Night's Favour (35 page)

“Christ.”
 
Carlisle shuffled into the kitchen.
 
“I’ll put on some coffee.”

Valentine walked out wearing a tartan shirt.
 
“Seriously?”

“It’s Ralph Lauren.”
 
Danny looked him up and down.
 
“Try not to get crap on it.”

“Hey.”
 
Carlisle’s voice came out of the kitchen.
 
“Want some company?”

“You’re in no position to go anywhere.”
 
Valentine adjusted the collar of his shirt.
 
“Damn, the last guy who owned this was a midget.”

“God…
 
Shit.”
 
Something clattered into the sink.
 
“You’re probably right.
 
I can’t even stir sugar in like a real human.
 
Just be careful.”
 
Carlisle came back out of the kitchen, carrying two cups.
 
She handed one to John.
 
“Watch out.”

“Yeah.”
 
Danny nodded.
 
“White vans, got it.”

Carlisle nodded.
 
“Get going.
 
I’m going to make some calls.”

“Still haven’t found your partner?”
 
Valentine kept fiddling with his collar.

“No.”
 
Carlisle shook her head.
 
“I’m not trying…
 
I’m not going to call him anymore.
 
I need to find out who these assholes are who keep shooting at my friends.”
 
She winced.
 
“And me.”

John sipped his coffee.
 
“This is terrible.”
 
He sipped again, making a face.
 
“Put Val back in the kitchen.
 
He can make a decent brew.”

“I’m licensed for firearms use.”

“Great coffee.”
 
John took a big slurp.
 
“Some of the best.”

Danny took Valentine’s hand.
 
“Let’s go.”

“Sure.”
 
He tugged as his collar again.
 
“Maybe on the way back we can get me a new shirt.”

They walked out to the car, Adalia in tow.
 
She had a small backpack of clothes, and carried only a single toy.
 
Prancer
.
 
Danny bundled Adalia into the backset of her car.

Her daughter looked up at her.
 
“How long will I be staying with Mandy?”

Danny made sure her belt was clipped in.
 
“I thought you liked Mandy.”

“I like Mandy.
 
But I like Valentine too.
 
He’s nice.”
 
She held up the pony.

Valentine climbed into the passenger seat, turning to look back at them.
 
“You can talk to Prancer.
 
Tell her stuff you’d tell me.”

Danny got into the driver’s seat.
 
“That’s right sweetie.
 
And we’ll call you all the time.”

“I know.”
 
Adalia pouted.
 
“It’s not as fun though.”

Val looked out onto the street.
 
“No white vans.”

“No white vans.”
 
Danny put the car into drive, and pulled away from her house.

A few moments later, a black town car pulled out from the kerb and followed them.
 
They didn’t notice — it wasn’t a white van.

☽ ◇ ☾

“Thank you so much for this, Mandy.”
 
Danny hugged her friend.
 
“It means a lot.”

Mandy looked at Valentine out of the corner of her eye.
 
He was settling Adalia in; they were talking about something.
 
“So I see.”

Danny smacked Mandy on the arm.
 
“Hands off.
 
It’s not a tag and release programme.”

Mandy gave a mock sigh.
 
“So sad.”
 
She hefted Adalia’s bag.
 
“Anything I need to know about?”

Danny shook her head.
 
“It’s probably best if you don’t.”

“You in some kind of trouble?”

Danny looked at her daughter, playing with Valentine.
 
“Some kind, yeah.
 
I’m not sure if it’s good trouble, or bad trouble.
 
Maybe a little of column A, a little of column B.”

Mandy laughed.
 
“Oh girl.
 
That’s bad trouble most definitely.
 
Two columns of bad trouble.”

“I guess.”
 
She reached for her purse.
 
“You’ll need some cash —”

“You know we don’t work that way.
 
There’ll be some other favour.
 
Later.”
 
She raised her eyebrows in Valentine’s direction.
 
“It’ll be a big favour.”

“I’d prefer to pay up front.
 
That kind of favour sounds expensive.”
 
Danny eyed her in mock seriousness.
 
“Do you take credit?”

“You said on the phone I shouldn’t go to work for a couple days.”

“You can manage that?”

“I got some time they owe me.
 
You don’t want Adalia in school?”

“No.”
 
Danny shrugged.
 
“It’s not really very safe.”

“Since when is school not safe?”

“Since —”
 
Danny gestured to Valentine.
 
“Since bad trouble came knocking.”

“He in the gangs?”
 
Mandy looked at her over her glasses.
 
“You can cut free now.”

“It’s not like that.”
 
Danny put her hand on Mandy’s arm.
 
“It’s not him.”

“You come in here with two black eyes, we’ll be having this conversation again.”

“Fair enough.”
 
Danny put her purse away.
 
“And don’t answer the door to people you don’t know.”

“Jesus.
 
Can I order pizza?”

“No.”

“I was joking.”

“I wasn’t.”

The silence sat between them for a bit.
 
Mandy spoke up.
 
“Ok, no pizza.”

“No pizza.”

Val got up from where he was talking with Adalia and came over to them.
 
“Thanks again for this, Mandy.”

“Your girlfriend’s gonna owe me, don’t you worry.”

“Girlf— right.”
 
Val looked back at Adalia.
 
“Is there anything you need?”

“No.
 
But thank you.
 
You two best be getting back to whatever trouble you’re in.”

