bl.necroscope2-第78章

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　Then；　about　4。00　P。M。；　suddenly　Yulian　was　aware　of　a　weird　psychic　stillness；　the　mental　lull　before　the　storm。　He　strained　his　vampire　senses　to…　their　fullest　extent　and　could　detect。。。　nothing！　The　watchers　had　screened　their　minds；　so　that　not　even　a　trace　of　their　thoughts　their　intentions　could　escape。　In　so　doing　they　gave　away　their　final　secret；　they　told　Yulian　the　time　they　had　planned　for　his　death。
　It　was　to　be　now；　within　the　hour；　and　the　light　only　just　beginning　to　fade　as　the　sun　lowered　itself　towards　the　horizon。
　Yulian　put　fear　aside。　He　was　Wamphyri！　These　men　had　powers；　yes；　and　they　were　strong。　But　he　had　powers　too。　And　he　might　yet　prove　to　be　stronger。
　He　went　down　into　the　cellars　and　spoke　to　Vlad：
　You've　been　faithful　to　me　as　only　a　dog　can　be；　he　said；　facing　the　great　beast；　their　yellow　eyes　locked；　but　you　are　more　than　a　dog。　Those　men　out　there　might　suspect　that；　and　they　might　not。　Whichever；　when　they　e；　you　go　out　first　to　meet　them。　Give　no　quarter。　if　you　survive；　seek　me　out。　。
　And　then　he　〃spoke〃　to　the　Other；　that　loathsome　extrusion　of　himself。　It　was　the　implanting　of　suggestions　in　a　blank　space；　the　imprinting　of　an　idea　upon　a　void；　the　burning　of　a　brand　into　a　beast's　hide。　Floor　flags　buckled　in　one　dark　corner；　the　ground　underfoot　shifted　and　dust　fell　in　rills　from　the　low　vaulting。　That　was　all。　Perhaps　it　had　understood；　and　perhaps　not　。
　Finally　Yulian　returned　to　his　room。　He　changed　his　clothes；　put　on　a　neutral　grey　track…suit　and　shoved　his　wide…brimmed　hat　into　the　waistband。　He　neatly　folded　a　suit　of　clothes　into　a　small　travelling　case；　along　with　a　wallet　containing　a　good　deal　of　money　in　large　notes。　That　was　that；　he　needed　nothing　more。
　Then；　as　the　minutes　ticked　by；　he　sat　down；　closed　his　eyes　and　pitted　his　own　dark　nature　against　the　great　Mother　Nature　herself　in　one　final　test　of　his　now　mature　vampire　powers。　He　willed　a　mist；　called　up　a　wreathing　white　screen　from　the　earth　and　the　streams　and　the　woods；　a　clinging　fog　down　from　the　hillsides。
　The　watchers；　tense　now　and　taut　as　the　strings　of　their　crossbows；　scarcely　noticed　the　sun　slipping　behind　the　clouds　and　the　ground　mist　creeping　at　their　ankles；　as　a　man；　their　attention　was　riveted　on　the　house。
　And　time　moved　inexorably　towards　the　appointed　hour　。
　
　I　Darcy　Clarke　drove　furiously　north。　He　had　cursed　aloud　until　his　throat　was　raw；。　and　then　silently　until　his　cursing　had　e　down　to　one　four…letter　word　repeated　over　and　ver　again　in　his　fuming　mind。　What　his　fury　amounted　to　was　this：　he　wouldn't　be　in　on　the　kill。　He　was　out　of　the　attack　on　Harkley。　Now；　instead；　he　was　to　be　minder　in…chief　to　a。。。　a　tiny　infant！
　Clarke　was　well　aware　of　the　importance　of　his　new　task　and　understood　the　purpose　of　it：　with　his　talent　it　is　unlikely　that　any　harm　would　e　to　him。　And　so；　if　he　was　shielding　the　young　Harry　Keogh；　the　baby　should　likewise　be　safe。　But　to　Darcy's　way　of　thinking；　prevention　was　better　than　cure。　Stop　Bodescu　dead　at　Harkley　House；　and　you　wouldn't　have　to　worry　about　the　baby　at　all。　And　if　he；　Darcy　Clarke；　was　at　Harkley…if　only　he　was　there　then　guarantee　Bodescu　would　be　stopped！
　But　he　wasn't　there；　he　was　here；　driving　north　for　that　godforsaken　hole　Hartlepool。
　On　the　other　hand；　he　knew　that　every　single　man　of　them　back　there　was　equally　dedicated　to　Bodescu's　destruction。　Which　helped　a　little。
　Clarke　had　got　back　to　Paignton　before　6。00　A。M。　and　Roberts　had　ordered　him　straight　into　bed。　Later；　he　said；　he　would　have　a　big　job　for　him　and　wanted　him　to　get　at　least　six　hours'　sleep。　Finally　Clarke　had　dozed　off；　and　though　he'd　feared　the　very　worst　dreams　none　had　e。　At　noon　Roberts　had　shaken　him　awake；　told　him　what　his　new　job　was。　Since　when　Clarke　had　been　driving；　and　cursing。
　He　had　joined　the　M1　at　Leicester；　then　picked　up　the　A19　at　Thirsk。　He　was　now　something　less　than　an　hour　from　his　destination；　and　the　time　was　（he　glanced　at　his　watch）…4。50P。M。
　Clarke　stopped　cursing。　God！　What　would　it　be　like　right　now；　down　there？
