Alex Verus Novels, Books 1-4 (9780698175952) (136 page)

Will's sword rammed into my stomach in the same move he'd used to cripple me in the casino. It felt like being kicked by a horse, but as the point of the sword drove into my gut the armour hardened into a rigid plate, spreading the impact over my lower body. Pain flashed through me and I stumbled, but the spell-woven cloth held.

At the same instant my jian hit Will, and he didn't have any armour. The blade sank into his abdomen with a sensation exactly like cutting into meat with a kitchen knife. Will staggered, tried to back up, and I twisted the blade as he pulled off it, tearing the wound open.

Will righted himself. He didn't look in pain or angry; he just looked surprised, as though he hadn't quite caught up to what was happening. Still he attacked, but he wasn't as fast now. I parried the first two strikes, then knocked his sword aside and skewered his thigh, tearing through the big muscle and leaving him nearly unable to move. Still Will fought on, blood dripping on the stone. A little voice told me to stop; I didn't listen to it. One more pass, then I closed and rammed my sword through Will's gut, and this time I put it all the way through. Only then did Will fall.

Will lay in his own blood, gasping, his face a hideous colour in the yellow light. “Are you happy?” I snarled down at him. “Is this what you wanted?”

Will tried to bring his sword around and I kicked it out of his hand, then pointed my sword down at him. Blood dripped from the tip, the blade trembling slightly. “Was it worth it? Your friends, dead. You, dead. All for your stupid revenge! Was it worth it?”

“You—” Will gasped. “You think you've won?”

“Won?” My voice rose to a shout. I'd been keeping this bottled up for so very long and I was close to snapping. “I never wanted this! Ten years I've had Catherine's death weighing me down!
Ten years!
I was starting to forget, I was almost happy, then you brought it all back! Why couldn't you just let me be?”

“You don't—” Will struggled for breath. “You don't deserve it. You're a murderer.”

That was where I finally lost it. “Shut up!” I screamed. I kicked Will, making him double over. “This is
your
fault! Not mine!
You
made me do this! I never wanted to hurt any of you! All I wanted was to be left alone!”

Will was on his side but I couldn't stop screaming at him, all the pain and hatred and anguish boiling to the surface. I spend so much time keeping my self-control but I couldn't keep it now. “None of this had to happen! I kept trying to talk to you, all you had to do was stop trying to kill me and listen! That was it! Just listen! Now I'm a murderer again; I got Catherine killed and now I've killed her brother too! I promised I'd never be this person again, but you made me do it and I hate you for it!”

Will's eyes were hazy with pain and dark blood was pooling around his body. I knew he was dying but somehow he found the strength to laugh. “You'll never change. Never get away—”

“
Why not?
Why can't I start a new life? Haven't I've paid enough?”

“Never enough—” Will drew a gasping breath. “Isn't over.”

“It
is
over! The Nightstalkers are
dead
! They followed you here and they died for it!”

“There'll be more.” Will's voice was trailing off, but he managed to get the words out. “After today . . . they'll come for you . . .”

“No!” I screamed at Will. “I don't believe this! How many times are you going to keep coming? How many of you am I going to have to kill before you leave me alone?”

Will didn't answer, and as I looked at him I realised he never would. His eyes had glazed and as I watched, the slow rise and fall of his chest stopped.

I stared down at his body for a long time, then turned and began, very slowly, to retrace my steps.

* * *

B
y the time I made it back to the laboratory the battle was over. Smoke hung in the air, but the fires had been starved to nothing and only smouldering patches marked where the flames had raged. The nauseating stench of burnt flesh filled the air, thick and sweet and horrible.

Captain America was propped up against one of the benches, his face pale from blood loss. His leg was gone at the knee; an open first-aid kit lay next to him and he'd managed to put a tourniquet on. It didn't look like he was going any further.

I could have finished him but just the thought of killing anyone else made me want to throw up. The adrenaline rush from my battle with Will had worn off and I was bone-tired and sick, drained of emotion. I tapped the point of the jian against the stone, the noise echoing in the silence.

Captain America's head snapped up and he peered through the smoke at me. His eyes were hazy and his movements sluggish and I knew he had to be in shock, but even so, looking through the futures I saw him pull out a gun and level it at me. “Please don't,” I said wearily.

Captain America hesitated and we stared at each other for a long moment, then I saw the futures of violence thin and slip away. “Where's Will?”

I didn't answer but looked at him steadily. Captain America's eyes flickered from me down to the jian. Will's blood was still on the blade.

“Lee?” I said.

