Chapter 22: Death

With a secure pace he walked along the edge of the roof, the London skyline gleaming like an ocean of tar strewn with drops of amber. The wind tore at his long, black coat as he sat down at the corner and looked down into the streets where he held his eyes on two persons walking closely together. His black eyes moved behind the shades, narrow and observing. A finger placed on his head-set blocked off the worst of the wind.

"They're heading down St. Martin's Avenue," he said and glanced ahead to the other roof top just on the other side of the street where he saw Nathaniel sit like a raven, his dark hair stretched into the air like black serpents, a male medusa, his black jacket blowing in the wind like the pair of black wings that Shade had and Nathaniel hadn't.

"They're still visible. Perhaps we should call it off?" Nathaniel answered through the head-set.

"No. Lord Darklighter wanted them caught."

On the street, two men walked beside each other. The one was more spindle than the other and had greasy, dirty blond hair and sharp, grey eyes. His name was Angelo Davis and his brother, tall and slightly sturdier with brown, warm eyes, was Cato Davis. They were both clad in shabby-looking clothes, no brands or at least newer clothes. They had patches and stitches that kept the seams together. At least the weather was warmer than it had been for some weeks.

They stopped under a street lamp; the dim light cone cast their shadows on the ground. Angelo turned around and looked at Cato as he lit a cigarette and took a long drag.

"When were you supposed to be home with Aninka?" he asked. Cato looked at his wrist watch.

"Soon. I've gotta tuck her in," he said. "What did you want?"

"I'm gonna try and get into the mansion. I need data. Zenith said that the security measures have changed since we were there. Have you been out there lately?"

"No, not since I heard about the kids that died," Cato replied. "I disguised myself as a police man, but we were never allowed inside the mansion itself. But I s'pose it's far more secure than earlier."

"Damn it," Angelo spat at the ground.

"So, why did you drag me out here?" Cato asked.

"It's safer here," Angelo glanced up at the roof tops and a light frown appeared. "We're out in the open and the agents won't -"

A gunshot cut him off. It came as if out of nowhere and hit his shoulder. The cigarette fell to the ground from his lips when he bent forward and clasped his shoulder with a painful cry. He supported himself up against the street lamp. Another gunshot followed the other but missed.

"Angelo!" Cato exclaimed and was about to duck down and get hold of his brother, but Angelo pushed him off.

"Get away! Run! Get home to Aninka before it's too late," Angelo said through gritted teeth. Cato didn't repeat the words but darted away as fast as he could. He looked up and behind him where he saw a dark shadow following him on the roof top just beside him, many floors above. A werewolf, one of the few in the service of Matthew Darklighter.

He ran as he had never run before. The blocks passed him by like wisps of shadow. Although he had been excluded from the family, his body still had some of the universal benefits of being a Darklighter, among these speed and agility. He turned several corners, jumped low fences in backyards and crawled waste dumpsters to jump over walls. He was always aware of the danger which ignited his sixth sense, the sense of danger which hadn't, so far, let him down.

He finally reached the nearby passages of Trafalgar Square and found his car parked as he had left it. He slipped in, turned on the engine and slipped out from the curb and sped away as fast as the old Ford could manage. He could almost hear the pounding of the heavy paws in the pavement somewhere behind him and now and then the screeching sound of a long claw on the lacquer forced him to speed as much as possible. He raced eastwards along the Thames, and finally there was no longer the same panic in his system as earlier. He banged his head against the head rest and cursed. His brother had just died and he had done nothing. On the other hand, he thought about Aninka, his daughter. He had a responsibility to stay alive and take care of her and make sure that Matthew never put his hands on her.

He came round to the inner parts of East End and arrived at the flat block where he had lodged himself and his daughter. He parked the car and didn't bother to lock it; it was too old and rusty to be stolen, even in the harsh neighbourhood. He nodded at the pusher and two whores who usually stood outside his flat and went in. He darted up the stairs and to the cluttered flat where he went inside, locked the door and threw the key on the drawer. The floor was covered in old newspapers, shoes were flung at the door and he had to pass the opening to the kitchen to reach the living room where the television was turned on. On an old couch lay Aninka under a blanket. Her golden hair waved over the arm rest where she had her head.

