The Cold Kiss of Death

by Suzanne McLeod

  ‘Just say the word, miss,’ Thaddeus growled in a voice deep enough to be a troll’s, ‘and I’ll make mincemeat of the sucker.’

  I gave Bobby a sympathetic look where he was still curled on the floor. ‘I think he’d probably appreciate it more if we left him alone to recover, gentlemen.’ I slid my finger down my nose, offering Thaddeus the respectful goblin greeting along with a closed-lip smile; no way did I want him to think I was challenging him. ‘But thank you,’ I added politely. ‘If I ever need to make mincemeat out of a vampire, I’ll know who to call.’ I wasn’t joking either, and not just because Thaddeus stood head and shoulders - literally - over any other Beater goblin I’d seen. The standard-sized ones were ruthless enough; I imagined dealing with a pesky vamp would probably be like swatting an irritating fly for Thaddeus.

  ‘No problem, miss.’ Thaddeus’ grey wrinkled skin fell into sombre lines as he lowered his bat. He slid his own finger down his nose, returning my greeting.

  Neil Banner smiled eagerly. ‘Ms Taylor, I wonder if I might have a word?’

  I held my hands out, indicating my Glamoured appearance. ‘Only if you call me Debby,’ I said drily. ‘Debby-with-a-y, that is.’

  ‘Oh, of course.’ His smile widened. ‘I was forgetting you were incognito.’ He fished in his jacket pocket and produced a neatly folded handkerchief. He held it out to me. ‘Er, you’re still bleeding ...’

  I took it from him. ‘Thanks.’ I dabbed at my hand, frowning. He’d obviously had his Crusaders and their pet Gatherer goblins out looking for me - the poodle-perm Souler who’d taken my picture with her phone on the Underground was evidence of that - but just to be sure, I asked the question anyway. ‘I’m curious, how did you recognise me?’

  He pulled out his phone, thumbed the keyboard and held it out to me. The screen showed a picture of my Glamoured self. ‘I had a little help.’ He smiled sheepishly. ‘And I apologise for the cloak-and-dagger antics, but it’s important that I speak with you, and with the situation as it is, I assumed, rightly as it turned out, that sooner or later you’d use the Underground, or come here. And quite possibly be in disguise. And of course, there’s not much magic that can fool a goblin’s nose.’

  Why was he babbling? ‘I take it you’re not going to inform the police of my whereabouts?’

  ‘Er, not at this moment, no.’ His smile wilted a bit round the edges.

  Which made whatever he wanted vaguely threatening. ‘What is it you want to talk about that’s so important, Mr Banner?’ I said calmly.

  ‘It’s a rather delicate, Ms—’ He clasped his hands together nervously. ‘Um ... I think you might have something in your possession that belongs to our Order. As we’ve met previously, my superiors decided it might be easier if I approached you instead of a stranger.’

  ‘So what’s the item?’

  ‘I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to tell you,’ he said apologetically. ‘All I can say is that the item was a bequest to the Order from someone recently deceased. The solicitor dealing with the will maintains that it is in your safekeeping.’

  I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘Why all the mystery, Mr Banner?’

  ‘The item is important, apparently, so you’ll know if you have it or not.’ He was practically wringing his hands. ‘But my superiors don’t want any information about the item becoming public knowledge.’

  ‘In other words they don’t trust me.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he rushed on, ‘I advocated being straight with you, I told them that you saved my life at risk of your own when that vampire attacked me, that you deserved to be told everything, but—’

  ‘I’m a suspected murderer on the run. Don’t worry, I get it. It hardly makes me trustworthy material, does it?’

  His cheeks coloured hot with embarrassment.

  ‘Thought so.’ I checked my hand where Bobby’s fangs had caught it. The skin had scabbed over already.

  I gave Thaddeus an appraising look. Beater goblins were usually employed in Sucker Town, a private police force paid for out of the vampires’ pockets to keep the night-time streets safe for human visitors. It’s not such a contradiction as the idea suggests, since goblins are all about the job, right down to the last full stop on the contract. Although the Soulers are the only humans that use Beaters instead of the smaller, more acceptable Monitor goblins for any business dealings involving vampires or magic, since turning up with a baseball-bat-toting bodyguard is not the way to engender trustful relations. So Neil Banner searching for me with a monster Beater goblin at his side wasn’t that surprising ... but then he’d mentioned our first meeting. That time he’d only warranted an inexperienced, imported goblin as a minder, even though he’d been mixing with the Earl and a couple of his fang-pals. Either his standing within the Order had gone up in the last month, or his errand was of prime importance. And once I started thinking of the Earl, it didn’t take much to put it all together. He was the only one I knew who had died recently and who had given me something of value.

  The Fabergé egg.

  My bullshit antenna twitched. Why would a vampire leave a religious organisation such a legacy - especially when said organisation believed that vampirism was evil and anyone who accepted the Gift was destined for Hell? And apart from anything else, the Earl had been around for eight hundred-odd centuries, so I doubt he’d expected to die when he did.

  But before I could ask, loud shouting erupted at the clinic’s entrance and I heard someone cry, ‘Where’s the sidhe?’

