Book 3 - The Spy Who Haunted Me (15 page)

Alexander glared at me. “I once came face-to-face with a Yeti, back in the fifties. Very old, very wise creature. Scared the crap out of me. You will leave the Yetis alone, Drood, and pray fervently that they continue to leave us alone.”

“How are we supposed to investigate five separate locations if we only have a few months to work in?” said Katt.

Alexander King waved one hand negligently, though I sensed the effort the movement cost him. It was the only move he’d made since he appeared. We all jumped just a little as five bulky metal bracelets appeared out of nowhere and clamped themselves around our left wrists. The Blue Fairy clawed at his, trying to prize it off, but it wouldn’t budge. I looked at mine thoughtfully; my torc was supposed to protect me from things like this. The metal was a dull purple, with strange lights pulsing deep inside the metal. It felt cold, and it looked very like alien technology.

I had to wonder just who the Independent Agent might have allied himself with down the years to ensure his precious autonomy.

“The teleport bracelets stay on until the end of the game,” said Alexander King. “Coordinates for each location are preprogrammed. So none of you can leave, or drop out, now the game has started. If you try, the bracelet will kill you.”

Katt glared at him. “That wasn’t in the rules!”

“It is now,” said Alexander, grinning his nasty grin.

“Where did you get these bracelets?” said Honey. “I know alien tech when I see it.”

“That’s just one of the secrets you’ll be competing for,” Alexander said smugly. “Oh, the things I know . . . that you need to know.” He looked at all of us in turn, savouring the moment. “You are the best I could find . . . But I can’t say I’m impressed. How will the world survive when I am gone? . . . Well, let the game commence! Prove your worth, to me and to the world. And, just maybe, to yourselves.”

His image disappeared, and we were left alone in the huge and empty hall. We didn’t have time to say anything before very suddenly we weren’t in the hall anymore.

And I am here to tell you, if anything Loch Ness was even colder than the Swiss Alps.

CHAPTER FOUR

S
o there we were: the six greatest secret agents in the world, masters of the spying arts, standing around in the mud and the long grass and the freezing cold wind, wondering what the hell to do next. We were trained to operate in dark city streets, in shadows and alleyways, where honest So men and women knew better than to go. We plied our trade in smoke-filled rooms and concealed cellars, in abandoned offices and computer rooms at midnight. We were not equipped to deal with lochs. Without clues to follow, suspects to interrogate, or things to steal, we were all frankly at something of a loss. At least I had some experience of the great outdoors; the others gave every indication that they were experiencing the countryside for the very first time and not enjoying it at all. Hell, sunlight was probably a new experience for some of them.

I looked unhurriedly about me. Gray looming hills rose up on either side of Loch Ness, tall and ragged, spotted here and there with clumps of spindly trees and splashes of thick tufty grass. The sky was just as gray, the sun mostly hidden behind dark lowering clouds drifting in from the opposite end of the loch. The waters were a dark blue, still and serene, untroubled by any wildlife. It was a pleasant enough view, in a dour, foreboding sort of way. It had the look of countryside that had been here long before man came along to trouble it, and it would still be here long after we were all gone. Loch Ness was more than old; it was ancient. And what mysteries it had it held close to its chest.

Walker surprised me by taking a deep lungful of the freezing cold air, and then smiling broadly. “Now, that’s more like it. Good fresh country air. Bracing! Makes you feel good to be alive.”

“You’re as weird as everyone says you are,” snarled Peter King, hugging himself against the cold and looking thoroughly miserable and put-upon. “It’s cold, it’s damp . . . and I appear to be standing in some sheep droppings.”

“Don’t rub it off,” the Blue Fairy said wisely. “That’s supposed to bring good luck.”

“It won’t be lucky for the bloody sheep if I get my hands on it,” Peter said darkly, scraping the bottom of his shoe against the spiky grass with grim determination. “These are expensive shoes. Hand-tooled by craftsmen to look good in expensive boardrooms, not assaulted by the unregulated filth of the countryside!”

“I didn’t think it could get this cold outside the Arctic Circle,” said Honey Lake, shuddering inside her long white fur coat. “I wouldn’t be surprised to see a polar bear come swimming down those waters. Probably with a penguin tap-dancing on its back.”

