‘We have to talk, Daniel.’
His voice was too serious. Daniel’s body was still hot with desire. He hadn’t expected this. ‘We can talk any time.’ Strange how the roles reversed, back and forth, back and forth. He wanted to devour Jack and didn’t care for conversation.
‘No, we can’t. This is urgent. But we can’t talk here.’
‘Then where?’
‘My place?’
Daniel was silent for a moment, then grinned. The moment of decision. ‘If you like.’
After a hurried explanation to Lily, who clearly didn’t care what Daniel did that night, they hailed a cab and drove through the city to Jack’s apartment. He lived in Docklands, which hardly surprised Daniel. ‘What do you do to earn money?’ he asked.
‘Scrounge,’ Jack answered, and smothered any further questions with a kiss. Daniel was conscious of the cab driver in front of them, and in his intoxicated state, it only inflamed his lust.
‘You must be good at scrounging,’ Daniel said as he spilled out of the cab into the street.
Jack laughed. ‘Yeah, I am. Very.’
Jack’s apartment was spacious and modern, a converted docks building. Daniel wandered around the enormous living-space while Jack poured drinks. Daniel fell onto a sofa, which was covered with an ethnic print rug. Jack summoned him.
‘Not here. My room. More private.’
Daniel frowned. ‘You said you lived alone.’
‘A lie. I share. A small lie. Come on.’
Jack’s room was bare and sleek; stripped pine and floor cushions. The bed, unmade, was a mattress on the floor, but lacked all the connotations of poverty associated with the floor mattresses at the Assembly Rooms. CDs were scattered everywhere, out of their cases. Jack selected one from a pile and slotted into his CD player, which Daniel noticed was filmed with a layer of dust. Soft, ambient music filled the room.
‘Why are you sober?’ Daniel complained, accepting another glass of bourbon from Jack.
‘I’m not. Well, some thoughts just make you sober.’ Jack sat down beside him on the bed. Daniel slumped down and put his head in Jack’s lap, gazing up at his face.
‘Don’t be so serious.’
Jack stroked his face, summoned a smile. ‘Sorry.’ He paused, then said, ‘Daniel, I want you to know about what happened to me, how I ended up half crazy...’
‘Don’t!’ Daniel put his hands over his ears, closed his eyes. ‘Please don’t. Not now.’
‘But it’s important... relevant. Look, my name’s not Jack, it’s Taziel, Taziel Levantine.’
Daniel felt the name should mean something, but it didn’t. ‘So? Why did you pretend to be someone else?’
‘You’ve not heard the name before?’
Daniel frowned and shook his head. ‘I don’t think so.’ He grinned. ‘Why, should I have?’
Taziel shrugged uneasily. ‘Well... I don’t know. I thought, maybe, you’d picked my name up psychically.’ His voice was lame, but Daniel failed to register it.
‘Look, I don’t care. I don’t get a bad feeling off you. I feel safe.’
‘This isn’t you talking. You’re off your face!’
Daniel laughed. ‘True, but it makes no difference. Look, Jack, Taziel, whatever, I don’t want your angst. You can hear my thoughts! Don’t you know what that means to me? I want to touch you. I want to live this moment to its ultimate potential.’ If there were alarm bells ringing within him, the drink and the smoke had soundproofed them out. All he could think about was the freedom of being away from Shem and the others and being able to do as he liked.
Taziel sighed and reached out to stroke his face. ‘OK. We’ll talk later when you’ve sobered up.’
‘Take advantage of me,’ Daniel said. ‘You have my permission.’ He wriggled upwards and pushed Taziel back onto the bed.
‘We share certain things, in our pasts,’ Taziel said.
A glimmer of understanding flashed across Daniel’s mind. ‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Not yet.’ He didn’t want to know, because he was afraid it would change everything. He lay on top of Taziel, looking into his face, which was tawny in the lamplight. ‘Don’t spoil everything. This is my first night of freedom in a long time.’
‘The last time you had sex, you were raped.’
‘Stop it!’
‘No, I can see that, don’t you understand? I know!’
‘It’s over. Whatever happened to either of us is over. I want to forget it. Help me do that. Didn’t you say we could help each other?’
Taziel closed his eyes, reached up to Daniel’s face with his long hands. ‘Oh yes. I did. And we can. But I don’t want you to end up hating me.’
‘I won’t. Why should I?’
Taziel blinked and smiled sadly. ‘It happens,’ he said.
