by Steve McHugh
Diana nodded and grabbed Jack by the arm, marching him away.
“If he tries anything, tear his arm off,” I called after her.
From the look on Jack’s face, she’d heard me and probably smiled at the suggestion.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside. It was one long room with dozens and dozens of pots and vases, all with opened tops. I picked up the first pot and flipped it over. Staring back at me was a dwarven rune.
“These were used to keep the souls of the victims fresh,” I said, throwing the pot on the ground with a smash. I showed the mark to Alan and Fiona. “This rune allows them to do that.”
“Same rune here,” Fiona said, with a pot in each hand. She dropped them to the floor with results similar to mine.
“Me too,” Alan confirmed.
“Can you destroy them all, and then gather them into a pile? Make sure that none of the runes can still be used. I’m going to finish my conversation with Jack.”
“Hey, wait up,” Alan said as I left the room.
I rubbed my eyes. “Whatever exceptionally witty remark you’re about to make, please leave it for now.”
“You’re going to arrest me soon, I imagine. Fiona brought it up. She liked watching me as if I’m some sort of common criminal that might steal her purse.”
“I’ll ensure that all you’ve done goes toward lessening your sentence. But right now, I have other things to think about. When I head back to Avalon you can come with me. Until then, just don’t run off. With the mood I’m in you wouldn’t be happy when I caught you.”
Alan nodded once. “I’m glad we got them. Jack the Ripper caught. We’ll go down in history.”
“No one is ever going to know about this. Jack is going to become a footnote in history.” I turned to walk away and stopped. “Alan,” I called back. Alan had just walked back into the building with the pots and his head appeared out of the doorway.
“How can I help?”
“Thank you,” I said honestly meaning it.
“I might be crazy saying this, but it was my pleasure.”
I left him to his pot destruction and found Jack and Diana. Jack was sitting on the floor, holding his hand to his eye.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Jack here thought that because I’m a woman, he could overpower me. Turns out, Jack isn’t very good at actual fighting. He’s more of a ‘hide in the shadows like a coward and butcher helpless women’ kind of killer.”
I grabbed Jack’s arm and stood him up. “We’re going back to Avalon. You’re going to tell the council everything that happened here.”
“You don’t actually think I’ll do anything of the sort, do you?” he asked, with a slight laugh.
“You can do that, or I’ll just bury you here.”
“You may as well get a shovel then, because I’m not going to tell the Avalon council about the Reavers, or Merlin, or the murders of a bunch of whores. Not a chance.”
I head butted him.
“That wasn’t very mature,” Diana said.
“It was that or kill him. Can you tie him up and get him on the coach, we’ve got a long journey and I don’t trust myself not to just be rid of him.”
Diana grabbed Jack by his hair and hoisted him upright. “My pleasure.”
Jack opened his mouth to say something, but instead the explosion of a rifle sounded out around the warehouse. Jack stepped backward and collapsed to his knees, blood beginning to drench his shirt.
Diana and I dove into the warehouse as a second bullet tore into the side of Jack’s head, snapping it aside with terrible force. I saw him topple forward, dead before he hit the ground.
Inside the warehouse Felix had crouched behind a stack of thick timber. “Who’s shooting?”
I glanced out around the corner of my own stack of timbers and saw the rifleman walk off the dock toward us. Even with the considerable distance between us, I could tell it was Enfield from his clothes. He moved slower than he had before, his wounds from our earlier fight wouldn’t have healed yet, but he didn’t need to move fast when he was able to cover the distance much quicker with a bullet.
A round smashed into the timber not too far above my head, and I ducked back around the corner to relative safety.
“Can you see anything?” I shouted to Felix.
“Either Fiona or Alan has closed the door to the room, but he seems to be ignoring them. He’s walking over to Jack. If you go now, you might be able to get the drop on him.”
I moved quickly just as ice began to fill up the front of the warehouse at an incredible rate. I poured fire against it, but every time I did, the ice just returned. It soon became apparent that it was a waste of time.
“Nathan, are you in there?” Enfield asked from the warehouse entrance. “My job here is done. Jack is dead, we can’t have him telling tales, now can we? I’ll see you around. You too, Felix, you can’t hide forever.”
No one moved for several seconds, until the ice began exploding outward, impaling large shards all around the warehouse. One of which—a three-foot ice blade—tore through the wood only inches from my head.
No one spoke, until a few seconds later when Felix risked a glance. “He’s off by the dock again.”
I crept around the pile of timber and watched as Enfield stepped onto a small boat and eased off along the Thames. When he was out of sight, I risked a glance and then, with an air shield in place, stepped out of the warehouse. No one shot at me.
“What was the point of that then?” I asked Felix and Diana as they joined me outside of the warehouse.
“I’ll go check on Fiona and Alan,” Diana said and ran off toward the building they were in.
I made my way to Jack and looked down at the body, which was now on its front. A bullet hole sat in the back of his head, to go along with the one in the side of it and the one in his chest.
“That’s overkill,” I said. “He was already dead.”
“Maybe Enfield just wanted to make sure,” Felix suggested.
