Boss Fight (Beyond the Aura Book 1)

by Helen Adams

  “I’m DI Bennett.” So Baldy was in charge. He indicated his taller associate. “DC Forrest.”

  I knew exactly how this was going to go. They’d ask if I remembered anything about the attack. I’d lie through my teeth. They’d know that I was lying – or expect me to lie – and they’d keep up the questioning. Then they’d start on my criminal record.

  “Do you remember anything about your attacker?” Bennett continued. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  Bingo, I thought, score one for me! Ding ding ding! Give the girl a bonus prize.

  I was tempted to start with ‘once upon a time…’ but I did have a sense of self-preservation, however skewed.

  “I went for a run,” I said instead, keeping my voice low. I avoided making eye contact. Don’t lay it on too thick. “Took a short cut through the park. Then this – this person…”

  “Was it a man or a woman? Can you tell me what he was like?”

  ‘He’? That sounded like a leading question. I was not one to be led.

  “It could have been a Martian for all I know. Creep was dressed head to toe in motorcycle leathers. He or she was wearing a helmet.”

  They exchanged another look. Forrest was scribbling details in his notepad.

  “You couldn’t tell the sex of your attacker?” Forrest queried.

  More points to me. Same question, different words. Another shake of the head.

  “Can you think of anyone who’d want to hurt you?” Bennett asked.

  Give me a couple of hours to work through the list. I had more enemies than I’d had hot dinners.

  “No,” I replied. “No one.”

  “Do you have any enemies?”

  Shake. I felt like Pinocchio.

  “Can you think of a reason why anyone would want to attack you?”

  There weren’t enough hours in the day to go through that list. The warlock Kristjan had been at the top… but now he was dead.

  “I can think of one reason,” I said, deliberately hesitant. Well, they were going to bring it up sooner or later anyway. “I spent time in prison. Maybe someone I know has a problem with that.”

  “Involuntary manslaughter, wasn’t it?”

  A quick nod. I felt as if a knife had been shoved between my ribs, and it hurt. Not like the assassin’s tulwar. But it still hurt.

  “Do you think a member of your family…?”

  They were trying to decide if this was a revenge attack for what I’d done in the past. I would have laughed if it hadn’t been so sad.

  “No,” I forced myself to say. “No family left, now.”

  “Miss McArthur,” Bennett said, “there’s just one detail that doesn’t make sense to us.”

  “What’s that?”

  I knew. Of course I knew. I already had a lie prepared.

  “We found a knife at the scene, presumably the one used to attack you. We only found your fingerprints on the handle.”

  “We… we struggled. I tried to get the knife away.” I could play the game.

  They went around and around, asking the same questions in different ways. I slumped down in the bed. I didn’t have to feign tiredness – I was exhausted.

  “How long have I been here?” I interrupted, fed up. “What time is it?”

  “It’s Monday,” Forrest said. Glancing at his watch, he added, “Lunchtime.”

  Fuck. I’d been in hospital for forty-eight hours. I’d missed work – would continue to miss work – until I healed up. Could Mina sack me for this? That bitch, she would if she could find a way.

  Finally, finally, Bennett and Forrest left.

  I had to get up. I had to leave hospital, had to call Raz and go home. Was I allowed to discharge myself? And where was my taufrkyn? I needed her now more than ever.

  I swung my legs off the bed. The world spun. I put my hands over my face, letting blessed darkness sooth my throbbing brain. I don’t know how long I sat like that – hurting, breathing – but I only moved when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  My instincts wanted to lash out. As beaten and battered as I was, my reflexes were still alive and kicking, but I managed to hold them back. I wasn’t sure that I could even take a kitten right now.

  “Daphne, you should be resting.” It was the nurse again. She had a round face and warm eyes. “You won’t get better by moving about.”

  She didn’t know that I’d be right as rain. With enough leighis.

  I hoped.

  My clothes, soaked in blood, were being held as evidence. I wasn’t surprised. But I was pissed – yet another outfit that I’d have to replace at the charity shop.

