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There is also a formidable police presence, which isn’t all that surprising. A group of teens no older than us are standing in a huddle and Aiden takes the lead as we walk towards them.
‘Hey,’ he says, casually, nodding at everyone in greeting. ‘What happened? We heard about the party, we get here and this is what we find.’
‘Bro, it’s a mess.’ One boy shakes his head. He’s got eyeliner smeared under his eyes and too much glitter down the side of his face. He leans against a girl, her arms wrapped around his waist. Looking at the group, I realize they all look shellshocked. ‘We got here about an hour before the police showed up. Everything was going so well and we were all just partying hard.’
‘How did the cops even know it was going on? What happened?’ Aiden’s voice held just enough annoyance to trigger a response.
‘Good question,’ Eyeliner Boy says, hugging the girl closer. ‘People were being stupid, I guess.’
‘Yeah.’ One of the other boys pipes up as he inhales smoke from his cigarette. ‘We were supposed to be casual about this, not turn up in big groups.’
The girl, dainty but fierce in leather and lace, snorts her annoyance. ‘It’s what alerted the cops, for sure.’
‘So, what? They busted the rave?’ I shake my head when the smoker offers me his cigarette. ‘Did someone get hurt?’
‘Yeah.’ Cigarette Boy scowls through the smoke, jerking his chin to where the response vehicles are parked, lights swirling. ‘One kid OD’d and some others were taken to hospital.’
‘So, I guess we head back to the West End, then,’ the girl says. ‘Tonight sucks.’
‘I know, babe, I’m sorry.’ Eyeliner Boy hugs her and kisses the top of her messy head. ‘We should have stayed at the other club.’
‘Why are there so many cops here?’ Dante asks, moving forward and staring out over the crowd.
‘There were guys in there giving drugs away for free. And obviously people were taking it. When were you last at an illegal rave? Everything goes.’
Dante snorts. ‘Yeah, believe me, I know.’ He scratches his jaw where the stubble’s taken over. ‘Do you guys know what they were dealing? Is it still going around?’
And somehow the way he lowers his voice makes all of us conspirators. I don’t know how he does it but we all move a little closer to one another and share a look.
‘I’m asking for a friend, of course.’ Dante grins at them in a way that leaves no doubt as to his real intentions. ‘He told me about this stuff that he took a few weeks ago. Made him see bloody faeries.’
‘No, mate. I have no idea what the stuff was – but there were at least three guys handing out baggies.’ Eyeliner Boy shoots a look at his watch. ‘We’re outta here. We’re heading back to Game in Soho if you guys want to tag along? We’ve got space in the van.’
‘No, we’re good, cheers.’ Aiden gestures behind us. ‘We drove too, anyway. Faster than the bus.’
‘Too straight, mate. Have a good night.’
We say our farewells and they head away from the milling crowd.
‘Let’s keep on checking. If all else fails I’ll pull the Spook ID out and talk to some of the police,’ suggests Dante. By mutual agreement we arrange to meet back at the car in about an hour and split up.
I pull my jacket closer and lift the collar because it’s become really cold out. I attach myself to various groups and chat to them about what happened in the club. And slowly but surely a picture starts to form. Too many people turned up for the rave – and with only one entrance and one exit, the crowd became too obvious for the local constabulary to ignore. Reinforcements were called in and people started panicking when the cops turned up. Some even started throwing things out of the windows and a few club-goers outside actually started attacking police vehicles. Things got messy when one of the kids the police had cornered, obviously high, went into some kind of violent fit. The paramedics reached him, but were too late to help and he died there. Everyone else who’d obviously been under the influence was carted off en masse to a local hospital. And the police started taking statements and arresting those they considered suspicious or who already had arrest records.
I find it strange that so many people stayed after the rave had so obviously been shut down. But, as one girl told me, most people had no real way to get home once public transport had pretty much stopped running, and the buses weren’t reliable at all. They’d just wait until the early-morning train services started.
I’m the last one to arrive back at the car and I gratefully accept a styrofoam cup of something black and bitter from Aiden, before he sinks into the back of the Cayenne. The interior of the car is quiet for a few seconds before Dante speaks.
