“Tracking cult members associated with the Slasher murders in London, Sir. So, if you don’t mind I’d like myself and my colleagues cut out of these handcuffs,” I said, twisting to offer him my cuffed wrists.
He smiled, small and tight, it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve received orders from the imperial centre to find your skinny backside and give you back-up regardless of the overtime. Without a word of explanation. Does that sound like something which should incline me to believe a word you’ve said when we cannot find anyone here to justify your assumptions about a cult being present in my lovely quiet neck of Scotland?” he asked. He also held Bethan’s warrant card and she watched it with hunger in her eyes as he tapped it against his leg.
“Sorry, Sir,” I said, deciding he outranked me in the force if he felt able to give me a dressing down without introductions. “Our consultant, Marcus Ursus, had news of the Slasher. I didn’t think you’d want him on your patch during the next dark moon,” I said.
“No, I wouldn’t, DI Grey, but I also don’t like being told what to do by London when this is sovereign land of the Scots. You might have informed me of your esteemed presence,” he said.
I didn’t have the willpower necessary to deal with his sarcasm. “Sorry for the inconvenience. It all happened a bit more quickly than anticipated. Did you catch any of them?” I asked. “The cult is extensive.”
Even under the strobing effects of the lights I could see his face flush red. Hit and score, they’d failed to apprehend any of the Hunters. I wasn’t surprised but it would have nice to win one for our team by holding one, no matter how briefly.
“No, we did not, which means you are our only suspects at the moment, DI Grey. I think I’ll hold you nice and safe in those cuffs until your superior arrives and confirms exactly who you are, who they are and why you are on my patch in such an isolated place. Perhaps, DI Grey, you are the Slasher? We’ll allow your Chief Inspector Hoggart to explain as he is on his way up here to discuss matters with you in person. Apparently you weren’t supposed to be out of the metropolitan area,” he countered, trying to make me just as uncomfortable.
“It would be a relief to hand over to him, Sir,” I said and smiled sweetly.
The anger in him flared hot and bright – I’d hit a nerve. He wanted to haul me over the coals of procedure and he’d discovered I didn’t give a shit.
“Get him and others in the chopper and get them the fuck out of here,” he snapped. “We’ll find the rest of this cult no matter what it takes, these soft southern pussies aren’t going show us up. And I don’t believe anyone would be stupid enough to give this fool a badge. Get them back to the station as quickly as possible and keep them quiet.” He pointed at me with obvious disgust.
I wished him luck. They’d no more find the Hunters or the creature than I’d find the Loch Ness monster in the Thames. We were taken, none too gently, to a grounded helicopter, the blades kicking snow up in all directions. Whatever predators other than us lived in the area, they’d not be finding dinner tonight. The glen stank of people, aviation fuel and diesel from the four by fours. Marcus moved with a surprising meekness and Bethan cursed them in Hindu just to freak them out. I think the only words she knew in Hindu were swear words but she made the most of them. She’d never have done it in London.
We found ourselves bundled into the back of a large Sea King helicopter and I chose to sit on the outside of the vehicle, ensuring Bethan sat between me and Marcus. He stared hard at me and I smiled. His mouth twitched, knowing full well I was up to something, and disapproving despite not knowing the plan. But he’d fallen foul of more than one of my plans over the years.
“I’ve never been in one of these,” Bethan said quietly as the engine revved, forcing the blades to turn faster. The noise was incredible and everything trembled violently. The plastic cuffs were tight on my wrists and the seatbelt too loose.
“Just hold on,” I said. “You’ll be safe if you stay still and stay between us.”
She looked up at me in alarm. “What do you mean ‘stay safe’?” she asked. “I didn’t think I wasn’t safe.”
I kissed the top of her head. “Just stay safe,” I said again.
She groaned. “I should have been a nurse,” she muttered and began a prayer I didn’t recognise.
I’d spent a lot of time in these old Sea King helicopters moving around the world from one conflict to another during my service to Her Majesty’s government. They were new when I first started my life as a mortal man, not a Seelie prince, but now the technology felt old and weak. Susceptible to outside interference.
