Judged Page 9

  Dante sits back on the couch, his pen making scritching noises over the page.

  ‘Have you spoken to the police?’ I ask Miron, letting his sniping at my education go by without rising to the bait.

  ‘No. This is an in-house matter that I prefer not to share with the human authorities. They’ll ask questions I’m not at liberty to answer.’ At my raised eyebrows he continues, ‘There may have been an ambassador from a foreign country entertaining a few of the Infernal in one of my VIP rooms. Things got messy.’

  ‘I’m sure Detective Shen …’ I start but he interrupts me.

  ‘Is not my friend.’ He looks pained. ‘It’s why I had Philippe call Garrett. We know he’s been working with his brothers on the Glow case. Aiden – I spoke with your brother Connor before you arrived. He mentioned that you went to the rave in Croydon the other night, where the boy died.’

  I trade a significant look with Aiden before he replies. ‘Yeah, we did. There were police everywhere. We found a lead on one of the distributors, we think.’

  There’s another pause before I speak up again. ‘What about the humans that were harmed here? And the ones on Glow?’

  ‘Philippe hit the guy who started the brawl with a memory spell. He shouldn’t remember what happened here. We’re not too concerned about the other humans who were in the club – their memories will also be affected when they leave here. It’s a precaution only,’ Miron adds before I can protest. ‘I never invoke the blanketing spell unless it’s completely necessary. In all the time Milton’s has been in business, we’ve only needed to do so en masse once before in the past.’

  Aiden and I share an uncomfortable look.

  ‘The effects of the Glow didn’t last long, and Rorke took three other humans to hospital – those most strongly affected. We couldn’t just send them home – even I’m not that heartless. The one girl was hovering, for Lilith’s sake.’

  ‘Can you send us details of the goblins you employed to fix your air conditioning? And anything else you can think of, and a copy of that video?’

  ‘Already done.’ Miron hands me a slender USB stick. ‘Everything we have is there. The USB contains the video, copies of the paperwork and contact information.’

  I stand to go, but Dante’s asking Miron a few more questions behind me. I only partially listen, leaning against the internal window that looks down on the club below. I allow my mind to wander as I consider what we’ve seen. Listening to Miron, and seeing for myself the evidence of the use of Glow going wrong is a wake-up call. The problem is big and it’s getting bigger. And as much as I’d like to try to do everything, especially rescuing the kids in the Otherwhere, I realize my options are limited. I need to focus on the stuff I can fix. That means that Glow takes priority now and if Thorn needs me to help him further down the line with whatever he’s into, then that’s fine too. Right now, though, I need to throw all my energy into helping Aiden and Dante find the Glow manufacturers – and take them down.

  It feels good having come to this decision and I suddenly feel more positive than I have done for weeks. It’s the part of a case I like the most. The decision to act.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘How far do you think we can run before our families notice we’ve skipped out on them?’ Aiden asks as we walk towards his car. ‘I’ve got cash in the back of the car. I reckon we can get to the Bahamas within twelve hours. Leo can help. Hell, he’ll probably want to come. He can get us passports too. What do you say?’ He drapes an arm over me and Dante and hugs us close. ‘Think about it.’

  Dante looks down at Aiden with an expression close to consideration and I laugh.

  ‘Hey, the last time I wanted to run away you stopped me,’ I tell him. ‘What’s changed?’

  ‘Everything.’ He sighs and opens the car door for me but I get in the back seat instead, leaving Dante to sit in the front next to him. ‘I really feel like we’re being battered from all sides, and just not getting any kind of break.’

  ‘When is your dad back from Russia?’

  ‘Not sure. In the next week or so. My mum’s coming back with him.’ Aiden grins at Dante as they buckle themselves in. ‘She’s going to love you so much. She’s an awful cook.’

  ‘Great – I think?’ Dante stares out of the window. ‘So, what’s our play? What do we do next?’

