‘Lora. What a lovely surprise.’ He folded his napkin and tucked it into a pocket, tongue working to clean his teeth. ‘You’ve caught me in the middle of breakfast.’
I smiled at him. ‘Oh, I'm sorry.’
‘No matter. What can I help you with?’
My lips spread wider, my dimples on high beam. ‘I had a run in with the Sisters of No Mercy last night. They had something of mine: a book of darkcraft. You might remember it? The book you swore on your grave to keep safe for me.’
Taunton rubbed his hands nervously over his toffee coloured vest. ‘Ah yes. That. I was going to tell you about it, I swear.’
‘Oh?’
‘I was given no choice on the matter. I owed Maya Velkov a debt, and she cashed it in. I'm sorry. I can replace it. Why don’t you tell me where you got the book from, and I'll see what I can do.’
My smile faded. ‘You and I both know that book was one of a kind. So now I'm going to have to get it back. For this breach of trust between us, I think you can consider all my debts cancelled.’
‘Those terms are reasonable.’
Giving him a crisp nod, I pretended to check out a shelf of porcelain cats statues. ‘I heard you recently bought up a collection of Outland weapons, from a guy called Reuben Crowhurst.’
A smooth mask of respectability slid over Taunton’s face. ‘Outland weapons are illegal. If I was caught breaking that law, I would be subjected to a large fine and jail term that would accompany such a breach of law.’
‘Do I look like the law to you?’ I asked. ‘I'm just here after some information.’
Taunton cocked an eyebrow. ‘Information is my currency, my dear Lora, and some of that information tells me that soon enough, you may very well be in such a position.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I was led to believe you were going to begin working for the Order; is it true?’
‘Not if I can help it.’ I paused, then asked, ‘Did you hear about what happened last night in the Gypsy Quarter?’
Taunton tapped a finger against his pursed lips, then indicated I follow him to the back room. A bad feeling settled over me like a grizzly grey storm cloud. The fact Taunton hadn’t even wanted to talk money first indicated one of two things: either I couldn’t afford what he knew, or the situation was so bad, he was going to tell me for free.
Both options sucked.
The back room was small and cosy, the walls covered with bookshelves. Taunton’s desk was clutter free, save for some neatly stacked manila files and a half-eaten pastry on a china plate. He indicated I take one of the wingback leather chairs opposite the table, then settled behind the desk, his face pulled tight like he’d rather be anywhere but here with me.
‘You’re hard to read, Taunton,’ I said. ‘But I'm pretty sure that’s not your happy face,’ I said, sitting down.
‘This is pretty far from my happy face.’ Taunton folded his hands, placing them on his desk. ‘And yes, I heard about what happened. The Reapers killing a Marrok is a slap in the face to the families of the Gypsy Quarter. In the past, the Quarter has been too close-knit for any gang to infiltrate. Now, though, with a potential street war brewing, that could change.’
‘It could.’
‘It wouldn’t be a far stretch to assume Tarn Marrok was murdered on Ivor Grogan’s orders. Grogan had a lot tied up with his daughter’s promised marriage to Elmore Deckkart.’ He paused. ‘You do know who that is, don’t you?’
‘Kind of easy to guess once you check out that ugly, skeleton tattooed face of his,’ I said.
Taunton frowned and I got the feeling he had information he wanted to share but, on fiscal principle, was not going to just come out and say it. Seems I had to work for my free information after all. ‘Gideon put me on a job to locate a missing person,’ I said. ‘His name was Jonas Grundler.’
‘Was?’ Taunton opened a top drawer on the desk, rummaged about, then closed it again, like he’d forgotten what he was looking for.
‘Did you hear what happened at Ivor Grogan’s fancy-pants party?’ I asked.
Taunton poked his pastry with a finger, looking like he’d lost his appetite. ‘I heard you killed a man. Don’t tell me your missing person was the very same man.’
‘He was a griorwolf.’ I paused, but Taunton didn’t look surprised, so I pushed on. ‘And yes, it was Grundler. I checked his body in the morgue. He was covered in bruises and needle marks. Someone had been torturing and injecting him with something that distorted his beast. I'm thinking it was the new drug around, called rapture. I've heard it can cause a griorwolf to change against their will.’
