I watch him leave and feel a tingle of power sizzle right through me. His cheeks had colored. He had blushed. For the first time since I have known him I made the great Blake Law Barrington flush with shame.
I hold the power now.
I lean back. I know the drill—wait here until a nurse comes to fetch me back to my room. The door opens, and someone comes in, but it is not a nurse. A small, deathly pale man dressed entirely in black enters. His shoes are polished to a high shine. I stare at him with surprise.
For a moment my body freezes in fear. I swallow down that spike of fear, that unreasonable dread that he seems more a corpse that some mad doctor decided to animate so he may still walk the earth than an actual living, breathing human being. Revulsion and horror crawl in my blood. It is impossible to properly describe his bizarre appearance. His nose is sharp and narrow and his mouth is thin and downward turning, but it is his eyes that are the most sinister. They are red-rimmed and the irises black, shiny, empty.
As soon as those eyes connect with mine I feel a dark chill go through me. I have seen eyes like that before… I have never seen him in my life before, but I recognize him.
Unsteadily I stand and curtsy on one knee. It is not necessary, but I do it to ingratiate myself. I need allies. And allies like him are powerful, they are El sent.
‘Lady Victoria.’
‘At your service.’
He smiles cordially and as he comes closer to me, I start to feel almost faint. The malevolence of his presence is so palpable that my body instinctively recoils. Unable to stop myself I take a step back and to cover my reaction I pretend that I am heading for a seat and collapse on it. Not as elegantly as I would have liked. Then I busy myself with crossing my legs and arranging my skirt around me as I compose my face into lines of submissive helpfulness.
I am frightened of him. Then I remember the phoenix. Why should I fear? I am divinely guided. I am doing El’s work. I have nothing to fear and yet my mouth feels like it is full of soot. I swallow the blackness and lick my lips.
‘May I?’ he drawls. He knows the effect he has on me…and secretly relishes my distress.
‘Of course. Please.’
He sits. The movement is so deliberate and theatrical it is almost gay. But he is not. His tastes are eclectic. I know that without knowing him. He is a sadist. One look in his eyes and I see it.
‘Do they treat you well here?’
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘That pleases me. I asked for…helpful assistants.’
‘Yes, they have all been very helpful.’
He nods. ‘It won’t be long before you are out.’
I don’t say anything. I am suddenly afraid. I am wondering why he is here. He is not an ally of mine. He is here for a different reason.
‘Who are you?’ I splutter.
‘We are descended from the light, the fallen light. Ah, but in fact, you are actually wondering why I am here.’
‘It did cross my mind.’
‘It is important to us that you have your satisfaction. Blake should pay for…cheating you. We like your little plan to dethrone him. He is not a Barrington and he should not masquerade as one, but we ask that Blake and his family come to no harm.’
I feel confused. I wanted to offer Blake as a sacrifice to the phoenix. I wanted to watch his beautiful blue eyes fading, fading. Dead. Damned forever.
He cuts into my thoughts. ‘Let us remain merciful.’
‘What makes you think I want to hurt him?’
‘Lady Victoria, you underestimate us. It is not an attractive quality. Do not repeat the mistake. You are categorically denied permission to harm Blake or his son. He will provide the tools of his own demise.’
To cover my frustration I bow my head. ‘What do you seek?’
‘Power, obedience and access.’
‘You have all three with me.’
His bloodless lips stretch in a parody of a smile. Cold is what cold-blooded does. ‘Good. What may seem to you like chaos is a carefully coordinated attack. The outcome will follow the design no matter what you do.’ He looks to the window, beyond our conversation, to the overcast sky.
I frown with confusion. The brotherhood is rigorously selective. Blake is not a bloodline. ‘What do you want with a bastard and his little mongrel offspring?’
‘Unlikely alliances can sometimes be the most productive,’ he says cryptically.
The door opens and a nurse comes in bearing a glass of water on a tray. I look up at her almost gratefully. Just having another person in the room even for a few seconds allows me to compose myself a little.
‘Here you go,’ she says, and places the glass on the low table.
‘Thank you,’ he says quietly.
She walks out of the door and it closes after her. I watch him pick up the glass, raise it to his pale lips and take a sip. I watch the movement his thin throat makes. My eyes are drawn to his Adam’s apple. The skin there is so white and stretched so tight it almost glows.
My thoughts whirl in circles. Sucking at me. What the hell? Must I stand by and watch Blake and his harlot prosper…again? I shake my head. Something is not right.
‘Why? Why do you care so much about a non-bloodline?’
And suddenly his eyes—there is no other way to put it—become alive, as if he was a shell and someone or something had suddenly come into his empty body and animated it. I feel inexplicably exposed and observed, not by passive eyes but by penetrating ones. Eyes that know me. Eyes that are familiar. My hand comes up to my throat. Those cruel lips hardly move, but what comes out of them turns my whole world upside down.
Twenty-Two
Blake Law Barrington
So it was all a lie. I am not a Barrington. Not a bloodline. Not precious. Not better than all the rest of humanity. It should have been a terrible blow. I should have been numb with shock, or in a rage. My whole life a lie! It’s a strange thing but walking away from Victoria, I feel oddly light and relieved.
Finally, it all makes sense.
My father’s sweaty male skin pressed against my half bare back.
Because he was not my father. The vein of cruelty was not normal. He was my keeper. When I examine it deeper it is not relief, but a kind of dangerous excitement. As if a door that I thought would never open for me has suddenly opened. A new life stretches out for me. Within my grasp. I only have to play my cards right.
But I don’t trust her. I believe she will not be satisfied with such a weak revenge. She’ll want blood. It is our way. Blood to feed the gods. Probably mine. She knows she won’t get away with spilling any of Sorab’s. Her plans must include my death. What a pleasure to turn Lana into a widow.
The first person I call is my lawyer.
‘Jay, get back to me on the fastest, most efficient way for me to cut all financial ties with the Barrington wealth.’
There is a moment of shocked silence.
‘Um… I didn’t quite get that. Can you explain in more detail what you mean?’
‘Let’s say my brother discovers that I am not a Barrington—what paperwork would he draw up to cut me out of the fortune?’
‘Right… Uh…I’ll…um…have to get back to you on that.’
‘Call me as soon as you know.’
‘Right, yes, yes I will.’
I call my secretary and tell her to make arrangements for me to fly to New York that day. Then I call my brother.
‘Marcus. I need to speak to you. I’ll be there in about ten hours. Can you clear your diary for me?’
‘Is everything OK?’
‘Not really. But I’ll tell you everything when I see you.’
After that I call Billie to ask her if she will come and stay with Lana that night. She sounds out of breath, as if she has been running up a flight of steps or having wild sex, but she not only took my call, she also agrees immediately. With that sorted, I dial my mother’s number.