‘But how?’
He leaned closer and placed his forehead very gently onto hers. She felt his warm breath on her skin. She closed her eyes and moved her head so that their lips brushed together. When she opened her eyes, Mal’s were staring into them. ‘I don’t know,’ he whispered.
Chapter Sixteen
Astrid had appreciated the wide entrance hall, plush reception area and thickly carpeted stairs, but Mary King’s office was something of a disappointment. She had expected a bit more decadence, a bit more va-va-voom, but the room was sleek and anonymous in shades of grey and pale blue. The receptionist was excellent, though; a young man with good teeth and an expensive-looking suit. He was ridiculously handsome, like a Hollywood actor, and Astrid wondered what little extra services he performed for his boss. She had enjoyed brushing past him as she walked into the office and made a mental note to pay a return visit when all this was sorted out.
Right now, however, Mary King was avoiding her question. Annoying.
‘Edward,’ Mary King said. ‘Bring us some coffee, darling.’
Edward opened his mouth as if to argue, giving Astrid another view of his outstanding dental work, then clearly thought better of it and nodded instead.
Obedient. Astrid could do with someone like that around. She sat on the only comfortable-looking item of furniture, a dark grey velvet sofa which was pushed against one wall like an afterthought.
Mary took the more businesslike chair behind her desk and steepled her fingers. The piercings in her face ought to have looked out of place with her business suit and the fancy office, but somehow they didn’t. ‘Is your lost friend like you?’
Astrid thought about her and Rose, spinning through the stars, surrounded by cosmic dust and swirling gas. She didn’t know how she would answer that question even if she was inclined to do so. ‘I need to find her urgently,’ she said instead.
‘You seem like a clever girl,’ Mary King said. ‘Why do you need my help?’
Astrid thought about Rose’s direct order: ‘Stay away from me.’ She had no choice but to obey, until Rose countermanded it, but she wasn’t about to tell Mary King that. ‘A man attacked us,’ Astrid said. ‘I’m assuming he was sent by one of the big players in this town. As far as I can tell that means you or Mr Pringle.’
Mary King didn’t answer. Her gaze was intense and Astrid felt a tickling as she tried to delve behind the surface.
‘You need help.’ Mary King leaned back in her chair, light glinting on her nose ring, and smiled. ‘Well, isn’t that a treat.’
The door swung open to reveal Edward with a tray. He put it on a side table and delivered a creamy-looking drink to Mary King.
Astrid was just about to say that she didn’t want coffee (she hated the stuff and didn’t know why any human would drink it in a world which contained hot chocolate), when Edward placed a delicate china cup onto the arm of the sofa. It was filled with creamy chocolate. The rich smell rising from it was intoxicating, and her hand reached out automatically to take it.
She lifted the cup to her lips but, just in time, her gaze flicked to Mary and saw that she was being watched with something that felt, suddenly, like hunger. She replaced the cup carefully on its saucer.
Mary King sat back, clearly disappointed. Then she arranged her face into an expression of concern. ‘When you say attacked…’
‘I just need to speak to Pringle. Assuming that you haven’t been stalking my girl yourself?’
‘No such luck,’ Mary King said. She closed her mouth straight after as if trying to stop herself from saying anything else.
‘Fabulous,’ Astrid said. There were all kinds of undercurrents in the room. Plans. Rivalries. A hunger for power that, had it not been directed at Astrid, she would have found admirable.
‘Does your friend have something valuable? Or is she in trouble of some kind?’ Mary King attempted an expression of concern. ‘I would be happy to help a nice girl like you. I don’t like to think of your friend out there alone, unprotected.’ She hesitated. ‘Is she very like you? You didn’t say.’
Astrid saw the naked avarice in Mary King’s face and another possibility fell into place. This Mary King creature had a little power. Maybe she could combine it with whatever Pringle had and that would be enough to help Astrid lock Rose back into her box. Keep her safely contained so that Astrid could get back to enjoying life. ‘Pringle,’ she said, allowing a little impatience to enter her voice. ‘Where might he reside?’
