For the rest of the day, he’d been attended to by a tall, bald and cadaverously gaunt man who introduced himself as Seymour Finch, personal assistant to Mr Stone. Lonsdale found Finch’s presence uncomfortable. There was something strange and unsettling about him.
It was only after dark that Lonsdale’s host appeared, apologising that his business affairs tended to occupy his entire day. The two men had dined together in the great hall, drunk fine cognac and smoked cigars. Stone had been not only a charming and affable host, but a man of culture and intellect. Lonsdale had never met anyone able to quote so extensively from classical literature, the Bible, the Greek philosophers. He knew history as though he’d virtually lived it.
That night, Lonsdale had been woken in his luxurious bedroom by the sound of strange music. He climbed out of bed, opened his door. The music seemed to be drifting up from somewhere below. He pulled on a satin robe and followed the sound, treading quietly through the castle’s cold, dark halls and passageways. The music was like none he’d ever heard before and it seemed to lure him, as though it had some hypnotic quality that whispered in his mind.
He came to the door of what looked like a wine cellar. It creaked open to reveal steps leading down. At the bottom of the steps, another door lay half open. The music was coming from inside.
Lonsdale couldn’t help himself. He had to see what was in there. Peeking through the gap, instead of a cellar he saw a decadently opulent room richly decorated with tapestries and exotic rugs and gold-threaded cushions scattered across the floor. On a huge bed was the naked figure of Gabriel Stone, his physique lithe and muscular and perfect, surrounded by three beautiful women who were making love to him.
As Lonsdale watched from the shadows, a hand had touched his shoulder and he’d nearly screamed in terror. He’d turned to see a woman even more beautiful than the ones on Stone’s bed. She smiled and put her finger to her lips. Beckoned him away from the door. ‘Come,’ she whispered. The look in her dark eyes meant just one thing.
Lonsdale had followed her back through the passageways. She was bewitching. Her raven hair was tangled and wild like a gypsy’s, and when she glanced back at him with that smile, her lips were red and glistening. The way she moved drove him wild. Every nerve in his body tingled with lust for her as she led him back to his room. Inside, she shut the door with a smile. He was almost panting by now.
‘W-who are you?’ he stammered.
‘I’m Lillith. Gabriel’s sister.’ She walked him to the bed and shrugged the gown from her shoulders. She was naked under it.
Lonsdale tore at his robe. ‘You’re beaut—’
‘Shh. Quiet.’ Then she kissed him, and pulled him down onto the bed.
It had been a memorable night.
When Lonsdale had awoken next morning, Lillith was gone. He’d searched the castle obsessively for her. Returning to the room below, he’d found the door heavily padlocked. He’d spent the whole day thinking about her. She was like a drug, and he wanted more.
Lillith had come back to him for the next two nights. Two more nights of wild, dizzy passion. She was incredible. She did things to him that he’d never imagined possible.
Then, on the third night, just when he thought he was completely spent, Lillith opened up a whole new world for him. The candlelight gleamed on her skin as she knelt there on the bed – and flickered across the blade of the dagger she’d drawn from under the pillow. He’d watched, speechless with excitement, as she held its sharp tip to her chest and slashed herself. A rivulet of blood tricked down her breast. Her lips had opened a little wider, and Lonsdale had seen the white fangs, long and curved. She’d cupped her hands behind his head and pulled him in closer. ‘Drink me!’ She threw back her head and gasped in anticipation as he lowered his face to her breast and put out his tongue to lick up the flowing blood. Every nerve in his body had been aflame.
In that moment of enthralling wonder, Gabriel Stone had walked into the room, interrupting them. He’d shouted harshly at Lillith, and she’d retreated in fear, covering herself up with a sheet.
Then Stone had turned to Lonsdale. ‘You’re not so afraid of us, are you, Jeremy? That’s interesting.’
‘Who are you?’ Lonsdale breathed. ‘What are you?’
Stone smiled. ‘Do you not know? We are the ones with the power. The power to change your life forever. And I do mean forever. You can become one of us. Become everything that a human isn’t. You like that idea, don’t you, Jeremy?’
‘What do I have to do?’
Stone gave another smile. ‘You will be contacted.’
Then he was gone, and when Lonsdale looked around, he saw that Lillith had disappeared with him.
He hadn’t seen them again for a long time.
The following day, Lonsdale had reluctantly returned to London. Life had gone on – but it held little appeal. He’d tasted something infinitely more rewarding, and it preyed on his mind until he thought he was going to go insane with frustration.
For three long months, he’d heard nothing. Then one day in early June, the strange man called Seymour Finch had paid an unexpected visit to his London office. Inside the slim briefcase he carried with him was the agreement drawn up by his employer Mr Stone.
As contracts went, it was extremely simple. The price would be twenty million euros, to be wired to a Zurich bank account. Within hours, Lonsdale had arranged the transfer and was choking with anticipation to hear from Stone’s people again.
Nothing. As the summer turned to autumn, Lonsdale was beginning to think he’d been the victim of an elaborate con trick. He’d become so agitated that he’d been virtually unable to conduct his daily affairs.
Nothing, until late September, when the man called Finch had returned. Mr Stone’s end of the deal would soon be honoured, he said. There was to be a ceremony.
‘What kind of ceremony?’ Lonsdale asked nervously.
‘An initiation,’ Finch had replied. ‘The first stage in your induction. But first, Mr Stone requires a service from you. A ship will be arriving in London within the next few weeks. You are to use your influence to ensure that its cargo arrives safely, unexamined, unquestioned.’
And Lonsdale, helpless, hooked and counting the days to the ceremony, had seen to it.
But now, as he sat here in the warm Italian sunlight, sipping the last of his iced lemon vodka, he was beginning to have second thoughts.
The initiation had been horrible. It hadn’t only been because of what they’d done to the poor young girl they’d slaughtered. It had been the look on Lillith’s face, like a wild animal that hadn’t fed for days. He kept seeing it in his mind, and it brought a taste of revulsion into the back of his throat.
Was that really the kind of creature he wanted to become?
Sitting here gazing out at the Tuscan hills, he couldn’t stop thinking about how all this was going to change when Stone finally took him over the edge. Turned him. The turning point from which there was no return. He’d never again be able to sit outside and enjoy the golden autumnal colours of the trees. The glow of the sunshine on his face would become a distant memory. Not just for a lifetime, but for a whole eternity of darkness. Was that what he really, truly wanted? He’d have to renounce his whole career. Spend the rest of time lurking, hiding, in the shadows. Like a criminal.
Power. Limitless power. But at what cost?
Worst of all, he might never be able to visit Toby again. Lonsdale closed his eyes. Saw the boy’s bright, smiling face in his mind, heard the sound of his laughter.
When he opened his eyes, they were moist.
How could I have been so stupid?
It