by Helen Harper
‘Come back here!’ Phillips screeched. ‘Come back here! You can’t leave! I’ll turn you into fucking vampires if you go! I’ll hunt down your families! I’ll…’
Scarlett tutted. ‘It’s time you stopped talking.’
Phillips turned his back, scrabbling around for something. When he faced them again, he was holding a gun but his hands were shaking. He finally seemed to have realised that the game was up. ‘I’ll give you money,’ he said. ‘You’ll be rich. You can have the ship as well. Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.’
Scarlett tilted her head and smiled sweetly. ‘All we want, Master Dom, is you.’
Phillips pulled the trigger. Even with a target as large as Devereau, the shot went wide. Dominic Phillips was far too used to getting others to do his dirty work. His pupils flared with undisguised terror and he spun round. He shot again, this time shattering the glass in the window to the right. Then he threw himself through it with a shriek, falling onto the rain-slick deck outside.
Scarlett and Devereau exchanged looks. A split second later, they followed.
Scarlett dived out, rolling as she landed before jumping to her feet. Devereau followed, his large body scraping against the shards of glass that clung to the window’s frame. They drew blood but he barely registered the pain. A few scratches weren’t important now.
Someone let off a flare at the other end of the boat. Its green glow shot up into the dark sky and lit up the area, then another joined it. The wind caught the ship yet again, this time causing it to crash against the stone wharf. There was a terrible crunching sound as metal ground against stone.
Someone, probably Martina and her band of supe followers, had dropped the gangplank but it was no match for the storm. It jerked and juddered and fought before eventually breaking free. Dominic Phillips threw back his head and howled then he picked himself up and sprinted down the deck, only just managing to maintain his balance.
The predator inside Devereau Webb roared with delight as he sprang after Phillips, bounding towards him at lightning speed. He jumped at just the right moment. His front paws landed on Phillips’ back and sent him sprawling at the very moment a fork of lightning joined the green flares and illuminated the deck.
Phillips twisted his body to face Devereau, the gun still clutched in his shaking hands. ‘I won’t miss this time!’ he shouted.
Devereau dropped his head and sank his teeth into Dominic Phillips’ throat. No, he thought, neither will I. Blood filled his mouth and he spat it away.
And then the light in Dominic Phillips’ eyes faded away for good.
Chapter Thirty
It took Devereau and Scarlett some time to get off the ship safely. Even after they leapt from its heaving deck onto the wharf, Monster continued to slam itself against the stone wall in a strange act of naval self-flagellation. They watched it for a moment or two before turning away and stumbling towards the road which led out of Baron’s Wharf.
Devereau knew from the flashing blue lights ahead that they wouldn’t get away without another confrontation. Some idiot had caught wind that there was trouble and alerted the authorities – maybe it was one of the escaping sailors. Whatever, it wasn’t unexpected given the commotion on the ship.
Devereau told himself he wasn’t worried, despite the bloody scene behind him. He was a supe. He’d persuaded the police to let him go before and he could do it again. He was sure they’d want to keep the gruesome truth of Monster’s cargo quiet, and that would mean letting Devereau and Scarlett go without too many awkward questions.
When they rounded the corner and he saw who was waiting at the entrance to the wharf, however, his heart sank. ‘Shit,’ he muttered. ‘Oh shit.’
Scarlett followed his gaze and her shoulders slumped. ‘Keep a level head, Devereau,’ she said in a low, resigned voice. ‘It’s the only way.’
There was a cluster of police officers with DS Owen Grace at the front. At his side stood Fred Hackert and Emma Bellamy, the latter looking incredibly pissed off. She stalked towards him and handed him a blanket which he wrapped gratefully round his body.
‘Did you have a nice holiday?’ Devereau asked, doing his best to act nonchalantly.
Bellamy stiffened and didn’t answer. She didn’t look as if she’d had a particularly restful time and there was certainly no evidence of a sun-kissed tan; quite the opposite, in fact. But despite her angry gaze, it wasn’t her presence nor that of the boys in blue that worried Devereau. It was the tall, dark vampire Lord and the collection of stony-faced werewolves who truly concerned him. It didn’t particularly help that Lady Sullivan was holding Martina’s arm in a vice-like grip and the other escaped vamps and wolves were boxed in by glowering supes.
