by Steve McHugh
Thomas walked toward us, the retrieved Jian in hand. He positioned himself next to the werewolf and placed the edge of the blade against its throat. "Wait," I said. "I have one last question. Where's the girl?"
"If I answer, will you let me go?"
I shook my head. "You will die here, today. The only question is how. Thomas there is a good man. Your death will be quick and painless." The werewolf looked up at the rage-filled Englishman. I motioned for Thomas to walk off as I made my way to the crippled werewolf. "I am not a good man," I whispered into his ear when we were alone. "I will strip the flesh from your bones and scatter your ashes to the wind. I will ensure that for the next thousand years, the merest mention of what I did to you in this city will evoke fear into anyone foolish enough to think they can cross a sorcerer."
Droplets of blood falling from the werewolf onto the wet ground broke the silence. "South," he said eventually. "They went south. Her name is Ivy, that's what they called her. She's sixteen, olive skin, dark hair. And I have no idea what they want with her."
"Neck or heart," I said to Thomas as I walked past the wolf.
"One last thing," the wolf called out to me.
Thomas placed the sword blade against the wolf's throat once more. I turned to see what he wanted. "These English weren't sent here by their king. Avalon sent them. Avalon sent humans to die for their sins." His deep laughter made me wish I'd had more time to question him. Thomas sliced the Jian through the werewolf's neck, soaking himself in the contents of the beast's jugular.
Thomas washed the sword in the fountain and dried it before passing it, re-sheathed, to me. "What do we do now?" he asked.
"We find those who kept the girl prisoner. And then we wipe them from the face of the Earth."
Chapter 6
London, England, Now
Long ago, Holly's building used to be a massive house, but it was divided into two, both owned by her father. He left the downstairs one unoccupied, allowing Holly to use it for storage of all of her accumulated junk, leaving her flat nice and tidy.
I threw my jacket and rucksack onto her sofa. The main room of her home consisted of an all in one kitchen and living room. It was spacious enough to accommodate two sofas, a pale wooden coffee table between them, and a large screen TV, along with a long dining table. Not once had I ever seen anyone sit at the almost gothic piece of furniture. The dark wood and curved ends were in stark contrast to Holly's personality.
"Where did you learn to fight like that?" Holly asked as she walked off to the kitchen.
"I don't know," I said. Holly returned and handed me a cold glass of juice before sitting on the sofa. "You okay?"
She touched the side of her face and winced. "It's sore, but I'll heal. You did a lot worse to Lee. You could have killed him."
I raised an eyebrow at the tone of her voice. She sounded almost pleased about how much Lee had been hurt.
At my reaction Holly immediately said, "I don't want him dead. Just... gone." She shook her head, a sad expression on her face. "Did I ever tell you why I hate him so much?"
"Not really, no."
Holly placed the can of coke she'd been drinking on a coaster next to her. "He enjoys hurting people. Did you know he gets involved in extra fights? Ones Dad knows nothing about. Lee seriously hurt a few people because he won't accept leaving your opponent standing as a win."
"That does make him nuts. But why do you hate him?"
"He used to be such a good kid," Holly spoke with genuine affection, which seemed to make her hatred for Lee all the more difficult for her. "When we were little, we used to play together. We were really close. Then, when Lee was nine, he got sick. Really, really sick. The doctors thought he was going to die." Holly paused for a moment, her eyes moist. "He got better, but something was wrong. He was different. Mean and nasty to people.
"When I was fifteen and Lee was almost fourteen, I had a boyfriend. A nice guy by the name of John. He was a few years older than I was, and Mum and Dad didn't approve. They wanted me to end it, and I refused. John and I saw each other in secret for a few weeks.
"Somehow, Lee discovered what we were doing. He didn't like the idea of someone getting one over on any member of 'his family' so he went after John and beat the shit out of him with a metal bar. Utterly destroyed his face. When Dad found out he went mental on Lee, told him there was no need to have done that. Dad had to buy John off and make the police investigation go away. But after all of it, Lee just shrugged and said, ‘maybe I'd think twice about who I dated’."
