Book 1 - The Man With the Golden Torc by Simon R. Green Page B

war," I said slowly, "our enemies
would just band together for protection against a common threat, and we’d be
vastly outnumbered. We’ve survived as long as we have only because we understand
the virtues of divide and conquer."
    Jacob shrugged. "Youngsters today; no patience. No taking the
long view. It’s all instant gratification now. I blame MTV and video games. So
far, older and wiser heads in the family are keeping the new faction firmly in
its place, but everyone’s talking about it…Also, your cousin William’s been
stirring things, just so he can get plenty of good footage for the documentary
he’s been making about the family. Though God alone knows who he thinks is going
to see it. Could be a big hit, mind, with all those people who watched The
Osbournes. Meet the Droods: an even more dysfunctional family, only far more
dangerous…
    "The Matriarch’s stepped up security around the Hall. Again. You
probably noticed the extra measures on your way in. Of course, they can’t keep
me out. It’s hard to keep secrets from the dead. We’re natural voyeurs. Shall we
take a look at what our beloved leader is up to at the moment?"
    He snapped his fingers at the empty television set before him,
and the old episode of Dark Shadows that had been running with the sound off was
replaced by an impressively sharp image of the family Matriarch in her study,
talking with her husband, Alistair. He was pacing up and down, looking
distinctly worried, while she sat straight-backed in her chair, all icy calm and
dignity.
    "He’ll be here soon," said Alistair. "What are we going to tell
him?"
    "We’ll tell him what he needs to know, and no more," said the
Matriarch. "That’s always been the family way."
    "But if he even suspects…"
    "He won’t."
    "We could tell him the truth." Alistair stopped pacing and
looked directly at the Matriarch. "We could appeal to his better nature. To his
duty, to his love of the family…"
    The Matriarch sniffed loudly. "Don’t be a fool. He’s far too
dangerous. I have determined what needs to be done, and that’s all there is to
it. I have always understood what’s best for the family. Wait…Someone’s
listening in! Is that you, Jacob?"
    She turned abruptly and stared right out of the screen at us.
Jacob gestured quickly and the picture disappeared, replaced by an old episode
of The Addams Family.
    "Told you she’d stepped up security," said Jacob. "What do you
suppose that was all about?"
    "I don’t know," I said. "But I don’t like the sound of it."
    "Something’s going on," Jacob said darkly. "Something the
Matriarch and her precious inner circle don’t want the rank and file to know
about. There’s something in the air…Something Big is coming. I can feel it,
gathering like stormclouds in the future. And when it finally breaks, it’s going
to be a monster…There have been several direct attacks on the Hall just
recently."
    "Hold it," I said. "Attacks? No one’s told me anything about any
attacks. What kind of attacks?"
    "Powerful ones." Jacob stirred uncomfortably in his chair. "Even
I didn’t see them coming, and that’s not like me. Nothing got through, of
course, but just the fact that someone or something felt confident enough to
launch a direct attack on where we live speaks volumes. In my day, no one would
have dared. We’d have tracked them down, ripped their souls out, and nailed them
to our outer walls. But it’s all politics now; agreements and pacts and truces.
The family isn’t what it was…I don’t know why they’ve called you back, Eddie,
but it sure as hell isn’t to pin a medal on your chest. Watch your back, lad."
    "Always," I said. "Anything I can do for you, Jacob?"
    He leered at me in a frankly unsettling way. "If that headless
nun is still haunting the north wing, tell her to get her ectoplasmic arse down
here, and I’ll teach her a whole new way to manifest."
    "But…she hasn’t got a