TheSmallPrint

by Barbara Elsborg

  Turner had imagined the truth being gently tortured out of him, Gabriel leaving on a wild-goose chase with the three diaries and peace descending on Turner’s world. Would naiveté be his undoing once again?

  “I don’t know,” Turner said eventually.

  “Or you don’t want to tell me?”

  “I really don’t know.”

  Gabriel’s eyes glittered. “Then I’ll have to find a way to refresh your memory.” He took out his phone. “Dava? Call everyone to the house. The door’s unlocked but use Pete to invite you in. Tell him to bring Matty.”

  Gabriel winked and rage roared through Turner, a crimson riptide racing through his veins. His fangs shot out and despite his best efforts to keep his lips together he found himself snarling in a way he’d only seen vampires behave in movies. Shit.

  Gabriel laughed, which made Turner snarl louder.

  “If you harm her, I will kill you,” Turner said slowly.

  “Define harm.”

  “Nudge one hair on her head out of place.”

  The house phone rang right next to Gabriel’s hand and he grabbed it. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Turner?”

  Turner’s enhanced hearing picked up a man’s voice.

  “He’s a bit…busy at the moment. Can I help?” Gabriel asked.

  The door opened and Dava walked in with five men. Turner didn’t know any of them. She hadn’t changed a bit. Still queen bitch.

  “You can give him a message.”

  Turner recognized the voice.

  “This is Bernard Strachan. He’ll know who I am. Tell him if anyone else calls asking about my niece, he’s to refer them to me. She’s not to have visitors. I’ll be complaining to St. Luke’s hospital board.”

  “Your niece’s name?” Gabriel asked.

  “Matty Hobsbawm. She—”

  Gabriel put the phone down and glared at those who’d just entered the room. “Where’s Matty?”

  * * * * *

  Matty closed herself into the secret compartment in the hall in time to hear Gabriel ask where she was. Once Pete had moved away from the door of the motor home, she’d slipped out and run back to the hall, but when she’d seen a group of people heading in the same direction, Matty had stayed in the shadows and waited to follow them. Best to assume everyone apart from Pete could see her. Until she knew what was going on, she’d stay hidden.

  Pressing her face to the plasterboard paneling, she peered through the peephole into the room.

  Gabriel looked thunderous. “How hard could it be, Pete? I handed the woman to you. The rope was on the table.”

  Pete squirmed. “There wasn’t anyone there.”

  Matty almost felt sorry for him.

  “What the fuck do you mean?” Gabriel snapped.

  “You were on your own, on the ride and in the motor home. You said tie her up but I couldn’t see anyone.”

  Gabriel swiveled to face Turner. “She’s invisible to mortals?”

  “Yes,” Turner said.

  Gabriel let out a laugh of amazement. “That’s why she was immune to my thrall. Her uncle says she’s in the hospital, but she told me she lives here? What’s going on?”

  “She used to live here,” Turner said.

  “She thinks she still does,” Gabriel said.

  “Matty was here when I moved in. She’s some sort of pesky spirit. She won’t leave. She’s nothing but a nuisance.”

  Matty chewed her lip. He didn’t mean that.

  Well, he probably did.

  “Victor, you stay with me. Devlin, Nick, go and look for her,” Gabriel said. “Five nine. Short white hair, blue sweater, jeans. Might still have a blue flower in her hair. She’s very cute.”

  Matty saw Turner clench his fists and she smiled.

  “I’m sorry,” Pete mumbled.

  “It isn’t your fault. It’s mine for not listening,” Gabriel said.

  “I’ve got something to say though.” Pete looked at Dava. “I saw that guy who came to visit you.”

  Dava had a blank look on her face. “What guy? When?”

  “I thought you were cheating on me because you never wanted me to be there early,” Pete muttered. “I saw this good-looking guy in a leather jacket come out of your apartment. The same guy’s here, wandering around the fair.”

  “Catch,” Dava said.

  “Your VRB agent was Catch?” Gabriel asked.

  Dava frowned. “It’s not so strange we’d have the same guy. He was only filling in for someone.”

  Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “Funny. That’s what he told me too. Dava, take Pete and Seth and find him. Victor, you stay here.”

