and sighed. She should be
terrified, but instead she just felt anxious to get there, to know
what the future held for her. This not knowing was awful. ‘Ten
minutes rest and then we’ll go,’ she said. According to the map,
they were a little over halfway there.

The miles were falling away now and dusk was
creeping up to meet them. It was lucky she hadn’t come across
anyone on her journey. Perhaps they were all below the ground.
Maybe she and the widow were the only ones left on the surface.
That was a strange thought. As her horse’s hooves flew across the
dusty ground, Aelia couldn’t help picturing the thousands of people
down there below them. Were they all contentedly settling in to
their new home? Or were they trapped and terrified? She had to
reach her family before it was too late.

It was dark when she neared her destination.
Aelia dismounted and tethered her horse to a tree out of sight a
few hundred yards away. She decided she would sit and rest for a
few moments before approaching the cave. She needed to gather her
nerve and go over the plan in her mind once more. During the
journey, her mind had either been a jumbled mass of thoughts, or
empty of everything. Now, she needed to order her brain and steady
herself. The horse nickered softly and she stroked his mane.

‘
I’ll have to leave you
soon,’ she whispered. ‘You’ll be fine.’

Aelia sat cross-legged on the ground,
leaning against the tree. Earlier, before she left, the widow had
given her a small leather bag containing a few provisions and now
Aelia loosened its drawstring. She pulled out her waterskin and
took a long drink. Again she reached inside the bag and felt around
until her hand closed around the small brown box. She drew it out
and stared at it under the moon’s bright glow. Such an innocuous
looking thing, but the widow’s plan hinged on its contents. Aelia
shuddered at the thought of what it contained. So many things could
go wrong. She tucked the box inside her robe and secured it against
her body with a long piece of cloth which she tied in a knot.

A rush of air flew past her face, and then
another - bats. Aelia didn’t mind the tiny fluttering creatures.
She thought of them as large moths or night birds. Harmless. Aside
from their swooping antics, the night was silent. No chirruping
cicadas or other animal cries. Just the quiet night.

‘
Hello.’

Aelia jumped, startled to her feet by the
voice which was calm and amused. She turned and looked around, but
could see no one.

Then, out of the gloom, a man stepped
forward. Her horse whinnied and Aelia held onto his rearing head to
calm him.

‘
It’s late for a girl to
be out on her own,’ the man said. He kept his distance and made no
move to come closer.

Aelia’s first instinct was to jump onto her
horse and gallop away. This man was on foot and she could easily
outpace him. But she couldn’t leave now. She had to get into the
underground city. Perhaps the man was a guard, but somehow she
didn’t think so. He was dressed too richly and spoke with an accent
she couldn’t place. Was he one of the invaders? He didn’t look
threatening.