‘Of course. I have no use for the brat.’
I experience a flash of anger. Bitch. Can’t let my anger make me careless. I flex my tense shoulders. My voice is calm. ‘How do we do this?’
She reaches forward suddenly, swift as a snake, fixes her eyes on me, and lightly strokes my knuckles. It is like a lover’s sweet touch. I freeze: the revulsion is incredible. I fight down centuries worth of instinct. The kind that saved prehistoric man from becoming the saber-toothed tiger’s lunch. I stare into her eyes. She smiles sensuously. Seems almost drunk with the power she has over me.
‘I want your fall from grace to be public. I want you to give up every claim you have on the Barrington wealth. And then I want you to come here and sign me out.’
‘Why? What benefit to you?’
She shrugs. ‘Satisfaction.’
‘Done.’
She frowns. ‘Did you understand what I said? You will retain neither the name nor the wealth of the Barrington family.’
‘Perfectly.’
Twisted anger flashes in her eyes. Did she actually imagine I would sacrifice my son to keep the Barrington name?
‘You’d do that for her and that…little, common spawn of hers?’ she lashes out with frustration.
‘That little, common spawn is my son.’
She leans back and with pretended casualness looks at her nails. ‘How wrong I was about you. I thought even though you weren’t a real Barrington you were better than an ordinary commoner.’ She fixes me with her eyes. ‘But you’re not. You are just like them. And you proved it by falling in love with the lowest scrounger of them all. You only know to put your own selfish lust ahead of truly important things.’
I stand and look down on her, an empty shell animated by hatred and intense jealously. ‘I’ll come by when everything is done.’
‘And oh! For dinner tonight I’d like black cod with a medley of Oriental vegetables. All steaming hot and prepared by a Michelin starred restaurant.’
I look at her evenly. ‘Would you like wine with it?’
She smiles. ‘Yes, and I’d like a gourmet dinner delivered to me for the rest of my stay here.’
‘I’ll get Laura to arrange it.’
‘Goodbye, Blake.’
I ring the bell to call the nurse and turn to look at her. ‘If you renege on your word, I swear I will tear you apart limb from limb with my bare hands and a blunt knife.’
She laughs, an insolent, taunting laugh.
The nurse comes and I leave her poisonous presence with relief.
Twenty-One
Victoria Jane Montgomery
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 g*y. 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.