Scenting Hallowed Blood Page 4

  Inside, the cafe was full of people reading newspapers and eating breakfast. Some talked together while others sat alone. The smell of frying bacon and ketchup made Daniel salivate. He was hungry, properly hungry, almost as if his body had been on shutdown for the three weeks he’d been in the square and merely taking the step of entering the cafe had woken up his system. Daniel sat down on a stool by the window, where a shelf acted as a table. An empty plate smeared with red sauce lay beside an over-flowing ashtray. The smell of stale tobacco and fried food did not combine pleasantly. Someone had left a newspaper, folded up, next to the plate. Daniel opened it out. It felt as if he hadn’t seen a paper for years for he shied away from looking at those which Emma brought back to the Rooms, in case he found some mention of their disappearance. Now, after several weeks, and away from the oppressive air of the Rooms, he dared to confront the news. Had the world moved on without him?

  As he began to turn the pages a middle-aged woman in an overall came up to him. She had permed hair and red lipstick, and her scarlet nails were long and looked hard. She held a note-pad. ‘What’ll it be?’

  Daniel stared at her for a moment, wondering what significance her words held for him. Then he came to his senses and said, ‘A cup of tea.’

  The woman pulled a rueful face. ‘Sorry, love, it’s breakfast only at this time. You’ll have to order something to eat.’ Her pen, a nibbled Biro, was poised over the pad.

  ‘I’ve only got a quid,’ Daniel said, realising the words were inadequate, but what else could he say?

  ‘Toast is one pound, fifty. That’s the cheapest on the menu.’ The woman put her pen into a pocket of her overall. Her face became harder. Presently, she would ask him to leave.

  Daniel opened his mouth helplessly. He didn’t want to leave yet. He wanted to remain in the warmth, amid the sense of life. He wanted to read the paper and listen to the conversations of the other patrons. ‘Could I have half a slice of toast?’ He smiled hopefully.

  He could see the woman was considering it, probably because he was young and pretty. He was glad he’d bothered to keep himself clean. At least he didn’t look like a vagrant.

  ‘Sorry, love.’ She took a step back to give him room to stand up.

  Daniel gave her a wistful smile and slipped off the stool. Perhaps he could go back to the Rooms and ask Emma for money. He knew she still had some cash left, even though she had forbidden the rest of them from trying to use cash-points, in case they left traces of their presence in the city. She was careful with her money, but Daniel knew she had a soft spot for him, and might give him a few pounds. Then Daniel realised that once he was back in the Rooms, the freedom spell would be broken and the idea of sitting in the cafe would no longer seem attractive. Maybe he could come back another day. Even as he was thinking this, he knew it wouldn’t happen. Today, the time had been right, but something had blocked his plans. Something was blocking all of their plans, he was sure.

  Just as he was about to leave, he heard a low-pitched woman’s voice say, ‘Excuse me.’ And something made him pause.

  The waitress turned round, dismissing Daniel from her attention, and reached for her pen again. Daniel saw an immaculately dressed young woman sitting at one of the tables smiling up at the waitress. Her voice, well-modulated and smooth as dark liquor, indicated she knew she was attractive. She said, ‘Give the boy toast and tea. I don’t mind paying.’

  ‘You sure?’ The waitress seemed to doubt the stranger’s altruism.

  The young woman nodded. ‘Yes.’ She turned her attention to Daniel. ‘Would you mind if I bought you breakfast?’

  Daniel shrugged, bemused. ‘Er... no.’ Something had slipped; one of the blocks had shifted. He could feel it in his mind; huge dark slabs of impenetrable stone grinding out of place.

  ‘Sit down,’ said the young woman, and gestured elegantly at a free space on her table. Two of the other places were taken by other young women, but both were intent on reading magazines. They were not with his benefactress, Daniel could tell. They were drab and empty, while she was alight with energy. Her dark tailored suit looked expensive and she smelled strongly of perfume, a sweet, exotic scent. She was very beautiful, with a long, pale, well-sculpted face and dark brows. Her hair hung straight and glossy down her back, very black.

  Daniel sat down. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I do have money at home, but it was a bit of an impulse thing coming in here.’

  ‘On your way to work?’ the woman asked.

