I shake my head. “Not really.”
His eyes soften. “What can we do to make it easier? How can I help?”
“Can’t we leave the past in the past? It’s no use digging up dead horses. The present is far more important than what happened.”
"Not if the past influences the present," Gryphon argues. "It's affecting us, our relationship. I'm sure you can see that."
"Yes," I admit grudgingly.
"Then let's do this. We never found out what happened to you. Is it good for you to bury it all inside of you? I doubt it."
"You know he kept me prisoner," I hedge. "You know I met Sophie there and escaped with her. And you know that he somehow made me pregnant without me knowing. He said he experimented on me, but I can't remember. Either I was unconscious or he messed with my memory. Either way, you know all there is to know."
Ryker gets up and swaps sofa, sitting next to me. He takes my hands and squeezes them gently. "We know that, yes, but what did you feel? How did you survive without going crazy?"
I look at him, focusing on his large yellow eyes. The cat in me purrs and wants to lick him. Not the time, pussy cat.
"Obviously I missed you," I begin slowly. "I worried about you. I didn't know if you were alright. My captor knew where I lived, so there was always the possibility that he'd returned and harmed you all. And... I was scared."
I sigh. It's hard to admit that. But it's true. I was scared shitless.
"At first, it was easy to resist. I thought I'd get out of there soon. This wasn't my first time stuck in a cell and until then, I'd always escaped. But then they started torturing me..." My voice breaks off and I use the moment of silence to gather my thoughts. How much do I want to tell them? I don't want to divulge too much. I don't want them to see me as weak.
"Go on," Ryker encourages me with a warm, patient smile. "We won't think any less of you, no matter what you did to survive. You're not weak, you're the strongest woman any of us have ever met. We're here with you."
I sigh deeply once more. This is the crossroads. I can either continue my silence and just get on with life, or I can drag out the past for them all to see. They'll see me. My fears, my failures. Am I ready for that?
Ryker squeezes my hand again and suddenly I realise that yes, I am ready.
"I was terrified," I begin and then the words come tumbling from my mouth. They soak them up, listening intently. And with every word, I feel a little lighter.
Finally, we're on our way to the town hall, all four of us. Sophie had made us some lunch, which I needed after all that emotional exhaustion. It was surprisingly good to talk about it though. Not that I'm going to make a habit of it. In the end, they all hugged me and I almost cried. Almost. I'm not that far gone yet. But I was very close, admittedly. My eyes still sting a little when I think of how they told me how proud they were, how much they loved me. I'm still not quite sure why they needed this so much, but I'm glad it's done. In Gryphon's words, the rust has been rubbed off the blade and now it can sting again.
And that's exactly what we're about to do. First, we're going to talk to Lady Lara again. Then we're going after the sirens. We won't even give them the opportunity to go after the politicians. We'll strike them now before they can act. Thanks to the MacFays, we now have a list of four targets. We'll strike them at the same time. Not to kill, not quite yet. First, we're going to force them to tell us everything. All their other siren contacts. Then we'll go after them. And the next. And so on until all of Attenburgh has been cleansed.
Benjamin has equipped each of us with an anti-siren device - except for Gryphon, obviously. That should help us immensely. Gryphon said that he doesn't expect any of them to be as strong as the Hypnotisse, but who knows. Better safe than sorry.
We have no idea of these four people are strong sirens or not. They could be the bottom feeders of the Fangs, but we won't know until we kill them. We're heading to the town hall first to let Lady Lara take a look at the list. Maybe she'll recognise the names and can tell us something about our targets. We could have done some research ourselves, but there's no time. We have to act quickly and the guys' little intervention took up too much time already.
The receptionist looks at us with a bored expression. "Do you have an appointment?"
"No, but Lady Lara will want to see us," I reply. I know that man, he's let me in dozens of times before, but he keeps having a stick in his arse. What a bore.
"I'll give her a call," he says with a dubious look as if he can't believe that the mayor would want to talk to us.
"No need," I hiss impatiently and head right to the elevator.