  Matty shivered. That didn’t sound good. Should she creep out and try to warn Catch? But that meant leaving Turner.

  Now only Turner, Gabriel and Victor, who had the broadest shoulders Matty had ever seen, were left in the room. Odds still hopeless. Turner lounged on a chair but looked like a snake coiled ready to strike. Had Gabriel known she cared for Turner before he even spoke to her? Or was he just lucky and she was unlucky? Now he wanted to find her so he could use her to get something out of Turner. Matty needed to stay where she was.

  “Have you spoken to Catch?” Gabriel asked.

  “Yes,” Turner said. “He came to tell me you and Dava were out of prison.”

  “And you didn’t run?” Gabriel said. “Oh wait, you did. You moved house.”

  “I wasn’t running. I’m not hiding. Why should I? I made a mistake twenty years ago and I’m not going to make the same mistake again. Neither should you.”

  “I wonder if you’ll still be unable to remember where the books are when we have Matty in the room,” Gabriel said.

  Uh-oh.

  “I can’t tell you what I don’t know,” Turner said. “Gabriel, think this through. If this VRB guy doesn’t report in, they’ll send others after him.”

  Gabriel laughed. “The VRB are pathetic. They’re not even due to visit me until next week. When Catch disappears, it’s here they’ll look.”

  That didn’t sound good. Matty began to feel increasingly helpless. She had to think of some way to help.

  “So, what did twenty years study of the diaries tell you?” Gabriel asked.

  Turner laughed. “You think if I’d found an answer, I’d still be hiding from the sun? I believe the diaries were real. I believe our ancestors came here from another planet. I believe they brought with them a way of living in the sun, or at least they thought they did, but there’s nothing in the diaries to suggest they ever tried to walk in our sun, no way of working out which plants correspond to those they brought with them. The word I translated as plant might not even be plant. It could be a crystal. It would make more sense. But I gave up long ago.”

  Matty’s fingers crept to the three books she’d hidden. Were these the ones Gabriel was talking about?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Catch came ’round full of fury. His eyes snapped open into darkness. Even with his acute vision, he was blind, though he knew from the taste and stillness of the air he was inside. He couldn’t move, bound in a kneeling position, arms and legs wrenched back, wrists tied to ankles and secured around a metal column. His head ached and he could smell blood on his face, presumably his. A gag covered his mouth. A tug at his restraints told Catch getting free wouldn’t be easy. He’d been secured with electrical cord and he knew who’d done it.

  His fucking boss. Well, Mason hadn’t been the one who’d hit him, rather the distraction so someone else could.

  A rumbling sound filtered into Catch’s hearing and grew louder. Where the hell was he? A panel slid open in front of him and a woman’s piercing scream made his ears ring. Bright lights flashed and dazzled him until Catch saw metal rails illuminated a few feet ahead. A moment later, a bright red carriage turned a corner and headed straight for him. Two girls sat behind a safety bar, eyes and mouths wide open as they screamed.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Catch tried to wrench free b
efore they rammed into him. At the very last second, the carriage veered to one side on a different track and he heard the girls laughing. The screen in front slid across and everything went dark again. Catch gulped behind his gag.

  The Ghost Train?

  What the fuck was happening? The girls thought he was part of the freak show, so no point expecting help from the next carriage. He had to get out of this before Mason came to finish him off. Only, why hadn’t he finished him off? It was a damn sight more trouble to tie him up in here than kill him.

  Two more carriages came and went before Catch figured out the only way he could get free was to shift, and even then it was a risk. He wasn’t sure how far his wolf limbs would bend without breaking, but he had no choice. The moment the screen shut him in the dark again, Catch released his wolf.

  He screamed against the gag, the changes in his muscles and bones setting his body on fire as effectively as if he’d fallen into burning oil. The cloth fell from his muzzle and a howl escaped. Lights flashed in front of him as another carriage approached and the occupants screamed. To Catch’s intense relief, as a wolf he could wriggle free of the restraints and he crumpled to the floor. Even in his agony, he had no choice but to shift straight back. He needed hands to use a phone, to open doors and to strangle Mason. Cleaner than ripping out his throat.

