TheSmallPrint

by Barbara Elsborg

  When she pushed open the door of the drawing room, every face but one turned in her direction. So they could all see her except Pete. Damn.

  “Is this what you’re looking for?” She held up the book.

  “Matty, no, run,” Catch shouted, and earned another kick in the ribs, which left him curled in agony.

  She shot Catch a “sorry” look and glared at the big guy next to Gabriel. Victor, was it? “Kick him again, and I’ll kick you, you big bully.”

  Gabriel crossed the room and held out his hand. Matty glanced at Turner, and for the merest glimmer of a second a tiny smile played in his eyes. Did that mean the books didn’t matter? Matty put the book in Gabriel’s outstretched palm, and as his fingers wrapped over it, he sighed. “Where are the others?”

  “You don’t get those until you’ve gone away. I’ll mail them,” Matty said. “First class post.”

  Gabriel laughed so hard Matty thought he’d choke. She wished he would. Gabriel’s hand shot out to grab her by the neck. Turner jumped to his feet while Catch struggled to get free of Victor.

  “Leave her alone,” Turner snapped.

  “Then tell me where the other two books are,” Gabriel said.

  Matty couldn’t breathe, the pressure on her neck was intense.

  “I don’t fucking know,” Turner shouted, and crossed the room. “Let her go. She can’t speak while you’re throttling her. Matty, tell him where they are.”

  Gabriel lifted her until her feet no longer touched the ground. “Step away or I’ll break her neck.”

  Turner retreated to the wall, no smile in his eyes now. Matty looked into Gabriel’s face. The tip of his fangs showed below his upper lip. Shit. Setting her back on her feet, he twisted her in his arms. Matty cried out when he bit into her neck but he thrust her away with a snarl of disgust. Matty scrambled to Turner and threw herself into his arms. He pulled her close and whispered, “Give him the books.”

  “You don’t taste of anything.” Gabriel stared at her. “Blood doesn’t run in your veins. Nothing runs in your veins. You’re dead? A demon? Angel? Some sort of ghost?” He frowned. “No, that phone call. You’re in the hospital.” The frown slid away and he chuckled. “I can hurt you but I can’t kill you. Still, I could kill Turner.”

  “I think I’d like to leave now.” Pete sidled toward the door.

  “Or I could kill Pete,” Gabriel said. “Those who aren’t with us are against us.”

  A puddle appeared at Pete’s feet and he whimpered. Dava moved to his side and grabbed his hair, tilting his head to expose his neck.

  “Oh please,” she said. “Let me get rid of this disgusting creature.”

  It annoyed Matty that Gabriel had so quickly got the measure of her. He knew she wouldn’t want him to hurt even a guy who hadn’t been on her side. Still, Gabriel didn’t know about the pages she’d ripped out.

  “All right,” Matty shouted. “I’ll give you the books. Let him go. Let everyone go.”

  “You seem to be under the illusion you have some sort of influence here,” Gabriel said. “Give me the books now, or else.”

  “One minute,” Matty said.

  She dashed to the door.

  “Victor, go with her in case she decides to keep running,” Gabriel said.

  Matty heard the guy close the door behind him and he followed the few paces down the hall. She opened the secret compartment, grabbed the books and closed it up again.

  “If you want to help Turner and Catch, don’t interfere,” he whispered, and smiled.

  Oh God, is he on our side?

  The moment she handed the books to Gabriel, all hell broke loose. Catch leapt up and pushed her behind him, a knife flashing in his hand. Furniture went flying as the place erupted in a frenzy of activity. The sounds of fists striking flesh rang out and bodies collided with solid objects as men shouted and snarled and cried out in pain. Everyone moved so fast, whirling around her, Matty could hardly work out what was going on. It was as if she was fast-forwarding an action movie on the TV.

  The only one who wasn’t fighting was Pete. He’d crawled into a corner and sat hugging his knees and rocking, his face pressed into his arms. Matty longed to do the same but she wanted to help Turner and Catch. When Matty moved toward Turner, someone knocked her to one side and she collided with Dava. Matty grabbed Dava’s hair and tried to thrust her away, but it was like pushing a stone pillar. Matty didn’t see the knife coming, but she felt it slide into her chest and it hurt. She toppled backward and Dava fell with her. Matty could see Dava’s hand smoking. So was the knife silver?

