Scenting Hallowed Blood (17 page)

‘You must be good at
scrounging,’ Daniel said as he spilled out of the cab into the
street.

Jack laughed. ‘Yeah, I am.
Very.’

Jack’s apartment was spacious
and modern, a converted docks building. Daniel wandered around the
enormous living-space while Jack poured drinks. Daniel fell onto a
sofa, which was covered with an ethnic print rug. Jack summoned
him.

‘Not here. My room. More
private.’

Daniel frowned. ‘You said you
lived alone.’

‘A lie. I share. A small lie.
Come on.’

Jack’s room was bare and sleek;
stripped pine and floor cushions. The bed, unmade, was a mattress
on the floor, but lacked all the connotations of poverty associated
with the floor mattresses at the Assembly Rooms. CDs were scattered
everywhere, out of their cases. Jack selected one from a pile and
slotted into his CD player, which Daniel noticed was filmed with a
layer of dust. Soft, ambient music filled the room.

‘Why are you sober?’ Daniel
complained, accepting another glass of bourbon from Jack.

‘I’m not. Well, some thoughts
just make you sober.’ Jack sat down beside him on the bed. Daniel
slumped down and put his head in Jack’s lap, gazing up at his
face.

‘Don’t be so serious.’

Jack stroked his face, summoned
a smile. ‘Sorry.’ He paused, then said, ‘Daniel, I want you to know
about what happened to me, how I ended up half crazy...’

‘Don’t!’ Daniel put his hands
over his ears, closed his eyes. ‘Please don’t. Not now.’

‘But it’s important...
relevant. Look, my name’s not Jack, it’s Taziel, Taziel
Levantine.’

Daniel felt the name should
mean something, but it didn’t. ‘So? Why did you pretend to be
someone else?’

‘You’ve not heard the name
before?’

Daniel frowned and shook his
head. ‘I don’t think so.’ He grinned. ‘Why, should I have?’

Taziel shrugged uneasily.
‘Well... I don’t know. I thought, maybe, you’d picked my name up
psychically.’ His voice was lame, but Daniel failed to register
it.

‘Look, I don’t care. I don’t
get a bad feeling off you. I feel safe.’

‘This isn’t you talking. You’re
off your face!’

Daniel laughed. ‘True, but it
makes no difference. Look, Jack, Taziel, whatever, I don’t want
your angst. You can hear my thoughts! Don’t you know what that
means to me? I want to touch you. I want to live this moment to its
ultimate potential.’ If there were alarm bells ringing within him,
the drink and the smoke had soundproofed them out. All he could
think about was the freedom of being away from Shem and the others
and being able to do as he liked.

Taziel sighed and reached out
to stroke his face. ‘OK. We’ll talk later when you’ve sobered
up.’

‘Take advantage of me,’ Daniel
said. ‘You have my permission.’ He wriggled upwards and pushed
Taziel back onto the bed.

‘We share certain things, in
our pasts,’ Taziel said.

A glimmer of understanding
flashed across Daniel’s mind. ‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Not yet.’ He
didn’t want to know, because he was afraid it would change
everything. He lay on top of Taziel, looking into his face, which
was tawny in the lamplight. ‘Don’t spoil everything. This is my
first night of freedom in a long time.’

‘The last time you had sex, you
were raped.’

‘Stop it!’

‘No, I can see that, don’t you
understand? I know!’

‘It’s over. Whatever happened
to either of us is over. I want to forget it. Help me do that.
Didn’t you say we could help each other?’

Taziel closed his eyes, reached
up to Daniel’s face with his long hands. ‘Oh yes. I did. And we
can. But I don’t want you to end up hating me.’

‘I won’t. Why should I?’

Taziel blinked and smiled
sadly. ‘It happens,’ he said.

‘Whatever you’ve lived through,
whoever you are, I promise not to hate you,’ Daniel said, and
before Taziel could say anything else, covered his mouth with his
own. Silent words passed into Daniel’s throat. He would not
recognise them. They could not possibly feel like the shape of
Peverel Othman’s name.

Aninka and Lahash left Taziel at around
eight o’clock. He was in the process of taking great care in
readying himself for his night out. Aninka felt uneasy. She knew
that Taziel wasn’t as tough as he made out, and that he, of all of
them, had probably suffered the most damage at the hands of Peverel
Othman. She realised that, despite Lahash’s misgivings, she’d have
to be present when he spoke to Daniel, if only to look after
Taziel. It was unlikely she could exert any control over Lahash,
but perhaps her mere presence might temper his methods of
extracting information from the boy.

