‘Hmm. You trust her?’
‘I guess,’ I said. ‘At least . . . I did. I didn’t have any reason not to.’
‘Until le chien gargantuan.’
I shifted uncomfortably on the spot. ‘It doesn’t . . . I didn’t tell her my route. And . . .’
She said that Lauren said no . . . she must have known I’d go instead . . .
Maybe . . .
‘I’m sure she couldn’t have,’ I said, although I was surprised how unsure I sounded. ‘She wouldn’t . . . Jesus, I haven’t got a clue.’
‘Maybe someone fed her the info,’ said Daryl. ‘Hoped that it would somehow get back to you or Eddie or Connor and that you’d fall into the trap.’
‘She was reluctant to tell us how she found Lauren,’ I said. ‘But she . . . no. She’s on the level, I’m sure she is. We—’
‘Stanly,’ said Daryl, ‘I have a feeling that things are about to take a pretty extreme detour up shit creek. And we’ve got fans instead of paddles.’
‘Fans?’
‘’Cos, you know. Shit hitting the fan. And being up shit creek with no paddle.’ Daryl shook his head. ‘What I’m trying to say is that shit’s getting real, and I need you to think at Defcon 1. Don’t trust what you think you know.’ That almost made me laugh, because if I couldn’t even pick up on the fan/paddle joke, it seemed unlikely that I was going to be much use at thinking, generally.
‘Should I trust you, then?’ I said, staring him in the face.
Daryl nodded. ‘Yes. Now, either someone sent Old Bluer after you, which, hey, let’s not rule it out entirely, or London’s monster problem is getting worse, which, hey, also not fantastic news. We’re going to need to be careful. Personally I’d advise not going back to Sharon and Connor’s just yet, in case.’
‘In case?’
‘If someone did set up this mutant Crufts routine, they’ll most probably be watching the house. If you come back in one piece they might move to whatever their plan B is. Based on plan A, I’d file plan B away under “eminently skippable”. If you don’t come back, they’ll hopefully assume you’ve been taken out, and that’ll buy us more time.’
‘What if they move in on Connor and Sharon and Eddie now that I’m gone?’
‘They can take care of themselves,’ said Daryl.
‘They’re my friends . . . my family,’ I said, charging the word with as much venom as I could muster. Anger felt better than numb with an edge of panic. ‘I’m not going to abandon them to be chewed up by hellhounds or whatever else is prowling around this city. I’m not going to hide.’
You were perfectly happy to go against their wishes and sneak off. You’ve even started thinking about where else you could live.
Shut up, brain. Being righteously angry right now please, thanks.
‘Stanly,’ said Daryl. ‘I understand how you must be feeling . . .’
‘Oh, really?’
‘Yes. And I’m asking you to bury it, Romeo. It’s a particularly misshapen chaos but you have to understand that I intend to keep you alive. And in order to do that, I need you to trust me. There are a lot of issues between us, I get that, and we’ll address them when we have the time. Until then, I’m afraid you’re going to have to lump it, boss.’
I didn’t answer for a moment. I wanted to trust him. If I’m honest, I wanted to forget everything that had gone wrong between us. I didn’t even want to talk about it. I wanted my friend back.
But he was right about one thing: I needed to think at Defcon 1. ‘How did you find me?’ I asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean what I said. Seems a helluva coincidence, you being on hand to rescue me.’
‘You’re telling me,’ said Daryl. ‘I was . . . nearby.’
‘Once more with me feeling more convinced.’
Daryl laughed ruefully. ‘OK. I was looking for you, actually.’
‘Yeah? Why?’
‘Well I saw those swish new promo vids that you filmed,’ said Daryl. ‘I thought they were pretty cool and that you must be on to something big, wondered if there might be a slice for a roguishly handsome four-legged fella.’
I couldn’t help it; I cracked up. So did he. It felt better than anger. ‘So you were following me,’ I said. ‘Covertly.’
‘When you put it like that, it sounds so unethical.’
‘It is what you were doing, though?’
‘Ish.’
‘You could have jumped in a bit earlier, in that case.’
