29

ADRIFT IN THE NORTH

Alarms wailed.

The lamps flickered off, replaced by a dull hue emanating from the emergency lights. They glowed reluctantly in a sea of weak, red orbs embedded across the ceiling. Nikola stirred, driven from the warm nest in the crook of his arm. He'd been asleep, flayed over Helen's desk for most of the night with two empty bottles of wine leering over him like sentries.

He cringed at the assault on his ears, then stretched his chipped claws, inspecting them in dismay. After this little treasure hunting mission was over, Nikola was going to skulk back to the shadows of Rome for some serenity. Once a century gallivanting about in Helen's world was more than enough for an old vampire like himself. He wanted to work on his projects – nurture a few world domination plans and maybe work his way through Apulia sipping wine and flirting his way to obscurity.

The vino would have to wait.

Nikola prodded his laptop with a claw, fishing through security logs. The rear perimeter wall had crumbled into the courtyard leaving a trail of sandstone rubble smeared over Helen's lawn toward the loading dock. It's door was wedged open with a brick – insultingly crude. He watched personal shifting about in the live security feed, scratching their useless heads.

"Humans..." he sighed. "Guess I better -"

He was disturbed by Bigfoot, who padded up to the door, sticking his great big furry head into Helen's office.

"Tesla!" he growled, long, knotted hair full of bits of fish. He had been feeding the Abnormal bats – better known as Pterodactyls. Four leathery forms darted around their cage, slamming into anyone brave enough to wave fish and meat in their direction. They were getting too big to keep. Helen would have to surrender them to the Pacific Sanctuary sooner or later despite her attachment to the ugly things. "Downstairs, now! You've got a guest."

"...I've got a what?" Nikola lofted his eyebrows. He wasn't officially alive let alone entertaining guests.

"Place's becomin' a bloody vampire airport!" Bigfoot stormed off, muttering, "Backpacker lodge for the undead..."

Nikola closed the laptop with a defeated clunk and stowed his keystones out of sight. He levelled a disapproving glare at the grand towers of paperwork littering Helen's office. It was a grand city of paper interspersed with abandoned tea settings. Thick curtains were drawn in an endless, velvet night, encapsulating the room as though he were inside a jewellery box.

It was a familiar sense of chaos. He remembered it well from Oxford, late 1980's, when Gregory Magnus's house had served as their makeshift lair. Nikola didn't like it all – this was a sign that their control was slipping; events unfurling... The last time this happened, five foolish young people changed the world. Nikola wasn't sure that he was ready to walk that path again.

The fire had simmered away into ruin providing only a hint of warmth as Nikola paced by, swiping an unfinished glass of wine from a table which he sipped on his way to the foyer.

He deposited upon entering he marbled room, eyes turning black.

Nikola's first instinct was to punch the son of a bitch in the face but Ashley got there first, the furious blonde sending Apries staggering into an unfriendly wall. The vampire clutched his perfect, Egyptian-prince nose, surprised by the sudden rush of blood.

"The hell do you call what happened in Paris?!" she yelled, at the dashing vampire. Pain shot through her knuckles. She shook her hand with a scowl. "What do vampires have, bones of steel?"

Nose bloodied, Apries shook off the insult and carefully flicked hair out of his face. It fell in soft waves, bouncing whenever he turned his head. Apries was aroused by Ashley's ferocity, gazing at her with amusement. He wasn't sure if it was passion or hunger driving him to run his tongue over his lips, catching a smear of blood. He wondered how she'd taste on his lips...

"I think you mean thank you," Apries replied dryly, sharp blue eyes flicking between the young girl, Tesla and the intimidating Sasquatch. "Where'd they drag you out from?" he added, unwisely at Bigfoot. The creature simply grunted in disapproval.

"Oh yes, thank you so much," Tesla snapped, stalking closer, "for beating the crap out of us – twice. Yes, I quite enjoyed that – always makes travelling that much more interesting. I particularly enjoyed plummeting out of a window into my late friend's greenhouse."

