The Noose Of A New Moon (Wolfbrand Book 1)

by Helen Harper

  The man’s head dropped once more. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve failed. I should have done better by her.’

  Devereau rolled his eyes. Pathetic. ‘Martina deserves better than you.’

  Her father gave him a confused frown. ‘Who’s Martina?’

  Devereau slammed his hand against the bars of the cage, making it rattle violently. ‘You’re her father. You’re supposed to protect her!’ Blood-red rage filled him. ‘You … you…’

  ‘Devereau.’ Scarlett spoke quietly. He pulled himself back from the brink and looked at her. ‘Not everyone is as strong as you. This isn’t the time for recriminations. Let’s find a way to open these cages then look for Phillips. We still need to find him and make sure he doesn’t escape. He has to pay for what he’s done.’

  ‘Actually,’ said a loud, chillingly familiar voice from the doorway, ‘it is the two of you who need to pay.’

  Scarlett and Devereau turned. Without his mask and tailored tuxedo, and without an adoring audience at his feet, Dominic Phillips looked very ordinary. His skin was healthy looking, with enough of an orange tinge to suggest fake tan, and his stubble was definitely of the designer variety, but his body was slight and his face wasn’t memorable. Only his eyes gave him away as a sadistic bastard.

  Devereau’s gaze dropped. Phillips was holding something in his hand. It wasn’t a weapon – Devereau wasn’t sure what it was, but it worried him, however. Phillips’ thumb stroked it possessively.

  ‘You’re Dominic Phillips.’

  ‘And you’re Devereau Webb. Look at you. Turned yourself into a werewolf and hit the big time. But it doesn’t matter how many teeth you grow or how much fur you have, you’ll always be a petty criminal.’ Phillips gaze dropped and narrowed as he looked at Devereau’s naked body. He held up his little finger and waggled it suggestively.

  ‘Are you trying to say I have a small dick?’ Devereau questioned. ‘Because my fanged friend here seems to think I’m actually a very big dick.’

  ‘I can’t deny it,’ Scarlett said, nodding. ‘He is.’

  Phillips looked at her. ‘Who are you exactly?’

  Scarlett looked at Devereau. ‘I should tell him that I’m his worst nightmare.’

  ‘Definitely,’ he agreed. ‘If I were you, that’s what I’d say.’

  ‘True.’

  Dominic Phillips stared at them both. ‘What are you? Some kind of bizarre comedy act?’ He held up his hand. ‘Wait. Don’t answer that. I’ve had enough of you. You’ve done well to find me here, and you’ve done well to get this far and bring down so many of my men, but it stops here. You’re one vampire and one werewolf. I’ve got thirteen.’ He pointed to the cages. ‘Never send a human to do a supe’s work, right?’

  ‘You can’t compel them to do your dirty work,’ Scarlett said, her emotion showing for the first time. ‘It doesn’t matter how they came about. They’re supes. They’re us.’

  Phillips threw back his head and laughed. ‘They’ll do whatever I tell them. They’re conditioned to follow my orders. Plus four of them need the drugs I give them and they’ll do anything for those little pills. Anything. And those two,’ he pointed at a wolf and a vampire who were caged next to each other, ‘know that if they don’t do as I say, I’ll kill their families.’

  Devereau looked at Phillips levelly. ‘You can’t do that if we kill you first.’

  ‘I’d like to see you try.’

  Devereau smiled nastily. ‘That can be arranged.’ He glanced at Scarlett. ‘Can you compel him?’

  She grimaced. ‘It’s doubtful. It only works on receptive minds and I’d have to be touching him.’

  Oh well, they’d have to do this the hard way. Devereau shrugged and took a step in Phillips’ direction. ‘You’re not going to get away with this. Any of this.’

  Dominic Phillips raised his hand with the small object resting inside it. It was a remote control. ‘Oh yes I will.’ He pointed at them and declared loudly, ‘Kill them. Kill them now.’ Then he pressed a button on the remote.

  The cage doors swung open simultaneously.

  ‘Kill,’ Phillips repeated.

  Scarlett and Devereau exchanged looks. The caged vamps and werewolves were an unknown factor and neither of them were certain how they would react. Devereau braced himself for the worst but prepared for the best.

