Hidden (Marchwood Vampire Series #1) (49 page)

‘
I’ll only feel better if you let me come with
you.’

Alexandre did
not reply.

Downstairs in
his rooms, they readied the others for their journey. Madison
paused to study Leonora. She looked so statue-like it was hard to
believe she might soon be walking and talking, that she would be
alive. And then she and Ben would have proper family of their own.
It was a nerve-wracking thought.

She’d heard
Leonora was independent and quite formidable. What would she make
of Madison and her way of life? She would probably disapprove of a
lot of things. It would be like having an eighteen-year-old
great-great-great-aunt – weird. And Freddie and Jacques? Well they
sounded like a good laugh. Ben would love to have them here. They’d
be like older brothers.

She hadn’t
told Ben anything of what had been going on. She didn’t want to
worry him or raise his hopes. He was better off enjoying his summer
holidays without complications. She decided she would only tell him
if and when anything happened.

And what about
Isobel? Madison got the impression she was quite a girly girl,
which was fine. But then she kept forgetting they were all powerful
vampires which was more than a bit intimidating. Madison’s sick
feeling returned.

Alexandre took
a long look at each of them before sealing up their crates. The
next time he saw them, they would be moments away from awakening.
He would have to help them adjust to their new environment, to cope
with the shock and upset of their world disappearing. And Leonora
and Freddie would mourn the loss of their father. It would be a
traumatic time for everyone.

He knew
everything was moving fast, but he could not think about it too
much. If he did, he might change his mind and then where would that
leave the others? In limbo perhaps forever. No. He was doing the
only thing he could. He understood why Madison was upset and
sceptical, but he had no doubt she would do exactly the same thing
in his situation.

He took the
hammer and drove nails into each of the crates, ensuring no light
could find its way in. It felt wrong to hide them away again, but
he knew he was doing it for the right reasons.

At 9.20pm, a
sleek black van pulled up in front of the house. Alexandre opened
the door as the driver exited the vehicle. He was a beefy man in a
tight-fitting suit. Alexandre also wore a suit. Madison had
eventually relented and taken him to a gentleman’s tailor where he
had half-a-dozen suits made to measure. He did not care for his
casual clothes and they now lay, unworn in the bottom of his
wardrobe.

‘
Mr Chevalier?’ the man asked in a gruff cockney
accent.

Alexandre
nodded.

‘
Good evening, Sir. I’ve come to take you to Hamilton
Blythe.’

Alexandre had
already carried the crates upstairs and they were now lined up in
the large hallway.

‘
Are these going in the back?’ the man bent down to lift one
up.

‘
Please leave those. I will take them.’

‘
It’s no problem, Sir. I can ...’

‘
No. I will take them.’

The driver
stepped back and watched as Alexandre bent to lift the first of the
boxes. Of course, he picked it up as though lifting a scrap of
cardboard off the floor. The driver moved aside, a look of grudging
admiration skimming his features.

The driver
opened the van’s rear doors and Alexandre laid the crates
one-by-one on its carpeted floor. The driver jumped up into the
back and began securing them with thick straps but Alexandre
motioned to him to step outside. He would see to his family. Once
satisfied they were completely secure, Alexandre stepped down and
walked around to the front of the van, opening up the passenger
door. Madison was sitting there.

‘
Non!’ he said.

‘
Yes,’ she replied.

‘
We have talked about this.’

‘
Uh, no.
You
talked about it and
I
disagreed. I’m coming and you can’t stop me.
Everything’s sorted. Ben’s staying at a mate’s for a couple of
days. If you don’t let me ride with you, I’ll just follow in the
Land Rover. I know where the offices are.’

The driver got
into the van, pretending not to hear their conversation. Alexandre
shook his head, with a face like thunder. He lifted her out and she
began to struggle.

‘
I will sit in the middle,’ he said. ‘You can sit on the other
side, near the door.’ Madison stopped fighting against
him.

