Red Angel (16 page)

‘Good girl,’ he says, obviously reading my mind.

I get into the passenger seat. The moment X gets into the car and the tinted windows conceal him from the rest of the world, he lets out tiny moan and cricks his neck. His glamour vanishes, revealing the twisting tattoos and ever-present daemonic aura.

‘That feels so good!’ he exclaims. ‘It’s good to be free, you know? To live your life the way you want to live it.’

My eyes narrow. Was he listening in to what happened with Arzo and Dahlia?

‘No,’ he tells me. ‘As surprising as it may seem to you, I don’t spend my life running around after you and eavesdropping.’ I snort. He could have fooled me. ‘But,’ he continues, ‘it’s screaming out from your conscience. You, Bo Blackman, feel bad about it.’

I shift in my seat. I don’t need to examine the inner workings of my mind. ‘Should I trust Dahlia?’

X laughs. ‘How should I know? I’ve not met the woman.’

‘You know
of
her though. Her husband worked for you.’

He puts the car into gear and drives off. ‘Water under the bridge. If you like, I can go after her and…’

‘No.’ My voice is flat. ‘It’s fine.’

He laughs again. ‘As you wish.’

I fold my arms and stare resolutely ahead. ‘Where are we going?’

‘Not far.’

‘Because the others back at New Order will wonder where I’ve gone. And it’ll be daylight soon.’

‘Don’t worry, little Bo. I’ll have you back and tucked up safely in bed before the sun rises.’ There’s such amusement in his tone that I look away and button my lips. I’m not going head to head with X, not even with banter. Unfortunately, my refusal to engage him any further seems to amuse him even more.

He was right when he said we weren’t going far. We pull up outside a familiar building. Wary, I stay where I am; I’ve done enough breaking and entering lately.

X walks round to my door, opens it and gives me a little bow. ‘I had no idea you were such a lady,’ he comments. ‘It’s just as well I chose this location for our … rendezvous.’

‘I am not breaking into Harrods in the middle of the night.’

He smiles. ‘Don’t worry,’ he says. ‘I’ve got the keys. Follow me.’

Against my better judgment I step heavily out of the car. X is already at the door. ‘Aren’t you worried about CCTV?’ I ask. ‘You’re still you.’

X chuckles. ‘I’m touched that you’re so concerned about me.’ He opens the door with a flourish and bows again. ‘Ladies first.’

I shake my head. ‘I’m not going in there.’

‘It’s fine.’ His eyes glitter. ‘I’ve cleared it with the owner.’ When I don’t move, he raises his eyebrows. ‘If you don’t come inside, you won’t get your present.’

Oh God. Nausea squirms in my belly. This could be really bad.

‘You’ll like it, Bo.’ He grins broadly. ‘I promise.’

I close my eyes briefly, dreading to think what’s waiting for me. Until the events at the television studio, I’d felt an odd amity with the daemon despite my terror of him. Now my instinct to run away is all I can think about. With a deep sense of foreboding, I enter the famous store. X closes the door behind us and walks ahead to show me the way.

He leads me to the food hall. He is obviously aware of my fear because he seems to be taking perverse pleasure in goading me. ‘I put your present here,’ he says. ‘I wanted to keep them fresh.’

Them? I swallow and stop in my tracks. ‘Listen, X,’ I say, aware of the tremor in my voice. ‘I know I owe you. Believe me, I’m not about to forget. But you promised the favour wouldn’t involve anything illegal. I appreciate that you thought killing Marcus Lanscombe was a good thing to do but there were other avenues that could have been explored. The police…’

‘The police are impotent as you well know.’ X shrugs, a languid motion that makes his opinion obvious. ‘Besides, isn’t legality a pointless argument? Vampires are above the law.’

‘It’s not as simple as that,’ I answer stiffly. ‘We don’t answer to human law but we have very strict laws of our own. And murder, kidnapping, whatever … they’re dealt with far more severely than the humans realise.’

‘When it suits the Families’ purposes.’ He traces his fingernail down a display of caviar, tapping the tins as if to ascertain their quality. ‘They’d never have bothered with Lanscome, would they?’