I wrapped air around Jack’s remains and moved him slightly, just in case Enfield had left a nasty little surprise in the way of a mine under his body. Jack is moved, Jack gets to hurt anyone nearby. I’d seen it before, and Enfield was certainly devious enough to want to do it, but nothing happened.
Felix walked past me and looked behind several nearby stacks of wood and bricks. “Neither of us would have been able to see him here from inside the warehouse.”
“So, what was he doing?”
Felix used his foot to move what looked like some rubbish and then turned, screaming at me to run. My body caught up to my brain an instant before the bomb exploded. The sound was instantly deafening, and I expanded the shield of air to include Felix, but it was too late, he’d thrown himself directly in between the explosion and me.
We were both knocked back, my head striking something hard that made my vision blur. I felt something trickle down my neck.
I wasn’t sure if Fiona, Alan, and Diana were there a second or an hour later, but I hadn’t moved and my ears hadn’t stopped ringing. People shouted at me, and I nodded as my head cleared.
“Stay still,” Fiona said as she crouched beside me. “Your stitches have re-opened, and you’ve cracked your skull something fierce.”
“Felix?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. You’re my main concern. Diana and Alan are dealing with Felix.”
It didn’t take long for Fiona to come to the conclusion that while I shouldn’t be running around anytime soon, I wasn’t in any immediate danger. My magic was already working hard to heal the silver wound, so adding a gash on my head hadn’t helped matters, but I’d be okay, if a little groggy.
Fiona told me that Felix was being taken to the safe house and that Diana would wait with me until someone returned. I thanked her and closed my eyes, only opening them again when the rocking motion of the coach woke me.
“We’re back,” Diana told me as she open
ed the coach doors and slapped me on my leg.
I sat up and immediately wished I hadn’t, as I fought the nausea that bubbled up. Diana helped me out of the coach and into the house, where I found a semi-conscious Felix lying on the kitchen table. A bowl of bloody water was on the table beside him. His shirt and trousers were missing.
“He okay?” I asked when I saw the mass of wounds dotted over his back and the backs of his legs.
“He’ll live,” Fiona told me. “It was a lot of silver though.”
“Time bomb,” Felix managed.
“Can you give us a second?” I asked everyone.
“Keep him calm,” Fiona demanded. “Stress could kill him.”
I waited for everyone to leave and then crouched beside Felix’s head. One of his eyes was bloodshot, and his face was pale and sweaty.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Had to make up for what we did. Didn’t want to die for nothing in some hovel somewhere.”
“You won’t die for nothing. I’ll make sure you’re somewhere safe; somewhere you can do what you like. I hope you live a long, boring, and safe life, Felix.”
Felix smiled and then passed out.
I left the kitchen and found everyone in the front room. Alan stood as I entered. “I guess you’re taking me to Avalon now.”
“Felix is unconscious,” I told Fiona. “I need you to stay here until he’s ready to be moved. Is that a problem?”
Fiona shook her head.
“Are you okay with that?” I asked Diana.
“I’ll clear it with Brutus. Are you leaving?”
“Yes. Alan, you’re staying here until Felix is mended. Then you’re going to take him somewhere no one else knows about and ensure he’s safe. That’s your punishment.”
“What?” Alan and Fiona asked at once.
“He’s a criminal,” Fiona explained.
“She’s sort of got a point there,” Alan surprisingly agreed.
“Don’t care. He helped stop these murders, so I’m giving him a chance. Run, Alan, take Felix somewhere safe and then run, because the second I tell people that you’re free someone is going to want to rectify that situation.”
“You can’t just let him go,” Fiona snapped.
“I can do anything I damn well choose. Once Felix is well enough to leave, Alan takes him somewhere safe. You want to keep tabs on him, you can go with him. In fact that’s not a bad idea. But I’m not taking him back to Avalon. As far as I’m concerned Alan’s a lot better at making someone vanish than Avalon is. He’s had more practice for a start.”
“I’m going to be staying with him then,” Fiona stated.
“Excellent,” Alan declared. “How should I let you know where Felix is?”
“I don’t want to know. No one but you should know. No one, are we clear?” I glanced to Fiona.
“In that case,” Alan started. “Fiona. I will take Felix away alone, then in exactly one year, I shall return to this house. You can treat me how you see fit. Just give me one year. Preparations will need to be made for Felix.”
Fiona glanced from me to Alan and then back. “I can’t believe I’m trusting you, but deal. One year today. An hour later and I hunt you down and drag you back to Avalon myself. By your damned ears if necessary.”
“Thank you, Nathan,” Alan said. “And you too, Fiona.”
“Don’t fuck up,” I said and left the room, fetching some clean clothes from my room.
Diana, Alan, and Fiona were all standing in front of the door as I made my way back downstairs.
“Be careful,” Alan said. “Thanks for the chance.”
“Try not to die,” Fiona said. “I spent far too long patching you up.”
I thanked them both and then turned to Diana.
“He won’t be happy to see you,” she said. “He will try to twist what he did. Don’t let him.”
“I don’t plan on it.”
She hugged me, which hurt more than a hug probably should. “Give him hell,” she whispered.
