by Izzy Shows
Back in the living room, I yanked on my boots and quickly laced them up, donned my thigh harness and shoved my wands into their holsters, grabbed my jacket off the chair and bounced back over to Finn.
"Ready!" I tried for a smile, but faltered at the grim expression on his face.
"Come on," he said, turning his back on me and stomping to the car, his hands fisted at his sides.
I sighed and shut the door, running a hand over it to put the wards back up, and followed him.
My seat belt wasn't even on by the time he had the car started and was lurching away from the kerb, tearing down the road like a hell hound was after us.
"Jesus, try not to get us killed," I said, shooting him a dirty look. I didn't like driving this fast, it made me anxious. I had a hand on the handle over the door to brace myself and found myself wondering if I was this bad a driver to other people.
No, it had to be Finn, I'd only driven this recklessly once and it had been for a very good reason. We'd been racing to Tyburn Tree, the very fate of the city had rested on us being able to get there before the ritual started. And, well, we'd more or less achieved that goal. One sacrifice had been made when we'd reached it.
"Let me drive," he said, as if I'd somehow insulted him and was also the reason for all the traffic that was forcing him to slow down. "Come on, wanker, I don't have time to drive for the both of us!" He was shouting at one of the cars that had swerved in front of him just to brake, causing him to slam on the brakes to avoid an accident.
I braced myself against the dashboard, growling under my breath.
"Maybe if you drove like a normal person, you wouldn't have to keep slamming on the brakes," I said, looking at him under a curtain of hair that had fallen forward with me. I knew it was a futile suggestion and would only inflame him more, but sometimes Finn was like a boil. You had to get him worse before he could get better.
"Maybe if you were ready when I came to get you, I wouldn't have to drive like this."
"How the hell was I supposed to know you were going to come pounding on my door at this ungodly hour?"
"Blair, it's nine o'clock."
Hence the rush hour traffic of everyone trying to get to work. I sat back in my seat, shoving my hair out of my eyes.
"Yes. I am aware of that."
"This is a normal hour for everyone else in the world. How is it not a normal hour for you?" He sounded truly bewildered, and I was of the opinion that this was a lot better than him scowling and snarling at me. I had apparently thrown him for such a loop that it had jarred him out of his bad mood, even temporarily.
"Because, I happen to like my sleep. Well, when I can get it. Well, sometimes. Point is, I need it, and I was up late, and you interrupted it. None of this is my fault." I tensed as soon as the words were out of my mouth, seeing the way his expression soured. Yep, that had been the wrong thing to say, totally wrong, I don't know why I thought I could get away with that.
"Actually, it's all your fault," he said.
"And how do you figure that?" I was having enough of being blamed for every bad thing that happened in London.
"If you had caught the wolf like I asked you to, we wouldn't be rushing to another attack," he said, all but snarling the words at me.
"No, no, Finn," I said, setting my lips in a firm line and holding up an obstinate finger. "I will not accept that, not from you. It is not my fault things are attacking people. It is not my fault people die."
Blame was something I could serve up all on my own, I didn't need someone else doing it for me.
"I have to report this to the media now! Do you have any idea how this is going to go over? Of course not, because you never have to deal with it."
Gritting my teeth together, I glared straight ahead at the cars outside. This was not my fault. I would keep telling myself until it felt true. Because, to tell the truth, it didn't just then. On the inside, I believed Finn. I didn't believe that he really thought it, and I knew he was going to regret saying it when all was said and done, but that didn't change the way I felt about it.
If I had caught the monster, no one else would have died. If I killed the werewolf when I had battled it, this would all be over and we wouldn't have anything left to worry about. Yeah, it was all my fault. I didn't have any trouble seeing that. I did have trouble with someone else telling me it, but mostly because it stung in the kind of way that having someone point out a part of your body that you're sensitive about does.
Because you know it's the truth and there's nothing you can do about it.
"You don't have to be such a dick," I said, though my voice was low, beaten, as I curled myself towards the window, as far away as I could. I wanted to make myself as small as possible, to not be in this car anymore though I didn't have that option. I was trapped in a steel box with someone who was upset with me; not a good situation to be in. Not for me, anyway. I had a habit of retreating into myself when I was caught like this, a survival technique I had picked up as a foster kid.
"Blair..."
"No, don't," I said, craning my head to look farther out of the window. I didn't want to hear any lame apologies that he didn't mean. I could wait for this party to be over, for when he'd actually mean any of it. "I'm working on it."
He sighed, lifting a hand from the steering wheel to drag across his shaved head. "What does that mean?"
"I had a run in with the wolf yesterday," I said, my voice a little quiet.
"Why didn't you mention that?"
"Well, I was busy with other things afterwards, and then you were pretty busy screaming at me just now. Didn't seem like the time to bring it up."
"Oh," he said.
Silence filled the car for several minutes, out of my peripheral vision I could see him fiddling with the A/C. It was cold in the car, but I didn't care. I didn't care about any of it just then. I wanted this part of the day over with as soon as possible, but I didn't see that happening anytime soon.
