Chapter 2: Pawn
London. July 26, 2007.
On a warm summer night, Jack and Leonard took a stroll in Green Park. During their ramble, they discussed future adventures for their time thief.
Leonard stopped to eye Buckingham Palace. "We haven't broken into the palace in ages. How many changes have taken place?"
Jack exchanged grins with him. "In the interest of thoroughness, I'd say a reconnaissance mission is essential. Cicely commented only yesterday that someday we should do an expansion pack for modern times. We could involve Cold War intrigue or international terrorists."
Cicely Wilson, the founder of Bridewell Studio, had the heart of an adventurer. She would love to go along on their scouting missions, but as a daemon, she couldn't elude capture as easily.
"Those terrorists might strike at the Crown Jewels," Jack suggested. "We need to include the Tower in our plans."
Leonard laughed aloud. "We haven't snuck inside that fortress for close to a century. I'm moving that to the top of our list. Bryn mentioned coming to see us. We should hold off till she's here. I'm sure she'd like to join us."
Bryn continued to live in Russia with her lover Nina Kisly. Together they'd weathered the upheavals in Russia. During the dark years under Stalin, they fled to Norway. Bryn and Nina now alternated between living in Russia and Scandinavia.
It was well past midnight by the time he and Leonard headed back to the bell tower. They'd just turned onto a narrow side street near Covent Garden when Jack heard the unmistakable sound of a witch's bloodsong. The scent was unfamiliar. Since they weren't in Father H's domain, she probably wasn't a member of the St. James Garlickhythe gathering.
Without warning, dense fog surrounded him. He was paralyzed in place. He tried to cry out but his throat was held in a vice. Where was Leonard? Was he okay? He barely felt the blow to his head as his world turned black.
#
Hubbard was working on accounts in his suite at the bell tower when he smelled Leonard. Coupled with his familiar raisin and oak scent was the tang of blood. And something else—fear.
In a flash, he was at his side.
"Have you seen Jack?" Leonard demanded, a wild expression on his face. His t-shirt was stained with blood. His anguish washed over Hubbard in waves.
"No, I assumed he was with you. What happened?"
"We were attacked on the way home. I lost consciousness. When I woke up, Jack was gone." Leonard choked back a sob. "I searched all the surroundings but lost his scent. He must have been transported away."
"Tell me exactly what happened." As Leonard related the few facts, Hubbard shared his fear.
"A witch cast a spell over us," Leonard insisted. "I couldn't see a thing in the fog. I couldn't even yell. Who would do such a thing?"
"Certainly not a member of our flock, and I haven't heard of any witches visiting London." Hubbard's words trailed off. The world had changed since the days when most of London was within his domain. Witches from overseas visited England all the time, and he had little knowledge of them.
"Think, Leonard," he urged. "Do you know of any witch who could bear a grudge against you or Jack?"
He shook his head, his expression growing increasingly haggard. "The last time we had any confrontation was over 150 years ago. That was when Gerbert's daughter Juliette partnered with a witch to kidnap other witches."
"That witch was Noora Järvinen. She was Finnish as I recall."
Leonard nodded. "She would have died long ago. If members of her family wanted revenge, they would have acted well before now."
"And probably attacked the Normans as well as you and Jack," Hubbard agreed.
He insisted on Leonard drinking some blood mixed with wine from a supply he kept in the refrigerator. They then hit the streets together. Jack's scent at the scene of the assault was strong. But after a few paces, it vanished. Leonard was right. He must have been transported away. But why?
Jack didn't have any known enemies. It was ludicrous to think he'd been kidnapped by someone wanting a ransom. Revenge was a possible motive. Not against him, but against Hubbard.
A witch from overseas could bear a personal grudge, for instance. Perhaps someone disagreed with Hubbard's policy of sampling blood and abducted Jack as a means of getting to him. Leonard and Jack lived in the bell tower with him. Their closeness wasn't a secret. Jack would be an easier target since he wasn't as strong as Leonard, but hardly anyone was aware of that.
He and Leonard spent the rest of the night and the following day scouring the surroundings. Hubbard summoned all the vampires in his flock to assist, but Jack's trail had vanished.
Was Leonard also at risk? Anyone seeking vengeance could target him too, but as the days passed, no threats or demands were received. Leonard's despair was overwhelming. Hubbard's efforts to comfort him were futile.