"He did this because you refused to break up with John?"
Holly shook her head. "He did it because in his twisted head, we should have asked for his permission to start dating. Lee mentioned it several times as I was dating John. What Lee did was his way of showing me what happens when I don't follow his rules. That was the moment I knew my little brother was gone for good, replaced with the utter psychopath you know today."
"You're worried a little power will go to his head?"
Holly nodded. "I'm worried he'll start taking things into his own hands. And if he does that, a lot of people are going to get hurt."
"Do you think Lee will seek revenge for what I did?" I asked.
"Even if it means waiting for years, he'll want to. I'd watch your back. He won't forget what you did to him, and he'll take the humiliation of losing as a personal insult. But he won't tell anyone what happened. He wouldn't allow his pride to take that dent."
I sat in silence for a moment, mulling over what it would mean if Lee really did start to have more power within his family's business. And no matter what scenario I thought of, it never ended well for a lot of people, me included.
I forced the negative thoughts away and suddenly remembered the money in my backpack. I took out five thousand pounds and placed it on the coffee table. "This is yours."
Holly's sour expression lightened as a smile forced its way through. "Thank you, this is my favourite part of the job. A bit of shopping should put my family out of mind for a while."
"You need to relax a bit more, Holly," I said with a smile.
She laughed and walked off down the only corridor in the flat toward her bedroom. I gave her a few minutes and finished my drink before following her. The bedroom door was open and Holly stood inside wearing just a black thong and bra. She unhooked her bra and allowed it to fall to the floor, exposing her large, firm breasts. She smiled seductively and climbed onto the queen-sized bed, lying back on the many pillows that were in front of the wooden headboard. "So, you fancy relaxing, Mr. Garrett?"
I removed my t-shirt and dropped it in the doorway, stepping into the bedroom with a smile on my face.
*****
It was a few hours later when Holly and I finally fell asleep, exhausted and satisfied. You could never describe Holly as tender in bed- she's wild and energetic. By the time I woke, the sun had signed off for the day. Holly slept as I moved off the bed, stirring slightly when I grabbed my clothes from the floor. She soon returned to a deep sleep as I slipped out of the room.
I got dressed in the lounge as quickly and quietly as possible, but bumped into the coffee table, knocking over an empty glass. Air shot from my hands, cushioning the fall before it hit the ground. As I retrieved it from the floor, the six dark marks on my bare torso came to life. Each one swirled slowly in place.
Three of the marks sat high on my chest in a straight line, with two on my stomach, just below my ribcage. The last one was in the middle of my sternum, and each mark was the size of my closed fist. They only flare to life when I've used magic, so Holly had never seen them. I'd never told her what I was, but six black, constantly changing marks on my chest may have given her a clue that all wasn't normal. So I made sure not to use my magic when I was around her.
The body art was another puzzle to whoever I used to be. I hadn’t mentioned them to Francis either, although I couldn't say why. Something told me it was information I needed to keep to myself. Besides, they didn't
seem to have any adverse effects on me.
I pulled on my t-shirt and went to open the door. As my hand touched the door handle, Holly asked, "So am I ever going to wake up and find you next to me?"
I released my grip, made sure that the marks on my chest weren't visible through my t-shirt, and turned to face my good friend. "This isn't a conversation we should have when you're still naked," I said.
"You'll just have to keep your eyes off my tits for five minutes."
"You do realise I'm a man right? And that you have nice tits? Staring at nice tits is sort of a heterosexual male's hobby."
Holly sighed, darted back off and returned a second later wearing a large Wile E. Coyote t-shirt. It was baggy and old, and stretched down to her thighs, but she still looked stunning.
"Do you really want to talk about us?" I asked.
