Chapter 04
“Where is she?” Uriel asked the Aradma standing guard at the house's entrance.
She pointed at the door down the hall that led into the main study, the one with windows that faced the street.
It had only been three days since the girl first woke up and since then, despite her fragile state, she had managed use his absence to find her way out of the apartment -- but luckily not out of the house -- twice. Uriel couldn't understand why she would prolong her recovery with antics like that. He had promised her that he would release her. Didn't she believe him?
Apparently not.
He sighed as he silently pushed the door open and a view of a large mahogany desk at the far end of the room with three armchairs in front of it and walls lined with bookshelves opened before him. An end table lay overturned and broken before the second of the two windows.
The girl, Jen, half-leaned on the wall beside the window, slamming what looked like a piece of the end table against the glass. A futile task, since all the windows in the house were made from transparent synthetic ceramic reinforced armour, and only Blackdart's beasts and rocket missiles had enough strength to penetrate that.
Uriel transported himself to the armchair overlooking the window, sank into it and stretched his legs out before him. He closed his eyes, leaned his head on the back of the chair and through the noise of shattering wood, thuds against the glass and heavy breathing, concentrated on her heartbeat. It was accelerated, but otherwise it sounded strong.
He waited until the girl's movement became sluggish and her legs gave out on her. “How many times do we have to go through this before you learn that you can't escape?”
She whirled around and with her lips pinched she averted her gaze and tried to pick herself up.
She was such a stubborn girl. He pulled out his phone and browsed for the information he had on her. He started to read it out loud. “Jennelle Hunter, age: twenty two, living with a flatmate in Harlech Tower, Park Road East, Acton W3, unemployed.”
She had the audacity to glare at him.
He could have continued with the list of her part-time jobs or told her about his assumptions as to why she had left home at seventeen. She was a courageous girl, going out on her own after her older brother lost his life in a military mission. It probably had something to do with her father being a colonel in Her Majesty's Armed Forces. “Even if you escape, I know where to find you.”
Her jaw tensed. “You said you would let me go.” Her breath was rushed and shallow.
Uriel shifted forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Yes, I promised you that and I will abide by my promise. As soon as you get better.”
“I am already better.”
“Yes, yes.” Uriel nodded. “That's why you are shaking so much that you can't stand up, right? And look at your hands.” She had pushed herself beyond her limits again.
She curled her trembling hands and pressed them against her belly. “I'm fine.”
She was well enough, all she needed was plenty of rest. Maybe it was time to set her free. At least that way she wouldn’t waste her energy trying to escape. “If you spend eight hours straight in the Sarniikzi, I'll let you go.”
She stared at him with her mouth narrowed into a thin line, looking as if she didn't believe him.
Of course, she didn't believe him. In her eyes he was a bad guy, not even human, but something similar to Akilueteers, a monster. Yes, he could understand that. “Or I'll lock you in the house for a whole month. Would you prefer that?”
“I'm not sleeping in that coffin.”
“Then one month it is.” He stood up.
She screamed, a high-pitched sound that pierced Uriel's eardrums, and her hands slammed against the stone floor. “You! You!”
Uriel raised his brows. “Yes?”
“You! Why don't you listen to me?” Her palms hit the ground again.
“One month in this house or a night in the Sarniikzi.”
Her gaze became scalding.
“Choose.”
“How? How can I believe you when you are -- I can't trust you.”
“Have I harmed you in any way?”
“No.” Her forehead wrinkled.
“Have I threatened you?”
“No.”
“Have I lied to you?”
“I don't know. How would I know?”
“Yes, how would you know?” Uriel raked his fingers through the black strands of his hair. “Take a chance. It's only eight hours.”
She looked reluctant, but in the end she agreed and, resentfully, she used the Sarniikzi.
She was such a brat, Uriel thought eight hours later, as he wrapped his fingers around the handle of the Sarniikzi’s lid. He pushed it open and then gazed at the girl inside it.
A brat, yes; she was worse than Anael had been when she was little. But Jen was an amusing, high-spirited brat and somebody for whom he could cook. It would be fun to spend more time in her company. He smiled to himself. What was he thinking? She would drive him insane in a week.
His fingers curled around her shoulder and he shook her, then stepped aside as soon as her eyelids fluttered open.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes and yawning. Her eyes landed on him and she flinched.
“Wash up and change.”
“Then what?”
“I'll take you home,” Uriel said before he turned on his heel and left the room. He picked up the paper bag that contained her clothes, which were now mended and clean -- he had taken care of it personally -- and the suit his friend Gillian had made for the girl on his request. He waited for her at the door of the apartment. As he had expected, he didn't have to wait long before she hurried in his direction.
“You put your shirt on wrong.” He gave her the bag.
She glanced at the protruding seams of her beige T-shirt and shrugged. “Are you really going to take me home?”
Uriel opened the lock on the door. “That was the promise.”
She nodded.
He guided her down the stairs and then across the hallway and past the house’s entrance, to the hidden passage that led to the basement where the garage was.
