"He was just checking out the newcomer," I said. "Probably understandable."
The movements stopped slightly. "So you're staying?"
"Wasn't planning on it. I plan on having a sleep and then leaving in the morning."
"It can be dangerous walking around these parts at night. I didn't even see you wearing a pistol."
And it begins
. "Don't like pistols. They're inaccurate at any meaningful distance and up close, I can do just as much damage with a dagger."
Stephanie pushed me forward. "Let me get out of the bath so I can get your neck properly. I'll get back in after."
I moved forward and, true to her word, Stephanie stepped out of the bath without bothering to dry herself with a towel. I had to force myself not to watch her dripping wet body as she walked behind me and started rubbing my neck. "Are you enjoying the Scotch?"
"It's excellent." The bottle was nearly half empty, and had absolutely no effect on me.
The neck rub lasted for a few seconds until I felt something cold and sharp against my neck.
"Well, this took longer than expected."
"What?"
I looked up at her and smiled. She pressed the blade of the knife against my throat further. "What are you so happy about?"
"You're naked, holding a knife against me. It's sort of silly. You could have just come in shooting, or, indeed, waited until I was asleep and then did it. I assume whoever sent you here is really fucking nervous."
"You don't know anything. It's people like you who have to be removed to protect us all."
I tried to nod, but the blade made it uncomfortable. "The sheriff tell you that?"
"You will answer my question, and then you'll either go to the house outside of town, or die here."
"The house... ah the one where the monster lives."
"The what?" Stephanie appeared to be genuinely confused.
"No matter. How about this? You remove the blade and answer my questions, or... well, you won't like the alternative."
"I'm in charge here," she protested.
"That you are." I moved faster than she could comprehend, pushing her arm away, grabbing hold of her and pulling her head first into the bath with enough force that a large portion of the bathtub's contents shot over the side, drenching the entire surrounding area.
As Stephanie thrashed around, I stepped out of the bath and used my fire magic to instantly dry myself. I watched with humour as Stephanie continued to make sitting up the most complicated action of her life, although it probably didn't help that each of her legs was draped over opposite sides of the tub. I pulled on my clothes and took a seat on the bed to wait for Stephanie to compose herself.
I'd removed the knife from her hand as I'd thrown her into the bath. It was a nice piece - ivory handle with a four inch steel blade. It was about as useful against a sorcerer as bad language, but if she had stabbed me, it would have hurt. And besides, then I would have killed her and wouldn't have been able to ask what I needed to.
Eventually, a seething Stephanie managed to right herself. "If you're going to kill me, get on with it."
I threw the knife behind me. "I want answers."
"Go to hell."
"Now, I know you don't care if I kill you, but if I walk out the front door they're going to know you didn't complete your job. And then I'm guessing you'll end up talking to the sheriff and his friends. Do you really want that?"
Stephanie glared at me, but shook her head. "No," she almost whispered. "What do you want?"
"What are you all doing here? I'm certain everyone is in on it. I just can't figure out what
it
is."
"The hills have diamonds in them. We don't want anyone from outside to find them."
"And that's why you're killing people? To get rich?"
"We're going to make our town separate from the rest of this godforsaken country. The sheriff told us that once we have the diamonds and our protector has his soldiers, we can start to take back what's ours."
"Protector? It wants to take over America?"
She shook her head. "Only Montana. To make sure it never becomes part of the Union. And anyone in our way dies."
"The ranch-holder was in your way?"
"She found out what we were doing, what we'd planned. She had to die."
A thought occurred to me and I took a hunch. "You were there, weren't you?"
Stephanie glanced down briefly, but when she spoke she maintained eye contact. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
I knew a liar when I saw one. "You watched her murdered. Did you stab her yourself? Did you enjoy it?"
"I only watched," she snapped before she could stop herself. She immediately realised her mistake. "The sheriff and his men got half a dozen of the town occupants to help kill her. They opened the barn doors so that everyone else could watch."
I stalked toward her and placed my hands on the edge of the tub. "You watched her scream for mercy, watched as people started to cut on her. What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"She went against the town. She had to be silenced."
"Are there any children in town?"
She shook her head. "It's a town rule. Kids can come later when we have things straightened out. The sheriff doesn't want any of them to see what needs to be done."
"What needs to be done," I said absentmindedly. "Goddamn it. Get out of the tub."
"What?" she asked, but I was in no mood to ask again. I grabbed her arm and dragged her from the tub with one pull, dropping her onto the floor with a splat as her wet flesh hit the wooden floorboards.