"I've never asked you for anything, other than that we have fun every now and again. When you're not around do you think I sit and pine for you? I live my life, and enjoy myself. I don't expect anything more from you. So, why do you feel the need to leave at the first opportunity?"
"It's easier," I said.
"Easier for whom? For me? Because as I've just said, I know full well what our relationship is. So it must be for you."
"I don't want what we have to become complicated. If I ever remember anything and it's bad, I don't want to take you down with me."
"So it's altruistic? That's bullshit. You just like people to think you don't need anyone else."
I shook my head. "That's not it."
"You going to tell me what it is, then?" she asked.
I shook my head again. How could I tell her that I wasn't even human? That I can control the elements? That somehow I know my past will catch up to me? And when that happens, I fear it's going to have repercussions for us all. "No. I'm sorry. I'll see you soon." And I left the apartment.
Chapter 7
Four weeks passed since Holly and I had our little chat. Our relationship had continued as if nothing had ever happened. I spent the time back in my flat in Winchester, doing as little as possible.
Winchester sits in the south of England. Hundreds of years ago it was the capital of the country. It was famous for, amongst other things, having a replica of King Arthur's round table in Winchester castle. Henry VIII had it made over four hundred and fifty years ago. Although it wasn’t King Arthur's actual table—if such a thing ever existed—it's still a very popular tourist attraction.
My penthouse flat is close to the city centre and overlooks a park and small river. I bought it a few years ago and keep it secret from just about everyone, except Holly and Francis. I considered it my solitude away from the world, and my attempt at creating something that doesn't involve criminal activities.
I'd been out for most of the morning, enjoying the crisp February weather—you have to take the dry days when you can, there aren't many of them early in the year. I walked through the park to get to my building, crossing over a small red-bricked bridge.
I swiped my building pass over the electronic lock at the front entrance and pulled the door open. The foyer was decorated with various green potted plants, all of which were placed on the blue and white tiled floor. Paintings adorn the blue walls, mostly watercolour landscapes. The only other things on the ground floor were the stairs, a door that led to the basement, and a lift. The latter of which, I avoided as much as possible. Running up five floors of stairs was a good way to get in a bit of exercise.
The journey up each flight proved to be utterly devoid of people until I reached the sixth floor, where a sixteen-year-old girl sat with her feet dangling between the wooden slats of the banister.
"You know that's dangerous," I said.
The girl shrugged.
I looked over the rail to the floor. It was a long way down. Fifty feet, easily. The wooden posts that the girl sat in front of stretched to the ceiling, and it would be impossible for her to get in between them further than she was. But if any of those wooden posts came loose, she'd have one hell of a fright.
"You look angry, Dani," I said as I sat next to her.
"He's back," she said and continued looking through the posts.
He was her mum's boyfriend, Phil, who from all accounts was a nasty piece of shit. And when a thief calls you a nasty piece of shit, you just know you're not a good person. "You've changed your hair again," I said, noticing the red colouring streaked through her normally dark hair. She had it tied back in two pigtails, one on either side of her head, behind each ear, and a ponytail at the back of her head.
She looked back at me with a mischievous smile on her face. "I fancied a change, and it made my mum go mad."
"How long you been out here?"
She shrugged again. "I need to get my homework done, but it's impossible when they're arguing."
"You want me to go get it? You can do it at my place." When I'd moved in, Dani and her mum had been living in the building for a few years. Her mum had won a few million on the lottery and bought one of the two penthouses in the building. For as long as I'd known the family, she'd argued with her ex-boyfriend once a month, every month. She'd left him long before I'd ever moved in, but he still came round regular as clockwork for money. Although my home was on the opposite side of the long hallway that separates the two penthouses, it didn’t make me immune to the fighting, which often spilled out into the hallway.
Dani was good kid, smart too. When she was thirteen, I'd found her crouched alone in the hallway, in a flood of tears. I'd sat with her and taught her how to play poker. She'd managed to win me out of three pounds worth of two's and five pence pieces by the time Phil had slinked past us and down the stairs.