‘Whatever you’ve lived through, whoever you are, I promise not to hate you,’ Daniel said, and before Taziel could say anything else, covered his mouth with his own. Silent words passed into Daniel’s throat. He would not recognise them. They could not possibly feel like the shape of Peverel Othman’s name.
Chapter Eleven
Prey Down
Aninka and Lahash left Taziel at around eight o’clock. He was in the process of taking great care in readying himself for his night out. Aninka felt uneasy. She knew that Taziel wasn’t as tough as he made out, and that he, of all of them, had probably suffered the most damage at the hands of Peverel Othman. She realised that, despite Lahash’s misgivings, she’d have to be present when he spoke to Daniel, if only to look after Taziel. It was unlikely she could exert any control over Lahash, but perhaps her mere presence might temper his methods of extracting information from the boy.
The evening grovelled by, minute after endless minute. Lahash had taken Aninka to a small, avant garde theatre, but she could not concentrate on the play. The actors spoke incomprehensible gibberish in a manner she supposed was meaningful, but to her it was too contrived. Angst over modern relationships meant nothing in the face of monstrous realities like the existence of Shemyaza. Even now, she found it hard to believe, and suspected, even hoped, that when Shemyaza was found, it would simply be Peverel Othman; a little more insane, and certainly more dangerous, but nothing more powerful than he had been before. If the spirit of such a great archetype was to reincarnate, why would it choose the corrupt body of Othman? Shemyaza had died for love: Othman could only murder for it.
At eleven, Lahash took her to a cramped, private drinking club, situated above a Greek restaurant. It was owned and frequented by city Grigori, with some of whom Lahash appeared to have a slight acquaintance, although none of them invaded the space of their table, huddled beside a narrow window. A candle glowed in a glass globe between them as they sipped an antique brandy. Below, gangs of young people surged up and down the narrow street; their noise was aggressive, threatening, but perhaps they were simply enjoying themselves. Aninka nodded in the right places as Lahash talked about the play. She realised, dully, that he had hoped to impress her with his knowledge of the arts. Presumably, although she could not remember, she must have told him that she and Taz spent most of their evenings this way. With Taz, she might have enjoyed the production. They would certainly have enjoyed bitching about it afterwards.
At half past midnight, Lahash suggested they seek out a Chinese cafe he frequented, and eat. Aninka agreed to this, thinking that soon this mimicry of entertainment would finish, and the grisly business would begin. She was beginning to feel nauseous.
However, at the threshold of the cafe, which was not far from the club they’d just left, Lahash paused.
‘What’s the matter?’ Aninka asked too quickly, remembering his earlier words about surveillance. She glanced around herself tensely.
Lahash looked at her. ‘Nothing. Look, I think we should go back to your place now.’
‘It’s not time,’ Aninka said.
‘I know, but we should still go back.’
‘Taz won’t be pleased if we get there
before him.’
Lahash smiled. ‘That is precisely why I think we should go now. I have an idea of what Taz is up to, and it could be dangerous for him.’
Aninka considered for a moment, then nodded. ‘Yes. Let’s get a cab.’
At first, Aninka thought that Taziel had left all the lights on in the main room by mistake. When she and Taz went out for the evening, they always left one lamp burning, just to discourage house-breakers, but when she and Lahash entered the hall, she could see that the whole flat was lit up. She took off her jacket and put it down on the sofa, along with her shoulder bag.
‘He’s already here,’ Lahash said pointing at the floor behind the sofa.
Aninka peered over the furniture and saw Taziel’s leather jacket lying on the carpet. It looked absurdly vulnerable, like a discarded skin. ‘They must be in his room,’ she said.
Lahash pulled an exasperated face. ‘I thought as much. Lead the way.’
Aninka hesitated. ‘Do we have to? I mean, I don’t relish the idea of barging in on something intimate.’
Lahash grinned at her. ‘Don’t be squeamish. We do have to. As I said, Taz is putting himself at risk.’
Aninka huffed a sigh, and led the way down the short corridor to Taz’s room. Taz is doing this because Daniel’s psychic, she thought. That has to be the reason. A meeting of souls. The meeting of bodies must be something wondrous. She realised the futility of confiding these thoughts to Lahash, who would be unsympathetic at best.
When they stood before Taz’s door, she pointed and mouthed, ‘There.’ Let Lahash be the one to intrude. She just couldn’t do it.
Lahash clearly had no scruples about what he was doing; he virtually kicked the door open.