‘
Thank you,’ she said

The traffic
was light and the drive was fast and smooth, taking just under two
hours to reach the solicitors’ Marylebone offices. No one engaged
in conversation. Madison knew Alexandre was cross with her, but she
slipped her small hand into his and he took it. He held it in both
his hands, running his thumb gently along her fingers and palm.

She looked
chic in a short navy Chloe dress and Alexandre’s eyes were riveted
to her slim bare legs. He kept glancing at the driver to make sure
he wasn’t looking anywhere near Madison. He was so tense it
wouldn’t take much for him to flip. The driver, however, was
completely focused on the road. He had obviously been briefed to
speak when spoken to and keep his mind on the job and nothing
else.

He swung the
large vehicle into a concealed entrance which led down a steep ramp
to an underground car park. They drove right up to the far end
where about thirty or forty vehicles were parked.  The driver
pulled up next to a set of large metal double doors and got out of
the van. He approached the double doors and pressed a buzzer,
speaking into the intercom.

Four men in
white coats came through the doors, wheeling wide steel hospital
gurneys. Madison and Alexandre exited the van and walked around to
meet them. Their driver had started unbuckling the straps which
held the crates in place, but as soon as he saw Alexandre’s face,
he jumped out of the van and let Alexandre take over.

Alexandre
effortlessly lifted the crates onto the gurneys and they followed
the white coats through the double doors and along a dimly-lit
hospital-like corridor. Madison’s heart hammered against her
ribcage. She had a bad feeling about this, but was still glad she
had come.

Seconds later,
they arrived at a set of lifts. One of the white coats pressed the
button and the lift doors opened. Two trolleys were wheeled into
one, and two into another. Alexandre did not like this arrangement
as he was loathe to let any of the crates out of his sight, but
this time he didn’t protest; he just clenched one of his fists and
got into the nearest lift.

They descended
three floors and Alexandre was put in mind of the underground
Cappadocian city all those years ago – of secrets buried deep
underground. The doors opened and he was relieved to see the other
two gurneys outside the doors. Two smart-suited men waited in the
lobby. One of them, Alexandre recognised as Winston Blythe. The
other, a younger man, he did not know.

‘
Alexandre, welcome,’ Blythe said, extending his hand.
Alexandre shook it.

‘
This is Madison Greene,’ Alexandre said.

‘
I’m very pleased to meet you, Madison,’ Blythe said, with a
smile. ‘We weren’t expecting you, but you are very
welcome.’

‘
Hello,’ she said and then she turned to the other man and
fixed him with a glare. It was Vasey-Smith.

‘
Madison, how are you?’

‘
I’m fine,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘Might’ve been
nice you’d warned me I was moving into a houseful of vampires
though.’

‘
Please,’ Alexandre said softly. ‘Not now, Madison. It is not
the time.’

‘
Sorry,’ she said to Alexandre and turned away from
Vasey-Smith.

Vasey-Smith
gave a small shrug and extended his hand to Alexandre. ‘It’s very
good to meet you at last. My name is Robert Vasey-Smith.’

Alexandre
shook the proffered hand and shook it once.

‘
Would you like to follow me,’ Blythe said. ‘I’m sure you’re
anxious to get started.’

The small
group made their way out of the lobby, along a plush carpeted
corridor, lined with a lot of closed doors. One of the gurneys had
a squeaky wheel, the only noise in their dimly-lit hushed
surroundings. They turned left and then left again.

Alexandre
could not shake a sense of déjà vu. Flashbacks of the past. Images
of ancient darkened caverns and winding narrow tunnels came
unbidden to his mind. Of screams and blood and death. He had to try
and concentrate, to focus on the present or he felt like he might
lose his mind.

Everything
here smelt sterile, of man-made fibres, metal, glass, plastic and
cleaning fluids. He realised they were all now standing outside an
opaque glass door, waiting whilst Vasey-Smith opened it.