I closed my eyes and dropped my centre of focus as we lifted off the ground and rose straight upward, only to turn one hundred and eighty degrees, flying out of the glen the same way they’d come in, the sensible option considering the darkness. It meant we’d be following the road back to base, which I suspected would be Fort William. I didn’t want to go back that far so my centre of focus left my body and settled in the steel below our feet; then filtered outward through the seams of the aircraft, tracing the joints and flowing around the rivets. I continued to push and soon found what I sought, the old wiring which controlled the basics of flying in this old lady.
Modern aircraft are all controlled by computer circuits and have so many backup systems you have to fry the lot with an overload before you can make it land. This, more often than not, leads to dangerous crashes with no control. I needed a controlled crash, somewhere around our Land Rover.
I forced the trickle of awareness to become a pulse of power, one I couldn’t spare but we were in need of help and I’d sort out the psychic starvation later. I overloaded the wires with a surge of electricity, the stuff we Seelie are closer to – wild power and intent. The pulse travelled quickly through the system and hit the engine, blowing something vital on the way.
Flashing lights on the control panel and shouting voices made me smile.
“What have you done?” asked Marcus suspiciously.
“Nothing much,” I said weakly, feeling sick again. “But make sure Bethan doesn’t hurt herself.”
I watched him close the distance between them and cover her with his own body by leaning sideways. The controlled panic of the pilots came through the airwaves and we were told to prepare for an unscheduled descent.
“Oh, bloody hell,” Bethan muttered.
The helicopter began to shudder, the tail rotor no longer stopping us from spinning, Newton’s law taking over. The officers who were responsible for us, not the pilots, began to panic and shouted orders, which we ignored. I reached for the metal rigging behind us and grabbed it tight, despite having my hands tied. The metal surrounding us and the engine began to scream at each other, no longer working in harmony and the whole vehicle shuddered, trying to tear itself apart.
“Brace!” I yelled, recognising the sounds around us. I spread my legs and trapped Bethan’s down to the floor under my right thigh. I leaned forward and the helicopter dropped out of the sky, hitting the ground hard, everything feeling like we were in car smash, the world tilted crazily and then the sound of the rotors shredding themselves on the hard ground under the snow. Metal screamed loudly and shuddered. The engine bellowed in protest and exploded in its effort to remain airborne, not understanding the new reality. I began to smell men’s fear. Someone had clearly lost control of their bowels.
The helicopter rested on her side, with me under the others.
“Falcon?” Marcus called out.
“Can’t move far, Bethan’s on me and you. Can you get free?” I asked.
“I was free ten minutes ago,” he grumbled. “Plastic isn’t a good way to contain a Seelie.”
I chuckled. “You know, I didn’t even think about it,” I said.
“You’ve been in this world too long,” he shot back. He released himself from the seat belt and dropped to the door on my side of the aircraft, moving with effortless grace. I heard the mortal men coming out of their shock.
Mar
cus reached behind me and cut me free – they’d not frisked him very well – and I reached for Bethan instantly. She slumped next to me but roused soon enough when I called her name and shook her shoulder. I released her wrists and her seatbelt, pulling her upright and placing her gently on her feet.
“What happened?” she asked, trembling slightly as she pushed her hair back.
“I crashed the helicopter,” I said. “Marcus, can you manage that door? The others are waking up.”
He stood close to me and I could smell him as he stood on a box and fiddled with the latch overhead.
“Almost got it,” he said, grunting with the effort. The aircraft had become twisted slightly on landing and the door groaned as he forced it up, only for it to crash against the body of the downed bird. He lifted himself out of the hole and held a hand out for Bethan. I raised her effortlessly and he pulled her up just as easily. They both stood on the side of the helicopter as I levered myself out of the aircraft. I then jumped off the side and held my hands out for Bethan. She slid down and I caught her as Marcus jumped into the snow beside me. Everything stank of aviation fluid.
“Are they going to be alright?” Bethan asked.
