by Richard Amos
Dean put out his cigarette, slouching forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Nice spot.”
It was—pretty epic actually, sea wind in my hair. “Not too shabby,” I agreed.
“Better than the digs back at the facility. More like a dungeon with zero daylight.”
“How come?”
“Can’t be letting the prisoners have any sort of window for opportunity or sunlight. Staff have to suffer too.”
“What’s it like there?”
He sat back. “Grim as hell. Dark, cold, miserable, full of rages and crying from the beasts wanting to be free, using all the tactics they can deploy. Kind of pathetic. Nothing works, ever. Nothing ever gets out.”
“No breakouts?”
“Never.”
“Good to know.”
“There’s beasts in there who should never see the light of day again. If they do, we’re fucked.”
“Very good to know there are no breakouts.”
“Could happen.”
“Not so good to know.”
He crossed his arms. “Complacency is the enemy. Never get too comfortable with anything.”
“Maybe I should go in there and clean it out.”
“That would be the worst thing to do.”
“How come?”
“That would mean opening certain cell doors again. Once they were closed, that’s it.”
Now his role was the creepy narrator, albeit with a husky voice. “Skip that idea, then.”
“Yeah. Anyway, I’m going in.”
“Okay.”
He left without another word.
I remained on the bench a bit longer. It really was a nice spot to take a break. Shame I couldn’t cast all the thoughts running through my head over the cliff for a bigger slice of reprieve.
Chapter 28
I caught up with Greg in his bedroom about an hour later, ten minutes before the meeting was due to start.
I loved Greg’s room. There were things everywhere, geeky things—including a Star Wars lava lamp—retro things, and he loved Coldharbour’s cricket team going by the poster on his wall, the alarm clock by his bed and the mouse mat at his PC. I was only dragged into the cricket thing back when I was a kid by my dad—he would take me down to The Oval for some matches in an attempt to indoctrinate me.
Apparently, the city had been in a permanent state of out-of-sports-season ever since it’d been cut off, the cricket grounds and the football stadium seeing no action, a spell around them to compel the teams away from training there.
Greg missed his cricket so much. He was the kind of guy to go watch a game and crack open a cold beer with—I so would regardless. Okay, a soft drink for me instead of the beer, but still a cold one.
There was a TV mounted to the wall, currently screening The Empire Strikes Back. The man himself was sitting on his bed, thumbing through a battered-looking magazine.
“All right, mate?” I said, closing the door behind me. “You wanted to see me?”
“Look what I found.” He held up the magazine, flipping it round so I could see the spread inside.
“Bloody hell!” There I was, wearing nothing but the pink and white striped underwear which left almost nothing to the imagination. My first gig, the face of a new male underwear range called Candy Boy. “Where’d you get that?” Jesus, look at those poses!
“Is that for real or a sock stuffed down there?”
“Socks are for the feet.” I winked at him.
He snorted. “What come-to-bed-eyes you have.”
“That was actually harder work than you’d think, posing like that.”
“Well, you make it look easy.” He looked me up and down and licked his lips. “I so would.”
I laughed. “You slut.”
“Yeah, baby.”
“Seriously, where the hell did you get that? That’s about four years old.”
He closed the magazine. “Goblin gave it to me, said he was sick of his wife looking at those pictures and making him feel like he’d never be good enough.”
“What the fuck?”
“Yeah, he came up to me in the street and shoved it in my hand. Said some shit about you. Don’t worry, I gave it back to him.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Goblins have sexy feelings too.”
“You’re having me on.”
“Nope. Being serious, mate. Jealousy is an ugly thing, I told him that.”
“I, er, don’t know what to say.”
“You shouldn’t be so naked, sir. You send ladies all in a flurry.”
I rolled my eyes, face obviously now the shade of beetroot.
“Ah, don’t be embarrassed.”
“I’m not. It’s flattering, the attention. I just couldn’t imagine I’d be attractive to a goblin. Too human and all that, right?”
“Clearly not. But there you go.”
“There are better pictures of me,” I said. “Bit less in your face. Not that … shit. I sound like a bleedin’ narcissist.”
“Be proud, man!”
“I am.”
“Don’t think too hard on the goblin thing.”
“Kind of weird when you think someone is getting off to your pictures, no matter who it is. But it is flattering. In fact, it’s quite cool seeing those pics again.”
He closed the magazine. “You miss it?”
“Big time. Don’t miss what I became though.”
“You never know, you could make a comeback.”
“Don’t think I’d have it in me now,” I said. “Not after everything.”
“You could have a massive goblin following waiting for your big return.”
“Did you ask me here to torment me with pictures from my past?”
He grinned. “Not torment, more show you how weird the world can be.”
“What? That I’m destined to be in Coldharbour and it just so happens I have a goblin super fan here?”
“If you like.”
“Thanks for the trip down memory lane.”
“No problem.”
I swiped the magazine from him. Elixir, my first spread. The publication had lasted a year and folded, but I’d gone through the stratosphere by then, burning bright and dying fast. Looking at the man on the pages was like looking at a ghost. I wasn’t him anymore.
“I ain’t upset you, have I?”