‘I said ish,’ said Daryl. ‘I was staying pretty far back. Didn’t want to risk you seeing me yet.’
‘All right . . . well, we’ll get to the ethics of that later.’ I paused for a second. ‘OK, it’s later. Don’t follow me covertly.’
‘Yes, boss,’ said Daryl. ‘Imagine me saluting.’
‘Right,’ I said, ‘now we’re going to carry on, and we’re going to find this girl Lauren.’
‘Let me see the address again,’ said Daryl. I showed him, and he nodded. ‘Cool. My inner DavNav tells me—’
‘DavNav?’
‘Just go with it. It tells me that we’re nearby, but I think we should take a roundabout route. In case we’re being followed. Sound like a plan?’
‘Plan-shaped.’
I pulled my hood up and we started to walk. ‘So what have you been doing for a year?’ I said. ‘Wandering around killing monsters? Are you Daryl, rogue demon hunter, now?’
‘What’s a rogue demon?’ We laughed, and Daryl shook his head. ‘Not really. Left London for a while. Drifted, not at all sure of what the hell to do. Then I decided to come back.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I knew you’d be screwed on an epic scale without me, obviously.’
I laughed. ‘Yeah, whatever.’ It felt good to laugh with him again, it felt right, but I had too many questions to just coast on happy feelings. ‘Who’s Morter Smith?’
‘Morter Smith?’ Daryl looked surprised. ‘He’s Angel Group. I don’t know him personally, we never crossed paths . . . why?’
‘He wants to kill me, apparently. He sent the assassin after me. The guy on the bus.’ I filled Daryl in on what little we knew about Masters, and what even littler we knew about Smith.
‘Jesus,’ he said.
‘Yeah, it’s weird. For a year there’s been nothing, then suddenly out of nowhere there’s this guy Morter Smith and he’s taking out a contract on me.’
Daryl shook his head. ‘Weird indeed.’
‘A bit.’ My breath was coming in hot clouds, the cold night like bitter silk around me.
‘Suggests to me that maybe someone did send that dog after you,’ said Daryl. ‘Someone like Smith.’
A d’oh the size of a small asteroid pancaked me in the face. ‘Jesus. Have I always been incredibly dense?’
‘You have your moments.’
‘It’s just, you’d think that during a discussion of someone possibly wanting to kill me with a giant monster, a name might have immediately occurred, i.e. the name of a person who I definitely know wants to kill me, who has actually already tried once.’
‘Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it. Sometimes humans are incredibly stupid.’
My phone rang. Someone seemed to have tampered with the volume and made it roughly fifty billion times louder than usual, and we both jumped. Daryl laughed. ‘Wow. Check us out. Baddest of the bad.’
I looked at the screen. ‘It’s Nailah. Girl who gave me the tip. Should I answer?’
Daryl attempted a shrug.
‘Sod it.’ I answered. ‘Hello?’
‘Stanly, it’s Nailah.’
‘Hi Nailah, what—’
‘I’m guessing you’re on your way to Lauren’s?’
‘Yeah. How—’
‘Don’t go tonight,
OK? Don’t go.’
‘What? Why?’
‘You’re being followed. The Angel Group is all over that business with the dog, and they’ve got eyes on you. You’ll lead them straight to her.’
‘How the hell do you know—’
‘Sorry, gotta go. I’ll call again when I can. But the Angel Group doesn’t know about Lauren, and as discussed, I really don’t think it’s a great idea to lead them straight to her, do you?’
‘No, but—’
‘Gotta go, sorry.’ She hung up, and I looked down at Daryl.
‘Curious?’ he asked, his head on one side.
‘As a fox,’ I said. ‘A fox who’s just been made Professor of Curious at Oxford University, and is also starting to get pretty pissed off about being kept in the dark. We can’t go to Lauren’s, is the upshot of that. So . . . screw it, the Angel Group knows where we live anyway. Might as well go home . . .’
‘Have a nice cold pint and wait for all this to blow over?’
‘Yep,’ I said. ‘Or at least, get some rest and try to come up with a plan tomorrow.’
