by J. B. Thomas
Now she knew why he leaned back in the chair like a man perfectly comfortable in his surroundings, as if he owned everything around him.
Come to think of it: they all had that look.
Andras rested his arm on the back of Grace’s chair. ‘Excuse me.’ He reached across her, brushing his hand over her arm as he reached for the drink bottle.
‘He may look like the consummate company man,’ Andras murmured. ‘But Mammon’s hobby on the side is hunting monsters.’
Mammon tutted. ‘Don’t tease them.’
Grace shot looks between the pair. ‘What did you say?’
‘He’s just joking.’ Mammon waggled his finger at Andras.
Smiling, Andras turned away and took a drink.
‘Wait . . .’ said Grace. She threw a cautious look around the tent before leaning closer to Andras. ‘What do you mean . . . monsters?’
Joe looked over.
Andras and Mammon swapped looks. ‘Perhaps we shouldn’t tell them.’
‘Tell us,’ Grace said.
‘All right then,’ Mammon said. He sat back in his seat and pulled out a cigar. ‘There’s no other way to put it. There are demons out there, and we hunt them.’ He shrugged. ‘You probably don’t believe us.’ He lit the cigar, releasing puffs of smoke into the air around his head.
Joe leaned closer. ‘No, we do. We hunt them as well.’
Mammon blew out another waft of smoke and raised his eyebrows. ‘Which outfit are you with?’
‘One in the south,’ said Grace. She shot Joe a cautionary look. Don’t tell them too much.
‘Ah – you’re with the Renfield lot,’ said Mammon, smiling.
Joe nodded. ‘Yeah!’
The three younger guys chuckled quietly.
‘What?’ Joe looked around the table.
Mammon took another drink and crossed his legs. ‘Let’s just say that you won’t find us getting bogged down in paperwork, or spending hours sitting around a conference table. Do they throw files at you, make you read irrelevant rubbish about a demon’s criminal history?’ He snorted. ‘None of that for us. We just go in and get the job done.’ He flicked his cigar ash on the ground. Andras’s eyes twinkled as he poured another drink. ‘What do you both do? Any special skills, or abilities?’
Grace glared at Joe. Don’t tell them.
Mammon tightened his fingers around the glass. ‘You don’t have to reveal anything.’
‘We’re still learning,’ Grace allowed.
‘Mmm.’ Mammon sighed. ‘And that will be a lengthy, painful process.’
Grace couldn’t help but nod, remembering the cramping pain as the taser hit.
Andras leaned forward, trapping her gaze again. ‘What about your parents?’
‘They died.’
‘How?’
Joe clenched his fingers into a fist. ‘Murdered.’ His voice trembled. Grace looked down at her hands.
‘Oh.’ Haures stroked Joe’s arm. ‘That’s horrible.’
‘You need to punish those who did it.’ Mammon stared at Joe. ‘There’s no justice, otherwise.’
Joe nodded. ‘I’d love to, but I don’t know how that will happen.’
‘Mmm. Frustrating, not being able to take action.’
The group fell into silence.
Andras smiled at Grace. ‘On a lighter note, would you like to dance?’
‘No, thanks.’
‘Grace is a bit shy that way,’ said Joe, ignoring the fierce glare she gave him. He turned to Haures. ‘Shall we?’
Smiling, she nodded. ‘Sure.’
Grace gasped as Haures stood up. The black lace micro-dress was attached at Haures’s belly button by a gold clasp, revealing nearly all of her hips. A thick black band sat just on her pelvis, from which hung a very short skirt.
‘Some dress,’ she muttered.
‘Thanks.’ Haures gave her a sweet smile. With a grin, Joe took her hand and walked towards the dance floor; his chest puffed out with pride as every pair of eyes in the room followed their movement.
* * *
‘JOE?’ IVAN KNOCKED on the bedroom door and waited for a few seconds. He pushed the door open and glanced around. ‘Nothing.’
Lucius peered into the room. ‘When did you see him last?’
‘Just before dinner.’ Ivan scanned the area for clues – a wallet, keys – anything to suggest Joe hadn’t left the premises.
