Chemist slapped Eden on the back, guiding him away moments later.
Eden sent one more glance over his shoulder, first at Pummel, then at Homer, with eyes that remained unreadable.
Pummel held back, Homer taking the hint to do the same.
‘I don’t trust him,’ Homer said as soon as they were out of earshot.
‘Nor do I,’ Pummel remarked. ‘Which is why I’d rather keep him close.’
‘Why do I get the feeling this is about more than that?’
‘You saw what he brought back from that list. He’s got contacts. Good contacts. And he’s smooth – real smooth.’
‘Are you saying what I think you are?’
‘He could be useful, Homer.’
‘If you want to let anyone in on that, it needs to be Chemist and Dice first. Not some new boy.’
‘I’m not talking about telling him. Not yet. But distributing those pups out is going to take the right kind of specialist skills. Those lycan dogs get one whiff of their scent, and we’re all dead.’
‘Which is why he needs to stay out of it.’
‘Maybe. Or maybe we’ve struck gold with him. I need to think whilst we give him a few hours off for now. After tonight, he’s earned that much.’
22
Wrapped in the cold night air, Jessie exhaled a white mist against the dark backdrop of the courtyard. She rested her head back against the wall, her hands clenched against it. Her heart still pounded, the ground wavering at her feet.
She shouldn’t have been so shocked, but actually seeing the young, hearing what they had to say, was barely comprehensible.
It had taken a while to get the information out of them – all as alarmed by the glow they would have seen around her as by their containment. A glow that was only detectable to the third species.
But the little blonde girl who had futilely spread her arms to protect the rest of her pack, who had glared at her with a mix of fear, suspicion and resentment, had eventually told her what she’d needed to know.
Jessie had lowered herself to her haunches. ‘I’m Jesca,’ she’d said. ‘Jessie. And I’m not here to hurt you.’
The little blonde girl’s attention had darted around the cellar, as if expecting her not to remain alone for long.
‘Don’t worry, I’m on my own,’ Jessie had assured her. ‘I heard your whispers. What are you doing here?’
The little girl had pushed herself away from the rest of the group, despite a tiny hand grabbing her wrist as if warning her to stay away. She’d freed herself nonetheless, her wary eyes locked on Jessie’s the entire time.
‘I know what you are,’ the little girl had eventually said, once she’d finished scrutinising her. ‘Though I’ve never seen one before.’
‘Then you know I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name?’
The little girl’s eyes had narrowed in suspicion again. ‘Tuly.’
‘Tuly, how did you get here?’
‘We were taken.’
‘Taken?’
She’d nodded.
‘By who?’ Jessie had asked.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Are your parents rogues?’ Jessie had asked.
It had been a logical question. Rogues were those banished from Jask Tao’s protection in the compound where the lycans in Blackthorn resided. No lycan young would ever be taken from under their leader’s nose. No one would dare even attempt it.
But Tuly had frowned deeply as if Jessie had uttered the worst insult possible. ‘My father is Corbin Saylen. You and your friends are dead when he finds us here.’
Jessie’s stomach had jolted. For a moment, she’d stopped breathing again.
It explained why Tuly had taken on leadership of the group, despite being one of the smallest. Corbin Saylen, Jask’s beta, was the second most lethal lycan in Blackthorn. It explained her poise, her bravery. But it didn’t explain how the hell Pummel had got her out from the irrefutable security at the compound.
The most gut-wrenching thing of all though, the same thing that squeezed the life breath out of her as she now stood flat against the courtyard wall, was the realisation of what their presence there really meant.
‘I know of Corbin,’ Jessie had said back in the cellar, trying to relax the little girl. ‘He’s quite the warrior. So is your pack leader. I’ve no doubt they would tear us all apart if they found you here.’
Tuly had lifted her chin a little, revelling in the praise of the power of her pack – a pack she was clearly as deeply proud to be a part of as every other lycan under Jask’s leadership. The flattery had also appeased her. More so, it had given her the courage to keep talking.
Jessie had glanced across at the nine crates discarded against the wall. It all suddenly fell into place, but she needed confirmation. ‘How long have you been here?’
Tuly shrugged. ‘Two nights, I think.’
‘All of you?’
Tuly nodded.
Jessie scanned the frightened, watchful eyes. ‘You’re all from Jask’s pack?’
Tuly nodded again.
‘How did they get you?’
She could only think they had been taken off the street somehow. The young rarely ventured outside of the compound from what she’d heard. No young were ever seen on the streets of Blackthorn, not least lycans. Jask was painfully protective over his pack, let alone his young. There could have been some kind of trickery involved. Maybe Tuly had been snatched straight out of the hands of her mother. Though from what she had heard of Solstice, she was a force to be reckoned with too. If something had happened to her in the process as well, if she was being held elsewhere, then hell surely was going to break loose when Jask and Corbin found out.
‘He’s going to sell us.’ Tuly had announced it like the confession of some secret she could no longer keep inside. It was edged with a fear that plunged deep into Jessie’s core.
‘Who is?’
‘The con with the mallet on his neck.’