  Two pairs of eyes stare back at me from the rear-view mirror and I groan. ‘Why must I be the one making decisions?’ But I can’t help feeling chuffed that both of them defer to me. ‘Okay, I think we let Uncle Andrew know about Tia first. I’ll drop him an email when we get back to yours and he can liaise with Detective Shen. While I’m doing that, you see what we can get from the USB Miron gave us. The info about the goblins should be helpful.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan. What do we do if the integrity of the Hold is called into question?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know.’ I worry at my thumbnail. ‘We’ll have to talk to Jamie or Uncle Andrew if there’s any evidence of that.’

  ‘Explain to me about the Holds,’ Dante says, twisting in his seat so he can look at both Aiden and me. His hair’s a mess and his jaw is dark with stubble. He definitely no longer looks like the neat little government employee and I’ll be honest when I say I far prefer the dishevelled look on him.

  ‘The Holds are like Switzerland,’ Aiden tells him. ‘Neutral. Seelie and Unseelie and the Free Fae can ask a Hold to put them up for a night or a week, as long as they can pay. They are guaranteed safety here in the Frontier. And because each Hold has strong ties to the Otherwhere, through an item or person of power, the faeries prefer to stay there rather than elsewhere in the human world because it doesn’t tire them out as much.’

  ‘Are the Holds all over the UK?’

  ‘All over the world, basically. They’re everywhere, as long as you know where to look. Some are grand and strong enough to have their own permanent gateways to the Otherwhere.’

  ‘You mentioned payment?’

  ‘Yep. Nothing in life is for free, especially not staying at a Hold. You pay for whatever you need. Some faeries just go to socialize and meet up with friends. Others stay for business with humans.’ Aiden grins at me in the mirror. ‘Did I miss anything out?’

  ‘No, you pretty much covered what I know.’

  Dante digests this, nodding. ‘It makes sense that they’d want something like that. How are the Holds run?’

  ‘Their ownership is hereditary. There are some families who’ve run the Holds for centuries, whilst others occasionally change hands. I’m not entirely sure how it works because I’ve not really looked into it.’ I tap my fingers on my knee and meet his eyes in the mirror. ‘But I’m sure we have info on the database somewhere or you can just talk to Kyle, you know? My baby cousin’s just a phone call away.’

  ‘Yeah, I think I’ll do that.’ He smiles at me and I smile back. ‘I want to go for a run when we get back, clear my head. Wanna come?’

  ‘Sounds good. I’ve not stretched my legs for a few days. Aide?’

  ‘No, thanks. This wolf is happy to stay in and make some calls. I need to open the rest of the house in case any of the pack comes round. You guys go run around in the wet and miserable cold.’

  I’ve not run with Dante before. It’s far less competitive than running with Aiden. We take the back roads that lead to Kensington Gardens, keeping up a steady pace. It feels good to be out and about, even if it’s so cold that our breath mists the air. Very few people are around and it’s mid-afternoon. Usually we’d be running past ladies who lunch and families out for strolls in the park. Even the traffic seems dialled down a notch – which is unusual this close to Christmas.

  ‘You good?’ Dante asks me as we wait for the lights to change at a junction.

  ‘Yeah, you?’

  ‘I think so. Thanks for coming out with me.’

  ‘I’m totally here to protect you against marauding packs of toddlers and their nannies,’ I say, having been privy to an embarrassed confession
of this fear as we were leaving the Garretts’. ‘It’s the only reason you wanted me along.’

  He gives a laugh, tugging his beanie further over his ears. ‘They are feral. I fear for my life every time I come running.’

  We head into the park, where some of the trees are lit up with bright lights, creating a pretty holiday feel. We spot a group of nannies and toddlers, who all perk up when they spot Dante. He mutters something under his breath and raises his hand to them in greeting. They all wave back excitedly.

  ‘You weren’t joking,’ I gasp, genuinely amused, stretching my legs to keep up with his quickened pace. ‘Seriously – why are you so grumpy that they’re being nice to you?’

  ‘Oh my God, Kit, they keep bringing me things to eat. And most of them want to introduce me to their daughters.’ He grimaces and pulls his beanie down lower as if it could hide him from them.