I glanced at the huge dead metal beast. “They’ll be fine. There’s no fire. We didn’t do anything really dangerous and we weren’t high off the ground. Don’t worry, I didn’t do it to hurt anyone.”
“Shouldn’t we call someone?” she asked.
“No time, trust me, sweetheart, they’ll be fine,” I said. “Can you run?”
She stared at me. “Can I run? You’ve just crashed me into the side of a mountain after –”
She yelped as Marcus heaved her off her feet once more and over his shoulder.
“This is so undignified,” she cried out.
“Then you should do as you’re asked more often without complaint,” Marcus said.
I grinned and we began running off through the snow toward the nearby woodland. I’d brought us down in just the right place. Clever me.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
We reached the Land Rover in good time but the tracks we’d left through the snow would give even mortals an easy target to follow, I didn’t have time to fix the problem or the energy. In fact when we reached the Land Rover I slumped against the side of the truck feeling really sick and dizzy.
I rested my head against the roof of the vehicle, my back to the window. “You sick,” announced a comical voice. I opened my eyes and stared cross-eyed into Gifling’s upside down face, her hair a mesh around mine.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“Liar,” she said.
Marcus pushed her away and grabbed my jaw. He looked into my face and I didn’t resist; feeling his fingers grip my jaw made my knees weak. “She’s right, Falcon. You are in no fit state to be driving,” he said.
I closed my eyes and slumped slightly. “I just need to sleep for a little while,” I said.
“Give me the keys,” he said, still holding my jaw. I hesitated. His fingers grew tighter, hurting me. I gazed at him and breathed into the pain, craving it, but Marcus’ eyes darkened and his hand dropped. “Just give me the keys,” he said, now refusing to look at me.
I’d made a mistake, he didn’t want to play and I wasn’t sure he’d ever want to play again. Exhaustion made me fumble through my pockets. I found the keys and handed them over wordlessly.
He moved to the driver’s door and opened the Land Rover. “Gifling, you need to ride up front with me. I need to know where we are going,” Marcus said.
Gifling clapped her hands and climbed into the Land Rover. I climbed in, suddenly finding it difficult to control my arms and legs. Bethan settled and opted for seat belt testing as a way to control her environment.
“Sorry about the crash,” I said, my voice weak.
“In the last day I’ve broken more laws, seen more weirdness and experienced more blind terror than anyone else I know and I know some bad people,” she said a little sharply. “But you are sorry, so that’s okay.”
“Leave him alone, Bethan, he’s not strong enough to deal with hysteria,” Marcus snapped. He gunned the engine and we backed out of the wood and down toward the road, slipping and sliding. We hit the tarmac with a bump.
“Which way?” he asked.
“That way for now,” Gifling said, waving her left hand in the air.
Marcus stared at the small woman and scowled. “I don’t have much patience with Seelie who make life difficult.”
Gifling leaned forward and patted his hand on the steering wheel. “Just drive shiny car away from whoop whoops,” she said.
Marcus growled and turned east. I closed my eyes and let the wave of exhaustion wash over me, turning my limbs to jelly.
A small finger invaded my ear. “Gifling, for God’s sake,” I snapped, slapping her hand. She now sat behind me, leaning over the seat like a naughty child.
Bethan smirked. “I think she’s sweet on you.”
I shot my DC a look which just made her grin spread further, rather than quelling her sarcasm.
“You need help,” Gifling said. “You need to feed.”
“Go away,” I said.
“She’s right,” Marcus said from the front. “You know what you need to do.”
“I’m not feeding,” I said but my voice sounded weak even to me. I had a foul headache brewing and my hands were losing sensation. My face felt numb and my thoughts were slurring.
“I don’t understand,” Bethan said.
“That’s because you’re dinner,” Marcus said.
“Shut the fuck up,” I snapped.
“What?” she asked.
“Ignore them,” I said.
“No,” she said. “Come on, you tell me everything.”
“Bethan,” I said tiredly. “Trust me, you don’t need to know because I would never do anything to hurt you.” Which I said for the benefit of the Seelie sat in the Land Rover.