‘Scarlett,’ Horvath snapped, ‘what the fuck is going on here?’
She blanched. For the first time since Devereau had known her, she actually looked nervous. Before she could answer, he cleared his throat and spoke up. ‘This is on me,’ he said. ‘Scarlett was just making sure I didn’t do anything too crazy.’ He waved casually back towards Monster. ‘But you don’t have to worry, we’ve taken care of everything. You can all go home and rest.’
‘That might be what you would like to happen,’ sniffed Lady Sullivan, ‘but that is most certainly not what is going to happen.’ She didn’t look at Martina but Devereau knew from the girl’s sharp intake of breath that Sullivan had tightened her grip.
He took a step forward, his eyes narrowing. ‘Careful.’
Lord McGuigan moved in front of Martina. ‘Yes, Mr Webb,’ he said icily. ‘Be very careful indeed.’
Scarlett’s toe nudged his, reminding him of her advice to maintain a level head. He inhaled a lungful of air and forced his shoulders to relax. ‘The human who is responsible for all this is dead,’ he said. ‘You’ll find his body on the ship.’ He glanced at DS Grace. ‘You can arrest me again for his murder, if you wish, but I suspect it won’t go well if you do. Dominic Phillips got exactly what he deserved and every supe in this city will know it. Justice has been served to everyone’s satisfaction.’
Grace swallowed and looked away. All the fight appeared to have gone out of him.
‘We will investigate the scene at the boat, Mr Webb,’ DC Bellamy said, speaking up instead of her superior. ‘And we’ll get to the bottom of what has happened here. However, I suspect from what I’ve seen and heard so far that there will be no further arrests.’ She didn’t look at DS Grace and he didn’t argue.
Devereau nodded. ‘Did you get them all?’ he asked. ‘Did you get all those bastards who’d bought themselves enslaved supes?’
Once again, it was Bellamy who answered. ‘I believe the answer to that is yes.’ The gathered supes nodded grudgingly. ‘All the humans involved are in custody,’ she continued. ‘All the vampires and werewolves who were recovered are being taken to supe safe houses to be examined and cared for. We will ensure the same happens to this group that has come off the ship.’ She looked at Devereau assessingly. ‘You did well to uncover what was going on, Mr Webb, but you should have called for help far sooner.’
Horvath crossed his arms and his black eyes glittered dangerously. ‘That’s the understatement of the year.’
Devereau met the vampire Lord’s eyes. He wasn’t going to be either apologetic or defensive. ‘I had my reasons,’ he said.
‘As we discovered when we arrived here,’ Lady Carr said pointedly. She didn’t glance in Martina’s direction; it was almost as if she were afraid to. ‘I know you are not a stupid man, Mr Webb. And I know you remember what happened the last time you wanted a human child transformed into a werewolf.’
‘It’s not his fault!’ Martina’s father burst out with a surprising surge of bravery. ‘He didn’t do this to her! It’s not my daughter’s fault, either! She didn’t ask for this. She didn’t want to be a werewolf. That bastard Phillips … that bastard … that…’ He choked, unable to finish his sentence.
Devereau saw genuine sympathy in t
he eyes of the watching supes, including the alpha werewolves and Lord Horvath. Rather than relaxing him, it worried him. ‘If it wasn’t for Martina,’ he said quickly, ‘we’d be dead and Dominic Phillips would have escaped.’
Lady Sullivan turned to Martina and gazed down at her. ‘You did well, girl, and I’m truly sorry for what is going to happen next. But we cannot allow you to run loose. Things are hard for you now, and you’re only just starting puberty. They will get harder as you get older. You won’t be able to control yourself and, much as you might not want to, you will kill. Not because you’re a bad person but because you can’t help yourself. More innocent people will be hurt. We can’t let that happen.’
DS Grace finally stirred. ‘You can’t harm her,’ he said. ‘It’s not fair. None of this is her fault. She’s just a child.’