Taunton nodded. ‘I'm told the drug has quite an adverse effect on full-bloods in general, while it supplies nothing but a tranquil bliss for humans.’
‘Have you heard of anyone buying large batches of Outland hypodermic needles on the black market?’ I asked. ‘The needle marks on Grundler were too small to be Weald made.’
‘I have not heard of anything, but I could ask around. A couple of my competitors specialise in Outland medical equipment and pharmaceuticals.’ Taunton eyed me sceptically. ‘Tell me, Lora, what is it you think you can do for this dead griorwolf? Perhaps it is wise to let things go.’
‘His mother wants justice, and I think she’s entitled to it. The City Watch will never be able to bring Grogan in,’ I said. ‘He’s too wealthy, and if he succeeds in taking over the reins of the Reapers, he’ll be untouchable.’
‘That sounds unusually honourable for you, Lora. To feel such civic duty towards another citizen. Perhaps your tenure with the Order will not be such a stretch. But I cannot help you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I heard the front door bell.’
Taunton stood and picked up his plate. He moved around the table and through the curtain, returning to his shop. I stood and started to follow, surprised at being dismissed so quickly. It had seemed as though Taunton had wanted to tell me something, but maybe I'd been wrong. My eyes fell on where his plate had been, and spied a piece of paper that had been under it. I took in the clean desk, the neatly assorted stationery, then this random piece of paper. Leaning over, I snatched it up. If it was a clue Taunton was trying to pass on, great. If I'd just picked up his rubbish, well, yay for litterbug buster Lora. I slipped it into a belt pocket and strolled back into the shop. Taunton was holding the door open for me.
‘I must have been wrong about hearing the bell, there’s no-one here.’
‘Sure.’
‘I'm sorry I couldn’t help you more, Lora.’
‘I'm sorry as well,’ I said, then walked out into the street.
Chapter 36
Leaving Taunton’s shop, I headed back to Seth’s to check on Nicola. As I walked, I took out Taunton’s paper and gave it the once over. It looked like a betting slip for a venue called the Silver Dragon, which I didn’t recognise. The paper felt smooth and expensive, obviously not from your average nickel and dime goblin press.
A horn honked near me and I turned to see Crowhurst behind the wheel of his car, gesturing for me to hop in. I limped over and got in the passenger side.
‘Gideon told me you took Nicola to Hallow’s place,’ said Crowhurst as he pulled away from the curb. ‘I'm on my way there now to check in on her.’
‘Thanks for the lift.’ I rubbed my leg. The brace was holding up, but I was getting tired.
‘Always happy to oblige a lady.’
‘How are your family?’ I asked, when I realised he wasn’t backing the lady comment up with a traditional insult.
‘They’re talking about retaliation.’ Crowhurst’s voice was calm, like he was discussing the unseasonably nice weather. ‘The Reapers own a handful of saloons near the harbour. Stands to reason they’d hit those places first.’ Crowhurst made a frustrated growl and hit his steering wheel a few times. ‘No-one will listen to me, either. I haven’t been an active participant in the family for a while, so I'm treated like an outsider.’ He glanced at me, spying the piece
of paper in my hands. ‘What’s that?’
‘A clue.’ I waved it about. ‘It’s a betting slip from a place called the Silver Dragon. Taunton slipped it to me when I started asking about Grogan and griorwolves. He was pretty cagey otherwise, like he wanted to help, but knew he’d get his knuckles rapped if he did.’
‘The Silver Dragon?’ Crowhurst frowned. ‘Never heard of it.’
By the time Crowhurst parked outside Seth’s home it was noon and the sidewalks were crowded with people enjoying their lunchbreaks. I kept my eyes sharp for anyone acting suspicious. A group of women paused by Crowhurst’s car, eyes wide as they took in the Outland machine.
‘Looks like you’ve got fans,’ I said.
Crowhurst grinned. ‘It’s like I keep telling you, this car gets me all the ladies.’