"Perhaps you should take more care with windows?" Apries hid his diversion poorly. "Sadly, I cannot take credit. I do not make a habit of playing with my food lest it run away."

A vein on Nikola's forehead twitched as he found himself referred to as 'food'.

"Then you didn't take the stone from Paris either?" Ashley's eyes tightened with suspicion.

"No," Apries insisted. "I was in Rome, locked in a cell. Our lovely Immortal friend stole your stone. He seemed rather eager to get his paws on all three. His intention is to destroy the key to my door. I managed to salvage this..." Apries reached into his coat and pulled out the remaining stone from Paris. It was more beautiful than the other two, slightly larger and almost reddish in colour. Nikola reached for it but Apries withdrew his hand possessively, vanishing it back into his robes.

"Where's the Immortal now?" Nikola asked warily.

"Pissed. He took exception at my escape."

The alarms died. Bigfoot closed the newly fitted front door with a grunt. The lights returned. Ashley shifted, fingertips brushing the cold handle of her handgun. "I should throw you in the SHU," she whispered, uncomfortable under his constant, lecherous gaze.

"If it pleases you... I'm a very patient vampire."

She shivered, repulsed. Ashley turned tail, heading down toward the gym leaving Tesla to deal with his guest. Apries watched her go, titling his head ever so slightly. All the charm of an Immortal without the bitter after taste.

Not only did Apries look young, his skin was flushing with a healthy hint of crimson making him eerily human. Nikola could smell the fresh blood. He was a vampire – a predator that saw nothing wrong with picking his way through the population. Cities were fast food outlets, children snacks. Yes, Apries was very comfy here in the depths of Old City.

Nikola was having a hard time deciding which vampire he wanted to keep alive for eternity; Apries or Amasis? It was that – or he killed the Immortal. Neither prospect had much hope without Helen beside him. For the moment he decided to play along, learn what he could from Apries. Besides, he could use some help with the stones. Evil they may be but vampires were still smart.

"Alone at last," Tesla nodded at his ancestor. "Shall we?"

"I knocked his Immortal hide around a little. He did not bother to follow me, no need. He knows that we intend to return to the cave now that we have all three stones in our possession – he won't let that pass. The Immortal is prepared to kill us all, including himself, to protect whatever is behind that door."

Nikola sat opposite the vampire. They were in his lab, seated on stools between Nikola's many, varied experiments some of which looked like towers of wire, others blinking with arrays of coloured lights. The one next to Apries hummed like an insect poised to pounce.

Apries eyed it warily. He found himself in a world of things he didn't understand – most of which had their birth in Tesla's mind. It was a strange thing, vampires may not rule the world any more but they certainly had a hand in shaping it.

Nikola was staring into nowhere, trying to reconcile the memory of his professor and the true Immortal that he was. "Do you think he knows what's buried in the mountain?"

"The only thing I know for sure, half-breed, is that the Immortal's knowledge outstrips ours." Apries casually sipped his wine. "This is not bad, actually. Is this really how you stay off your food?"

Nikola topped up the vampire's glass. "I'm not sure it'll work for you but if you get peckish during your stay, I suggest you alleviate yourself of the blood bank downstairs. That furry thing you met earlier will take offence if you gnaw on any of his precious pets."

"I had a good feed earlier," he assured Tesla. "To business, I'd like to see those stones of yours."

Nikola bent down, pulling out the drawer in the desk.

"Stay away from that Immortal," Apries added, swirling his wine around in the glass.

"Believe me, trying to," Nikola muttered, pulling out the stones. They were wrapped in layers of velvet and warm, their electric fields creating friction in the atomic structure of the rock. It reminded Nikola of a heart, steadily pulsing. "I don't fancy being balanced out of an equat-"

"No," Apries cut him short. "The woman."

