And into the palace

Reddler and Artemis tiptoed inside, the door clicking shut behind them. Mafiya or not, it certainly had the look and feel of a palace about it.

"Hot damn," breathed Reddler, gazing at the high, softly lit ceiling and the gilt-lined corridors. It had an ancient, unreal atmosphere, cut off from the harsh world outside. Reddler hadn't been born rich, and luxuries such as these still amazed her, even though her father could probably buy the entire block at present.

Artemis tapped her on the shoulder. "Don't forget the living surveillance," he whispered, gesturing to the patrolling guards down the corridors. He was a bit worried about his partner. She was losing concentration, staring dreamy-eyed about the entire place. He looked down at the comm. screen on his wrist. The control room was in the centre of the palace. There was a route marked out for him but it was interrupted with tiny, moving dots.

Ah, more security to the control room. I wouldn't have expected any less, thought Artemis.

He took a moment to marvel at the living map on his wrist. Surprisingly, it was no fairy technology; rather it came from Reddler's personal stash of thermal scanners which she and Eric had developed while at Symbiosis. It had taken Artemis hours to persuade her to let Holly have them, so that they would have a comprehensive map to the control codes. He breathed in, deciding they would have to go for it head on. Of course, there was a tiny hitch of the surrounding security. But that was more Reddler's area.

"Positions, everyone," said Artemis into the tiny mike taped to his lapel. "We're running out of time."

Reddler frowned, trying to find a pathway avoiding the guards. Fortunately, the corridors were not continuous. Small curtained recesses frequented the walls. She waited until the man turned round the bend, facing away from them.

"Now!" she said. They ran the length of the corridor and ducked into a recess. It was dark, but they could make out the bare furnishings. A plush leather settee. A small table. A telephone. She peeped out from underneath the curtain. There was no one on either side. She gestured Artemis to follow her and they ran a good length of the corridor and round the bends. Seeing an armed guard some distance away, they ducked into the nearest recess. They waited until he had walked across their hiding place, and broke into a run again. But unfortunately, this time they were surprised by a man just round the corner, and had to adopt their previous method of hiding in a recess to avoid colliding with him.

To their great dismay, it wasn't a recess at all! Just behind the curtain, wedged in a tiny gap in the wall was an enormous suit of armor. It was draped in muslin, and was probably being repaired. There was hardly enough space for Artemis to stand there himself, let alone Reddler hide along with him. Artemis positioned himself in the little space between the armor and the wall. Reddler had nowhere to hide, and he had to think fast.

"Come here," he whispered.

"What?" she hissed back. "There's not enough space in there for the two of us!"

Artemis said nothing; they were running out of time. He pulled her to himself and wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her even closer. Reddler was too surprised for words. She was grateful that it was very dark, or Artemis would've seen her blushing furiously. Surely he could hear her heart hammering this wildly!

Oh, god…

"Your feet are showing," said Artemis, glancing down. "Move closer."

"No way!"

It was clear that she wasn't going to comply, so Artemis had to force her to. He reached out with his foot and entwined his leg with hers. He knew that in order to retain her balance, she would have to push in her other foot in between his legs. And that was exactly what she did.

But the other thing she did, one which he hadn't calculated, was wrap her arms around his neck.

To avoid falling backwards, perhaps, he thought. Perhaps.

Reddler rested her head in the crook of Artemis' neck and breathed in deeply, trying to calm herself. He smelt of faint cologne. Somehow, being in his arms, it felt like the safest place on earth.

Do vampires feel this warm?

Mixed feelings rushing through the both of them, they waited with bated breath until the waiting guard shifted his position. They heard the tapping of his boots as he walked by their hiding place. It was an awkward moment, as both of them were reluctant to let go. Then, as if an unpleasant interruption to a dream came Foaly's grinning voice in their ears.

"Uh, guys? I really hope you aren't frozen in place, because we don't have much time…"

Suddenly it became all too clear just how very intimate their position was, and they disentangled themselves in a hurry.

Reddler was as red as a tomato, and even Artemis seemed to be coloring up. He cleared his throat.

"We should be, uh, going now," he said.

"Umm, yeah…sure," stammered Reddler, avoiding his eyes.

Out in the open, they struggled to gain a hold on the situation again. They sprinted round the maze of corridors without further incident. After a while, they could see a set of double doors in the distance.

Artemis smiled his vampire smile.

The control room.

Vitya Kayakova was just returning to the palace after parking his car in the galleria garage. The car keys chinked in his pocket. He was enjoying a much-needed break in Italy, courtesy of the big boss. Britva had certainly not been very happy to hear about the Croft girl slipping away from his hands. But Kayakova had managed to lace up his little tale with the gruesome, extensive battle he had fought with Jeffrey Martin, the unexpected, bloodthirsty assassin. He could tell Britva being minutely impressed, and had been sent off to Palermo. Vitya fervently hoped the boss would overlook this tiny incident. But he couldn't forget the fact that his pride had taken a blow. He had been defeated, and was still simmering from the insult.

He was walking over to the palace grounds, when something dropped on to his shoulder. Annoyed, he flicked it off hastily. But something very interesting caught his eye, and he stopped short, watching it fall to the ground. It was a tattered cuff, probably from an expensive jacket. He watched it sway in the light wind as it slowly drifted to the earth.

He picked it up, and fingered the fine silk threads. And then he noticed it.

Two small initials, monogrammed in a neat hand.

A.F.

Vitya had decided long back not to believe in coincidences.