Give Merlin hell, I thought. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. I hoped I could bring him back from his path, just as I’d told Elaine I wanted to. But I didn’t believe a word of it. I was soon going to no longer be Merlin’s employee. What that meant for me, I had no idea. All I could say for certain was that no matter what happened from the moment I arrived in Camelot, I wasn’t going to be able to leave it and live the same life.
CHAPTER 27
Doncaster, England. Now.
Some people would probably be fine with waking up tied to something, unable to move. I’m not one of those people. My instinct is to kill everything within a few feet of me and then try to figure out who the bad guys are. Unfortunately, my current predicament made killing anything but time slightly more complicated. A pair of manacles on my wrists, connected to a large chain that shackled me to the ceiling, held me off the ground by at least a foot. Another pair—these attached to my feet, with a second chain leading to the floor—ensured the only place I was going was in tiny circular motions. I was not a happy person.
A lot of people would yell, they’d shout and scream. This usually ends up with someone getting hurt or dead. The best idea is to stay very quiet and figure out what’s happening before you let people know you’ve woken up. It’s almost a guarantee if they’ve gone to the trouble they had with me, that they’re not your friends.
The memories of Kelly Jensen and her merry band of psychopaths popped into my head. The griffin was there too. I really wanted to kill that griffin.
I swallowed my anger and looked around the chamber we were in. It was obviously one of the rooms in Felix’s hideaway, the walls told me that, although I certainly didn’t remember anyone mentioning any rooms that contained manacles. Ellie was in a predicament similar to mine; blood had dried on her scalp. She’d probably woken up quicker than they’d been expecting and she’d given them some trouble. Her eyes were still closed, but she was breathing regularly.
Next to her was Alan. He appeared to have had the shit kicked out of him. His face was puffy and swollen. He breathed out and it rattled; something inside was broken, hopefully nothing too serious.
On the other side of me was Remy. Remy was wide awake, staring at me. “You took your fucking time,” he whispered. He looked a bit worse for wear, but didn’t seem to be in any discomfort.
“I’m sorry, was my being unconscious a big inconvenience?” I asked. “We’re back in Felix’s home, I assume.” I just wanted to be sure.
“Your glyphs remained lit up even though you were unconscious. That’s quite the trick.”
Apparently Erberus was still ensuring that my magic remained active even if I wasn’t consciously able to do it. I’d have to thank him for that next time we spoke. Although as my hands were shackled with silver I couldn’t use my magic to get free, or attack someone. In fact, all I’d be able to do was use it to blast the ceiling apart, crushing everyone. Which, as far as escape attempts go, isn’t the best idea.
Remy was the only one of the four of us not shackled both hands and feet. His hands were manacled to the shackles on the floor He couldn’t go anywhere, but at least he was on the ground. It was a start.
“What happened?” I asked.
“They shot you with a manticore spine. Who the fuck owns a manticore? Why would anyone actually decide they want to keep one of those ugly fuckers?”
“I feel we’re getting off topic here,” I reminded him. “What. Happened?”
“Right, well you went to sleep and they dragged us all down here, but Ellie here woke up. Tore some guy’s arm off before they subdued her. By that point Alan and I had woken up, and they gave us all a kicking. Still, she tore some guy’s arm off, which was pretty badass of her. If we find it, and then find him, can we beat him to death with it?”
I stared at my fox friend for a moment. “I’d rather use something more . . . stable for bludgeoning someone to death, but sure, why not? How long have you been down here?”
/> “Few hours maybe. Not entirely sure.”
“Why are you awake and not them?”
“Oh, that’s an easy one. They got hit more than I did.”
That would do it. “Any idea how we’re meant to get out of here in one piece?”
“Well, they’ve sort of left me alone. They didn’t even bother to check if my manacles were the right size. They just figured, ‘He’s a fox, what the fuck is he going to do? Shed on us?’ I tell you, people always underestimate the fox-human hybrids.”
“You really need to put that in a newsletter. Send it around to everyone. Or you could get us the fuck out of here.”
“I could but . . .” he stopped and sniffed the air. “Shut up.” And he immediately pretended to be unconscious again.
“Oh, you’re awake, that’s pretty good news,” a young man said as he entered the room. He was about six feet tall, and well built. His hair was shaved close to his head, leaving just a little stubble, and he wore jeans and a shirt that was splattered with blood.
“You’re the SOA agent I grabbed by the scruff of his shirt outside the Williams house. I don’t remember your name.”
“My name is Richard.”
“Can I call you Dick? You look like a Dick.”
He punched me in the stomach. I coughed and spluttered.
“It’s helpful that your stomach is right at punching level,” he said.
“I got dick slapped,” I said with a laugh.
He hit me again, and the air was driven from me.
“Please stop, I can’t take being beaten up by someone called Dick.”
He hit me for a third time.
“You seem to have some issues with people calling you Dick,” I pointed out. “When you were younger, did you fall asleep and someone draw one on your face? Did they call you Dick Face? You can tell me, let the pain out.”
A fourth punch and I spat blood over the floor.
“You might have noticed that I’m not taking you very seriously,” I said. “I should point out that it’s because I’m not. You fucking arrogant little twat.”
“Maybe you’ll take me seriously now.”