The struggle was clear on Mary King’s face.
‘Time’s a wasting,’ Astrid said, pushing a little extra oomph into her words.
‘I can bring him here,’ Mary King said, flashing the first genuine smile of their encounter. ‘It would be my pleasure.’
* * *
On a tiny island with a beach of pure white sand, Rose was waking up from a long, deep sleep. No, not just waking up; more than that. It was like being resurrected. Everything was clearer and brighter than before. She found her mind kicking into gear, turning over the information available. Her thoughts clear for the first time, as if the seaweed-tinged air had woken her up. ‘How many other girls have died?’
‘Two that I know of for sure,’ Mal said. ‘Pringle said he wanted you alive, though.’
‘That could be a lie,’ she said.
‘True, but the others were killed in situ, not brought to him.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Laura Moffat, killed in the pub where she worked. Françoise Hellier, doctor.’ Mal shrugged. ‘And I heard there were more.’
‘So, either I’m different for some reason, or they aren’t connected to your boss.’
Mal dug his hands into the white sand and lifted a handful, letting the grains fall back to the beach ‘Scotland’s a small place, and when you take out the mundane side it gets very small indeed.’
‘You don’t think it’s likely a coincidence, then?’
‘Nae chance,’ he said. ‘And Laura Moffat definitely had power. Pringle would have been drawn to that.’
‘Can we go to the police?’ Rose mimicked Mal’s action, digging her own hands into the soft sand. As if it might anchor her in a reality that made sense.
He pulled a face. ‘The link between the cases is supernatural, so no.’
‘Might there be more? Could we work out who is in danger and warn them?’
‘You are in danger,’ he said. ‘We need to worry about that right now.’
‘I am,’ she said, brushing the sand from her fingers. ‘But there’s plenty of room up here.’ She tapped her head. Then an awful thought hit her. Astrid. For a moment she couldn’t speak. Astrid was in Edinburgh. Alone. Unprotected. ‘What about Astrid?’
Mal’s face changed as comprehension dawned. ‘You said she took you to see a ghost.’
‘She spoke to it. That’s psychic, right? And she’s my best friend. If your boss knows about me, he knows about her. Oh God. Oh God.’
Mal was rooting through his pockets. He brought out a bundle of notes. ‘You take this. I think this is as good a place as any to hide out for a wee while. I’ll get the boat off the island and go to Edinburgh. I will find your friend, if I can. I promise.’
‘No.’ Rose was absolutely certain. ‘I’m coming with you.’
‘You can’t,’ he said. ‘Pringle controls the Sluagh and they don’t sleep or eat or stop. I can’t protect you. Hell.’ He ran a hand over his head. ‘You know that. If you hadn’t zapped us here, we would both be broken on the pavement.’
‘We will zap back,’ she said, standing up. ‘There isn’t time to travel any other way. He could have her already. She’s never left me this long. What if that’s why?’ She felt suddenly as if she would throw up.
‘You’ll be safer here,’ Mal said. ‘I’ll go.’
‘I’m not leaving her,’ she said.
He blew out a breath. ‘Fine.’ He began walking inland, toward the dunes.
Rose followed. ‘There isn’t time,’ she
said. Astrid was alone right now. Maybe the Sluagh had already found her. Maybe Pringle had her captive. Rose refused to contemplate the possibility that she was dead, that they were already too late.
Mal didn’t break stride. ‘That’s why I’m moving quickly.’
A vision from her dreams flashed into Rose’s mind. A figure looming over her, knife in hand, the knowledge that she was about to die coursing through her veins. She reached out and grabbed Mal’s wrist. ‘Let me try to move us.’
He stopped then. ‘I don’t think so. I’m sorry, but I don’t understand how you do it and that worries me. You don’t even know how you do it.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘But—’
‘What if we get split up?’
‘We’ll find each other.’
‘No. What if we get split into pieces?’
‘That’s pessimistic,’ she said, trying to make him smile. ‘Anyway, the real trouble is getting it to work. I couldn’t do it until we were falling.’
