“I think you got hit for six.”
Hawkins looked up, one eyebrow raised, then lowered with a wince. “Huh?”
“That little redhead hit you with a cricket bat.”
“You know cricket?”
“Spent some time in the West Indies. Hard to avoid it.” Dev sat in the other chair. “How are you feeling?”
“Like someone belted me with a cricket bat.” Hawkins let his head drop back to the cushion, but gently. He shifted the icepack and sighed. “What happened?”
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Um, the storage unit. I read my file and… didn’t like it. That’s it.”
Sitting back, Dev wondered how much he should reveal. It might be best if Hawkins didn’t know exactly what he’d done.
Hawkins opened his eyes and they were calm. “Just tell me. Trust me, unless I killed someone, I’ve done worse.”
Dev hesitated and Hawkins tensed.
“I don’t know if anyone died,” Dev said quietly. “I had to get you out of there before I got a full report.”
Struggling to sit up, Hawkins muttered, “I have to find out.”
“No, you have to lie down,” Dev insisted, reaching over to hold him down. He went far too easily. “Erin will let us know.”
“Fuck. Erin was there?”
“She’s the only reason you’re here now. Though she had every right to leave you there to hang.” It was out before Dev could stop it, before he’d even comprehended the thought itself.
From the look in his wide, still dazed eyes, Hawkins knew exactly the direction of Dev’s unintentional jab, if not the full details. “Ah shit.”
The monkey chirruped and popped its head up. Seeing Dev, it hissed and grabbed at Hawkins.
“Not now, dear,” he muttered, gently pushing the monkey off him. “Did the cops get involved?”
“Yeah. Erin said she’d talk to them.”
Hawkins stared at the ceiling for a while, then said, “Tell me everything.”
Dev did. The only thing he left out was bringing Lana’s and Hawkins’ files with him.
“God. That little redhead,” Hawkins moaned. “She barely looked strong enough to pick up a bat, let alone swing one that hard.”
“She was high as a kite.”
“Speaking of,” Hawkins muttered and tried to sit up again. “I think Erin keeps drugs here.”
“I’m not sure you should have anythin’ right now.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m a paramedic. Well, I was. Then I had an accident and they wouldn’t have me back. Then I went to prison and they really wouldn’t have me back after that. Then I met Mercy and things just went off the scales whacky then. Did you get those drugs yet? No ibuprofen, just paracetamol.”
“Stay there,” Dev said and got up.
He felt guilty for going through the drawers of Erin’s desk. A couple were locked and he guessed anything sensitive would be in them. There were no drugs in any of them, likewise the sideboard. Coming back to the front office, Hawkins waved him to the reception desk.
“Ivan will have some, definitely.”
He did and Dev delivered four Panadol into Hawkins’ hand and held a bottle of water for him. Hawkins swallowed the pills with a couple of moans and drank half the bottle in one go. All the while, the monkey hissed at Dev and hid behind Hawkins.
By the time Erin arrived, Hawkins was looking a little brighter and sat back with the monkey curled into his side. Both had their eyes closed. Dev had started pacing and didn’t know how to stop.
“How’s he doing?” Erin asked Dev softly, looking at Hawkins worriedly.
“He’s stopped babbling, so that’s good. I think he won’t suffer anythin’ permanent. He self-diagnosed himself with a mild concussion, but said it was probably the ‘berserker crash’ that put him out, not the blow.”
“I can hear you,” he announced, opening one eye to peer at them.
Erin took a deep breath and went to sit beside him. “Did Dev tell you anything?”
“That I went berserk and took it out on the Tool Brigade. How bad was it?”
“No one’s dead.”
Hawkins’ shoulders slumped a little and even Dev let out a small, relieved breath.
“One of the boys has a dislocated knee. Another boy had a broken nose and the big one, the leader, just had bruises and a few cuts and abrasions. The others weren’t there.”
“Good. And the cops?”