Nikola looked up, his eyes dangerous. He was a very private creature and Helen inhabited the most secret part of his soul.

"She's designed to appeal to you. That's the point – the snare of an Immortal but the minute you have them..." Apries finished his sentence by clicking his bony fingers as though a moth had met its flame.

"I think you have the wrong idea about us," Nikola replied brusquely. "Helen and I are old friends."

The vampire's lip curled revealing the sharp tips of his fangs. His mouth was full of them, all neatly arranged in a row of tiny daggers. "I have seen many vampires fall. It is a patient curse, a disease and you, my mongrel friend, are sick with it. You reside in her house, do her bidding – how long until you try for her bed? How long until that perfect neck of hers lingers too close to your fangs – pitiful as they are?"

Nikola took a measured breath. This creature knew nothing of friendship, of the binds that held together people throughout centuries. "Can we focus?"

The vampire shrugged. In his own way he was genuinely trying to be of assistance even if he'd severely miscalculated Tesla's heart. "Between you and me, if a vampire is going to die shortly, I'd rather it be my brother."

"I suppose being entombed alive would sour your relationship," Nikola agreed.

Apries shrugged. "That was the least of it. He was notorious schemer, spreading whispers through the palace and the ranks of father's army. He is – destruction – poison; like the ancient gods of mischief. His hunger for the spoils of war killed our people. Even if I could forgive him his trespass against my person, I will never forgive him the slaughter on the dunes. The children-" Apries stopped as the vision appeared in his mind, raw as the desert sun baking the lifeless bodies. His infant son reached up, tiny hand -

"Has there ever been a crossing of the blood-lines? Immortals and Vampires..."

Apries tensed, snapping the stem of the wine glass in his hand without meaning to. Dark, vampire blood dripped onto the table. It was cold, turning black against the wood. He watched the skin on his palm knit effortlessly back together. "Once," he breathed in reply.

Nikola leaned closer, blue eyes meeting black. "And?"

"It ended with blood – blood sinking through the sand... The child was slaughtered with the rest and our ships, meant to carry us to a new home, fled as my brother's army bore down on myself and the few survivors. One of them was my wife."

Apries faltered slightly, playing with the bits of broken glass. "She had red hair and eyes like Firestones. I still remember the evening that we first met in the desert. I followed her into a hidden spring. Her plan was to kill me – exact a little balance for the world and rid it of another vampire."

She was an Immortal, Nikola realised, heart flickering with hope. "Instead you had a child."

The vampire nodded. "Is something wrong?"

Nikola was staring off into the distance. He had seen this story play out before. It's vision had haunted him since Oxford. Sand. Blood. Ships sails vanishing along a ribbon of blue, never to return. Blood memory.

"Minqar Abd an Nabi..." Nikola whispered.

Apries felt violated but kept his tone steady. "Ah, so the blood does live on. You have seen those sands. How does it make you feel? Are you human, holding the sword and thrusting it into their flesh? Or are you amongst the vampires rotting on the ground? What is it like to inhabit both worlds – both pains and victories?"

Nikola's brow furrowed. "Confusing."

"Creatures like you are not meant to exist," Apries whispered.

"I've been telling myself the same thing since 1888."

"You are an accident."

Tesla shrugged. "The universe banks on accidents."

"What the hell is this?" Henry protested, yanking against the chains on his hands and ankles as he was pulled along the hallways like a dog. "Uh ha – no way!" he growled, snarling as he was shoved into a small room with a steel table with leather restraints. "What kind of mad scientist lair is this? Get your claws off me, vamp!"

Amasis flicked his hand, calling forth his assistants who lifted the wolf onto the table and strapped him down. Henry kept struggling, trying to change into his animal form but the drugs they'd given him earlier were drowning his system. Every time he tried, searing pain burned through his body, rushing fire and ice through his veins. It was a trick of the nervous system; the pain was not causing physical actual harm but Henry simply couldn't fight through it.

