by N. P. Martin
"I guess we both are. You can make it up to me later anyway," I said with a smile. "Or right now, whatever you prefer. I’m easy."
A smile appeared on her own face as she shook her head at me. "Funny."
"Who said I was being funny? I’m deadly serious."
"Well, maybe later you can show me how deadly serious you actually are, but in the meantime, can we get back to talking about the matter at hand?"
"Fire away," I said with a small hand gesture.
She shook her head, but continued on. "So anyway, I found the remains of several people in the orchard, all of them human it seemed. I’ve no doubt there are many more bodies buried there, which explains why Iolas never sold the house."
"Do you think he was involved in this cult as well?"
Amelia shrugged. "I don’t know, maybe. I would have to ask him."
"Have you seen him since he’s been locked up?"
"No, but I plan on going to see him soon."
"If he’ll even talk to you."
"We’ll see."
"So what about our friend in the dungeon? What’s his connection to all of this?"
"As far as I know, he’s the only one in this country who provides the service that he does. I figured the cult my parents were in had to get their sacrificial victims from somewhere, so I did some digging, which is how I found out about him, or at least his company, if you want to call it that. It’s a family business, you see, started by his grandfather years ago."
"Has he said anything yet?"
She shook her head. "No, he hasn’t. I didn’t expect him to either. I’m still deciding whether to bribe him or beat it out of him."
"Bribe him with what?"
"Money, of course."
"I would’ve thought these guys were all about the confidentiality," I said. "If they go blabbing about their clients, they wouldn’t stay in business for very long."
"Then I’ll beat it out of him instead."
"You could just threaten him with the Council."
"He’s human, the Council wouldn’t be interested. They’d say call the cops."
"So threaten him with the cops then."
She shook her head. "I don’t want the cops involved in my business. Plus, I kidnapped the guy."
"There’s that, yeah."
"Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to get through to him."
I gave her a look. "I’m sure you will. You’re a Tasar after all."
"What the hell does that mean?"
I shook my head slightly. "I just mean you seem to be getting comfortable with this whole gangster thing. The fact that you’re sitting in your uncle’s old chair says it all."
"Get off your high horse, Corvin," she said. "I’m just doing what has to be done."
"Fair enough," I said nodding. "I’m not in any position to lecture anyone about right and wrong anyway, the shit I’ve done lately."
"Life is messy. We do what we have to."
A short silence descended before I asked, "So you haven’t exactly told me why I’m here. I thought you wanted me for something."
"I do," she said, standing up and coming to sit on the edge of the desk next to me, her scent intoxicating, causing a stirring in my loins. "When I was at the house in Kilkenny, I didn’t really get a chance to look around much. There could be other clues there, or even people in the surrounding area worth talking to."
"So you want me to go down there and do some investigating," I said.
She nodded. "If you don’t mind. I have to look after things here."
"Consider it done. One question, though."
"What?"
"Let’s say you find out who this cult is. What are you going to do then?"
Amelia stared at me a moment, a kind of hunger in her eyes now. Then she got off the desk and leaned her hands on the arms of my chair, her face close to mine. "I’m going to take them all down," she said, her husky voice sending chills through me. "After I go down on you…"
A smile crossed my face, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of what she was doing, or because I knew I was about to get involved in something that would inevitably lead to more violence and bloodshed.
Whatever the reason, the smile never left my face.
Chapter 3
After telling Amelia I would keep her informed when I got to Kilkenny, I was about to leave her study when Simoa walked in, her blindingly white clothes making her stand out against the dark backgrounds of the room. She paused in the doorway to stare at me a moment, perhaps noticing the satisfied smile on my face as she did, and the implications of said smile. "I hope I’m not disturbing anything," she said.
"Not at all," I said, moving toward the door. "I was just about to leave."
Simoa seemed happy at this as she stood aside to let me pass. "Goodbye, Corvin," she said in that weird way of hers.
I nodded at her. "It was nice meeting you, Simoa," I said, perhaps with a touch too much sarcasm.
Her face hardened as she tried to contain her annoyance. "Yes, you too."
"Call me," Amelia said to me, as if sensing the animosity between Simoa and I.
I nodded at her and then left, feeling Simoa’s eyes on me as I did.
Despite the grimness of the investigation which lay ahead, I came away from the Tasar mansion feeling glad that I had another mission of sorts to sink my teeth into, although I hoped I wouldn’t be sinking my teeth into any people this time like I did in Belfast. I swear that the sensation of biting flesh and drinking blood will never leave me, and neither will the feeling of pleasure I felt at doing it, which was now accompanied by guilt, of course.
Something I would have to learn to live with, I suppose.
When I got back to the bookshop, I was surprised to find it empty when I walked in, with no sign of Margaret anywhere. At first I thought she might be using the bathroom at the back of the shop, but when I called her name there was no answer. Then I thought she must’ve popped out for something, but Margaret would never do that without locking the shop up first. So where was she?
"What the hell?" I said, and then spotted what looked like a note left on the desk, in between two stars of books. Frowning, I picked the note up to read it, just as a sinking feeling came into my stomach. The note said:
I want back what you stole from me. Bring the items to my house and you can have the witch back. You have until end of day.