Erin glanced at Dev. “Well, considering that a freak lightning strike took out all the electrical devices in a hundred yard radius of the house, there’s no photographic evidence. None of the kids knew your name and none of them could give a credible description.”
Hawkins peered at her. “And you?”
“I said I didn’t recognise anyone, either.”
“You called them, though, didn’t you.” There was no accusation in his tone. Just weary acceptance.
“I did. Courey suspects it was you but I never said that outright, so he can’t prove it. I had to give them Dev’s name, though.”
Dev stirred. “Why?”
“Because I had to explain why I was there. I told them I was helping you with a personal matter and that you’d called me, saying someone had stolen your car. I tracked it using the GPS code the rental agency gave you, but the perp took off in the car before I could stop him.” She gave Dev a hard look. “You were never there.”
“Understood.” One call to Aurum and that lie would gain some weight when the Primal used his influence to cover it up.
“Great,” Hawkins muttered. “We’re going to have to ditch that car. I really like it, for all that it’s a Ford.”
“Where is it now?” Erin asked.
“On the street outside,” Dev said.
“Right. We have to move it.” She touched Hawkins’ shoulder. “You okay to stay here alone for a bit?”
He nodded but said, “I have to get home.”
“Soon,” she said soothingly, then stood and motioned Dev to follow her out.
In the hallway, heading for the lift, Dev told Erin about the sorcerer finding her office.
She frowned. “What does that mean?”
“That you’re in danger now. He knows who you are and where to find you.”
Her already pale skin went whiter. “All right. Thanks for the warning.”
“It’s more than a warning. It’s me sayin’ you need to shut up shop for a while. You don’t want this sorcerer coming after you. Trust me.”
“I haven’t done anything to him. Why target me?”
Dev sighed. “Because you’re there. It’s all the reason he’ll need.”
Chapter 31
Well, that cut the day’s activities short. When Erin and Dev returned from ditching the Mustang, Erin said she’d take Dev to the hotel and me home, and stay with me overnight, to make sure I was okay. I tried to tell her it wasn’t necessary but she wouldn’t listen. While we waited, she changed the outgoing message on the work phone to say unexpected business out of state had come up and to call back in a couple of days. She then went into her office to call her husband. When she came out, she assured me it was all good with a look.
“What about the monkey?” Dev asked, eyeing Marcel sceptically.
Marcel, for his part, wouldn’t leave me. He wrapped himself around my neck and refused to budge. Whenever we tried to pry him off, he went wild and invariably hit the incredibly sore spot on the back of my head, so we left him alone.
“I couldn’t reach Thisthlethwaite,” Erin admitted. “I guess we take him with us.”
Which seemed the only option, considering I’d probably need a general anaesthetic before they could perform a monkey-ectomy.
I’m used to being stared at in public for various reasons, including having no pants in the mall in the middle of the city. But having a monkey drawing the attention is a new one. A monkey that defended my head with snaps and hisses, especially if Dev got too close.
/> I patted Marcel. “Where were you a couple of hours ago, buddy?”
Marcel patted me back and chattered away.
At the hotel, Dev got out and promised he’d make contact when he had a new phone, then walked away from the hotel and down the street.
“He called down lightning,” Erin murmured as she pulled back into traffic.
“That’s impressive.” Now Dev was gone, Marcel finally let go of my aching head and settled on my lap. I leaned back, careful of the stinging lump and closed my eyes.
“Don’t go to sleep.”
“That’s a falla… a fal… not true.” My tongue didn’t want to obey me.
“Matt? Are you sure you don’t need a hospital?”
“’m fine. Hospitals will mean records and records will mean Courey can find me.”
“If you need medical attention, then I don’t care about Courey. He can’t prove anything.”
“He can if I left any blood there.”
Erin winced. “I cleaned the cricket bat before they got there.”
“With bleach?”
“Toilet cleaner.”
I laughed. Well, I felt like laughing, but it didn’t seem to happen. “That’ll work.”
She fell silent and I relished the quiet. Just the pounding in my head to keep me company. That and the dull ache in my left arm.