‘Because no one knew about him!’

‘No one cared to find out.’ He looks closely at me. ‘Favour or no favour, Bo – I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to.’

I’m not sure what new trick this is. ‘X…’

‘It’s not a trick.’ He winks. ‘Trust me.’

Like that’s about to happen. I stare at the darkened shelves. I can’t smell any blood. Not yet. ‘Fine.’

X smiles as if my answer is what he expected all along. I take a deep breath and step forward.

‘Towards the back. Keep going straight ahead. When you reach the Stilton, you’ll know you’ve gone too far.’

I do as I’m told. X hangs back. I wonder how far his mind reading extends; I’m guessing at least the length of the hall. I reach behind my neck and massage a stiff knot of tension in my shoulders. I knead it carefully, trying to work it out. It’s a pointless effort. The deeper I go into the food hall, the more tense I become.

I scan the darkness. Nothing’s moving. Nothing’s there. Perhaps it’s just a practical joke. Any minute now I’ll slip on a banana skin, X will laugh uproariously and we can all go home.

That’s when I hear the moan. It’s faint and muffled but it’s definitely a moan. I turn slowly towards the noise, past one shelf, then another. There’s a scraping sound and an odd judder. Shit, I feel like I’m trapped in a horror film. I pause at an intersection, chocolate on one side and coffee on another, then I peer round.

Three seated shapes greet me. I blink and jerk back. I peer round again. My fangs elongate. It’s not a conscious action – it must be a result of the stress. I still can’t see who the people are. If X is setting me up again, I’m going to kill him. Or at least have strict words with him. Okay, I’ll probably just mutter something under my breath and run away.

I shuffle forward. The flashing red of a security camera throws shadows across their faces. Who the hell are they? The one on the left moans again; his neighbour flinches and swings his head round as if to shush him. The contours of his face are displayed momentarily and I recognise him. It’s the guy O’Shea shagged – the one who had the ear that started all this in the first place.

Leaping over, I grab his chin and tilt it up, just to be sure. ‘You,’ I hiss. ‘I know you.’

His mouth is taped shut but the snarl in his eyes is enough of an answer. I stare at the other two; I know them too. They’re the bastards who went to Rogu3’s school, the ones who tried to kill him. They tried to gun down a kid. I can’t help myself; I throw a punch, smashing the first one in the face. His head snaps back. He’s obviously tied to the chair and he can’t fight back.

My breath is coming in short bursts. I do what I can to control it and walk back three steps, keeping my eyes trained on them. I fumble for the white pebble. The instant I touch it, I feel better. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to hurt these pricks very badly but it helps me to remember that’s not the way things should be done.

‘You should have stayed in Venezuela, boys,’ I spit.

The one on the right has a muscle near his eye that’s twitching furiously. Making a quick decision, I reach over and rip off the tape.

He bares his teeth. ‘Don’t you think we wanted to?’

X. I turn but the Kakos daemon is nowhere to be seen. I wonder if I now owe him another favour. I can’t understand how this scenario is helping him. I push away my worries about whatever game he might be playing and turn back.

‘Why? Why did you do it? Why attack the Agathos Court? Why try to kill so many people?’

The man coughs, spittle escaping his mouth. ‘Can I have some water first?’

I think about it. ‘No,’ I say finally. ‘Tell me first.’

I can see him mulling it over. ‘If I tell you then I’m dead.’

‘You’re dead anyway.’

‘Nah, you’re just a little girl. You won’t hurt me.’

I bare my fangs, leaning close to his pulsating jugular. ‘Guess again.’ The flicker of fear in his eyes is enough for now. I make a show licking my lips. ‘You probably don’t taste very nice,’ I muse. ‘I don’t need to hurt you though. Back there, lurking in the darkness, is the Kakos daemon who brought you here. He can read your mind. And he can hurt you a lot more than I can.’

Shadows flit across his face. He knows I’m telling the truth. ‘We were given a lot of money,’ he says. ‘A lot of money to kill one little daemon, take his ear and deliver it to a specified address.’

