Read Scenting Hallowed Blood Online

Authors: Storm Constantine

Tags: #angels, #fantasy, #constantine, #nephilim, #watchers, #grigori

Scenting Hallowed Blood (27 page)

When the meal arrived, the
writing utensils were on the tray. Austin brought the food up
himself. ‘Your colleague, Miss Manden, has asked to see you.’

‘Convey my apologies. She’ll
have to wait a while.’

Austin raised one eyebrow and
almost smiled. ‘She was most insistent.’

‘I’m sure you can handle her. I
don’t wish to see either of my colleagues at present.’ He wrote
hurriedly on a piece of paper and folded it in half before handing
it to Austin. ‘Please give this to Daniel Cranton.’ The bottelier
inclined his head and departed.

At three o’clock, Austin
returned. ‘Lord Enniel requests your presence in his study. There
is a visitor who wishes to meet you.’

Shem was still sitting on the
bed. ‘I do not intend to leave this room. If anyone wishes to see
me, they must see me here.’

‘I shall convey your feelings
to Lord Enniel.’ Austin withdrew once more.

Shem gripped his feet and
placed his head on his thighs. He felt in turmoil, despite the
meditations. He felt tired, but unable to sleep. He felt hungry,
but sick. Only a few minutes elapsed before someone knocked sharply
on his door once more. Shem did not call out, but the door opened
anyway and Enniel came into the room. He was followed by a
fearsome-looking female, whose heavy-lidded eyes seemed to look
straight into Shem’s soul. Enniel seemed nervous, which was
interesting.

‘Shemyaza, this is Sofia.’

The woman inclined her head and
smiled in a dangerous way, walking past Enniel to confront him. She
held out her hand. ‘I’ve been
so
looking forward to this
meeting,’ she said.

After lunch, Emma went for a
walk around the grounds with Aninka, while the men sat in the
drawing room to read the daily papers. It seemed as if all the
occupants of the house were avoiding them, for no-one else came to
sit in the room. Daniel was feeling more and more disorientated. He
felt as if he’d accidentally stepped into another life, and was a
normal houseguest, down for the weekend with his lover, to sample
the opulence of Enniel Prussoe’s house. What was he doing sitting
reading a paper? It was absurd. The words on the page swam before
his eyes. He wanted to see Shem. Why hadn’t he been sent for? When
the note came, Daniel almost tore it in half in his urgency to read
it. This had to be the summons.

‘What is it?’ Taziel asked
sharply.

Daniel read the note before
answering. He looked at Taziel in bewilderment. ‘He won’t see
me.’

‘Show me.’ Taziel held out his
hand.

‘No.’ Daniel couldn’t bear to
think of Taziel reading it. He was also aware of Lahash’s
attention, even though he appeared engrossed in his paper. ‘I’ll
show you later.’

Taziel stood up. ‘I want to
know now.’

Daniel sighed. ‘All right.’ He
didn’t want to lie about what Shem had written.

Taziel read it and laughed.
‘He’s got a fucking nerve! Who does he think he is?’

‘I think we both know the
answer to that,’ Daniel said dryly.

‘Will you do what he says?’ The
question was a challenge.

Daniel felt torn. Where did his
loyalties lie now? Where
should
they lie? He dropped his
eyes from Taziel’s furious gaze. ‘Yes,’ he said simply. ‘I have to.
This is nothing to do with relationships. It’s more important.’

‘Nothing to do with
relationships? Hah!’ Taziel read the note aloud, much to Daniel’s
distress. ‘“Daniel, you have polluted yourself. You cannot come to
me until you have been purified. Abstain from the greed of the
flesh for three days, then send me word. We shall meet at this
time.” Bollocks!’ Taziel ripped the note up. ‘You really jump to
his tune, don’t you?’

Daniel choked back a cry and
raised his hands to his face as the fragments of torn paper rained
down on his head. ‘Taz, I only met you yesterday. Why are you
behaving like this? You knew of my connection with Shem. It was the
reason you seduced me in the first place!’

Lahash cleared his throat to
remind them he was there. Taziel uttered an angry sound and stalked
from the room. Daniel sat with his face in his hands, thinking
only,
Fuck, fuck, fuck.

‘It didn’t say three days from
today,’ Lahash remarked, shaking his paper to straighten the
page.

Daniel looked at him through a
cage of fingers. ‘That’s true,’ he said.

Emma knew that Aninka Prussoe
was curious about her. As they walked through the bedraggled,
leafless gardens of High Crag, she sensed the multitude of
questions that Aninka could barely contain. This Grigori woman had
loved Peverel Othman very much; Emma could see that in her face.
What a silly bitch! Emma had never deluded herself that Othman
could be an ordinary lover. Still, there was a wistful, vulnerable
quality about Aninka that endeared her to Emma. Also, she did not
treat Emma with condescension, a trait exhibited by most Grigori in
human company.