Lord McGuigan gave him a long look. ‘It’s your law we’re adhering to, detective.’
DC Bellamy was pale. ‘There must be something we can do.’
Martina’s father wrenched free from the vampires. ‘You’re talking about hurting her! You’re talking about my daughter! I know she’s a monster but…’
‘You’re not helping,’ Devereau growled.
There was a loud cough from amid the small crowd. A moment later the small figure of Phileas Carmichael appeared, elbowing his way through swarthy werewolves who were three times his size. ‘I have to agree, Mr Crystal. You are not helping your daughter’s cause in the slightest.’ He adjusted his tie. ‘I, on the other hand, can offer more effective aid.’
Devereau didn’t have the faintest idea how the gremlin lawyer had got here, but the fact that he was dressed in a suit suggested that he’d been waiting for this very opportunity. He was relishing the chance to have an audience hang off his every word.
Devereau was also aware that every single eye had turned hopefully to the gremlin. Nobody wanted to hurt Martina, not the clan alphas, not Lord Horvath, not the police or any of the watching supes. Nobody wanted to kill her, even if her very existence was illegal and she posed a genuine risk. Everyone wanted Phileas Carmichael Esquire to offer a way out.
Devereau glanced at Martina. She looked very pale and very small, as if she couldn’t hurt a damned fly.
‘I have spent considerable time scanning the law statutes since Mr Webb made me aware of Angelica Crystal’s existence,’ Carmichael said, indicating Martina with a wave of his hand.
‘Martina,’ she muttered. ‘I want to be called Martina.’
Phileas smiled at her benignly and didn’t lose his stride. ‘As you wish.’ He walked towards her, unafraid of what she was underneath her girlish exterior. He was even smaller than she was. ‘It is true,’ he said, ‘that you should not exist. It is true that the law in its basic form requests that you be … put to sleep for the safety of the public at large. But,’ he held up a single, quivering finger, ‘there is a way for this not to happen.’ He paused and smiled.
‘Well?’ Lady Sullivan snapped. ‘Speak on, man!’
‘If it can be proved that the adolescent in question will listen to a responsible adult, who will help her control her wolf and offer her the necessary space away from others during the nights surrounding the full moon, she may be permitted to live.’
Lord McGuigan spat on the ground. ‘But when she turns she’s not capable of listening to anyone else. That’s the entire point.’
‘Let’s see, shall we?’ Phileas turned on his heel and walked over to Martina’s father. ‘My apologies, Mr Crystal,’ he said, then he reached and slapped him across the face.
There were several audible gasps from the crowd.
‘Obviously,’ Carmichael intoned, with the air of a professor giving a lecture, ‘she often won’t require any provocation. In this instance, and for these purposes, however…’
Martina snarled. She spun, her clothes bursting off as her werewolf emerged. Lady Sullivan tried to keep hold of her but quickly lost her grip. Within seconds Martina’s quivering werewolf was in front of Carmichael, her teeth bared. The gremlin was about to become wolf food.
‘Angelica!’ her father cried. ‘No!’ His words fell on deaf ears.
‘Back down, girl!’ Lady Sullivan ordered. ‘Martina Crystal, do as I say!’
Martina took a step closer to Carmichael.
McGuigan added his voice to Sullivan’s and his attempt at compulsion reverberated through the night air. ‘Halt, Angelica Crystal! Stop what you are doing, Martina Crystal!’
Martina didn’t even twitch. Her yellow eyes narrowed and her muscles bunched as she prepared to lunge.
‘You will not do this,’ Lady Carr said. ‘You will…’
Devereau lifted up his chin and interrupted. ‘Martina,’ he said, without raising his voice, ‘stop this nonsense now.’
She dropped to the ground in an instant, her snarl transforming to a whine.
‘Come here,’ Devereau ordered.
Martina shuffled towards him, her head bowed. Everyone stared at him, their mouths wide open. From the corner of his eye, Devereau saw Cannon Carr nudging the werewolf next to him. ‘Told you what he was like, didn’t I?’
When Martina reached his feet, she stopped and her body sagged.