‘Who? Who gave you the money?’ I ask urgently.

He meets my eyes. ‘I have no idea.’ Damn it. He’s telling the truth.

‘How could you not know?’ I hiss.

‘We were contacted anonymously through a broker. After that our communications were through a series of dead drops.’

‘The broker? Where is he now?’

He smiles coldly. ‘The broker is broken. Chopped up into little pieces.’

‘You did that?’

‘No.’

He is lying about the broker; his eyes give him away. This guy and his damn buddies probably gutted him, hoping that torture would reveal who their employer was. I circle round him, clenching and unclenching my fists. He retains a stiff, almost military posture and there’s defiance in his eyes.

‘Once you lost the ear, why go to so much trouble to get it back? Why try and kill so many?’

He sighs as if it’s a stupid question. ‘Who cares?’

I harden my voice. ‘I care.’

‘There were going to be others. Three others. We couldn’t advertise what we were doing because we didn’t want them to be spooked and run off. If we deviated from the protocol, we knew our lives would be forfeit.’

‘Which others? Who were they?’ I demand.

He tries to shrug but his bonds prevent him. ‘I don’t know. Once one contract was fulfilled we were going to get the next name.’ His expression turns wistful. ‘We only managed the one.’

I want to hurt him very, very badly but I keep my tone even and my arms by my sides. ‘Whose ear was it?’

‘Some woman. Madeline Gregory.’

‘And what was the address? The one you were supposed to deliver her ear to?’

He rolls his eyes. ‘So many questions. Does it really matter?’ I don’t reply, I simply stand in front of him and put my hands on my hips. He sighs again. ‘12 Forest Avenue.’

I file it away. Now we’re getting somewhere.

‘Are we done now?’ he asks.

I start to nod, then change my mind. ‘The money,’ I say slowly. ‘How much was it?’

He smirks. ‘It wasn’t a wad of unmarked notes, if that’s what you’re thinking. It was gold. Three shiny gold bars. One for each of us.’

It’s all connected. I knew it. When these idiots disappeared from the scene, the mastermind simply hired more – Creed and Wyatt. When
they
messed up, they were summarily dispatched. Whoever is doing this is desperate not to reveal their identity. Is it a simple case of revenge or is there more to it?

‘Tell me about Checkers.’

He looks confused. ‘Who?’

I look into his eyes, ascertaining the truth. ‘Never mind,’ I mutter.

All three of the captive daemons stiffen abruptly as they see something behind me. There’s no mistaking their fear.

‘Are you done now?’ X asks smoothly.

‘I guess. I don’t know.’ I look at him. ‘Why? Why did you do this?’

He smiles. ‘I thought you’d appreciate the opportunity to take your revenge.’

I hold the image of my pebble in my mind’s eye. ‘I don’t want revenge,’ I tell him. ‘I want justice.’

X laughs softly. ‘One and the same, Bo.’

‘Was he telling the truth?’

He inclines his head. ‘He was – for the most part. Poor Madeline. He was the one to take her ear, you know. Post mortem.’ He points to the man in the middle. ‘He put the ruby in.’ He points to the last one. ‘And he let your little daemon friend steal it away before it could be delivered. Don’t you think they deserve to be hurt?’

I stare at them. They’re bound and helpless but the malevolence and spite in their eyes remain.

‘Think of Rogu3,’ X whispers. ‘What they tried to do to him. He’s a child.’

‘You brought them here.’

His black eyes gleam and his tattoos twist under the dim light, writhing like inky snakes. ‘I have … power abroad.’

‘Why have you done this?’ I ask, shaking my head in confusion.

He answers me with another question. ‘Don’t they deserve to die? Shouldn’t they suffer for what they did? They’re terrorists, Bo. Evil.’

I turn away. ‘Call the police.’

‘You must possess unshakeable faith in the justice system.’

‘It’s the right thing to do.’

X leans in. ‘Is it?’

I swallow hard, reach in my pocket and take out my little white stone. I stare at it lying there in my palm, small and innocuous.