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘Where’s the sidhe?’ the girl shouted again. She was dressed skimpily in washed-out grey lace and velvet, white hair worn loose down to her emaciated hips. Her outfit labelled her: she was one of the Moths from Sucker Town, so called because they lived - and died - in the unlicensed off-piste blood-houses. Between the scraps of lace and velvet she had so many swollen red bites marking her thin body that she looked like she’d been prepared as a speciality dish for a fang-gang; not to mention she had to be pumped up higher than a kite with the amount of venom and adrenalin fizzing through her blood - not a good thing when she was brandishing a foot-long carving knife like some sort of ghostly warrior princess.

  What the hell was she doing here looking for me?

  ‘I gottaseethesidhe,’ the girl shouted again. ‘GottaseethesidheNOW. ’ Her words slurred as she banged the knife down on the reception counter.

  Hari appeared, his large hands held placatingly out in front of him, his yellow face splitting with cautious concern. ‘Now, miss, you want to put that knife down before you hurt yourself.’ He moved slowly forward, his big bulky body almost blocking Moth-girl from view.

  ‘Nooooo!’ She opened her purple-painted mouth wide and screamed, lunging straight for him. Hari dodged out of her way and her forward rush carried her past him into the hallway. She jerked to a stop in front of the lifts and stood, chest heaving, swaying like a sapling in an angry gale.

  Beside me, Thaddeus stamped his feet, trainers flashing red and raised his aluminium bat.

  Neil Banner placed a restraining hand on his arm. ‘No, my friend, the girl’s sick and needs our help, not our judgement,’ he said quietly.

  Moth-girl looked from our little group then back to Hari, her purple-eyelined eyes in her Pierrot-whitened face blinking like a confused clown’s as her brain tried to catch up with her headlong rush.

  Junkies off their head weren’t that rare at HOPE. The usual plan was to safely distract the junkie, in this case Moth-girl, until security could turn up and defuse the situation, then help her as best we could. Hari knew the drill as well as I did, except I realised he wasn’t wearing his stab-vest - what if she spooked? Mountain trolls might be born from rock, they might be tough, they might live a few centuries longer than humans, but their flesh was still flesh, and they could still bleed, even if it was silicate and not actual blood.

  Instinctively, I stepped forward, moving as slowly and cautiously as Hari had. ‘Hey,’ I called, just loud enough f
or her to hear me.

  Her head whipped round, the movement nearly overbalancing her. She peered suspiciously at me, still blinking.

  ‘Why do you want to see the sidhe?’ I asked softly. ‘Maybe we could help?’

  ‘Nottellinyou!’ She pointed the knife at me. ‘You ain’t the sidhe, I seen her picture. Sidhe’s got red hair an’ those funny eyes, ’n’you’re like blonde,’ she said accusingly. ‘You ain’t no sidhe!’

  ‘Miss, I’m sure the sidhe will show herself soon.’ Neil Banner smiled at her and kept his voice soothing. ‘You’ll be able to see her then. I’m here to see her myself. We could wait together?’

  I got the message: lose the Glamour so Moth-girl could recognise me. It wasn’t a bad idea. Trouble was, never mind anything else - like being wanted by the police, or even why she wanted to see me - the Glamour wasn’t that easy to lose. Distracting Moth-girl until security arrived was a much more sensible plan.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure she’ll be here as soon as it’s possible,’ I said agreeably, ‘so long as nothing happens to ... keep ... distracting ... her,’ I added much more softly, glancing at Neil Banner.

  He half frowned, then his face cleared into understanding as he deciphered my return message. He smiled at Moth-girl and said in the same soothing voice, ‘We could have a chat while we wait, if you wouldn’t mind, miss.’ Then he gave a small wave at the orange visitor chairs and took a couple of cautious steps towards them. ‘I’d be glad of the company.’

  Moth-girl frowned at Neil Banner, scratching furiously at the arm holding the knife, making the skin there even more red and swollen. ‘I got somethin’ to give her,’ she sniffed.

  Hopefully, not the knife!

  Neil Banner carried on with his gentle small-talk, trying to keep a hold on Moth-girl’s tenuous attention. Behind her, Hari was moving closer. His white uniform shirt was already grimy from the anxious dust puffing from his head ridge. Moth-girl’s face scrunched up with pain and she scratched feverishly again, this time at her inner thighs. It wouldn’t be long before she suffered a—

  ‘You know she’s heading for a blood-flush, don’t you?’ said Bobby quietly next to my ear.

  I only just managed not to jump; I’d been so focused on the girl I hadn’t been paying attention to anything else. ‘Yeah, I can see that,’ I said just as quietly. After my own early morning blood-flush nightmare I knew just how she was feeling: desperate, edgy, driven insane with the venom-fuelled blood burning her up from the inside out. If she didn’t lose the knife soon, we wouldn’t have to worry about her stabbing anyone; she’d be too busy slicing herself up.

  ‘I could catch her in a mind-lock and hold her still,’ Bobby whispered, ‘but the minute I try, the headband will shut me down again, unless you can mask the spells or something?’