“I like it here,” Katt decided. The cold didn’t seem to be bothering her at all, despite her flimsy dress. She moved in beside me and slipped a slender, knowing arm through mine. She snuggled in close and beamed happily up at me. “It’s very . . . scenic. Dramatic, even. I’d swear that wind’s wuthering. Still, no place for a delicate flower of the city like me.”

“You’re about as delicate as a steamhammer,” said the Blue Fairy. “I’ve seen the state of some of your victims after you’ve finished with them.”

Katt pulled a face at him, and then smiled adoringly up at me from where she was apparently welded to my side. “You and I belong together, Eddie. We appreciate the true qualities of a place like this. We’re both . . . free spirits, independent and unrestrained! We belong in the wild, far from the chains and restrictions of civilised behaviour . . .”

I had to smile at her. “Before this goes any further, Katt, I feel I should point out that I am a Drood. We’re trained to recognise a honey trap and to know real bullshit when we hear it. So save the honeyed words and the ego massage for the civilians.”

Katt laughed easily, not offended in the least. “Can’t blame a girl for trying, darling. And you’d be surprised how many supposedly intelligent men will fall for the most blatant flattery, even in these so-called sophisticated days. Especially if I take a deep breath and push my bosoms out.”

I looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. “How many, Katt? How many men have you seduced, betrayed, and murdered, down the years?”

She shrugged prettily. “I don’t keep count, Eddie. It’s just a job. Some men more than others . . . Some were quite sweet.”

“And you killed them all? Even the ones you were fond of?”

“Especially the ones I was fond of, darling. I’ve never allowed anyone to have a hold over me.”

“And you never loved any of them?”

“What a thing to ask, sweetie! I loved them all! In my own way.” She looked out over the loch, her beautiful Asian features untouched by any emotion I could recognise. “I really don’t know what I’m doing here. I mean, monster hunting is so not me. I have always been strictly espionage and problem disposal, with the occasional side order of treachery and blackmail. Stick to what you’re best at; that’s what I always say. The honey trap has always been part of the grand old tradition of spycraft. I am glamorous and decorative, not practical. I do not get my hands dirty, in the literal sense. It’s in my contract.”

“And I suppose you feel the need for a big strong man to look after you,” I said. “To protect you from the nasty monster.”

“Exactly!” Katt snuggled in close again and looked up at me from under heavily mascaraed eyelids. “I don’t do mysteries, I don’t fight monsters, and I very definitely don’t do roughing it. I mean, come on; what am I supposed to do if we should find a monster here? Chuck it under the chin and beguile it with my famous charms?”

“If anyone could, you could,” I said generously.

Katt sighed. “I don’t know why Alexander ever thought to choose me for his precious contest.”

“I think the idea is, we’re supposed to learn to work as a group, calling on our various talents as required,” I said. “All of us working together, for the greater good.”

“Until we have to betray each other,” said Katt.

I smiled at her. “I’m sure you’ll have no problem with that. Now, if I could have my arm back, please? I have no intention of getting close to you, in any sense of the word. I would quite like to die in bed, but preferably of old age. So do us both a favour and go vamp somebody else.”

She smiled sunnily, let go of my arm, and stepped away. “Your loss, darling.”

She strode off, still somehow sure-footed and graceful even on the muddy bank of the loch. She was heading for Walker, and I mentally wished him the best of luck. I moved over to stand beside Honey, who was staring suspiciously out over the dark unmoving waters of the loch as though she suspected them of planning something. She was standing straight and tall, her hands planted on her hips, looking very much like a general contemplating the field before a battle.

“We have to get organised,” she said, acknowledging my presence without looking around. “We’re on a deadline, and the clock is ticking. Alexander didn’t look as bad as I’d been led to expect, but we have no way of knowing how accurate that vision was. He could go at any time and take all his secrets with him, the selfish bastard. He has a duty to hand over his hoarded information to those best suited to make good use of it. Not make it the prize in a stupid game.”

“I don’t think Alexander King has ever been very strong on duty,” I said.

She glanced at me and smiled briefly. “We’d better work together on this, Eddie. We’re the only real professionals in this group.”

“There’s Walker,” I said.

“Too much of an unknown quantity. Never trust anyone from the Nightside.”

“And the Blue Fairy might just surprise us.”

“Never trust an elf.”

I had to smile. “Come on, Honey. You’re CIA. You don’t trust anyone.”