‘This is a mess.’
‘I know,’ I sigh, looking out at the crowd. ‘This is the kind of place where we would’ve hung out before, Aide. This could’ve been us.’
‘We know better, Kit.’
‘No, she’s right.’ Dante looks at me, then back to Aiden. ‘This could’ve been me three years ago. The crap I did.’ His voice trails off. ‘We’ve got to stop people distributing this stuff. More are going to die.’
Aiden watches a girl in a pair of stiletto heels walk past, leaning heavily on a friend. ‘I found out which hospital took in the others kids. I managed to talk to one of the bouncers.’
‘Did he know who was distributing the drugs?’
‘He’s seen them before. He knows the one guy well.’ He twists in his seat to look at me. ‘We met him when we did the raid with Strachan on the warehouse in Catford. Our good friend Marko.’
‘That means the Jericho Gang is still involved.’ I remember the map my cousin Kyle showed me once, and the reach of the Jericho Gang’s territory. ‘Okay, let’s go to the hospital.’
As we drive, I fill Dante in on the raid we’d pulled off with Strachan, how we thought we’d shut down one of the main Fae Glow distributors in the south-east. But if Marko is still involved, maybe he has a new supplier. The University Hospital is less than a ten-minute drive from the site of the rave, so it feels as if we’re parking far too soon with no real plan as to how to get to the kids who’ve been brought in.
‘How do we do this?’ I ask Dante.
‘We lie, and cheat, and steal,’ he says, smiling.
While Aiden asks after the kids at the A&E reception, Dante and I head down one of the corridors. I’m not fond of hospitals at all. There’s something about the sterile smell of them that makes me feel unwell. Dante looks pale in the bad lighting overhead and there’s a damp sheen of perspiration on his forehead. We slow our pace when a nurse exits a staff-only room and hurries away from us. Dante moves hastily to catch the door before it slams shut all the way. He pulls out a slender pocket knife and pushes it into the lock, jimmying it so that it closes but doesn’t lock. Then he pulls me into the dark room and closes the door behind us. We stay quiet for a few seconds, listening to the nurse’s footfalls fade away. I fumble for the switch and the storage room behind us is lit up.
‘Jackpot,’ he mutters and investigates the stacked shelves. He’s soon enough passing me back a neat little stack of clothes. ‘These should fit.’
I shake out the nurse’s tunic and trousers and ask, ‘What about you?’ in a low voice. ‘You’d better be changing too.’
He holds up a dark blue tunic and trousers. ‘Get changed. You better not peek.’
I glare my indignation at him and he chuckles. The room is cold and I change quickly into the tunic and trousers.
When we’re both in our disguises and we’ve neatly stacked our clothes so they’re easy to grab on our way out, Dante also takes an official-looking clipboard and pen from a shelf and we leave the small room.
My phone vibrates and there’s a message from Aiden: Can’t get past main desk. A girl under light sedation on 2nd floor. Overheard nurse mention.
I reply with a quick Okay we’re in, sliding the phone back into the elasticated waistband of my trousers.
Walking side-by-side with Dante, I’m amazed that we don’t attract more looks. But it just goes to show how people don’t pay attention if you look as if you fit. Then I spot a pass card on an unmanned nurse’s station and quickly swipe it and clip it to my tunic. Soon we’ve on the second floor without anyone interrupting. We slow our pace just past an empty trolley because we see a police officer stationed outside a door. Without a moment’s hesitation I walk towards the officer and flash my pass card. He glances at it, then at me, dismissing me as staff and therefore not a threat before standing aside and I’m in.
There’s a girl lying on the bed hooked up to various beeping monitors, and I locate her folder of medical notes while keeping a wary eye on her.
I quickly take photos of her paperwork using my phone and don’t even try to make sense of the medical jargon. But a few words stand out.