Leaving him to his horde of fans, I got out and approached Seth’s front door. It wasn’t until my fingertips touched the door that I realised the City Watch guards were no longer at their posts. The door pushed open at my touch. Inside, the furniture in Seth’s living room was overturned and busted, liked there had been a fight. My ears strained for any sound of life. Rushing upstairs, I found the bedrooms empty. Retreating back to the living room, I mentally lined up who might be responsible and found the list crowded. Maybe the Sisters of No Mercy had found out where I was staying and had come to kick up more trouble. Most likely, Grogan had heard where his daughter was, and had her snatched. My mind’s eye fixed on the image of his country estate. I'd lay money he’d have her taken there, and Nicola was now in mortal danger. Once Grogan knew of her pregnancy, he would kill her. I was sure of it.
I entered the kitchen to see my sword had been plunged deep into the kitchen table top. Wrapping my hand around the hilt, I managing to work the blade free.
‘There you are.’
Glancing up, I spied Lander standing in the open back door. The side of his face was wrapped in bandages. Fury spat from his eye and he held a sleek wheellock, aimed at my head. Beyond him lay the bodies of the City Watch guards.
‘You look surprised to see me,’ he said.
‘Thought you’d become a griorwolf’s chew toy.’
‘Take more than a rabid dog to put me down.’ He nodded towards my sword. ‘Drop it.’
I reluctantly tossed the blade on the ground. ‘Where’s Nicola?’
‘Back where she belongs, with her father.’ Lander’s eyes ran over my coat. ‘Take that off as well.’
My fingers worked my coat buttons and I dropped it by my feet. Lander’s eyes watched it fall with a smirk. Knowing he had murder on his mind, I took a chance and jumped for my sword. The gun cracked and a force smacked into my shoulder, knocking me back to the ground.
Lying on the cold floor and trying to remember how to breathe, Lander’s face came into view, leering down at me. I heard scuffling and twisted to see two men dragging Crowhurst between them. They righted a chair in the living room and tied Crowhurst to it, a third man standing nearby with a multi-shot crossbow trained at Crowhurst’s head.
Lander tucked the wheellock into his belt, then reached down and pulled me up. My wounded shoulder was numb, but I knew pain would swiftly build. Someone dragged a chair in from the kitchen and placed it beside Crowhurst. I got shoved into it, and my arms were bound behind me with rope. The numbness in my shoulder started to retreat, leaving a throbbing pins and needles in its wake. I bit back a moan.
‘You all right, Lora?’ Crowhurst’s voice was slurred, like he was shaking off a knock to the head.
‘Just dandy. You?’
‘Never better.’
I looked at Lander. ‘What is Grogan going to do to his daughter?’
Lander’s twisted lip curled into a crooked smile. The movement made him wince, and the smile dropped. ‘I wouldn’t worry about her.’ He stepped up to Crowhurst, checking him out. ‘And who is this?’
‘No-one you want to know,’ Crowhurst spat.
Lander punched him in the face. Crowhurst’s head snapped back, blood splattering from his nose and painting Lander’s knuckles. ‘Who are you?’
Crowhurst’s voice descended into a low growl, and his chair creaked. ‘I'll show you.’
One of the Reapers produced a billy club and smacked it down against the back of Crowhurst’s head. Crowhurst grunted and his head fell forward, shoulders going limp. I bit my lip, keeping quiet. Empty threats weren’t going to help anyone at this point.
‘A griorwolf,’ Lander mused. He motioned to some of his men. ‘Take him to the stables.’
Crowhurst was untied and dragged out the front door, blood trickling from his hairline, his head loose on his shoulders.
‘Where are you taking him?’ Waves of pain had started to radiate from my shoulder, making it hard to think.
Lander’s eyes gleamed. ‘A nice new kennel.’
‘Going to stash him with your other pet griorwolves?’
‘The last one escaped. You might have heard about it.’ Lander tapped a finger on his chin in a mocking gesture. ‘But of course you’d remember. You were the one who murdered him.’
‘After you tortured him until he was insane,’ I spat.
‘Not so insane he couldn’t find his way through the forest and back to the boss’s house.’
‘Where are you keeping them? Somewhere in the city?’
‘If you’re a good girl, you’ll find out soon enough.’
‘He was being injected with rapture, wasn’t he? Why?’