‘I’m not flinging myself off a cliff,’ he said.
The wind had sprung up, and it made Rose shiver. ‘Fair enough.’ She could feel the adrenaline surge waning. He was right. She didn’t know how to do anything. Each time she had used her so-called power it had been an accident.
‘Although,’ he said, hands on his hips and brow furrowed. ‘Perhaps there are other things we could try. If you’re certain you want to.’
‘I am,’ she said.
He moved so quickly that she almost didn’t have time to be surprised. One moment he was stood in front of her, scowling as he tried to work out the angles of their situation, and the next he had his hands on her waist and was pulling her hard against his body.
‘Oh.’ It was a small sound, instantly eclipsed by the feel of his lips on hers. Rose closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, letting her fingers find the back of his neck and the soft hair there. Salt air and male sweat mingled with a base note of something else, something she wasn’t sure she had ever encountered before. Pure Mal.
She felt him gasp a little as she kissed him back, giving it all she had, reaching up on tiptoe the better to press herself against him, to fit her body to his and her mouth to his. Her mind was singing and she felt the gaping sense of need and fear deep in her body get filled with something else.
He ran his hands over her back and hips, and lower, and she thought she might pass out from the pleasure of it. He broke the kiss, pulling back to look into her eyes. ‘Is this okay?’
His breathing was erratic and Rose knew that hers was exactly the same. ‘Don’t stop.’
Chapter Seventeen
In her townhouse in Edinburgh, Mary King had just finished making the call. When she looked up, Astrid had gone. Mary King felt instantly a little better, although she hadn’t heard her office door opening and shutting. She pushed that worrying realisation to one side and concentrated on preparing the office for her visitor. Her plan had not changed and Astrid’s arrival was simply an added bonus; if she was as strong as she seemed, Mary King wouldn’t even have to break a sweat. She could take the shine from Astrid and use it to pin down Pringle long enough to hoover up whatever he had left in the tank. And then she could go looking for Astrid’s little friend.
Pringle arrived on time. He was wearing a pink pastel jumper and beige chinos underneath a wax jacket. When he was sat in the office, a double-shot espresso on the desk in front of him, and the pleasantries had been dispensed with, Mary cut to the chase. ‘I know where your girl is,’ she said, enjoying the flicker of desire which crossed his face. Not his real face, of course, but the human one he was wearing.
He didn’t move. ‘Is that so?’
‘And you won’t get her. You need to drop out of the race.’
‘I have that in hand,’ he said.
‘You have Mal Fergusson following her around town like a puppy,’ Mary King said. ‘Not the same thing.’
‘He is bringing her to me,’ Pringle said. ‘But why this is any of your business, I don’t quite understand. We’ve had a long and profitable relationship in this city by not getting in each other’s way. You don’t want to jeopardize that now, trust me.’
Mary King allowed herself to smile. This was what living was all about, small moments of true pleasure. ‘She’s not what you think,’ she said by way of an opening, but before she could continue, another voice spoke, cutting across Mary King and sending a vibration of energy through the room.
‘She’s off limits.’
Pringle turned at the sound of this new voice and Mary King drank in the sight of his discomfort. She was the one holding all the cards, she was the one with the friends in high places. Or, more accurately, powerful friends in low places. The tiny blonde girl had not been visible a moment before and now she stood in front of Pringle, regarding him coolly. That kind of glamour took serious shine, more than the glimmer Mary King had been able to see. Her mouth was dry with anticipation.
‘Do you know who I am, little girl?’ Pringle said. His voice was strong and even, but his face betrayed his concern. He was scrambling, Mary King was certain, trying to work out who Astrid was. He couldn’t be missing the power that shone from Astrid and was probably trying to work out how he could use her too. How he could acquire her. Mary King felt her smile widen. That, she would like to see. Mary King was going to wait until Astrid was off guard and gobble her up in the blink of an eye. That was the only safe way to tackle a predator that was bigger than yourself. Better yet, Pringle might have a go and weaken Astrid. Then Mary King could feast at her leisure.