They filed
into a vast high-tech room with a wall of glass at one end - a
viewing gallery. A bank of padded benches lined the back of the
room and several swivel chairs sat in front of a wide console with
rows of buttons and levers. The room was dark. The only source of
light came from a few glowing buttons on the console and from the
brightly lit room on the other side of the glass window. This
looked down onto a large area very much like a hospital operating
theatre, with a bed surrounded by complicated apparatus and a
cylindrical industrial-sized lamp on a long swivel arm.

‘
Please sit down.’ Vasey-Smith pointed to the leather benches
but Madison and Alexandre remained standing.

‘
Leave us please,’ Blythe said to the white coats, who exited
the room, leaving the crates there. Blythe turned to Alexandre.
‘Please have a seat while I explain something to you.’ He sat
himself on one of the black leather swivel chairs and Alexandre sat
next to him. Madison remained standing.

‘
As you can see,’ Blythe said. ‘We are all set up and ready to
go, but there is one thing we must do before we proceed.’ He paused
and looked at Alexandre who did not speak or change his facial
expression, but continued to stare intently at the man. Blythe
cleared his throat and continued. ‘To put it simply, we need a live
subject to determine the level of cell degradation that is
acceptable before complete disintegration of the tissue occurs. As
long as we can determine this, we can avoid irreversible damage to
the others.’

Alexandre
immediately grasped what the man was trying to tell him. ‘You want
to put me under the UV lamp?’

‘
No!’ Madison cried. ‘I knew this was dodgy. We should leave,
Alexandre. There’s no way you can go under that light. You’ll
die!’

‘
I understand your reticence, Miss Greene. And believe me when
I say I wish there was another way; but there is not. Without this
first step, it will be entirely hit and miss as to whether or not
the others survive the exposure. My people assure me they are
hopeful Alexandre will not suffer any lasting damage, just some
discomfort and it will mean the difference between success and
failure.’

‘
That’s bullshit-speak for you hope he don’t die and it’s
gonna hurt like ...’

‘
Madison,’ Alexandre interrupted. ‘It is fine. I do not mind
one bit. It will be easy for me to do this. I want to do it if it
means there will less of a risk to the others.’

‘
But more of a risk for you,’ she said.

Alexandre
turned to Winston Blythe. ‘Yes. I am happy to go ahead.’

Vasey-Smith
spoke to somebody on a speaker phone and suddenly, the room below
started filling up with people in white coats, setting up equipment
and switching on monitors.

Madison approached Alexandre and put her hand on his
shoulder. ‘Please,’ she whispered.
‘I’m
scared. Don’t do it. What if …’

‘
Shhh,’ he put his fingers to her lips. ‘You know I have no
choice. You know this, so do not protest.’

She let her
hands drop to her side, realising he wouldn’t listen to her.
Alexandre stood and squared his shoulders.

‘
I am ready whenever you are,’ he said to the two men. He bent
down and kissed Madison on the lips, having long-since shed his
nineteenth century attitudes to public displays of affection. She
ran her fingers through his dark hair and they hugged
quickly.

‘
One thing has just occurred to me,’ Alexandre said to Winston
Blythe.

‘
Yes?’

‘
Before I awoke. Madison told me I drank, first from her and
then from her brother. The blood may have fortified me against some
of harmful effects of the light. I think it may be necessary for
the others to drink before they are exposed. In fact, I insist upon
it.’

‘
Very well,’ Winston Blythe said without flinching. ‘I will
arrange it.’

Madison was
shocked by the calm manner in which the old man had responded to
such a gruesome request. She wondered if he would ask for
volunteers or force some poor white-coated stooge to submit.

‘
Do you also need some for yourself?’ Blythe asked
Alexandre.

‘
No, I have fed recently.’

A young woman
wearing a black suit and glasses came into the room. She ignored
Madison and spoke to Alexandre in French.

‘
Suivez-moi s'il vous plaît, monsieur.’

Alexandre
smiled at her, enjoying the sound of his native tongue.

Madison looked at the woman whose blonde hair was pulled
severely off her pretty face in a neat bun.
Bitch
.