  I’m still laughing at him when I see movement behind him. I straighten in alarm and, acting on instinct, I shove Dante hard out of the way. He stumbles off the path onto the grass just as his attacker takes a swing with his sword. Because I’m straightening and standing in the space Dante occupied, I manage to get right in beneath the attacker’s guard. I’m not proud of the knuckle-punch I throw straight into his throat, right beneath his chin, but it takes him down hard and fast. He drops, desperately gasping for air. I step over him, pick up his sword and heft it in my hand. I toss it in the air, spinning it, getting a feel for it. The balance seems okay but the blade itself could be sharper, perhaps. Even so, the point is nice and sharp and I reverse the hilt and tap him against the temple where he lies on the ground, knocking him out completely.

  ‘Stupid move,’ I tell him and wonder where Dante’s got to, risking a glance to my right. I’m surprised to see Dante engaged in a strangely silent fight against another opponent. The guy is big, bigger certainly than Dante, but not as fast. And speed is crucial when you’re fighting an opponent larger than you.

  Dante murmurs something and his opponent falters for a moment, staring at him. A warm breeze circles me and I sway towards Dante as he brings his siren power to bear, luring the guy closer. His attacker drops his sword and reaches for Dante’s face. Dante wastes no time playing nice. He grabs the guy’s extended hand in a powerful wristlock and applies the minimum amount of pressure to his attacker’s arm; the guy drops to his knees. Then Dante just knuckle-punches a set of nerves in the side of the guy’s neck, knocking him out.

  He looks up and his gaze finds mine. He looks as startled and angry by the unexpected attack as I am.

  ‘Who’re these guys?’ I ask, staring down at my guy, taking in the clothes that look Fae-made.

  ‘I don’t know. But there are more of them.’ He sounds grimly delighted. I turn to follow his gaze and I feel a surge of adrenalin.

  ‘It’s like all our Christmases came at once,’ I say ironically. ‘I’ve not been in a fight in weeks. Which would you like? The two really big guys or the other two really big guys?’

  ‘I’m not picky. Ladies’ choice.’

  I move away from my unconscious opponent and do that ridiculous twirl with the sword that looks like showing off. What I’m really dong is limbering up my wrist and playing for time. This is not an everyday situation, despite our job descriptions, and I’m worried that someone may walk into the middle of this and get hurt. The path is quiet, badly lit and set apart from the rest of the park – so we’re unlikely to be disturbed. But the sound of fighting has an unpleasant way of attracting attention. Especially the clear ring of steel against steel.

  The four Fae – they are definitely Fae – are spread out in a semicircle before us. They’re dressed in loose-fitting dark clothes, and the way they’re moving makes me doubt they’re wearing much armour. Their faces are also marked up so that there’s little that doesn’t blend in with the descending darkness. These guys are here for a quick and violent mission – either to kill us both or to take one of us after the other’s been subdued. They’re not expecting much of a fight, not dressed the way they are.

  Dante’s not bothered with his attacker’s sword and instead has moved some distance from me, creating space in which to fight. He looks far too at ease when he glances at me. I recognize his expression and groan a little. Part of him is looking forward to this.

  ‘Gentlemen,’ I say turning back to the four Fae. ‘Shall we dance?’

  I duck and spin away from my opponent. He’s like quicksilver, agile and good with his blade. Ridiculously good and I’m starting to panic. I’m okay with my blade, when I go up against goblins and less well-trained wannabe-assassins, but these guys are accomplished. Dante’s already felled his first attacker. I heard bone crack and I doubt that guy’s going to be getting up in a hurry.

  I deflect another parry, barely keeping it together, backing away from the flickering blade. He’s already managed to draw first blood, a small nick on my bicep, and it burns like all hell. Behind him, the other attacker seems torn between joining the fray and staying out of it. He edges towards Dante and I won’t lie, I’m relieved. My guy is giving me a lot of fight to think about and I’m not sure I can handle another right now. My mind works overtime as I meet his blade with mine, the clash vibrating through my wrists and arms.

