Thaumatology 12: Vengeance (21 page)

‘Uh-huh. He’s at Acre Lane. Michael’s coming with me. Then we’ll go to Soho. I don’t want Lily coming home alone.’

‘Another late night? You’re supposed to be hosting that conflab at the castle on Sunday.’

Ceri sighed and gulped down more coffee. ‘That’s why I want Lo Chan out of the way before then.’

Brixton.

Ceri had spent a day at Acre Lane Shelter before. Alexandra volunteered her time there, healing people who could not afford magical aid any other way, and Ceri had gone along to help.

Andrea Clancy, the woman who ran the place, met them at the door. She obviously remembered Ceri, giving her a broad smile. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said, ‘we’ve got no one in with withered limbs at the moment.’

Ceri grinned back. ‘I came to see Jehoel. I understand he’s staying here?’

‘Oh, that one. Yeah, we put him up on the top floor. We
do
have a couple of those Lost people in and he seems to calm them down. He’s a weird one. Came in here looking at people as though he didn’t understand why they were here. After a while he asked if he could help so he’s been making tea… Except I had to show him how to do that. He’s not human is he?’

‘Did you see on the news about angels falling to Earth?’

‘He’s one of those? The other one didn’t say much of anything, and then he left and never came back.’

‘Jehoel’s god sent him back in to keep an eye on things.’

‘Huh.’ Clancy turned, heading for the stairs. ‘Oh… he’s been looking paler lately. Is he sick?’

‘Dying,’ Ceri replied flatly. ‘It’s been about ten days so I’d imagine it’s starting to show. If he’s here another twenty or so he’ll be dead.’

The top floor of the building was set aside as an infirmary where the more seriously ill could be isolated for their comfort and everyone else’s safety. There was one room set aside for those who had lost their souls to the drug Oblivion, and that was where Ceri and Michael found Jehoel. He was lying on a bed reading. The Bible, of course. What else would an angel be reading?

‘Ceridwyn Brent, and Michael,’ the angel said. ‘Is there news of a means to end this curse?’

‘I have one of the best thaumatologists in the country working on it, Jehoel,’ Ceri replied. ‘I’m sure he’ll crack the problem soon.’ Her Sight showed her the degradation in his medians. After less than two weeks she could see dark strands in his body bridge and the energy flow in his chakral median was fluctuating. His tantric median still seemed strong, however. ‘How are you feeling?’ she asked.

‘I am feeling…’ He looked down at the book in his lap as though it might give him inspiration. ‘I am feeling emotional. I feel that I am unbalanced. I find myself… worrying for these mortals. I wonder what will happen to
me
should I remain here too long.’

‘You can always leave. Come back again when you’ve recovered.’

He shook his head. ‘I was told to stay.’

Obedience to the bitter end. ‘Well, there’s something else you can help me with, and it might get us closer to solving your problem. We think we know
why
this was done. Someone working for an Ancient did it so he wouldn’t have to deal with angels while he took over the city’s drug trade. What do you know about Ancients?’

‘What every angel does. They are an abomination before God.’

‘I was told that they were made by fusing a demon into a vampire.’ Jehoel gave a nod. ‘Is it a true fusion? Are they actually part demon? Or is it more like a possession?’

‘They are a melding. The demon is effectively destroyed in the process, though the exact form varies between Ancients. The…
thing
responsible for them liked to experiment. Each is a little different, caused by the means by which the fusion was performed.’

Ceri smiled. ‘So the nature of the demon, rather than the actual demon, is transferred into the vampire?’

‘Aspects of its powers and some of its personality traits, yes. The personality aspects are the most variable.’

‘Thank you, Jehoel, you’ve been a big help.’

The angel gave her a nod and, to her surprise, a small smile, before returning to his reading.

‘How does that help?’ Michael asked as they trooped back down the stairs.

‘Lo Chan, and Hildegard Braun for that matter, aren’t that much different from Lily,’ Ceri replied. ‘They’re part demon.’

