Gold Teeth stepped forward. ‘Kallisto, leader of England’s Red Fang chapter extends a personal invitation to you to join her in her home. I, Darryl Wulfsun, have come to escort you.’
Saar’s power pulsed, a quick stab of nervous energy a finger’s breadth from panic.
Ray stiffened and reached back with his arms, as if to protect her within the circle of his flesh. ‘She’s not going anywhere with you.’
‘Daddy . . .’ She grabbed his hand. The fingers were stiff and hard beneath hers. ‘Don’t.’
The second man, all greasy, slicked back hair and shifty eyes, gave a sigh and tapped his watch.
‘I know, I know.’ Darryl shrugged. ‘But we’re not supposed to hurt anyone.’
PC Bristow shoved her way to the middle of the standoff and stared up at the bigger man. The top of her head barely reached his chest. ‘You have five seconds to get down on your knees with your hands on your heads.’
‘Humans.’ Darryl snarled, a terrible ripple of sound like the grumbles of a wild beast. ‘I don’t take orders from humans.’ A pale yellow colour seeped across the whites of his eyes, blanking them out until nothing remained but the gleam of lupine gold and a perfectly round, black pupil.
Lenina shrieked. Bristow paled.
PC Bristow gave a wordless bellow and cracked her asp against Darryl’s shoulder. She followed with a punch, aimed at his face. He didn’t even flinch. Darryl caught her fist and jerked it to the side, one large, sweeping motion. Grinning, he drove an answering punch into her breastbone.
The crack sent a wave of weakness through Lenina’s knees. She clutched her father and tried to hold back the scream bubbling up into her throat.
Bristow’s fingers flexed on the asp. Released. Dry, wheezing coughs slipped from her mouth along with a dribble of blood. She fell, clutching her chest.
Darryl Wulfsun stepped over her twitching body and placed his hands on his out-thrust hips. ‘So, girlie, about that invitation?’
Chapter Two
Lenina’s thoughts struggled. Like wading through thick mud. Through the attempts, Saar’s laughter echoed in her head.
She bit her lip. ‘Help you or help me?’
He chuckled.
Answer enough.
Darryl shrugged. ‘Let’s put it another way: come with us, or I’ll kill everyone in this room.’
PC Bristow made a sound somewhere between a yelp and a whimper. Each breath frothed in her chest. A pale blue colour crept across her lips.
Lenina gripped her father. Her legs refused to move, even if she wanted them to.
She cleared her throat. ‘PC Bristow needs help.’
‘Then stop stalling. I ain’t got no quarrel with her—once we’re gone the coppers can do what needs to be done.’
That name . . .
The room dipped in and out of focus. One moment Lenina stood in the living room, the next in a hot, wet rain forest.
Insects ticked and clicked around her, a soft layer of sound beneath the call of birds coloured yellow, blue and red. Tepid drops pattered down from the leaves above, spotting her face and chest.
Ahead stood a cluster of barely clad men with spears fashioned from sharpened sticks. Smears of green and brown paint dotted their arms and faces. Many boasted needle sharp twigs thrust through their nostrils.
At her side, the small, dark haired form of a girl around six years of age, laughed and clapped her hands.
‘They’re perfect,’ she sang. ‘Can I keep them?’
Lenina jerked free of the memory, but the young girl’s face persisted. Thin. Pretty in a lopsided way, with long hair draped over her back and shoulders.
She stepped forward.
Ray’s hand closed over her forearm. His dark eyes were wide, showing white all the way around. ‘What are you doing?’
She touched his hand. Remembered all the times he’d been there for her. All the times he comforted her, hugged her, loved her. The only reason he was here at all was because of her, his desperate need to take care of her dragging him up from London. If not for her, if not for her lack of control with Nick . . .
Lenina eased her arm free. Nudged him aside. Faced Darryl. ‘If I come with you, you won’t hurt anyone?’