Daryl nodded. ‘OK . . . well . . . I guess I can find somewhere to—’
‘Don’t be thick, you’re coming home with me.’ We stared at each other for the duration of an awkward pause. ‘OK,’ I said. ‘Imagine that I phrased that in an old-friend-helping-out-an-old-friend way, rather than a pushy-guy-propositioning-a-woman-in-a-bar-way.’
‘Cool.’ We walked on, and after a brief and very loud silence Daryl spoke again. ‘So. How’ve you been?’
A pause. ‘Fine, thanks.’ Another pause. ‘You?’
‘Not bad.’
More silence. ‘Daryl,’ I said.
‘Stanly.’
‘You know monsters?’
‘I do.’
‘Where do they come from?’
‘Underground. As far as I can tell.’
‘Ah. Anywhere in particular underground?’
‘Wish I knew, boss.’
‘OK.’ Pause. ‘Daryl?’
‘Stanly.’
‘You know Tara?’
‘I do.’
‘She’s my daughter. From the future.’
Daryl put his head on one side. ‘Your daughter from the future.’
‘Yeah. Apparently future me brought her back in time to protect her from some great danger.’
Daryl moved his head back to its usual angle. A pause. ‘Fair play,’ he said. Another pause. ‘Remind me to remind you to check the lottery numbers before you bring her back.’
About a mile from home, my phone rang again. I took it out, fully expecting to see Nailah’s number again . . . but this time it was a name.
Sharon.
The bottom fell out of my stomach. ‘Uh-oh.’
‘What?’ asked Daryl.
‘I think the technical term is “busted”.’ I took a deep breath and answered the call. ‘Hello?’
‘Where are you?’ Her voice was so cold. It made my stomach twist.
‘I’m nearly home. Sharon—’
‘We’ll see you soon then. You might as well come in through the front door.’
‘OK, see you . . .’ But she was already gone. I looked at Daryl. ‘You might want to reconsider coming back with me. This isn’t going to be much fun.’
‘I’ll stick with you, if that’s all right,’ said Daryl. ‘Hey, maybe my incredible oozing charm will help to smooth things over.’
‘Chance would be a fine thing.’
The last part of the walk felt like a death march. Incredibly, I’d pretty much forgotten about the giant monster dog that had tried to kill me. I felt like this was going to be worse. We walked up the path in solemn silence, and my key was inches from the door when it opened. Connor was standing there wearing a vest, pyjama trousers, fluffy werewolf slippers and an expression that could have meant anything. ‘Hi,’ I said.
He nodded, and glanced down at the beagle. No surprise registered on his face. ‘Daryl.’
‘Hey Connor,’ said Daryl, breezily. ‘Long time no see. How are things?’
‘Been better,’ said Connor. He looked at me. ‘Where’d you find him?’
‘Out and about,’ I said. ‘He helped me with something . . . can he come in?’
‘I guess so,’ said Connor. ‘If we’re all forgetting about that massive betrayal that happened.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Daryl. ‘I can stay out here, or go somewhere else, or something . . .’
Connor shook his head and rolled his eyes. ‘Get in here, both of you.’
We walked past, down the hall to the kitchen. Sharon was sitting at the table in her dressing gown, staring at an untouched cup of tea. Everything bright about her seemed to have dimmed, her blue eyes had frosted over. ‘Sharon,’ I said.
‘Sit down, Stanly,’ she said, softly. I did. Connor was standing by the door with his arms folded. Sharon looked down at Daryl. ‘Daryl. This is a surprise.’
‘Hi Sharon,’ said Daryl, remaining admirably cheerful. ‘It’s good to see you. How are you?’
‘Not terribly great, I’m afraid,’ said Sharon. She turned back to me. ‘The police were just here.’
I frowned. ‘The police? Why? What did they want?’
‘They said they were police, at any rate,’ said Sharon. ‘They were plain clothes. Unmarked car.’
‘Angel Group,’ said Daryl.
‘Very possibly,’ said Sharon. ‘They wanted to know where Mr Freeman is.’
My frown became a black hole that swallowed my entire face and regurgitated it as a Dali-esque melted clock version of itself. ‘Mr Freeman? As in . . .’
‘As in Mr Freeman,’ said Sharon. ‘He’s alive, apparently.’
