Jakov grunted, and Fletcher ducked down as he saw the man lumber past the mausoleum, Didric’s torch casting a long shadow ahead of him.
This was bad. Didric and Calista he might have been able to fight off, but with Jakov . . . his only option was to make a break for it. Even then, Calista had been hired as a guard for her athletic build, and Fletcher was not sure if he could outrun her, especially with an unpredictable demon wrapped around his neck. The good thing was that Didric seemed to be the only one with a torch. Fletcher might be able to lose them in the dark.
He sunk down to the cold marble floor and waited, hoping they would leave before checking the mausoleum. It seemed such an obvious place to look, but then it probably appeared empty at first glance, with him hiding behind the stone cover. The torch light from outside dimmed as Didric wandered down the rows of graves and a heavy drizzle of rain began to patter on the roof. Fletcher allowed himself to relax; they wouldn’t search for long in this downpour.
The cracked ceiling began to leak, and a thin trickle of water splattered beside him. He edged away from the growing puddle and tried to stay calm, though it was not easy knowing who was searching for him outside. He hoped this was not how the animals he hunted felt when he tracked them through the forest.
Just when he thought he had escaped them, he noticed the dark around him retreat as the light from the torch drew closer. Didric was returning! Fletcher heard swearing as the boy ducked into the mausoleum and held his breath as Didric wrung out his cloak. The torch spluttered from the rain, then finally died and cast the room in darkness. Didric swore viciously. A few moments later Jakov and Calista followed, both of them just as foul mouthed and wet.
‘Did I say you could stop searching yet?’ Didric growled in the darkness, but he sounded resigned.
‘He’s not here. He must have doubled back when I went to get you.’ Calista’s voice was tinged with misery.
‘Don’t think you’re going to be paid for this,’ Didric spat. ‘No Fletcher, no money.’
‘But we’re soaked!’ Jakov whined, his teeth chattering.
‘Oh grow up. We’re all wet. That little sneak may have given us the slip, but all that means is it will be worse for him when we do catch up with him. Come on, let’s get out of here.’
Fletcher breathed a silent sigh of relief as their departing footsteps echoed through the chamber. Then, just when Fletcher thought the ordeal was over, the demon stirred. It yawned with a loud mewl and unravelled itself from his neck. With an affectionate lick of Fletcher’s face, it tumbled into his lap and stretched languorously.
‘What was that?’ Didric hissed.
Damn.
11
Fletcher stood up and squared his shoulders, tipping the imp on to the floor. It yelped in protest and darted into the back corner of the mausoleum.
‘Is that you, Fletcher?’ asked Didric, squinting into the darkness. The entrance was the only part of the chamber that was visible in the dim moonlight, so Fletcher was likely just a dark shape in the shadows. Didric began to walk towards him.
‘What do you want, Didric? Isn’t it past your bedtime?’ Fletcher asked, his voice filled with confidence he did not feel. It was better he announce himself now than allow Didric to come closer to investigate. He wanted to keep the tombstone in between them.
‘The little sneak is in here!’ Didric called out, but there was no need; Jakov and Calista were already standing behind him. Their black silhouettes were stark against the moonlit graveyard, giving Fletcher the small advantage of knowing where they stood. But the fact that they were barring the way out definitely did not help his chances.
‘Caught like a rat in a trap,’ Didric said with sadistic relish. ‘Not so clever now, are you, Fletchy?’
‘I see you’ve brought your two nannies with you,’ Fletcher said, wracking his brains to think of some way out of there. ‘Three against one is it? Why don’t you fight me like a man? Oh wait . . . we’ve already tried that.’
‘Shut up!’ Didric snapped. ‘You sucker punched me. If it had been a fair fight, I would have beaten you into a pulp.’ His voice was taut with hurt pride and anger. Fletcher knew his only way out of this was to take Didric on, one on one.
‘So fight me now. Let Jakov and Calista see what would have happened if I hadn’t,’ Fletcher said with as much conviction as he could muster. He clenched his fists, and took a step forward. There was silence for a moment, then a chuckle.