by Helen Harper
Corrigan Lust
Book Five of the Corrigan series
By
Helen Harper
Copyright© 2015
All Rights Reserved
Helen Harper
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Gifted Thief – Exclusive sneak peek!
About the Author
Other titles by Helen Harper
Chapter One
It was a dick move. I knew it was a dick move but I couldn’t help myself. Frankly, it was either this or go and get myself so blindingly drunk that it’d take my liver half a generation to heal.
All the same, it was a dick move.
I’d whirled out of Alcazon after being publicly dumped by Mack. Traitorous bitch. Staines had been shouting after me and I knew that both Tom and Lucy were worried. It was my job as Lord Alpha to reassure them all, to gather the Brethren together and tell them that we would do whatever was necessary to bring down Endor, the freakish necromancer who was responsible for the near genocide of the dryads. It was my job to contact all the rural Packs and make sure they were on the lookout and it was my job to project calm authority and strong leadership. I didn’t do any of that, however. I just strode away from the popular Otherworld restaurant with disbelief buzzing through my veins and a burning ache buried deep in my chest. At least all three of them were too sensible to come after me. If they had, I may well have ripped their heads off. I needed to be alone.
I’d had neither a plan nor a destination in mind. The few passersby still out on a sleepy Sunday at this hour took one look at my face and gave me a wide berth. I just kept on, my back ramrod straight and my jaw set so hard it was becoming painful. I wasn’t really thinking straight. I wasn’t really thinking at all. I must have traversed three miles of the city in the same fashion before the high-pitched scream broke through my vicious swirl of emotions. Truth be told, I was so focused on myself that it took a moment to register.
Initially, I assumed that it was a standard mugging. It would have been a piece of cake to run down any human bag snatchers but I certainly would have enjoyed showing them the error of their ways. It was only when I rounded the corner and realised that the scream had come from an old cemetery, incongruously situated between a primary school and a boutique coffee shop, it occurred to me that I might have inadvertently stumbled across something more serious.
Vaulting over the tall iron fence, and landing between two ancient grave stones, I scanned the area. Many of London’s graveyards were surprisingly pleasant places to visit, steeped in history and offering a quiet respite from the bustle of the city streets. They also often contained the graves of famous people, encouraging all manner of macabre pilgrimages. This particular cemetery, however, seemed rather nondescript and with little to recommend it. It was fairly well kept, with neatly mown grass and a lack of litter, but that didn’t mean much. I couldn’t fathom for the life of me why anyone would want to visit this place. It certainly wouldn’t be to visit any relatives. The newest grave that I could see was at least a century old.
When the scream came again, my gaze narrowed in on the far corner. There was a small shed, no doubt used by the cemetery’s caretaker, which was obscuring my vision. The sound was definitely coming from behind it. I cricked my neck, first one way then the other. Then I launched myself towards it.
It was a kid. A young boy of around seven or eight with dimpled cheeks, a cheeky t-shirt, and terror in his eyes. Considering what he was up against, that last part was hardly surprising. The beast facing him would have caused even Mack to pause.
‘Help me!’ he shrieked.
I smiled. ‘It’s your lucky day, kid. I’m one of the few people in this country who actually can do just that.’
A flicker of confusion crossed his face but there wasn’t time for anything else. The creature lashed its huge head out towards him, jaws snapping. I lunged forward and grabbed him by the waist, tossing him behind me for safety.
‘Hello,’ I cooed. ‘If I’m not mistaken you’re a Scitalis.’
The gigantic serpent hissed, its forked tongue flashing out towards me in a show of aggression.
‘You’re not welcome here,’ I told it, in no uncertain terms. ‘This is my fucking city and no snakes or necromancers or damned dragons are going to take it from me.’
It obviously wasn’t much of one for talking. With surprising fluidity and speed, it launched itself at me. I snapped out a punch, managing to land it directly onto its nose. It didn’t like that one bit, using its tail to attack back. I danced away, causing it to hiss even louder in annoyance.
It was actually a remarkably beautiful creature. The scales along its back were a myriad of shimmering colours, each one catching the fading light and glinting. Unfortunately they were what almost proved my undoing. As the Scitalis changed direction, the scales flecked with yellow gold – like Mack’s eyes, damn her – refracted the light, momentarily blinding me. It was for less than a second but that was all the creature needed. With one heavy swoop its tail lashed out again, this time going not for a blow but for capture. Almost before I knew what had happened, it had coiled its cold length around me and started to squeeze. The boy choked out another scream.
‘Don’t worry,’ I muttered.
As its head loomed towards me once more, I exploded, shifting into my werepanther form. The Scitalis was so surprised that it dropped me. I rolled, springing back up to all four paws and baring my teeth. That’s right sucker. You’ve picked a fight with the wrong person.
I leapt at it, latching onto its thick neck. The scales weren’t only beautiful, they were hard and armour-like and it was difficult to gain purchase. I wiggled slightly, finding a tiny chink where my teeth could pierce through. Now it was someone else’s turn to feel pain.
