Scott Mariani - The Cross

‘Is there no escape from vulgarity?’ Gabriel said. ‘Come, let us pursue our activities elsewhere. I find this environment oppressive.’ He and Kali finished their champagne and got up to leave. As they passed the rowdy table, one of the yobs twisted round in his chair to ogle Kali and lick his lips. His overfed pal next to him, sporting a roast-beef complexion and a neck like a bullock’s, grinned up at Gabriel and called out, ‘Hey, mate, what’s the matter — couldn’t you get a white one?’ They all burst out laughing, elbowing each other and raising their beer glasses.

Gabriel stopped and peered down at him. ‘This is Kali,’ he said. ‘Named after the Hindu goddess of death and destruction. I would advise caution. This Kali makes the original appear like Mother Teresa of Calcutta by comparison.’

‘What the fuck’s he on about?’ the yob asked his pals.

‘Woooo, I’m really scared,’ another one said in a mock-frightened voice.

Kali tugged at Gabriel’s sleeve. ‘Let’s go.’

It was twenty minutes later when the landlord finally managed to turf the rowdy crew out of his establishment. The street outside echoed with obscenities as the tourists staggered away in search of another bar. The large beefy member of the gang broke away from them for a moment to lurch a few steps up a dark alleyway near the Bierkeller and urinate against the wall. As he did up his flies, he let out a loud belch and was about to lumber off to rejoin his friends when a force that felt like a steel cable jerked him backwards off his feet and dragged him into the shadows of the alleyway.

By the time his companions missed him, his pallid, bloodless remains were already beginning to freeze at the bottom of three different rubbish bins and a recycling skip.

For Gabriel and Kali, the night had only just begun.

Siberia

3.44 a.m. local time

By the time the Citation Bravo touched down at the tiny airfield a few miles from the mining outpost of Norilsk, the night sky was turning white with snow and visibility was so poor that the landing lights were just yellowish blurs in the raging blizzard. Neither the pilots nor the ground crew would have ever contemplated being out in these conditions if it hadn’t been for the handsome cash handouts promised by the mysterious Mr Stone.

Beyond the rusting hulk of an old Ilyushin jet liner was the little shack where the humans had strict orders to remain until the three travellers returned; they hurried over to it to warm themselves over the woodburning stove. Stepping out of the air-conditioned plane into a minus twenty degree gale, Ash might have taken refuge alongside them if he’d been willing to show human frailty in front of his two escorts.

He wasn’t about to do that. Instead, he waited in the near-whiteout with Zachary and Lillith and shivered miserably under his fur-lined parka. Under his arm he was clutching the sackcloth-wrapped executioner’s sword that he wouldn’t be parted from. After a few minutes the lights of an approaching vehicle cut swathes through the blizzard and a snow-covered black Mercedes pulled up to collect them.

An hour later, when the car had cut as deep into the white wilderness as it could, they were picked up by a little convoy of snowmobiles.

The vampires were being careful. Even though he could see hardly anything out of his remaining eye but swirling snow, Ash was blindfolded for the remainder of the journey to the Ubervampyr citadel. By the time it was removed, he was far below ground and the temperature had risen to something close to bearable. Ash looked around him at the fantastical ice caverns, like something from another world. His mouth twitched.

Zachary could see the faraway look of sadness on Lillith’s face as the guards escorted them through the citadel. ‘You’re thinking about Gabriel and Kali?’ he asked her softly.

She shrugged and said nothing.

‘He’ll come back to you,’ Zachary told her gently. ‘He always does.’

They were met by another squad of vampire guards. ‘You have it?’ their leader barked. Zachary took off the backpack he was wearing, unzipped it and took out the lead-lined case, still wrapped in the chain Gabriel had fastened around it. The guard went to snatch it, but Zachary jerked it up out of his reach.

‘This is for Master Xenrai,’ Lillith said. ‘Nobody else touches it.’

‘Is it just me, or are these guys more heavily tooled up than they were last time we were here?’ Zachary rumbled as they were led through the ice corridors. Lillith had noticed it too: there were almost twice as many vampire guards in evidence, and they carried long, cruel halberds and pikes as well as swords.

‘Only you two may enter,’ the guard said, stopping at a doorway. ‘The human comes with us.’

‘Where are you taking him?’

‘He will be kept safe. Your weapons, please. You cannot go before the Masters so armed.’

Lillith and Zachary reluctantly unstrapped their sidearms and were shown inside a high-walled chamber. Before long, the tall, bent figure of an Ubervampyr appeared, followed by a second, their robes sweeping the floor as they seemed to glide along. Zachary looked away as the creatures drew back their hoods, and not just because it was impolite to make eye contact.

‘I’d been expecting Master Xenrai,’ Lillith said, recognising the face of the Ubervampyr called Tarcz-koi who had headed the prosecution at the trial.

Tarcz-koi made a stiff little bow. ‘Just as I had been expecting Krajzok — or, as you call him, Gabriel. I am afraid that Master Xenrai is … indisposed . You will deal with me and my esteemed comrade, Grakshukh, from now on. Where is our prize?’

‘Here,’ Lillith said. She hesitated, then passed him the case. The Ubervampyr took it eagerly from her and ran a clawed hand over its surface. ‘That so small an object could cause such pain,’ he murmured.

‘Gabriel said you plan to encase the cross in liquid lead and bury it deep in the ice, where it can never do harm again and no human can ever find it,’ Lillith said.

The Master’s hideous face twisted into an expression that Lillith recognised as an enigmatic kind of smile. ‘We shall dispose of the Zcrokczak as we see fit. Tell me, where is our beloved Young One? His absence here today is a disappointment to us.’

Lillith told him.

‘A holiday,’ the Master sneered, with a glance at his colleague.

Grakshukh made a distorted creaking sound that Lillith supposed was laughter. ‘What of your human companion?’ he asked in a voice even deeper than Zachary’s. ‘Is it true what we hear?’

Lillith nodded. ‘Ash got the cross for us. He was the one who carried it into the enemy’s camp.’

‘Then victory correctly belongs to this Ash, not to Gabriel,’ Grakshukh said, his mandibles contracting in a way that showed irritation. ‘To a mere human we owe this?’

The rest of the conversation was short and strained. Tarcz-koi and his colleague seemed desperate to take their prize away, and rapidly disappeared as guards came to escort Lillith and Zachary to the quarters where they were to rest a while before their long return journey. The swords they’d handed over seemed to have mysteriously vanished.

‘What did the uglies say to you?’ Zachary asked softly on the walk back down the icy passage.

‘I’ll tell you later,’ Lillith muttered with a glance back at the guards.

‘I didn’t like the look in that thing’s eye,’ Zachary whispered, stooping closer to her ear. ‘In fact I don’t like any of this. You ask me, I’d say the motherfuckers are up to something.’

In another part of the vast citadel, the two Ubervampyr observed unseen through a semi-opaque screen of ice as the human called Ash detachedly explored his new surroundings. They had observed many humans in captivity before, and this one didn’t behave like any they’d ever seen. After pacing up and down his quarters a few times, Ash seemed to lose interest. He crouched down to unwrap the sackcloth from his sword. They watched as he lovingly caressed the blade, and then replaced it in its scabbard to drop down to the floor and begin a gruelling series of press-ups.