"Don't we need his permission to use operate the elevator?" Lennox asks. "I've never been able to walk in just like that."
I flash him a grin. "Organising the security of this place has its advantages."
I press the buttons for the third and fifth floor at the same time and hold them down until a dong chimes and the elevator starts moving upwards. "Override," I explain cheerily. "Don't tell anyone. I'm not supposed to use it unless it's an emergency, but dealing with that receptionist counts as one, right?"
The guys nod, although I'm sure they just do it to placate me. They're well aware of how much I've sacrificed for them today, so hopefully, they'll treat me like a queen for the next few days.
Lady Lara is waiting for us as soon as we step out of the elevator. Mr Grumpy Receptionist must have alerted her.
"I thought you'd be here earlier," she says instead of a greeting. "What took you so long?"
I roll my eyes. "Personal stuff. And we won't stay long. Just a few questions before we start the fun part of our work."
"Don't tell me. Plausible deniability." She leads us into her office and sits behind her desk, her fingers pursed beneath her chin. "So?"
I hand her the list of names. "Four people who're very likely to be Fangs or at least sirens. Delaney is one of them, but I'll deal with him after. First I want to get rid of his supporters. Do you recognise any of these?"
"Daniel Mason," she mutters, reading the first name. The initials are the same as in that letter Benjamin found, but of course, I can't be sure it's the same person. There must be hundreds of D.M.s in Attenburgh.
"That's a councillor. Fairly young, it's always amazed me how he managed to rise to his position this quickly. Very conservative views, especially for someone so young. When I first met him, I thought he might be on my side, but the opposite was true." She runs her eyes over the other names but shakes her head. "The others don't mean anything to me. The last one sounds slightly familiar, but I meet a lot of people and hear a lot of names. Sorry, I can't help you."
"That's okay. Anything new on the murders?" I ask.
She raises a perfectly styled eyebrow. Somehow I focus on her eyebrows every time I see her. What is it about them? Maybe I should have mine plucked to look the same. Maybe my subconscious wants perfect eyebrows. It might explain the inner restlessness I've been fighting all my life. Yeah, if only things were that simple.
"Shouldn't you be telling me?" She chuckles softly. "After all, I employed you to look into them."
"I meant, have there been further murders?"
"No, not that I'm aware. And I rescheduled our morgue appointment to after the congress. It felt like less of a priority after what you told me this morning. But don't get me wrong, I still want those responsible brought to justice."
"You may get both in one go. If they were killed by Fangs - or at least on behalf of them - their killers could be involved in the collar plans. I'm still not sure why they would make the murders so obvious and expose their insignia like that, but they must have a reason."
"What if it's a warning?" Gryphon muses. "From someone who isn't a Fang? Did you check if the people killed were sirens?"
"I don't know. I've never tried that. Usually, I find out if my targets are sirens before I kill them."
The mayor rolls her eyes. "Please, no talk of unsavoury things. Plausible-"
/> "Deniability," I complete the sentence. "We know. So let's just think what it would mean if they indeed weren't human. Why would someone leave a Fang coin on their corpses? It doesn't make sense unless..."
"Unless?" Lady Lara asks sharply.
"Unless they were Fangs and someone's killing them. That would mean there's someone out there who's got the same vendetta we do. But that's just a theory. One I like a little too much, so it's probably wrong."
"And they're leaving the bodies near the town hall to get the mayor's attention," Ryker muses. "Even if you, Lady Lara, didn't already know about the Fangs, you'd certainly investigate by now. Five corpses with strange coins, that would make even the most stupid humans investigate."
"Six," the mayor corrects. "Six dead people. They weren't anyone important, so I doubt they were at the top of the Fang hierarchy, if indeed they were sirens. Wouldn't someone interested in eradicating that organisation go for the people at the top?"
"I would," I agree. "But maybe they're not confident enough. Or this is their way of asking for backup. I don't know. Let's leave this for tomorrow and focus on the sirens on my list instead. Those are more concrete targets."