A dim lamp threw golden brown light over them where they lay on the bed. They were only half clothed, entwined together, and gazing at each other as if a kiss had just ended. For a split second, Aninka experienced an enormous grief, and then Lahash was in the room, hauling Daniel from Taz’s arms, and everything broke up into chaos.
Daniel swore, wriggled and clawed in Lahash’s hold as he attempted to drag the boy from the bed.
Taziel uttered a succinct curse, his eyes fixed on Aninka. He thought she’d betrayed him. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ he screamed at Lahash.
Lahash had retreated to the door, the struggling Daniel held firmly in his hands
‘Is this really necessary?’ Aninka asked lamely, her voice unheard through the cacophony of Daniel’s complaints and Taziel’s furious questions. Lahash disappeared out of the door, hauling Daniel along the carpet.
By the time Aninka and Taziel reached the living room, Lahash had thrown Daniel down onto the sofa. Now, he leaned over the boy and Aninka’s worst fears seemed about to be realised. Lahash held the dull, black muzzle of a gun against Daniel’s hair. Daniel was curled up, his arms over his head, making no sound. He wore only a pair of black jeans. To Aninka, he seemed all bones and ribs, his skin stretched tightly over his body. His slim naked feet looked fragile. Aninka swallowed, thought Shem’s boy. And understood immediately the root of Taz’s desire. Shemyaza had touched this creature; part of him lived in Daniel.
‘Did Shemyaza send you?’ Lahash demanded.
Taziel ran over to the sofa, doing up his belt. His naked chest was pimpled with cold or shock. ‘Are you mad, Lahash? Put that gun away! Get real!’ Aninka could see he was frightened.
Lahash ignored him, nudged the cold nose of the gun against Daniel’s neck, making him whimper. ‘Answer. Did Shemyaza send you?’
‘No!’ Daniel squeaked. ‘No! No!’
‘You know he didn’t!’ Taziel shouted. ‘For fuck’s sake, Lahash, let him go.’
Lahash, apparently satisfied, straightened up, although he did not slide the gun back into its nest within his jacket. ‘I know no such thing. You blithely believe the boy is here because of you, but it’s quite possible Shemyaza is aware of us, as we are aware of him.
Daniel slowly uncurled and glanced fearfully at Lahash, while modestly rezipping his trousers. ‘Who are you?’
‘Friends of Peverel Othman,’ Lahash answered.
‘Who?’
Lahash glanced theatrically at the ceiling. ‘Don’t bother lying to us, Daniel. We know you’re holed up in the Moses Assembly Rooms with the erstwhile Othman.’
‘He had no friends,’ Daniel said. ‘You’re Grigori, aren’t you?’ He glanced at Taziel. ‘I knew! Fuck, I knew! I’m so fucking stupid!’ He balled his hands into fists and rolled his eyes in exasperation. Aninka’s heart went out to him.
‘It’s not your concern what we are,’ Lahash said. ‘We just want answers.’
Daniel shook his head wearily. ‘What do you want with me? If you think you can hold me hostage to get at Shem, you’re wasting your time.’
‘That is not our intention,’ Lahash answered.
Daniel sat up straight, glanced round at Taziel again. His eyes said much, although his thoughts remained silent. ‘Then, what is your intention?’
Lahash sat down on the arm of the sofa, the gun held carelessly in one hand in his lap. ‘We just want to talk to you. We need information.’
Daniel snarled at Taziel, ‘You bastard.’
‘I tried to tell you, didn’t I?’ Taziel said. ‘You wouldn’t let me.’ He gestured at Lahash in apparent contempt. ‘This is not my idea, believe me.’
Daniel looked at Aninka, as if for the first time. ‘Eve,’ he said, and smiled bitterly. ‘I walked right into it. Both of you! My God, why didn’t I listen to Israel? He spotted what “Jack” was straight away!’ Daniel realised, miserably, that tonight was the last time he would ignore the voice of his intuition — supposing he had another chance to hear it.
‘Daniel, you’re not in any danger,’ Aninka said, sitting down on his other side. ‘We’ve had to be underhand, yes, but you don’t know how important it is that Shemyaza is looked after by his own kind. He could be a very dangerous man.’
‘Daniel knows that,’ Taziel interjected.
‘Will you kill him?’ Daniel asked. He seemed calm, but Aninka could see he was shaking.