  As the first werewolf transformed and nosed out of her cage, Devereau also changed. It helped that his wolf was twice the size of hers. He bared his teeth in a silent snarl as she approached. Her pupils flared and her ears flattened. Then a male werewolf stepped out and joined her. He took one look at Devereau and promptly lay down. The female followed his lead and presented her belly in total submission.

  Whines could be heard from the other open cages. Devereau breathed out. Dominic Phillips might call himself the Master but he held no sway here, even amongst drugged and conditioned wolves.

  ‘Vampires!’ Phillips ordered imperiously. ‘Out you come!’

  Scarlett straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. ‘You can do what he says,’ she called confidently in a crystal-clear voice. ‘Or you can help us bring him down. Either way, we won’t blame you for your choices. With us, you are free.’

  ‘Van Helsing!’ Phillips roared. ‘Attack her or your children’s lives are forfeit.’

  Devereau raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t a particular fan of fiction but even he knew that Van Helsing was a vampire hunter and not a vampire. Dominic Phillips had clearly been confused when he’d christened the poor bugger.

  A thin man with prominent cheekbones and glittering dark eyes came out of one of the cages. He stared at Devereau and Scarlett, then he swung his head and stared at Dominic Phillips.

  ‘I will slit your wife’s throat,’ Phillips said to the vampire. ‘She’ll die slowly and in pain.’ He stared at him menacingly. ‘You are mine to command. Do not forget that.’

  Scarlett didn’t so much as blink. ‘As long as you do what that prick tells you to, your wife will always be in danger. I am a London vampire. I answer to Lord Horvath. He is my Lord but he is not my master, and I have a thousand other vampires who will back me up. This is your chance to join us and break free of him.’ She gestured derisively at Phillips then dropped her hands to her sides, her gaze still on the vamp. ‘If you attack me, I will defend myself. But I am not your enemy and you know it.’

  ‘Van Helsing!’ Dominic Phillips snapped. ‘Move! Lucifer, Kraken, Medusa! Back him up!’

  More vampires emerged. A few of the werewolves growled, indicating that they would join the fight if need be and that they wouldn’t be on Phillips’ side. They needn’t have bothered; each and every vamp simply stood silently. They looked at Scarlett with eerie synchronicity but not with aggression; they looked at her because they were waiting for orders.

  A wolfish grin spread across Devereau’s face. He licked his lips and faced Phillips. The bastard seemed more irritated than afraid, however.

  ‘You fucking idiots,’ he muttered. ‘The amount of money I’ve invested…’ He shook his head. ‘So be it. You’ve made your bed, now lie in it.’

  Devereau tensed. Hang on a minute. He stared at Phillips as he stepped back out of the room and into the corridor. He held up the remote control again and a chill descended through Devereau’s bones.

  He sprang forward and the other supes followed his lead, but Phillips was already closing the door. Devereau had just enough time to see his thumb press another button on the remote, then Phillips disappeared from view. The door slammed shut and there was a click as a lock slid into place.

  Scarlett sighed. ‘We’re supes,’ she said. ‘That door isn’t going to hold us for more than a minute or two. We’ll break it down. Dominic Phillips won’t get far.’

  Devereau glanced at Morty and remembered what the gunman had told him on the dark, cold playing field. Contingency plans: Dominic Phillips always had contingency plans.

  No sooner had the thought formed than Devereau heard a strange hiss and
smelled an acrid scent. He looked up at the vents placed high on the walls and his heart sank as he saw puffs of yellow-tinged smoke appear from them. Apparently he wasn’t the only one with a penchant for chemistry and a knowledge of poisonous chemicals.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The vampire called Medusa reached the door first. She tugged on the handle; when it didn’t budge, she started hammering on the steel. ‘Hey!’ she screamed. ‘Hey! Let us out!’

  Two of the werewolves threw themselves at it, knocking Medusa out of the way. The door heaved and strained at its hinges but remained closed.

  Devereau growled once and they moved obediently to the side. He lunged forward, hitting the door side on. The metal bulged and one of the screws in the lower hinge popped out. Once more, he only needed to hit it once more.