  Daniel could tell by the tone of her voice that she did not believe he had a job. Indignation made him reply, ‘Yes.’

  The woman raised her brows and sipped from a mug of tea. She had an empty plate before her, on which reposed a knife and toast crumbs. A blob of marmalade remained on the edge of the plate. She was immaculate and feline, which suggested aloofness, but her crumbs and her unused marmalade warmed Daniel to her, made her seem human and approachable. ‘What’s your line of business?’ she enquired.

  ‘I work in a conference hall.’ Daniel didn’t feel that was absolutely untrue. At one time the Assembly Rooms must have been used as such.

  ‘And where’s that?’

  Daniel wondered whether the woman was simply making conversation or had some kind of sinister interest in him. He recalled lurid stories of people who preyed on those they considered runaways, turning them into drug addicts and prostitutes. ‘Nearby,’ he answered vaguely.

  The woman seemed to sense he objected to her questions. ‘I’m sorry, I’m not prying. I just fancy some company today.’

  ‘Oh.’ Daniel looked round himself, unsure of what to say. Eventually, he thought of, ‘do you work round here too?’

  ‘At the moment,’ she replied, nodding, the tea mug held in two hands before her face. ‘But I don’t know how long for.’

  ‘What do you do?’

  ‘I’m a researcher.’ The woman smiled widely, a smile that seemed to invite Daniel in, while excluding the rest of the world. Her friendliness and openness were quite at odds with her rather forbidding appearance. Perhaps she was a bit peculiar.

  ‘Oh, you must work in reference libraries and places like that, then,’ Daniel said, hoping to sound as if he knew what he was talking about. Why, over the past three weeks, did he seem to be growing younger rather than older? At the moment, he felt about twelve; gangly and wordless, rather than eighteen, a newly matured young man.

  ‘That’s right,’ said the woman.

  The waitress came over with Daniel’s tea and toast, and handed his benefactress a bill. ‘Thank you,’ she said politely, putting it on top of her own next to her plate. ‘Might I have another round of toast myself?’

  As the waitress went back behind the counter, Daniel’s new friend took out a cigarette. ‘Do you mind?’ She had already lit up.

  Daniel smiled and shook his head. ‘No.’ It reminded him of Emma, who smoked as and when she felt like it, with little regard for whether it was permitted or not, or what other people might think.

  ‘My name’s Eve,’ said the woman.

  ‘Daniel.’

  For a split second, a strange expression crossed the woman’s face. It was almost as if Daniel had just confirmed his identity in her mind, and that she’d suspected who he was. That, surely, was impossible. He bit into his toast, and then felt his stomach churn. She must have seen the colour drop from his face.

  Hadn’t Emma drummed into them a thousand times that other Grigori would undoubtedly have pursued Shemyaza? Could Eve be one of his pursuers, lying in wait here, day after day, hoping one of Shem’s companions might drop in? The implications were terrifying, suggesting that they knew already where Shem and his companions were.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  Daniel glanced at Eve, noticing how her brows were creased in what seemed to be genuine concern. ‘What?’

  ‘You look like you just had a hideous realisation!’ She laughed. ‘Are you thinking of how it’s not very wise to get into conversations with strange
rs in the big, bad city?’ She seemed to find it highly amusing that she might be considered a threat. Daniel attempted to extend his senses to see if he could pick up anything that smelled of danger, but he felt too confused and hectic to concentrate.

  ‘It’s nothing. I — er — just remembered something I’ve forgotten to do.’ Perhaps he should have given a false name, just to be on the safe side.

  ‘I can tell you’re not a native Londoner,’ Eve said, smiling, ‘but then neither am I. I’ve become very adept at spotting foreigners to the city. If you live here long enough, you change, and become like all the others.’ She glanced at the other women sitting opposite and lowered her voice. ‘They would never talk to strangers. Only mad people talk to one another in London if they’re not already friends.’

  Eve’s second helping of toast arrived and for a couple of minutes both of them ate in silence. Then Eve poured herself another mug of tea from the battered-looking stainless steel teapot that stood in the centre of the table. Without asking, she topped up Daniel’s mug and said, ‘I live alone in a flat, which is on the third floor of a building, overlooking the river. There are birds living in the eaves. They never go to sleep but bicker among themselves all night. Perhaps they are starlings. I don’t know much about birds.’

