Chapter 30
Two vacant looking Human thralls led us back inside the manor house and up the curved staircase to the first floor. We followed down a long corridor of Imperial era paintings of wooden battleships and uniformed men on horseback. The thralls pushed open a set of cream double doors to reveal the central room of a lavish guest apartment with corridors leading off to multiple bedrooms. The two eerily silent young men turned and left us alone.
Vincent strolled across the polished floor and reclined onto one of the long white sofas positioned around the focal point of a huge marble fireplace. Tables carved from pale elm were placed around the room and an antique piano stood by the tall window. He poured himself a glass of port from a crystal decanter on a side table and evidently quite pleased with himself settled in for a comfortable recess until negotiations continued. Josephine could not have been a more striking contrast. She stormed over to Vincent, snatched the glass from his hand and swallowed the contents in a single gulp. She was shaking violently.
"Z'at was 'im", she said, refilling Vincent's glass from the decanter.
"Who?" asked Vincent.
Josephine ignored him. She grasped George's forearm and looked deep into his eyes. He said nothing but I could see from his change in expression that he understood. George's eyes softened as he looked back sympathetically and removed Josephine's hand from his arm to hold it gently in his own.
Josephine snatched her hand away. She did not want sympathy, she wanted action.
"Who was him?" Vincent asked again.
Josephine was too shaken to answer so I did.
"Verenious is the Elder who ordered the purge at the end of the war", I said.
Vincent looked back blankly.
"He did z'is!" Josephine screamed, sweeping her wild red hair from her face to point at the scarred and paralysed half of her face.
Visibly conflicted, George had begun to pace back and forth in front of the ostentatious fireplace. He lusted after freedom from the servitude of the last century, wanting nothing more than to disappear and live quietly with his long lost wife. But he knew that Josephine could not be content before she had revenge on those who had separated them and destroyed her face. He knew that she had to kill Verenious, but that her revenge would obliterate any chance of a peace treaty with the Elders. Vincent read their intentions and came to the same conclusions as me.
"No," he gasped.
"Yes", Josephine growled. "'e made us kill everyone we knew. 'e used us as 'is weapons".
"He took everything from us", said George.
"It was not just Verenious, you are projecting your anger", Vincent protested. "You are so close to recovering all that you lost, do not let petty revenge ruin everything now".
"Petty revenge?" George roared.
Red in the face and with both hands balled into white-knuckled fists, he quickened the speed of his pacing.
I walked wearily over to the piano, perched on the elm and white leather stool and played a few chords to obscure the noise of the argument from the inevitable eavesdroppers. Vincent, George and Josephine continued to bellow at each other, but like the eavesdroppers I could not pick out distinct words over the tune of the piano.
I had no idea what song I was playing. It had been a century since I had played the instrument yet my fingers found their way among the notes as if I were still fourteen and sitting at my mother's piano. I looked down as my fingers on the piano keys in an attempt to recognise the tune. I noticed that my hands were shaking. I too was conflicted.
Because of Verenious I had been forced to kill innumerable comrades, some of whom I had considered friends. I concluded that I had been in a constant state of shock since that night, which had reduced me into an anonymous homogeneous cog in the infrastructure of The Secret.
My mind made up I stopped playing mid bar, just in time to hear Josephine say,
"I am going to kill 'im, either 'elp or get out of my way".
"I'm in", I said.
The stalemate was broken; the majority had ruled that Verenious must die. Vincent was forced to acquiesce to aid in the murder. The killing of a prominent Elder in a gathering of hundreds of ancient immortal warriors was of course impossible. Our naïve solution was not to think to much about the task, just attack. We would likely be dead soon and therefore not have to worry about the consequences. The last fortnight of meticulous plotting and scheming had got us this far. Our impulsive revenge attack put all that we had worked for in jeopardy, but it was necessary. We wanted a peace treaty but there was no peace to be had with Verenious, therefore he must die.
Decision made; we sat in silence. Time taunted us by taking an extraordinary age to for the sun to rise. Finally we heard the unmistakably beautiful sound of birdsong and so set off with our loose plan.
The four of us crept back along the long corridors to the gallery landing. We could hear the chatter and laughter of the approaching Elders. Predictably they had continued to party until moments before sunrise and now reluctantly retreated inside for a nightcap.
We hid behind one of ornate doors at the top of the stairs. Josephine peered through a crack between the door and the frame, to scan the crowd, searching for our prey. I was close behind her, trying to peer through the gap as well. I felt her muscles tense and knew she had spotted him. The voices began to pass us by. The stream of intoxicated Elders chatted about particularly inventive and painful ways in which Abiowe and Verenious should kill us.
Finally I recognised Verenious' strange Mediterranean accent. Josephine opened the door wider and slipped out into the crowd as it filed past. The rest of us followed. I squeezed in between two groups of Elders and tried to avoid eye contact. Fortunately they were far too preoccupied with their posturing and social climbing to notice me.
"There will be a s-spectacle of cours-se?" asked an Elder in an elegant purple cocktail dress, her dark hair tied up in an ornate bun.
"Naturally my dear", said one of her companions.