I knew, when I was able to think again, I would be worried about that, but probably not as much as I would be worried about the fallout from this latest loss of control. Erin had done what she could and hopefully it would hold water, but that didn’t mean I liked putting her in that position.
She had a good reputation with the police, having been one of them once. That rep had been tested a few times since she got tangled up with me, but not like it had been today. And it had all been my fault. If this looked like turning on her, I’d hand myself over. Maybe I should be off the streets. The Colonel would probably agree with that sentiment.
We reached home while I was dozing and Erin took Marcel in first, then came back for me. I hated leaning on her, but I would have fallen flat on my face if I didn’t. I was just grateful the neighbours weren’t there to see it and start asking questions.
“What do you need?” Erin hovered as I sat on the couch. Marcel disappeared into the house somewhere.
“Icepack. More drugs in a couple of hours.”
“Right. Do you have those things here?”
“Ice in freezer and drugs in en suite cabinet.”
She went to fetch them and I tried to read the time. My vision blurred and all I could make out was a haze of LED on the DVD player. Hopefully sunset would rock around quickly today, then Mercy could take care of me, freeing Erin from any more responsibility.
Erin proved a decent nurse, but she got bored watching me moan after a while and went to find Marcel. I flaked out, sleeping lightly and trying to ignore the pain. After my second dose of painkillers, things got a little clearer and I remembered my file.
Not available. What did that mean?
I half expected to get angry again, thinking about it, but all I felt was mild irritation. Who cared what it meant? All that mattered was my privacy wasn’t as perforated as it could be.
“Is your hand okay?”
The question startled me. I looked up to find Erin frowning at me. That’s when I realised my left hand was curled into a claw. The fingers were locked in place. There was a dull ache running up my arm, like the blood flow had stopped.
“Um,” I said, trying to move my fingers.
“Right, that’s it, I’m taking you to the hospital. This is serious.”
I wasn’t in the position to even stop Marcel right then, so she bustled about, getting ready. Hoping for a delay, I pleaded the need to go to the toilet and she reluctantly let me. I did actually need to go, awkwardly and swaying dramatically, then sat on the closed lid of the toilet and tried to move my hand. With a lot of effort and sparking pain behind my eyes, I got my fingers straightened out. They felt as stiff as stone, the joins grating painfully.
“Matt!”
“Coming. It’s hard to zip one handed.”
A long hesitation, then, “Do you need help?” Sounding like she desperately hoped I didn’t.
I almost said yes, just to see what she would do, but refused. She went away again. The reprise wouldn’t last long, I reckoned. So I turned on the shower and waited.
“Matt?”
“In the shower,” I called back.
“What?”
“I’m all manky. I can’t go in like this.”
“You’ll go in however I want you to go in. Get out here now or I’ll come in and drag you out by whatever I grab first!”
Again, tempting, but I made noises like I hadn’t heard. She yelled at me some more and by the time she ran out of curses, the sun was down.
Mercy apparently startled Erin, because there was a small scream, then raised female voices and by the time I unlocked the en suite door, Erin was stalking away, muttering about how she wasn’t to blame for anything that went wrong.
Eyebrow cocked, Mercy looked me over with a this-better-be-good-I-have-other-things-waiting look. “What did you do now?”
“Played the part of the ball in a cricket match.”
She shook her head and pointed to the bed.
An hour later, I was up, showered (for real this time), dressed and facing Erin in full mental capacity. Which was probably a mistake.
“It doesn’t matter what she did to make the pain go away, you still have a head injury. You need to rest at least!”
“I’m hardly going to rest with you yelling at me. It’s bad enough with one woman doing that. I can’t handle two.”
“If you’d act reasonably, I wouldn’t yell.”
“I didn’t yell at you,” Mercy interjected.
“Today,” I specified. “You haven’t yelled at me today. It’s not over yet. And speaking of which, don’t I need to go see Kermit?”
Erin narrowed her eyes. “I can go see him on my own.”