Hallucinations
Possible drug intake to include MDMA/LSD variant
Patient is a danger to herself and restraints have been used
I glance at the girl and notice the fabric straps tying her to the bed by her wrists and ankles. I make sure I stay far away from the equipment, in case my magic manages to interfere with the machines. I don’t want to trigger any alarms in doing so but I know my time is limited. Looking down at the girl makes my heart clench in my chest. She’s my age but she somehow looks both younger and older. Her cheeks are sunken and there are dark circles beneath her eyes.
‘Jane?’ I whisper, leaning close. ‘Can you hear me?’
For a second there’s no response but then her eyelids flutter open and she stares fuzzily around the room.
‘Who … ?’ Her voice sounds scratchy and I find a plastic cup with a straw by the side of the bed. I hold it for her so she can take a few sips. ‘Thanks,’ she manages. ‘Who’re you?’
‘I’m here to find out who sold you the stuff you took tonight.’
‘Din’ sell it. Free.’
‘Jane. We’re trying to stop these guys. Someone died tonight.’
She sighs a little, her eyes dull, pulling desolately on the restraints on her arm. ‘Where am I?’
‘In hospital. You got sick at the rave. An ambulance brought you here.’
‘Parents know?’
‘I would assume so. You’re a minor so they would’ve called your parents or your guardian, at least.’
She breathes a swearword and her eyes drift shut. ‘Raves are fun,’ she whispers, ‘but tonight wasn’t.’ She coughs and I give her another sip of water.
‘Jane. What were the drugs you took?’
‘Glow. Love that stuff. It makes me see things, pretty things.’
‘You’ve taken it before?’
‘Yes. At other raves.’
‘Are they the same people every time, handing out the stuff? Glow, I mean?’
‘They host the raves, right? You pay at the door. Then if you’re good you get given some of the stuff for free. After, you pay for more.’
‘So, do you know who runs them?’
I press the straw to her lips again and she drinks.
‘Marko’s boss. We don’t know who he is. Marko always just calls him the boss.’
‘So, this guy Marko? He hands out the Glow?’
‘Yes. He’s got a team.’ She frowns at me. ‘You’re not the fuzz, are you?’
‘No, no, I’m not.’
‘Oh, that’s okay, then.’ She seems to sink deeper into the pillow. ‘So tired. You don’t have any Glow with you?’
I shake my head. ‘Do you have extra?’
‘They only hand out two pills. You take one at a time. I don’t know where my other one is … maybe in my clothes? It’s all you need to see everything.’ She yawns widely and struggles feebly against the restraints holding her. Confusion creases her brow. ‘Why did they do this? I’m not dangerous.’
‘I don’t know, Jane. Maybe they’re worried you’ll hurt yourself.’ There are voices from outside the door and I realize I’ve been in here for quite a while. ‘You rest, Jane. And stop going to raves. They’re not good for you.’
‘Yeah, okay, can I sleep now?’
I watch as she sinks into slumber and feel genuine fear for her. She barely makes a dent in the bedding she’s lying on, her body is so slight. I move away from the bed and look around the small room. There’s a small closet and I pull the door open to have a look. Her clothes are in there I make short work of rifling through the tiny top that seems far too flimsy to wear on a night as cold as this. There’s nothing in her jeans either, but when I pull the belt away from the loops I spot the small clear plastic baggie containing one small round pill that looks like it’s made from crushed malachite, that she’s hidden beneath the buckle. So as not to get my own fingerprints on it, I take the baggie out with the tips of my nails and pop it into an unused plastic cup – which I fold so that it fits in my pocket. I quietly leave the room and pull the door shut behind me.
‘She’s sleeping. Someone else will be around to check on her soon,’ I tell the policeman and he just nods. I see no sign of Dante at all so I choose a direction, and head back the way I came.
He’s waiting for me on the stairs looking unwell, and we head back down to the ground floor and the closet where we left our clothes. We change hastily and I wipe down the pass card I’d taken and leave it there too.
We exit the hospital through the main doors and find Aiden lurking outside, talking to a group of smokers near the entrance.
Chapter Seven
‘They had her tied up,’ I say, not for the first time, once we’re home. I’m sitting at my laptop, downloading the photos I took of Jane’s medical records. ‘Like she was dangerous.’
Aiden leans forward to see the screen.