  The nurse came back with my keys and the ten-pound note, though the waist pack was also being held. As, I discovered when I started asking questions, were my socks and trainers. Damn! I was never going to get the Bowie knife back, because then I’d have to admit that it was mine.

  The nurse wheeled a phone to my bed. It would be horrendously expensive, but I needed to make two calls.

  “A doctor will be along presently,” she explained.

  I didn’t need a doctor to tell me that I’d been shredded like a head of lettuce.

  When I was finally alone I took stock of all the surgical dressings. The gash on my arm was bandaged. I flexed my fingers; no numbness. The deep cut across my wrist was bulky with dressings, and when I tried to bend my hand the skin pulled tight. I hissed.

  Acres of bandage had been wound around my torso, and I felt the bulge of surgical pads follow the shape of the long cut. Across my back and stomach, more bulges marked where I’d been run through. I explored with a gentle touch and braced myself against the pain.

  Then there was my knee. The first assassin had kicked me with the force of a mule. The joint was swollen and tender, and I knew that if I tried to put weight on it I’d be in trouble.

  Fuck it. I was already in trouble.

  “Good afternoon, Basingstoke Library, how can I help?”

  “Alice,” I breathed. I was so glad that she’d answered rather than Mina. I’d have to speak to the bitch – there was no getting around it – but I wanted a friendly voice first.

  “Yes?” She hadn’t recognised me.

  “It’s Daphne. I need your help.”

  “Where the hell have you been? I rang and rang, even went to your flat–”

  “I need you to come pick me up from the hospital.”

  Silence. Then, “Oh, shit. What happened? Are you OK?”

  “I got beat up.” I explained what had happened, substituting the truth for the plausible lie I’d given to the police. “They want to keep me here longer. I can’t stay. I hate hospitals.”

  “I’m coming to pick you up.” Her voice had a firmness I’d never heard before. “Sit tight, Daph. I’m coming to get you.”

  “Can you bring some clothes? The police nicked all of mine, they were covered in blood…”

  The second call was to Raz.

  “Where have you been?” he yelled down the phone. It was almost a carbon copy of Alice’s opening words. “I looked all over for you!”

  I held it away from my ear, wincing as he let out a stream of agitated Arabic. Neither he nor Alice had thought to check here. But I couldn’t blame them – I doubted they’d even wanted to consider that it was an option.

  “I’m in hospital. Alice is giving me a ride home.” I lowered my voice so no one else on the ward could make out what I was saying. “Kristjan wasn’t behind those attacks. The mermaids were wrong.”

  He was silent so long that I thought the line had gone dead.

  “Never mind the attacks right now, I’m coming over when you get home. Hisham can mind the garage. Are you alright? What happened? I thought…” He cleared his throat. “Never mind what I thought.”

  I explained how I’d been ambushed by silk golems, though I didn’t go into details.

  “I don’t understand,” he said. I heard his frustration. “Kassandra told me Kristjan was responsible!”

  “She’s wr
ong.”

  “Mermaids don’t lie. The continuation of their species depends on their ability to bargain good information.”

  “If you’re so sure that they don’t lie, they could just be plain old wrong. Bad intel or something.”

  “I told you –”

  “Yeah, yeah, heard you the first time.”

  “One of these days a near-death experience is going to teach you some manners.”

  “They never taught you to stop being so damned smug,” I shot back. “We all have our vices.”

  “Try not to worry about the mermaids,” Raz said. “We’ll sort something out.”

  I wondered exactly how we’d sort it out, though. The mermaids had been our best source of information, but they were dangerous; I couldn’t let Raz go back to them.

  So what was left?

  I eased myself back onto the pillows. It was nice just to lie down. I wished – with the bone-deep, fervent desire of a child – that everything was back to normal; that I’d never gone to prison, never become a berserker.

  I wanted to be back on the farm. I wanted to be hauling hay bales and feeding lambs. I wanted to eat jam sandwiches while I drove a tractor. The years I’d spent with gramps had been the happiest of my life.

