Wolfsbane: 3 (Rebel Angels) (43 page)

Seth drew his lips back from his teeth, but it wasn’t what Hannah would call a smile.

‘I knew where you were. You think I didn’t feel you there at Tornashee? It’s my
house
, you big gobshite. You think I didn’t feel you barge in without an
invitation?’

The Wolf growled softly.

‘I wanted to be with you,’ said Seth coldly. ‘How could I find Rory before you, when you wouldn’t let me See him?
How else could I find him?’
His yell was
rank with fury. ‘I knew you would get to my son, Kilrevin. You were always going to find him, so I had to be with you when you did.
Didn’t I?
’

Rory had gone entirely white. His eyes caught Hannah’s.

~
On purpose. He did this on purpose. Everything.

But, ‘You’re lying.’ The Wolf breathed hard.

‘Nah. You’re so predictable. Where would the fun be in killing me? When I could still watch my son die, and you could take a bit longer over me?’

The Wolf’s eyes were wide with rage. ‘I could have killed you on the spot!’

‘Could have.’ Seth shrugged. ‘But you didn’t.’

‘Silly me!’ said the Wolf after a long moment. ‘Let’s put that right.’

‘Not just now.’ Seth swung the handcuffs warningly.

‘Of course just now.’ The Wolf chuckled. ‘I wouldn’t have killed your son, you twat, not right away. Kate needs him! And you forgot about the handcuffs!’

‘Okay, that’s true. Silly me, this time. And I know you wouldn’t have killed Rory,’ said Seth, ‘not right away. But you’d have killed Conal’s girl on
the spot. And I wasn’t having that.’

Hannah’s turn to pale, Hannah’s turn to whimper softly. He hadn’t delivered himself into the Wolf’s hands for Rory, she realised. He’d done it for her. She wanted
to cry, or jump off the cliff.

‘Kilrevin, man, you taste the way you are.’ Seth wiped his mouth and spat. ‘Foul.’

Drawing his sword, the Wolf leaped for Seth. Ducking, Seth charged forward, but it was a hopeless contest, and Seth had never really had a cat’s chance. Reacting fast, the Wolf checked and
dodged and thrust again, and the sword plunged deep into Seth’s side.

Rory yelled in horror as his father sucked in a stunned breath. The Wolf withdrew the sword for another strike, Seth making a high sound in his throat as the blade came out of
him.

Rory flung himself down the last few feet of slope, then sprang into the air, twisting and kicking. His foot caught the Wolf’s shoulder and spun him aside so that the second lunge, aimed
at Seth’s heart, missed him altogether. Rory was in the air a moment longer, turning, but the Wolf was fast, and out of his reach. He dropped to the earth in a cat-crouch.

Roaring, the Wolf drew his sword back for a lethal swing. Rory eyed him, nerves screaming, waiting to sense which way to jump. He’d find out too late and he knew it. Fifty-fifty.

Somewhere inside the Wolf’s rage, his orders from Kate must have lodged deep in his brain. Instead of slicing Rory’s head from his shoulders, the sword stayed drawn back in the air
for a fraction of an instant, and that was all Seth needed. He leaped onto the Wolf’s back, wrapped his legs round the man’s barrel chest and locked his left arm round his neck,
handcuffs swinging. His free hand snatched the raised sword arm and hung on desperately.

Purple-faced, struggling for air, the Wolf clutched wildly at Seth with his mangled hand, somehow finding a handful of hair and dragging him inexorably down. Seth slid sideways but he clung on
with his legs, and he didn’t let go of the Wolf’s sword arm.

Rory rolled out of reach and sprang up, but he hesitated. There was still no mental connection with his father, and without it he didn’t know where to aim an attack. The wrong move would
be a fatal move, and yet he could see Seth weakening, could see blood throbbing out of his side.

Seth was hanging almost upside down by now. All that was holding him on was one ankle hooked round the Wolf’s neck, together with his loosening left arm. In seconds he was going to slip,
and his grip would fail, and then the sword would arc down and cut him in half.

‘Dad!’ barked Rory.

Seth twisted his dangling head, making fleeting eye contact. His teeth were clenched but he was almost laughing at the ridiculousness of his position.
Sod this for a game of soldiers
,
thought Rory.
He isn’t going to die.

