The smell of him was palpable now that he was close, a foetid, animal stink.
‘It wasn’t him,’ said Janine, her voice closing to a squeak when Mallory rounded on her.
‘You, was it?’ He took a step forward, looming over her.
They were all on their feet now. Amanda had left her bundle on the bench, wanting both of her hands free.
‘Maybe it was me,’ said Amanda.
Now Mallory’s eyes were on her.
‘I was locked up in a grandiose garden shed at the time, but since you’re just accusing anyone you look at, why not me?’
‘Who the fuck are you?’ the small man demanded.
‘She doesn’t know any better,’ said Chitra, suddenly speaking up. ‘She only just…’
The table rattled as Mallory stormed down the bench towards Amanda, reaching out an arm.
Amanda was ready, but the man had the momentum, pushing her back towards the wall. He tried to bring a forearm up across her throat, but she managed to slip under it. Working her way out between the wall and him, she gave him a shove, causing him to stumble.
Her anger rose to meet his; this jumped-up little irate bully desperate to grind those around him under his heel. She’d recognised it the moment she’d seen him, the bottomless well of insecurity and despair she’d seen in so many like him. The kind of men that needed to pull people lower because they had no way to climb themselves.
It was a man like this who had her daughter. It was the kind of man her father had been. It was the kind of man Harry was, and Amanda was making a stand. She wasn’t much of a fighter, but in that moment she didn’t care. She was tired of it all. Just like she’d been tired as the police had closed in around her on that fucked-up job that had brought her here. Whatever happened was going to happen.
Mallory looked like he was about to explode, his face growing pink, a vein beginning to pop across his temple.
Bracing herself, Amanda began to wonder how she’d win this. The others were backing away, taking no part in it. The guards seemed content to watch behind their mirrored visors. She had no chilli powder this time and wasn’t sure she’d have the time to weave the blast she’d used to lay out Anderson.
There had been a time when Caleb had pulled her from these situations. A man like Mallory wouldn’t have lasted ten seconds under her best friend’s fists. But Caleb was dead now. She didn’t deserve his protection then and she certainly didn’t deserve it now.
She screwed her hands to fists, then released them. Screwed and released. Unsure of what to do.
Mallory reached a hand over his shoulder, like he was grasping for something. His hand came back holding a baseball bat, like it had been sheathed between his shoulder blades. Cut with sigils, the wood was rough. It had probably been smooth once, but now it was so dented, so battered, that it was covered in stray fibres.
The sight of the bat made Amanda’s toes curl, made the breath freeze in her chest. She could picture the weight of it when it swung. She somehow knew how hard it could hit, feel its heft, knew the sound it made when it connected with a knee, a cheek, a temple. She knew what it felt like for bone to give way beneath it, for sinew to snap, for hair to cling to the tip when it came away.
It was a centrum, she realised. Something out of the history books. An object, magic-infused over years. The thing sweated fear, it filled the room with it. All the people who had died on it, Amanda could feel their final realisation that the time they had left was measured in the length of its swing. This thing had drunk their fear, gorged on their last moments and now it sang with them and everyone in the room could hear it. It was almost symbiotic with its wielder, Mallory’s anger giving it life, awakening the last thoughts and fears of its victims that suffused its fibres.
This was what was going to kill her and it was going to do that right now. It would break her arm first as she tried to defend herself. Then her face, again and again and again and again and…
Mallory came forward and Amanda started retreating, but there was a table behind her and nowhere else to go.
There was shouting everywhere, one voice high above the others.
The table met the back of her thighs. She raised an arm to shield herself as Mallory raised the bat and…
‘Stop it right now!’
The world collapsed.
Ears starting to ring, Amanda blinked as she found herself face down on the floor, her cheek pressed painfully into the cold tiles.
She couldn’t move, the floor itself or something below it sucking her down, trying to pull her whole body through the tile cracks. Every limb felt like lead, bones creaking, breath squeezed from her chest.
Eyes rolling, vision blurring, she could see others on the floor around her.
