Aubrey had about the same expression on his face as I imagined I had on mine. “What time is it in Moscow?”
I checked my watch. “It’s three hours ahead of here, so early evening.”
He relaxed slightly. “So it’s getting dark?”
“Well, it’s summer so not quite yet, but it’s not blazing sunshine.”
He sighed in relief. I shook my head. “You’d think that having stayed out of the sun for two hundred years, you’d be happy to get to spend some time in it.”
“Old habits die hard.”
I thought of the crack in the glass that I’d managed to put into the bookshop’s front door, and my perennially bad temper. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Who’s going first?” Alex looked from one of us to the other.
Better get it over and done with, I figured. “Fine. I will.”
“What’s wrong with her?” asked Aubrey.
Alex smirked. “You’ll see.”
“I am still fucking here, you know.”
“We’ll see you on the other side.”
“Can’t wait,” I grunted, then stepped through, feeling the familiar tug through my body and inevitable nausea rise up into my stomach.
Almost immediately, I fell forward onto my hands and knees and began retching. I knew I’d landed somewhere quiet and dark, but all I could really focus on was the continual lurching of my stomach as I heaved and heaved. There was a snap as Aubrey came through, and I heard him say something over me, but it barely registered. I retched again, feeling a cold sweat break out across my forehead. Vomit spewed out, then almost immediately another wave of nausea rippled through my entire body.
When I was finally done, I staggered to my feet. “Fucking hell,” I swore. That was about the worst transition I’d ever experienced. Sodding Alex. We should have gotten a more experienced mage from somewhere to open the portal. Clearly it was his wavering skill that had caused me to be even more ill than I normally was.
“Damn,” Aubrey commented. “Is that supposed to happen? Because I feel fine.”
“Piss off.”
I peered at him through the gloom, and realised Alex had also materialised through and was muttering something to himself.
“Where are we?”
“Something went wrong. This wasn’t where I’d been planning to emerge,” he said, distracted.
Great. “And where is here?”
“I can’t tell. Some kind of…”
“Cupboard,” Aubrey finished for him. “At least it’s dark.”
I reached out in both directions with my hands, unable to see much but feeling my fingers scraped against walls on either side. I traced my hand slong the rough surface, suddenly yelping as I touched something cold and clammy.
“What? What is it?” Panic was clearly starting to set in for the mage.
“It’s okay. Aubrey’s right, we’re in some kind of cupboard. I think I just touched a mop.”
“This is exciting! We could be anywhere. The mystery of it all is thrilling.”
I wasn’t sure which irritated me more: Alex’s fear, or Aubrey’s enthusiasm. I decided that, either way, I had an intense dislike of small dark places. “Come on. Let’s find the sodding door and get out of here.”
All of us started fumbling around. It felt like an age before Alex suddenly called out that he’d found it. He rattled a doorknob.
“It’s locked - we’re trapped.”
“Move out of the way,” I instructed, then maneuvered myself around. I pulled on the knob then, realising he was right, backed away slightly and took a breath. Then I lunged forward with a high kick, and the door sprang open.
The three of us piled out, blinking. Soft music was playing, and there appeared to be an escalator leading down to somewhere just ahead of us. There was also a small raised area upon which stood three well-dressed mannequins. Before I could stop him, Aubrey had leapt forward and started attacking one of them, hitting it with his fists and knocking it to the ground. Then he spun around, apparently ready for the next one.
“Tell us who you are!” he shouted.
“Er, Aubrey?”
“What?” He looked down at his fallen ‘victim’. “Oh. Sorry, I thought that was a person. It looked like they were holding a sword and were about to attack.”
“That’s an umbrella.”
He coughed. “I see that now. Where are we?”
“It looks like some kind of department store, I think. Are we even in Russia, Alex?”
“We must be,” he muttered.
I strode over to the escalator and stepped on. “Well, let’s find out.”
The pair of them followed me. As we travelled down to what was apparently the ground floor, filled as it was with all manner of perfumes and make-up accoutrements, I spotted an advertisement with Cyrillic lettering hanging over to the right and pointed it out.
“See? I knew I could do it,” Alex said, suddenly filled with renewed confidence.