He held up his hand, palm out. ‘Sure. Come willingly—no fuss—and I won’t hurt a soul. My word on it.’ The phrase seemed to mean something to him. Darryl actually stood straighter when he said it and gave her the full weight of his gaze. Even the smile was gone, replaced by quiet solemnity and patience.
She looked again at Bristow. At Jackson still struggling beneath the mound of DVDs.
I don’t know what else to do.
Lenina straightened her shoulders. Lifted her chin. When her legs threatened to give way she locked her knees and stepped forward. ‘I’ll go.’
‘Chuck, don’t be stupid.’
She raised her hand. ‘I don’t want you to die, Daddy.’
‘I won’t,’ Ray insisted. ‘He’s bluffing. No one would ever make a threat like that and actually mean it.’
The scents on the air said otherwise. Even if she was new to the power of her god-touched nose, Saar wasn’t. With two thousand years of practise, he knew the smell of another predator when he caught it.
As if sensing her resignation, the ancient creature gave a gleeful surge within her. His pleasure flooded her senses; not just excited, he was . . . ecstatic.
Darryl made a sweeping gesture with one arm. ‘After you, m’lady.’
She dragged her feet towards the figure with the golden smile. He grabbed her the moment she came within range, swinging her round and pulling her back tight against his chest. His nose sank deep into the hair at the nape of her neck. He inhaled. Sighed.
‘Interesting. You don’t smell like the rest of them.’
Lenina yearned for a long, hot shower.
The greasy-haired stranger strode around her towards Ray. He smiled and then, lightning quick, grabbed the bigger man’s wrist, slid right and forced Ray’s arm up behind his back.
Lenina gaped. ‘You said you wouldn’t hurt anybody.’
‘I haven’t.’ Darryl grinned. ‘Did you see me move?’
‘But my dad—’
‘—Is insurance.’
‘But—’
A bored sigh. ‘Luke?’
Ray shrieked as the pressure on his arm increased. Another inch, would dislocate his shoulder. He bent at the waist, grasping and grunting.
‘Stop it,’ shrieked Lenina. Tears gathered in her eyes. ‘God, please, don’t hurt him.’
Darryl flashed his Midas smile once more. ‘Then we understand each other?’
She shook her head. ‘He can’t—he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know. Just take me, please.’
A vein pulsed in the centre of Ray’s forehead. Sweat dripped down the side of his neck. ‘Lenina . . . don’t. Let me come with you. I can help.’ He fought hard against the grip on his arm, but the angle made effective movement impossible. Each time he tried, his neck corded and tension shivered down his arm and legs.
‘There has to be another way,’ she begged. ‘Please.’
‘Take me instead.’ PC Jackson’s voice came from beneath the pile of fallen DVDs. He staggered to his feet with a great sigh and an air of one proud of a major feat. The narrow glasses hung crooked off one side of his face, his hat was nowhere to be seen.
Silence.
‘Did you hear me?’ With a deep breath and a glance at his partner, Jackson righted the glasses and inched forward. ‘I’ll go. Let’s leave civilians out of this.�
�
Darryl smirked. ‘Civilians? Boy, this ain’t no American cop show.’
‘Innocents then. Let Mr Miller stay here and help my partner.’
Lenina gazed at Darryl. Held her breath.
‘Why?’ He spoke slowly, clicking the ball of his tongue piercing against the back of his teeth.
Jackson straightened his shoulders. His expression behind the wonky glasses was utterly serious. ‘I’m a policeman. I can’t, in good conscience, let you take Mr Miller.’
‘Really? Just that?’
He hesitated. ‘Of course. What else would there be?’
‘You tell me.’
Lenina shared her stare between the two men, then studied the floor.
‘We’ll be miles away before reinforcements arrive. You know that, right?’ Darryl sounded amused.
‘It’s a risk. I’m prepared to take it.’
‘What do you think, Luke?’
The greasy one looked up from his man-handling of Ray. ‘I think we need to get out of this house. Stop playing and do what we came for.’ Though the words were harsh, his gaze slid past his partner’s and focused on the air behind him. His shoulders hunched slightly, as if preparing for a blow.