I gave him my best frown. “Don’t be fucking stupid.”
“Just a bit of fun.”
“What did I just say? You think I’m that bloody sensitive? Have a word with yaself.”
He snorted.
God, I’d been so excited back then, so up for it, so determined to make it. The world had been mine for the taking, and I’d taken it by the balls. Hard … too hard.
“She could have more,” I said. “I did a naked spread once. No dick pics, but arse on display—all black and white and tasteful on a beach in the Bahamas. She’ll have a stash.”
“At least you’re making her happy.”
“Hope I don’t bump into the husband. Be a bit awkward.”
“Yeah, he’s got a bit of an attitude on him.”
I laughed and handed the magazine back to him. “Ready to go downstairs, or are you about to pull out my one foray into porn?”
He bolted upright. “What the hell?”
“Back Alley Bangers 5,” I said. “A classic.”
He was shell-shocked. “You didn’t.”
“Well, no. But almost.”
“You considered it?”
“In my horny moments, yeah. Would have necked me a few quid.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. Pretty glad I didn’t. If I had, the goblin’s husband would have put a hit on me.”
For some reason that set Greg off into a laughter fit punctuated by snorts. It took him ten minutes to recover, by which time Nay was banging on his bedroom door.
“Get your arses downstairs!” she called. “What the hell are you doing?”
Chapter 29
“The facts are this,” Karla said, all of us gathered around the dining table. “The purple-haired woman is not a beast known to Floyd. So, we must investigate her further. Have your ears firmly to the ground. I will keep trying with Floyd—maybe he requires more sustenance in order to give more information. The same with the killer who removes lungs.” She sighed. “Naomi? If you would, please.”
“We need to find the cat man,” she said. “If Purple wants him, it won’t be long before she strikes. I took traces of him from his home and have a tracking spell scanning the city. So far, it hasn’t pinged. I’m hopeful it will.”
“Either Purple or the killer will turn up,” I said.
“Yes,” Karla said. “I want both captured alive.” There was fierce darkness in her tone.
“Shit.”
“I think she may be Lilisian,” Karla said.
The Supreme uber-beast empress. “Oh.” I gnawed on my bottom lip, resisting my fingernails.
“Quite,” Karla said. “If I am right, then Lilisian’s essence is trapped in that broken body.”
“And stuck in a wheelchair, being pushed around by Purple all day. Can’t be fun.”
“That is the result of the curse put upon her it seems,” Karla said. “I am waiting for confirmation from Floyd—if indeed he gives it. Mr. Douglas?”
There was the sound of squeaky wheels. Moments later, Mr. Douglas came in wheeling a hostess trolley with Floyd in his jar sat on it.
“Filth!” Floyd shrieked as he caught sight of me. “I’ll chew your tongue from your face!”
“Good luck with that,” I said.
“Don’t talk to me, unworthy scum.”
Mr. Douglas parked the trolley beside Karla, standing sentinel beside it in that stoic way he always did.
“Floyd,” Karla said. “Please repeat what you told me earlier.”
His gray tongue licked his vile lips. “Coming up again, the ancient one, bound and broken, coming up … coming up …” His red eyes blazed. “The weapon is the gift.” He laughed his horrible dead laugh. “As if a runt like you could be a gift.” He roared with laughter.
“Thank you, Floyd.”
Mr. Douglas wheeled him away, his laughing taking forever to fade out.
“Gift?” I said. “I’m a gift for what?”
“I do not know,” Karla answered. “However, I think it does not involve Lilisian.”
“Because Purple wants Jake dead,” Nay said. “Therefore, so does Lilisian. Jake’s a gift for some other beast.”
Great.
“Exactly,” Karla said. “I will keep working on Floyd. Be careful. There is far more going on than what we have already seen.”
“Got to find the cat man,” Nay said. “He may know something. Just hope we can get to him in time.”
“What happens if we get him?” I asked.
“We use him as bait,” Greg said. “And grill him.”
“Shit,” I said. This was all so … intense. “Have you checked outside?”
“No sign of him.”
I hadn’t heard any meowing. “He can’t be far, he asked for help.”
“Jake?” Karla said. “I would like to remind you of something. This cat man is a beast. Now I know he had a human partner, but this means nothing. He still cannot be trusted. He wanted your help to enact vengeance. That is all. In all my time in this city, I have yet to come across a noble beast.”
The cat man was still the enemy, she was right. Maybe he wasn’t like the others, maybe he was. The chill in her voice stopped me from saying anymore. And who could blame her? This had been her living hell.
Still, there was something with the cat man that wasn’t like the other beasts I’d come across. He could be laughing his whiskers off at me with Purple and the lung-stealing killer over cocktails, celebrating him getting one over on me. So easy luring me out of the wards like he had—next time, it would be my death sentence.
His pain, though, his sobs over poor Lucy … I knew what that was, had experienced it for myself. He was either a bloody good liar or an exception to the beast rules.
Time would tell.
“I hear you are all going dancing this evening,” Karla said, whipping away the blanket of silence that’d fallen.
“Can’t wait,” Nay said.