Phileas Carmichael withdrew a spotted handkerchief and dabbed his forehead. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’m glad that worked.’ His eyes met Devereau’s. ‘It’s not just about power, you know. She had to know that she could trust you with her life. That’s very rare.’
‘I … I…’ Her father still couldn’t seem to finish a sentence properly. He dropped to the ground in a heap.
‘She will be most dangerous around the full moon,’ Carmichael said. ‘She will need to remain with you for at least a week during that time. Every time. Otherwise she can be with her father. It is a large commitment on your part, Mr Webb.’
Devereau didn’t take his eyes from Martina. ‘That’s fine.’
‘And it’s fortunate, of course,’ the lawyer continued, ‘that you have exclusive use of Regent’s Park during the full moon. Martina can run around to her heart’s content without fear of anyone getting hurt, be they werewolf, human or even gremlin.’
‘You know what this means,’ Lady Carr said in a whispered aside to Lady Sullivan. ‘He really was bitten four times. He’s more powerful than the rest of us put together.’
For once, Devereau decided to be gracious and not react to her words. Truthfully, he was more relieved than anything. He knew that Martina’s wolf would not have listened to him if they hadn’t gone through so much together. He’d had to prove his worth to her first.
‘Well done,’ Scarlett murmured in his ear.
‘Carmichael took quite a risk,’ Devereau said to her. ‘He couldn’t have known that Martina was going to be able to trust me. Not unless…’
Scarlett smiled. ‘I made more than one phone call earlier tonight. You’re racking up those favours, Devereau Webb. At this rate, you’re going to be in debt to me for months.’ Her eyes danced, then she withdrew to speak to her Lord.
Devereau reached down and scooped up Martina, holding her furry body in his arms. ‘Take her,’ he said to her father. ‘And for God’s sake, man, look after her better than you did before. She needs you as well as me. She’s not a monster, she’s a brave little girl.’
The man nodded weakly. As Devereau passed her over, his eyes met those of the three clan alphas and he saw their grudging respect. He dipped his head in brief acknowledgment and turned away. Martina was safe and he’d made considerable inroads with the other supes. Today, at least, he’d call that a win.
Chapter Thirty-One
His street was quiet. There were no signs of any passers-by. His old Flock had obviously returned to their own corner of London, and the flotsam and jetsam collection of supes whom Scarlett had pressed into guarding the area had also departed. The weather during the previous night would have sent even the hardiest souls scurrying for cover, and the only scents now were the those of car fumes, blocked drains
and the calm, fresh aftermath of the storm.
Devereau picked up several fallen wheelie bins, dragged them to the side of the road so they’d be out of the way of any passing traffic, and scooped up a few fallen roof tiles. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. It had taken longer than he’d wanted to extricate himself from Baron’s Wharf. Martina had left with her father, although she would return to him in a few days for the full moon. Scarlett had left with Lord Horvath and the other vampires.
DC Bellamy had clearly wanted to question him more thoroughly but she seemed to have her hands full with DS Grace who, by the sounds of things, was trying to tell her that Supe Squad wasn’t where he wanted to be. Shocker. Then a werewolf, purportedly from the Fairfax clan, had marched up to Devereau to tell him that he should join them. He knew that he couldn’t do it; he couldn’t take orders from someone else and pretend to be a loyal soldier. And he didn’t know enough about werewolf customs to try and become the Fairfax alpha, even though the position was currently vacant. He wasn’t ready and it wouldn’t be fair.
Exhaustion hit him all at once and his body screamed with fatigue as he limped down to his house. The bullet holes were still in evidence but, strangely, there seemed to be a light on inside. He peered through one of the cracked windows and smiled when he saw Dr Yara inside making a large pot of tea. He was surprised at how glad the familiar sight of her made him feel, even if he knew she deserved far better than this.
He paused for a moment then, instead of walking to his front door, swivelled round and headed for his immediate neighbour. The lace curtains twitched as he approached so, rather than knock or ring the doorbell, he waited outside. His instinct was correct; after only a few moments, the door opened and the lined face of an elderly pixie peered out. At least he presumed she was a pixie because of her diminutive appearance and brightly coloured hair. He’d never met one before.