  I felt something warm and wet press against my hand. I looked down and smiled.

  There was a nose pushing into my fingers. A fuzzy face was attached to that nose. Extravagantly tufted ears twitched. How did she know I was here? Taufrkyn mojo, that’s how.

  “Come here,” I croaked, scooping Lorl against my chest. Her fur was soft, beautiful lavender, and suddenly I was crying. Her presence eased the pain inside and out.

  Alice arrived long before a doctor made an appearance.

  “Good God, what happened to you?” she exclaimed.

  I tried to imagine how I must look to her. Scruffy hair – I mean scruffier than usual – stuck together with dried blood. Hospital gown. Bruises.

  “Maybe you can get me ready for the ‘Miss Hospital Ward’ pageant?”

  Underneath the blanket, Lorl pressed against my leg. Her warmth seeped into me. Finally, I relaxed.

  “Have you talked to the police? Have they arrested anyone?”

  “The whacko was wearing a helmet. I couldn’t give any kind of ID.”

  “Then he could hurt someone else!”

  Her alabaster skin was flushed with genuine anxiety. I hated lying to her, but telling the truth would serve no good purpose.

  I’d become good at lying to people. All part of being a berserker.

  “Leave it to the police, eh?” I said, patting her hand.

  Actually, she’d made a good point; the second assassin had left me for dead. When the golem wrangler realised that I was still alive, they’d send another. Hell.

  “I can’t believe you got hurt,” she sniffed, moisture making her eyes gleam. “You always seem so capable, so strong… you’re like an Amazonian.”

  That made me laugh. It hurt.

  “Even Amazonians get their arses handed to them on a plate sometimes. How did Mina take the news?”

  “It was weird.” She perched on the bed, taking care not to jostle me. “She got this look on her face… like she wasn’t there. I couldn’t see anything in her eyes. No concern, anger, happiness – nothing. Then she just kind of shook herself, and she was back.”

  “That’s… OK, that’s weird. Maybe she had a fit or something?”

  We couldn’t stand each other, and I often imagined wringing her neck, but I did have some compassion.

  “I don’t know.” Alice shrugged, her concern evident. “I asked if she was alright. She said yes. I can’t do much more.”

  “We’ll keep an eye on her. I guess.”

  “You’ll be doing nothing of the sort, young lady.” Her tone became mock stern, and she tried to scowl. It was cute. “If you’re determined to leave here I’m going to find a doctor, get you discharged with a sick note, and take you home. You’re not going to argue.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  But I couldn’t resist sticking my tongue out.

  Alice quested forth and eventually came back with her spoils, a doctor who didn’t look much older than us. But his youth belied a steely attitude that I respected.

  “Miss McArthur, how many more different ways do I have to put this?” He dragged a hand over his face. “You’re lucky to have avoided internal injuries, but you’re still vulnerable, and if you leave hospital now there’s an excellent chance that your wounds will open again. I’ll put this in graphic terms. You could bleed to death.” He’d been over the same argument several times already.

  “What’s the difference between lying on my arse in a hospital bed, and lying on my arse in my own?”

  He rolled his eyes. The gesture had been adorable the first time. This was not the first time.

  “The difference is several dozen doctors and nurses, and access to cutting edge medical treatment!”

  I looked at him, smiled, and started humming ‘We Shall Not Be Moved’.

  “All right,” he said. “If you’re determined to do this, then there’s no way that I can stop you. We don’t chain patients to the bed.” His narrowed eyes suggested that he wished he could do otherwise. “I’m going to find the consultant and work out a care plan. It will involve daily visits from a nurse to have your dressings changed. Do you think you can manage that?”

  “Of course,” I lied. I wouldn’t need to see a nurse, not when I slapped on enough leighis to drown a small army.

  “Good. I’ll be back shortly.” He left.

  “You can be a real child sometimes, d’you know that?” Alice asked when he was out of earshot.

