Craving (18 page)

Alistair had freaked me out the one time I’d met him. I remember feeling powerless, standing frozen as his index finger extended to my forehead, reaching into my memories. When he touched me, my life flashed before my eyes, and then he’d shown me another set of pictures, things that might happen.
Fuck it
, my cigarette was all gone. With shaking hands I dropped the stub to the concrete floor, scuffed it under my heel, and waited some more.

I felt a shift in the air and a tingle at the back of my neck. I had a spirit in here with me. Was it Gabe again? I caught a flash of movement, something over my head, and suddenly I was bombarded with them. Spirit after spirit swept toward me, ran icy fingers across my skin, tugged my hair and nudged at my feet. I laid my trembling hands flat against my thighs and tried to count aloud, to center myself. Another wave of spirits surged, and the room went black. My heart stopped. I’d gone blind.

The pulse in my ear told me I was still alive, and I caught sight of the faint glowing numerals on my watch.
The light had been switched off.
Ethereal fingers drifted like cobwebs over my cheeks, poked at my mouth, swept over my eyelashes.
Jesus
. I gulped, trying to suck in some air, my lungs wheezed. Was it possible to swallow them? I squeezed my eyes shut, clamped a hand over my mouth and nose. Please switch the light back on,
please
… I mustn’t fall unconscious. I focused on Kitten, on her sweet kiss, the feel of her hair, the softness of her skin… I
wouldn’t
scream. I remembered my Zippo and fumbled it out of my pocket, flicking it wildly with my thumb. Please light,
please light
. It refused. No fucking fuel left. What had I done to piss off Alistair? Stay awake, I chanted in my head.
Stay awake. Stay Awake.

A muted click. A clunk as the door unlocked. I risked opening my eyes, blinking in the light, my breaths juddering in my lungs. It was the Jeweler, with the Asian woman again. My knees didn’t feel strong enough, but I struggled to my feet and faced him.

He could have been anywhere between thirty and fifty, lean and smart with eyes as dead as the slight woman by his side. “Alistair is unhappy with you.” I lifted my chin and braced myself. “The money you left earlier was dud. Some good counterfeits, true, but over half was fake.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. The roll of notes from the poker game. The blood roared in my ears, and I battled to stay upright. “I had no idea.” My voice was hoarse. “Can you give me some time to make it up?”

“Time?” He cocked his head on one side. “How long do you need?”

Sweat oozed across my forehead. My tongue thick in my mouth. “A few days?”
Surely it wouldn’t be this easy
? My heart thudded against my ribs as he smiled. “A few days it is.”

As I opened my mouth to thank him, the light vanished. Before I could even breathe, I heard the door clunk as they left and felt the myriad of icy fingers rubbing over my face again. This time, I screamed.

8.6 Josh

I sipped the cooling coffee and scanned the street again. The line of club-goers had subsided to the odd group, and some people had even started to leave. I checked my watch—1:15. Time for another drive by.

The streets were quiet as I drove slowly round the block, checking the back alleys closest to
Armageddon
. I’d never been inside the hugely popular rock club, but I knew its reputation—and that it was almost never busted by the Police. It was an unsettling thought for Dante to be somehow tangled up with the place.

I sent a text to Suki, wondering if she was still up and smiled when she rang me straight back.

“Hey, babe. There’s no sign of Dante yet. I’ll wait half an hour more, then come back if he doesn’t show.”

We agreed I’d wait until 1:30, do one more drive-by and then if there was still no sign of him, I’d park his bike where we arranged and head back to the hotel.

8.7 Dante

A hand on my collar jerked me back to reality, as did the blow to my face. A sliver of light fell across the floor from the now open doorway, and I blinked and tried to orient myself in the room. The last thing I remembered was curling into a ball, my arms over my head as I howled, with the spirits that screeched inside my brain.

Another blow, this one to my kidneys. I grunted. Someone behind me cupped my chin and wrenched my head back. “Alistair wants to talk to you.” A thick Manchester accent.

