Blood Maidens Read Online Free PDF

we all of us hate change .
    Hence, Asher reflected, the dispatch with which Ysidro had parted company with him in Berlin. His own experiences with the master vampires of Paris and Vienna had taught him that they were likely to kill an interloping vampire’s human companion out of hand – either to limit the information about their existence that might be spread abroad, or merely to let the interloper know that no intruders would be tolerated.
    With luck, Ysidro would locate the Master of St Petersburg and square things before the sun rose tomorrow.
    For himself, Asher had his own masters to locate.
    His time in St Petersburg had been too long ago for him to be sure of finding any of his old contacts at the Embassy itself. Given the current state of international affairs, that elegant mansion on the Neva Embankment would be watched, as a matter of routine, by German eyes – and, in any case, after the South African fiasco he was never quite certain what the Embassy boffins would do with any piece of information he gave them. Instead, after a late breakfast of coffee and rolls, he made his way to the rather seedy district north of the canal, where a man allegedly named Hervieu kept a tobacco shop on a side street.
    ‘Good Lord, Asher, it’s never yoursel’!’ the allegedly Swiss proprietor exclaimed, after the only other customer had left and the usual preliminaries of enquiries for Virginia cigarettes had been exchanged and vetted.
    Asher winked at him behind his pince-nez. ‘The years have been hard ones . . .’
    ‘Hard years, my arse,’ retorted Hervieu, whose baptismal name had actually been McAliester. ‘Not so hard, or they’d have made you near as bald as mesel’.’ He ran a hand over his slick pink dome. ‘Here’s you wi’ a head of hair a schoolboy would envy! I heard ye’d quit the Firm.’
    Asher looked him straight in the eye. ‘You heard correctly,’ he replied, putting great significance into his tone. ‘I have had nothing further to do with Whitehall, nor do I wish to.’
    ‘Ye’ve come to Petersburg for your health, then?’
    ‘I have.’
    ‘Aye, well, winter in the Arctic circle’s a good time for that. Where you staying?’
    ‘You can leave a message for me at Phlekov’s.’ Anyone who worked St Petersburg quickly learned that half the stationers’, cafés, and news-stands in the city were operated by petty bourgeoisie who for a few kopecks would act as mail drops for the Devil. Phlekov’s on the Voznesensky Prospect was far enough from the Imperatrice Catherine to give Asher a good chance of observing if he’d picked up a follower. But even the Germans hadn’t the money to keep an eye on every letter drop in the city. ‘I’ve told them my name is Weber.’
    Hervieu didn’t trouble to ask what name he’d told his landlords. He’d been in the Department a long time.
    ‘Who’s in charge at the Embassy?’ Asher asked, and for a few minutes he slipped comfortably back into the old shorthand: what’s the new chief like? Who have the Germans got in town these days? Are the Russians any more efficient than they were back in ’94? ( What a hope! ) Secret police as much a nuisance as ever? Is a Revolution still being plotted, or did that fizzle out when they got a Duma? He dared not ask after German scientists – God knew what ham-fisted enquiries would be launched by the Department or what the results would be – but it was good at least to check the territory.
    ‘What do things look like from London?’ the tobacconist asked in return. ‘I get word from the Embassy, but wi’ censorship, an’ all the diplomats bound and determined not to speak a word agin’ the Old Country, I’ve always got it at the back of my mind to wonder if I’m bein’ lied to.’
    ‘They’re idiots,’ said Asher harshly. ‘And you are being lied to. We all are. Britain builds a new class of battleships, so Germany’s building them too. Germany gets nine-inch guns, so France must have