Diana rushed up the hallway. ‘Grace isn’t in her room.’ She shot Ivan a desperate look. ‘Do you think they’re still on the grounds?’
Ivan shook his head. ‘Probably not.’
‘My God!’ Diana pulled out her phone and paced out into the hallway.
Lucius folded his arms. ‘They obviously got past Brutus and took off somewhere. Grace must have played a mind trick.’
Diana came rushing back. ‘No signal from either of them.’ She hit another number. ‘Brutus! Did my niece and nephew approach the gate tonight?’ Diana sighed and hung up. ‘Well, he wouldn’t remember if they did.’ She rubbed her forehead.
Lucius nodded. ‘That’s what I was saying.’
‘I’m going to check if Joe’s bike is there.’
Lucius watched Diana rush away and then turned to Ivan. ‘It doesn’t matter if Grace comes back, but we need Joe.’
Ivan frowned. ‘It would be better if they both returned, Lucius.’
‘Yes – but Joe is the more vital of the pair. And they did leave of their own will, Ivan. All I’m saying is, if they get in touch, make sure Joe comes back.’ Lucins rubbed his glasses against his shirt before replacing them on his face and making for the door.
* * *
GRACE SWAYED IN her chair, her feet tapping. ‘Oh – I love this song!’ Was she slurring? Uhhr . . . who cared. Across the tent, Joe was pressed close against the girl whose name Grace couldn’t remember.
She pointed a shaky finger at Andras. ‘Anthony. Right? That’s you?’
Grinning, Andras poured her another drink. ‘It’s better with the lemonade, isn’t it?’
‘Yep.’ She reached forward, drank the shot, then leaned her head back on the chair. The little stars on the ceiling were dancing.
‘Do you have a boyfriend, Grace?’
She rolled her head his way. ‘Nup.’
‘That surprises me. You’re a good-looking girl.’
‘I had one – last year.’ Her head rolled the other way. The room looked as though they were underwater – everything seemed tinged in a sweaty blur.
‘And?’
‘We broke up.’
‘Why?’ Andras passed her the glass. ‘Drink up.’
‘He told everyone in the school that I’d done dirty things with him. Really dirty things.’
‘And had you?’
‘No! I mean . . .’ she waved her hand through the air, spilling green drops on her t-shirt. ‘We played around, but I didn’t want to go all the way. He told everyone we did.’ Her head lolled sideways. ‘He spread foul rumours about me all round school.’
Andras shook his head. ‘What a bastard.’
One of the waiters approached the table. ‘Excuse me, sir.’ He gave Grace a stern look. ‘That young lady has had more than enough to drink.’
Mammon looked up. ‘You’re fired.’
‘I beg your pardon!’
‘You can beg all you want but you’re still fired.’
The waiter’s mouth dropped open. ‘Who do you think you are?’
‘You mean, you don’t know?’ Andras raised an eyebrow. ‘You should be sacked for that alone!’
The waiter shook his head and strode away.
Grace gasped. ‘You fired him!’ She slumped onto Andras’s shoulder.
> Mammon stood up and patted Andras’s back. ‘You’ll have to take her to bed, my lad.’
From the dance floor, Joe glanced across at Grace, slumped in her chair, head flung back. ‘Let’s take a break.’
Haures nodded. ‘Okay. But before we do . . .’ She pressed her mouth against his, her tongue cool amidst the warm heat of her mouth. She broke the kiss slowly, her eyes never leaving his.
Joe smiled. ‘That was great.’
‘Come on,’ Haures whispered. ‘Dance with me some more.’
Joe glanced across again – Grace was still slumped against Andras. ‘I need to check on my sister.’ He squeezed her hand as they walked back to the table. ‘I’d like to see you again, though.’
‘Oh, I’m not letting you get away from me.’
Joe slid into Mammon’s empty seat. He nudged Grace’s arm. ‘Hey! Wake up!’
‘Uhh . . . leave me alone . . .’
Joe stared at the near-empty bottle. ‘Friggin’ hell, Grace! How much did you have?’
‘Shut up, Joe.’ Her head jerked towards him. ‘You’re drunk too.’