  As he backed up, ready to throw himself at it again, he realised that Lucifer and Van Helsing were on their knees, their fingers clawing at their throats. Scarlett was doubled over and the other werewolves looked disorientated.

  He tensed. He could do this – he had to do this. He bunched up his muscles but, before he could fling himself at the door again, his hind legs gave way. Instead of slamming into the steel door, he found himself falling onto the tiled floor. Shit.

  He pulled himself up again, blinking. Whatever that poison was, it was fast acting. His vision swam and he staggered as the ship rolled. The steady stance he’d been so proud of when they’d first boarded the ship had all but abandoned him.

  ‘Help,’ someone groaned behind him.

  He dimly registered the voice as belonging to Martina’s father. He didn’t look round; there wasn’t time. He had to get to the door. They were so close, so very, very close.

  ‘Devereau,’ Scarlett whispered. She fell to the floor with a thump. Everyone else was already down.

  He held his breath and shook his head, trying to clear it for one last attempt. The door. Get to the… His legs gave way once again and his head bounced off the tiles.

  This was not the ending he would have written for himself, he thought dully. Alice’s face flickered in his mind and so did Martina’s. He stretched out a paw and touched Scarlett’s prone body with the tip of his claws. ‘I’m sorry,’ he croaked. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  There was a thud, followed by a loud metallic creak. So that was what death sounded like; he’d been expecting something more melodious. Trumpets perhaps, or at the very least a harp.

  Something grabbed him, pulling at his body. He blinked. That hurt. He slid along the floor, jerking as he was yanked over the threshold and out of the poison-filled room. He gasped, his vision still blurry and his lungs burning, but he still caught the scent trail of his saviour. He had just enough energy left to feel disbelief. ‘Martina?’

  She didn’t answer. She was already running back into the room and heading straight for the collapsed body of her father. Devereau pushed himself further back into the clearer air and allowed himself three huge gulps of it. Then he staggered up and transformed into his human body yet again. He needed his hands if he was going to help the others escape.

  Martina reappeared, one arm covering her mouth, the other hooked round her father.

  ‘Stay with him,’ Devereau grunted, praying she’d listen to his order. Then he dived back inside and headed for Scarlett. She was stronger than the others, she’d recover more quickly and then she’d help with the rescue. But that wasn’t why he helped her first.

  Scooping her into his arms and feeling the poison burn into his lungs, he jogged out of the room. He gave himself only seconds to recover before he plunged back in to help the others. By the time he’d hauled out three of them, Scarlett had recovered enough to help him.

  Martina tried to run back in but he growled at her. She fell back and returned to her father’s side.

  Devereau was finding it hard to recover from the poison’s effects. Although the entire episode probably took less than ten minutes, to him it seemed like an age. Eventually, however, all fourteen of them made it out and stumbled away from the poisoned room with its desperate cages.

  As they made their way to the staircase, the ship jerked and there was the sound of a distant rattle. Scarlett looked grimly at Devereau. ‘He’s raising the anchor,’ she croaked. ‘Phillips has decided to ignore the harbourmaster’s orders and set off.’

  Devereau straightened his spine. ‘Whether he thinks he’s succeeded in killing us or not, he’s panicking.’ He felt a surge of satisfaction. ‘He’s got less than half his crew left and that storm might be abating but it’s still too rough to set sail. This time,’ he said, promising himself as much as her, ‘we’re going to get him.’

  Martina inserted herself between them, her arms folded and her expression set. ‘I am coming.’

  ‘No, you are not.’ He glared at her. ‘And what did you think you were doing coming here? How did you know we were here?’

  She returned his glare with a level of derision that only an adolescent girl could master. ‘I overheard you speaking on the phone. Besides, if I hadn’t come you’d be dead. I saved you.’

  ‘Yes, you did. We owe you our lives and I’ll thank you later. After,’ Devereau added, ‘I make sure you’re grounded for life.’ He was about to say more but Scarlett was already ahead of him.

  ‘Martina, we still need your help. Make sure that your father and these other people get off this ship before it tries to leave the port. You won’t have long – minutes at best.’ As she finished speaking, the ship rumbled. Its engines were warming, preparing to depart. ‘It won’t be easy,’ Scarlett continued, ‘but their lives are in your hands.’