“You could,” I admitted, grabbing up a jacket. “But I’d like to talk to him, too.”
Turning to Mercy, Erin said, “Since you did this to him, I suppose I can’t get you to talk some sense into him.”
Mercy smiled, fangs and all. “I’ll keep him upright.”
“Great.” With a sigh of defeat, she ushered us out. “We’ll take my car.”
Which was all fine and just plum dandy. Until Mercy opened the door on the BMW.
“It smells like monkey.”
Apparently not picking up on the subtle nuance in Mercy’s low, tense tone, I replied with some terrible paraphrasing. “Get in there, you big fanged oaf. I don’t care what you smell!”
Mercy turned her headlights (not a euphemism) on me. Eyes burning tarnished silver, she bared her fangs in a much more threatening manner than she had at Erin. “It stinks. I’m. Not. Getting. In there.” Each word was bitten off with razor sharp snaps of her teeth. Then she slammed me with a wave of cold electricity.
Sidebar: What I call cold electricity is that dark, primal ‘power’ exuded by all creatures of the Old World. Not psychic energy as such, just an almost physical expression of otherness that lets you know this thing isn’t familiar, is dangerous and will probably hurt you. A lot. The strength of a pulse of cold electricity is, generally, proportional to the level of oh-my-fucking-God-what-the-hell-is-that? you’re facing. The purpose of the cold electricity is to incapacitate prey. Or in the case of weak Old World creatures, distract prey. Or in the case of psychic warriors like myself, annoy us so we get super angry.
Not to play the boastful parent or anything, but Mercy’s pulse nearly put me on my knees, twitching like the lead singer of an Australian, politically-active rock group. Nearly.
I stamped a foot to prove I still had command over my body. “Mercy!”
Her eyes flashed brighter and she began drawing in her psychic power to throw at me.
Which was
odd. I’m immune to Mercy’s psychic whammies, and to those of other vampires (mostly). She knew not to try this with me because I could reverse the whammy and send it right back at her.
Which was, probably, why she spun and threw it at Erin.
I leaped down the link between me and Mercy before I realised what I was doing. In a split second, I was suddenly looking out through her eyes at a night-time world of stark colours and crisply defined shapes. The thread of her psychic compulsion, aimed to enthral Erin with powerful bonds, burned along all my senses. On the far side of the car, Erin had begun to glaze over, eyes losing focus, fingers starting to go lax, car keys dangling perilously. I pulled back the compulsion before it could get more than a slight hold on her.
While Erin shook off the sensation, I pulled away from Mercy, but not before getting another taste of that sense of absence within her.
Ignoring the echo of emptiness in my own gut, I cautiously reached for Mercy. Physically, not mentally.
“Merce?”
She looked up at me with ordinary brown eyes. “What?” Albeit narrowed, angry brown eyes. “You did it again. You said you wouldn’t take over my head again and yet you did.” She crossed her arms and mega-pouted.
I gaped for a moment, then spluttered, “You were about to…” I waved at Erin, who was frowning at us, brushing at her hair as if trying to get rid of a strand of spider silk. The compulsion hadn’t got enough of a hold on her for her to have been aware of it, thankfully, and with Mercy back to, relatively, normal, I was left looking like a bit of a dork.
Beside me, Mercy tossed her black curls and said, primly, “Whatevs. I’ll forgive you, just this once, if we can wind all the windows down.”
Holy… wow.
“Sure,” I promised weakly. I mean, did I have another option that wouldn’t make Mercy flip her switch again, or get Erin even more off side?
“And I get the front seat.”
So, that’s how I ended up riding in the backseat on the way to the cemetery.
Once there, Mercy bounded out of the car and into the darkness like Marcel chasing a butterfly. She caught the comparison from my thoughts and sent a snap down the link.
“Dev thinks I might be in danger from this rogue sorcerer now,” Erin announced as we walked into the graveyard.
Night Call (Book 3): Rock Paper Sorcery Page 23