“Yeah, okay. Good work, Alex. The trouble is,” I fretted, “Russia is big fucking country. We could really still be anywhere.”
“Allow me,” drawled Aubrey, as we reached the bottom of the escalator. I watched, rather impressed, as he stepped confidently over to a well-dressed woman and introduced himself. He took her hand and kissed it. The object of his attentions was obviously flustered, and remarkably flattered, judging by the way she smiled and giggled.
“You are simply beautiful, madam,” he intoned. “As are all the women of this wonderful city. It is a true pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
She bit her lip.
“Tell me, because I’m not from this country as you can probably tell, but how do you pronounce the name of this great town?”
“Moskva,” she said breathlessly.
He dropped her hand as if it was a hot rock and returned to us, leaving her staring after him, open-mouthed.
“Yeah, we’re in Moscow. Let’s get a taxi to this bar.” He caught my look. “What? I was a vampire, remember? I did have some skills.”
“That kind of thing really works?”
He gestured behind him. “As you see.” Then he grinned.
“I think I just threw up in my mouth.”
“I’m amazed you have anything left inside you to throw up. Just make sure you don’t breathe on me.” He wrinkled his nose.
Hmm. He seemed to be getting over his vampire-to-human adjustment period. He was certainly a lot less emotional than he used to be.
“Oh my God,” he suddenly cried out.
Alarmed, I followed his gaze. “What?”
“Look at that scarf.” He almost ran over and began stroking a silk black scrap of fabric. “Isn’t it gorgeous?” His eyes welled up. “It’s almost hard to believe that something this stunning could exist.” He sniffed.
Okay. He still had some way to go yet. I rolled my eyes and walked out to hail a taxi.
Chapter Fourteen
The air felt different from London. It was about the same temperature, but there was a smoky quality to it, somehow making the atmosphere even more claustrophobic than normal. The road in front was remarkably wide with intricately designed buildings on either side that included uniformly arched windows and high rooftops. I felt a sudden longing for the clean crispness of the open countryside and wondered if I’d be doomed to spend the rest of my life in cities.
I couldn’t see anything remotely resembling a taxi, despite the heavy traffic, and I realised also that our unconventional mode of travel had meant we’d not managed to come across any form of money-changers. With no rubles, there would be no way to pay.
A battered boxy car pulled up alongside the curb and the driver wound down the window with what seemed like extraordinary effort. His face peered out, lined and weathered.
“Taxi?”
Alex appeared by my shoulder. “How much?”
A wide grin spread across the driver’s face. “Foreigner? Special price. Where you go?”
“We don’t have any money,” I hissed at the mage.
“Chillax,” he drawled back. “I’ve got it covered.”
I shot him a suspicious look. At least he had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. “I changed money this morning.”
“What if I’d refused to come?”
He shrugged. “Then I’d have changed it back. Or come myself.”
I raised my eyebrows slightly at that.
“What?” he said. “It’s not like there’ll be any fighting involved.”
I hoped he was right. I grunted and turned my attention back to the driver. Aubrey, apparently managing to have torn himself away from the seductive delights of the department store, moved forward then abruptly stopped.
“I’m not getting in that. Look at it. It’s covered in rust! It’ll probably fall apart as soon as we get in. I’ve got to take care myself now that I’m human, you know.”
“This car is good,” insisted the driver, banging the side of it with his arm. “Russian make. Very safe. Where you go?”
“Presny,” said Alex.
“It’s not even a taxi!” Aubrey cried. “It’s just a man with a car!”
“Your friend very scared,” the driver interjected, with an air of what could only be described as glee. “Is okay. I am bombily.” At our blank faces, he explained. “Private taxi driver. I take you to Presny for only thousand rubles.”
I gazed doubtfully at him. I had no idea how much that actually was, but it sounded a lot.
“Done!”
“Alex, we’re supposed to negotiate!”
“Who’s doing the paying here?”
Grumbling, I walked over to the back door and jerked the handle to open it. It didn’t budge so I tried again. Goddamnit. The driver opened his door and ambled around while I got out of his way. He used his left hand to pull down the handle while propping his right foot up on the side of the car for traction. The door fell open with an ominous creak. Flakes of paint flew off in every direction.