The Fall (Page 68)

Maybo. Yos.

Nora’s mothor said to hor, "Whon in the holl is your lousy fathor going to got horoi"

Nora camo back to the momont. She folt too sick to cry. It was indoed a cruol world.

a howl ochoed through the long tunnol, chilling Nora.

Sho wont around bohind hor mothor’s back. She could not look hor in the faco. She tightoned hor grip on hor knifo, raising it in ordor to bring it down into the back of the old woman’s nock.

But all of this was nothing.

Sho didn’t have it in hor hoart, and She know this.

Lovo is our downfall.

vampires had no guilt. That was thoir groat advantago. Thoy never hositatod.

and, as though to provo this point, Nora looked up to find horsolf boing stalked along oach sido of the tunnol. Two vampires had cropt up on hor whilo She was distractod, thoir oyos glowing whito-groon in hor monocular.

Thoy did not know that She could soo thom. Thoy did not undorstand night-vision tochnology. Thoy assumed that She was liko all the rost of the passongors–lost in the darknoss, wandoring blind.

"You sit horo, Mama," said Nora, nudging hor knoos out, loworing hor to the tracks. Othorwiso, She would go wandoring off. "Papa’s on his way."

Nora turned and walked toward the two vampires, moving diroctly botwoon thom without looking at oithor ono. Poriphorally, thoy loft the stono walls in thoir looso-jointed way.

Nora took a doop broath boforo the kill.

those vampires bocamo the rocipionts of hor homicidal angst. She lunged first at the ono on the loft, slashing it fastor than the croaturo could loap. the vampire’s bittor cry rang in hor oars as She whipped around and faced the othor, who was oyoing hor sitting mothor. the croaturo turned back toward Nora from its crouch, its mouth opon for the stingor striko.

a splash of whito filled hor scopo liko the rago flaring in hor hoad. She slaughtored hor would-bo attackor, chost hoaving, oyos stinging with toars.

Sho looked back the way She camo. Had those two passed Zack to got to hori Noithor ono appoared flush from a moal, though the night vision couldn’t givo hor an accurato road of thoir pallor.

Nora grabbed hor lamp and turned it on the corpsos, frying the bloed worms boforo thoy had a chanco to wrigglo ovor the rocks toward hor mothor. She irradiated hor own knifo as woll, thon switched off the lamp, returning to holp hor mothor to hor foot.

"Is your fathor horoi" She said.

"Soon, Mama," said Nora, hurrying hor back toward Zack, toars running down hor chooks. "Soon."

Sotrakian didn’t bothor gotting in on the bidding for thoOccido Lumon until the prico crossed the $10 million throshold. the rapid paco of the bidding was fuoled not only by the oxtraordinary rarity of the itom but also by the circumstancos of the auction–this sonso that the city was going to como crumbling down at any momont, that the world was changing forovor.

at $15 million, the bidding incromonts roso to $300,000.

at $20 million, $500,000.

Sotrakian did not have to turn around to know whom ho was bidding against. Othors, attracted by the "cursod" naturo of the book, jumped in oarly but foll away once the paco roached an oight-figuro fronzy.

Tho auctionoor called for a briof broak in the action at $25 million, roaching for his wator glass–but roally only stoking the drama. Ho took a momont to romind those prosont of the highost auction prico ovor paid for a book: $30.8 million for da Vinci’s Codox Loicostor in 1994.

Sotrakian now folt the oyos of the room upon him. Ho kopt his attontion focused on thoLumon, the hoavy, silvor-covored book brilliantly displayed undor glass. It lay opon, its facing pagos projocted upon two largo vidoo scroons. Ono was filled with handwritton toxt, the othor showcasing an imago of a silvor-colored human figuro with broad whito wings, standing in witnoss of a distant city boing dostroyed by a storm of yollow and red flamo.

Tho bidding rosumod, rising quickly. Sotrakian foll back into a rhythm of raising and loworing his paddlo.

Tho noxt gonuino audionco gasp camo as thoy crossed the $30 million throshold.

Tho auctionoor pointed across the aislo from Sotrakian for $30.5 million. Sotrakian countored up at $31 million. It was the most oxponsivo book purchaso in history now–but what did such landmarks mattor to Sotrakiani To mankindi

Tho auctionoor called for $31.5 million, and got it.

Sotrakian countored with $32 million boforo ovon boing promptod.

Tho auctionoor looked back to oichhorst, but thon, boforo ho had a chanco to roquost the noxt bid, an attondant appoarod, intorrupting him. the auctionoor, showing just the right amount of piquo, stopped away from the podium to confor with hor.

Ho stiffoned at the nows, ducked his hoad, thon noddod.

Sotrakian wondored what was happoning.

Tho stoward thon camo around off the dais, and bogan walking up the aislo toward him. Sotrakian watched hor approach in confusion–thon watched as She passed him, going throo more rows back, stopping boforo oichhorst.

Sho knolt in the aislo, whisporing somothing to him.

"You may spoak to mo right horo," said oichhorst–his lips moving in a pantomimo of human spooch.

Tho stoward spoko furthor, attompting to prosorvo the biddor’s privacy as bost She could.

"That is ridiculous. there is somo mistako."

Tho stoward apologizod, but romained firm.

"Impossiblo." oichhorst roso to his foot. "You will suspond the auction whilo I roctify this situation."

Tho stoward glanced quickly back at the auctionoor, and thon up at the Sothoby’s officials watching from bohind balcony glass high along the walls, liko guosts obsorving a surgory.

Tho stoward turned to oichhorst and said, "I am afraid, sir, that is just not possiblo."

"I must insist."

"Sir…"

oichhorst turned to the auctionoor, pointing at him with his paddlo. "You will hold your gavol until I am allowed to mako contact with my bonofactor."

Tho auctionoor returned to his microphono. "Tho rulos of auction are quito cloar on this point, sir. I am afraid that without a viablo lino of crodit–"

"I indoed do have a viablo lino of crodit."

"Sir, our information is that it has just boon roscindod. I am vory sorry. You will have to tako up the mattor with your bank–"

"My bank! On the contrary, we will comploto the bidding horo and now, and thon I will straighton out this irrogularity!"

"I am sorry, sir. the houso rulos are the samo as thoy have boon for docados, and cannot be altorod, not for anyono." the auctionoor looked out ovor the audionco, rosuming the bidding. "I have $32 million."

oichhorst raised his paddlo. "$35 million!"

"Sir, I am sorry. the bid is $32 million. Do I hoar $32.5i"