Darryl considered for agonising seconds. ‘I don’t trust you. No human is as selfless and giving as that, I don’t care what their job is. And you smell like bottled rage. You’re a ticking time-bomb, copper.’
Stunned by the similarities in the observations, Lenina looked again at the officer.
He squared his shoulders. ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘And I’m really a nice guy.’ Darryl scoffed. ‘No dice. We take the old man.’
At a gesture, Luke shoved Ray into a stumbling, bent-backed walk. He marched through the door without pausing, vanishing from sight within seconds.
Lenina struggled. ‘You can’t—not my dad—he said he’d go with you.’
‘And why would I take the copper when I’ve got your pops? Do you know this guy? Care about him at all? You must think I’m an idiot.’ Darryl pulled her tighter against his chest and wrapped his fingers around her throat. ‘Now back out with me, girlie. Real slow.’
#
The front door was a crumpled pile of blue and green splinters. The metal numbers “1” and “2” lay near the bin, still attached to fragments of plastic and wood.
Outside birds sang, the sun shone and the day continued as though the world wasn’t about to end.
Lenina watched clouds scud across the autumn sky in puffy, cotton wool trails.
At the end of the drive, engine idling, stood a blue and white van. No windows, except for those at the front. Luke already had the side door open, holding Ray by the neck with effortless ease. He growled, low in his throat and gave the bigger man a little shake. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ he murmured.
Officer Jackson ran from the house. He watched, fingers twitching, eyes narrowed. He spoke into the radio clipped to his shoulder, giving locations, descriptions, summaries. Not that it would make a difference. When he finished, he leaned forward as if readying himself to leap.
‘I dare you, copper—be a hero. I know you want to.’ Darryl grinned and shoved Lenina aside. ‘I like a good fight.’
Jackson sucked his teeth. But he didn’t move.
‘That’s what I thought.’ Grinning, Darryl gestured to the van. ‘Your carriage awaits, girlie.’
Lenina rubbed the sore spot on her arm. ‘Please, don’t do this. Let us go. No one will know.’
His expression darkened. ‘She will. Get in.’
Still she hesitated. ‘Kallisto? So? Why are you doing this? Is it money? Is she paying you? I can offer you more—I’ve got jewellery. Savings—’
‘Money?’ His eyes flashed. ‘Are you thick?’
Ray gave a tremendous roar and threw himself backwards. The motion caught Luke off guard and sent him skipping backwards. The pair landed on the ground and rolled, all flailing limbs and loud shouts.
‘Daddy, no!’
Luke leapt up with a flip like a martial arts pro. His teeth gleamed long and sharp in his mouth, not three fangs like Lenina’s god-touched change, but every single tooth. As Ray tottered to his feet, Luke darted in, slashing across his belly with his fingers spread wide.
A mist of crimson flew into the air.
Ray shrieked.
Bright florets of red blossomed through his shredded shirt.
Time slowed. Colours burst with abrupt vividness while every edge and corner took on a hard clarity. Sweet blood scented the air, overpowering the stench of car exhausts. Every voice, every thump, every footstep, every heartbeat hammered against Lenina’s hearing like the pounding of immense drums.
Fangs pricked her bottom lip.
Someone was screaming, a shrill, feral roar.
Only when she reached Luke and kicked him in the throat did she realise the voice was her own. Inside, Saar applauded from within his prison, rattling the bars of his cage.
Something scraped the pavement.
Lenina threw herself to the floor. Rolled. Above her, Luke stumbled as his wild swing missed its mark. She drove both feet into his stomach. He reeled back, crashing into the fence at the end of the drive and tumbling over it, out of sight. She stopped, panting, searching, confused, afraid.
‘Daddy?’ She crawled to him and dragged his head into her lap.
Blood stained everything, from the paving slabs to his hands. The smell of it filled her nostrils, sweet, hot and delicious. The crimson warmth stained her fingers and Lenina shuddered as longing coursed through her.
Just a taste . . .