　〃Where　the　hell　did　this　mist　spring　from？〃　Trevor　Jordan　shivered；　turning　up　the　collar　of　his　coat。　〃Hell；　it　was　a　nice　day；　from　the　weather　point　of　view；　anyway。〃　For　all　his　vehemence；　Jordan　had　spoken　in　a　whisper。
　All　of　the　INTESP　agents；　at　their　various　stations　around　Harkley　House；　had　been　speaking　in　whispers　for　the　last　twenty　minutes。　At　4。30；　working　to　Roberts's　instructions；　they'd　formed　pairs…which　was　as　well；　for　the　mist　had　thickened　up　and　started　to　threaten　their　individual　security。　It　felt　nice　to　have　someone　really　close　to　you。
　Jordan's　〃buddy〃　in　the　system　was　Ken　Layard　the　locator。　He　was　shivering；　too；　despite　the　fact　that　he　carried　seventy…eight　pounds　of　Brissom　Mark　III　flame…thrower　on　his　back。　〃I'm　not　sure；〃　he　finally　answered　Jordan's　question；　〃but　I　think　it's　from　him。〃　He　nodded　towards　the　house　where　it　stood　swathed　in　mist。
　They　were　just　inside　the　north　wall；　at　a　place　where　they'd　found　a　gap　in　the　stonework。　Just　a　minute　ago；　at　4。50；　they'd　checked　their　watches　and　squeezed　through；　and　Jordan　had　helped　Layard　into　his　asbestos　leggings　and　jacket。　Then　they'd　strapped　the　tank　on　his　back　and　he'd　checked　the　valve　on　the　hose　and　trigger　mechanism。　With　the　valve　open；　all　he　had　to　do　was　squeeze　the　trigger　and　he　could　conjure　up　an　inferno。　And　he　fully　intended　to。
　〃Him？〃　Jordan　frowned。　He　looked　around　at　the　mist。　It　crept　everywhere。　From　here　the　rear　wall　up　the　hillside　was　invisible；　likewise　the　wall　fronting　onto　the　road。　Harvey　Newton　and　Simon　Gower　would　be　making　their　way　down　from　the　hill；　Ben　Trask　and　Guy　Roberts　ing　up　the　drive　from　the　gate。　They　would　all　converge　on　the　house　together；　at　5。00　P。M。　sharp。　〃Who　do　you　mean；　〃him〃？　Bodescu？〃　Jordan　led　the　way　through　shrubbery　towards　the　dimly　looming　mass　of　the　house。。
　〃Bodescu；　yes；〃　Layard　answered。　〃I'm　a　locator；remember？　It's　my　thing。〃
　What's　that　got　to　do　with　the　mist？〃　Jordan's　nerves　were　starting　to　jump。　He　was　a　telepath　of　uncertainkill；　but　Roberts　had　warned　him　not　to　try　it　on　Bodescu　and　certainly　not　at　this　crucial　stage　of　play。
　〃When　I　try　to　find　him　in　my　mind's　eye；〃　Layard　attempted　to　explain；　〃inside　the　house　there；　I　can't　zero　in　on　him。　It's　as　if　he　were　part　of　the　mist。　That's　why　I　think　he's　somehow　behind　it。　I　sense　him　as　a　huge　amorphous　cloud　of　fog！〃
　〃Jesus！〃　Jordan　whispered；　shivering　again。　In　utter；　eerie　silence　they　moved　towards　the　small　outbuilding；　whose　open　door　led　down　to　the　cellars。
　
　Simon　Gower　and　Harvey　Newton　approached　the　house　from　the　gently　sloping　field　of　shrubs　at　its　rear。　There　wasn't　too　much　cover　so　the　mist　was　a　boon　to　them。　So　they　thought。　Newton　was　a　telepath；　called　down　from　London　along　with　Ben　Trask　as　reinforcements。　Newton　and　Trask　weren't　quite　as　au　fait　with　the　situation　as　the　rest；　which　was　why　they'd　been　split　up。
　〃What　a　team　we　make；　eh？〃　said　Newton　nervously　as　the　ground　levelled　out　and　the　mist　billowed　up　more　yet。　〃You　with　that　bloody　great　torch　on　your　back　and　me　with　a　crossbow？　You　know；　if　this　stake…out　is　a　dud；　we're　going　to　look　awfully　…〃
　〃God！〃　Gower　cut　him　short；　dropped　to　one　knee　and　worked　furiously　at　the　valve　on　his　hose。
　〃What？〃　Newton　gave　a　massive　start；　glared　all　about；　held　his　loaded　crossbow　out　in　front　of　him　like　a　shield。　〃What？〃　He　couldn't　see　anything；　but　he　knew　Gower's　talent　lay　in　reading　the　future…especially　the　immediate　future！
　〃It's　ing！〃　Gower　no　longer　whispered。　In　fact；　he　was　shouting。　〃It's　ing…NOW！〃
　At　the　front　of　the　house；　where　Guy　Roberts　and　Ben　Trask　pulled　up　in　Roberts's　truck；　Gower's　shouting　wasn't　heard　over　the　throbbing　of　the　vehicle's　engine。
　But　on　the　north…facing　side　of　the　house　it　was。　Trevor　Jordan　instinctively　crouched　down；　then　began　to　run　at　an　angle　towards　the　rear　of　the　building。　Ken　Layard；　hampered　by　his　flame…thrower　load；　was　slower　off　the　mark。
　Layard；　stumbling　through　damp　shrubbery；　saw　Jordan's　figure　swallowed　into　a　rolling　bank　of　mist　where　he　ran　past　the