I didn’t have to think very hard about who wrote the note. There was only one person I had stolen from recently, and that was the werewolf, Edward Delaney. I shook my head as I thought back to that night Dalia and I broke into his house, remembering what Delaney had shouted after us. "I have your scent!" he had shouted.
"Son of a bitch…" I said, crumpling the note up and tossing it back on the desk.
I stood for a minute before taking my phone out of jacket and calling Dalia.
"I’m in the middle of doing an autopsy on a goblin," she said upon answering. "What’s up?"
Despite the situation, I couldn’t help but smile. "You sound like you’re having fun."
"I’m up to my elbows in guts. Of course I’m having fun."
"Everything’s okay then?"
"Yes, why? Did something happen?"
I shook my head. "No, I just felt like saying hello, that’s all."
Dalia went silent for a moment. "I can tell by the sound of your voice that something is up, Corvin. What is it?"
"Nothing," I said. "Nothing I can’t handle anyway. I’ll let you get back to work."
"Wait, seriously, what’s wrong? Do you need my help with something?"
"No, I’ll call you if I do."
"You’re sure? I can get Davey to take over here."
"Davey is busy," Davey shouted in the background.
"Tell him I said hello," I said.
"Corvin says hello, and to stop looking over my shoulder every two minutes as he knows how highly annoying that can be."
"Oh, well," Davey said. "Tell Corvin he isn’t qualifie
d to criticize my teaching methods."
I smiled and shook my head. "It sounds like you two are having fun."
"Yeah, when he’s not being a grump," Dalia said, loud enough for Davey to hear.
"You say grump, I say focused," he retorted.
"Focused on being a grump you mean."
"Focused on helping you learn, Missy. Now get off the phone. You’re on my time now."
"I think I’ll let you get back to it," I said.
Dalia laughed slightly to herself. She sounded calm and relaxed, good-humored even, and I was glad. "All right, no problem. I’m here if you need my help with anything."
"I know," I said. "I appreciate it."
"I just wish someone else would appreciate my help as well," she said, obviously directing her comment at Davey.
In the background, Davey shouted, "Get off the phone!"
Dalia laughed. "Gotta go. Talk later."
Hanging up the phone, I went and sat behind the desk for a few minutes as I considered everything. Delaney was holding Margaret hostage at his house, and even though I wasn’t sure if he would hurt her or not, I wasn’t about to take that chance. I would give him back the gold medallion I took from him, but as for the ankh, I knew there would be no hope of getting that back from Hacknet. For a start, he had probably sold it already, but even if he still had it, there was no way he was going to hand it back over to me. At least, I didn’t think so. Perhaps we could work out some sort of deal, I thought, though I was doubtful.
Still, Margaret’s life was on the line, so I had to try.
"I’m sorry to hear about your situation, but I don’t have the ankh anymore. I sold it the day after you gave me it, to a buyer in Norway."
I stared at Hacknet as he stood behinds desk. Despite his words, he sounded like he didn’t give a shit about my situation. It would’ve been easy to grab him and take my frustrations out on him, but that wouldn’t bring me any closer to rescuing Margaret. "Maybe there’s something else I can give him," I said, grasping at straws. "Something you have lying around here."
Hacknet shook his head. "There’s nothing here that will replace that ankh. You’re going to have to think of something else."
"Like what?"
"You’re a smart lad, Corvin. I’m sure you’ll think of something."
"Thanks for nothing, Hacknet."
Outside as I sat in the car, I realized I was now being forced to play this nightmare situation by ear. As I didn’t have the ankh to give back, I was left with two options that I could see. The first was to go to Delaney’s house with all guns blazing and try to get Margaret out of there without either of us getting hurt, which was unlikely to happen. Even if it did happen, Delaney would still come after us, if not immediately, then at some point down the line. I could try to sneak into the house, find Margaret and sneak her out again, but I doubted that plan would work either. Once again, Delaney would come after us, or at least me.
The final option was the only viable one as far as I could see, which was to confront Delaney head on. Not violently, but peacefully, and at least try to work something with out with him before violence had to rear its ugly head again. Which I hoped wouldn’t happen, since Margaret would be at risk then too, not just me, and I didn’t think I could take another death on my conscience. I would just have to hope that Delaney would see sense. He had every right to be pissed off, of course, but was the ankh worth killing or dying over? I’d just have to wait and see.
Starting the car, I headed for Dalkey.
Chapter 4
Night had just begun to fall as I parked the Spitfire outside Delaney’s massive castellated house. In the sky, the crescent moon was already out, and the first of the stars were beginning to dimly glow. A cold wind was blowing off the sea behind the houses, and I zipped up my leather jacket to guard against it, also feeling like I was getting ready for battle as I did so. If it came to it, I wondered, would I kill Delaney?
It was a thought that made me feel the cold even more as I headed toward the front gate of the house and stood looking up at the small camera above me. A moment later, the electronic gates buzzed open and I went through them, the gates closing behind me a second later, as if Delaney was letting me know that he was in charge here, and that he now had me where he wanted me.