"I s-say a gladiatorial games. The reward for the victors-s is-s to continue to live and s-serve", said a third in a clipped English accent.
"That will be s-so dull", said the Elder in the cocktail dress. "I want to s-see the emotion, the drama... like at the opera".
As the group advanced through the labyrinth of corridors, several Elders split off. The men would part from each other by grasping and shaking the other's forearm. The women would kiss each other on each cheek.
Ahead of me I could see Josephine's bright red hair. I assumed her to be directly behind Verenious. She peeled off and headed up a second smaller staircase. I followed and heard the other two behind me. By the time I caught up with her she was standing in front of a closed door which was painted white with gold carved inlay.
"Zis is it", she whispered.
Through force of habit I reached behind my back to draw my knife, but found only an empty sheathe. We had left all of our weapons in the taxi with Andre and Killer-Bee. The four of us waited there in front of the door to Verenious' private quarters, summoning the courage to strike.
Josephine put her ear to the door to listen for signs of life. Satisfied that we had waited long enough, she snapped off the door lock.
Josephine, George and I, well practised in silent infiltration, slipped like shadows across the threshold. Vincent followed clumsily behind. We emerged into a far grander version of the apartment which we had been allocated. The large central room was upholstered with rich mahogany furniture positioned around the giant fireplace, above which a gleamed a huge mirror. Gold framed paintings covered every wall and reached up to the high ceiling, which was itself beautifully gilded. The four of us separated to search each branching corridor for our target.
After each of the smaller bedrooms had been searched and found to be as empty as the grand central room, we advanced cautiously to the double doors of the master bedroom. Finding it locked, Vincent pulled off the door handle and we spilled inside. The master bedroom was almost entirely filled by a giant four poster bed covered in red satin sheets and dozens of embroidered pillows. I spotted the linen suit Verenious had been wearing at the parlé, folded neatly at the foot of the bed. The Elder himself was nowhere to be seen. At the far side of the room were two white doors. Vincent reached the left one first and slowly opened it to reveal a walk in wardrobe. Josephine went straight for the second. The rest of us followed closely behind her.
This door led into an en-suite bathroom. The walls and floor were covered in white tiles and the marble fittings were decorated with gold taps. A glossy white shower curtain hung from gold railings near a large oval bath under a window obscured by a thick blind. The bath was full to the brim with water. Under the surface lay Verenious, as still and pale as a sunken marble statue.
I looked to Josephine to silently signal a plan of attack, but she had already sprinted forwards, her feet echoing across the tiles. She reached the bath in seconds but that was nowhere near fast enough. Verenious had felt the vibrations from under the water and emerged like a demon from the deep. Water splashed in all directions as he burst through the surface. Josephine threw herself forwards.
With his eyes still closed, Verenious thrust his hand forwards and grasped Josephine's throat. All her forward momentum dissipated and she dangled harmlessly from his outstretched hand. Before the rest of us had made it across the room, Verenious,waist-deep in water, had dashed Josephine face first into the bathroom wall and flung her against the ceiling. She scratched and thrashed to no avail except to become entangled in the shower curtain. She hit the ground hard and tore the railing from the ceiling.
Verenious leapt out of the bath and kicked a charging Vincent in the chest in a single fluid movement. Vincent crashed backwards into the door, tearing it from its hinges.
Verenious wet feet slapped onto the tiles. George and I attacked together. We punched and slashed and kicked as hard and fast as we could, but Verenious was too quick for us both. He blocked every blow and hit back with quick stinging jabs of his own. I tried to grab his arm but his dripping wet skin slid through my fingers.
He smiled. I released he was playing with us, allowing us to tire ourselves out.
Vincent ran back into the room and charged once more. Josephine threw off the constricting shower curtain and leapt to her feet. I watched Verenious' eyes dart around the room, analysing the situation.
Vincent reached us and lowered his shoulder to connect with Verenious's stomach, but the Elder moved with such speed that all I saw was a blur. He grabbed the charging Vincent by his jaw and spun before releasing the Rogue, who smashed into the wall, shattering tiles and bouncing off with such force that he cracked the floor. As he had spun, Verenious had caught George in the face with the back of his hand and knocked him to the ground in a daze.
Josephine pounced again from Verenious' flank, but he swiftly dealt with her by a quick elbow to her solar-plexus. She sank to her knees fighting for air.
The Elder turned his full attention to me. He advanced slowly with more than justified confidence and a delighted smile exposing his all of his teeth. His lean naked body glistened with droplets of bathwater.
He had opted to sleep underwater to shield himself from all the background sounds his perfect senses pick up. I could only presume that the other Elders must have been likewise prevented from hearing the racket our disastrous assassination attempt was making.
Verenious was delighted that he alone would have the pleasure of killing us. He had all day until the others would wake; he would not make it quick.
I advanced to meet him, arms raised to protect my face and poised to strike. Verenious merely laughed at my stubbornness. I threw a few punches but he swatted them away.
"Thank you f-for your s-stupidity, the others-s will be so jealous-s", he said, swiping away a slash of my nails, before returning a low blow to my side. I felt a rib snap. Even Verenious' toying blows felt like being stuck with a hammer.