‘So…?’

‘So spells meant to control and contain demons will work on them, just like they would on Lily.’

Soho.

Alec looked up as Ceri and Michael walked up to the bar, gave them a nod, and pointed toward the bottles at the back.

‘Not tonight,’ Ceri replied. ‘Maybe one before we go, but we’re on guard duty.’

The werewolf gave a grunt of approval. ‘Gwyn called. Says your expert thinks he’s solved the cube thing. He’s catching a train in the morning.’

‘Huh, I’d better warn Cheryl.’ She looked toward Carter at the end of the bar. ‘Can we use your office, boss? We can’t sit here in jeans and I need to call Cheryl about Ed.’

‘You realise you might have to hold me off him as well?’ Carter replied. ‘I’ll come through with you, there’s something I need to discuss. Alec, you’ve got things for ten minutes?’

Alec raised an eyebrow. ‘We need you here for something other than looking pretty?’

‘I pay the wages,’ Carter grumbled before starting for the back of the club.

Ceri pulled her T-shirt off as soon as the door was closed. Carter closed his eyes and then turned his back. It would have been amusing, given that the man was known as a playboy, were it not for the fact that Ceri found it embarrassing to see him in any form of undress.

‘What was it you wanted to tell me?’ Ceri asked.

‘I’ve been hearing some rumours,’ Carter replied. ‘Our mutual friends from the Archmage Club have been asking questions I don’t like the sound of.’

Ceri paused with her jeans around her ankles. ‘What kind of questions?’

‘Questions which suggest they’re trying to verify whether you have some form of power over demons. I think they may be trying to get leverage to break their deal. If they think you’re pacted…’

Slipping her jeans off, Ceri held out a hand for the dress Michael was taking out of the bag he had been carrying. There were slightly more club-oriented jeans and shirt for him in there too. ‘I could live without them messing me about just now, but I’m not sure I’ve time to worry over it.’

‘Do you mind if I do?’ Carter asked.

‘No. I’ve got everyone except Alec working on something for me, why not you too? You can turn around now.’

Carter turned. The dress was low-cut and very short, showing off her long legs. ‘I’m not entirely sure that’s much better,’ he said, smiling. ‘Ask Cheryl if she wants to come here to talk over Professor Perry’s return to our good graces.’

