CHAPTER Eleven
I wasn’t quite sure what I’d been expecting. I think a part of me had had visions of a Gestapo style entrance, complete with clicking heels and straight armed salutes. There would be a commandant of some kind trailing behind the main group, black leather gloves tugging at a lit cigarette. My experiences with Alex , the ‘surfer dude’ magician, should probably have prepared me for the opposite.
The lead mage didn’t look like a member of the Nazi secret police. He didn’t even look like a mage. He was just impossibly young, with chubby cheeks and tousled hair. The waft of stale marijuana smoke clung to his clothes and assailed my nose, even from the other side of the room. Not far behind him, a girl tripped in wearing quite possibly the most bizarre costume I’d ever seen. It was in the shape of a saucy French maid’s uniform, with a high puffed out skirt held in place by layers of frilly stiff petticoat, with colours that were, well arresting. There was a neon green heart on the front, with further neon pink and yellow starburst shapes shooting out from behind it. Her hair was black, probably dyed, and hairsprayed into pigtails that jutted out at least half a foot from her head and of which Pippi Longstocking herself would have been proud. I wondered for a brief moment if I should be offended that the Ministry of Mages thought that sending a pair of circus clowns would do that trick, before reminding myself yet again that appearances were deceptive and that I should probably just be glad they hadn’t sent more minions.
The pair of them were clearly in the middle of a pressing argument.
“No, no, no, no, no. Are you a mentalist, Martha? Are you mental? There is no way that Captain Kirk, Captain James Tiberius Kirk, would be beaten by anyone from the X-men. He might not have super powers, but he’s clearly of superior intellect and with superior cunning and all round abilities.”
Seriously? Mage Trekkies? I half considered calling on Solus to tell him the deal was off. Martha, for her part, simply grunted unimpressedly at her partner’s assertion. Perhaps she wasn’t much of a Star Trek fan either.
He continued on. “I mean, sure Wolverine has mad skills but you have to take into account that James T. Kirk is quite simply…”
The Trekkie stopped dead in his tracks and stared at me. Mute Martha didn’t quite notice me so quickly and slammed into his back. Swearing loudly, she lifted a hand to cuff him round the head, and then her eyes widened as she too saw me. Her arm dropped by her side and her mouth fell open.
Clearly this didn’t happen to them very often. I pasted a wide bright smile. “Hi! Welcome to Clava Books. How may I help you?”
They both continued to stare at me. Wow. These two really did have to work on their reaction times. If I had been some big bad nasty (and maybe I actually was) then I could have probably pulverized these two into dust by now.
I tried again. “Is there any book in particular that you’re looking for?”
Martha recovered first. She flicked her fingers and sent a flash of orange light hurtling towards me. I dodged out its way, skipping to the side behind a bookshelf and calling out, “Well, that wasn’t very nice, was it?”
The beam of light smashed into the wall behind where I’d been standing and sizzled an old poster with curling yellow edges advertising the latest Gaelic ‘blockbuster’ on famous salmon spawning spots in the highlands.
Grunting again to her hash sodden partner, Martha said something to her partner. I could hear both of them moving, taking up different spots around the shop floor, trying to outflank me. I felt the heat inside me uncoil and smiled humourlessly at its return. For a moment, I gazed at my fingertips and watched them spark at the edges with flickers of green flame, before dismissing them by curling my fingers into my palms. Displaying my newly found witchy powers might not be a good idea if this went against me.
All of a sudden there was a rumble and a crash. One of them, I assumed the Trekkie, was over-turning the bookshelves. They were stacked pretty close to each other and towered high up to the ceiling. The effect created was somewhat of a domino line, with each shelf crashing into the next one, taking away all of my cover and leaving me nowhere to hide. Well, if that was the way they wanted to play it then fine. I jumped out from behind the safety of the shelf just before it too went crashing against the hard wooden floor, and pulled out the silver needle from behind my head. My hair fell loose, swinging irritatingly against my face, but I ignored it and focused on the figure in front of me. The heat inside me directed my actions and, with one twist of my wrist, I sent the needle flashing towards it. I sprang back behind the sturdy counter that housed the till and ducked down, without waiting to see if I’d hit my mark, although the answering yelp of pain assured me that I had.
“We could just talk about this first, you know,” I shouted out to the now dust-filled shop. “There’s no need to be so hasty.”
Silence answered me. Clearly they weren’t in any mood to negotiate. I shrugged. I’d given them their chance and already made my point. It had been a while since I’d had a real fight. Punching a Fae and dealing with a drunk Derek had hardly allowed me to let loose much of my pent up energy. Neither had struggling against the steel hard grip of Corrigan for that matter. It was about time I had a little fun. The tension of the last hours swam through my veins in unrestrained heat, until prickles of fire hit my eyelids and took over. Without conscious thought, I leapt out from behind the counter and pulled up the heavy old-fashioned till, yanking it from its power socket and flinging it towards where I’d heard the needle induced shout of pain. It banged against the leg of the fallen male mage who went from clutching his cheek where the silver had pierced through to grabbing hold of his leg. Martha was standing in the opposite corner, next to the fallen stacks of shelves. Her body was tense and her fists were clenched, leaning every so slightly to the left. I jumped to my right and just managed to escape the shooting orange beam that she sent, then I ran at her headlong, barreling into her stomach and smacking her against the window.