  Daniel shrugged. ‘Nor me.’

  Eve smiled. ‘Still, it adds character.’

  Perhaps she wanted Daniel to offer information about his own life. He was wary of doing that because he still did not trust her. He realised he could not remain in the cafe for much longer. He was beginning to feel uneasy. Quickly, he drained his tea. ‘Thanks for helping me out. It was kind of you.’ He stood up.

  Eve tilted her head up at him. ‘Such good manners! Don’t worry, it was a pleasure. Perhaps some time you could buy me breakfast too. I’m here most mornings.’

  Daniel nodded. ‘OK.’ She was becoming an oppressive presence; he was sure she wanted something from him. There was a light emanating from her eyes, which suggested she wanted him to stay, tell her things. ‘I must go,’ he said awkwardly.

  Eve blinked slowly and inclined her head. ‘Of course. Have a nice day.’

  Daniel grinned and, with shrinking flesh, fled the cafe. Hurriedly, he immersed himself in the shadows of the narrow street and had to force himself not to run back to the square. At the same time, he felt strangely buoyant. Contact with someone other than the bizarre occupants of the Rooms and his damaged companions had been good for him. Perhaps he would return to the cafe some other morning, but part of the magic of this certain day would no doubt mean he would never see strange Eve again. He hoped his meeting with her could be seen as an omen and that, as the hours rolled out, other things might happen which would enhance the uniqueness of the day.

  Daniel walked up the alley beside the Assembly Rooms and used his keys to open the two locks of the side door. Inside, the atmosphere enveloped him like an amorous monster, as if the oppressive air was thick with unseen strands of fur. Already, it was more difficult to draw breath. A four-paned window beside the door provided the only light, and it was heavily barred, as well as not having been cleaned for years. Therefore the light was bleak and dim, and stillness reigned. There were no sounds, and even the noises of the city seemed to have disappeared.

  A short narrow corridor led into the house, its right side flanked by stairs. Daniel had to walk down the corridor before he could double back on himself and mount the stairs. The stairs were uncarpeted, so that Daniel’s boots made a heavy sound on the rough, bare wood. The banister was sticky, as if exuding a moist, sick ichor.

  When he reached the first floor, Daniel increased his pace. This was the area where he was most likely to run into someone. On the second floor, he and his companions had been given rooms to use; bare, dismal spaces that ached with old regrets. Shem’s room was at the end of a dark, narrow corridor, where all the light bulbs had blown. Daniel went to see him every morning with the hope that one day, Shem might respond to him in a positive way, and say something about the future. Daniel knew that Emma had a similar ritual, but she was more likely to exhort and complain, while Daniel was content simply to sit and wait.

  Reaching Shem’s door, Daniel knocked politely. As usual, there was no response, so he opened the door and walked into the room. Shem never locked himself in, and did not seem to want to keep anyone out. The room was large, too large, the bare boards of the floor inadequately covered by an ancient carpet, colourless now. There was little furniture. In a dark corner reposed a sagging double bed, on which the new, paisley-covered duvet that Emma had bought lay scrunched up in a marshmallowy pile. Before the vast empty fireplace stood a sofa with broken legs, supported by old books and bricks. In front of it there was a coffee table from the ‘Seventies — chipped — and an enormous TV, which had been manufactured in the days when colour transmission was still quite an innovative thing. The television was on, but the sound was turned down; its picture veered distinctly towards purple tones. Magazines and newspapers lay scattered around, the bright colour photographs of the glossies incongruous against the drab deadness of the room. Daniel knew Shem sent Emma out to buy them for him. Was he really interested in what went on in the world?

  Shem was sitting on the floor beneath the window, almost invisible in the grey light, playing a computer game on a hand-held console, borrowed from one of the other Grigori in the house. His long legs were curled up around him and his feet were bare. His pale hair hung loose over his chest, obscuring the logo on his T-shirt. He looked up when Daniel came into the room and smiled vaguely. The sight of him always made Daniel’s heart falter. It was partly caused by the shock of Shem’s rather unkempt beauty, but also something else, something within the man that came out of him like an invisible fan of light.