  Catch writhed in agony as he transformed, confused bones swelling as tendons twisted and fur turned back to skin. He bit his lip to keep from screaming and tasted blood as spasm after spasm racked his body. As the last faded, he crouched, cold and shaking, on the floor.

  His clothes lay in tatters. Empty pockets. No phone. No weapons. Catch felt his way around the space where he’d been contained. When he touched a furry paw, he jerked back but a flash of light showed him the model of a werewolf propped to one side. Six feet tall with snarling fangs and red eyes, it looked like a comic book figure, nothing like the sleek wolf Catch had been moments before. Not hard to figure out what had happened. Catch been substituted for this ugly brute as one of the scream-inducing monsters. Pity it wasn’t wearing clothes because Catch was stark naked, though the model gave him an idea. There had to be figures in here wearing something he could steal.

  By the time he emerged from the back of the ride, he’d scavenged a torn shirt and ripped jeans from a zombie and made a few more passengers scream at the sight of his naked body. Catch still hadn’t figured out what the hell was going on, and until he did, he’d tread carefully, not least of which because he had no shoes. Mason obviously wanted him out of the way, though not permanently. He probably hadn’t realized he’d tied Catch up behind a door that would open to reveal him to riders of the Ghost Train. Though maybe he had. Bastard.

  He raised no eyebrows on his way through Winterval. Enough people were in costume that he didn’t stand out. Another zombie even waved a gory plastic arm in greeting. Catch scowled and kept to the shadows as he limped back to the hall. He ached all over. Fast shifts sucked energy and played havoc with his metabolism. He needed Plasmix, answers from Mason, to know Turner and Matty were okay and he needed a weapon. Any order would do. No, it wouldn’t. He needed Matty and Turner to be safe.

  Diana Rolfe stepped in front of him, holding a plastic box. “Where’s Turner?”

  Christ. She’d actually made him jump. Catch put it down to the bang on the head. He was usually much better at creeping around unseen and hearing others who did the same. She hadn’t even been creeping. Shit. He didn’t need to confront trouble until he’d eaten, maybe her if she talked too long.

  “He only gave my cake four out of twenty.” She pouted. “I want to know why.”

  “I haven’t seen him.”

  She peeled the lid off the container and pushed it under Catch’s nose. “He must have made a mistake. You try it.”

  Catch didn’t want cake, particularly not that burnt offering, but he did want the knife lying next to it. He wouldn’t be lucky enough for it to be solid silver but it looked silver-plated. He ripped a dangling strip of material from his shirt and wrapped it around his fingers, as he pretended to wipe his hand.

  “Go on, take a big piece,” Diana said.

  If Catch had more skill using the pathetic amount of thrall he possessed, he’d have convinced her he’d eaten the cake when he hadn’t. Instead, he cut a slice, stole the knife, closed up the container and filled his mouth.

  “Lovely,” he said after he’d forced himself to swallow. “I think I saw Turner by the ice rink. If you see him, tell him I’m in the hall and need to speak to him urgently.”

  “Is he in costume now, like you?”

  Catch couldn’t resist. “Yes, he’s come as a vampire.”

  Once she’d gone, Catch tossed the rest of the cake aside and touched his finger to the silver blade. The burning sensation was instant and he sighed in relief. The knife wasn’t sharp but better than nothing. He strapped it to his calf using another strip of material to keep it off his skin, made sure he could reach it fast, and sidled round to the back of the hall. A broken window later, he stood inside the kitchen.

  The knife block sat next to his hand, he might as well help himself to another weapon. Gripping it tightly, he edged into the entrance hall. As soon as he heard Turner’s voice in the drawing room, Catch remembered he should have helped himself to Plasmix too before he left the kitchen. He could barely think straight, but when the next voice was Gabriel’s, thinking became irrelevant.

  With every molecule in his body yelling Protect! Catch leapt for the drawing room door, but before he reached it, the front door opened. He spun round. Too slow. It was bad enough that Dava stood there, but it was far worse that he recognized one of the four guys with her. Seth McNulty. SBI like Catch and a fucking traitor.

  Dava clapped her hands in delight. “I caught Catch! At least Gabriel won’t be completely pissed off. One out of two’s not bad. Get him,” she snapped.