It was exactly as she had suspected. Her stomach had wrenched, fury had burned in her chest. ‘Is that what he said?’
Tuly had nodded again. Only that time, her faced had scrunched up, the back of her hand slamming to her eye as she’d started to cry.
Jessie’s instinct had been to reach forward and comfort her, but the cage had remained a divide; bars she didn’t dare relinquish yet – not until she knew what the hell she was going to do. Because though every instinct had yelled for her to free them, she knew it was anything but that simple.
To her relief, a couple of the others had warily crept forward to comfort Tuly instead.
‘Hey,’ Jessie had said softly, clutching the bars. ‘It’s okay. I’m just trying to understand how this has happened. Do you remember how they got you?’
‘They stormed the compound,’ one of the other young had said.
‘Who did?’
‘Soldiers,’ Tuly had replied, drawing Jessie’s attention back to her as she’d dried her eyes, the grit determination back.
It had been the last response she’d expected. ‘Soldiers?’
Tuly had nodded.
‘Not cons?’
She’d shaken her head.
‘You’re telling me soldiers took you straight out of the compound?’
She’d nodded again.
Tuly had seemed adamant, but it made no sense.
‘What were they wearing?’ Jessie had asked.
‘Black. Helmets with visors. Silver collars.’
The only ones she’d heard of that wore anything similar were the TSCD’s Curfew Enforcement Officers – but they stuck to the Blackthorn-Lowtown border; they had no place in Blackthorn itself. If there had been some kind of breach, she would have overheard about it. This was no army she’d heard of or knew of.
Now, leaning against the wall in the courtyard, Jessie cupped her mouth as she stared up at the night sky. This was why it had all started again. The visions that had been re-evoked were no longer a premonitio
n of decades into the future as she had hoped: the darkness had already begun. Those lycan young were the proof. Those lycan young were the missing link to what had previously made no sense.
She needed to remind herself of what she had seen. More so, she hoped she’d prove her fears wrong.
She hurried left through the courtyards, needing to get to the lock-up, to her secret chamber.
For now, she’d had no choice but to leave the young behind, to warn them not to speak of her visit should Pummel, or anyone else, see them before she next did. It had wrenched her heart seeing their terrified eyes as they saw she was leaving them, but neither could she assure them with false promises they’d be okay, as much as she’d desperately wanted to.
Because she couldn’t let them go, not yet – not with the implications so potentially catastrophic. Besides, there was no way she could let them go out onto the streets of Blackthorn alone, to find their way home, to potentially run into a fate equally as bad as whatever Pummel had intended. They were lycan – fast, nimble, tough and smart little things, no doubt having been trained effectively from an even younger age by Jask – but they were still just kids. And they were still in the midst of evil central, miles away from home.
Her chest burned, her throat tight. Fists clenched in fury by her sides, thoughts of confronting Pummel when he got back consumed her. Because she knew exactly what Pummel had planned for them, and if she could have killed him for even considering it, she knew she wouldn’t have given a fuck about what happened to her as a consequence. If she had been physically able to retaliate, she would have ripped his heart out.
It had been the toughest thing she’d ever done resealing that trapdoor, those padlocks. But she had to think. She had to get focused. She’d have maybe three or four days to work something out. Pummel would want to make the most of the new moon probably, so would want them shipped out during a safe window. In that case, he’d most likely play it safe and try and sell them on in the next couple of days. That was the timeframe she’d work to.
Eden.
He flashed into her mind despite her raging thoughts.
Because of her raging thoughts.
She couldn’t get across Blackthorn, but he could – he who wanted her to do him a favour.
The prospect of mentioning her suspicions had seemed treacherous before, for her and the young. But things had changed between them, not least in those last minutes before he’d left her in his room. And if hurting her didn’t come easy to him, then surely nine vulnerable young lycans would be even more difficult to harm?
Or as sense, as experience, dictated, he would gladly take them off her hands – and deliver them straight into those of someone who would make him very, very wealthy as a result.
And she would have been responsible for it.
Because maybe that’s why she knew Eden’s face before she’d even met him. Eden was somehow a part of all this. Eden whom she knew had also seen the crates being delivered, whose timely appearance had coincided with their arrival.
She stopped and clenched her head, trying to clear it. She did need to see the pictures again. She needed to look for clues. She needed some kind of sign as to what the hell she should do.
She slipped through the gap in the wall, glanced left down to the main road to check all was clear, before cutting across the back of the alley. She almost reached the mesh door when she stilled, sensing she was no longer alone.
‘Well, well,’ a voice said from behind. ‘What do we have here?’
She turned to face him – him and two others.
She had checked left down the alley but not right: not around the dark recess that led to where she’d hidden the bodies two nights before. Rarely was anybody ever there, but she still always took a cautionary check.
She heard the clunk and squeak of metal as three pairs of heavy male footsteps descended the fire escape behind her. From the abandoned shop roof, they would have seen her in the courtyard, moving around in the moonlight. The others must have made it down before she’d reached the alley, had hidden from sight as they planned an ambush.
She’d never made that mistake before.
