Page 115

Isabel made a sound of utter revulsion, turning away. The disgust on her face spoke volumes, and Tom could tell this wasn’t just murder to her, it was something far worse.

“What does this mean for us?” he asked.

Isabel sighed. “It means our enemy will be more formidable than we had previously anticipated. It also explains – to someextent – why Alistair’s accomplice has been moving about during the day, and perhaps even how Alistair survived such terrible experiments.” She raised her glass. “As such, this is more necessary than ever.”

“Delightful,” Adam said dryly, pushing a laptop across the counter towards Tom, who was busy suppressing the urge to vomit.

“What do you want me to do with that?” He asked once his stomach was under control again.

“Find Erin’s location.” Adam gave him a look that clearly implied Tom was being slow on purpose.

“Google it? Are you serious?” Tom snorted. “Because typing ‘vampire kidnapping locations’ into Maps is really going to help.”

“No. I want you to cross-reference the information we have with the additional facts Nick is about to share with us.” He gave a little laugh. “You are the most technologically inclined amongst us. I’ve never cared for the internet.”

Tom ignored him but carefully pulled the laptop closer, angling the screen away from the others. “What facts?”

Nicholas swept a hand through his already dishevelled hair, draining the last of his glass of blood. “There are many things as could be relevant…”

“So start at the beginning. You said you didn’t meet in Paris. Where did you meet?” Isabel was reliably matter-of-fact, and Tom was grateful she had no qualms about getting straight to the point where the others appeared to dawdle.

“He was workin’ at a fair on the outskirts with his mother; some fortune-telling trick for the tourists, I think. I found itmildly entertainin’. He was moving to the city, and I had the room available.” He rolled his shoulders, the gesture distinctly human for a vampire.

“Did he have a family? Was he already a vampire?” Isabel pushed.

“I dinnae ken! He wisnae a vampire, no. But he knew what I was,” he hesitated. “I cannae say if I made him, but I fed on him – an accident, and I didnae ken what I do now…” Nicholas paced the length of the kitchen.

“What about his character? What was he like, back then?” Adam urged.

“I barely remember, Adam. Twas such a short time, amidst all the memories.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, staring out of the window into the darkness beyond the glass. “He was canny. A scientific thinker, I suppose. And he enjoyed his tricks and games; I remember that much. Tis why I suspected he was connected; the flowers – the note.”

“‘Checkmate,’” Tom quoted.

“Aye. We would play chess together in the camp, with pebbles and a board drawn in the dirt. Twas our way of keepin’ sane, of focusing on somethin’ else. We’d share stories. Parts of our lives from before,” Nicholas explained, turning back to the counter and seating himself opposite Isabel.

“Were there any other games?” she asked.

“It wasnae merely games – it’s hard to explain. It was the winnin’ of the thing; the flair and drama – twas why he came to Paris. He loved the theatre and the arts. I suspect he’ll want to set the stage for me now, too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? He’s preparing dinner and a show?”

“I’d imagine… he’ll do anythin’ he thinks might hurt me as they hurt him. If he thinks I abandoned him, he’ll want to remind me of the suffering we endured. Thatheendured, because of me.” He rubbed his temples with a finger and thumb, his hair sticking up boyishly.

“He will want to remind you of the war?” Adam said, nodding.

“I should expect so,” Isabel agreed. “Though I doubt anyone could forget.”

“He already has been,” Nicholas murmured.

Adam frowned. “What on earth do you mean?”

Nicholas gazed at the floor tiles. “It wasnae til we were at Erin’s that I realised…” he hesitated. “Tom mentioned the water temperature at Maggie’s had been controlled. That someone was keepin’ Jonathan awake, starving him…”

“And?” Tom asked.

“There were experiments in water like that at the camp, to do with blood coagulation… And there were prisoners left tortured, forced to stand in the same spot. Even the woman left on your doorstep, Adam—” he looked to his friend. “She was arranged like the corpses of runaways used to be, out front.”

“So there have been clues all along, and you said nothing.” Adam’s tone barely contained his irritation. “Hints at every death.”