I still had to deal with the actual attack.
30
Rain was starting to drizzle down, dampening my hair, as I stood on the side of the road waiting for a bus. The crime scene had taken a lot out of me, mostly from the judgmental looks I'd received from the police squad. But also, and admittedly much more, by the destroyed bodies I'd been forced to look at.
Debating pulling a cigarette out, I ended up shoving my hands into my pockets and inching closer to the bus sign. It wouldn't do much, really not anything, to protect me from the rain but it made me feel better. I didn't want a cigarette to be wasted getting soaked if the heavens decided to pour instead of drizzle, so I was stuck without my nicotine and feeling like the weirdo standing on the side of the street.
I closed my eyes, remembering the scene of the crime. It had been absolutely horrific, bodies ripped to shreds, and the worst part was the location. It had been in an alley, not on some campground outside of town. The kind of location you would expect a mugging, not a brutal animal attack. It made sense to me, I knew it was a werewolf capable of shifting back and forth from human to wolf form and uninhibited in travel because of that. But the public wouldn't know that. I had no idea what they were going to think of all of this, and truth be told I didn't want to find out. I was glad I didn't watch the telly just then; I didn't want to have to watch Finn try to explain the situation to a room full of reporters.
One deep inhale and exhale later, the bus finally arrived. I got on, paid my fare, and took a seat somewhere in the middle. I leaned back in my seat, tuning my ears to the conversations around me to try and find something entertaining with which to distract myself for the ride.
"Can you believe it? I mean, I never thought Sally would be the one to...well, you know."
"Shag the boss? You can say it, I know I will. And I, for one, always thought she was a slut. Have you seen the things she wears, she's so desperate for attention? The only thing hard to believe about any of it is that the boss is actually interested in her."
"Well, sh
e is pretty..."
"Pretty? Ugh, I suppose, if you like the try too hard type..."
I quickly tuned out of that conversation, not enjoying it for one moment. Listening to two women bash a third was not my idea of a good time. Didn't they have anything better to do with their time than to tear each other down? There was enough opposition in the corporate world, from what I heard. They didn't need to make it worse for each other.
It was times like this I wished I had a music player, and could listen to one without blowing it up. How nice it would be to just put some music on right now and not have to scrounge for entertainment or else just sit there and be bored. Looking out the window, I was starting to think boredom and my own imagination would have to be enough for this trip.
I allowed my mind to drift away, creating a world that I could have lived in, if things had been different.
I'm only twenty-years-old and I'm on my way home from university for the holiday break. My parents have missed me so much, and I've missed them. They're practically perfect in every way, they couldn't love each other more if they tried, and my life has always been happy with them. Sure, there have been trials with school and with friends, but there wasn't anything on Earth I couldn't accomplish with them beside me. They were my best friends, no matter what.
OK, maybe they hadn't been my best friends in my teen years, but that was to be expected. You always wake up in your twenties and wonder how on Earth you were ever such a spoiled brat. I remembered the time it happened to me, and when I'd told them about it. We'd all had such a good laugh and they hadn't held anything against me, just fixed me a mug of hot chocolate and settled down on the couch to watch a movie like old times.
Maybe we would watch a movie again tonight.
I was nervous, of course, because I was bringing my beautiful girlfriend home for the first time, and I wanted them to like her. They knew I was pansexual, of course, that had been the easiest conversation of my life. It's not like I was worried they were going to reject her—but what if they found something wrong with her that I wasn't seeing? Oh, I hoped not, because we were just so happy together. If they approved then everything would be all right.
If I look over to my left I'll see my amazing girlfriend there, but I don't just now because she's working on something—she's an artist—and she hates it when I look while she's working on things. It's adorable. I always tell her how good her drawings are, but she seldom believes me. Such is the life of a creative, I think to myself. Oh, well, I'll have enough faith for the both of us, she'll see.
I wonder what my parents are going to make for dinner. My favorite meal, perhaps, since I'm coming home and all. It's not that coming home for a visit is such a rarity, what with them living in the city and all, but I never got to stay overnight since I was so busy all the time. Still, it was nice that I got to see them, that I was lucky enough to be around so much love for so long. I wouldn't trade that love and happiness for anything in the world.
Not for any infamy, certainly.
The bus rattled to a halt and I was jarred from my happy little daydream by nearly missing my stop. I climbed off with a dejected sigh—well, a girl could dream. I trudged through a puddle on my way up the walkway to my house, looking at it not with the usual happy comfort but rather with a sour feeling. Today wasn't a good day. I didn't want the life I had, I didn't want to be responsible for catching murderers, I didn't want any of it. I wanted one day of normalcy, something I was never going to get.
Maybe I could invite Emily out for a girl's night once this was over, before the next crisis began. Only, the Lilith crisis was never going to be over...
Nope, not sighing again, I won't do it. Time to toughen up and accept what I have to deal with. Move on. I lowered my wards and entered my house, kicking shut the door behind me.
"Bad day?" Kailan was on the couch with a book in hand, he looked surprised to see me.
