Bloody Right. Georgia Evans

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Chapter Nineteen

      Chapter Twenty

      Chapter Twenty-One

      Chapter Twenty-Two

      Chapter Twenty-Three

      Chapter Twenty-Four

      Chapter Twenty-Five

      Chapter Twenty-Six

      Chapter Twenty-Seven

      Chapter Twenty-Eight

      Chapter Twenty-Nine

      Chapter Thirty

      Chapter Thirty-One

      Chapter Thirty-Two

      Chapter Thirty-Three

      Chapter Thirty-Four

      Chapter Thirty-Five

      Chapter Thirty-Six

      Chapter Thirty-Seven

      Chapter Thirty-Eight

      Chapter Thirty-Nine

      Chapter Forty

      Chapter Forty-One

      Chapter Forty-Two

      Chapter Forty-Three

      Chapter Forty-Four

      Chapter Forty-Five

      Chapter One

      Guildford, November 1940

      “Something the matter?” Paul Schmidt asked Weiss, looking across his unheated sitting room.

      Something the matter? Hans Weiss wanted to spit. He’d say there was. Their masters in Germany were baying for results and blood—he gave a twisted smile at that last thought—and here he was, facing the hardest assignment they’d been given, with the last and feeblest member of their cohort as his only help.

      The nagging knowledge that someone or something in the area had the power to annihilate Vampires didn’t add anything but another layer of anxiety to his prospects.

      The world was wrong. He’d been the next thing to invincible for five centuries and now he was reduced to serving his petty masters in Adlerroost and watching his fellow Vampires disappear among the accursed peasants. “We need to take action,” he said.

      “I wouldn’t argue with that,” Schmidt replied, “but what? Do we have orders?”

      “We do.”

      Schmidt raised a blond eyebrow. “And?”

      “Our masters are changing their plans and our mission.” Weiss paused, as if considering the impermanence of mortals. “With the onset of winter, the invasion is postponed until the spring.”

      Schmidt nodded. He’d worked that much out for himself. “So what do they ask of us now? To keep on sowing discontent and unease?”

      “That’s a given but, naturally, there is more. The High Command have decided the best way to disable this wretched and stubborn country is to remove the leader.”

      “Kill the king? That’s regicide!”

      Weiss permitted himself a little smile. “Indeed it is, but the King here counts for nothing. He is a figurehead, a tool for propaganda. They mean the leader: the one who has convinced these Inselaffen, these puny island monkeys, that they are of the fabric of heroes, that their pathetic armed forces will prevail against the might of the entire German war machine, and getting bombed out of their homes is nothing more than a mere inconvenience.”

      “Gott!” Schmidt leaned forward, his eyes wide. “You mean Churchill?”

      “Yes,” Weiss replied with a nod. “We are to kill Churchill.” And sat back in the lumpy armchair to enjoy Schmidt’s surprise.

      He was not disappointed.

      Consternation, incredulity, utter amazement, and finally stunned disbelief played across the younger Vampire’s face. “They are insane!” he said at last, shaking his head.

      Weiss inclined his head. “Think it would be wise to share that with our masters? Would the Führer welcome your candid opinion? There are how many of your blood kindred in their hands?”

      Frustration blocked out Schmidt’s other emotions. “It is close to impossible, even for us,” he replied, shaking his head again. “He’ll be protected, surrounded by police—or the army—at all times.”

      “I note you said ‘close to impossible,’ not impossible,” Weiss replied. “Nothing is truly impossible.” Not even learning who or what in that village could destroy a Vampire. “It will not be easy, but it is possible. Attacking in London would be reckless and suicidal. Instead, we will strike when he is less defended.”

      “And that will be when?”

      Weiss paused. Pathetic really, almost mortal to go for effect, but since he could…“Soon. He frequently spends weekends in the country, at Wharton Lacey with his loyal friends, Sir James and Lady Gregory.”

      Schmidt’s jaw dropped in a highly gratifying manner. “The old fool who commands the local Home Guard?”

      “The same, although ‘old fool’ might be less than accurate. But fool or not, he is trusted. He and Churchill were at school together. The prime minister takes his secretary and a couple of policemen for protection. Sometimes cabinet ministers and representatives of friendly nations join him.”

      “And you know this how?”

      Skepticism was to be expected. This had not been part of