The impact of her body against the hard glass sent me momentarily bouncing back, scuffing a fallen bookshelf with my heels. I heard sounds of Trekkie staggering slowly to his feet so I picked up one of the fallen books, flinging it hard in his direction. The buzz that registered through my hand before it left my fingers gave me the sudden grim satisfaction that it was the Fae book that had become my weapon. It must be my day to be making the Wee Ones work for me, I figured. Unfortunately, it didn’t deter him too much and the air in the small shop started to hum with power. His eyes had turned glassy and he was chanting something under his breath. Blue light was starting to ripple around him, not unlike what Alex had conjured when he was using a tracing spell down in Cornwall. Before I could react further, I felt a clawing, suffocating band of pain round my throat, squeezing it tight. Panicking I gulped for air. Martha was back on her feet, also muttering something, also with blue light suffusing itself around her.
I sank to my knees, fingers scrabbling at my throat as I tried to suck in air desperately. Almost every vestige of conscious thought had fled from my mind – all I could think of was my closed airway and the screaming pain and pressure building in my lungs. I scrunched my eyes up tight and sucked up the last part of flame from inside my stomach and them, without thinking further, wrenched my hands away from my neck and flung them out in opposite directions each pointing towards a different mage. Imagining a flash of green fire behind my eyelids, I concentrated as hard as I was able, feeling the tingle of Maggie’s unhappy gift shoot again from my fingertips. Air crackled around me. The chanting from both magicians abruptly stopped and the hum in the room blinked out like a light. I fell forward onto my hands and knees, choking, opening my eyes and becoming dimly aware of the green tinged glow coming from both sides of the shop. Forcing myself to move as quickly as I could, I pulled myself to my feet and flicked a glance in both directions. The green fire was completely consuming both mages, who were silently screaming from behind a wall of flame. It didn’t seem to be burning them conventionally in the way that a normal fire would, although the shop and its contents around them were lighting up like dry kindling. Rather my attack seemed to be holding them in place, nullifying their own blue light and rooting them to the spot as the building around them burned.
The acrid smell of burning paper and wood had completely filled the area. Martha’s eyes were wide and terror filled, whilst Trekkie’s arms were flailing around uselessly. I paused for a heartbeat then sprang towards him, pulling his body away from the flame and yanking him towards the street. I placed my hand on the knob of the glass front door to turn it, but the metal seared into my skin, tearing off shreds of flesh as I snatched my hand back. Still holding onto Trekkie’s arm with my other hand, I mustered up every atom of power I could and kicked out with my booted foot at the glass. Thankfully it shattered easily and I jumped out the jagged exit I’d created, dragging him after me. I thrust his body down onto the road, away from the kerb and the heat of the now explosively burning bookshop, then ducked my head down and went back inside.
Martha was in the spot where I’d last seen her, against the front window of the shop. The shelves that she’d so cleverly knocked down scant moments before were ablaze and fire was licking up the sides of the walls, eating up the curling faded wallpaper. The smoke was becoming thicker by the second. Pulling up my t-shirt to cover my nose and mouth I reached for her and tugged her arm sharply to get her away from whatever strange immobilising properties my shot of green light had created. She barely moved, however. Through the clouds of smoke I just made out her eyes staring down in panic at her foot. I glanced down. It was caught underneath the edge of one of the heavy wooden shelves. I could feel her pull at it to get out but it didn’t seem to shift. The heat inside the shop was becoming almost completely unbearable. Martha stared at me with wide eyes. Flecks of orange light danced behind her pupils. Raising up a single index finger, I pointed at her as if I was holding an imaginary gun. Her muscles tensed and her eyes squeezed tight. I moved my finger down and then flicked it at the offending shelf. A flickering beam of green light shot its way towards the wood, which then, abruptly, exploded in cloud of splinters. Barely registering the shards of wood that had embedded themselves into my clothes and skin, I tugged at her body again. This time, her feet came free and we were moving towards the shattered door and out into the sweet clear night air of the street.
In the distance, the wail of sirens could faintly be heard. I turned and stared at Clava Books, sucking in the fresh air in loud gasps. The paint was peeling away from the old sign and flames and smoke were billowing out from the hole in the door. I felt a dull ache in my chest as Mrs Alcoon’s pride and joy disappeared whilst I watched. Tears streamed from my eyes and I tried to blink them away. Feeling a yank from my hand, I turned to my left and realised I was still holding onto Martha. I let go and she backed away, tripping up over her feet and falling to the cobbled road below. Trekkie was now on the opposite side of the road, away from the searing heat emanating from the shop, looking from me to Martha to the inferno and back again. I opened my mouth to say something then thought better of it. The sirens were getting louder. I turned on my feet and just ran.