Anael and Michael waited on their bikes at the front of it, Uriel's bike between them.
Uriel looked over his shoulder at Jen who, for a change, obediently trailed behind him. He went to his bike, picked up his helmet and gave it to Jen.
“I would rather take the bus.”
“I'm afraid that's not possible.” He thought about using the house's car to get her home, but since they didn't plan to return to the house, that would have been pointless.
“Can we go, already?” Anael asked.
“I should just shut up, huh?” Jen put on the helmet.
“That would be preferable.” From her bag Uriel took the jacket and offered it to her.
“What is this?”
“Just put it on and climb on.” He gestured to the bike before he sat on it.
She obeyed him and climbed behind him, but she didn't wrap her arms around him. She put the bag between them.
The corners of Uriel's mouth twitched in amusement. They drove into the elevator that brought them out into the back alley, and from there they turned onto the main road.
Uriel deeply inhaled the fresh air of the night, smiling inwardly when arms embraced his waist. The plan was to deliver her home and give her a lecture about Akilueteers she hopefully wouldn’t forget. Now, he only had twenty minutes to figure out what to say so it would penetrate her thick skull.
Anael overtook them, the beam of her headlight passing in a flash. He could see her bike's tail-light getting smaller as she twisted and turned between a few scattered cars, with Michael close behind her, while Uriel turned left at the next intersection onto a four-lane road.
Anael and Michael had a scheduled visit at the so-called vampire hunters' headquarters, making sure that the group would not think of trying to be heroes again. Not that they had anything to slay, not in London, not when the only nest left was too well-hidden and, hopefully, its Akilueteers too sane to be taunted by a bunch of amateurs. But since Akilueteers were slaves of their thirst, it didn't hurt to take additional measures so that those amateurs would stay put.
A black Audi with tinted windows drew even with Uriel and started to move into their lane.
Maybe they hadn’t seen them. Uriel accelerated, but so did the car.
The window on the passenger side glided down and the muzzle of a rifle appeared through it. A short flash of light and the bang of rifle being fired.
Uriel pressed the brake and the bullet shot by.
Another bang, this time from behind.
Uriel could see another two cars, copies of the Audi beside him, in the bike's rear-view mirror, the rifles pushed through the open windows aimed at him. He sped up. How much G-force could a Mamael’s body endure? Biology and chemistry were his things, not physics, but... if he remembered correctly it should be four or five G. That meant that speeding up enough to jump to the rooftops was out of the question.
Another round of bullets flew his way. He accelerated then braked. He let the cars pass him, then lifted the back tire off the ground and twirled the bike around on the front tire. He shot forward, glad that this late at night there were only a few cars on the road. He moved into the opposite lane.
The sound of rotors and light from above zoomed in on him.
How wonderful. He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulled out an earpiece, put it in his ear and said. “Michael.” The sound of dialling and a moment later he could hear Michael's voice.
The girl behind him tightened her grip around him and incomprehensible words of anger dominated over the noise of wind and traffic.
He reached backwards and pushed down the visor of her helmet, hushing her. “I have a situation here,” he told Michael as he evaded the bullets coming from above. Bullets, even silver ones, couldn't endanger his life, but they could harm her.
He told Michael his approximate location, then directed his bike away from the main road, going as fast as he dared with the package holding onto him.
Fingers pinched him.
If she could have heard him, he would have tried to reassure her that everything was going to be fine. He turned off the bike's lights and as soon as they lost the helicopter, drove into one of the deserted alleys. He parked the bike close enough to the entrance of the alley that he had a view of the street, but deep enough so they couldn’t be seen.
He heard the snap of the visor and the hands woven around his middle withdrew. He only hoped that the girl wouldn’t have a tantrum. “Be still.” His voice was low.
Jen leaned against his back. “Who were they?”
Mamaels couldn't keep up with his speed; they could only be Lueeshareteers, Aradmas probably. But he was one of the Dumes, who were in the same league as the Numuns, Elders of the Damned and Gelbeliyas of the Lost; bullets had only a short term effect on him. It didn't make sense.
A helicopter passed over them.
“Who were they?” she repeated, impatience in her tone.
The best way to find that out would be to go and ask them. But they were in a populated part of the city and a confrontation with them would involve too many witnesses. He would have to draw them out of the city or to some abandoned area, but for that he would first have to drop off Jen. He glanced at her.
“What?”
“I'll lure them away and you wait here for Michael. He'll take you home.”
“I can go home on my own.” She climbed off the bike, removed the helmet and gave it to him.
“That could work too.” She was a big girl, he didn't need to escort her to her apartment door.
She started to remove the jacket.
“Keep it.”
She took the crumpled bag. “Thank you for saving my life.”
Well, that was a surprise. “I better not catch you chasing Akilueteers again. If I do, I won't let you off so easily.”
He expected a sharp retort, but she meekly said, “I guess this is goodbye, then.”