  ‘I’ve been outside,’ Daniel said.

  Shem turned his attention back to his game. ‘I know. I sensed your presence on the pavement outside.’

  Daniel sauntered over to where Shem sat and squatted down beside him. ‘I mean, I went out of the square, to a cafe.’ He wondered whether Shem would look up in alarm, be shocked into admonishing him, but no.

  ‘Right.’

  There was no scolding that he should have taken care, or not spoken to anyone. ‘I met a weird woman who bought me breakfast.’

  Shem uttered an amused snort. ‘Daniel, to you, all women are weird.’

  ‘Don’t you think that’s strange though? Someone I don’t know offering to buy me breakfast?’

  Shem looked up at him studiously for a moment or two, then shook his head. ‘No, not at all. I’m sure she would have liked to buy you more than breakfast.’

  ‘So you don’t think it could mean trouble?’

  Shem frowned quizzically, but did not look up. ‘Trouble? What kind?’

  ‘You know, someone following us.’

  Shem sighed and put down the game. ‘Daniel, I can’t be bothered with Emma’s paranoia, for that is what you’re talking about. She puts ideas into your head. No-one has ever caught up with me before, so why should they now?’

  Daniel shrugged. ‘Dunno. I just wonder what would happen, though, if they did.’

  Shem grinned. ‘They’d kill me and subject you and the others to unspeakable torture.’ He laughed. ‘Don’t look like that. I was joking. No-one is looking for us. Nobody cares.’ He stood up and plunged his hands into his hair to scratch his scalp. Then he shook himself like a dog and leaned on the windowsill to look out.

  ‘How long must we stay here?’ Daniel asked, still squatting on the floor.

  ‘No-one’s keeping you here,’ Shem answered shortly. ‘Except, perhaps, for Emma.’

  ‘Do you want us to leave you?’

  Shem glanced round at him. For a few moments, he said nothing. ‘No, I don’t, but I can’t see why you should waste your life here. Especially you and Lily. Emma will stick by me because she wants the Fruit of Youth.’ He laughed harshly. ‘And Owen is not in this reality, so should probably be looked afte
r by Emma. But you and Lily should just fly away.’ He raised his arms. ‘She could carry you in her arms and fly.’

  ‘I can’t leave Owen,’ Daniel said. He wondered why he felt uncomfortable saying that.

  Shem shook his head in what seemed to be disbelief. ‘Why? He’s weak, Daniel. He let me use him to hurt you. You very nearly died. Get out now, and leave both of us behind. You owe us nothing but your contempt.’

  ‘Once you would not have thought that,’ Daniel said, sensing progress, however faint.

  ‘You don’t know that.’

  ‘I won’t leave you either.’ Daniel stood up. ‘You can’t stay here for ever. You can’t deny what you are...’

  Shem raised his hands and closed his eyes. ‘Daniel, Daniel, please be quiet. I don’t want to hear your opinions. I have been many things and will no doubt be many more, but at the moment, I don’t want to be anything but an invisible creature who spends all day sucking up the media and playing computer games. I could do this for millennia. You, on the other hand, don’t have such a luxury of time.’

  ‘You couldn’t do it for millennia,’ Daniel said mulishly. ‘The house will fall down long before then, and the TV will definitely conk out within the next twelve months.’

  Shem laughed grudgingly. ‘I was speaking, as you well know, metaphorically. Please don’t hassle me now. If you’re going to keep nagging, do it outside the door where I can’t hear you.’ He flapped his hands at Daniel. ‘Now, please. I want some peace.’

  Sighing, Daniel trudged out. He paused at the door, trying to think of something clever to say, but failed. He felt angry and frustrated. What could he do to break down Shem’s reserve? He couldn’t go on like this. He had to finish becoming. Didn’t he realise he didn’t have a choice about that? Hiding away here would only delay the inevitable.

  Chapter Three

  The Watchers

  Aninka Prussoe returned to the flat around mid-day. She’d spent the morning in the West End, browsing through bookshops, checking out the card sections to see whether any of her own prints were represented there. She could never resist doing that.