She’d been particularly guarded since the attempted kidnap just a couple of weeks before. But this was different – they’d shot some kind of sedative into her from a distance, whoever they were. These were definitely cons, and they weren’t so subtle.
‘Looks like we’re not going to have a wasted trip after all,’ the one who had first spoken added, grinning at the leader of the three who came down the steps behind her.
Jessie held her position but turned side-on to both, so she could keep all six in the corner of her eyes. She steadied her breathing and braced herself. If she attacked, it was always by taking them by surprise. Never, not since the day Pummel took her guardianship, had she faced a waiting crowd.
That day she had failed.
Just like she had failed to take down Eden.
But with him it had been different. As she scanned each of these eyes in turn, she knew they intended to hurt her. These cons wanted to play in a whole other way. These cons had nothing to lose but a night of free entertainment, maybe even days of it to follow.
‘Perfect,’ the leader from the steps said. ‘Nice one, Stan.’
Her skin crawled as his gaze lingered on her chest, revealing all his tobacco-stained teeth as he flashed a fetid smile. Her only iota of relief was that she had changed clothing since being in Eden’s room. She was back in her capri trousers and T-shirt instead of the dress that had, at the time, been exciting to feel sexy in. Because that was with Eden. Eden who never looked at her like they did, not even that very first night when he’d cornered her in the lock-up. Even back then, she’d felt no fear of him. She never felt afraid of Eden – only of herself, of the way she felt when she was with him.
‘You need to walk away,’ she said, indignation giving her the spark she needed to counteract her fear; anger still swimming deep in her veins having already had a gutful of cons who thought it was okay to abuse, torture and degrade anything more vulnerable than them.
But vulnerable she was not. Vulnerable she would never be. Not in any way she would let them see.
‘And ruin hours of entertainment?’ Stan remarked, recapturing her attention.
‘You’re not from this row, are you?’ Do you know who this row belongs to?’
‘Pummel, yeah. Old school. Like I give a fuck. My row’s branching out, which makes it your lucky night. I had to have my last pet put down on account of her failing all her obedience lessons. So I’m needing me a new one.’
Her insides tightened as his cold eyes took in every inch of her.
‘After we’ve all had ourselves a test drive first,’ he added.
Jessie clenched her fists. She braced herself as they formed a slow, sauntering semi-circle in front of her. ‘This is a really bad idea,’ she warned.
Stan laughed. He looked at the leader from the other group. ‘You hear that, Travis? Are you getting the feeling this is going to be worth the effort?’
Travis rubbed his hand under his nose as he sniffed, then back over his shaved head in a move than felt uncomfortably erratic. ‘If she’s planning on fighting back, I’m definitely in.’
Bile burned the back of her throat. Lips dry to her teeth, she flexed her hands, knowing she’d have to take down either Stan or Travis first to make the rest think twice. She doubted they would.
‘It’s just a bit of fun, sweet thing,’ Stan said in an irritatingly mocking, soothing tone. He stopped less than a foot away. ‘All you need to do is relax and enjoy it. If you don’t, you’re going to get Travis here all worked up. You don’t want to get hurt now, do you? Get that pretty face all messed up.’
Her glare locked on Stan’s, locked on the thirty-something’s icy, calculating blue eyes as she kept half her attention on Travis closing in from the side of her.
Stan’s hand reaching for her breast was all she needed to stop caring about cons
equences. Before he got within an inch of her, she locked her hands on either side of his head and forcibly twisted.
In the cold night air, Stan slumped dead to the floor a split second later.
It was quicker and more painless than she would have liked, but the job was done.
The others froze as if not comprehending what had just happened.
The second Travis flinched into action, she slammed her elbow straight into his face with enough force to splinter his nose. He fell to his knees, giving Jessie the chance to send an even more severe blow between his legs. He bucked with an agonising scream, grabbing his groin as expletives spat from his mouth. She silenced him with a sideways kick hard into his throat.
She scanned the others snatching their attention between Stan’s dead body and Travis now a crumpled heap.
‘What the fuck?’ one of them hissed quietly.
Eyes ignited in anger, self-righteous in indignation, they all came at her at once.
She dodged more than one punch, a kick, wrestled out of a weak grab, before ramming an elbow, then a knee, and then her fist into whatever flesh she could reach. Grabbed around the neck, she used it to her advantage – used him to take her weight as she kicked another hard between the legs, and yet another in the face. Wrapping one hand around his hairy forearm to loosen the con’s chokehold, she slammed her hand against his thigh, sending a static spark through him. The con jolted back several feet, releasing her in his shock.
She knew she shouldn’t have done it. Knew she needed to stick to regular attack in case any of them got away. Her strength alone would be raising questions, let alone the white spark of electric shocks she could generate from her fingertips.
It meant she now couldn’t backtrack. She couldn’t let any of them escape.
The other three were already more wary, angling themselves in her blind spots, working as the sick pack that they were as they moved into position.
‘She’s not even fucking human,’ one of them spat out. ‘Fucking filthy third species.’
Blood Deep (Blackthorn Book 4) Page 24