Internally, I knew the smart move was to get as far away from Inverness as possible. I was desperate to pick up my box, my laptop and my clothes from the bedsit, however. I’d had to cut and run and leave everything in Cornwall; I had no desire to do exactly the same thing again. I figured that the police and the fire brigade would have their hands full for at least the next hour putting out the blaze at Clava Books to worry about coming by to see where one of the bookshop’s employees were. They’d probably try and track down Mrs Alcoon as the owner first and there was no way on earth that they’d find her any time soon. A Fae’s word was their bond and, whilst I didn’t believe I could yet completely trust Solus, I knew that as far as she was concerned he wouldn’t let me down. The police would assume that she’d been killed in the fire, which would at least mean that they wouldn’t be looking for a missing person for the time being. I stopped momentarily in my tracks. F*ck. That did mean that they might be looking for someone who might have committed arson and tried to kill her, though. The logical suspect would be me. I started running again, scenarios tripping through my mind. There was no-one who would vouch for my good character. The regulars back at Arnie’s bar – and Arnie himself – would tell them that I had a nasty temper and was capable of violence. And as for Maggie, well, she’d been prepared to set the Ministry onto her best friend just because of the threat she believed I posed, so clearly I couldn’t expect any help from that direction. Alex had said on the phone that when Corrigan had asked the Ministry to set up a locator spell on me they’d refused. That was probably because they didn’t wish to involve themselves in shifter politics. I was pretty sure that they wouldn’t be so reluctant now that I’d almost killed two of their members.
Outstanding. I’d gone from having to hide from the Pack, to now having the human side of the law and the magical side of enforcers on my heels. How on earth I was going to get out of this, I had absolutely no idea. I supposed I could get Solus to help me hide with Mrs Alcoon in Tir-na-nog. But not only was there no guarantee that he’d do that – after all I’d already bargained away the only thing I had to offer – also, it was only a temporary solution. I had to find some way to put things right as far as she was concerned. I owed her a lot and I wasn’t about to let her languish in the land of the Fae for the rest of eternity because I’d f*cked up.
I rounded the bend onto the main street. The sirens of the fire engines were now just a bare whisper on the wind. I could see the building of my bedsit up ahead and didn’t think I’d ever been so glad to get back to it. I slowed to a fast walk so that I could double check that it was safe to get in, grab my stuff and skedaddle. I still had no idea where to go or what to do – my options were fairly limited, let’s be fair – but if I was going to help Mrs Alcoon at all I had to make sure that I didn’t caught by any of the various denizens of both the human and the otherworld that were after me.
The street itself was silent and still. I scanned up and down its length but couldn’t make out anything. Figuring that I probably only had moments at best before either Martha and the Trekkie either caught up or contacted the Ministry who would send someone a damn sight faster – and stronger – than they already had, I jogged across, already pulling my key out of my pocket. I caught a moving shadow out of the corner of my right eye and spun around, attack stance already prepared. I had nothing left to attack with, however. My remaining weapons were inside and I’d lost the silver needles in the shop. It was fortunate, therefore, that it was just a cat, frozen in its tracks as it had caught sight of me. It had sleek black fur and green eyes that gleamed in the glow of the streetlamps.
“Corrigan,” I half-whispered to myself, watching it decide I was of no interest after all and slink off into the night.
Kitten.
I yelped aloud as the man himself entered my head.
What’s the problem?
Now I was frozen in place, clutching the keys in my suddenly very sweaty palm and barely daring to breathe. I composed myself and answered him back.
Problem? I have no idea what you’re talking about, my Lord. Now f*ck off and leave me alone. There, that told him.
There was a moment of silence then his Voice reappeared. Except that this time you called me.
Errr…what? It was impossible to initiate Voice contact unless you were an alpha. I wasn’t even a shifter so there was just no way…
Stop playing mind games with me, My Lord. And with that I slammed him out of my head and walked up to the door, beginning to fumble with the lock. It must just be a coincidence that he’d decided to start f*cking with me at this point in time. The bastard. He should just learn to leave well alone.
Once inside, I carefully and quietly closed the front door behind me. I tried to sense whether there was anything or anyone lurking around inside the entrance waiting for me but everything appeared normal. I waited for five beats and then took a deep breath and sprinted up the stairs. Fortunately the carpet was deep enough to mask the sounds of my hurried steps so I swung quickly round the corner and made for my own door.
As soon as I was inside I quickly reached under the bed and pulled out my box. I flipped it open to double check that everything was there and then opened up the drawers of the rickety wooden dresser, pulling out clothes and stuffing them into my backpack. I laid the box on the top, pausing briefly at the sink to grab my toothbrush and toothpaste and zip them into a side compartment, and thrust a couple of replacement silver needles in the loose knot of hair at the back of my head. Then I left without looking back.