Lady Lara gets up, clearly showing us that this meeting is over. "Good luck. I'll reschedule that morgue appointment for tomorrow morning. If this isn't the work of the Fangs, I want to get more information before the conference."
I nod. "Please don't say 10 in the morning."
"10 am." She grins evilly. "Not a minute later. The coroner doesn't like tardiness."
"Phffffff. He can-"
"She. And she's a lovely woman. Now off with you, you've got business to do."
I love how she doesn't say 'you have people to kill'. No, she's all diplomacy and political correctness. I wonder if that's a skill she had to learn or if she was born with it.
"Well let you know how it went," I promise."
"Good, but this time, give me a call. No more nightly visits please."
I grin. "I can't promise that.
Chapter Fifteen
We split up as soon as we're out of the town hall. We've each got a target and an hour to get to them.
"Ready?" I ask, taking in each of my guys. They carry weapons, many of them, but an ordinary passerby wouldn't know. We blend into the crowd, even Ryker, who's wearing sunglasses. Luckily, it's a beautiful day.
"Check your watches. We need to strike at the same time."
Our clocks match. I'd already checked when we left the house, but it's always better to make sure. We don't want one of our targets to alert the others. We don't know if they're in contact with each other. It's not like we even know that they're all sirens. We're going in blind and I don't like it, but it's better than waiting. For once, we can take the offensive.
"I've got a cat assigned to each of you," Ryker reminds us. "Lennox, Gryphon, if you need assistance, rub the cat's head. If you're not going to be able to kill the target for some reason, rub their tail."
"What do we do if we simply want to cuddle the cat?" Gryphon deadpans.
"Don't touch their bellies. They don't like that."
I raise my hand. "I do. You can rub my belly any time you want."
Ryker's bright yellow eyes turn into fire as he looks at me with pure hunger. "Later," he says huskily. "Later."
Heat rises within me. That's a promise I'm looking forward to. But first, we need to kill some sirens.
A tiny tabby comes running over the square, meowing loudly until he's reached us. He rubs against Ryker's legs, his tail barely reaching my mate's knee.
"What is she saying?" Gryphon asks.
"He," I sigh. "Seriously, isn't that obvious?"
"Not to me, no. It's just a cat. It's not like he's showing off his endowment to make sure everyone knows."
"Gryphon, no dirty talk about my cats," Ryker growls. "He's just talked to the cats who've been waiting at the four addresses. We're lucky, there are people at all four places. Of course, we don't know if it's our targets, but it looks promising."
I bend down to give the little cat a scratch between his ears. He purrs his thanks before running off again. I stand up tall, make sure my knives are still where they're supposed to be, and smile at my men.
"Let's hunt."
It takes me almost half an hour to get to the house. It's so far out of town that I'd barely call it part of Attenburgh. And it's not a house, it's a villa. It could easily be a hotel, with dozens of rooms and a massive garden spread out all around it. A row of young birch trees leads to the main entrance. Not quite a proper boulevard yet, but maybe one day. I don't take that route, obviously. I stay in the shadows, grateful for all the bushes and trees surrounding the mansion. There’s no sign of Ryker’s cats, but I’m sure they’ll seek me out if they have something important to report.
Once I've found a large bush to hide behind - one of the few that doesn't have thorns - I close my eyes and extend my senses.
Thirteen people. Fuck. And most of them seem to be in the same room on the ground floor. That's not going to make things easy. It's not like I can wait until dark when they might disperse to go to sleep. No, I've got less than half an hour to get to my target unseen. And I need to make sure I've got a route out again as well. In the past, I would have been less careful about that aspect of the hit, but now that I have a family, I can't be as careless. I need to be back in time to feed the babies. There's no time to hide and wait it out.
I stay in that spot until I've gathered enough sensory information. Three people are apart from the main group. Two smell like food even from this distance, so I assume they're cooks or servants. Only one person is on the first floor, all on their own. I so wish that's my target. It's a woman, so that fits, but I doubt my luck is that good. The only way to find out is to enter the house.