Talk about a sledgehammer to the brain. ‘How the . . . what? What the . . . how is . . .’ I trailed off, unable to correctly construct the remainder of the question.
‘That was our reaction,’ said Sharon. ‘These people seemed convinced that we . . . and more specifically you . . . know where he is.’
I looked at Daryl. ‘Did you—’
Daryl shook his head vigorously. ‘Not a clue, chief, I swear.’
‘How could he be alive?’
‘I don’t know,’ said the dog. ‘Seriously. It’s . . . I mean, I wouldn’t put it past him, he’s the slipperiest, most unpredictable, conniving sonofabitch I’ve ever met. Worked with him for years, never knew anything beyond what he wanted to tell me . . .’
‘Could he be empowered?’ I said.
Daryl shook his head. ‘No. Definitely not. I’d have known.’
‘Anyway,’ said Sharon, bringing us abruptly to attention. ‘They wanted to speak with you. I said that you were fast asleep upstairs, more of which later, and that I was not going to wake you up for this. Then Connor told them in no uncertain terms what would happen if they tried to come in without a warrant.’
I chanced a look in Connor’s direction. Still, his face betrayed nothing.
‘Their parting words were quite interesting,’ said Sharon. ‘They suggested I ask you where you’d been tonight, and said that they would be back.’
Balls.
‘Where were you?’ she asked.
Wow. Have I ever had a telling-off from my actual mum that felt this bad?
I explained as quickly as possible. Nailah’s information, going to find Lauren. I decided to leave Skank’s name out of it. No need to overcomplicate things. The monster dog won me a few points, with Sharon’s old warm concern returning. Even Connor’s inscrutable mask fell briefly, and we transferred to the living room to see if there was anything on the news. Not a great deal, as it turned out. No reporters were allowed within a hundred feet of the site, which had already been closed off and surrounded by police and what looked like military trucks, and the body itsel
f was enclosed within a huge white fabric dome. There were biohazard symbols everywhere. The official story seemed to be that something had escaped from an animal testing facility. Mercifully, my name didn’t come up. ‘Seems fishy,’ said Daryl. ‘There were plenty of witnesses.’
‘Let’s just count ourselves lucky,’ said Sharon. ‘You particularly, Stanly. I wouldn’t want to be the one to break that extra bit of good news to Eddie.’
Eddie.
Oh my furious Christ.
Please can he never be told anything ever.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, fighting the urge to act the penitent child, to stare at my shoes and mumble, hoping for mercy. It had been my decision to make. They were perfectly within their rights to be angry with me. If tonight was the night that they decided to kick me out of their house, then that was what would happen. But I’d decided to go, and I was going to stand up and take whatever came at me as a result.
‘I just can’t believe that after our conversation this morning, you’d go straight out again,’ said Sharon.
‘I needed to go,’ I said. ‘I have to . . . I have to be involved. I’m sorry, I know what I said to you, I know that I broke your rules. I’m sorry. But I couldn’t not go. I couldn’t not get involved. And I didn’t tell you about it because I knew you didn’t want to be—’
It takes a lot of strength to knock a heavy wooden door off its hinges, and it makes a loud noise. Sharon, Daryl and I all jumped, our eyes flying to the living room door, which was now in the hall on its side. Connor had his back to us. His fists were clenched. He was shaking.
Nobody said anything forever.
‘You didn’t tell us because you knew we didn’t want to be involved,’ said Connor, finally. It didn’t seem physically possible for his voice to have gone so low, so deep. It rippled at the edges. ‘Really.’
‘Really,’ I said, my voice a plaintive, kittenish mew in comparison.
Connor nodded slowly. He picked up the door and leaned it against the wall, and turned to me. ‘Well the problem with that, Stanly, is that not telling us about something doesn’t actually mean not getting us involved.’ He looked like not going completely mental was taking an unreasonable amount of energy. I’d never felt so scared of someone wearing fluffy slippers. ‘Not doing something would actually be a better option. Because now we’ve got people knocking on our door, demanding to talk to you. People who know we’re lying to them.’
Ace of Spiders Page 11