She looked at me severely. “You have to trust someone, or you’ll never get anything done. The day of the independent operative is over, Eddie. The world’s grown too big, too complicated, for the lone wolf following hunches and instincts. Only big organisations have the resources to deal with today’s problems.”

“My family would agree with you,” I said. “But I’ve always had problems with my family.”

“So I’ve heard,” said Honey. “Why do you do it, Eddie? Why do the Droods feel they have the right to run roughshod over the whole world?”

“Because we’ve been doing it for hundreds of years,” I said. “And we’re very good at it.”

“Not always,” said Honey.

“Well,” I said. “No one wants to be insufferable.”

She laughed. It was a free, easy sound, utterly at odds with her determined stance and coolly professional face.

“You give your whole life to this, don’t you?” she said. “All you Droods. You play the game till it kills you, or till you drop in your tracks. Why would you do that?”

“Someone has to,” I said.

“No, really. Why?”

“Really?” I considered the question. “Duty. Responsibility. Or maybe just because for all its treacheries and dangers, it’s still the best game in the world. The only one worthy of our talents. Why do you do it?”

“Oh, hell, Eddie, it’s just a job. A way up the ladder, towards getting on and moving up. I’m going to be somebody, doing things that matter. Making the decisions that matter.” She glanced at me. “You Droods don’t care about politics. The rest of us don’t have that luxury.” She looked out over the loch again, making it clear with her body language that the subject was closed. “So, how do you find one monster in a lake this size?”

“Good question,” I said.

Out of the corner of my eye, I was watching Katt try out her charms on Walker. (It’s a poor secret agent who can’t think about two things at the same time.) Katt kept trying to slip her arm through Walker’s, and he kept dodging her without quite seeming to be aware that he was doing it. Finally he turned and looked at her, and she actually fell back a pace. Even at a distance, I could feel the chill in his gaze, colder than the Scottish air could ever be. He said something, and Katt reacted as though she’d been struck in the face. She gave Walker a quick professional smile, turned her back on him, and stalked away with her nose in the air. Walker went back to studying the loch, his face calm and thoughtful and entirely untroubled. I decided I’d better keep a watchful eye on Walker. Anyone who could stare down Lethal Harmony of Kathmandu and send her running for cover was clearly a man to be reckoned with.

Katt stalked right past the Blue Fairy without even glancing in his direction, presumably because she knew all her charms and skills would be wasted on the famously homosexual half elf. She had nothing that would interest him, except perhaps fashion tips. Honey was saying something useful but boring about the necessity for taking direct action, but I was still watching the Blue Fairy. All of us looked out of place in this wild and savage setting, but he looked more than usually lost. He had his hands thrust deep into his belt, and his chin was buried in his wilting ruff as he glowered at the muddy ground before him. He looked tired, and alone, and out of his depth. My first reaction was
Good. Serves him right.

But . . . I’d known Blue a long time, on and off. I liked him, trusted him, gave him a chance to be a hero in the Hungry Gods War. He turned his back on that, and on me, just for a chance to ingratiate himself with his arrogant elf kindred. I should have known . . . and I should have known better. The Blue Fairy’s whole history was one of broken words, cold-blooded betrayal, and falling short. He liked to say he was somebody, back in the day, but truth be told he wasn’t, though he could have been . . . if he hadn’t thrown it all away, indulging his many weaknesses. And he was half-elf. Never trust an elf. Everyone knows that. I really shouldn’t take it personally that he let me down in front of my whole family after I vouched for him. That he made me look bad.

That was what the Blue Fairy did.

He stole a torc from the Droods and got away with it. You had to admire him for that. No one else had ever managed it. Give the man credit for thinking big. And I of all people understood the demands of family; the need almost despite yourself to belong, to be accepted . . . and all the stupid self-destructive things that could drive a man to. So I left Honey talking authoritatively to herself and strolled over to join the Blue Fairy. I didn’t hurry. I wanted to give him time to move away, if he wanted. But he just looked around as he sensed me approaching, raised one hand briefly to the golden torc at his throat, and then turned almost defiantly to face me. His head came up, his mouth firmed, and he stood his ground. He’d come a long way from the broken, defeated man I’d found more dead than alive in a pokey little flat in Wimbledon. If nothing else, it seemed his time at the Fae Court had put some backbone into him.