“Gone,” Captain America said. His voice was weak, but he held his head up. “You're not catching him.”

“I never wanted to catch any of you.”

The tread of heavy feet echoed from one of the side corridors. I thought about dodging back and hiding but I was too tired. I stood my ground and waited.

Cinder came out of the darkness, massive and steady. A red glow hovered at his shoulder but he didn't have any attack magic active, not yet. His eyes registered me, then turned to settle on Captain America. Cinder came to a stop, looking at the adept, and the message was clear.
Take your shot.

Captain America stared back at him. He didn't draw a weapon and he didn't look away. After a few seconds Cinder glanced at me. “Verus.”

“Where's Deleo?”

Cinder tilted his head, as if deciding whether to answer. “Gate chamber.” He studied me. “But they weren't here for that, were they?”

I was silent.

“They wanted you,” Cinder said. “You led them here. Got us to handle them. Sneaky.” He studied me, then shrugged and nodded towards the exit. “You better go.”

I glanced at Captain America. “What are you going to do with him?”

Cinder looked at me steadily. “Not your business.”

I hesitated.

“Don't try anything, Verus,” Cinder said. “Been a long day and fighting you is just a pain in the balls. I'm not in the mood.”

I looked Cinder up and down, then turned back to the boy I'd thought of as Captain America. “Your name's Kyle, right?”

Captain America—Kyle—looked at me. “Yeah.”

“For what it's worth,” I said, “I never had anything against you.” I turned and crossed the laboratory, my steps heavy. I skirted Kyle just in case he tried a last desperate attack, but nothing came. He and Cinder watched me go.

I walked down the tunnel in the darkness and through the chapel. The pile of dust had been scattered in the battle and there was no trace that anyone had been left there. I didn't hear any sound from behind. I could have stopped to spy on Kyle and Cinder, see what Cinder was going to do, but the thought of staying here any longer filled me with nausea. As I trudged up the steps to the mansion's ground floor I pulled out my phone and dialled. Variam picked up almost instantly. “Alex?”

“It's over,” I said. I felt utterly drained, so much that it was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other. “I'm coming up.”

“Gate's ready when you are,” Variam said.

I hung up and started the long walk back to where Variam was waiting to take me home.

chapter
14

I
t was a few days later.

I stood under the trees of the South London cemetery. The sky was overcast, low clouds forming a thick blanket that held in the heat, and the weather was close and humid and tiring. I held still, the tree obscuring my silhouette enough to make me easy to miss, and watched the people gathered around the new grave in the far corner. It wasn't a large crowd—less than a dozen—and the priest was reading from a small leather-bound book. I couldn't make out what he was saying and I didn't want to get close enough to hear. Up ahead, through the legs of the crowd, I could see Catherine's grave, her parents' tombstones just behind. A new grave marker had been added next to hers, of the same size and shape.

I've never been to many funerals, though God knows I've been involved often enough in what causes them. When someone bites it in my line of work it tends not to get advertised, either because no one wants the publicity, because there isn't enough left to bury, or both. It had been a long time since I'd been to one, and I hadn't really known what to expect. Few had shown up. Either Will's lifestyle had left him without many friends, or they just hadn't wanted to come. Those who had were either young—his age—or sixty or more.

You'd think there'd be something more dramatic about the passing of someone from this world to the next, but I guess by the time the funeral comes it's all done. All that's left is to go through with the ritual. So I stood alone and watched, and the priest read through the ceremony and the guests listened in silence, until eventually it was done and the small crowd began to disperse, people splitting up in twos and threes. Maybe it was my imagination but they seemed to move a little more briskly as they walked away, as if they were returning to the world of the living and leaving their brush with death behind. None came in my direction, for which I was glad. I stayed in the shadows and let them pass by in the sun, going back to their lives.

There was one person, though, whom I couldn't hide from. I'd seen him in the crowd, standing next to a girl I didn't recognise, and I knew he'd seen me. It was what he did, after all. I didn't make a move towards him and as the crowd broke up I expected him to disappear, but instead he said something to the girl and walked towards me. He stopped just outside the shade of the tree, as if afraid to come out of the light.

Lee looked very different from when I'd first seen him. It had been less than ten days since we'd first met on the roof of my flat and he'd aged harshly in that brief time. There was a haunted look in his eyes now, and in his funeral clothes he looked less youthful, more careworn. It's one thing to see someone forced to grow up; it's something else to make it happen. Lee didn't speak at first and neither did I. We looked at each other for a while. “Why are you here?” Lee said at last.

“Not for you, if that's what you're wondering.”