He threw three more quick punches, catching me on both shoulders before a crack between my eyes. I'd been hit by cars with less force I thought, as the world spun and my legs gave way. The ground rushed up to meet me.
From the cold tiled floor the world turned on it's side. I watched Verenious stroll over to Josephine. He pulled her up from the ground by her long hair. I could see her lips move and the hatred in her eyes, but heard no sound of her insults but I felt the vibration through the floor as he flung her against the ground.
Josephine clawed at Verenious hands as he dragged her to the toilet. The Elder tugged on her hair until she raised her head before he dashed it down against the rim. The porcelain cracked. He pulled her hair up and smashed her face down again until the porcelain shattered. A ringing began in my ears and inside my skull. It began to be punctuated by the increasingly distinct repetitive crash of Josephine's skull demolishing the bathroom.
I struggled to retain consciousness, blinking rapidly to shrug off the comfortable darkness that offered to sooth me. My hearing was recovering. Footsteps told me the other two were returning to save Josephine. I pushed myself upright using the wall as support. I looked to the others to see that their rescue attempt had already failed. George had succeed only in replacing Josephine as the victim of Verenious' viscous attack, and Vincent had been returned to the ground, bleeding and dazed.
I scrambled to my feet and stumbled forwards to attack while Verenious was distracted by breaking George's arm. I landed a kick on the side of his knee with my Doc Martins, connecting with enough force to splinter a tree; but Verenious barely noticed and my steel reinforced toe cap bounced off as if his thin legs were hewn from granite.
He dropped George and swiped at my face with his sharp nails. I dodged as fast as I could but felt a burning on my cheek and the hot splutter of spilt blood.
Verenious reached down for a handful of Josephine's hair. He dragged her a few steps over to the less fragile marble sink, intending this time to break her rather than the porcelain toilet. Desperate now, I dived to my right and grasped the bottom of the blinds that covered the window. I went down hard, tearing the blinds off the wall. White hot sunshine burst through the translucent frosted glass of the bathroom window and engulfed us all.
Blinded and dry heaving, I struggled to hold down my stomach contents. Vincent and George backed out of the room on their hands and knees shielding their eyes. Verenious released his grip on Josephine's head, hunched forwards and projectile vomited the feast he had consumed, splattering all the white tiles that lined the room.
The confidence and amusement vanished from his now heavily bloodshot eyes, which filled instead with pain and hatred. Where the sunlight touched his skin, it seemed paper thin and so pale that I could clearly see the blue veins beneath.Drawing on my last reserves of energy in the strength sapping sunlight, I scrambled to my feet, scooped up the metal railing of the shower curtain that Josephine had pulled down and thrust it forwards.
The thin metal pole burst through the tissue paper skin of Verenious' chest and out of his back, where it buried itself between the wall tiles. Verenious hung there, feet kicking just above the ground, flapping like a speared fish. The white shower curtain waved like a flag of surrender from the rail that impaled him.
Cowering under the windowsill with my back pressed against the cold tiles, I tried to hide from the sunlight, but the white surfaces of the room reflected the morning light and filled the air. My head pounded and my vision blurred and swam. I tried to stand but my muscles seized up, my back creaked and I collapsed back into a heap.
"'No...'e is mine", groaned Josephine from the ground. Her shaking legs could not support her weight, so she dragged herself across the floor towards Verenious.
Wide eyed with disbelief, he pawed at the shower curtain that impaled him, but with his strength drained in the bright morning sun, was as helpless as a pinned butterfly in a display case.
Josephine reached Verenious and tugged at the hanging shower curtain to pull herself upright. She scowled and spat in his eye, then dug her nails into the right side of his face. Verenious' screams of agony were drowned out by Josephine's banshee howl. Her nails tore at his skin and muscle until white bone shone from beneath. Satisfied by his disfigurement, she reached out towards George in the doorway. She lacked the energy to speak but he knew what she wanted. George braced himself then stepped forwards into the light. I watched his jaw clench as he struggled not to sink to his knees, but trudge one step at a time towards his wife and the Elder who had separated them all these years.
Josephine sank her teeth into the right side of Verenious' throat, and George attacked the left. Together they thrashed their heads, ripping flesh and cartilage from the sun-sick and impaled Elder. Verenious had ceased to scream, for the holes in his windpipe robbed the air from his last breaths. Propped up by Josephine, George gripped onto Verenious' head with both hands ripped it from his body.
The couple sank exhausted to the ground. Verenious' corpse remained pinned to the bathroom wall, but his head fell from George's hands and rolled over to me. The holes where Verenious' eyes had been stared blankly at me. The skin around his mouth tightened and pulled back his thin blue lips, revealing his twin sets of long and sharp fangs. I looked back to the impaled body to watch it slowly deflate inside the wrinkling and darkening skin. Verenious' rapid desiccation produced a foul smell so pungent that I immediately gagged as it thickened the air.
I tried once more to get to my feet but failed. Vincent stayed in the master bedroom and out of the sunlight. George had got to his feet and was dragging Josephine clear of the room. He propped her up on the chaise lounge at the foot of the late Verenious' four poster bed before returning into the brightly lit bathroom to help me escape the sun.