‘There’s not a lot of info here,’ he says, skimming the pages. ‘But what it says is bad enough. The fact that they’re mentioning LSD and MDMA means they’ll have the SOCA – the Serious Organized Crime Agency – guys in as part of this investigation. I know my dad reached out to them when we took over the case, but they’ve been playing their cards close to their chest. Maybe we could try again.’
‘I feel a little out of my depth here,’ I admit and stare at the screen. ‘I’m better at fighting monsters and drawing spells than the official side of things.’
‘It’s why you’ve got me,’ Dante says as he walks into the dining room. ‘I speak the language. Okay, so I called in a favour from one of the tech support guys at the Spooks’ HQ. He tracked down this Marko guy and I have his address. How about we go now?’
‘Where does he live?’
‘Whitechapel.’ Dante smirks at Aiden before opening his hand and showing Aiden’s car keys resting in his palm. ‘And I’m driving.’
It’s almost four in the morning when we pull up outside Marko’s building in Whitechapel. The ringing doorbell is answered by a sleepy-looking guy with a week-old scruff on his jaw. He stares at us blearily for a few minutes but Aiden’s there talking fast, looking earnest and asking for Marko. He talks a good spiel, says he’s just come from Game in Soho and needs to talk to him immediately about a business proposition. The guy looks as if he’s zoned out completely but he grins at Aiden the whole time and by time Aiden’s finished he has Marko’s schedule for the next three days, the guy’s name (Louie) and Marko’s mobile number. We head back towards the car as Aiden rings Marko’s mobile to find out where he is. We’re guessing he’s a night owl. The conversation is brief but it seems friendly, especially when Aiden lets Louie’s name drop, as if they’re friends.
Both Dante and I stare at him, a bit open-mouthed.
‘What?’ he asks, shimmying so that he can get the phone back into his jeans pocket. ‘Hey, no judging. I use what I’ve got to get what I want.’
I lift my hands up in protest. ‘Not hearing any complaints from me, at all, Aide. I just wasn’t aware that you could turn on the charm to that extent. I always thought you were more the “dangle them by one foot from the roof” kinda
guy.’
‘There’s a time and place for everything, Kit,’ he says rather primly, but the way he jiggles his eyebrow at me makes me laugh. He checks his phone. ‘We need to get to Covent Garden.’
Dante turns back to the steering wheel and starts the Cayenne.
I watch late night/early morning London slide by the window as we head back into the West End. Jane’s face is firmly lodged in my mind and I wonder if she’ll recover. The fact that Marko and his people have been actually staging raves and she’s taken Glow more than once is really terrifying. I wonder if they’ve been changing the compound, too. Otherwise, why would some, like the boy who’d died, react so aggressively to the drug compared to Jane?
‘… me, Kit?’
I blink at Aiden’s voice and focus on him.
‘Sorry, what?’
‘I’m checking that you’re okay. You’ve gone very quiet. How’s your head?’
‘Oh.’ I move my thumb over my eyebrow. ‘Fine. The painkillers and sleep helped a lot.’
‘You’re getting them more often?’ Dante’s eyes meet mine in the rear-view mirror. ‘Have you been to see a doctor?’
I shrug. ‘I’ve always had them. My nan had them. She told me my mum had them. Sometimes migraines are just hereditary.’
‘That’s utter rubbish. If these migraines are happening more often, you should be seeing someone.’
‘It’s probably just stress and lack of sleep, Dad. I’m fine, seriously.’ I kick the back of Dante’s seat. ‘Besides, you can’t talk. You need to concentrate on driving your boyfriend’s car.’
‘Yeah. Don’t scratch my baby or crash her,’ Aiden chips in.
‘Also, I’m not your boyfriend,’ Dante shoots back easily and for a second there’s a breathlessness in the car that I attribute to how still Aiden’s gone, but then he laughs softly.
‘Not yet, Alexander. Give me time.’
Dante gives him a surprised look. ‘I like that you’re making this a challenge, Aide.’
‘Oh my God, your awkward flirting is killing me,’ I mutter and fling my arm dramatically over my eyes. ‘How did I ever think you guys were smooth?’