They landed on the rooftop of the tallest, gleaming glass and steel tower, running across the textured concrete of the exposed roof surface to press themselves against the cold brick work wall of the stairway entry. Ashlynn brought out the pouch containing the glamour, shivering in the cold and fighting against the wind that picked up their hair and ruffled Cael’s feathers.
“Windy up so high,” she observed, certain that she could feel the tower creak beneath her feet.
“The tall buildings create wind tunnels,” Cael explained. “And their shadows decrease temperature as the air lowers, which results in an increase of wind as there is friction between warmer air rising and cooler air lowering.”
“So, yes, in other words,” she smiled at him to take the sting from her words. “I am, however, very impressed by your knowledge.”
“We learn about the movement of air,” he shrugged a shoulder. “In order to fly more efficiently.”
“My devil, the scholar. Now what have we got in here?” She dug into the satin lined pouch.
Alatar had bound the magic into two rather gaudy amulets, the sort of twisted metal without meaning that were sold to vampire fans who liked to dress in crushed velvet and fishnets and hang out in the Vampire Square hoping to lure a vampire into turning them. She imagined that Alatar had picked them up cheaply and it had tickled his sense of human to bind real magic into them.
“It is hideous,” Cael complained ducking his head so that she could hang one around his neck. It actually looked good, she thought, nestled on the chest of her devil, but then there was very little that would not be accentuated by being worn by Cael.
“It is the texture of the amulet that is important when spell casting,” she told him, adjusting its lie on his chest so that she could stroke the man beneath it and feel his heartbeat against her palm. “And the stone. The texture holds the spell to the metal, and the stone gives it a focal point. See,” she smiled. “I am a scholar too.” Magic had been the one class she had paid attention to.
“Slave magic,” the devil was disdainful turning the amulet over in his hands as he examined it.
“I have yet to see you do anything impressive with your magic,” she pointed out, slipping the second amulet over her head.
“I don’t have to do impressive, I am impressive,” he was haughty, but she saw that his lip curled a little and his eyes danced with humour. He was, she thought, making fun of himself. “But, if you must know, I am reserving my magic until it is actually needed,” he added.
“Of course, you are, my love,” she fed her power into the amulet to activate it. “Can you see the glamour?”
“Glamour does not work on me,” he replied, a fact that did not surprise her as it never worked on her either and she assumed that to be because of their mutual heritage. “But I can see the edge of the slave magic, so I presume it is working.” She saw the stone on his amulet light. “What can you see?”
“I just see Cael,” she replied, frustrated. “No difference.”
“It is active, whatever it is,” he grimaced as he retracted his wings. “So unnatural,” he muttered. “And f-king painful to be bringing them in and out constantly.”
The wind blew its chill over them, carrying the hint of rain and lifting their hair and the edges of the shirt Cael wore. Ashlynn shivered, and he moved closer, positioning his body to protect her from the wind and offer her his body heat. She looked up at him and smiled fondly, laying her hand on his chest.
“Thank you,” she lifted onto her tip toes to kiss his cheek.
“We should go in,” he replied. “You are cold.”
“Yes,” but she did not move, instead putting her arms around his neck and tilting her head back in order to kiss him. He leaned into her, pulling her tightly to his body, and returned her kiss with enthusiasm until she eased back to stroke his hair back from his face.
“What was that for?” A slight smile curled the corner of his lips.
“You just looked pretty,” she took his hand, not wanting to admit that the kiss had been a goodbye kiss. She wished she’d had the opportunity to do the same to Elior. Don’t be negative, Ashlynn, she scolded herself, luck might be with them, after all, and maybe they would be able to kill Elior’s traitor and be home in time to take the vampire to bed. “Let’s go.”
She used a spell to unlock the door, and they entered the steep concrete stairwell, the heavy door closing overloudly behind them, the echo dully rebounding off the raw brickwork and concrete moulded stairs, the edges painted bright with reflective yellow, designed to aid those using the staircase to flee in the event of emergency. There was a terrible quiet to the staircase, and they both stilled, heads tilted as they listened.