The evening grovelled by,
minute after endless minute. Lahash had taken Aninka to a small,
avant garde theatre, but she could not concentrate on the play. The
actors spoke incomprehensible gibberish in a manner she supposed
was meaningful, but to her it was too contrived. Angst over modern
relationships meant nothing in the face of monstrous realities like
the existence of Shemyaza. Even now, she found it hard to believe,
and suspected, even hoped, that when Shemyaza was found, it would
simply be Peverel Othman; a little more insane, and certainly more
dangerous, but nothing more powerful than he had been before. If
the spirit of such a great archetype was to reincarnate, why would
it choose the corrupt body of Othman? Shemyaza had died for love:
Othman could only murder for it.

At eleven, Lahash took her to a
cramped, private drinking club, situated above a Greek restaurant.
It was owned and frequented by city Grigori, with some of whom
Lahash appeared to have a slight acquaintance, although none of
them invaded the space of their table, huddled beside a narrow
window. A candle glowed in a glass globe between them as they
sipped an antique brandy. Below, gangs of young people surged up
and down the narrow street; their noise was aggressive,
threatening, but perhaps they were simply enjoying themselves.
Aninka nodded in the right places as Lahash talked about the play.
She realised, dully, that he had hoped to impress her with his
knowledge of the arts. Presumably, although she could not remember,
she must have told him that she and Taz spent most of their
evenings this way. With Taz, she might have enjoyed the production.
They would certainly have enjoyed bitching about it afterwards.

At half past midnight, Lahash
suggested they seek out a Chinese cafe he frequented, and eat.
Aninka agreed to this, thinking that soon this mimicry of
entertainment would finish, and the grisly business would begin.
She was beginning to feel nauseous.

However, at the threshold of
the cafe, which was not far from the club they’d just left, Lahash
paused.

‘What’s the matter?’ Aninka
asked too quickly, remembering his earlier words about
surveillance. She glanced around herself tensely.

Lahash looked at her. ‘Nothing.
Look, I think we should go back to your place now.’

‘It’s not time,’ Aninka
said.

‘I know, but we should still go
back.’

‘Taz won’t be pleased if we get
there before him.’

Lahash smiled. ‘That is
precisely why I think we should go now. I have an idea of what Taz
is up to, and it could be dangerous for him.’

Aninka considered for a moment,
then nodded. ‘Yes. Let’s get a cab.’

At first, Aninka thought that
Taziel had left all the lights on in the main room by mistake. When
she and Taz went out for the evening, they always left one lamp
burning, just to discourage house-breakers, but when she and Lahash
entered the hall, she could see that the whole flat was lit up. She
took off her jacket and put it down on the sofa, along with her
shoulder bag.

‘He’s already here,’ Lahash
said pointing at the floor behind the sofa.

Aninka peered over the
furniture and saw Taziel’s leather jacket lying on the carpet. It
looked absurdly vulnerable, like a discarded skin. ‘They must be in
his room,’ she said.

Lahash pulled an exasperated
face. ‘I thought as much. Lead the way.’

Aninka hesitated. ‘Do we have
to? I mean, I don’t relish the idea of barging in on something
intimate.’

Lahash grinned at her. ‘Don’t
be squeamish. We
do
have to. As I said, Taz is putting
himself at risk.’

Aninka huffed a sigh, and led
the way down the short corridor to Taz’s room.
Taz is doing this
because Daniel’s psychic
, she thought
. That has to be the
reason. A meeting of souls. The meeting of bodies must be something
wondrous.
She realised the futility of confiding these thoughts
to Lahash, who would be unsympathetic at best.

When they stood before Taz’s
door, she pointed and mouthed, ‘There.’ Let Lahash be the one to
intrude. She just couldn’t do it.

Lahash clearly had no scruples
about what he was doing; he virtually kicked the door open.

A dim lamp threw golden brown
light over them where they lay on the bed. They were only half
clothed, entwined together, and gazing at each other as if a kiss
had just ended. For a split second, Aninka experienced an enormous
grief, and then Lahash was in the room, hauling Daniel from Taz’s
arms, and everything broke up into chaos.

Daniel swore, wriggled and
clawed in Lahash’s hold as he attempted to drag the boy from the
bed.