Hot blood spurted out, landing on my fur as well as coating the ground beneath us. There was so much of it that I knew I’d inadvertently hit a major artery. The Scitalis writhed underneath me but I wasn’t going to let go. I’d needed some way to vent my anger and this was just about perfect. I dug in with more and more ferocity, using my claws to avoid the thing from throwing me off. Bit by bit, it began to weaken. I didn’t release my hold until I was absolutely sure, however. When it slumped down and the blood pulsating into my mouth and causing me to gag slowed to a trickle, I finally relaxed. I moved away and stared at it without a single trace of pity. Then I turned back to the kid.
I hadn’t thought it would be possible for him to look any more terrified, but he did. He’d backed himself away until the shed was pressed against his small frame. He’d clamped a hand over his mouth and was staring at me as if I was about to chomp on him too. I spat, getting rid of as much of the Scitalis’s blood from my mouth as I could and lay down, trying to indicate that I meant him no harm. I would have shifted back so I could actually speak but that would probably have caused more problems than it would have solved. My clothes had disintegrated with the force of my shift and it’s never a particularly good idea for a grown man – and a stranger at that – to expose his naked body to a child, regardless of the circumstances.
He dropped his hands, wrapped his arms around h
imself and his teeth began to chatter. I rolled onto my back, presenting my belly to him. It was an act of submission that would have had the members of the Brethren howling at me, in both laughter and shock. I was the damned Lord Alpha, the leader of every shapeshifter in Britain. I didn’t submit to anyone.
We were, however, alone and, even without being able to see his expression, I could feel the moment his posture changed and he began to relax. Children, even human children, are often far easier to deal with than their adult counterparts. They’ve not yet learnt all the rules and that makes it easier for them to adapt to abruptly changing circumstances. Even circumstances that involve gigantic snakes, spooky graveyards and black panthers. I’d get one of the Ministry mages to alter his memory later. Frankly it would be the least the Arch-Mage could do for me. Right now, however, it was enough that his fear was beginning to subside.
He inched over to me and dropped down to his knees. A tentative hand reached out. I held my breath and tried not to wince as he ran it along my stomach. He obviously didn’t own any cats; if he did he would know that we never like having our bellies rubbed.
‘Thank you,’ he whispered.
I purred in response.
He drew in a breath. ‘Can you save my sister too?’
Oh shit. I flipped round onto my paws but kept my body low to avoid alarming him too much. He looked into my eyes, responding to the intelligence I can only assume he saw there. I cocked my head inquiringly and he lifted a shaky hand over to my left.
I followed his finger. There, only barely visibly in the high branches of an ancient oak tree, was a portal, its purple shimmers obvious. So that was how the Scitalis had gotten here. Our demesne didn’t tend to look too kindly on such species and they certainly weren’t native.
The kid swallowed. ‘There was another one,’ he said. ‘It took her up there and they both disappeared. She’s only six. She…’ His voice broke. ‘I’m supposed to look after her. My mum will kill me.’
Great. Just great. Almost one of the first rules anyone ever learns about the Otherworld is to not go venturing into strange portals. If you don’t know where it leads, then you should never go through without lots and lots of back up. Let’s face it, just about anything could be waiting on the other side. In normal circumstances, I would use my Voice and call in the cavalry. I’d get some mages to join us and maybe, just maybe, I would even try to get in touch with a Fae like Solus to help out. As annoying as the faeries were, they did tend to be experts in matters of other planes of existence.
These weren’t normal circumstances though. The logic part of my brain had been left behind in that private room at Alcazon and I was damned if I was going to ask anyone for help. I’d gotten rid of one Scitalis already. How hard would it be to get rid of another one?
I padded forward and nudged the boy’s hand with my head. He scratched my ears.
‘Please?’ he whispered.
He was a smart kid; I’d give him that. He knew I wasn’t just a large pussy cat who’d wandered in off the street. I nodded once and turned, leaping up the tree trunk until I was nose to nose with the portal. I flicked my head round and gave him one last look. He was so very small. Then I launched myself inside the portal, ready to face whatever was going to come my way.
Like I said, a dick move.
Chapter Two
I tended to keep my paws firmly rooted in my own demesne. After all, I had enough to deal with there without going off to seek out more trouble. It meant that my experience with leaping into unknown portals was somewhat limited. In fact, the last time I’d done it, it had been to rescue Mack. For a fleeting moment, I wondered what would have happened if I’d just left her there, in the clutches of Iabartu, the demi-goddess who’d been desperate for her magical blood. Further pain wrenched at me at that idea, however. I guessed I didn’t hate the spiky redhead as much as I wanted to although I had no desire to examine my feelings too much in that direction at all. It was just as well I had this distraction.
Still, my lack of experience meant that my expectations were nil. I was prepared for just about whatever was going to come my way. When my vision cleared, the tug on my body subsided and I looked around, I was still rather surprised, however. Of all the places I expected a creature like a Scitalis to hang out in, it wasn’t a ruined cityscape like this one.
I was surrounded by towering buildings. These weren’t the gleaming skyscrapers or well designed office blocks of somewhere like London, however. They were more like you’d imagine in the aftermath of a nuclear explosion. Say about a hundred years after it, in fact. If there ever had been glass in any of the windows, it was long since gone. Dark cracks laced the stone work, stretching up for as high as could be seen. The gaps where the windows would once have been were even darker. I felt a shiver run down my spine. I was good in cities. I’d lived most of my life in London, after all. This place, however, gave me the creeps.