My target's name is Rosalind Tailor. I have no idea who she is, but she must be rich. Mr MacFay knew her address by heart, which once again speaks for the fact that she's loaded and probably important. I wish I’d had more time to ask him for details, but this has all been a bit of a hurry. Maybe it's her house, maybe it's her family's. Either way, she needs to die in twenty minutes.
I run across the lawn as fast as I can towards a pair of white patio doors. They're unlocked and I slip into the house unseen. That bit was easy. The crowd is at the other end of the mansion, but one person is moving towards me. I breathe in deep. Human. Male. Not one of the foody people. Maybe he's looking for the toilet.
I randomly choose a room to my right and walk into it before the man comes into view. The door creaks a little, but it shouldn't be audible for any non-shifters, not at that distance.
Turns out I'm in a broom cupboard. How lovely. Well, a bit bigger than a cupboard. It's the size of my bedroom, yet the only thing they use it for is storing cleaning supplies. What a waste. It smells of dust in here, paired with the sharp sting of bleach. I doubt I'll find anything useful in here.
I wait while listening to the male's footsteps. He's continuing along the hallway, right until he's outside my door. He smells human, but why am I starting to think he knows I'm here? I made sure to evade the two security cameras outside and I didn't spot any in the corridor.
He stops for a moment and I get ready to attack if necessary, but then he opens the patio doors and leaves the house. Phew. Not that I don't want to kill him, but I have other priorities. Once my target is dead, I can deal with the others. I stay in one place as he moves away from the building and into the surrounding gardens. Maybe he wants to have a fag or just needs some fresh air. Either way, for now, I can continue.
Halfway down the corridor, I stop and breathe in deep. I'm close enough now to figure out who's a siren and who isn't. And it's my lucky day. Nine sirens in one room. Bingo. That's going to be fun. Sadly, it also makes it harder to know which of them is my intended target. The woman on the floor above smells human, so I doubt it's her. Still, I'm going to deal with her first. As much as I cherish the challenge of fighting an entire room of
people, I still have some time until the hit. I check my watch. Twelve minutes.
The stairs are covered in carpet, just like in the Delaneys' house. Must be some kind of posh trend. It helps with not making a sound, but I won't have my stairs carpeted any time soon. It's such a waste of material, but I suppose that's exactly what it's all about. These people are stinking rich and want everyone to know.
The first floor is very different from the one below. Instead of a dark corridor with lots of rooms on either side, this one has a large space around the staircase filled with statues and display cases. It reminds me of a museum, except that we're in a mansion, not a public building. Only two doors lead away from this room. The human female is to my left, but I can't resist looking at some of the exhibits first. This is not something I've ever come across in all my years of breaking and entering. Yes, of course I've seen expensive paintings and the occasional statue, but nothing on this scale. There have to be at least thirty display cases here, spread out around a space that's larger than my house. Crazy.
The closest display holds a single lock of dark brown hair. The Wolf of Horton. A wolf shifter? The glass is too thick for me to get a scent. Either way, it's weird. Why on Earth would you showcase some hair like that? I mean, it's hair. Come on. A tail maybe, or a paw, or even a large piece of fur, but not just a bundle of hair.
The next showcase is more interesting. A bronze goblet holding a light blue liquid. It reminds me of a poison, but again, I can't smell it to make sure. The brass sign beneath the glass is a little rusty, but I can just about make out the words. The drink that killed Duke Fortingham. Fay Lip's Poison.
Not a poison I've heard of before. I shall have to research it; it sounds enchanting. Never heard of Duke Fortingham before. May he rest in peace, whoever he was. It's very strange to show a poison used to kill some noble guy though. The next few display cases aren't any less bizarre. The claws of a bear shifter, a faded piece of linen that once belonged to a cult leader, and a wooden pipe with the inscription The Piper of Hameln, father of sirens. It's the cleanest display, clearly marking it as the one that gets the most attention.
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