“You killed them,” Lee said. I expected him to be angry but he just sounded bitter and tired. “Those two might have done it but you were the one who set it up.”

“You shouldn't have tried to kill me first.”

“It was Will who wanted you dead. Not us.”

“Then why'd you follow him?”

Lee was silent. “You know, everyone's been talking as though this was just between me and Will,” I said. “You know what I think? The one who really made all this happen was you.”

Lee stared at me. “What? I just—”

“You just find people. Like I just found Will's sister.” I looked at Lee. “I saw how Dhruv and Will treated you. Your magic isn't for combat so they acted like you were less important. But you were the one who was really driving everything. Everywhere the Nightstalkers went, they went because you pointed them there.”

“I just did what he told me to.”

“Why? Because it's not your place to question orders?” I shook my head. “You could have stopped this anytime. All you had to do was say no.”

“And you didn't have to get them all killed,” Lee said bitterly.

“Maybe you're right,” I said wearily. “So what are you going to do, Lee? The same thing as Will? Go away and nurse your hatred until you can gather more people and do it all over again? Is that how it works? Revenge for revenge, over and over until everyone's dead? When does it stop?”

I held Lee's gaze and we matched stares. For a moment I saw anger flickering behind his eyes and then it faded, becoming something sadder, harder to recognise. “If I were Deleo, I'd just kill you,” I said. “But I want to believe that it doesn't have to end that way. That something better can come out of all this.” I shrugged. “I guess it's up to you whether I'm right.”

I turned and walked away, heading for the cemetery gates. Lee watched me go.

* * *

T
he police tape around my shop was gone but the sign on the door said
CLOSED
. I'd had the talk with the police, and it had been exactly as unpleasant as I'd been expecting. They couldn't really charge me with anything—it's not illegal under U.K. law to get your house blown up, at least not yet—but you didn't exactly have to be a genius to know something was going on. They questioned me for a long time, and only after it became clear that I wasn't going to tell them anything did they finally give up in disgust. From the Council I'd heard only silence.

Inside, my shop and flat were quiet. Variam had moved out; the room he'd been living in had been one of the ones hit by the bomb and in any case he'd had a new offer. While I was being interrogated by the police Variam had gone to meet Dr. Shirland's Keeper, and things must have gone well because Variam had sent me a message saying he'd been accepted on probation. As part of the deal he'd moved into apprentice accommodation. I hadn't met the Keeper in question but I was curious as to what he'd said at their meeting. Either he'd been
very
persuasive, or Vari was just getting less suspicious.

Luna had gone back to her classes. She'd probably been the least affected out of all of us, and when I'd spoken to her yesterday she'd told me that none of the other apprentices seemed to have heard what had happened. It wouldn't last—sooner or later, word would get around. The only one whom I hadn't seen was Anne. I'd met Luna and Variam at Arachne's cave and told them the story, but Anne hadn't been there and I hadn't seen her since. But looking through the futures, I saw that Anne was upstairs in the guest room and her door was open. I climbed the stairs to the landing, knowing that she'd have seen me coming. As I reached the doorway I slowed and stopped.

Anne doesn't have many possessions but in the months she's stayed with me she's managed to take the little guest room and leave a definite impression of her personality. There had been potted plants by the window and clothes neatly folded on the chair, and a smell of leaves and flowers. Now the plants were gone, the ornaments were gone, and the last of the clothes were packed in a suitcase lying open on the bed. “You're leaving?” I said in surprise. It wasn't the most brilliant comment but I couldn't think of anything else to say.

Anne was silent for a moment. She was standing with a pullover in her arms; as I watched she tucked it carefully into the suitcase. “I didn't think you'd be back this soon.”

I looked at Anne. She didn't meet my eyes but kept packing her clothes. “Where are you going?”

“Sonder's found me somewhere,” Anne said. “I can stay there a little while.”

I noticed that she didn't tell me where. “Why?”

Anne paused, not looking at me. “Vari told me what happened.”

I had a hollow, sinking feeling. Somewhere at the back of my mind I'd known this was coming. “You killed them,” Anne said, her voice flat.

“Technically I only killed one of them.”

Anne looked up at me, anger flashing in her eyes. “Setting them up to be murdered by Dark mages isn't any better! You promised you weren't going to kill them!”

“I tried,” I snapped. “Okay? I tried talking and I tried running and I tried calling the Council. You think I wanted it to end like this?”

“You could have found another way.”

“
What
other way? What was I supposed to do that would stop seven magically gifted assassins? I don't have that kind of power, Anne! I can't walk through bullets and knock people out with a touch. The only way I could beat Will and his friends was to call in help.”

