G
radually Ankerita became aware that she was still alive. She also became aware of her beautiful executioner lying on the floor beside the table. She felt her bonds were weakened, and began to try and free a hand. There was a curse from beside her. Fantasia levered herself up, and stared in confusion at the girl’s undamaged body. Ankerita sighed, and murmured, almost apologetically, “That didn’t go swimmingly, did it?”
Fantasia picked up the knife, and muttered as she inspected it. She scratched a line on the black marble with the point. It left a groove, and stone dust. The men had returned, and apart from savagely restraining Danny, were ogling her. Fantasia didn’t notice. She feebly raised the knife again. “I can’t have missed.”
“Wait, you have to redo the ritual,” Ankerita interjected, hope and understanding starting to form in her mind. The hand was nearly free. It must have been the ritual, not any knot that was restraining me, she realised.
“A plague on that.” Fantasia advanced on her victim. “I’ll do for you properly, this time.”
“Don’t you want immortality?” Ankerita’s words stopped the knife in mid-air. “Unless you perform the ritual correctly, you won’t get any of the benefits.”
“You’re right, damn you to Hell.”
“And you.” Ankerita sighed. “I will see you there.”
Fantasia scowled. “Forget that; I’ll take my chances with the immortality thing. Your blood must have some properties, even if I don’t follow the rites. At least I will be rid of you, and that friend of yours.”
“You will have her blood on your hands.” Danny blurted. “Are you a murderer? I don’t believe you have done, so far. Start, and the Law will get you eventually. Not everyone can be bribed to keep quiet.”
Fantasia regarded the blade, uncertainly. “A good observation, but what to do?”
“Give me the knife.” Jones gently took it from her. She did not object. “We all want rid of the bitch, and until she goes, you won’t rest. I will do it for you... or I could simply throttle the life out of her.”
“No, the blood would definitely be useless that way.”
“Then I’ll use the knife.”
“Hold, man. Give me a moment to consult the book again. Perhaps the blood, on its own, will be of benefit...”
Fantasia took up the Book, and pored over it, oblivious to her nakedness, and the lecherous glances from Jones. Danny, on his knees, stared hopelessly, and Praed gave him the odd thump for no apparent reason. Ankerita shut her eyes and tried to contact anyone or thing in the spirit world to help her out of this terminal mess, but all the time working at the bond on her wrist.
Eventually, Fantasia closed the book. Ankerita froze. “I think it will work,” she said. “Collect the blood, and I’ll determine how to use it afterwards. Over to you, Mr Jones, and stop leering at me.” She retrieved her dress, and climbed back into it. Jones made no attempt to avert his eyes. “I’ll leave her to you.” She turned theatrically on her heel, and strode towards the office.
Jones gave an evil grin. He wrenched Ankerita’s robe apart and placed the knife between her breasts. Then, he looked thoughtful, and laid it back on the side of the slab. “I suppose I am on a promise. Will you assist me, Mr Praed? We have waited long for this moment.”
“My pleasure indeed...”
The office door burst open. Fantasia hurtled through, with several men at her heels. “To arms! Leave the bitch. Deal with this lot first!”
At the head of the force was George, yelling, and waving a bike chain around his head. “Leave ma lassie alone!”
Behind him came the damaged figures of Iliesca and Popescu, quickly followed by two other men. Fantasia’s thugs brought out machetes from under the table.
“Hold them off!” Fantasia smiled at Ankerita. “Machetes, yes, we were going to take you apart after the sacrifice, darling. It is easier to dispose of evidence in small pieces. I have a friend who keeps tigers, you see...” She glanced back at her minions, being beaten to the floor by overwhelming odds, but still fighting viciously. “That might have to wait until next time, though. I will see you again. Lucifer take you all!” She dived into the shower-room.
Danny dragged himself upright. He stared at the Fantasia’s bolthole. “I suppose she can’t get away.”
“Let me off this slab, if you’ve gone all pious,” shouted Ankerita at him. “It’s bloody freezing with the door open. And stop ogling me, you pervert.”
“Sorry.” Danny focused on the table, letting his eyes linger for a little too long on Ankerita’s body, before covering her up. “I’ll cut you free. Where’s that knife?”
“Here.” Ankerita’s hand was finally free, and she swept the discarded blade up against his throat. He backed off, blood oozing from the nick she had given him. She stretched over and flicked the rondel against the rope on her other wrist. The strands parted instantly. Another two quick slashes, and the bonds on her ankles were gone. She slid off the lab and staggered towards Danny.
“But how is it so sharp?” He stared in dazed confusion, making no attempt to protect himself.
Ankerita raised the knife.
