Part 8 (2/2)

Domine didn't say anything immediately, but ushered me away from the desk to an easy chair in a breakout area she had set up. I sat down stiffly.

”And the others who may come asking?” She opened a cabinet as I struggled against my conscience. ”Well?” She turned and handed me a gla.s.s of wine. She turned the main lights off and sat opposite me, across a gla.s.s coffee table. The only light source was a low lamp s.h.i.+ning onto the tabletop, leaving our faces in partial darkness.

”I can't say. I know I'm asking a lot here. If representatives of a government or federal inst.i.tution...” I paused, unwilling to go on. I couldn't stand the thought of Valerie disappearing into the Obs laboratory through no fault of her own, but I was on the point of disobeying an army order.

Domine held up a hand. ”Enough,” she said. ”You demand a great deal from me, on trust.”

”Yes.” There seemed no other answer.

”And, in return, do you trust me?” She reached forward to pick up her wine. I'd thought she might be forty earlier in the night. Maybe it was the lighting, maybe she was tired, but she looked older now. Her eyes glittered in the gloom.

I tried to concentrate, sift through the night's jumble of emotions and images in my head. ”Yes,” I said again, and I meant it.

”Vraiment,” she murmured, getting up to fetch something from a drawer in her desk.

She placed it on the table between us with a metallic click. It was one of the spiked collars her wait staff wore. My mouth went dry.

She sat back in the shadows, her fingers meditatively tracing the contours of the collar, sliding carefully over the barbs.

”Do you know, the angoisse was designed to teach young ladies the benefits of sitting straight and keeping the head upright?”

”Seems extreme,” I managed to say.

”For that, it is, without doubt. Yet it outlasted the society and the thinking that designed it. And still, it has the capacity to teach.” Her voice had become low, hypnotic. ”I use it only as a gift. It may surprise you, Amber, but many come to me, thinking they wish to learn. Very few become torquate and wear the angoisse.”

”I'm not interested.”

”Quite. One is enough.”

”What do you mean?”

”I mean you wear one already.” She stirred. ”You are wrapped in barbs so you cannot move. You can barely breathe without the pressure of them threatening to pierce your skin. Who has done this to you, Amber?”

The sounds of the club drifted in through all the soundproofing around her office. Much louder, my heart thudded in my ears. ”I don't know what you mean,” I said.

”I have been many years in my trade. A person who pa.s.ses by might say I trade in pain. A person who lingers might say I trade in desire. I do neither. I simply enable people to look within themselves. And in return, I am granted some sight there.”

Her description of my life now, wrapped around with threats from the prions in my blood, threats from the army, the pain of not being able to confide, it all seemed so accurate and yet how could she know any of this? How could she claim to see as much as she did? I had to believe in vampires. But what else was out there? Or rather, right here?

”Come,” she said, picking up the angoisse and standing. ”Trust me. I will show you, just briefly.”

”Why?”

”You have helped one of mine. You have gifted me knowledge. This is my gift in return to you.”

She walked behind me. My breath stuck in my throat. I held up a hand to stop her.

”It is a matter of trust, Amber.”

I owed her for her trust. What was she going to do? Put something uncomfortable on my neck for a few seconds. How bad could it be? What would it feel like? My hand dropped.

I s.h.i.+vered as the metal scratched my neck. There was a click as she fastened it at the back and then her hands rested on my shoulders.

It was lighter than I'd thought. Barbs seemed to touch me everywhere, but nothing pierced me. I stayed very still, very upright, my chin up, and tried to breathe smoothly. I felt an obscure sense of pride. I could wear this if I had to. Seconds stretched. I flexed my neck slightly. I felt the barbs press into the skin. I raised my chin. Different barbs dug into different parts of my throat. How right she was. This was exactly how it felt.

With a twist, she undid the clasp and removed the collar.

”Familiar?” she said, returning to her seat and leaving the angoisse on the table.

My fingers pa.s.sed over my neck, feeling the phantom pressure of the barbs and the old memories of fangs biting. I s.h.i.+vered again.

”The deepest lesson, that few really wish to learn,” she said, ”is that when that special desire comes, that overwhelming desire that will not be denied, the angoisse will not stop you doing what you truly wish. Whatever the cost.”

We drained our wine and walked to the door.

”Whatever G.o.ds look down on you, Amber,” she murmured, as if in prayer, ”may they guide your steps, and your hand.”

Chapter 10.

Back at my apartment, the whole day seemed to recede into a dream.

The colonel had organized a data library on the internet. I accessed it from my laptop and started to upload the security footage from the club. The connection was lousy and I distracted myself by trying to write a report of what had happened. I was bone tired and my mind was fuzzy. In the end I kept it to a link to the footage and one word-call.

Lying back on my bed, waiting for the upload to complete, I reached out and picked up Tara's plaque from the bedside table.

Tara was my twin sister. She'd been stillborn. No one understood why I kept her plaque with me, or why I'd had it made, back when I was still at school.

People who lost loved ones sometimes had a photograph. I'd seen ones with birth and death dates on them. Tara had none of these. She'd never really been born, or died. There were no dates. There was no photograph. Others had tried to make out that she didn't exist because of that. Maybe I was the only person who still thought of her.

I held her plaque. It was so glossy that I could see myself in the reflection. I didn't need a photograph. This is what she would look like now.

”Tough day?” she said.

”You could say. Found the vampires though.”

”Tell me about it.”

It seemed easier to tell her than it had been to write a report. Of course, there were things I'd wanted to downplay in the report that I could just say to my twin.

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