“Yes,” he nodded and put the helmet on, not because he needed its protection, but because it had a transmission device, which was a much more suitable way than the phone of establishing contact with the others while driving.
He started the motorcycle and with a last look at the redhead and a lift of his hand he drove the bike onto the main street, where he turned on the headlights. So this was goodbye, huh? He couldn't say that he was sorry. Well, maybe just a little. It had been nice cooking for somebody again.
The helicopter's light found him after a few short minutes, but instead of a rain of bullets and hot pursuit, the light passed him by.
They were Lueeshareteers, Uriel was sure of that, and apparently they weren't after him, but -- Jen? What would they want with a Mamael hunter of Akilueteers?
He turned around, toward the alley where he had left the girl. Even before he came closer he could see a parked car and two men dragging somebody with them, somebody who violently thrashed in their hold. Jen.
With a press of the button under the bike’s tank Uriel opened a compartment at the side of the bike. He pulled out his sword.
Shots fired from the car and small dots of lights flew in his direction.
He warded them off with swings of his katana, driving his bike straight at the car. Before the collision he tossed his helmet at the open window with rifles and guns pushed through it and jumped off the motorcycle. With a strong wave of the wings that appeared on his back he jumped the car and landed before the men. The blade cut through the left one. Uriel didn't wait to see him tumble down onto the pavement and vanish, but used space distortion to appear behind the man to Jen’s right.
The man spun around, wrapped his arm around Jen's middle and hauled her against his chest, his gun pointed at the girl's head. “I have the girl, stay back.”
Uriel tilted his head, his eyes on the shivering girl. “I would never have thought you could be so easily captured.”
“He's that Lu-something thing,” Jen hissed. “And there were two.”
It seems that the ancient names were too complicated for her and he would have to use a simpler version of Lueeshareteers, the Bloodeaters, with her -- the same as he did when talking with Tina and new Aradmas. “To be more precise, he's an Aradma; a little more powerful than an ordinary Akilueteer, but that's all.” Uriel fixed the tip of his sword on the floor while he observed the limousine, which had a smashed front end from the crash with his bike. Three men stepped out from it, with their rifles and guns aimed at him as they cautiously neared. He probably had red dots somewhere on his face.
“And how should I know what an Aredma is?” Jen said.
“It's Aradma, not Aredma. They are humans turned into Lueeshareteers, the Bloodeaters, and they usually play the role of servants to pure-bloods.”
“We are not here to revise the Bloodeaters' hierarchy,” the man holding Jen said.
No, they were not. “Then why are you here? What do you intend to do with the Mamael?”
“Could you stop talking and do something, please?” Jen cried out.
Yes, he’d better. In a flash he stood beside the man. He shoved the blade into his head and pushed Jen so that she fell down on the ground. “Stay down.”
Bullets flew at him.
He blocked them with his sword as he moved forward, toward the three Aradma. They knew who they were up against, did they really think they had a chance?
The men circled him.
A slash sideways and three men became two. One of the bullets grazed Uriel's shoulder, it tore the fabric of his jacket. A thrust of the blade forward and another man fell; he turned into dust that disappeared before it could hit the pavement.
The remaining man, with a war cry on his lips, jumped on him, firing his gun in quick succession.
Uriel brandished his katana so fast that the blur of the blade created a fan shape. He kicked out at the man's legs.
The man fell down on his knees.
Uriel slashed with his blade and the man's head rolled on the ground, solidified, turned into dust, which disappeared.
“Help!” Jen screamed.
Uriel twisted around to see a man holding onto Jen’s hair and wrestling Jen deeper into the shadows of the alley. He wasn't Aradma; no, the man's power could only belong to Belini, the pure-breeds of the Damned, who answered directly to the Elders or the Numuns. But the Numuns would never attack him since they viewed him as a brother.
A helicopter flew by, then returned and hovered over the alley, its light on Uriel, the sound of its rotors suffocating the hums of the cars that drove to the entrance of the alley and blocked it.
Uriel soared up into the sky, appearing to be headed for the aircraft, which lifted up, but in the middle of his ascent Uriel transported himself to the ground, just behind the Belini. He pressed the blade of his katana against man's throat.
The man's grip on Jen loosened.
“Get behind me,” Uriel ordered her and when she obeyed him, he focused on the man, ignoring the light that zoomed on him again. “Who is your master?”
“I can't tell you that.”
And he couldn't interrogate him here. If he tried to bring him along, he wouldn't be able to protect the girl. He slit the man's throat and when the man slumped to the ground, he severed the head.
“What are you doing?” Jen shrieked behind him.
Saving you, what else?” He tugged her before him and wrapped his arms around her. “Hold on tight.” He stretched his wings and with a spring surged up into the sky, past the helicopter. “I'm sorry, but it seems that I can't fulfil my promise,” he said to her, hoping that she could hear him over the swishes of his wings and the howling of the wind. “Not yet, anyway.” The girl might not like it, but she was going to have to spend more time in his company.