‘Rose is my charge,’ Astrid said. ‘She isn’t an object for you to acquire.’
‘We can do a deal.’ Pringle licked his lips. ‘There’s always a deal.’
Astrid put her head on one side. ‘You sent the boy, didn’t you?’
‘No harm meant.’ Pringle spread his hands wide. ‘I can call him off just as quickly.’
‘Leave her be,’ Astrid said.
‘Done,’ Pringle said. ‘As soon as we agree the terms.’ He smiled as if he still thought he was in control of the conversation.
‘And the other girls too,’ Astrid said.
‘What other girls?’ Pringle sat forward and Mary King realised that she had mirrored the movement. Others like Rose? Like this Astrid? The thought was deliciously exciting.
‘The others,’ Astrid said, a note of impatience in her voice. ‘Mal Fergusson has been snuffing them out. It’s inconvenient and I want it to stop.’
‘There are others like Rose?’ Pringle said. ‘That’s interesting, but I assure you it is entirely new information.’
Astrid was staring at him. After a moment she said, ‘You are telling the truth.’
‘Of course,’ he said smoothly.
‘You didn’t kill them?’
He smiled a little, and Mary King, who had seen a thousand evil things and crushed them all beneath her red stiletto heels, suppressed a shudder. ‘You will have to be more specific, babydoll.’
‘The things like Rose,’ Astrid said slowly.
He shook his head. ‘I swear upon the city.’
‘Bugger,’ Astrid said.
‘I’m sure I can be of help to you,’ Pringle said. ‘If it is information you need, or protection—’
Astrid stepped up and touched his cheek. ‘Shush, pet,’ she said, and the thing which called itself Pringle, and had walked the streets of Edinburgh in one guise or another for over three hundred years, crumpled to the floor. It was over so quickly that Mary King didn’t have time to enjoy it, which was a shame, and the pile of ash and bone which spilled from the pale pink cashmere sweater was going to leave a horrible mark on her antique rug.
‘Now,’ Astrid said, turning a bright smile onto Mary King. ‘Let’s talk about those other girls, shall we? Have you been messing with my stuff?’
Mary King wanted to stand up but her legs suddenly felt weak. Truth was, the small blonde girl no longer seemed to be any of those
things, and Mary King felt something she hadn’t felt in a very long time: pure fear.
* * *
Hannah woke up to the sound of a dust cart being dragged along the street outside her building. There was shouting, some kind of argument, but she couldn’t hear clearly enough to know what it was about. It might not even have been an argument. Sometimes, especially when she was still half asleep, she mistook enthusiasm for aggression or sadness for excitement. Even after four years in Alexandria, she could still feel like a tourist on a day trip to the pyramids.
It was Saturday but she dragged herself to the tiny bathroom to wash and get ready. Saturday was one of the busiest days at the international school and she had back-to-back classes until Asr, the mid-afternoon prayers. There was a small mirror propped on a shelf in the bedroom and she used it to apply her eyeliner, staring at her reflection without really seeing, only concentrating on the thick black line. With her black hair and tanned skin, she could pass for a local, and it made everything that bit easier if she did. The kids still tried to sell her stuff, of course, but she could swat them away for minutes at a time. When she had first arrived, and hadn’t yet shaken the tourist vibe, walking down the streets had been like wading through a primary school playground. She’d had five kids hanging off each finger, each with a story to tell or a knotted leather bracelet to sell, and another three trying to pick her pocket.
Her building was on a narrow backstreet, the heat of the sun kept mainly away by the tall walls that enclosed it. The slice of sky was bright white, and she braced herself before joining the main thoroughfare, ready for the onslaught of summer sun. Even at seven in the morning, it was scorching through her white long-sleeved top and the scarf she wore over her head. She stopped at the hole-in-the-wall bakery. The guy lifting trays of sweet-smelling baklava gave her a thumbs up and an extra pastry. ‘Too thin.’ He shook his head. ‘You work too hard, I think.’
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