Scenting Hallowed Blood Page 12

  ‘You don’t have to be here later if you don’t want to be,’ Lahash said. ‘You could wait at my place, although it’s hardly palatial.’

  Aninka realised that he was trying to sound considerate. It only depressed her.

  Chapter Ten

  The Night of Cankered Stars

  The corridor was long, stretching away into infinity, into darkness. At the end of it, behind a door presently hidden in shadow, a blind star blazed. Daniel trudged down the corridor with aching calves; his legs were reluctant to make this visit never mind his mind, his heart. What lived in the room was never far from Daniel’s mind. It lurked there, like something he didn’t want to do and had forcibly forgotten, or something to be faced in the future that he dreaded. What lived there was the ghost of his first love.

  The door handle was beneath his hand; he turned it.

  The room behind was dingy and empty but for a mattress set upon the floor against one of the walls. On this, Owen Winter sat like a pale, carven effigy, his white-gold hair upon his shoulders, his body clad in white, in the way Emma was keen on dressing him. He stared at the door with his dark eyes, but seemed to see nothing.

  Daniel, Owen’s erstwhile lover, came into the room. Owen neither blinked nor stirred.

  ‘How are you?’ Daniel asked, venturing into the brown light, which contained the blazing star.

  Owen said nothing.

  Daniel squatted down on the floor before the bed. He looked up at Owen’s chiselled features, his radiant, angelic beauty, and the past came back. He remembered the time Owen had come to pick him up from school in his old car — it seemed centuries before Peverel Othman had ruined their lives. Daniel recalled walking toward the car, drinking in the sight of Owen’s long, liquid body draped against the bonnet. Daniel’s heart had hammered in desire and fear, because he had not known then that Owen loved him. He remembered the first time they had truly made love, and the visions of Shemyaza that had come to him, vistas of ancient history opening before his eyes, ignited by passion. He thought of these things, but then, because it came afterward, he remembered the dark ritual enacted upon the High Place in the woods, when Owen had become a stranger, who could rape and witness murder without a thought. Othman had done something to Owen, something bad. If the essence of Owen lived in the body still, it was hidden very deep. Daniel had tried to reach out and in to Owen’s mind, to retrieve the spirit of the one he loved, but the barriers were beyond his penetration. Now, he could hardly bear to look upon Owen’s face, because he was still, in his autism, so lovely.

  ‘I had to come and talk to you,’ Daniel said. He did not wait now for responses. ‘I’ve met someone — a man — and tonight I’m going out with him. I don’t know what will happen, or whether I really want this. It felt good today, talking to him. I’m sorry, O, I think I have to do this. You’ve left me, and there’s nothing I can do about that.’ He wanted to lean forward and kiss Owen’s bloodless mouth, but couldn’t force himself to. He was afraid the flesh would be cold and stiff. This corpse lived.

  Because there was nothing more to say, and he felt he had performed his penance, Daniel left the room.

  For a while, nothing changed in the dim, brown room. Then a glister came to the cheek of Owen Winter, and a single tear rolled down it to fall upon his listless hands where they lay in his lap. A single tear; nothing more. But the room shook to the etheric echo of a silent, agonised scream.

  Daniel found Lily in Johcasta’s room, having her hair plaited with ribbons and beads. Lily glanced at Daniel in the mirror. ‘Did you do it?’

  Daniel nodded and sat glumly on the end of Johcasta’s bed. He could tell Lily was excited about their proposed night out, although it had been she who’d suggested that Daniel should visit Owen beforehand. ‘Something is happening at last,’ she’d said, when Daniel had nervously asked her if she’d like to go out for the evening. ‘And it gives me an excuse to ask Israel out.’

  Daniel did not relish having to spend time in Israel’s company, who scared him, but realised that Israel was part of the deal if Lily was to be his chaperone. She seemed less interested in the fact that Daniel had met a man, than that it had allowed her diversions of her own.

  ‘Have you told Emma?’ Lily asked.

  Daniel shook his head. ‘No. She’d object.’