"Tighter," Amasis hissed, as the scientists heaved on the straps until their subject wailed. They all sank back into the shadows of the room, Amasis drawing down the spotlight so that it near-blinded Henry in its angy light.

"You're mental!" Henry grunted, struggling. "What happened to the whole, 'protecting abnormals' gig you had going in South America?"

"I never harboured wolves, Mr Foss. Your kind are dirt."

Now Henry thought about it, that cave had flung him back out into the wilderness. He should have known then that he was unwelcome. Bloody vampires. "Aw come on, like vampires are much better hey – HEY that hurts!" Henry complained, as one of the scientists stabbed a needle into his arm, jamming down the plunger.

John lurked around the edge of the room, pacing silently.

"Druitt! I know you're there!" Henry cried out. "You can't let him do this – you won't!" He was pleading with a serial killer for help against a vampire. His chances of survival were pretty slim.

"Amasis!" Will screamed at the walls until he was hoarse. He fell against the cold metal, banging his head into it in anger. "God-bloody-darn-it!" every word was accompanied by a loud bang.

He'd watched helplessly as the scientists dragged Henry away. They were going to do something terrible to him, he knew it. Their body language was sickeningly easier to read. There was nothing he could do to stop them – no way out of this container. With no light, he couldn't even see the cold wall against his skull.

"Not Henry..." he whispered, sliding down the metal in defeat. As much as he liked Foss as a colleague, he knew that Henry was like a son to his boss. It would kill Magnus to lose him.

He continued bashing his head against the wall, preferring the pain to the sound of Henry's distant screams. Then he heard it – the sharp screech of his door opening, chains hitting the ground and a bright crack of light violating the abyss. They'd come for him.

"Will!" a woman's voice hissed, a torch striking through the darkness onto his face. "God! Will!" A figure, out of focus without his glasses, raced towards him. They kneeled to the ground, soft hands cupping his face. Their flesh was warm.

"...Magnus?" Will murmured, blinking back the alien light. Another figure lingered by the door, nervously keeping watch.

"You could sound a touch more enthused," her very British voice drawled in reply. Helen broke his chains and helped her protege to his feet. He seemed unsteady but not hurt. "Will – where's Henry?"

"I think it's too late," Will replied, leaning heavily against her. "Amasis took him upstairs an hour ago – the last thing I heard was – was screaming..."

Bigfoot set down the sixth bottle of wine for the evening in front of the vampires. They didn't even notice his presence any more. That was vampires for you. They were born to bask in the service of slaves. Presently, the fanged pair were engrossed in the unassuming trio of stones; re-arranging, analysing and documenting every nano-metre of their melted patterns.

"Fascinating, this appears to be a language," Apries whispered, examining an enlarged photo of their surfaces. Each was covered in complex arrays of hairline scratches.

"One based in mathematics," Nikola added, tapping it with a long claw. "It follows natural progressions, a pattern repeating itself as it flows across the stone. Beautiful..."

"The language of the gods, perhaps," Apries mused. "No one has ever seen it but the ancient songs made reference to such a thing. They called it, 'music'."

"Music is mathematics," Nikola agreed. "Though without a reference – a Rosetta Stone of sorts, we have no hope of translating this inside a useful time frame. Let's just hope this door of yours is essentially plug and play."

"The Immortal will be waiting for us, we know that. He doesn't need to hunt us out from the corners of the world. Have you ever seen the true form of an Immortal?" Apries asked Tesla.

Tesla set his photographs down with a confused look.

"Nor have I," Apries admitted. "All I know is that if we're the monsters of this world, then the Immortals are the gatekeepers of hell itself."

"The only hell, Apries, is the world you see around you," Nikola replied bluntly. "Take a good look."

The prince easily passed for a man in his thirties, wild and dramatic with dark hair and piercing eyes. Nikola idly wondered if that was a hunting adaptation, playing off what human females found attractive to draw them in before the slaughter like a carnivorous flower or violent insect. Deadly beauty. Serenity in the slaughter.