‘I will,’ Ceri said as she padded across the plush carpet to the desk.

~~~

‘To be honest,’ Cheryl said as she sipped wine at the bar, ‘I’m glad.
I
don’t have actual memories of what I went through. I know it could have been over faster if he’d said something, but all I really
feel
is that my friend is persona non grata. I wish he wasn’t.’

Carter gave a grunt. ‘I suppose… If you’re willing to forgive him, I should at least be civilised about it.’ He looked across the bar to where Alec was cleaning perfectly clean glasses.

‘I promise not to rip his throat out,’ the bartender said. ‘That’s the best I can do at this stage.’

‘Very magnanimous of you, old friend.’

‘I figure,’ Ceri said, ‘that if I blame Ed for what happened to Cheryl, I have to blame Mei for what happened to me. And I do, sort of, but I put her up in my house…’

‘It’s easier to forgive someone for something that happened to you,’ Michael commented. ‘If a friend suffers, you’ve got that guilty feeling that maybe you could have stopped it… Makes it harder to forgive.’

‘That’s pretty profound, kid,’ Alec commented. ‘I should stop calling you that now you’re old like me.’

‘The only werewolf I know as old as you is Alexandra,’ Ceri told him.

‘She’s got nearly twenty years on me.’ He paused in his glass wiping. ‘Goddess, I’ll be hitting the century in three years.’

Everyone blinked at that. ‘Well,’ Carter said after a second or two, ‘I don’t know about everyone else, but I suddenly feel very young.’

Kennington, April 19
^th
.

There were odd sounds coming from the study when Ceri, Lily, and Michael got home, and there was Twill at the bottom of the stairs.

‘It’s Lorna,’ the fairy said. ‘She’s cleaning the book shelves.’

‘At four in the morning?’ Michael asked.

‘I think you should talk to her, Ceri.’

Ceri sighed and nodded. ‘Go to bed. I’ll be up shortly.’

The tall vampire, dressed in a little camisole top which did little to hide her chest and a pair of boy shorts, was indeed dusting the bookshelves with the air of someone who wanted something mind-numbing to do. Despite her senses, which were generally better than a human’s, she entirely failed to notice Ceri entering the room. Or perhaps she chose not to notice.

‘Trouble sleeping?’ Ceri asked.

‘Not exactly. Trouble dreaming.’

Ceri sat down on the chaise, crossing her legs and leaning against the back. ‘I get that a lot. Being with Lily helps.’

The duster stopped moving. ‘I can’t talk to John about it. I don’t know whether he’s figured it out… You…’ Lorna turned and walked over to sit down beside Ceri. Her hands continued to fidget with the feathers. ‘Lo Chan had me for a couple of days before he turned me.’

‘Uh-huh, you said he… oh.’

‘I couldn’t resist him. He made me do… things. When he wasn’t there he had me chained, naked, in a corner. When he was there I did whatever he wanted, no matter how much I hated it. He didn’t make me
want
to do it, he just made me submit. When I’d got over being turned, it still took months to get over the degradation… And what finally made it go away was the knowledge that it wasn’t real. He’d just made me
think
I was doing it because he was an old vampire, too rotten to actually…’

‘But he’s an Ancient,’ Ceri whispered.

‘It was all real! Everything he did. Everything he made me do.’ Her voice cracked up and Ceri looped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in so that she had a place to cry.

‘It’s not easy,’ Ceri said. ‘I know it’s not, but you’re strong. Stronger than John likes to admit. Tomorrow I’ll see to it that he never does anything like that again.’

‘You’re going to kill him?’

‘I’m going to do something worse than kill him.’

Lorna sucked in a lungful of air, controlling her breathing, and straightened up. ‘Good,’ she said.

North Greenwich.

‘Perry’s sure he’s got this cube figured out?’ John asked as they waited.

‘He seems happy with his analysis,’ Gwyn replied. ‘Thank you for arranging his escort from the station.’

‘Technically, Hecks did that.’

Gwyn looked at the other detective in the room across the street from Lo Chan’s new home. ‘Thank you, Detective.’

‘Just doing my job. Can’t have him getting hurt if anything gets out about why he’s coming here. Where’s Brent anyway?’

‘Ceri is watching the rear of the building,’ Gwyn replied. ‘He will try to escape.’

‘Twelve-thirty,’ John said. ‘Let’s move.’

Nodding, Gwyn turned and walked out of the room. Two floors down she stepped out onto the street beside a nervous-looking tactical officer holding a grenade launcher. She smiled at him, placing one hand on his shoulder. Her other hand held a ball of incandescent, blue-white energy, but her touch seemed to steady his nerves.

‘Are we ready, Detective Radcliff?’ Gwyn asked.

‘All units are reporting ready,’ John replied.

Gwyn looked down at the man kneeling at her feet. ‘If you would, Sergeant?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ The policeman aimed his weapon at one of the windows on the ground floor opposite them and fired off two quick rounds. The window held up to the impacts well enough, even if it allowed the projectiles through. It gave up when the two stun grenades actually went off and Gwyn launched her own weapon in through the gap. For a second it seemed like nothing was happening and then the ball of light expanded, tearing through the building’s interior. There was a rumbling sound which turned into crashing, and dust billowed out through the broken window as sections of the upper floors collapsed into the evacuated space below.

‘Holy shit!’ John breathed.

‘You can come on more of our ops, ma’am,’ the Sergeant said, looking at his grenade launcher and shaking his head.

‘I suggest you move in, Detective,’ Gwyn said, ‘though I expect that our target is already making a run for it.’