  Yeah, I could crack them and blow his head off, or call them and knock myself out in the process, or I could spend a couple of careful hours dismantling them. None of which was going to help. I thought for a moment. ‘If you can get to Hari without her noticing and explain,’ I whispered back, ‘he might deactivate the headband. I’ll help the Souler keep her occupied.’

  Bobby slipped silently away and I turned back to where Neil was extolling the virtues of Thaddeus, who had hunched over. With his bat-like ears turned down, he somehow looked less intimidating than before.

  Then behind me came the thud of running feet. Back-up was on its way - except that the thudding sounded like a pack of trolls stampeding towards us, way too threatening a noise; the security guys at HOPE were usually better than that. Moth-girl stopped scratching and froze, her body trembling with sudden fear.

  A flash caught my eye and I realised the lights above the lifts were blinking for the fourth floor. Someone was coming - and whoever it was, they were about to walk straight out into the middle of everything.

  I started counting down.

  The running feet got closer.

  Neil Banner’s quiet chat notched up in volume as he struggled to regain Moth-girl’s attention.

  The lift reached the third floor.

  Two fully-armoured security guards raced past me.

  Moth-girl’s eye’s widened with terror, the carving knife shaking in her hand.

  Second floor.

  I starting moving; the beige vinyl tiles seemed to turn to sand, sucking at my feet.

  The guards came to a determined stop in front of Moth-girl.

  First floor.

  She stumbled back, turning to flee.

  But Hari loomed in front of her, trapping her.

  The lift doors pinged open. Grace, her white doctor’s coat flapping open, stepped out, not looking up from the file she was reading.

  ‘Grace,’ I yelled, throwing myself at them, knowing I wasn’t going to be fast enough, knowing I was going to be too late ... ... Moth-girl lunged desperately towards the open lift and escape ...

  ... Grace’s head jerked up, her face paling in instant understanding ...

  ... Moth-girl plunged towards her, the knife, forgotten, held out in front of her ...

  ... and as Grace crashed to the floor, papers fluttered up and out of her file like a flock of pigeons taking panicked flight ...

  I froze in horror as the papers settled.

  Bobby stood in the space where Grace had been, his arms wrapped around Moth-girl, his mouth open wide in a snarl, fangs gleaming white and needle-sharp. Moth-girl was pressed against him, crying, her head instinctively flung back to offer her throat because of the vampire’s nearness. Bobby lowered his head to strike, and the gems in the silver circlet sparked yellow with magic. He roared in anguish, lurched back and collapsed into a heap in front of the lift doors. Moth-girl gave a grief-stricken wail and raked her nails down her own face and neck, leaving blood-bright furrows. The two guards shouted a warning, then tackled her, pinning her to the ground, where she struggled and screamed beneath them.

  I dropped to my knees next to Grace, who was lying on her front, unmoving. I grabbed her shoulder—

  —and she whacked my hand away. ‘Get your hands off me,’ she snarled, glaring up at me, then her eyes widened as she took in my appearance. ‘Genny? Is that you?’

  ‘Of course it’s me!’ I pulled her over onto her back, frantically patting her down for any injuries. ‘She didn’t get you, did she?’

  ‘I’m fine, Genny, all in one piece.’ She pushed me away, back in control. ‘Now, let’s get this sorted,’ she said loudly over Moth-girl’s cries as she scrambled up and scanned the hall. ‘Right, the rest of the emergency team should be here any second. Genny, you g—’

  She stopped speaking, her dark eyes glazing over and her face going blank. Moth-girl’s cries cut out a second later as an unnatural stillness descended on all the humans.

  Mind-lock.

  ‘Shit,’ I muttered, and looked over at Bobby who was slumped unconscious against the lift doors, his silver-cuffed hands clasped over his stomach. Between his fingers protruded the hilt of the carving knife. He didn’t look so good: dark blood, a strange red-blue hue, bubbled over his bottom lip and a small puddle of blood pooled on the floor. But Bobby was a vampire and he’d survive almost anything other than having his head lopped off, his heart removed, or being turned into a pile of ashes. And he wasn’t the cause of the mass mind-lock.

  A sudden tapping noise drew my gaze to Thaddeus, standing protectively in front of Neil Banner, his baseball bat hitting the floor rhythmically. Neil’s face was as blank as Grace’s, Moth-girl’s, and the security guards.

  Thaddeus’ warning grin stretched wide, showcasing his ruby-encrusted teeth. As he and I stared towards the entrance the question I should’ve asked myself earlier finally jumped into my head.

  Why would a fang-gang attack a venom-junkie like Moth-girl, then send her in to HOPE to look for me? It didn’t make sense. The whole thing behind pumping someone up with venom was to get their blood fizzing, so both vamp and Moth would experience the high. Unless they wanted to keep their victim sens
eless and handy for a sunset snack, there really was no reason not to indulge ...

  Unless she was a distraction?

  The doors whispered open and my pulse leapt into my throat. Whoever the fuck it was, and whatever they wanted, it was something to do with me, and I wasn’t going to let them hurt anyone else. I started walking towards the entrance.

  The doors hissed closed.

  But no one had come in ...