A punch to my stomach drove all the air from my lungs, and I gasped and retched while they dragged me down the pristine corridors. My boots scraped the soft carpet, juddering as we entered the lift. I blinked. They weren’t taking me into one of the offices.
Where the fuck was I going?

Two giant bouncers gripped my wrists like manacles, while my arms were twisted so far up my back I thought my elbows would dislocate. Every movement hurt, and the breath rasped in my lungs, my heart racing, brain on fire and temporarily blinded after the pitch black of the cell. I tried to struggle, to kick out at my captors, but they had other ideas. Something crashed against my head, and a wave of nausea competed with dizziness. It was all I could do to stay conscious over the buzzing in my skull.

Another corridor, a blast of loud music, and we were back onto the street. Blissful cold air.
No spirits
. The hand in my hair released me with a jerk, and my neck had time to complain bitterly, before I was slammed against the wall.
Jesus
. There were three pairs of black leather boots surrounding me. I dragged my head up to stare at the third man, smartly dressed in a pinstripe suit, while the bouncers reclaimed their hold on me.

The muffled hum of rock music flared briefly as the side door opened to the night club. A soft wash of light illuminated us for the briefest moment before we faded to almost black again. I could smell dope, the sweet scent lingering in the air after the smokers had strolled away. They paid us no attention. I probably looked like another druggie trying to score a hit in a back street alley.

“Is it true what they say about you?” The hard faced stranger smirked as he took hold of my chin. “You’d sell your own grandmother to make a buck.”

I struggled against the two gorillas holding me, both arms tight behind my back. Rivers of pain poured down from my aching shoulders. “I make a living.” I spat the words out, my mouth constricted by his grasp, fingers digging into the soft flesh under my jaw.

Footsteps approached.

“What about your brother?” Alistair had joined us.

The question threw me. “I don’t have one.” It hurt to speak, but he seemed intent on conversation.

“Raphael?” His tone mocked me. “Fetch me Raphael, and I’ll wipe your slate clean.”

What the fuck? Raphael was my
brother
? He was just trying to bullshit me.
Focus, Dante
. “And if I don’t?”

He moved a fraction closer. I could smell Aramis after-shave, pungent and sickly. I tried not to gag. His nose almost touched mine. The tension in my arms intensified.

“If you don’t… even your famed spirit guides won’t be able to help you. Not where you’re going.” Tendrils of icy-white mist framed his face. As I struggled to breathe they crept forward and teased around my nostrils. His low, scratchy voice made me think of snakes squirming through a meadow of dry grass.

“What about the money?” I gasped. “Can’t I just—”

“You’ve just defaulted your payment, and that means I get to make a new deal. It’s you or Raphael. Do you accept the terms?”

The heavies gripped me and made sure I couldn’t move an inch. My heart accelerated, and I could only watch as Alistair’s bony finger approached my forehead.
Fuck, no
.

It felt like a drill boring through my skull, and I groaned, praying he’d be quick. Like last time, my life laid out before my eyes. Snapshots of the worst moments: the drug deals, the guys I’d delivered, Gran’s collapse, sleeping rough. “Hmm, what’s this?” The flickering images paused.
Kitten
. Her smile. A kiss onto my hand. Her cry of pleasure as she came in my arms. “Pretty,” murmured Alistair.

I forced words out of my mouth. “Leave her alone.”

“So much potential,” he crooned to me, but before I could respond, the finger pressed harder, and I felt my knees buckle. “Is this really what you want, Dante?”

The swirling images started again, but this time, things that hadn’t happened. Not yet. Like a kaleidoscope they blurred and shifted, changed to one picture then dissolved into another. Josh walking into
Armageddon
with me, a trusting smile on his face. Josh writhing in agony while I watched, standing beside Alistair. Kitten screaming my name with two men ripping away her clothes, taunting her when she begged them to stop.

“Please,” I whispered. “Please, no.”

I heard him sigh. Satisfied. The images vanished as though he’d flipped a switch, and the pulsing pain from his finger receded. My lungs burned when I sucked in a breath, and I forced myself to open my eyes.