Whoever abducted Jack was undoubtedly an outsider. Hubbard questioned all the creatures in his flock for news of a witch visiting London but came up blank. Now, more than ever he missed Philippe. With his passing, there was no de Clermont he could turn to.
Leonard reached out to Freyja, Pierre, and Françoise. They all promised to relay any news of a witch conducting a vendetta against vampires. Jack had been targeted once before in France when a witch sought revenge for her daughter being assaulted by a vampire. But that was almost two hundred years ago. Surely Jack wouldn't have been misidentified once more but what other explanation was there?
Chelm, Poland. August 2007.
Benjamin paused to scan the cell through the barred window before stepping inside. Jack lay in a stupor. The corpses next to him appeared untouched. This was growing tiresome. Benjamin would have to force the blood down him once more. A distasteful chore, but the results made it worthwhile.
The whelp's earlier resistance was crumbling away thanks to the false memories Satu planted. Soon Jack would be his perfect little monster.
Benjamin still had a hard time believing his good fortune. When Satu reported that Diana Roydon's brat was now a vampire, Benjamin flew to London to personally oversee his abduction. His initial plan was to search the whelp's blood for any information relating to the Book of Life. Instead, he discovered a treasure trove of other priceless secrets. Jack was Hubbard's whelp. A witch had foretold the devastation he'd bring if he drank human blood, and Benjamin intended to make the prophecy come true.
Discovering that the Roydon witch was a timewalker was a valuable nugget he'd hold in reserve for now. Jack didn't know when she'd reappear. Until she did, Benjamin's plans for her would remain on the shelf along with Matthew's destruction.
The project Benjamin had initially designed for Juliette would now be carried out by his new pawn. First, Benjamin would turn him into a murderer. Then when he was completely broken, Benjamin would toss him at Matthew's feet so he'd realize the blame all lay on him. Guilt would gnaw at Matthew from the inside out.
Benjamin watched as the whelp staggered to his feet. Time for another force-feeding. Jack's resistance was at a low ebb. Soon he would be ready to be unleashed on the world—under Benjamin's careful supervision, of course.
Where should they strike first? Saint Petersburg, perhaps. Jack had happy memories of his time there with Leonard and Bryn. Satu would have plenty of raw material to manipulate him.
London. October 2007.
Hubbard paused a review of his accounts to study Leonard. The pup was typing furiously on his laptop. At Hubbard's urging, Leonard worked with him in his office suite whenever he was home. They both needed companionship.
Months had passed without any news of Jack. If he were still alive, he surely would have found a way to contact them by now. But Leonard refused to accept Jack's death. His actions were an eerie reminder of the way Jack had been as a child—insisting that Diana and Matthew would return to him, haunting the quays daily for news about them.
Now it was Leonard who spent every spare moment combing the news sites for anything that could shed light on Jack's disappearance. He corresponded with every vampire, daemon, and witch he could think of for information, checking back with them regularly for updates.
Leonard kept all of Jack's belongings in their usual places. He tuned Jack's instruments as if he would step through the door the next day. Who was Hubbard to protest such devotion? That faith could be what kept Leonard sane.
Although Jack and Leonard had been lovers for over three hundred years, Hubbard hadn't considered them mates in the traditional vampire sense. He'd gone along with the conventional wisdom that such bonds were only possible for vampires who were at least in their mid-twenties before they were turned. But the depth of Leonard's devotion gave him pause. No mate could be more attached.
Hubbard had spoken at length with Cicely Wilson about the situation. On his recommendation, Cicely asked Leonard to work longer hours at Bridewell Studio. The tasks gave him something constructive to do until he finally accepted that Jack was gone. She was careful to assure him that Jack would be welcome to return to the studio as soon as he was able to although, like Hubbard, she believed that would never happen.
He refocused on Leonard when the tapping of keys stopped. The pup was staring at the display, a grim look on his face.
"What's wrong?" Hubbard asked as he approached him.
"Two people were found murdered in Saint Petersburg," Leonard said, scanning a webpage.
"What makes a couple of murder victims so special?"
"They were drained of blood, that's why. I'll write Bryn for details."
"It could be a vampire with blood rage," Hubbard said, troubled by the news.
Leonard nodded and tapped the screen. "This could be the link I've been seeking. You remember the vampire who was targeting witches in the early 1800s?"
"Juliette?"
"No, earlier, in France. A witch in Auvergne sought to take revenge on Jack for her daughter having been violated by a vampire. He was never found. What if he has resurfaced? Now in addition to attacking witches, he's also killing humans."