‘No,’ she answered firmly. ‘I don’t know how much you know about him, Daniel, but he’s a special kind of person. He needs to be with people who appreciate that, otherwise he’s a danger to himself and to others. Yes, we are all Grigori, and we are very concerned about Shemyaza. There are people waiting to meet him, to talk to him about what he is and try to help him. You care about him, don’t you?’
Daniel was silent for a moment. ‘He could be something... marvellous.’
‘We know that,’ Aninka said. ‘We have been looking for him, and need to talk to you before we take any action.’
‘He doesn’t care,’ Daniel said, and began to laugh. ‘You didn’t have to lie to me. You could have walked right in there and taken him. He wouldn’t have stopped you.’
Aninka glanced at Lahash, whose posture had become alert. ‘What is his state of mind?’ she asked carefully.
Daniel looked at her from beneath a fringe of hair. ‘I suppose if I don’t tell you what you want to know, I’ll get hurt?’ He shook his head. ‘Eve, why didn’t you tell me from the beginning?’
‘No-one’s going to hurt you, Daniel. I’m sorry we had to deceive you, but we had no way of knowing how you’d react to us. Now please, tell us what we want to know. It’s very important.’
Lahash uttered a scornful sound. ‘Don’t be taken in, Ninka. This could just be a front.’ He prodded Daniel. ‘How many people are with him, and do they have weapons?’
‘If I’m such an unknown quantity, how do you know I’ll tell the truth?’ Daniel said. He shook his head. ‘There are no weapons. This is real life. Shemyaza is a broken man, and he’s accompanied by an emotional cripple, a dream-eyed girl and a Grigori dependant who’s over a hundred years old. That’s our deadly fellowship.’ He laughed. ‘Scared?’
Lahash did not respond to Daniel’s scorn. ‘Who else? There are othe
r people there.’
Daniel shrugged. ‘A bunch of weirdoes. I hardly know them.’ He shot a hard glance at Taziel. ‘You met one tonight. Israel.’
‘Harmless,’ Taziel pronounced.
‘How do we get into the Assembly Rooms?’ Lahash asked.
Daniel’s face clouded. Aninka wanted to reach out and touch him. At that moment, he seemed to have realised Lahash really meant to go to the Assembly Rooms and take Shemyaza away. ‘I don’t know,’ he said lamely.
‘Not good enough,’ Lahash said. ‘Is it locked up? Do you have keys?’
‘Lily has them,’ Daniel said.
Lahash glanced at Taziel. ‘Where’s his coat?’
Silently, Taziel picked up Daniel’s leather jacket from the floor and handed it to Lahash. The keys were in an inside pocket. Lahash sneered, held them out and examined them. ‘These presumably open doors in Little Moor?’
‘Yes,’ Daniel said. ‘I brought them with me from home.’
Lahash grinned. ‘Of course you did.’ He glanced at Aninka, his eyes alight with the kind of excitement she did not want to see. ‘I must get over there.’
Aninka stood up. ‘Then, I’m coming with you.’
Lahash frowned. ‘Is that wise? We can’t be sure the boy’s telling the truth.’
‘I’m not letting you go alone.’ Aninka did not trust Lahash to try and take Shemyaza alive. Even now, she felt sick at what might have happened if she hadn’t come back to the flat with him.
Lahash pointed a stiff finger at Taziel. ‘Keep the boy here. Are you capable of that?’
Daniel was sitting staring at his hands, his expression unreadable. Taziel sighed. ‘Yeah. Just get going.’
Aninka did not envy Taziel’s predicament, or the explanations he would now have to make.
‘We need the car,’ Lahash said as they stepped from the building. ‘But it might be dangerous for me to fetch it.’
‘Then I’ll go,’ Aninka said. ‘But don’t think you can sneak off to the Assembly Rooms without me. Wait nearby. Where’s the car parked?’
It required a short tube journey to reach the car park where Lahash kept his vehicle. He waited outside, while she rode the lift to the correct floor. She stepped out from the lift into an echoing vault, which was nearly empty of vehicles. Aninka recognised Lahash’s sleek limousine immediately; it was the same car they had used to go to Little Moor. Nervously, she walked quickly towards it through the echoing car park. She held the car keys ready in her hand, and her eyes swivelled this way and that, alert for signs of pursuit, of shadows becoming real and hard and predatory. Her hands shook as she activated the central locking system and slid into the driving seat. For a brief, electrifying moment, she thought she’d forgotten how to drive, then reality kicked in and she sent the car squealing down to the street.