‘No. I only had one of those.’ He glared at Andras. ‘How much did you give her?’
Andras shrugged. ‘She was doing fine – I even watered it down with lemonade.’
‘She doesn’t need to drink much. And she didn’t eat anything.’ He glanced up – Mammon was now standing behind Andras’s chair. ‘I think it’s time we went.’
Mammon nodded. ‘No problem, Joe. No harm intended with Grace.’
‘Yeah, well . . .’ Joe gave Andras a threatening stare. ‘He’s been feeding that stuff to her non-stop.’
‘I thought she could handle it. I’m sorry, Joe.’ Andras helped Grace sit up. ‘Can you walk, sweetheart?’
‘Yeah.’ Grace stood up and then stumbled. Andras caught her. ‘Try to focus, Grace.’ He looked at Joe. ‘Where are you parked?’
‘Over that way.’ Joe pointed towards the river.
‘We’ll help you.’ They guided Grace past the crowds and through the main gates. The security guard who’d identified Grace shook his head with a disapproving frown as she was led past.
Andras eased Grace on to the kerb. ‘There you are.’
Joe kissed Haures again, his fingers stroking the soft skin on her waist. Sighing with regret, he watched her slide into the car.
Mammon reached out his hand. ‘Next time we go on a hunt, I’ll call you.’ He shook Joe’s hand, slipping a small mobile phone into his palm. ‘This is for your use only.’
Joe nodded. He reached into his wallet and slid out the card the paramedic had given him. ‘This is you, isn’t it?’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Vanguard Security. I guessed by the initials: M.H. Jones.’
‘That’s us.’ Mammon smiled. ‘People do admire our work.’
‘One of our guys seemed to think you’d help us. That you’d get the job done, when Renfield wouldn’t.’
‘He was right.’
‘I want to catch the guys who killed my parents.’
‘We will. I will call you.’ Mammon got into the car and closed the door.
As the car moved away, he gave an approving smile to his apprentices. ‘Good work – especially you two.’ He nodded to Andras and Haures.
‘We should drive them home,’ said Zagan.
Mammon shook his head. ‘No. Go away leaving them wanting more. Leaving him wanting more.’
GRACE FLOPPED ON to her back, her head nestled in the grass. All around, people were flooding from the festival gates; their voices mingling with the sound of Joe trying to start the bike. She sat up, groaning. Burying her face in her hands didn’t help – in the dark, her world still spun.
‘Damn it!’ Joe lowered the bike’s kickstand.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘What does it look like? We’re gonna have to call Diana.’ Joe pulled out his phone and stared at the screen. Perhaps he should try Mammon. Joe could see Haures again . . . maybe stay the night in the City. He chewed on his lip for a few seconds and took another look at Grace, sitting on the kerb.
Sighing, he scrolled through his contacts. ‘Oh, no. I don’t have Renfield’s number.’
‘I do.’ Grace held up her phone. Joe grabbed it from her swaying arm and scrolled through the contacts. ‘Ah, Ivan’s number. I see you’ve already saved it.’
He raised a provocative eyebrow.
She peered at him. ‘So what?’
‘That was quick, that’s all. You only met him today.’
‘So?’ Grace dropped her head back on the grass, watching the thin wisps of cloud move across the sky as Joe made the call.
* * *
IT WAS QUIET around the conference room table as Ivan slid his phone into his pocket. ‘They’re in the city. Joe asked me to come and pick them up.’
‘You can’t!’ said Maya.
Ivan looked at Lucius. ‘Specifically me. He doesn’t want Diana to come.’
Seth grunted. ‘That’s because he knows she’ll completely go off at him.’
‘We’ll manage,’ Armin said.
‘No!’ Maya gave Ivan a pleading look. ‘You said you’d help Armin with his mission tonight. You know it’s important for his leadership training! Why do we have to bend to whatever Joe wants?’
‘Because he’s a Ferryman, Maya,’ said Marcus from the doorway. He strolled in and took a seat next to Lucius. ‘He’s very powerful, and we need him on our team.’
Malcolm sat back and folded his arms. ‘It’d be nice if you valued the rest of us in equal measures.’