  There’s a flash of annoyance in the eyes staring down at me and I see his resolve hardening. He is toying with me, I suddenly realize, letting me tire myself. Then he can deliver that final blow, walk away and not feel that he’s taken a life with ease. The thought jolts me and my magic rips through me in answer. I lift my hand and slap it into his face, directly over his eyes. I accompany the slap with a ball of fluorescent bright white light and sort of smear it with intent across his face. And as I do it, working on pure instinct here, I will it to start burning.

  He falls back in shock, the blade of his sword dropping away from mine, freeing my weapon. As he staggers, I move forwards and ram the butt of the sword straight into his face, breaking his nose, and he drops to the ground, both hands grabbing for his damaged face.

  I turn towards Dante, gasping for breath. He’s felled his second guy in a move I didn’t see, but as I watch he stomps on his final opponent’s foot, anchoring him in place. Then with two hands behind the guy’s neck, he jerks the guy’s face towards his knee and our last attacker goes down too.

  Dante stalks towards me. His shoulder’s bleeding and his eyes are wide.

  ‘What’s this about?’ he asks me, his breathing ragged. ‘Who’ve we pissed off now?’

  ‘The list is getting too long for comfort,’ I say wearily. ‘We have to go, come on. Someone’s probably heard the commotion and called the cops.’

  ‘Wait.’ He kneels down beside his most recent aggressor and pats him down with a rather worrying degree of expertise. ‘Check the other guys’ pockets. See if they’ve anything on them to tell us who they are.’

  ‘Bad guys, that’s who.’ But I do as he says and come up with a small bag of something. I pocket that to examine when we get back to Aiden’s.

  ‘No identification; they don’t have anything on them.’

  ‘They’re Fae though, right?’ Dante asks as he stands, staring at his opponent’s unconscious form. He’d ripped the covering from the guy’s face and his features look young and elegant and have that sense of other that is so familiar to me now. Dante takes a step back, wiping his hands on his hoodie in an unconscious gesture to get his hands clean. ‘Why did they come after us?’

  ‘We need to do more running away,’ I say clearly. ‘Right now. Talking later. Come.’

  He lets me grab his hand and pull him into a jog, away from the six unconscious, dead or dying Fae assassins. Halfway through the now-dark park, it starts drizzling and I start shaking from spent adrenalin. We lengthen our stride and by the time we get to the main road I’m soaked through and feel sick.

  Dante flags down a taxi and we bundle into the back. He gives the driver Aiden’s address and holds my trembling hand in silence all the way there.


  Chapter Fourteen

  I don’t know how long I’m in the shower, letting the hot water pour over me, but by the time I’m done I’ve stopped shaking. I use my small first-aid kit to clean the cut on my upper arm and bandage it securely. Neither of the boys noticed the cut in all the rush when we got home and I’m grateful for it. Their fussing would’ve made me come undone.

  I pull on track-pants, one of Aiden’s Henley T-shirts and one of my own worn hoodies. And once it feels like I’ve put enough layers between me and the world out there, I sit down on my bed and take a breath. I touch the smooth skin of my hand, the one that slapped my attacker’s face. I can still feel the residual heat from the magic and the slippery way his features shifted beneath my hand. Then I remember the pouch I lifted from one of our attackers and dig that out of my wet hoodie pocket.

  It fits neatly into the palm of my hand. The pouch is made of worked leather and has a small drawstring. It looks like the little leather pouches sold at re-enactor stalls, in which you’d keep coins and valuable stones. Opting not to open it, I put it in my pocket and go to find the boys.

  Aiden almost had a fit when he let us in earlier and went into full-on mothering mode, especially when Dante stumbled and he caught a glimpse of his pale face. It was really sweet but I had to get clean and needed time to regroup myself, so I left them to it. I now hear them talking in Dante’s room so I knock lightly and push the door open.

  Dante’s had a shower and he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, with his head bowed. The first thing I focus on is the cut on his shoulder, the other thing I notice is the spread of his tattoo across his skin. He gives me a searching look over his shoulder as I enter, and I smile to show him I’m okay.