The two guards began to pick their way through the tangle of bodies at their feet, heading closer. Their fingers were held taut in twin cantrips, both ring fingers held an inch apart, pulling against an invisible force.
Looking down the length of her body, over the lump of her hand, she could see that Mallory was still standing.
Tendons were stark on his tattooed neck and forearms, taut to the point of snapping as he fought the guards’ power. His whole body was shaking, sweat and strain beading his face, knees bending, back curling as though something was pressing down hard on his shoulders.
The guards drew their fingers further from one another, eliciting groans from those already prostrate on the floor. The small man growled, his spine bending, knees folding, shuddering from the effort. The bat, still in the air, began to bend back over his head.
There were wards hidden in the floors, she realised, and the guards had awakened them, using them as crowd control.
Those on the floor began to shout for mercy as the pressure increased. Amanda felt her ribs creak, her vision starting to darken.
Beyond the benches she could see Janine staring straight back at her, breath coming in shallow gulps. Eyes locked, Amanda watched as the woman’s gaze began to lose focus.
Just drop, Amanda silently pleaded with the man still on his feet, her thoughts fuzzing and only half felt. Just drop.
But the man didn’t budge, crumbling as the guards pulled their fingers further and further apart.
‘Mallory,’ a voice called, the voice sounding underwater to Amanda’s ears, ‘for fuck’s sake.’
Mallory finally dropped to his knees. The bat had disappeared, returned to wherever he kept it.
The last thing Amanda saw was Mallory fold forward to the floor.
Chapter Nine
‘Wake up.’ Someone was tapping at her face, insistent. ‘Come on. We haven’t much time.’
Turning her head, Amanda tried to get away.
‘That’s it. Come on.’
She raised a hand to fend them off, realising at the same time that her eyes were closed. She opened them.
‘There you are,’ said Zoe. ‘Jesus, he might have killed you. Come on, sit up.’
Amanda was lying on a sofa. The whole room was strange, completely unlike the bunker she’d been in only a moment before. It was painted in a creamy white for a start. She was on one of three sofas, all of them facing one another around a low glass coffee table that was littered with empty beer cans, crisp packets and, for some reason, a roll of kitchen tissue. A flat-screen television took up the fourth side of the table; a games console sat beneath it.
Behind her, the room stretched out. There was a long, white conference table, lined with a dozen office chairs and a whiteboard, smeared with the memory of erased thoughts. A single door stood in the corner of the room, the only exit. There were no windows.
‘Our home away from home,’ said Zoe. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Like I’ve fallen off a building.’
‘Better than being dead. He was going to kill you.’
‘I wasn’t expecting the bat,’ Amanda admitted, watching as Zoe shuddered.
‘No. No one expects that. He’s not even meant to have it on him except
for jobs, but he was out looking for blood today. His masculine pride’s taken a bit of a knock recently. Luckily, even the guards know when enough’s enough. If they hadn’t stepped in…’
‘Those cantrips they used…?’
‘You’ve probably already felt it. How every step feels like you’re walking uphill down there? Like the gravity’s turned up?’
‘There are wards under the floor.’
‘And the walls. And the ceiling. It’s a form of population control. Another way they keep the prisoners downtrodden around here. When they start to get a little rowdy, all the guards have to do is turn it up. They can do a single person or a whole room. The whole place if they have enough guards on hand.’
‘It works. Can’t deny them that. It doesn’t affect them?’
‘Something to do with the armour. How are you feeling? The others are going to be arriving any minute.’
‘I’m fine,’ Amanda lied. ‘Who are the others? Where are we?’
‘Call it our private wing. One of the perks of working for Harry. Fitz likes us tucked away, doesn’t want the general pop overhearing too much. Not as good as actual freedom, but the next best thing. The others are the rest of Harry’s crew. Just to warn you, they’re going to want to know where you’ve been. Harry has already made it clear he doesn’t trust you. Keeps saying you’re a backstabber, but he won’t say why. Just that we’re to watch you. Where were you? You spend all that time with the warden?’