Andrew took his time replying. He disliked having to squelch Leonard's latest theory, but he needed to face reality. "I hope you're not saying that the family of that witch waited two hundred years and then targeted Jack once more?"
Leonard grimaced. "Of course not, but maybe Jack resembles this renegade vampire."
"If a witch was holding him prisoner, wouldn't the murders in Saint Petersburg reveal she had the wrong person?"
"Not if she was blinded by vengeance," Leonard said stubbornly, shoving a hand through his overly long hair. "She might think multiple vampires were responsible."
Andrew didn't argue further but returned to his accounts. Eventually, Leonard would realize that he'd need to shelve yet another theory.
An hour later, Bryn replied to his email, reporting that the murders could have been caused by a vampire with blood rage, but there weren't any leads. Yet another dead end.
Months became years. Leonard no longer spoke of his theories, but he maintained his grueling pace of contacting creatures. Andrew hoped the nightly ritual of tuning Jack's instruments provided a measure of solace. Leonard only rarely played the guitar, and when he did it was never something he and Jack had performed together.
The murders by exsanguination also continued—not only in Europe but in Asia. How many others went undiscovered? Hubbard was more than ever convinced that blood rage was driving the killer. But who? Matthew was the only one alive who Hubbard knew had blood rage but he kept his impulses firmly under control.
In August 2009, three victims were found in London. Rumors began to spread of a madman who copied fictional vampires to commit his crimes. The members of the Congregation were undoubtedly beside themselves. More than ever, Hubbard kept a careful eye on the creatures in his flock. His domain was an island refuge in an increasingly hostile world.
Venice. March 2010.
Domenico found Aurora at her favorite caffè in the Piazza San Marco. He dropped into a seat opposite her after brushing her cheek with a kiss. "Venice rejoices you're back in town, and I most of all."
She'd spent the past decade in Japan. He'd arranged his affairs to spend more time in Asia as well. Events in China provided new opportunities, and frankly, it was a relief to conduct business far away from Gerbert. But Venice was a siren that called to both of them.
Her dimples formed as she smiled at him. "I'm starving for news. What have you heard about the Congregation? I thought they weren't planning to meet for months."
"Doesn't Gerbert keep you informed?" he teased.
She frowned. "He's more close-mouthed than ever." She leaned forward to murmur, "And that made me all the more curious."
He dropped his voice to a barely audible whisper. "The Congregation is meeting about the murders. Many believe a vampire with blood rage is committing them."
She lowered her voice as well. "I thought authorities are convinced a copycat serial killer is responsible."
"That's the rumor being spread by Gerbert's sons."
"If Father is involved ..."
He gave a slow nod. He knew she would read his unspoken thought. Gerbert believed a vampire was guilty. No known cases of blood rage were alive, although there had been rumors about Matthew de Clermont. Gerbert would have no reason to protect Matthew from the Congregation.
"Any suspects come to mind?" he asked.
"Benjamin. I know he's supposed to be dead, but what if he isn't? Father allied himself with Benjamin for centuries. What if he spread rumors about Benjamin's death to cloak his activities?"
Domenico remained silent, puzzling over a possible motive. Aurora had worked as an intermediary between Gerbert and Benjamin. She'd learned to despise Matthew's son, calling him the cruelest person she'd ever known. If Benjamin was alive, he could be the serial killer. If he were, would Gerbert shield him from discovery?
"Could you find out if Benjamin is alive?" he asked.
"I'll try," she promised.
"I'll work my contacts too." Depending on what they discovered, he and Aurora could topple Gerbert and emerge as the top power brokers.
A week later Aurora met him in his palazzo. Renaissance portraits of his family and friends hung on the walls of the salon. Niccolo Machiavelli had been a close friend of his. He would have nodded knowingly at their activities.
Domenico opened a bottle of Barolo as he reported on his success. "Your sire has done the unthinkable—allied himself with a witch."
Aurora's mouth dropped. "But he hates witches!"
"And I'm sure that hasn't changed. But in the name of expediency, he is assisting Peter Knox in his search for the Book of Life. I don't doubt that once it's found, he'll dispose of Knox."
Aurora frowned as she smoothed the tapestry cloth on the table. "This can't end well. I also have news. I learned that Benjamin is alive, and not only that. Father's been keeping in touch with him. I'm convinced Benjamin is involved with the murders. He must have some hold on Father to keep him from bringing up the crimes to the Congregation. Perhaps it's the Book of Life."