"You could say that," I said, walking over, and sitting down on the couch. Well, it was more of a 'throwing myself down' motion than a sitting motion, but it worked all the same. "Have you had lunch?"
"Not as of yet, I was waiting to see if you would dine with me."
I thought about eating after the sight that I'd taken in recently, then shoved down any thoughts of being too nauseous to eat. There just wasn't time for that in my line of work; I would never eat if I didn't eat just because I'd come from one grizzly scene or another.
"Sandwiches OK?" I stood up again, feeling the ache in my feet that said I was too tired for all of this.
"Didn't we have sandwiches yesterday?"
I glared at him. "Sandwiches are all I know how to make."
"Sandwiches it is, then."
Oddly, I found myself smiling back at him when he beamed at me. I could tell that he was trying to make me feel better in his own odd way, and I appreciated that. I went into the kitchen and quickly put the two sandwiches together, grabbing a large bag of crisps and carrying it back out to the living room for us to share it. I then went back to grab two cans of coke, brought them out to place them on the coffee table, and resumed my seat.
Leaning forward, I grabbed my sandwich and took a bite out of it, letting out a pleasant moan. "Food," I said with my mouth full.
"Well, that is distasteful."
"Shut up," I said, swallowing my food, and taking another bite. What I wouldn't give for a greasy burger right about now, but even that was a luxury item for me. Sandwich meat was cheap and would last me a whole week, a burger would tide me over for one meal.
Maybe I would indulge, as a reward, later.
"Are you going to let me in on what's going on?"
I swallowed another lump of sandwich and put it back down on the plate, picking up my coke this time. "I don't see any reason to do that," I said. "It doesn't have anything to do with you."
He shrugged. "I might be able to help, though."
I frowned. What if he could? What if he knew something about werewolves that Fred didn't, and I was leaving an important piece of information on the table by not talking to him about it?
But no, I didn't want him involved. It was too risky, he might have some weird moral code and decide to get involved, and I didn't want him having anything to do with London. If he went outside he would draw the attention of the Utakar, and...and then death would rain down on this city unlike anything else we'd seen.
Except maybe this werewolf situation. This was pretty bad. Even the vampires had mostly kept to one victim at a time, not slaughtering whole groups at once. It used to be that if you travelled in groups than you would know you were safe. Now? Now, there was no telling what would happen to you if you walked through London.
Not that anyone knew that. Not that anyone would know that; they were going to be told it was a wild animal attack, and they would all feel perfectly safe within the confines of their city.
Gods, how had anyone missed the sounds of a giant wolf ripping apart so many people?
I shuddered and drank my coke. The answer was obvious enough—no one investigated unusual noises, no one got involved in business that was not their own.
"No," I said at last. "No, it's none of your business and I'm not going to involve you in it."
He shrugged. "Have it your way, then. You just look like you might want to talk to someone about it."
"I have people to talk to, thank you." I looked away from him, sipping my coke, and pondering that last statement. Actually... "Come to think of it, I have people I should be talking to right now. Excuse me." I set the coke back down on the table and stood up, walking out of the house again to make a phone call.
It took me three tries to get the damned phone to dial, but I did manage it.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Geoff, it's Blair."
"Oh, hello, Blair," he said, and I could hear the cautious note in his voice.
"Listen, I need to talk to you again. It's urgent."
Because your alibi wasn't good enough and I think you might be the kil
ler. There's been another attack and I can't make excuses for you anymore.
"I'm busy right now, but you could come by my house later this evening and we could talk."
"Odd, I would have thought daylight would be better for you."
"I'll take the night off," he said with a chuckle. "Will that work?"
"Sure, just text me the address," I said. And clicked off.
I inhaled deeply, looking up at the drizzling skyline. A meeting with a potentially murderous werewolf, at his house. What could go wrong?
31
Darkness had taken the sky but the rain had not let up at all, if anything it had become much worse. I had my hood up as I walked up to the massive house that belonged to Geoff, feeling intimidated by the architecture. I had expected a flat, or a townhouse even, not an actual house in the middle of London. Gods, that had to have been expensive. But I guess when you run a club catering to the elite supernatural beings of London, you can afford to have nice things.
"I wish taking care of the supernatural beings in London let me afford nice things," I said to myself before I knocked on his door.
Please, don't eat me.
The door swung open and Geoff stood on the other side, wearing a stereotypical bartender outfit of a black t-shirt and dark denim jeans.
"Please, come in," he said, stepping to the side, and gesturing into the house.
I raised an eyebrow. "You sure you don't want to rescind that invitation?"
"Are you planning on killing me tonight?"
"I don't know, are you planning on doing something worthy of a killing?" It was a quip, but it was the most honest answer I could give him without risking him kicking me to the kerb.
"No," he said with a gentle smile. "I'm not. Please. Come in."
I wanted to push it, see if he would invite me a third time, but ultimately gave in and stepped into the house. The door shut behind me and for once I was glad not to have the door locked. I needed to be able to get out if I had to, needed to know that escape was possible.