  Martina glanced at Devereau. ‘She’s right,’ he said softly. ‘Can you do it?’

  The girl sniffed. ‘Of course I can.’

  ‘Then go,’ he said urgently. ‘Now.’

  They watched as she took the lead, a tiny figure with her own band of vampires and werewolves trailing after her.

  Devereau breathed out. ‘That was a good call,’ he said to Scarlett. ‘It was probably the only way we could make her leave the boat and get to safety.’

  A sad smile curved the corner of Scarlett’s mouth as she gazed after Martina. ‘She’s a brave girl,’ she murmured. ‘She risked everything by coming here. The number of people who know about her existence just multiplied considerably.’

  A tightness formed in Devereau’s chest that had nothing to do with the effects of the poisoned gas. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s find Dominic fucking Phillips and finish this.’

  ***

  They returned the way they’d come, weaving through the blood-soaked rooms and up the first staircase. Rather than head out onto the main deck, however, they turned onto the first corridor. Phillips had to be at the helm, directing the ship as it left the wharf.

  They lurched from side to side as the ship rolled with the violent wind. The man truly was mad. If this was what things were like here in the Thames, with the relative shelter of the wharf and the city of London around them, Devereau couldn’t imagine how bad they would be in the open sea. Maybe Phillips was banking on the storm dying down by the time the ship left the Thames Estuary and headed into the North Sea. Or maybe the man simply had a death wish. If that were the case, Devereau was more than happy to help him with it.

  Grabbing Scarlett’s hand to keep their balance, they slipped and slid along the corridor. It opened into an empty bar area, which no doubt served the seamen. A door at the far end opened and a man appeared. When he caught sight of them, he stood stock still, his eyes wide and frozen and his legs trembling.

  ‘Where’s Phillips?’ Devereau demanded.

  The man raised a shaky finger beyond the door he’d just come out of.

  ‘How long until we’re away from the wharf?’

  The seaman swallowed. ‘Five minutes maybe.’ His voice was barely audible. ‘The tide is against us. And the wind … it’s too dangerous. We might not make it.’

  Scarlett took pity on him. ‘You should
leave now while you still can.’

  All he could manage was a nod. Devereau grunted and pushed past him. A moment later he heard the man’s pounding feet as he tried to run in the opposite direction. Not everyone on board this ship was a total idiot, then.

  The next corridor was wider but that made it harder to traverse rather than easier. There was more room to be thrown around, and every time the ship jerked he and Scarlett staggered. He lost count of the times he smacked against the walls. Eventually he gave up and transformed into his werewolf body.

  Scarlett curled her fingers tightly into his fur. ‘Remind me,’ she said, ‘to get you a saddle for next time.’ She managed a brief laugh although there wasn’t much humour in it. The movement of the ship and lingering effects of the poison were affecting her badly. Devereau didn’t feel much better; it was only sheer adrenalin that was keeping him going.

  They heard Phillips long before they saw him. He was bellowing at some poor minion, exhorting him to do more to get the ship underway. ‘Why? Why can’t you fucking move this boat? What am I paying you for?’

  ‘There’s a gale-force wind blowing outside!’

  ‘I don’t fucking care. Get us out of here!’

  Scarlett and Devereau moved quietly up a flight of stairs to the open door of the drive room. There were four people inside, including Dominic Phillips. The nearest man, who was only about twenty years old, glanced round and caught sight of Devereau. He turned white. ‘Sir…’

  ‘I told you!’ Phillips snapped. ‘I don’t want to hear any more damned excuses about the weather! Just get the fucking boat…’ His voice faltered when he realised what the others were staring at. ‘You,’ he said stupidly, staring at Devereau’s massive werewolf body. ‘How did you get out? How are you still alive?’

  One of the men reached across and turned off the ship’s engine. It juddered to a stop, although the ship itself continued to sway dangerously. ‘He’s all yours,’ he said simply. ‘Come on, boys.’

  Devereau and Scarlett let them pass. They were far from innocent but, with the prize of Dominic Phillips so close at hand, Devereau was more than prepared to let them go.