  Lily nodded. ‘Yeah, best not to say anything.’ Johcasta had lent her a red velvet dress, which virtually swept the floor. Radiant in the candlelight of Johcasta’s room, Lily looked like a medieval princess, some enchanted creature awoken from sorcerous sleep. Daniel wished he could share her enthusiasm. Now, he regretted having agreed to meet Jack, and felt on edge and embarrassed. Yet hadn’t his strange experience the night before presaged that he wanted or needed physical comfort? For a moment, in the cafe that morning, he’d felt he’d recognised Jack. Perhaps his body was calling out for a lover, and coincidence had aligned to allow Jack to walk into his life. Despite this admission, he still couldn’t dispel his uneasiness. What the hell am I doing? he wondered, and blamed the beer at lunchtime.

  Israel made an appearance in Johcasta’s room at eight, bearing bottles of red wine. He was resplendent in black leather trousers and a minimal black T-shirt, the dark skin of his arms gleaming dully like forbidden fruit. His eyes burned with a speculative light as he contemplated casually the vision of Lily in the glass. She looked so small before him that Daniel worried for her. He saw Israel as a demon, who could break her neck like the stem of a flower.

  Before they left, Johcasta insisted on casting her stones for them. Daniel had consumed two large glasses of wine too quickly, which had succeeded only in burning his stomach, while leaving his head untouched. He felt sick with nerves.

  The others in the room seemed oblivious of his condition, as Lily excitedly rubbed the handful of stones between her palms. When they fell, Johcasta let out an awed gasp.

  ‘What is it?’ Lily pleaded. ‘Tell me!’

  Johcasta grinned and gestured with outspread fingers at the fallen stones. ‘Tonight will be a time of great happenings,’ she pronounced. ‘Marmoset the lover lies close to Zahtumuzgi, the queen of serpents. Exciting secrets wait to be discovered in the trance of passion.’

  Daniel let out a groan, prompting a quizzical glance from Israel. ‘The boy’s fretting,’ he said and laughed. There was a moment’s awkward silence, then Israel said. ‘Here, will this help?’ He held out what looked like a joint.

  Daniel grimaced. ‘Not with wine, no.’

  ‘It’s not what you think,’ Israel told him. ‘Try it.’ He lit the roll-up and a sweet, herby scent swirled around him, more perfumed than marijuana.

  ‘What is it?’ Lily asked.

  ‘Haoma,’ Israel answered, ‘an old intoxicant of our people.’ He offered the joint to Daniel. ‘Go on, it’ll settle your stomach and your mind.’

  Daniel snatched it off him and drew in a large lungful. For a moment, the air sparkled before his eyes, then a languorous wave swept through his blood, like loving hands reaching up to cup his mind.

  ‘Better already!’ Israel said.

  Daniel had arranged to meet Jack in The Black Dolphin, a pub close to the square. By the time they’d made the short walk to place, Daniel’s spirits had lifted, which he supposed was the gift of the haoma. He also felt slightly unsteady on his feet, and his mind hummed, as if he was on the verge of hallucinating. The pub was quite full, and for a moment, Daniel panicked, wondering whether he’d actually recognise Jack again. It was Lily who spotted the figure with his back to them, leaning against the bar. ‘Long hair,’ she whispered. ‘That him?’

  ‘Um — I think so.’ Daniel wasn’t convinced.

  Lily swept up to the bar, leaving Israel standing by the door with Daniel. ‘Hmm!’ Israel murmured. He sounded faintly perplexed or displeased.

  ‘What is it?’ Daniel asked him.

  Israel shrugged and glanced down his nose at Daniel. ‘Has a scent to him, that one.’

  ‘What do you me
an?’

  Israel shook his head. ‘Don’t know. Yet.’ He smiled.

  Daniel noticed Lily inspecting the male figure at the bar discreetly as she ordered their drinks. Then she tapped him on the shoulder and spoke. The man turned round quickly. It was Jack.

  ‘Grigori!’ Israel hissed.

  And Daniel answered, ‘No, no he’s not. I’d know, Israel. I really would.’ He didn’t want to say ‘I’m psychic’, because it would sound absurdly melodramatic. Also, it would be too much of a coincidence meeting another Grigori so quickly, unless... No, he mustn’t think that. Shem was probably right. There was no-one chasing them. ‘He’s just tall. Not every tall person’s Grigori, you know!’

  Israel shrugged and smiled. ‘Maybe he’s human, then. The sweet weed’s playing tricks. Perhaps.’