  “Isn’t that why we’re friends?”

  As soon as the doctor was gone Alice pulled the screen around my bed and dropped a plastic bag on the blanket. Lorl hopped up onto the headboard, secure in the knowledge that only I could see her, and settled down to grooming.

  “I popped into a couple of clothes shops on the way here,” Alice said. “Picked up a few things.”

  “I’ll pay you back, right?” I gave her a grateful smile.

  “You need a wardrobe update.” She shook her head. “Consider it an early birthday present.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I opened my mouth, struggling for words. After a few seconds floundering like a fish I closed my mouth and just hugged her.

  Of course it hurt. But I didn’t care.

  I got dressed, eventually. Every movement was pain. I gritted my teeth and sweated my way through it, grateful all over again for Alice’s choice of clothes, though the underwear was a lot sexier than I’d normally buy. If we hadn’t already had a conversation – a long time ago – I’d think that she was coming onto me. I turned my back when I put the bra on, letting her do it up for me… but I think she took her time.

  Ah, what the hell. She’d bought me a bunch of new clothes. One little peek wouldn’t hurt our friendship.

  NINE

  Alice drove me home. I sat in the passenger seat and kept quiet, determined not to let my pain show. Laying down was definitely better than sitting; the bandages around my middle were bunching up, and I felt the edges of the long wound press against each other.

  I clung to the one small measure of comfort that I’d managed to take from this whole fucking disaster: - no internal injuries. The doctor had said that, quite a few times – usually as a prelude to ranting on about the external injuries – but I’d been less concerned about those. Leighis was for superficial wounds and breaks. I didn’t want to test it on organ damage. Could it repair a severed spine? I shivered and tried to think about something else.

  I nearly cried at the idea of having to ascend the Squillion Steps, but to my intense relief the lifts were working. I still found it hard to believe that forty-eight hours ago I’d jogged down those steps, fit and healthy, and now here I was – a beaten and bruised wreck. Story of my life… even before I’d become a berserker.

  We g
ot inside. I sank onto the sofa, eased off the sandals Alice had bought, and stretched out.

  “You OK?” she asked. “D’you want some of these painkillers?”

  “No, thanks.” Just leighis. And soon. “I’ve got another mate coming round later. I don’t want to be out of my gourd on whatever the doctor gave me.”

  “You’re out of your gourd anyway,” she grinned. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have discharged yourself from hospital.”

  “I hate hospitals. End of story.” I gave a tiny, one-shouldered shrug. Even that small movement hurt.

  She arched an eyebrow. I shouldn’t have told her that.

  “Bad time when I was a kid,” I added, not meeting her eyes. I didn’t mention that the experience had involved a grown man’s fist, a broken beer bottle, and stitches.

  “Well, you’re home now.” She bustled about my small flat and disappeared behind the silk screen, into the kitchen. “Coffee?”

  “Just stick me on a drip and I’ll be happy,” I chuckled, then winced, pressing a hand to my side. I was getting so sick of this shit.

  A second later I heard the gentle clink of crockery being moved around, then water pouring from a tap. Was she doing my washing up?

  “You don’t have to do that!” I called.

  “No, but I want to.” She stuck her head around the screen, the sound of the running tap echoing behind her. “That’s what friends are for. Who did you say was coming over?”

  “Raz. You’ve met him.”

  “Oh. Raz.”

  I looked at her, curious. The way she’d spoken had been flat, not at all like her usual bubbly self.

  “Wow. Your approval is overwhelming.”

  “Sorry. It’s just…he’s got to be twenty years older than you. Don’t you think that kind of age gap is a bit weird?”

  Uh oh. Female subtext: - she didn’t like him. Well, I couldn’t expect all of my friends to like my other friends.

  Who was I kidding? Alice and Raz were my only friends.

  “He helped me when I came out of prison.” He’d treated me as one of his family, helped me find a job and a place to live. Kept me alive during those first terrifying days as a berserker.