He went closer and turned off the television with the remote. The girl whimpered and opened her sleepy eyes.

"I wus watchin' tha'," she complained with a hoarse voice.

"Not anymore, sweetheart," Cato said and stroked her hair as he sat down beside her. "You wanna sleep in my bed tonight?

"Yea, where were ya?" she asked and rubbed her eyes clear of the sleep. He gathered the blanket around her and carried her from the couch and into the little room where his bed stood.

"Out," he said. "I was to say hi from Angelo."

"Uncle Angie?" Aninka asked as she snuggled up to her father. He nodded quietly and felt the tears gather at the rim of his eyes as he thought about the image of his brother shot and leaning against the street lamp in the deserted street. But he had to be strong, Aninka was not supposed to see him weak, it would devastate her to see her father displaying his weaknesses; it would mean that she would be weak one day, and it could mean the death of her, seeing that she was the daughter of a Davis and not a Darklighter.

"Yes," he answered. "He's going to be away for a long time now."

"Has he gone on a journey?" Aninka asked and tilted her head to look inquiringly at her father. He merely nodded and stroked her hair. A single tear drop crept out of the corner of his eye and fell into her hair. She said nothing, only pretended to fall asleep. Cato lay a while and stared into the wall, trying to get the images out of his head. In the end, he let go of her and rose to go into the living room. The flat block was rather tall and he had a full view of the city. Not that he paid for it, none of the inhabitants did. He opened a window and lit a cigarette as he listened to the nighttime traffic far below and allowed the tears to flow. Finally he found his phone, dialled a number and waited.

"Hi, it's Zenith, you've reached my voicemail. Please leave a message after the tone."

A shrill beep was heard. Cato held his breath before he began:

"Hi, it's me. Listen, Zenith... Angelo is dead. An agent shot him. I've just come home... I was thinking about going to Berlin, if... Never mind. Things have begun. Angelo wanted to get inside the mansion again and get the data he needed to convict Matthew. Perhaps also look for Nicola again since you failed... So, uhm. Please call me as soon as you get this. I'd really appreciate it. Anyway," he looked over his shoulder to the bed room doorway where he saw Aninka shift in her sleep. "I was to say hi from Aninka. Or well, she's asleep. She's probably going to miss her uncle. She misses you, at least, I think. So... let's talk again, sometime. When things have gotten better... I hope. See you around."

And he hung up. He looked out over the city. Above them, the frail wisps of clouds sailed away, here and there stars shone bright but most of them were dimmed because of the light reflected from the city. It lay like a dark mass dotted with orange spots of fluorescent liquids. They swam together like mating fireflies as the tears got more violent. He broke down into convulsive sobs and hung over the window sill as he cried, the smoke still lit in his hand but oblivious to him. A sudden touch on his shoulder dragged him back into reality and he spun around as he had fallen to the floor only to see Aninka tugging her toy rabbit closer to her as she looked at him sadly.

"What happened to your eyes?" she asked worried and reached out with a hand to touch his moistened cheek.

"Nothing, darling," he gasped, still alive with the shock. He took her hand and held it instead. "Weren't you sleeping?"

"I woke up," she shrugged and he smiled, somehow relieved that there was still something human about her. He had seen her eyes get darker once, but that was all her former Darklighter genes had applied to her, at least of what he had noticed. He sincerely hoped it was all.

"Come," he took one last drag on the cigarette and put it out before he threw the stud out of the window. "Let's get some sleep."

"Were you crying?" she asked as they went back into bed.

"Yeah, I was," he acknowledged that she knew a lot more than he sometimes believed she did; children were astonishing creatures, so full of observations and a logic which no adult could ever comprehend. How he wished he was just a child right now.

"Why? Is uncle not coming home again?" she asked as they lay down.

"I don't think so, sweety," Cato answered honestly. Aninka nodded sadly, and they fell asleep beside each other.

Meanwhile in Heathrow, Kelly dragged her trolley behind her out of the gate and looked for a taxi to the inner city. The night was deep and all she had to go for was an address and a name: "Liberty".