Lander sat down in the seat Crowhurst had vacated and pulled a switchblade from inside his jacket. ‘Ivor Grogan is a talented alchemist. A man like him isn’t going to settle for experimenting on a bunch of mice.’ A long blade snapped out, and I flinched as he waved it under my nose. ‘A great visionary like him? He’ll take the chances he needs to, in order to get results. Ivor Grogan is going places, and I intend to go with him.’
The blade sliced through the front of my shirt. Lander grabbed the opening and ripped it, exposing my very sensible, very Outland sports bra. Lander frowned at it. ‘What is that hideous thing?’
I glared at him, but said nothing. My bravado levels felt pretty darn low at this point. This wasn’t the first time I'd been tied to a chair and threatened, but I was more unnerved than I cared to admit. Lander ripped my shirt more, pulling it down further. I winced as he trailed a finger around the shot wound in my shoulder, then along the top of my breasts, trailing a line of blood.
‘You know something, Lora? You seem like a girl who doesn’t know how to relax,’ he said.
‘A shot of whiskey usually does the job,’ I said, my teeth clenched.
Someone chuckled behind me, obviously enjoying the show. Lander closed the switchblade and pocketed it, reappearing with a small Outland syringe.
‘Have you ever tasted rapture, Lora?’ He pulled the sheath off the needle.
‘Not my choice of poison.’ My eyes were locked on that needle. I tried to keep calm, tried to relax, tried to remind myself that panic would not serve me. ‘What’s the Silver Dragon?’
‘A place you can’t afford, little girl. Your griorwolf friend is going to get front row seats soon enough.’
‘A captive griorwolf and a betting slip.’ My voice gave out, so I swallowed a few times and tried again. ‘Sounds like a rather illegal sporting event.’
‘Monsters fighting monsters. It could hardly be called a crime.’
‘Full-bloods aren’t monsters.’
Lander leant close enough for me to feel his sour breath on my face, but not close enough that I could head-butt him. ‘They are, once we’re done with them. Rapture effects full-bloods different to humans. Something you’ll get to see soon enough.’ His voice turned sickly sweet. ‘Sometimes, the boss experiments. He mixes the rapture with other chemicals, before injecting the griorwolves, just to see what will happen. Once, a griorwolf was injected with a combination of rapture and the blood of a craftuser. It mutated the griorwolf when it transformed into the beast, growing a
third arm from its chest. Can you believe that?’
I didn’t answer. Lander smirked at me, then put the syringe between his teeth and moved my ruined shirt around so he had access to my inner left elbow. A primitive survival drive kicked in and I pulled at my restraints, breath tearing from my throat in ragged gasps. My shoulder howled in agony.
Lander took the syringe from his mouth. ‘Rapture will make you see things. Things that you couldn’t believe. You get to fly to the sky with this sweet sunshine running through your veins. The ecstasy… Well, you just have to experience it to believe it.’
The needle pinched my skin and I felt a cold rush in my arm. Then Lander withdrew, sheathing the needle and pocketing it. ‘I'm going to do things to you, Lora Blackgoat,’ he murmured, eyes hooded. ‘Things that you never thought possible, and you’re going to love every minute of it.’
A salty soap flavour flooded my mouth. Sweat popped out on my brow and the pain in my shoulder receded to a distant ache. My breathing became measured, my heart slowing to a drowsy beat. Something moved against my wrists, and I wiggled my hands finding them free of their bonds. My shoulders slumped, and my head drooped forward. Time slowed to a sluggish crawl. My skin tingled and numbness swept through my limbs before retreating, leaving a floating sensation in its wake.
‘Look at me, Lora.’
I blinked a few times, my thoughts heavy. With an effort, I lifted my chin and Lander’s face filled my vision. As I watched, his mouth wriggled like a caterpillar. I bit back a gasp as the mouth suddenly shifted and slid around his face, like a boat that had escaped its mooring.
‘How do you feel, Lora?’
The words fell from Lander’s roaming lips, and they were like a heavy liquid filling my ears. I squinted at him, wishing his mouth would keep still. Was it being chased by something? I heard the rasp of a match strike, then a bright flame flew across my vision, shining with the brilliance of a sun, trailing champagne sparkles. I tried to snatch at the colours.
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