‘Spent the first day in some solitary garden shed freezing my tits off. I think he wanted me “compliant” when he met me.’
‘Yeah, that sounds about right.’
There came the clump of boots on stairs.
‘Here they come,’ said Zoe, getting to her feet.
‘Thanks,’ said Amanda, looking Zoe in the eye. ‘For helping me.’
Zoe managed a half-smile before the door swung open, cutting the expression from her face.
Harry appeared in the doorway. Stairs led up behind him. He was red-faced, like the cold salt air had rubbed him raw. Though he was dressed exactly as he had been on the boat, Amanda noted that his knees and boots were muddied.
‘There she is.’ With his hands in his pockets, he sauntered into the room towards the sofas, his demeanour completely at odds with when they had last parted ways. Something had changed, she realised as he passed her. Fuck, but she couldn’t get a handle on this place.
‘Here I am,’ Amanda agreed, wary. ‘I’ve been told by at least three people about all the benefits you’ve been getting, Church – hard to believe they extend to long beach walks.’ She looked pointedly at the sand on his legs.
Lowering himself into one of the sofas, Harry gave the contented sigh of a man at the end of a long day. He hitched a leg and spread his arms across the back, a king returned to his palace. He put a finger to his lips and Amanda saw that one nostril was crusted with blood. ‘Don’t tell anyone. That’s just between you, me and our friend Drummond out there.’
He pointed Amanda to the sofa opposite.
She did as she was bid.
Zoe hovered to one side, listening in.
‘Boss,’ the woman tapped at her nose.
Harry’s hand came up to his own, his fingers coming away red. ‘Fuck. Cheers.’ He accepted the roll of kitchen tissue that Zoe proffered from the table. ‘Had some time to think,’ said Harry, wiping away smears of blood. ‘Bit of a shock seeing you on that boat. Lot of years have passed. Brought back a lot of things. And with that posh bastard trying to fuck with me, I thought he… You were right. You’d make a terrible fucking spy. Just count your lucky stars Zoe was there. Otherwise…’ he snorted as a thought caught him. ‘Heard you had a run-in with Mallory already. What you make of that bat of his?’
‘I’d say I’ve now seen the purest embodiment of male insecurity the world has to offer.’
To her surprise, Harry laughed, a full-bellied chuckle that filled the room. ‘Don’t let him hear you say that. You talked to Fitzackley?’
‘After he locked me away for a day.’
‘And what did he say?’
‘You first. I want to know what’s going on between the two of you.’
The mirth flickered on his face, his jaw setting in frustration. He’d always been a man who liked to dictate terms, advocacy from others set his teeth on edge. But he shrugged it off. Scrunching the used tissue in his fist, he flicked it across the table towards her, where it rolled to a stop, bloody side up.
‘Let’s just say we don’t see eye to eye.’ There was still blood in his beard, like he’d just bitten the throat from a wild animal.
‘How about we don’t say that?’ Amanda snapped. ‘Everyone’s talking around everything, thinking someone else has explained it all to me. How about you explain to me how you managed to end up here? You’re walking around like you own the place, the guards are in your pocket, you’ve got these swish rooms, complete with beer and bar snacks, and the warden’s having me report on you. And while we’re on that, if he doesn’t like you, what’s stopping him just sending you back to the mainland for the rope? He doesn’t need me for this.’
‘So he did ask you to spy on me?’
‘You first.’
‘For starters, the guards aren’t in our pocket,’ said Zoe. ‘They’re still the warden’s. They’re just under orders to turn a blind eye to us.’
‘And Drummond’s taken that a bit further than the warden would have liked,’ said Harry. ‘We gave him a bit of added incentive to give us some secret strolling privileges.’ He winked, clearly pleased with himself.
‘Why? What do you do for him? It has to be money. You have to be worth more to Fitzackley alive to warrant all this Machiavellian bullshit.’
‘Is that what you think?’ Harry smiled, enjoying toying with her.
Amanda scowled.