Alistair held a narrow blade, inches from my face. “Do we have a deal, Dante?” he whispered with that inhuman rustling tone in his voice.

“Yes.”

What happened next was no surprise. One of the men wrenched my right arm forward and flattened my hand, ready for Alistair to slice into my palm. I barely felt it. My blood looked black in the dim light. It welled and oozed, before he pressed his own palm onto the wound. A brief moment of pain burned like a hot poker, and I bit my lip to avoid crying out.

“Five days, Dante. Or you’re mine for eternity.”

B
y 1:45, I’d completed another drive by. No sign of Dante, no call or text. The idea of leaving him here rankled with me, should I wait another half hour? As I tossed up the options, a large black Cadillac glided to the top of the street and cruised gracefully past the club entrance. With its blacked-out windows and private registration plate
ARMA 1
, this had to be Alistair. I felt a spark of adrenaline nudging at my tired body.

The Cadillac nosed into a side street, and I followed carefully, keeping a good distance before I pulled into the curb and killed the engine. The only street lamps were dim. The brightest light in the alley came from the Caddy’s headlights creating a spotlight effect on a group of men standing by the wall.

Shit
. That was Dante.

Held up by two huge men—probably bouncers—with a third man to one side, I could tell he was in pain from the slump of his head and the way his arms were twisted behind him. I sucked in my breath as one of the men laid a hard punch to his side.
Bastards
.

I was about to get out when a man emerged from the Cadillac. Every instinct screamed at me to stay where I was, there was something
not right
about him. I tried to quantify it. Ridiculously tall, probably almost seven feet, with a floor length black coat swishing around his ankles, but it wasn’t just that. I squinted, trying to figure out what I was looking at. It looked like mist swirling around him, as though he walked through a cloud of dust, kicked up by his feet. I couldn’t see beneath his coat for the misty cloud, and I rubbed my eyes, annoyed. I must be more tired than I thought.

I silently eased the car door open, watching as Tall Guy spoke to Dante. Four of them, plus the limo driver, versus two of us. Not good enough odds for me to wade in yet. I clenched my fists, frustrated at having to wait, but recognizing the stupidity of moving too soon.
Hang on, Dante.
The poor sod probably thought I’d left.

Minutes later, Tall Guy took a step back, nodded to the bouncers and they started hitting Dante, first one and then the other.

Fuck it
. I had to move, before they beat him to a bloody pulp. Reaching under the seat for the baseball bat I’d stashed earlier, I took my eyes off them for less than a second, and Tall Guy disappeared.

What the fuck?
I didn’t hear the door slam on the limo—he didn’t have time to go inside the club—but he’d gone. The limo pulled away, slow and smooth, bathing the alley in darkness again, and I joined the fray.

They didn’t hear my approach. I swung the bat into the back of the first bouncer’s knees, he yelped and collapsed to the floor as the second one registered my presence. “Dante!” I yelled, hoping they hadn’t beaten him unconscious. The second bouncer let go of him, turning to face me as Dante staggered back, his arms flailing.
Jeez
, this guy was big, all solid muscles and shaven head. He looked as though he snacked on Rottweilers. I held the bat in front of me, noting his hands bunching into fists but watching his eyes. They’d signal his next move.

He lurched forward. I sidestepped. He swung a massive arm in a loose punch, and I ducked. Darting behind him, I shoved him hard in the small of the back, and then whipped out his knees beneath him. He toppled to the ground in a groaning mass. They would only be down for a few seconds. I grabbed Dante’s arm and hauled him forward. “
Come on
!”

Pale eyes blinked and focused on me, widening in abject horror. “
Fuck
,” he croaked, trying to shake me free. “Get the fuck out of here—
now
.”

The bouncers were scrambling to their feet, and I tightened my grip on Dante’s arm. “You’re with me.
Fucking move it
, Dante.”

Dumb and Dumber blocked our path, both had pulled knives on me.

The blades gleamed in the faint orange glow from the streetlight, and I weighed up which to take on first. I’d sparred against knives in the gym a hundred times, but they didn’t know that.