"You sure you don't mind?" Dani asked.
"I wouldn't have asked if I minded." I walked to Dani's front door. "Any idea what they're arguing about?"
"The usual," she said sadly. "Money."
I knocked on their door, putting enough force into it to ensure that whoever was inside would hear no matter the decibel level they'd managed to create. There were raised voices, and a man cursed the interruption before the door finally opened. Dani's mum appeared, looking tired. She pulled down her sweater sleeves, covering a red mark on her arm. "You got Dani's homework?" I asked. "If it's okay, she can finish it at my place."
Dani's mum nodded, her blonde hair falling down across her face. "That's fine." She reached behind the door and brought out a green rucksack, decorated with so many stickers and drawings that the bag looked like a graffiti wall. I passed it over to Dani, who didn't make eye contact with her mum. "Thanks, Nate," Dani's mum said.
"Don't thank me," I whispered. "Sort out your shit so this doesn't happen again." I didn't wait for a response, just turned and escorted Dani to my door, and into my flat.
We walked down the main hallway, passing the study and dining room, until we came to the large, open-planned living room and kitchen. Dani walked over to the windows, which ran the length of the flat and opened the balcony doors. "We don't get to use the balcony in our place," she said. "Mum thinks we'll fall off or something."
"Homework," I said, as I walked into the kitchen. "Do you want a drink or something to eat?"
Dani stuck her tongue out in mock disobedience, but sat at the kitchen table all the same. She emptied the contents of her school bag onto the wooden surface with a loud bang. "A drink would be nice."
I removed a cold can of Coke from the fridge and took it over to Dani as she flipped open a school book. "Anything interesting?"
"Fractions," she said with a sigh. "I hate fractions."
"Everyone hates fractions. That's why they make you do them. It's character-building."
Dani smiled. "Did you do fractions at school?"
"Yeah." I had no idea if that was true, but I figured everyone did fractions. "I don't remember enjoying them."
I left her to work, grabbed a book that Holly had lent me and tried to get past the second chapter. It was about vampires and werewolves
and the love of a good woman. Apparently it had a lot of fans. I wasn't amongst them. About thirty pages in and I’d already come to the conclusion that it was shit, but I figured it could only get better.
I'd managed another twenty or so pages, with a solidifying belief that I'd been right all along, when Dani spoke. "You know, Phil seems to think he can act like my dad. Always bossing me about, telling me I'm useless."
It took a Herculean effort not to fling the book into the nearest bin as I looked up. "No, I didn't know that. So why does he come round all the time?"
"Money. My mum's a mug for giving it to him, but they always argue over how much and how often he comes round." Venom and anger coloured her voice.
"Does he hit you?"
"Phil wouldn't dare." She looked out the window to the park. "He's hit mum, one time so bad it broke her jaw. That's when she kicked him out. But since she won the lottery all she seems to date are assholes that leech cash off her."
I had no idea what to say, but I got the feeling Dani knew that and just wanted to vent. I was about to ask if she wanted something to eat when there was a knock on the front door. A second later it happened again. And a third time before I'd even gotten to my feet. Each time it sounded like someone was trying to use a wrecking ball against my door.
I opened it to face an angry-looking Phil. He had the type of largeness you find in a man who used to be solid muscle but has since degraded to flab. Skull tattoos adorned each arm, and someone had written love and hate on his knuckles so badly that it looked as if it had been done by an illiterate blind man.
"Can I help you?" I asked.
"You got my daughter in there?" he spat as he spoke.
"I'm not your daughter, you fucking bully!"
Phil's expression darkened. "Your mum wants you home, and I plan on taking you. Even if I have to drag you over there. Now get your fucking stuff, you little bitch, and don't give me shit." He yelled every word past me, as if I wasn't even there.