Seth held his gaze for a second more; then he closed his eyes with an aching sigh and let go his grip on the Wolf’s sword arm. The Wolf flung him off with a yell and the sword lashed down,
but Rory leaped to intercept it. The Wolf hadn’t expected him, didn’t see him till he was locked on his arm like a yowling cat.

The Wolf gave a snarl that was all exasperation as his maimed left hand went round Rory’s throat. There was raw flesh, slippery blood and exposed bone in that grip; Rory could feel the
loose forefinger flapping against his skin. His vision darkened as he struggled for breath but he held grimly onto the Wolf’s arm.

‘Give me a moment,’ snarled the Wolf, ‘while I throttle your son.’

‘No.’ Staggering to his feet, Seth slammed his fist into Kilrevin’s face.

The man dropped Rory like a hot coal. As Seth collapsed to his knees, his gasp of pain was drowned by the Wolf’s scream of agony.

Seth grabbed his wounded side, blood pumping out over his splayed fingers. The Wolf dropped his sword and reeled back, both hands clutched over his left eye.

Rory scrambled to his feet as the Wolf stumbled blindly, tottering on the edge.
Suil
, he thought.
Teallach
. The poor priggish guide whose name he’d never known. Finn
MacAngus, whose violent death must have broken his father’s heart. But the Wolf was screaming, helpless with pain, his centre of gravity lost, and the faces of the dead would not form in
Rory’s mind.

So Hannah walked calmly past him, and punched the Wolf hard in the nose.

As he reeled back, silenced by shock, the Wolf’s hands came away from his face, flailing and windmilling in the air. Blood and vitreous fluid streamed from his left eye around the stump of
a bronze pin. The Wolf careered backwards over the cliff edge, vanishing from sight. Distantly, there was a muffled thump; then a splash that was lost in a crash of waves.

Seth staggered to his feet, his t-shirt soaked with blood, and clutched his son into his arms. He moaned with pain but he wouldn’t let Rory go.

‘Dad!
Dad!’
Rory hugged him hard, tugging him back from the edge. ‘Sit
down!
’

Seth slumped down, shocked. Hannah ran to him, pulling his t-shirt gingerly away from his side.

‘Give me your shirt!’ she yelled.

Rory stripped off his t-shirt and Hannah thrust it hard against Seth’s side. She sobbed, shoving it hard into the wound and ignoring his yell of agonised protest.

‘Leave it!’
screamed Seth.

‘No!’
she screamed back.

‘LE
A
V
E IT!’
he howled, trying to writhe away from her.

‘But you’re bleeding!’

Seth seized her arm. ‘I’m bleeding to death, Hannah,’ he hissed furiously. ‘I can feel it. Get a grip, and get my son out of here.’

‘He won’t leave you!’ she yelled at him. She took a gulp of air.
‘I won’t leave you!’

Swearing violently, Seth yanked her hand and the t-shirt away, and blood jetted thickly out of the hole. ‘Rory, call Finn’s horse and
go!
’ Again he cursed.
‘And take Florence bloody Nightingale with you!’

Hannah snarled, and hollered an insult at him. As his lip curled and he took a deep breath, entirely up for a profane screaming match, she lunged forward madly and shoved her bare hand into the
wound.

Seth screamed, really screamed.

Rory snatched at Hannah’s wrist, trying to drag her hand out of the hole, but her skin was slippery with blood and her strength was amazing. He cursed her, tore at her arm, but as they
struggled, as she forced her hand inside his father’s wound with vicious determination, he became gradually aware that Seth had stopped fighting.

He was still cursing wildly, but he wasn’t fighting any more and his hand was tight round Hannah’s bloody wrist, holding it steady inside his torso. Then, only a little more gently,
she pushed in the fingers of her other hand too. His face contorted, Seth fell silent.

She bit her lip hard and her hands tightened inside him. Seth opened his mouth and howled with pain one last time; then Hannah snarled in his face, and yanked her hands out of the wound.

His voice strained, Seth said: ‘The usual thing now, Florence, is you seal the cut.’

She grinned at him and he grinned back, and her fingers closed none too gently around the lips of the wound and pressed them together.

Rory swore, expressively.