  Jack came over with Lily, carrying a drink, which he handed to Daniel. Daniel noticed the quick, intense glance Jack directed at Israel. Was there a hint of nervousness there, the fear of recognition? No, get a grip! Daniel scolded himself. He felt small in the circle of towering people. He wasn’t short, but the other three were unnaturally tall. Now, he wished he hadn’t been so greedy with the haoma. It was clearly warping his perceptions.

  After five minutes of stilted introductions, Jack skilfully put the group at ease. He spoke with a sly, compelling wit, flashing his eyes flirtatiously at Lily. He is perfect, Daniel thought. There were elements of Owen in Jack; the litheness, the clever sarcasm, the apartness from Daniel that meant only later you’ll be mine. But a faint, barely discernible alarm was ringing in his head. Had Israel caused that with his suspicions, which only served to augment Emma’s paranoia? Last night, Daniel had been convinced that someone had found them, but perhaps that had been only a presentiment of what was to come. He could not be sure he’d seen dark figures motionless beneath the trees below his window.

  Jack took them to a club that was hidden away down a side-alley, far from the hissing main roads of the city. Ancient warehouses loomed high to either side. At ground level, it could be seen that they were now all nightclubs, but the windows of the upper storeys were occluded. Lights could not be seen, nor the throb of music heard. Jack led them to a narrow doorway, where gleams of purple light spilled out onto the street. Shadowy figures skulked there, some hunched against the wall, sitting down. It was named The Holy City Zoo.

  Inside, Jack insisted on paying entrance for all four of them. They paused at a red-lit booth, where a girl in predatory drag clawed money through a wire mesh. Daniel pulled an agonised face as he heard the price, but said nothing. Jack, after all, had claimed he could afford it.

  The club comprised a series of linked rooms, none of which were very large, all of which were either full of dry ice, or the lighting was so low it was impossible to see anything but the bar. Heavy ambient dub oozed from the sound system like molasses over stones. The clientele was mixed; a jumble of nearly every youth sub-culture.

  Lily was eager to dance, her body moving involuntarily to the summoning of the music. She was a tawny cat slinking and stretching before the pantherine grace of Israel, who watched her with a smiling, feline eye. Daniel felt an urge to warn her. He was trying to enjoy himself and relinquish the nagging sense of unease, but it was fixed to him like a parasite.

  The group gathered in a booth against one of the walls. Daniel sipped his beer, but didn’t feel like drinking. Lily and Israel kept the conversation going, and Jack joined in, but Daniel could tell he was perplexed by Daniel’s mood. When Lily and Israel got up to dance, Jack addressed the situation. ‘What’s up?’ There was accusation in the question as well as wariness.

  Daniel shrugged. ‘I’m just not in the right mood for this.’ He forced himself to smile. ‘It’s not your fault, I mean, it’s nothing to do with you.’

  ‘So what are your problems?’

  You don’t really want to know, Daniel thought. This is just a line. ‘Nothing really.’ He was assaulted by a vision of Owen left alone in the Assembly Rooms, while Emma and Shem watched TV together in terse silence. Suddenly, they all seemed so vulnerable. An urge to get back there swept through him. He almost stood up. ‘I think I want to go home...’

  ‘Don’t,’ Jack said, and the word sounded like a command. When Daniel looked at him, he’d softened it with a conciliatory smile. ‘Just give it a chance, OK? An hour?’

  Daniel sighed. ‘All right.’ He hoped he could bear this feeling of anxiety for an hour. He glanced at Jack, and saw the potential just waiting to be taken. This might never happen again.

  The next hour passed quickly, as Daniel drank steadily in an attempt to quell his uneasiness. Jack chatted smoothly about music, films and clubs he’d frequented, taking care to ask Daniel questions about his own tastes. To Daniel, it seemed absurdly to have been scripted, as if they were actors on celluloid, moving towards the bedroom scene, when the audience’s hopes and hungers would be gratified. Only Daniel intended for there to be no bedroom scene. He had no desire for it, felt too sick.

  Lily and Israel seemed to be getting on very well, performing the dance of flirtation to mutual satisfaction. Occasionally, they’d come back to the table and drink hurriedly, before moving back to the dance floor, which was beginning to fill up with shadowy figures. More dry ice puffed into the air, until Daniel could believe that he and Jack were the only people in the room.

  ‘Something’s gone off-key since this afternoon,’ Jack said.