Domenico handed Aurora a glass of wine as he considered their options. "Two of Gerbert's sons are currently in Venice. From now on, I'll ensure they're under constant surveillance." One, in particular, had a weakness for women. Domenico's daughter Francesca was just the sort to appeal to him, and she'd enjoy the challenge.
Baldwin de Clermont probably wasn't interested in rumors about Benjamin. Just as well. He was miserly in transactions. In any case, Domenico would need hard proof. Could Gerbert be involved with Jack Blackfriars' disappearance? Domenico continued to receive emails from Leonard. The only possible connection was if Gerbert believed Jack knew about the Book of Life. But in that case, he would have pried away Jack's secrets long ago.
London. April 2010.
Leonard was walking home late at night from the Dog and Whistle when he smelled a familiar scent. An instant later, Domenico was strolling beside him. It was the first time Leonard had ever encountered him in Father H's domain, and his heart immediately leaped to his throat. "You heard something about Jack?"
Domenico nodded. "I wanted to tell you in person."
"He's alive?"
"Perhaps, but you need to understand the circumstances." Domenico nodded toward the embankment. "Let's take a seat along the quay. We'll be less conspicuous."
Leonard found himself gasping as if he'd run across France. He'd never given up hope, but Domenico's grim expression forced him to temper his joy. "Tell me what you know," he pleaded.
"Know is a challenging word. This information comes from Aurora and me. We're not always the most reliable sources but we owe you and Jack. You can trust what I tell you is all that we've been able to discover."
Never had Leonard been so grateful that he and Jack rescued Aurora from the guillotine during the Terror.
"Have you heard of Benjamin Fox?" Domenico asked. "He's Matthew de Clermont's son."
"Yes, the family believes he died in the eighteenth century."
"The rumors of his death are incorrect. Gerbert has shielded him for centuries. They're working together to find the Book of Life. Aurora and I wondered if Benjamin could be involved in the rash of exsanguination murders. Our suspicions were confirmed when one of Gerbert's sons let slip—don't ask how—that Benjamin is responsible for the attacks. He also said that Benjamin captured a vampire in July 2007, a young blond Englishman named Jack."
Leonard choked on his breath.
"Steady," Domenico cautioned. "You're going to need all your wits and a strong dose of luck to rescue him. Benjamin has blood rage and supposedly so does Jack. A witch named Satu Järvinen is assisting Benjamin. She's casting spells to control Jack. Possibly she convinced him he has blood rage even though he doesn't. With her involvement, nothing is certain."
"Do you know where they are?"
"No, but Jack reportedly escaped several times only to be recaptured. Two months ago, he managed to flee once more. Benjamin hasn't located him yet. Aurora and I believe that if we can find Benjamin, there's a good chance Jack will be there too."
"Then you'll continue the search?"
"Yes, we'll keep you informed."
"I don't have much money but you can have—"
"Keep it," Domenico said quickly. "Unmasking Gerbert will be our reward. But you need to understand, Jack most likely won't be as you remembered."
"That doesn't matter. Nothing does except rescuing him."
#
Cicely Wilson eyed Leonard's determined face. He'd appeared in her office as soon as she arrived at work. "I won't attempt to dissuade you," she said. "I'm sure Andrew already reminded you of the obstacles you'll face."
Leonard had arrived with a file of documents. He'd probably worked through the night to finish his outstanding projects.
"I can't just go about my normal routine while waiting for news," Leonard said, his blue eyes looking more haunted than ever. "Jack is my life and now that I know he's spent the past three years being tortured by a madman—"
"I would go with you if I could," Cicely said, placing her hand over his. Many of the employees of Bridewell Studio were members of Andrew's flock. She'd meant what she said. They were all bound together by ties of loyalty. Leonard hadn't revealed who abducted Jack but it had to be either a witch or another vampire. No one else would be strong enough. "What is your plan?"
"As soon as I get a lead, I'll scour the area. Somewhere I'm bound to find Jack's scent. I've got contacts in most capitals." He shrugged awkwardly. "He's out there somewhere."
He didn't continue the thought, but she knew he wouldn't come back till he'd either found Jack or had definitive proof of his death.
"Let me know when you've targeted a region. You're not the only one with contacts. The Wilsons have close relations with daemons throughout Europe. I'll put them in touch with you."
"Thank you, Cicely. The Normans are spearheading the effort among witches. You give me hope that I'll succeed."