  Two guys jumped. Seth kicked the knife out of Catch’s hand and pinned him facedown on the floor. The other guy toed the blade well out of reach. Catch grunted in pain. That had been humiliatingly easy. How could he have forgotten he needed Plasmix? Catch wanted to kick himself in the head for being so stupid.

  “Check him for weapons,” Dava said.

  Catch tensed when Seth felt the blade at his calf, but when he said nothing, hope returned.

  “Idiot,” Seth whispered as he hauled Catch to his feet.

  Am I supposed to know what’s happening? Did I miss a memo? An email? Oh fuck.

  A hard shove sent Catch sprawling through the open door onto the floor of the drawing room. He rolled over to look up at Gabriel and the man standing next to him, and things got a whole lot worse on the job front. Nathaniel Golding, head of the SBI, glared down at him.

  Catch could almost feel the color leach from his face. He really must have missed a memo. He was up shit creek without a canoe let alone a paddle. Glancing around the room, he spotted Turner sitting on the couch. He looked paler than normal but uninjured, and Catch sighed.

  “What the hell are you doing dressed like that?” Gabriel asked.

  “My job,” Catch said. “Checking on Turner. Trying to blend in.”

  Gabriel bent his head and sniffed. “Wolf?”

  Shit. Catch struggled to pull his vamp to the fore.

  “You were sent to check on me and Dava, but why Turner?” Gabriel asked. “He’s not been in prison. No reason for the Board to send you here.”

  “I was to tell Turner you were out of prison. I don’t choose where I get sent. We’re always short of agents.” Oh God, don’t let the SBI be short of another one in a minute.

  “You’re a were not a vamp,” Gabriel said. “What else are you lying about?”

  That fast shift had left his vamp reclining in the shade, refusing to come out. “I’m not a were.”

  Golding bent his head and inhaled. “No, he’s not. It’s me you can scent.”

  Catch made sure he didn’t react, but Golding was a vamp. Thoug
h come to think of it, he did smell of were. Catch needed to keep his mouth shut.

  So he opened it.

  “Look, be sensible. Let me go. I won’t say anything. My boss is thick enough to believe everything I say, but if I don’t call in, he’ll want to know why and he’ll send someone here.”

  What the hell was happening? Golding didn’t go out into the field. Was he here to protect Turner?

  Catch tried to get up and Golding launched a foot into his side. Fuck. Turner’s fists clenched and Catch willed him to keep still.

  “He has a point,” Seth said. “You don’t want to bring the SBI down on us.”

  “Catch is VRB,” Dava snapped.

  Golding snorted. “And when the VRB are in trouble, they call in the SBI.” He kicked Catch again.

  Oh fuck, that hurt. Golding might be the head of the agency, but the guy was seriously pissing Catch off. Whose fucking side was he on? The fast shift had left Catch vulnerable. He couldn’t protect himself let alone Turner. And where the hell was Matty? He’d kill them all if they’d done something to her.

  “Threaten him and let him go,” Golding said. “He’s little more than a pen-pusher. He’ll be indebted to you for his life.”

  “Perhaps he’d like to join the Calling,” Gabriel said. “Once he understands what we’re trying to do, he’ll see the light.”

  “I have seen the light. I’ve seen straight through you.” Catch heard Turner quietly tsk. Ah, maybe that hadn’t been bright.

  “Kill him and eliminate the threat,” Dava said. She clutched Gabriel’s arm. “Do you have the books?”

  “Not yet. Turner claims he doesn’t know where they are.”

  “Then why don’t you chop off bits of him until he remembers?” She beamed. “Or even better, I’ll practice by chopping bits off Catch. I know just where to start, but I’ll make his cock long and hard first.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t make a mess on the rug. It’s Persian and expensive,” Turner said.

  Matty could no longer do nothing. Turner and Catch were going to get killed and all because of the stupid books. Though they were obviously important to Turner, so she didn’t want to just hand them over. Matty carefully ripped out the last couple of pages of each of them and slid the loose sheets behind a section of loose plasterboard. Leaving two books behind on the floor, she clutched the third, and taking a deep breath, emerged from her hiding place.