  ‘You’re too impatient.’ Daniel couldn’t keep the sharpness from his voice. ‘We’ve only just met. What do you want from me?’

  Jack recoiled. ‘Was that called for?’

  Daniel shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know this world. It’s alien to me.’ Jack couldn’t possibly guess he was referring to casual relationships, the careless use of the bodies of others.

  Jack slumped back on his seat, scowling, a bottle of beer nursed in his lap.

  You are beautiful, Daniel thought, but empty. I thought I wanted to touch you, but I don’t. You won’t let me reach the places I want to touch. With this thought, he glanced at his watch. The hour was nearly up. The only problem he had was how to find his way back to the square without an A-Z street guide. Perhaps Lily and Israel would accompany him, although he doubted that. They were too engrossed in their own mating ritual. Daniel began to compose his departure speech. One or two mordant remarks wouldn’t go amiss.

  Then Jack raised his head. ‘Don’t bother thinking of the excuses. I’ve made a mess of this. Sorry.’

  ‘What?’ Daniel felt unnerved.

  ‘What you were thinking. You want to leave. You do fancy me a bit, although you also think I’m an airhead. The only thing that’s keeping you here is that you don’t think you can find your way back to the square without an A-Z and Lily’s having too good a time to go home yet.’ Jack grinned at Daniel’s shocked expression. ‘That’s right. I’m psychic. Like you are. Do you still want to go home?’

  Daniel shook his head slowly, his eyes round. ‘Not yet. Not now. I can’t go home now. How did you know about me?’

  Jack laughed. ‘I told you, I’m psychic! Like calls to like, as they say. Want more proof? You had a lover called Owen, who’s very ill now. Breakdown?’ He shrugged at Daniel’s stunned stillness. ‘You haven’t got a job and you live in a weird old place that feels very... temporary.’

  ‘Stop it,’ Daniel said. ‘Don’t do this. It’s an abuse.’

  ‘I’m not prying, just trying to convince you. Your secrets are safe, I promise.’

  Daniel put down his drink. ‘This is weird. I’ve never met anyone who can do this. I mean, I know other psychic people, and sometimes, under certain conditions, I’ve experienced things with Owen, but this...’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not sure I like it.’

  Jack put up his hands. ‘I’ll back off, OK. I’ll keep my ears closed.’

  ‘Good.’

  Jack was silent for a few moments, then took a deep breath and said, ‘I’ve been through hell, Daniel
. I think we can help each other.’

  Daniel glanced at him cautiously. ‘What makes you think I’ve been through hell?’

  Jack just shrugged significantly.

  Daniel didn’t think Jack’s hell could be anything like his own. Neither could he imagine ever confiding his experiences to a comparative stranger. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to take this on. He had enough problems of his own without someone else leeching off his emotional energy. But still, Jack was before him; splendid. This just needed thinking about. There would be plenty of time.

  ‘Let’s go for a walk,’ Jack said, and stood up.

  They ventured into another room, where the light was red. Here, they sat against the wall, drinking in silence, watching the dancers writhe. Then, Jack put down his bottle, which was empty. ‘Come on, let’s dance.’ He was on his feet before Daniel had finished swallowing his drink.

  They moved in among the moving bodies, and Daniel let the music take him. It was easier than he thought it would be. There was no break in the music: one track flowed into another; tribal rhythms, electronic throbbing. Daniel danced with his eyes closed, feeling the liquor swirl round his brain. It felt good now, as if he’d drunk more than he had. Perhaps the haoma was partly responsible. He was relaxed. Someone put their arms around him, and he opened his eyes. Jack. For a moment, he panicked, glancing round himself, but no-one was looking. No-one cared. They danced together, bodies close, belly-grinding to the rhythm, invoking the demands of lust. Jack pulled Daniel closer, sought his mouth in a kiss. They stopped dancing. A girl came and threw her arms around them both. ‘You’re beautiful!’ she screamed. ‘I love you!’

  Jack grinned and mouthed. ‘Happy drug!’ They moved to the side of the dance floor.

  Daniel realised he was extremely drunk and began to laugh in a high, uncontrollable way. Jack pushed him against the wall again and slid down to sit beside him. He looked dazed, not altogether happy. Daniel touched his face, and Jack glanced at him, took his hand in his own.