“I have one question.”
 
Val looked around the small apartment.

“You don’t like my decorator?”

“What kind of parent names their child Mandy?
 
In this day and age, I mean — really.”

Mandy broke out laughing.
 
“Oh, I see why you like this one, Danny.
 
He’s just like you.”

Danny smiled.
 
“He’s not quite as smart.”

“Hey.”
 
Valentine pointed at his chest.
 
“Job in computers.
 
That’s pro levels of smart.”

Danny nodded at Mandy.
 
“Like I said.
 
Not quite as smart.”

Mandy chuckled.
 
“It’s short for Mandela.”

“I —”
 
Val adjusted his collar again.
 
“That’s a boy’s name.”

“Only child.
 
Black rights activist parents.
 
Do the math.
 
You’re apparently smart.”

“Mandy it is.
 
Actually, there’s one thing I need.”

“What’s that?”

“You got a bigger shirt?”

“Go on.
 
Get out of my house.”
 
Mandy hustled them to the door.

“Don’t forget to lock it,” said Danny from the other side.

☽ ◇ ☾

“She seems nice.”
 
Val sat in the passenger seat next to her.
 
“Where’d you meet her?”

“Work.
 
She’s a short order cook.”

“That’s what her job is.
 
But what does she do?”

Danny looked out the window of the car, then started it up.
 
“I don’t know.
 
She’s my friend.
 
That’s enough.”

“Don’t forget.”

“What?”
 
The little car was picking up speed, the streets quiet at this time.

“Shirts.”

“It’s late.
 
Nothing will be open.”

“Ah, Christ.
 
You’re right.
 
Well — FUCK!
 
STOP THE CAR!”

Danny slammed on the brakes.
 
“What is it?”

But Valentine was already running.
 
He’d kicked his door open before she’d come to a stop.
 
She looked out the car as he sprinted up the street, back towards Mandy’s place.
 
He looked back over his shoulder.
 
“Call the police!
 
Tell them you heard gunshots!”
 
Then he was gone, legs pumping as he ran.

Oh no
, thought Danny.
 
My baby.
 
My baby’s up there.
 
She spun the wheel around hard and floored the gas.
 
The little car’s tyres scudded on the tarmac as she drove back up the street, following Val.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Val heard the shot from behind him.
 
He’d been saying something to Danny, but the memory of it was already gone.
 
He hadn’t stopped to think, he’d just —

The pup is in danger
.

— kicked the door open, shouting something, then dropped out onto the street as the car was still moving.
 
He’d seen the smoke coming off the tyres as he’d come into a crouch, then turned away he sprinted up a street.
 
Danny had called out after him, and he’d shouted something back at her.

He heard her car turning around, coming after him, but he was running now, pushing his body faster than he’d —

Tongue lolling, pack hunts through the trees.
 
Prey is close.

— run before.
 
The two men in the black town car had started to get out as they saw him running towards them.
 
Their dark suits were identical.
 
They moved in tandem, driver and passenger doors opening at the same time.
 
The passenger was dropping a —
radio? phone?
— back into the car as he stepped out.
 
The driver was pulling out a pistol as his foot touched the pavement.
 
Val was on him before his gun had cleared the holster, dragging him from the car with one arm.

The man tried to bring the gun to bear on Val, but he clubbed the man’s arm aside with his free hand.
 
The gun spun across the bonnet of the car, clattering to the sidewalk.
 
Val dragged the door open, first slamming the man’s head through the window glass, then throwing him to the ground.
 
Val held onto the back of his jacket, the man flailing and trying to rise on all fours; Val slammed the door into his head, once —

They think to hunt us?

— twice, the sound hollow.
 
The body jerked with each slam —

They hunt our pack?

— three times, then Val heaved with his arm still holding the back of the driver’s jacket, dragging the man up and tossing him aside.
 
The man’s body fell to the road behind him.
 
The passenger had freed his pistol from his jacket, was bringing it —

Move.

— around to bear on Val.
 
Val slammed the driver’s door closed —

Faster.

— and twisted his body sideways as the gun went off.
 
Val could feel the kinetic wave of the bullet as it passed through the space where he’d been standing.
 
His hands gripped the edge of the roof where it met the door, a hanging shard of glass crunching against his palm.
 
The gun spoke again —

Strike from below.

— but he wasn’t there anymore, tucking his feet up as he gripped the edge of the roof.
 
He pushed his feet through the open driver’s window, straightening his body as he arched through the interior of the town car.
 
His shoes hit the man in the stomach on the other side, knocking the passenger off his feet and backwards onto the pavement.
 
Val grabbed onto the passenger seat, scrambling out of the open passenger door.

The man had retained his gun, and was struggling to bring it around on Val.
 
Val kicked it aside, the gun clattering to the sidewalk.
 
He reached down, pulling the man up by the front of his jacket with one hand.
 
The man was babbling —
please no please don’t please stop
— as Val grabbed him with his other hand.
 
Using both hands, he leaned back for leverage and hurled the man into the side of the car.
 
His body hit against the side of the rear passenger door, the metal deforming inwards.
 
The car rocked with the force of it, the man bouncing back towards Val.
 
Val was already moving, his punch connecting with the man’s head, the hit knocking him back into the car.
 
The roof of the car buckled upwards as the man’s body hit the side again, denting it further, the back window crumbling into small, granular chunks as the tempered glass broke.