"If we're going back to that cave, we need to have a plan and my brother. The Immortal will come after us if we go for the door. If Magnus brings him back..."

"Speaking of," Nikola leaned closer. "This little trick the pair of you can do – short range teleporting... We're going to need to stop your brother from doing that. Can I borrow you briefly."

"To determine an effective restraint?" Apries looked moderately uncomfortable.

"Listen, we're trusting you – you have to trust us. Besides, there's nothing like a little bondage to lighten the mood."

Henry was drowsy, the drugs sending his limbs into a dead sleep. He sagged against the table and its leather restraints. His yellow eyes stared unblinking at the light above. It consumed him, became his world and his focus. There was nothing but that light and the emptiness it promised.

A shadow leered over him.

Amasis sank an eyedropper into a small vial of Magoi blood and brandished it over the werewolf. This was an indulgent pleasure – a wolf at his mercy, how he'd longed for such a day. He'd prayed to the old gods to bring a wolf to his sanctuary but never, not in all the long centuries, had one been brazen enough to sniff its way into the caves.

"Stupid mutt," he whispered, pressing his cold, bony fingers against Henry's eye socket, holding his lids apart.

Amasis was thrown violently backwards long before he heard the boom of Helen's shotgun. The force of the exploding shrapnel pinned him to the wall in a spray of blood. He let out a hiss, gasping for air as his body started to repair itself. He dropped the vial – Magoi blood splattering over the floor. "Magnus!" he hissed.

"Yeah," she replied, cocking her gun. "Nice ship. I wouldn't..." she cautioned the scientists, some of which were shifting toward weapons. "In the corner, all of you. What are these, Amasis – left over Cabal?"

Amasis sank to the floor in a pool of his blood, wounded but not fatally so. His black eyes were searching for Druitt but he couldn't see the murderer anywhere. "Some of them," he admitted, holding up his bloodied hand. "So – what – are you going to kill me?" he hissed.

Magnus glared at him. "Don't tempt me," she hissed. "I have that urge to free the world of one vampire. It's a deep, primal desire – easily given into if you test my patience."

"I don't see why you'd leave me alive – a vampire wouldn't..."

"Well then it's your lucky, bloody day because I'm not a vampire. Joe."

Joe stepped forward, lifting his rifle. He shot Amasis with several rounds of tranquilliser, tiny colourful feathers sticking out of his chest. Amasis groaned, staring down at the darts before slumping to the ground.

"What about John?" Joe knelt down to check that the vampire was out.

"He's around here somewhere, he must be. CCT footage showed him step onto the boat."

Helen walked over to Henry, undoing his restraints. "You all right?" she whispered.

"Yeah doc, good..." Henry whispered, sitting up, rubbing his sore wrists. "John's gone. Saw a flash of light just before you arrived. Will -" he remembered. "He's down in the – oh, hi!"

Will waved from the door. The bruises on his face looked raw and angry.

"Let's box the vampire up and go home," Helen said, before turning her glare on the scientists. "And hand these over to your boys," she nodded to Joe. "I'm sure they'd love to process them for various crimes against humanity."

"Be a pleasure, Magnus," Joe grinned.

Helen stalked down the ship's corridors, casing the darkness – checking room after room. It was a ghost ship, only a fraction of it used by Amasis and his crew. Abandoned without power, it creaked and moaned like a giant skeleton. She could hear water lapping against the hull, the distant beating of a helicopter's blades and her breath; short and wary on the air.

There were no more prisoners in the cargo hold where Will and Henry were kept. The original cargo was untouched, looming in containers the size of small apartments. She angled her torchlight up their ribbed surfaces, pausing to admire the scale.

Cold steel on her neck.

Helen froze, a blade pressing against her pulsing vein.

"...John?"