“Remember, no drinking.”
“So loud and unbearably clear, Karla. We don’t care about the booze anyway.”
“Yeah, right,” Greg said. “You’re telling me you don’t wanna get smashed on vodka tonight?”
Nay grinned. “The man knows me too well.”
“I think it is a good thing to have your lives, to see your friends,” Karla said softly. “You must miss them. And how wonderful for Jake and Dean to meet them. As I have said before, it is important to have these moments of normal life in these dark years. As long as you are not foolish, all will be well. I wish you a great evening.”
“One hour,” Nay said.
I saw Karla nod approvingly.
“Eleven,” Nay added. “Club will be buzzing by then.”
“What club we doing?” I asked.
“The Mermaid,” she answered.
“On Rainbow?”
“No, babe. Up Baby Rainbow.”
“What the hell is that?”
She giggled. “Officially called Seagull Lane, known colloquially as Baby Rainbow. You know the place with all the pubs and clubs?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“The Mermaid is the jewel in the street’s crown.”
“Awesome.”
“You just wait, babe.”
Chapter 30
Mid-afternoon, I was on Mystique Square with Naomi, our patrolling schedule switched up a bit. The sun was really giving it all it had, bringing with it a miniscule bit of warmth that the bitter air worked hard to repress.
“In here,” she said, gesturing to a clothes shop.
The store had low ceilings complete with beams, the floor wooden, and each wall was sponge-painted. There was even a fireplace with an antique clock resting on the mantelpiece. It had a dusty, worn-out vibe to it, with the juxtaposition of new clothes all fresh and waiting to be free. I liked it.
“Oh, my God!” Nay dove forward at once, grabbing a sparkly blue halter-neck top. When it caught the light, it was an azure disco ball. “This is the one.”
There was a goblin in the corner of the shop, knitting, letting her magic keep this place going. She looked up at me. Oh God! Was it her, my admirer? She frowned at me, waved a dismissive hand at my staring, and got back to work.
I turned away, heading for the men’s section, relieved as hell.
This was a patrol within a shopping trip to find a perfect and practical clubbing outfit. All I could think about was Lucy. The longer it had to sink in, the worse I was feeling about dancing tonight. But I didn’t say anything. Burning off some steam would be a good thing. Naomi kept reassuring me it would be great for helping us focus, shaking off the bullshit nasty stuff.
“Look at this.” Nay had the top draped over her arm and was holding up the skimpiest cobalt dress and a matching pair of killer heels.
“You’d look amazing in that,” I said.
“I know, right?” She pouted. “Stupid city. Just look at this masterpiece!”
I wouldn’t have called it that, but sure. “Such a waste.”
“Still buying it.”
“Oh?”
“Making it a goal to wear it one day when I don’t have to worry about running and kicking a beast in the face.”
“Those heels would do some wicked cool damage, though.”
“Yep. Almost tempting to give them a spin.”
“Probably more of a hindrance than anything else.”
“So unfair. You found anything, babe?”
“Not yet.”
She nodded. “Will leave you to it. Need to get some rocking trousers.” She teetered off like a kid in a sweet shop.
Right, back to the job at h
and. Hadn’t dressed up in a long while, and it was nice to actually think about doing so.
I went through the racks, seeing a few things that piqued my interest, until my eyes finally settled on a white shirt that blew my mind. It had these amazing silver patches randomly placed on it, fringe tassels dangling from them, and silver trim around the tunic collar, with ruffled sleeves and silver buttons. It was a combination of renaissance and pirate couture, the last thing I’d expected to see.
“Hello,” I said to the garment. Man, it was like the good old days of high fashion and catwalks, the art of the designers all around me. I’d got so high on all that before the cocaine had taken over. In fact, it was the best kind of high, the creativity, the fact that I got to wear it and strut down the runway. I’d forgotten how much I loved fashion.
I reached for it …
“Hi!” I jumped out of my skin, hand recoiling in horror. Please tell me the clothes didn’t talk here!
“You okay?”
I turned to see Crystal standing behind me.
“Oh, hi. Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Nice shirt,” she said.
Her blonde hair was scraped back, her body swallowed by a white puffer jacket. “It is. How you doing?”
“Glad to be out of work,” she said. “Mental morning.”
“Punters were really piling in, eh?”
“Ah, it’s all good really. Just need a nap and I’ll be fine.” She pushed a loose strand of her behind her ear. “So, you must have a big night out or something if you’re eyeing that shirt up?” She had the longest eyelashes I’d ever seen. I hadn’t really noticed before.
“The Mermaid,” I said. “Dance session.”
“Oh, nice! Is Greg going?”
“Babe!” Naomi came rushing over. The two women air kissed and hugged. “What you doing here?”
“Got the rest of the day off,” she said. “No more slicing and frying for me.”
“Fabulous. You out tonight? We’re going to The Mermaid. Why don’t you come? Greg will be there.”
“That’ll be nice.”
Nay threw an arm around her. “Come over here and see these tops. You’re gonna die!” She led Crystal away. “All right, babe?” she asked me.
“I’m good.”
“We can all grab a sandwich after, yeah?”