As they strolled towards the
broken-down wall that marked the boundary with the cliff edge,
Aninka told Emma about Lahash. ‘He is a Murkaster, you know. He
lived in Little Moor at one time.’

Emma nodded. ‘I thought he
looked familiar. I didn’t know him personally, but then the
Murkasters were a large family, relatives were always coming and
going.’

‘You have given up a lot to be
with Shemyaza.’

Emma smiled. At last, Aninka
had dared to broach the subject. ‘Not much. Without the Murkasters
I was dying. You should have seen me a couple of months ago. I
looked like a hag.’

Aninka cast her an amused
glance. ‘That is very hard to believe!’

Emma shrugged. ‘To be honest, I
feel rather adrift now. In Little Moor, I had a role, as Lily and
Owen’s protectress. And it was me who organised everything to get
Shem and the others to safety.’ She grinned at Aninka. ‘Well,
relative safety. Now...’ She sighed. ‘I don’t seem to have a
purpose. Lily and Owen have vanished, and Shem and Daniel certainly
don’t need me.’

Aninka gently touched Emma’s
shoulder. ‘Oh, I’m sure that’s not true.’

‘Don’t humour me,’ Emma said
lightly. ‘It’s quite true.’ She walked to the wall and put her
hands upon the slick, rough stones. The wind was hungry here,
grabbing at their clothes and hair. Emma took a deep breath. ‘Look
at the sea. It’s alive.’

Aninka leaned on the wall
beside her, her long black hair flying back like a sinister flag.
The waves were a grey-green maelstrom far below, furious breakers
collared with foam. ‘I grew up here,’ Aninka said. ‘For a while I
wanted only to escape. Now I can appreciate it again.’

‘You are lucky,’ Emma said
dryly.

Aninka pursed her lips, then
said, ‘Enniel will find the Winter twins, I’m sure.’

‘I hope so. I made a promise to
their mother that I’d look out for them.’

‘I’d like to meet them,’ Aninka
said. ‘I’m sure we have a lot in common.’

Emma gave her a wry glance. ‘I
expect so. You’d like Lily. She’s a lovely girl. And Owen — well,
if he ever gets back to normal, he’s quite a stunner.’

Aninka smiled, then glanced at
Emma speculatively. ‘Would you tell me what happened in Little
Moor? I mean, do you mind?’

Emma pulled a rueful face. ‘No,
I don’t mind.’

Aninka stared straight ahead,
her gaze fixed on the sea as Emma related all she could remember:
Othman’s arrival, her rejuvenation, how she assisted him to take
control of the village. ‘He wanted to enact a ritual at the High
Place, which is a sacred mound outside the village. The Murkasters
used it, and so have magically inclined humans. For centuries. He
would have killed Daniel, you know. He had no sentimentality about
it.’ She frowned. ‘But something happened. A goddess came.’ She
paused, then spoke the name. ‘Ishtahar. She was Shemyaza’s lover,
the human woman who seduced him thousands of years ago. Only she’s
something rather more than human now.’ Glancing at Aninka, she
could see that the woman looked crestfallen.

‘Ishtahar stopped him,’ Aninka
said in a dull voice.

Emma nodded. ‘Yes. I saw it.
They will be together again one day, Ninka. You must forget about
him.’

Aninka laughed nervously. ‘Am I
that transparent?’

Emma was quite surprised Aninka
wasn’t offended by the frankness of her remarks. Grigori wouldn’t
normally take criticism or censure from a human, no matter how
gently worded. ‘I do understand,’ she said. ‘I know the effect Shem
has on people.’

‘I wanted to be different,’
Aninka said hotly. ‘I wanted to stand out from the adoring masses.
Is that so bad?’

Emma shook her head. ‘No. I
would have felt the same.’

‘Ah, but you didn’t.’

Emma turned away from the sea.
‘I’m not Grigori,’ she said.

Aninka’s face assumed a
determined expression. She reached out briefly and touched Emma’s
arm. ‘I will help you find the twins,’ she said.

Chapter
Seventeen
Rites
of Truth and Passage

When Sofia arrived at Pharos for
dinner, she was still high from her meeting during the afternoon.
Her heart continued to beat faster than normal, and there were
spots of colour along her sharp cheek-bones. She felt slightly out
of breath and unnaturally joyous. The experience of seeing Azazel
in the flesh had affected her more than she would have believed
possible. There was no doubt he was everything they thought him to
be.