  “Let’s see if you can stay alive without your heart,” Dava whispered as she crouched above Matty. “After I cut it out, I’m going to fucking eat it.”

  Matty didn’t think, just acted. She wrapped her hand around handle and yanked out the blade. As she twisted it around, someone grabbed Dava’s hair. Pete. The distraction was all Matty needed. She thrust the blade into Dava’s chest and Pete backed away, trembling, his hand over his mouth. Dava’s eyes opened wide as she fell onto Matty, a rush of warm liquid spreading between them.

  “You can bleed,” Dava said.

  “Not mine.” Matty shoved her to one side and rose to her feet. She looked down at her ruined sweater, lifted it to see no mark on her chest and then gulped when her gaze dropped lower. Dava’s blood was pooling on the wooden floor. What have I done? Dava quivered and then stopped moving. Matty shivered. Did it count as murder if Dava was already half-dead? Maybe in the vampire world there’d be a punishment for what she’d done. A hand settled on her shoulder and she yelped.

  “Matty, it’s okay,” Turner said.

  Dear God, it isn’t.

  Turner pulled a trembling Matty into his arms. “Sweetheart, it’s all over. You were brilliant.”

  “What if she gets up again?”

  “She won’t.” If she did, he’d rip her head off.

  “She m-might. Vampires in the movies don’t d-die that easily.”

  Turner pressed his face into Matty’s hair. “The knife’s silver. It hit her heart. In a bit, she’ll…disappear.”

  “Turner, I need help over here,” Catch shouted.

  Catch leaned over a guy’s leg, trying to staunch the flow of blood with his shirt. The mortal had retreated to the corner. Everyone else had gone.

  Turner scowled. “He’s one of Gabriel’s.”

  “No, he’s not. Seth’s undercover.”

  Turner pulled Matty with him to Catch’s side.

  “He needs blood,” Catch said. “Mine’s not pure enough.”

  Matty’s eyes opened wide as Turner tore open a vein in his wrist and pressed it against Seth’s mouth. For a moment nothing happened, and then Seth’s hands rose to clamp around Turner’s arm and he sucked.

  Catch tugged Matty close and kissed her forehead. “You okay, princess?”

  Matty nodded. “Are you? You’re covered in blood.”

  “Most of it is Seth’s,” Catch said. “Whose blood is this?” He touched her chest.

  “Dava’s. She stabbed me so I stabbed her.”

  “She stabbed you?” Catch lifted her sweater and sighed in relief. “Nothing there.”

  Turner removed his arm from Seth’s mouth and licked his wrist.

  “That licking thing is so useful,” Matty said. “Not very hygienic though.”

  Catch snorted.

  “Sorry about the diaries,” she said. “I did manage to—”

  Turner smiled. “It’s fine. I wanted Gabriel to have them.”

  Matty gaped. “You mean all this was for nothing?”

  “No, it was essential.” Seth pushed himself to a sitting position. “Thanks for the blood. That part wasn’t in the plan.”

  “What fucking plan?” Catch snapped.

  Seth tried to stand and Turner pushed him down. “Take it easy. I’ve Plasmix in the fridge. We could all use some.” Turner walked over to Pete and pulled him to his feet. “You need to go home. You won’t reme
mber the last—seven days. You’ve had the flu.”

  “What if Gabriel’s waiting outside?” Matty whispered.

  “They’ve long gone,” Seth said.

  “But I k-killed Dava. Won’t he want to kill me?”

  Catch stroked her hair. “More likely thank you. No one will miss her.”

  Turner followed Pete out of the room, pointed him toward the door and then made for the kitchen. Gabriel had taken the diaries and gone, which had been Turner’s plan, so why did he have this nagging feeling something wasn’t right? Had this been too easy? Why hadn’t he and Catch been more seriously hurt? Turner grabbed the Plasmix, and as he stepped back into the hall, he saw a tall guy with close-cropped dark hair, a stranger, facing the door of the drawing room. Turner flashed up behind him and wrapped an arm around his throat. Vampire.