Marcus gave him a scathing look. ‘If you were a Ferryman, I would.’
Malcolm’s face flushed. He swallowed hard and stared at the desk, his fingers balled into angry fists.
Armin squeezed Maya’s hand. ‘I can go. Have some faith in me, babe.’
Lucius shook his head. ‘I’m not sure that you’re ready, Armin. Perhaps we should wait.’
‘Rubbish,’ Marcus said. ‘He’s already shown the leadership necessary to manage his own team.’ His gaze fell on Malcolm – and in his eyes, yet another unspoken rejection. Unlike you.
Lucius grabbed the mission file and flicked through it. ‘This is a low-level job. Armin can handle it.’
Ivan looked at Armin. ‘It’s your call.’
Armin shrugged. ‘I was due to lead my own team soon anyway, wasn’t I? We’ve just jumped ahead a few months.’ He smiled at Lucius. ‘I’ll do it.’
Marcus gave his brother a firm nod and Lucius stood up. ‘Okay. I guess now is as good a time as any. Good luck.’
* * *
BY THE TIME the chopper arrived, the car park was empty and the last of the festival staff had left.
‘Get up, Grace.’ Joe nudged her with his foot.
‘Leave me alone.’ The dark, still place she wanted to be didn’t involve any movement. ‘Oh, God.’ She opened one eye. ‘We’re not flying home.’
Ivan alighted from the chopper, alone. He stopped a few feet away and folded his arms. ‘Have a good time?’
Joe grinned. ‘Yeah, I did, actually.’
Ivan looked down at Grace’s dishevelled hair and glassy eyes. ‘Can you walk?’
Grace groaned. ‘No . . .’
Ivan slid one arm around her waist and scooped up her legs with the other. She held her breath as his face dipped close to hers. Could he feel her heart pound through her shirt? Without any apparent stress, he lifted her. As she lay her head on his chest, she could hear his heart: slow and steady compared to the rapid drumming in hers. Ivan helped Grace into her seat and pulled the harness across her body. She peeked up at him; when she caught his eye, there was an amused glint.
‘I think I’ve had too much to drink.’
‘It would seem so. It is a shame that I wasn’t there to keep an eye on you.’
‘I wish you had been.’ Her cheeks burned at the intensity of his stare. She savoured his closeness, the warmth of his hands as they brushed against her bare arms; the intimate tone in his voice. Inwardly, she cringed at the memory of that other guy’s arm around her shoulders – Anthony, or whatever his name was.
How could she have compared him to Ivan?
* * *
THE MORNING LIGHT was peeking over the horizon when they landed. Ivan peered at the light coming from Lucius’s office. ‘That’s strange. They’re still up.’
Standing at the desk were Marcus, Lucius, Agatha and Diana. Ivan glanced between them and a television monitor, which was playing footage of mercenaries moving through a corridor.
Diana pressed her lips together. ‘There was . . . an accident.’
‘What?’ Ivan sank into a chair. ‘What happened?’
‘Everything was going well,’ said Lucius. ‘They apprehended the two targets. As we said, a low-level job. But then they went upstairs.’
‘Watch,’ Diana said.
The monitor was split into four screens: each listed a mercenary name at the bottom, allowing the viewer to see from a different point of view.
Grace stared as the team entered a large curved room. ‘What is this place?’ she whispered. People were kneeled, praying, at circular rows of red velvet seats.
They watched Armin grab a woman and shake her by the shoulder. ‘Miss! Can you hear me?’ She didn’t look up – but just kept crying, her head hung.
‘It’s hopeless,’ said the mercenary named Stevens. ‘We’re not getting out of here.’
‘Quiet!’ said Armin. ‘We’re leaving this room, now. Where’s Jameson?’
‘He’s dead!’
Armin looked at Stevens, who pointed to the floor with a shaking hand. The camera revealed a body lying in a dark puddle of blood on the carpet. Grace turned her face away, sickened, as Armin took a close look at the wound.
‘He’s killed himself, man. Can’t take it.’
‘Shut up, Stevens!’
‘I can’t!’
Through Armin’s camera, they watched the distraught mercenary plunge a knife into his neck.