The road in front stretched out seemingly for miles. Large weeds were pushing their way up through the concrete and there were even more snaking cracks. There didn’t appear to be any roads leading away in other directions at least - just the long main one lined by the dilapidated and dying buildings. It narrowed down my choices about where to look for the girl. I tilted up my head and sniffed, catching just the faintest scent of strawberry. It tickled my nose. Considering it was remarkably unlikely that the other Scitalis – or any other Otherworld creatures who might be lurking here for that matter - enjoyed bathing with scented shampoo, then I’d probably already found my target. This was going to be a piece of a cake. I entertained myself for a brief moment with visions of emerging back from the portal and into London with a little girl in my arms and her family weeping thankfully at her safe return. Mack would be there too, realising that someone who has the ability to rescue small children in a single bound was not someone she should toss aside. She’d run towards me, her hair flying out behind her. She’d fling herself to her knees, begging me for forgiveness. I’d consider it. Then I’d tell her to piss off.
I grimaced. Yeah, right.
Forcing her out of my head, I padded forwards, following the scented trail of strawberry. I estimated that the Scitalis probably had less than fifteen minutes on me. It wouldn’t be in any particular rush either so it shouldn’t take me long to catch up to it. I picked up speed, trotting down the long road and avoiding some of the larger cracks. Other than the twisting weeds, there wasn’t any further sign of life. The deeper I ventured, however, the more the wind seemed to increase. By the time the trail told me I was close to the lair of the Scitalis, it was ruffling my fur with considerable force. The buildings on either side had created some kind of wind tunnel, making what may have only been a slight breeze out on an open plain into something far stronger. It was also damn noisy. With the wind’s whistling and screeching, even my enhanced hearing couldn’t pick up any other sounds.
I was just past two large and blackened towers when the smell of strawberry begin to fade away ever so slightly. Just to be sure, I kept going for several metres more but, when it continued to dissipate away, I twisted back and paused. The trail definitely veered off into the tower on the right.
Stretching up my head to get the best view, I examined the building. It didn’t look particularly different to any of the others. It was as dark and silent as all the rest and, no matter how carefully I scanned the yawning black holes of the windows, there wasn’t so much as a flicker of movement from within. Still, my nose convinced me that this was the place. I’d just have to hope that the Scitalis had chosen to keep the kid for later, rather than munching on her straightaway. Either way, I was ready for more action.
If there had ever been a real front door, it was long gone. All that remained was yet another dark gap. Tendrils of weeds snaked around it. As silently as I could manage, I moved over and sniffed once more. The strawberry was there but there was an underlying hint of something else. Sour milk perhaps. My nose twitched. It wasn’t pleasant, whatever it wa
s.
Taking one last look behind me, in case I was being followed, I plunged inside. The air was both damp and gloomy and it didn’t take long for the meager light leaking in from outside to all but disappear. I was a cat, however. Darkness only made my vision more keen.
The walls were all a dull grey concrete. There wasn’t a lick of paint or decoration anywhere. I guessed the Scitalis wasn’t particularly house proud. I glanced into each room as I passed but they were all as empty and abandoned as everywhere else. It was only when I reached a stone staircase, with steps leading both up and down that I knew I was getting close to pay-dirt.
Jerking my head from side to side, I ascertained that the girl was down rather than up. It figured. Where else would a nasty child-snatching snake be but down in the depths of a dank basement? I wasted no further time and immediately began slinking my way down, keeping my ears pricked and alert.
I’d descended about three flights when I first started to hear it. It wasn’t a loud noise, more like water rolling slowly along an indolent river. Perhaps it was some kind of underground stream, linking the buildings together in the same manner that the road did. I hadn’t realised that creatures like Scitalis enjoyed water, however. I puzzled over it as I continued downward. It was only when I rounded the last corner that I realised what it actually was. And it certainly wasn’t water.
The floor in front of me was undulating in strange waves. Every so often I caught a glimpse of glinting scales. They weren’t from one Scitalis, however. They were from hundreds. Somehow I’d stumbled across an entire nest of the damn things. Most seemed to be babies. Find mummy and I’d find the kid.
I had little desire to pick my way across the floor of hissing baby Scitilae. They might be young but they still possessed remarkably sharp fangs, a fact that was highlighted when a cluster of them abruptly broke into a fight. They writhed against each other with remarkable ferocity, snapping their teeth and attacking. I watched as the weakest one, clearly thinner than its siblings, tried to slide away. It was too late though. One of the others latched onto its tail. Another took hold of its head. In some bizarre tussle that caused my stomach to curdle, they pulled it apart, spraying blood in all directions. Other heads poked up, their tongues darting out to catch the fragments of ripped flesh that flew through the air. These creatures might be babies but they were also vicious little bastards. For the first time, I wondered whether I was doing the right thing by coming here alone. If Mack could bulldoze her way through life without ever pausing to ask anyone else for help, however, so could I.