  “Take it easy,” the guy said. “I’m on your side.”

  “Open the door and walk in,” Turner ordered.

  “I really am on your side.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Catch surged to his feet. “It’s Mason, my boss. Let him go. If anyone’s going to hurt him, please let it be me.”

  Turner released him.

  “How did you get in?” Catch asked.

  “Mortal just leaving was kind enough to issue an invite.” Mason dropped at Seth’s side and touched his blood-soaked leg. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  When Mason smiled at Matty holding Seth’s hand, Turner growled.

  “Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?” Catch shouted. “I’m knocked out and tied up by my boss, and then I find his boss is Gabriel’s best buddy. Have I fallen into some parallel universe?”

  Seth winced. “I hit you.”

  “I told him to,” Mason said.

  Turner handed two bags of Plasmix to Seth, one to Catch and after offering the last to Mason, who declined, he pulled a chair upright, sat down and drank it himself.

  “Why did you tell Seth to knock me out?” Catch snapped.

  Mason’s mouth twitched. “I was worried you’d fuck things up. When I told Golding you were here, he wanted me to make sure you didn’t interfere. No matter what, Gabriel had to leave with the books.”

  “Turner was expendable?” Matty whispered. “So long as Gabriel left with the diaries, then that was all that mattered? And Catch was expendable too?”

  Mason shrugged. “I tried to keep Catch out of it.”

  Matty grabbed Catch’s rising fist and wrapped her fingers around it, and Turner smiled.

  Seth dropped his second empty bag. “This whole operation was put together long before Gabriel was released from prison. Devlin and I have been working undercover, looking for Purelight supporters. Devlin’s the black guy who left with Gabriel, Nick and Victor—rather, Golding.”

  Turner’s fingers tightened on the arms of the chair. “That was Golding?”

  “Who’s Golding?” Matty asked.

  “The head of the Supernatural Bureau of Investigation,” Catch said. “And he kicks hard.”

  “No,” Turner muttered. “What the fuck is going on?”

  “Golding had to make it look good when he kicked you,” Seth said.

  “You probably deserved it.” Mason snorted and Catch glared.

  “But he’s not Golding,” Turner said.

  “Yeah, he is,” three voices said in unison.

  Turner felt material tear under his nails. He’d been tricked. Again.

  “Why wasn’t I told what was happening?” Catch asked.

  “Because of your relationship with Turner,” Mason said.

  Catch growled. “Relationship? I haven’t seen him for twenty fucking years.”

  Mason raised his eyebrows and Catch crumpled. Turner’s brain struggled to work.

  “This part of the operation has been in place for months,” Mason said. “Seth and Devlin unearthed Nick, made friends with him and waited for Gabriel’s discharge before introducing Golding to Gabriel as Victor—a driver, minder, finder, whatever the hell Gabriel wants him to be. He’s pretending to be a were, using were scent to disguise his vampire. Golding’s been waiting twenty years to flush out the Council member who voted for Gabriel and Dava’s imprisonment rather than execution. Whoever this member is, Golding reckons he wants control of the whole Council and sees Gabriel as a means of achieving that.”

  “I think maybe I know who it is,” Turner said.

  All faces turned in his direction.

  “Sort of,” he corrected. “After the trial I was approached by a vampire who introduced himself as Golding. He said despite the Court declaring the books to be lies, not all members of the Council were in agreement. This guy, who I now see was pretending to be Golding, knew I’d never work as an historian again and he offered me a job, researching the copies he was sure I’d made since I was so insistent the books weren’t fakes. It became clear there was information missing and I told him there was no way to identify the plants mentioned in the books. He persuaded me to keep trying. Every time I tried to stop, he pushed me to keep looking.”

  Turner snorted in disgust. “The guy couldn’t give a shit if the diaries had any truth in them or not. He just needed me to believe in them so Gabriel would too. He relied on the fact I’d want to drop out of society after the trial. How would I know he wasn’t who he said he was?”