‘Language, laddie,’ said Seth absently, wincing as he touched the sealed wound.

‘Yeah,’ said Hannah as she drew her hand tentatively away and stared at the congealed blood. ‘I’m pretty surprised myself.’

‘You could knock me down with a feather,’ said Seth, flinching as he sat up. ‘But maybe that’s not so surprising.’

Hannah put her hand to his face, frowning, and traced the gaping gash the Wolf had drawn down the side of it. Seth watched her, eyes silver and intent, and her fingers trembled as she pinched
the edges of the cut together.

She seemed to have lost the knack. Cursing, she lost her concentration and had to begin again. When she drew back, the scar like messy amateur stitching, she was weak and weepy.

She spat a curse. ‘Shut up. Stop looking at me. Shut up.’

Seth went on looking at her, with a lot of amusement, but he put his hand to her face, wiping the tears with his thumb. ‘You’ll feel rubbish for a bit,’ he said comfortingly.
‘You’ve only just discovered it. It takes a lot out of you. You’ve had no practice.’

Blinking hard, she shoved herself up and away from him. Leaning on Rory’s shoulder, Seth hauled himself up. He was white and shaking but he was on his feet. ‘We have to go,’ he
said.

‘You need some rest,’ said Rory, staring at him.

‘Rory, I need rest and I need a shave and I need to hear what’s happened to you. I need
Finn,’
he said a little desperately, and half to himself. ‘But you
can’t always get what you need.’

‘Do you ever listen to a single word your son says?’

For a second, Rory thought she was going to punch his father right in the face. Then Hannah’s fist unclenched, and she seized Seth’s shoulder and shoved him back to the ground.

‘He said. You need. A rest. Now shut your overworked gob. Nursey’s orders.’

‘Gods’ sake,’ grumbled Seth. ‘We’re working against time here.’

‘And a fine lot of use you’d be to anyone in your state.’ I tucked my lighter back into my jeans pocket and poked more chocolate wrappers into the pile of sticks. The fire
roared up; I never knew I was such a girl scout. ‘You start charging around like a maniac, your belly’ll open right back up.’

‘And how do you know?’

‘Stupid question.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘How would I know how I know?’

‘And
why
have you got a lighter?’

‘Another stupid question. I’ve given up anyway. You’re not well off for corner shops in fairyland. Oh for Christ’s sake, get closer to the fire. You’re
freezing.
’

‘Rory, is she this bossy all the time?’

‘Oh, yeah. Get used to it. And I’m on her side. I haven’t forgiven you for nearly getting yourself killed. Deliberately.’

‘Well,’ said Seth huffily, ‘I wasn’t about to let him murder Hannah. If there was an afterlife, my brother wouldn’t let me live to enjoy it.’

My guts twisted with guilt, so ‘We can move on,’ I said sweetly, ‘when you start talking sense.’

‘Oh, you’re welcome. Don’t mention it.
Ow.
’

‘Well, sit still! I don’t know how you expect me to fix you when you keep fidgeting.’ I shut one eye and chewed my lip as I tried to re-fix his slashed face. I’d already
had to open it up again twice.

‘I’m
bored
and my clann need me and I want to
get going
.’

‘Your clann would rather have you breathing. You big kid.’

Really, he was still on a high. The pair of them were. Rory hadn’t stopped grinning since he’d heard Finn was still alive. Nothing to do with the fact that Eili wasn’t, or so I
tried to tell myself.

The big smirk was still on his face when he said, ‘Something I’ve got to say to you, Dad.’

‘Look, I’m sorry. Those things I said. I didn’t–’

‘Sod that. I didn’t believe a word of it.’

‘I wasn’t sure. I mean, if we still had any kind of a connection–’

Rory crumpled another piece of paper and dropped it onto the fire, and when he looked up I realised for the first time that his smile was taut and hard and lethally cruel.
Smile of a soul
that doesn’t care any more
, I thought out of nowhere, and I clamped my hand over my mouth.

Rory cocked his head and smiled at me. Just for a moment, he reminded me of Eili, and I’d rather have seen him weep.

‘Kate’s cut us,’ he told me. ‘She’s split us. I can’t See him and he can’t See me. Which brings me to what I was going to say.’