Walking down the garden path, I half expected Delaney to jump out at me from somewhere in his wolf form, but I made it to the front door unmolested, which unnerved me more. Once again, I wondered if I was ready to kill Delaney if need be. As I waited by the front door, I considered that experience of late had taught me one thing:
That when it came to it, I would always do whatever I had to do.
Delaney soon opened the front door, poking his gray head around it to look past me, as if checking that I was alone. Then he opened the door fully and stood in the entrance, as tall and lean as I remembered him, though not as hairy, as the wolf in him hadn’t made an appearance yet, making me wonder how long it would take before it did.
"I hope you’ve brought my property back," Delaney said, his blue eyes steady and piercing, his grizzled cheeks sucked in as he scowled at me.
"I hope Margaret is all right," I said.
"That depends on you, Mr. Chance. Did you bring what you stole from me or not?"
Unzipping my jacket slightly, I went to reach inside, but soon froze when Delaney produced a small gun from behind his back. "Relax," I said. "I’m just getting the medallion."
Delaney’s face remained stern. "No funny business," he said. "I won’t hesitate to shoot you."
I stared at him a moment longer, having no doubt the crazy old fool would follow through on his threat. Slowly, I took the medallion out of my jacket and then passed it to him. Pointing the gun at me, he used his other hand to take the medallion, quickly examining it before sliding it into the pocket of his gray cardigan. "And the ankh?"
"First you let Margaret go," I said.
Delaney stared at me for a long time, his eyes searching mine for signs of treachery no doubt. I held his stare, hopefully giving nothing away. I’m not the best poker player, but I can bluff when I have to.
"Come inside," Delaney said eventually, standing aside, the gun still pointing at me.
I stepped through the front door and into the large entrance hallway, my boots squeaking slightly on the checkered floor as I stood just in front of Delaney. His eyes never leaving me, he closed the door, making me feel like I was now trapped in his lair.
"Where is she?" I asked him. "You better not have hurt her."
"Well, if I have, it would be your fault, wouldn’t it?"
I thought about trying to disarm him of the gun using magic, but decided not to take the risk. I had to play it cool, at least until Margaret was safely out of the way. "Just go and get her."
"Don’t go anywhere," he said as he began to back away toward an entrance at the far side of the hallway.
I said nothing and shook my head at him slightly. Where did he expect me to go?
He disappeared down the narrow hallway and emerged a few minutes later with Margaret. She was walking in front of him as he pointed the gun at her back. I could hardly look at her as she came toward me. "Are you okay, Margaret?" I asked her.
She stared at me a moment, and then nodded, her long silver hair looking a little messed up, as if she had tussled with Delaney at some point. "I’m fine, no thanks to you, Corvin. This man says you stole from him. Is that true?"
"I had my reasons," I said, knowing she wouldn’t care what they were. Margaret was a morally upstanding person, and in her eyes, my actions and their consequences were wrong, which was fair enough I suppose. I couldn’t expect her to understand why I did what I did.
"Just give the man his property back so I can go home to my husband," she said, sounding tired and distressed by the whole ordeal.
"I will," I said. "Once he lets you go."
Delaney, standing to the right of us as he still held the gun, shook his head. "I don’t think so,
" he said. "Give me the ankh and then you can both go."
"You’re just going to let me go?" I said.
"I’ve thought about killing you, Mr. Chance, and maybe at one time I would have. These days, I don’t need the hassle." He put his hand out. "Now hand it over please."
I sighed slightly as I looked at him for a moment. "Can we talk…in private?"
It was his turn to sigh, though more forcefully. "You don’t have it, do you?"
"I’d prefer it if we could—"
"Shut up! Where is it?"
I glanced at Margaret, who was staring just as hard at me as Delaney was. "It was sold," I said eventually. "I can’t get it back."
The muscles around Delaney’s eyes began to twitch as he glared at me. "This simply won’t do," he said, his voice strained like he was trying to hold himself back from attacking me. "That ankh was worth a fortune, it was one of a kind."
I took a step toward him. "I’m sure we can—"
"Stop!" He had the gun pointing at my head now. "I should shoot you right now you thieving piece of shit!"
"Please," Margaret said, sounding a bit afraid now. "No violence."
My hands were raised as I stood staring at Delaney, calculating the odds of me disarming him without getting shot. If he was closer, maybe, but he was too far away. Even magic would be risky, but if he didn’t calm down, I would be left with no choice.
Except Margaret beat me to it by casting her own magic at him, suddenly shouting two words in Latin, her hands pushing out as if she was trying to throw energy at Delaney. But nothing happened. Whatever spell Margaret had used, it had no effect. Delaney merely took another few steps back as he smiled and showed us an amulet of some sort that was hanging around his neck. "It’s amazing the artifacts to be found in the world," he said. "Artifacts such as this one, specifically crafted to block magical attacks. You’d be surprised how often hedge witches like you two try it on with me. I meet all sorts on my travels, which is why neither of you will pull the wool over my eyes."