“
We
would have helped you! But not to do something like this!”

“And that was why I called in Cinder and Rachel. Because they're killers and you aren't. Because Will wanted revenge on Rachel as well. This was always going to happen—I just made sure it happened
first
.”

“How can you talk about them like that?” Anne looked like she was about to cry. “They're
people
, not things! How could you just let them die?”

“Because they were trying to kill me!” I snarled. “Because I survive and that's what I do! I don't want to fight but if it has to be me or them I'm going to make damn sure I'm the one still alive on the other side. That's why I'm still here! Why are you so surprised? It's not like it's the first time!”

Anne stared at me. “What?”

“Remember last year?” I said. “When those gunmen came after you? When you were dying in that flat and I went to deal with them, what did you
think
I was doing? I didn't hear you complaining when you got away alive!”

“That was different!”

“Why? Because they were after you, not me?”

Anne jerked back at that. “How can you be like this?”

“What kind of person did you think I was?” I demanded. “I told you the truth about what I used to be. How the hell could you listen to that and still have any illusions about the kind of man I am?”

“Because I thought you were different now!” Anne shouted. “I thought you were better than me!”

I stared at Anne in disbelief. “Where the hell did you get
that
idea?”

Anne looked away, her hair hiding her face. “Anne, I've never thought I was better than
any
of you,” I said. “Why do you think I tried to keep the three of you out of it? If someone had to take the weight, better it should be me . . .”

“You shouldn't have,” Anne said. Her voice was muffled and I knew she was crying. She shut the suitcase and picked it up, then walked towards the door, head down, aiming to pass me.

“You're just going to walk out?” I demanded. “That's it?” Anne didn't lift her head or stop, and as she moved to go by me I felt a sudden surge of fury. I slammed my hand into the wall, blocking her path. “No!” I snapped at her. “At least tell me! You owe me that much!”

Anne flinched back, an instinctive, frightened move. She looked up at me with a tear-streaked face, so close I could smell her. There was something in her eyes I didn't understand, a complex mix of emotions, but one thing I was sure of was that she was afraid, and my anger disappeared in a sick, miserable feeling. Anne shouldn't be afraid of me. Standing close like this,
she
was the one who was threatening. Her life magic was far more dangerous than mine . . . but she wouldn't use it as a weapon, not like this. That was why I'd always felt safe around her; I'd known I could trust her.

But she didn't trust me. Not anymore.

I let my arm drop and stepped away. Anne walked past me onto the landing. For a moment she hesitated and I saw the futures flicker as if she wanted to say something, and then she bowed her head and started down the stairs. I watched her go until she disappeared below the landing. The sound of her footsteps crossing the floor drifted up from below, then the shop door closed and I was alone.

* * *

W
ith everyone gone my flat felt empty, and I wandered aimlessly through the rooms. My bedroom was still missing a roof; the rubble had been cleared but I hadn't arranged for repairs. I needed to start the work of rebuilding my flat but I couldn't muster the energy. The living room had been emptied of furniture and I couldn't help but remember it as it had been, full of games and talk and laughter. It felt like a long time ago, and now the room seemed gloomy and bare.

I fixed myself a meal in the kitchen. It seemed to take a long time and when I was done it tasted bland. I couldn't help comparing it to Anne's cooking. I washed up and went back to the living room. I had work I should be doing, but I couldn't make myself care. The conversations with Lee and with Anne kept going round and round in my head and my flat felt lonely and depressing. At last I gave up and headed to Hampstead Heath.

* * *

I
found Arachne in her cave, sitting at rest. For once she wasn't working on any clothes and she greeted me as if it were just another day. Walking into her cavern didn't exactly make me feel happy, but at least the empty feeling didn't get any worse.

“Well, the armour worked perfectly,” I said after we'd finished with the small talk. I felt listless but didn't want to show it. “I think it's accepted me, too.” I looked at Arachne. “Did you know it was going to . . . ?”

“Imbued items make their own choice,” Arachne said. “But I knew what it was looking for. You aren't wearing it?”

“I've gotten a bit edgy about these things lately.”

“The armour will be safe,” Arachne said. “I designed it with that in mind. It'll grow with you too, as long as you spend enough time with it.” She tilted her head at me. “But that isn't what's bothering you.”

I was silent. “Anne's gone,” I said finally. “I'm not sure she's ever coming back.” I told Arachne the story, not leaving anything out.

Arachne sat thoughtfully for a little while once I was finished. “With regard to the adepts,” she said at last, “how do you feel about what you've done?”