Taziel uttered a succinct
curse, his eyes fixed on Aninka. He thought she’d betrayed him.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ he screamed at Lahash.

Lahash had retreated to the
door, the struggling Daniel held firmly in his hands

‘Is this really necessary?’
Aninka asked lamely, her voice unheard through the cacophony of
Daniel’s complaints and Taziel’s furious questions. Lahash
disappeared out of the door, hauling Daniel along the carpet.

By the time Aninka and Taziel
reached the living room, Lahash had thrown Daniel down onto the
sofa. Now, he leaned over the boy and Aninka’s worst fears seemed
about to be realised. Lahash held the dull, black muzzle of a gun
against Daniel’s hair. Daniel was curled up, his arms over his
head, making no sound. He wore only a pair of black jeans. To
Aninka, he seemed all bones and ribs, his skin stretched tightly
over his body. His slim naked feet looked fragile. Aninka
swallowed, thought
Shem’s boy.
And understood immediately
the root of Taz’s desire. Shemyaza had touched this creature; part
of him lived in Daniel.

‘Did Shemyaza send you?’ Lahash
demanded.

Taziel ran over to the sofa,
doing up his belt. His naked chest was pimpled with cold or shock.
‘Are you mad, Lahash? Put that gun away! Get real!’ Aninka could
see he was frightened.

Lahash ignored him, nudged the
cold nose of the gun against Daniel’s neck, making him whimper.
‘Answer. Did Shemyaza send you?’

‘No!’ Daniel squeaked. ‘No!
No!’

‘You know he didn’t!’ Taziel
shouted. ‘For fuck’s sake, Lahash, let him go.’

Lahash, apparently satisfied,
straightened up, although he did not slide the gun back into its
nest within his jacket. ‘I know no such thing. You blithely believe
the boy is here because of you, but it’s quite possible Shemyaza is
aware of us, as we are aware of him.

Daniel slowly uncurled and
glanced fearfully at Lahash, while modestly rezipping his trousers.
‘Who
are
you?’

‘Friends of Peverel Othman,’
Lahash answered.

‘Who?’

Lahash glanced theatrically at
the ceiling. ‘Don’t bother lying to us, Daniel. We know you’re
holed up in the Moses Assembly Rooms with the erstwhile
Othman.’

‘He had no friends,’ Daniel
said. ‘You’re Grigori, aren’t you?’ He glanced at Taziel. ‘I knew!
Fuck, I knew! I’m so fucking stupid!’ He balled his hands into
fists and rolled his eyes in exasperation. Aninka’s heart went out
to him.

‘It’s not your concern what we
are,’ Lahash said. ‘We just want answers.’

Daniel shook his head wearily.
‘What do you want with me? If you think you can hold me hostage to
get at Shem, you’re wasting your time.’

‘That is not our intention,’
Lahash answered.

Daniel sat up straight, glanced
round at Taziel again. His eyes said much, although his thoughts
remained silent. ‘Then, what is your intention?’

Lahash sat down on the arm of
the sofa, the gun held carelessly in one hand in his lap. ‘We just
want to talk to you. We need information.’

Daniel snarled at Taziel, ‘You
bastard.’

‘I tried to tell you, didn’t
I?’ Taziel said. ‘You wouldn’t let me.’ He gestured at Lahash in
apparent contempt. ‘This is not my idea, believe me.’

Daniel looked at Aninka, as if
for the first time. ‘Eve,’ he said, and smiled bitterly. ‘I walked
right into it. Both of you! My God, why didn’t I listen to Israel?
He spotted what
“
Jack
”
was straight away!’ Daniel realised, miserably, that
tonight was the last time he would ignore the voice of his
intuition — supposing he had another chance to hear it.

‘Daniel, you’re not in any
danger,’ Aninka said, sitting down on his other side. ‘We’ve had to
be underhand, yes, but you don’t know how important it is that
Shemyaza is looked after by his own kind. He could be a very
dangerous man.’

‘Daniel knows that,’ Taziel
interjected.

‘Will you kill him?’ Daniel
asked. He seemed calm, but Aninka could see he was shaking.

‘No,’ she answered firmly. ‘I
don’t know how much you know about him, Daniel, but he’s a special
kind of person. He needs to be with people who appreciate that,
otherwise he’s a danger to himself and to others. Yes, we are all
Grigori, and we are very concerned about Shemyaza. There are people
waiting to meet him, to talk to him about what he is and try to
help him. You care about him, don’t you?’