Lenina opened her mouth. Her tongue tingled in anticipation as her bloodied fingers hovered before her lips.
Ray groaned.
‘Daddy?’ The need to drink ebbed. The scent lost its sweetness. Instead Lenina experienced gripping cold as fingers of icy terror closed around her lungs. ‘Oh, God, no. No, no, no.’ She unfastened the top buttons on his shirt. ‘You’re going to be okay—it’s shock—stay awake. You’ll be okay. You will. You’ll be fine, I promise. Daddy?’
Sweat coursed down his face in rivulets. His fingers twitched. The red stains on his shirt expanded. His eyes rolled, unfocused and glassy.
Darryl loomed above her, the lower half of his face twisted and elongated. Hair bristled down the backs of his hands. ‘Leave him. We need to go.’
Lenina pulled her father closer. Ripped his shirt open. A foul stench slapped her senses and brought tears to her eyes. Four deep gouges ran across Ray’s torso, choked with blood so dark it appeared black. The first, high up across the chest leaked a thin, yellowish fluid. In the lower ones, soft pink things bulged and pulsed with each laboured breath.
Are those intestines?
‘Shut up!’ Lenina beat the side of her head with a bloodied fist. ‘Daddy? Please, Daddy, look at me. Say something’
Darryl grabbed her arm. ‘Time to go.’ He hauled her upright as if she weighed nothing.
Ray’s head slipped from her lap and thunked against the floor.
Faint sirens floated on the breeze. Three different sets.
One of them had to be an ambulance. It had to be.
Lenina squirmed. ‘Let go. Please—I have to help.’
The tall man shook his head. He appeared to frown. ‘You can’t.’
‘But the hospital—’
‘—Can’t help. His guts are hanging out, girlie, look at him.’ Darryl didn’t wait but dragged her towards the open van. At the entrance he stooped and grabbed her ankles, tipping her into the vehicle like a sack of potatoes. ‘Luke, get in here. Bring the other one.’ Then he threw himself on top of her and pinned her wrists to the floor.
>
Lenina screamed. She kicked and bucked her hips. She scratched and clawed. Darryl bore it all with nothing more than a grunt and a few choice curses.
‘Help my dad. Please. Help him!’ Her eyes rolled as she fought to see.
Something sharp pricked her thigh. Creeping coldness fanned outwards.
The world lurched, then blurred with alarming swiftness. She blinked. No difference.
Her legs stilled.
‘What . . . did you do?’
Darryl eased off her body. One hand curled loosely around the shaft of a syringe. In the dim light his face appeared normal again. His gaze slide away. ‘It’s a sedative.’
‘You can’t. Please . . .’
‘Why didn’t you just get in the van? We were leaving. It was good.’
‘Daddy . . .’
‘He’s gone, girlie. I’m sorry.’ He even sounded sincere.
She growled, but the sound was distant. Even the echo of Saar’s voice seemed to come from miles away. ‘It’s not . . . he needs . . . help him. He needs help . . .’ Every word loitered on her tongue.
The very act of keeping her eyes open gave her a roaring headache. She closed them. Just for a moment.
Chapter Three
Alexandria, 9 September 30 BC
The sweet scent of burning flesh clung to the air like a stubborn child. It refused to leave, no matter the strength of the wind, seeping into every stone, every scrap of cloth, every leaf on the trees.
Saar held his breath for his long as he could, but habit more than necessity made him inhale. Each time he did, the smell permeated his nostrils and clogged his senses.
Sitting in the rich brown mud of the Nile delta, he scribbled his name in the earth with the point of his finger. He used the Egyptian glyphs Cleopatra once insisted he learn and added Kiya’s name beside it. On the other side he scratched ‘Mosi.’
Just seeing the name generated a fresh surge of rage.
He dashed the signs away with the flat of his hand.
Sand, mud and water slid from his clothing as he stood, returning to the river which carried the taste of dead, rotting men. Many months would pass before the waters tasted as they once did. Thankfully, crops cared nothing for the extra flavouring.
Walking The Razor's Edge Page 2