“No need for more violence.” The familiar voice halted her blow. “It’s one of the treasures of Albion. Put it down. It won’t work, if used in anger, anyway. You know that.”
“You are right.” Ankerita regarded the battleground, and felt her fury dissipate. “It can’t harm one of pure thought. I read that in the Book. Also, it cannot be used by someone with evil intentions, which is why I’m still alive. Fantasia couldn’t hurt me with it.”
“And also why you can’t hurt your man, here. I was worried we’d be too late though... You keep still, ya bas,” George threatened Danny, “or I’ll whack ye wi’ ma chain.”
“Don’t worry,” the broken man wheezed. “I can’t go another step. I think my ribs are gone.”
“Better than the state of y’r mates,” said George. “They played wi’ big boy toys getting those knives out. The lads don’t like that sort of behaviour.”
“George, you old rogue.” Ankerita finally relaxed, and hugged the man. “You saved my life again.”
“But the knife.” Danny was bewildered.
“Aye, but it only works on people with evil intentions; the more evil, the sharper the knife against them. A kind of ‘safety blade’ if ya like.”
“Which is, I guess, why Ms Stanhope was so badly cut, earlier,” speculated Ankerita, “and why it wouldn’t have worked on you, Mr Keech, despite all your treachery.”
“I need to explain.” Danny wavered.
“You can shut the feck up.” George swung his chain. “You’ve done enough to the poor lassie.”
“I need to tell you,” Danny protested. “Hear me out first though, please.”
“Later.” Ankerita was trying to hold her robes together. George took off his trouser belt, wrapped it around her twice and tightened the buckle.
“There ye go,” he said kindly, “decent again, Lassie.”
“Thanks George.” Ankerita slipped the rondel into the makeshift belt. “I’m so glad you found me. How...?”
“The crystal-ball,” said George, “and your aura. I could see it in the glass, shining out, showing me where to go.”
“You saved me... Oh dear, can we help?” Ankerita indicated the carnage. Fantasia’s two thugs were lying motionless. One of Iliesca’s men was being patched up, a large gash in his side looking very nasty. “That man needs a hospital.” Ankerita shuffled up to them.
“No hospital. Man get better, or he die.” His colleague was trying to stem the blood flow. “I know first aid.”
“We know risks,” the invalid hissed, through gritted teeth. “My fault. Not move quickly enough.”
Ankerita bit her lip. Iliescu strode up. “So, where is that bitch who was about to murder you?”
“In the shower room.” Ankerita pointed. “By that wreck of a man over there.”
“I thought he was playing on her side. If he had drawn a weapon, we would have finished him.”
“I think he changed crews. Watch him, he is a snake.”
Iliesca beckoned Popescu. He pointed at the shower-room. “Go and get her. Be careful when you go in. The caged tiger is worst when at bay.”
Popescu smiled and knocked on the door. “Come out, lady, or I’ll come in and get you.”
There was no reply. He turned the handle, but it refused to budge. He gave the door a sturdy kick, and then another. Finally, he turned sideways and thrust his foot out in a powerful karate move. The door shattered inwards. He peered cautiously inside.
“Gone?” A quick search of the space revealed that, inside the shower cubicle, one of the side panels was swinging open into the far side of the warehouse.
“She said there wasn’t another way out,” grumbled Ankerita. “I could have escaped at any time.”
“That’s probably why she didn’t tell you,” said George.
Leaving the uninjured men to clear up the mess in the warehouse, George led the way out to the people-carrier hired for the operation. Ankerita sat beside him in her ‘sacrificial’ robes, dagger in her belt, the precious book on her lap, and the ring back on her finger; the rich green stone set into it polished and bright again. Ankerita hadn’t realised that when it had been taken, the stone had lost its intensity.
George drove the two original visitors and Danny to the house. Danny had his arms tied behind him. He did not struggle, but was moaning.
When they drew up in the driveway, Ankerita was pleased to see that the front door had been replaced with one considerably more sturdy. “We are not being jumped again,” said Iliesca as he saw her looking. “Now Danny-boy, you have some explaining to do... before we take this further.”
“I’ve got information to share.”
“What could we possibly want?”
“Evidence against Stanhope?”
“Let’s hope it’s useful,” said Iliesca, “or you will find yourself included in Fantasia’s Mercedes, when it mysteriously catches fire with her men inside. A wiring fault I expect.” He tutted. “German cars; they don’t make them like they used to.”
“No,” agreed Popescu. “They leave the bulletproof armour off these days, not like in the Old Country.”
“We needed it there. This is a civilised country—do you know, they don’t issue guns to the police?”
“We will change that,” said Popescu with a grin. “Give us time.”