Her hand touched my thigh, startling me. “What’s wrong, Falcon?”
I stared into those big brown eyes and felt the hunger rising, the essence inside me darkening and crawling out of my soul to devour the humanity I so carefully maintained. The illusion of the driven but cultured police officer started to disintegrate into darkness.
I tried to think, to elucidate to Bethan the man – not the monster. “Seelie, the powerful kind, like my family, we have moved a long way from the essence, the basic stuff, of our kind. We are made of the same fundamental nature as the Underling and the Dvergar but we have more control, more finesse –”
“More bollocks between them and the origins of our kind,” Marcus said.
I ignored him. “When we are here for a long time, in this world, we are separated from the more powerful vibrations which make up our world – Elfhame. In order to combat this, Seelie like me, we eat organic meat, drink spring water, find nature to lie in for several hours. We recharge, just slowly, which is what I will be doing,” I said clearly for the benefit of all.
“But what happens when you are like this?” she said. “You’re really pale, Falcon, and your skin looks like paper.”
“Nothing happens when I’m like this. We’ll have time to stop and I can eat. I’ll feel fine when I’ve eaten,” I said.
“And what happens when I need you?” Marcus snapped.
“What is your fucking problem?” I barked at him. “I’m doing the best I can. I’m not feeding from Bethan. She is my friend and I am here to protect her.”
“She’s a mortal, it’s what they were created for,” Marcus shot back.
I ground my teeth. “God, I’d forgotten what a fucking racist you could be.”
“Hey, you chose this world over ours – not me,” he snapped.
“I chose my brother’s life over his death,” I said.
“You were weak.”
Our eyes met in the rear view mirror and he stared at me with anger and resentment. “Marcus, I can’t, not Bethan. She means too much to me. I know what
you want but I really can’t do it.”
His eyes softened. “Little Bird, you are fading before our eyes. You have to do this.”
“Do what?” Bethan asked.
“I can feed from you,” I admitted quietly. Gifling made a contented sound at my confession.
“Okay,” Bethan said. “I can handle that.”
“No, you can’t, sweetheart. When a powerful Seelie feeds from a mortal that mortal is enslaved to them.”
“You’re exaggerating, Falcon,” Marcus said. “You won’t be enslaved. A weak willed mortal will become enslaved after a few feeds but it takes time and you aren’t weak.”
“But we were lovers and I care about her,” I said. “And she cares about me.”
“You mean she loves you,” Marcus announced with a tone I didn’t like.
“Fuck you,” Bethan said, moving forward in the cream leather seat as if about to smack him. I held her back with surprising difficulty.
“It’s irrelevant who feels what about whom. I’m not feeding off Bethan.”
Gifling climbed over the back and sat between myself and my DC. She poked my face and it hurt. “You need to feed, Birdy. If not the girly then someone and it needs to be soon because the bear is hungry.”
I glanced at Marcus in the mirror and he looked back, his eyes blank. She was right, the energy he used to create the glamour to hide his torn body and keep the pain under control would drain him quickly. I closed my eyes and said quietly, “I don’t feed in this world.”
No one spoke and I tried not to curl up in a corner of the Land Rover and surrender to the pain. It might not seem like a big deal to most Seelie; we were designed to feed on mortals. We were created to use them or they were created for us, I didn’t think it mattered. I did understand the consequences though and I’d built my life here to ensure I didn’t need to hurt people to survive.
Right now, though, I ached all over, each joint becoming shards of glass and grinding stone. I didn’t feed from mortal souls because I believed in free will. The right to make decisions about your own life was a tenet of my existence. I’d fought for people’s freedom all over the world and believed in the justice system that helped maintain it. The system wasn’t perfect, but at least it tried and I also tried to make it better. By feeding in the Seelie manner, rather than leaving it to time to repair my exhaustion, I would be taking away the free will of the mortals I chose. I hunted Seelie here – such as the Dvergar – stopping them from destroying lives, from taking lives, so wasn’t about to become that much of a hypocrite.
Seelie (The Falcon Grey Files Book 1) Page 12