“Take my back,” I ordered Dante and pushed the bat into his hands, one of which was already bleeding. He obeyed, and I stood poised, waiting for the first move.

Dumb lurched forward and made a flashy sweeping motion with his blade.
Easy
. A quick kick sent it flying and pulverized his wrist at the same time. I felt Dante swinging at something, probably the suited man, and I breathed deep, dragging back my focus, ready to tackle Dumber. He hesitated, his eyes flicking to his partner, moaning on the floor. I feinted left, watched him follow and chopped down on his elbow, the shock wave jarring up to my shoulder. He dropped the knife close to Dante’s foot—he kicked it away and grunted as he swung the bat again. I heard it collide with something and then a cry of pain. Dumber swung at me with his good arm and I dodged, waiting for the perfect moment to elbow him in the face. Blood sprayed from his nose, and he staggered back, stumbling over Dumb and landing in a clumsy heap. Hyped up on adrenaline, I grabbed Dante’s arm.

“Let’s go!”

9.2 Katherine

Suki shook me awake. “They’re on the way back. Josh said they’d be here in ten minutes.”

I rubbed my eyes as I tried to wake up. I’d dozed off on Suki’s bed, despite my best efforts to stay awake, and now I had no idea what the time was. I blinked and squinted at my watch; it was almost three in the morning.

Josh walked in first, with Dante a step behind. He was unsteady on his feet, but vertical and mobile to my relief. His face, though. Bruised and bloody, he’d clearly been used as someone’s punching bag, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Stunned didn’t even come close to describing him. Pale, almost white skin under the contusions, his eyes were wide and shocked, and he stared into the distance as though he was seeing horrors beyond our vision. He sagged into a chair while Suki and Josh embraced. I lurked in the background, trying to understand how I felt.

Flashbacks of Mum when I was little. My stepfather coming home drunk and bloody after another fight. I shook my head to dispel the memories.
Later
, I promised myself, I’ll think about that later.

Josh turned to me, a sympathetic smile on his face. “Hey, Katherine, you okay?”

I swallowed and nodded before shoving my fears aside. I had to wonder if Dante had been hit on the head, if that would account for his dazed expression as he stared at Josh.

“Thanks again, man.” His voice was as gravelly as a heavy smoker. He licked swollen lips and looked around, searching for something and then locked onto me. A sad smile. He switched back to Josh and held out a trembling hand. “You shouldn’t have been there.” They shook hands, and he pushed himself upright, standing there swaying. “D’you have my bike?”

He couldn’t be thinking of leaving, not in this state. I stepped forward, hands on my hips and blocked his path. “You’d better not be thinking of going anywhere. Not right now, not like this.” I jerked my chin at him, watching the wariness on his face. “Apart from anything else, you’re going to tell us what happened tonight.”

His hands dropped to my shoulders. “You don’t understand, baby.”

“So tell me.”

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until he leaned down to rest his forehead on mine. “Anyone ever tell you you’re pushy?”

I exhaled and wrapped my arms around him, freezing when he stiffened and hissed in pain.

“Sit down, Angel.” My bottom lip threatened to wobble, but I still sounded fierce, and he complied, a hint of a smile on his poor, battered face.

When he unfastened his shirt, we collectively gasped at the bruises raked across his chest and side. Suki wrapped ice inside a towel for him while I bathed his face and washed away the dried blood. Josh poured him some whisky, and we settled down to listen to his story. Dante sat on the sofa with me while Suki and Josh sprawled on their bed. I laid a tender kiss on his cheek.

He was hesitant when he spoke. “When I was sixteen, I started dabbling in summoning. I didn’t really know what I was doing, I guess I wanted to experiment and get back at this dick in school that was always on my case. So there I was, performing a ritual, and I conjured up this spirit.
Alistair
.” He took a thoughtful sip of his drink. “It was the most amazing rush, the strongest power I could imagine, but I had no idea how to control it, and I panicked. It turned on me, and as I screeched for help, Gran came bursting into my room.” His eyes gazed into the distance. “It attacked her.” A whisper. “She tried to protect me, to pull me out, and she… she, ah… Oh God. She had a fucking heart attack.” His voice raced, rising in pitch. “She died in front of me.”