“Surely there should be some noise?” She whispered. “It is awfully quiet.”
As they reached the first landing she hesitated at the door, pressing her ear against it, and listening. “I can’t hear anything,” she breathed. “It could mean nothing more than the door is too thick to hear through, or it could mean that this floor is empty. But going top to bottom makes sense, doesn’t it, seeing as we are at the top?”
“I am not entirely sure what we are looking for,” he replied indifferently. “So, I guess.”
She sent him a glance. The devil had no investment in the outcome of their adventure, he was along for the ride because she had taken him there, and, she suspected, because he had been bored reading magazines and her diaries in her bedroom and this, at least, was more interested than that had been.
But he also had a point. She was not entirely sure what she was looking for either.
“Other vampires,” she decided. “So, we can overhead what they say, and see if anyone talked about anything of interest.”
She opened the stairwell door into the top level and peeked out. “All clear.”
They stepped out into an entrance of glossy marble tiles. Two elevators, doors closed, also opened into the rectangular space. A heavy dark wood door was the only other opening, its gold handle almost gaudy in the way that it caught the eye.
Art hung on the walls, lit from above and three chairs upholstered in dark grey fabric were positioned next to a narrow, elegant marble topped hall table, on which a floral arrangement was beginning to wilt, as if it had not been refreshed for some time, the flowers dropping orange pollen dust onto the marble beneath the vase and their perfume heavy on the air.
Ashlynn opened the door into an elegant apartment, the tiles leading them into a marble topped kitchen area, the island bench positioned to look out the expanse of windows. There was a long, dark wood table, with six chairs, and a natural leather couch forming an L around a bone-inlaid coffee table.
“Nice,” she said with approval looking around her. “Someone has excellent taste.”
“This is Elior’s home,” Cael inhaled deeply. “It is faint, but his scent is there.” He led the way across the living area to a set of double doors, one of which stood slightly ajar. “Stronger in here,” he looked within at the large bed with its dark grey upholstered bed head and expensive linen sheets. “Because it is where he spends most of his time. He does not bring company in here, or not often enough to leave a scent if that interests you.”
“Aww, our poor lonely vampire,” she felt her heart constrict thinking of Elior and how they had left him behind. Their poor vampire, holding the world together by himself. “Let’s find whose causing him trouble, so we can keep him company in this very nice bedroom and make a mess of this very elegant bed.”
She led the devil back into the hallway and into the stairwell and they took the stairs down at a trot, their footfalls the only sound. The next level down was a similar lay out to the one above, marble tiles, and entrance hall, without hall table or waiting chairs – unlike Elior, the occupants of this level did not need to maintain a waiting room in their foyer.
The apartment’s flooring and kitchen was identical to the one above, but the furnishing was more feminine, the artwork the female form in a multitude of poses. “Jacinta and Rebecca,” Cael announced sticking his head into the master bedroom.
“I am not surprised, considering the décor,” she observed. “We will skip the next few levels,” she decided as they returned to the stairwell. “Nate probably lives the level below. I don’t know if Elior has any other children, but I suspect the next few floors will be living accommodation either for them, or his top people. It makes sense that he would keep the people he needs the most, closest to his home so they can come when he calls.” Like a king summoning his subjects, she thought with amusement. Their vampire king.
“We could take the elevator,” Cael observed.
“Do you want to get stuck in one if there is a fight?” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “No? Me either. We will stick to the stairs, I think. I wonder how many levels there are to this building.”
At level ten, she opened the door. More living space, two apartments now, she noted, tiles and not marble on the floor. The occupants of this accommodation not as high on the hierarchy as the floors above.
On level eight, a heavy slime of blood started at the door and made its way down the wall and stairs like the trail of a snail. The blood was still wet, smudging under the pad of her thumb when she rubbed the edge of the nearest smear. Ashlynn exchanged a grim look with Cael.
“Not good,” Ashlynn murmured under her breath. “Some one is either very dead or very thirsty right now.”