  “Describe him,” Mason said.

  “My height, six four, dark hair to his shoulders and a blue tattoo under his hair on the left side of his temple.”

  “Feynman,” said Mason.

  The color leached out of Catch’s face and his mouth tightened in a thin line. Turner wondered what Feynman was to Catch.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  There was nothing Turner wanted more than to shut the door on the world and go upstairs with Matty and Catch, but the drawing room couldn’t be left in this state, blood everywhere and Dava beginning to decompose. He persuaded Matty to go upstairs to take a bath while he, Catch, Mason and Seth sorted out the room. Everything stained and broken was thrown out and blood washed away. Turner had made sure Matty didn’t see the remains of Dava. She hadn’t exactly disappeared, more dissolved into sludge. An unpleasant reminder of what lay in store for mortally injured older vampires unless the sun burned them to ash.

  Mason was waiting for Golding to return his call. Turner knew Catch was furious at having been kept out of the loop, but it wasn’t just that. The name Feynman had unleashed something inside him. He slammed ’round in a temper, sloshing water everywhere. The rug was already ruined so Turner bit his tongue. Turner had given Seth a new set of clothes and put his blood-soaked ones in a pile to be burned. Seth was suitably grateful for the gift of his blood, and Turner suggested a way Seth could repay him before he and Mason left Milford.

  When Mason’s cell phone rang, they all stopped working to listen. Mason explained to Golding how Turner had been tricked by someone pretending to be him and finally gave Golding the name he’d sought for twenty years.

  “Feynman,” Mason said.

  Golding released a long sigh. “Will Turner testify about what Feynman asked him to do?”

  Mason looked at Turner and he nodded.

  “Yes,” Mason said.

  “Let me speak to him.”

  Mason gave Turner the phone.

  “If Feynman contacts you, tell him everything that happened apart from the SBI’s involvement,” Golding said. “You’ve just handed him to me. Thank you.”

  “I should tell you the books Gabriel took, they’re not exact copies. I thought if he came, I’d try to mislead him. I changed things. Gabriel will tie himself in knots trying to sort it out.”

  Golding laughed. “I’ve just left him and Nick reading them.”

  Turner handed the phone back and Mason switched it off.

  “This room is as good as you’ll make it,” Mason told Turner. “Come on, Seth. I’ll drive you home before sunup. Catch, take the rest of the week off.”

  “I
’m not coming—”

  Turner wrapped his arm around Catch’s throat and squeezed before he could finish. Turner wanted Catch to resign but not in the heat of the moment. They locked the door after the two had gone and Turner leaned back on it and sighed with relief. A sudden bang made him jump. He opened the door.

  “At last,” said Diana Rolfe. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Oh, you’re both zombies. I thought you were a vampire?”

  Turner gaped at her.

  “Why did you only give my cake a four out of twenty?”

  “Have you tasted it?” Turner asked.

  “No, I’m on a diet.”

  “Well, try it. It’s not good.” He started to close the door and she put out her hand.

  “Do you have my knife?”

  “Ah yes, I borrowed it.” Catch lifted the knife by the cloth from a side table and offered it to her.

  Diana wrinkled her nose. “I hope you didn’t do anything disgusting with it.”

  “A bit of pest control,” Catch said.

  Turner slammed the door on her screech.

  “We need to burn our clothes too,” Catch said, and stripped off.

  Turner yanked his shirt over his head and unbuttoned his pants.

  “It could have been worse,” Catch said. “There might have been something we couldn’t put right. If anything had happened…”

  “I know.” Turner shuddered.

  Catch tugged him into his arms and kissed him. A long, slow, deep kiss that spoke of their relief, their joy and their love. Catch’s cock grew and thickened next to Turner’s, trapped between their bodies.

  Turner nibbled Catch’s lip and then pulled away. “Feynman.”

  Catch stiffened.

  “How do you know him?” Turner asked.

  “A name from my past.”

  Turner rubbed his forehead against Catch’s. “Did he hurt you?”

  It was a moment before Catch spoke. “When I was a boy, he and a group of his pals liked to throw me to one another when they’d finished with me.”