Salamiel’s secretary showed her
into the library, where a fire burned in medieval splendour and the
indigo drapes were drawn against the night. Sofia demanded a gin
and tonic and Nina moved obediently to the sideboard to mix one.
Sofia stood before the fire, taking quick, thirsty sips and staring
into the flames.

‘Sofia.’

She turned to the sound of her
name and put her empty glass down on the mantle-piece. Salamiel had
come into the room and upon his arm was a beautiful young woman.
Lily Winter. It had to be. Her long red hair fell softly over her
breasts, confined only by tortoiseshell combs behind her ears. She
wore a long dinner dress of green fabric that looked rather too old
for her. Sofia was slightly annoyed Salamiel was not alone, for
some things she did not want to discuss in front of the girl.
Collecting herself, she glided towards Salamiel, put her hands upon
his shoulders and kissed the air beside his left cheek. ‘Sal! How
lovely to see you!’ She withdrew and smiled at Lily. ‘And you must
be Salamiel’s visitor, Miss Lily Winter.’

The girl smiled awkwardly and
wriggled her shoulders. ‘Hi.’ She appeared to feel uncomfortable in
her matron’s gown. Sofia did not blame her. Salamiel had obviously
chosen it for her. Stupid creature! No taste!

‘How pretty you are.’ Sofia
drawled.

Lily blushed. Sofia drew in her
breath and turned to Salamiel. ‘Sal, darling, I really must have a
few minutes alone with you before dinner. I’ve had a horrible
letter from my broker again. Would you look at it for me?’

‘With pleasure.’ Salamiel
disengaged Lily from his arm. ‘Sit here for a while will you, my
dear. Nina will get you a drink.’

‘I do apologise for whisking
him off like this,’ Sofia trilled at Lily, ‘but I simply can’t
digest my meal until my mind’s at rest.’

‘That’s OK,’ Lily said, moving
towards the couch.

Salamiel smiled at her. ‘Thank
you, Lily. We shan’t be long.’ He virtually dragged Sofia from the
room.

Outside, with the library door
shut, Salamiel and Sofia held onto each other’s arms, their
relative status forgotten in the intensity of the moment. The light
was dim around them. Only their eyes glittered and the jewels at
Sofia’s throat. ‘Well?’ Salamiel hissed.

‘Yes!’ Sofia exhaled. She was
shaking. ‘He lives!’

Salamiel let her go and briefly
closed his eyes, a delighted grin spreading across his face. He
took hold of her arm again. ‘My study. Come.’

They ran down the corridor,
creatures far removed from the masks they wore in human, and
occasionally each other’s, company. Their tall shadows flickered
along the walls. Sofia looked like the Witch Queen from a fairy
tale, with her long, black gown and gleaming hair and eyes.
Salamiel looked like what he was; a son of angels, crowned with a
fiery mane, his eyes glowing like coals. They stopped before the
door behind which Salamiel’s private office could be found. Sofia
followed him into the room and threw herself into a leather chair,
her gown spreading out around her feet like a pool of Indian ink.
‘I saw it in his face the minute I walked into his room,’ she said,
breathlessly. Her eyes were like black gems in their deep sockets,
her flesh like powdered tissue. Her breath even steamed a little on
the warm air.

‘How did he appear?’ Salamiel
leaned on the desk beside her, his hair hanging over his chest. His
face was in shadow, but for his pale cheekbones and the wet gleam
of his eyes.

‘Magnificent! He is tired and
troubled, but underneath it all, I feel he is in control. He is
playing with Enniel and his cronies. He’s just waiting to see what
they are offering.’

Salamiel watched her breast
rising and falling. The physical manifestation of her excitement
fascinated him, although he was equally shocked by it. ‘What did
you discuss?’

Sofia shrugged and shook her
head. ‘Hardly anything. I dropped a few morsels of bait, subtle
ones. It remains to be seen whether he picks them up.’ She rubbed
her hands together; her fingers were like polished bones, the skin
deathly pale. ‘I need a drink. Have you anything in here?’

Salamiel nodded and went around
the desk to open a drawer. ‘What are Enniel’s plans?’

‘Oh, the Parzupheim will meet
at High Crag during the next few days. They’ll pussy-foot around
Azazel, because they haven’t got his measure. Now they have him in
their claws, but in truth, I don’t think they have a clue what to
do with him.’ She smiled in a brittle fashion and accepted a small
tumbler of whisky from Salamiel. ‘Which is all to our advantage. I
shall need to speak to him alone, of course, and in the very near
future. I don’t want to risk Enniel getting any hooks into
him.’

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