He dropped his head back, his breathing harsh as he tried to get himself under control. We waited. Another deep breath and he sat up, shifting position to gather me in his arms, his chin resting on my shoulder.

I could hear the racing of his heart.

“I couldn’t let Gran die, so I called up Alistair again, and this time, I made a deal.”

I lifted my head and stared at him. He was serious.

“I asked him to bring Gran back to life, as she had been. And he did.” He paused.

We listened, spellbound.

His voice became bitter. “Like I said, I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I was so fucking naïve. If you deal with a demon, you have to read the fine print, and I never gave it a thought.”

I couldn’t stay quiet. “Fine print?”

He let out a breath. “Yeah. She came back
as she had been
. In perfect health—but with the mind of a three year old.”

There was silence as we stared at Dante, his cheeks flushed as he met our eyes.

“Sure it wasn’t just oxygen deprivation?” Josh sounded curious, but Dante shook his head firmly.

“Nu-huh. She was dead. No heartbeat, no pulse, for half an hour while I pleaded with this demon and promised my life away.” He took a sip of his drink. “She was in hospital, and they’re pronouncing her a miracle, and I’m all celebrating and feeling on top of the fucking world. And then they told me she’d need care for the rest of her life.”

I leaned my face onto his collarbone and hugged him gently. “It’s tragic, but it doesn’t mean–”

“I haven’t finished yet, baby.” Another sip.

Josh leaned across and topped up his drink.

“Where was I? Oh yeah. So the next day, this big, black limo shows up and this guy waltzes in.
Alistair
. He says I owe him. Big time. He has a facility where Gran can live the rest of her life in comfort and safety, but there are conditions. I have to pay him, and so every month I scrape together every fucking penny I can.” The breath hitched in his throat, and his hand tightened in my hair. “Only this month I delivered duds. Counterfeits—I had no idea. I won it in a poker game at Nan’s, and it never crossed my mind it was fake.”

I stiffened when he mentioned Nan. Would that have been before the séance in the control tower?

“So yeah, tonight was all about that.”

“So what happens next?” Josh.

Dante went completely still. When he finally spoke, it came out nonchalant. “He’s given me a few days to replace it.” I didn’t believe him for a minute.

While I puzzled over his words, Josh spoke up. “Your gran, can’t you just move her?”

“Nope. That’s one of the conditions.”

“So this just goes on? Indefinitely? And how much money are you even talking about?”

“Yeah. It goes on until I can’t come up with the money any more. If I don’t pay, she dies.”

“How much, Dante?”

He took another long sip. “It went up this month, again. It’s just over five grand at the moment.”

“A month?” Josh looked appalled. Dante just nodded and sank some more scotch. “You don’t have a job?”

“No.”

“So how the fuck do you raise it?”

He shrugged. “Poker games, séances, this and that.” He hesitated, his jaw tightened. “Sometimes I run errands for him, deliveries and that.”

The puzzlement on Josh’s face morphed into a scowl. “We’re talking drugs, aren’t we? What the hell are you mixed up in, Dante?”

Suki untangled herself from Josh and leaned forward. “You were sixteen when this happened, and you’re now, what twenty two? That’s six years. You’ve been scraping money together for six years? How long can you keep doing this for?”

“I don’t. Know.” He snarled the words. “She’s my
gran
. She’s the mother I never had. And she’s so fucking happy. It breaks my heart every time I see her.” He buried his face in my hair while I tried to comfort him, my own heart breaking at the same time.

9.3 Dante

I couldn’t take my eyes off Josh.
Raphael
. Alistair’s words continued to ring in my head. Raphael was my brother. How could this even be possible?

Somehow I managed to limp through my explanation about Gran and my never-ending debt, while trying not to stare.
God
. If Alistair were going to create a special level of hell with my name on it, it would look something like this. But now I had a way out, a flickering light at the end of this deep, dark tunnel.
I’d be free
. Gran could live out the rest of her days without this axe hanging over her head.