‘Oh for fuck’s sake,’ said Zoe. ‘He hires us out. To the highest bidders on the mainland. Someone wants a witness intimidated. Documents stolen. Someone taken out of the picture. They come to the warden and he sends us.’
‘For a hefty fee,’ said Harry, the smile gone now.
‘And he has us do some private projects.’
‘The girl,’ Harry sniffed.
‘Past year there’s been this girl,’ Zoe explained. ‘Powerful magic user, developed this amazing new method of rune notation. But she’s on her own and Fitz wants us to grab her so he can find out how she does it. So whenever he thinks he knows where she’s hiding, he sends us. Only problem is, she can skip through space like some kind of teleport. Pain in the fucking arse.’
‘Worth a lot of money,’ said Harry.
‘So you’re fixers,’ said Amanda.
‘Fixers with the perfect alibi,’ Zoe smiled. ‘Can’t have been us: we’re locked up in one of the highest-security facilities in the world. And in exchange, we get some supervised trips to the mainland. In this place, the guards turn a blind eye. It beats real prison. Or hanging. I mean, we thought about running at one point, when we were out on a job, but then, can you imagine being out there in hiding with Fitz on your tail? No way it would be better than this. Not unless we could be sure we got away clean.’
Harry shifted in his chair. Amanda could tell by the look that passed between them that they’d discussed running more than once. Being caged didn’t sit well with Harry, no matter how gilded the bars might be.
‘Except Fitzackley doesn’t trust you any more,’ said Amanda.
‘He’s paranoid,’ Harry shrugged, his tone not working hard enough to convince her that the warden’s concerns were unwarranted. ‘What did he say to you?’
‘What you said he would. I’m to join your operation here and report anything I learn. He thinks you’re planning on escaping. I’ve got to tell him the plan, he cuts you off at the knees, you keep working for him. Karina has him spooked. He doesn’t want anyone on the mainland looking too close and finding out what he’s set up here, said he’d shut the island down before that happ
ens. He wants to know what happened to Karina and he wants me to confirm who attacked her and how she got out.’
‘Anxious to know that myself,’ said Harry. ‘Little thing like that slipping through our fingers. Doesn’t look good. Have we, eh…’ he looked to Zoe, expectantly.
‘We’re working on it now,’ she replied.
He nodded, turning his gaze back on Amanda, eyes obscured by his tinted glasses. ‘So what are you going to tell him?’
‘What do you want me to tell him?’
Harry smiled at that, nodding, smug. Just like Amanda wanted him.
‘Tell him the truth. Mallory did it.’
‘I think he suspects that already.’
‘And that’s why you’re going to tell him,’ Harry shook his head like he was talking to a child. ‘We’re done here.’ He heaved himself to his feet. ‘You keep your head down and doing what I say,’ he pointed a finger at Amanda, ‘and you might just live long enough for us to get along.’
He went back the way he’d come.
There was more noise on the stairs now, men calling to one another, boots thudding.
‘Here come our inquisitors now,’ said Harry, holding the door open. ‘You tell Fitz we’re leaving no stone unturned. Have her back before the guards even get a whiff.’ Turning, he called something up the stairs, and got an inaudible reply in return.
‘He’s changed his tune,’ said Amanda, low so only Zoe could hear. ‘He was ready to kill me, yesterday.’
‘He likes it when you’re doing what you’re told,’ said Zoe.
‘That why he and the warden are fighting? Two swinging dicks?’
‘I guess. Just started happening that way. When I was brought here, it was all fine. But the operations started getting successful. Fitzackley realised how valuable Harry was to him and started getting paranoid, like Harry was going to fuck him over somehow. So he’s trying to keep Harry compliant. And the more he tries…’
‘The more Harry hates it. Sounds about right. Should Fitz be paranoid?’
‘I don’t know. Look at him. He look like someone that’s chaffing?’
Harry was staring up the stairs still, foot tapping impatiently. Amanda thought about how he had acted on the boat, comparing it with his behaviour now. Harry hadn’t calmed down after she’d told him she’d followed his orders. He had been calm when he’d come into the room, which meant that something had already happened to put his mind at ease.
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