"Get your ass in that chair," I snapped.
She dragged herself into the wooden rocking chair. Her arm was red where I'd grabbed it, but as far as I was concerned she was lucky to still
have
both her arms.
I removed the tiebacks from the window, and tied Stephanie's arms behind the chair, making sure that she couldn't get up. I took the second tieback and attached it to the first, using the other end to tie it to the handles on the chest of drawers. If she started yanking at the rope, she'd get out, but it would take a while.
"You want me still so you can kill me," she said, and spat at me, missing by a few feet.
I stood in front of her and rolled up the sleeves on my shirt, letting her watch the orange glyphs light up on my arms. "If I wanted to kill you..." A small sphere of flame appeared in the palm of my hand, and Stephanie's eyes opened as wide as possible. "...you'd already be cinders."
The flame vanished, and I put on my coat. "You're going to give your friends in this town a message. They have forty-eight hours to leave. To run as far away as they can. Because in two days I'm going to come back, burn this entire fucking town to the ground, and piss on the ashes."
Chapter 22
New Forrest, England. Now.
After the fight with the ghouls, I waited around long enough for the LOA emergency paramedics to turn up and check that everyone would be okay, before leaving and heading home.
Agent Greaves was almost back on his feet by the time I left, and Olivia was nursing a sore, but healing, wound on her shoulder. Everyone got away with minimal injuries, a lucky break when it came to dealing with ghouls.
I took the time to head home, get a shower, and wash off the grime from the incredibly long day. Dealing with ghouls, finding another murdered girl, searching Vicki's house, and interviewing Neil had left me feeling emotionally, if not physically, exhausted.
Even so, after making an important call, I managed a few hours' sleep, only to be woken by someone banging continuously on my front door until I made my way from the bed to open it.
"Hey, Tommy," I said, with all the joy that I could muster after just being woken. "Could you possibly be a little louder? I think there are some rivets in the house that you haven't worked loose."
"Nice to see you, too," he said stepping inside, and closing the door behind him.
"I don't think my kitchen can take another fridge raid," I told him as we made our way to the kitchen, where I made both of us a cup of white tea.
"I'm not hungry," he said.
"Okay, what's wrong? You're always hungry. Are Olivia and Kasey okay?"
He nodded firmly. "Yes, thanks for that. You saved Olivia's life. And Kasey is... concerned for her mum. She'll be okay, though."
I waved his thanks away. "Glad to hear it. We were all in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"They've taken Olivia to the medical clinic at my office building. We've got some of the best trained people in the world. They want to keep her in for a few days to make sure that the neurotoxin has worked its way out of her system. Olivia's pissed off and wants to hurt something, but she'll live."
"And Agents Greaves and Reid?" Agent Reid had been found unconscious, covered in his blood a few streets away from the police station. He'd been incredibly lucky.
"Greaves is less than happy that he's under my people's watchful attention, but he's healing well. Reid was bitten by the ghoul who used to be Vicki. He's going to be in the infirmary for a day or so like Olivia."
"How did you come to have such a good medical team?"
"We did some work for a medical centre whose staff was getting harassed by a pissed off ex-employee and his friends. Apparently, trolls hold grudges. Who knew? I offered them a place to work without worry, whilst we dealt with it, and they ended up staying. So they work for me, but are pretty much their own little section of the business."
"And I guess it helps having the people who are there for treatment being right next to the people who might look into such things without notifying Avalon."
“The thought never crossed my mind.”
"Why are you here? I assume it's not just to give me an update on Olivia and the rest, as good as it is to know they're all okay."
Tommy's expression changed to one of seriousness in an instant. "Ghouls, Nate. There are goddamn ghouls and a lich in my city."
"I know, Tommy," I assured him. "I made a few calls earlier today. I'm expected at the airfield in about two hours."
Tommy chuckled. "Off to Canada?"
I didn't need to answer. Tommy knew full well that the answer was yes.
"Right, well, I'll go get ready and meet you there."
I opened my mouth to argue, but thought better of it. If I'd said no, he'd only have been at the airfield waiting for me anyway. "Fine, meet me there in two hours exactly."
"Done," Tommy said, dashing off and out of my home seconds later.
The old airfield had been officially abandoned years ago, leaving the twelve-foot-high chain-link fence to guard nothing more than the grass, which broke through the tarmac, and the vines, which grew over an old hanger, threatening to consume it like a slow moving predator.
The fence kept away anyone who might get too interested, or kids thinking that breaking in would be a good for a laugh. But it was just window dressing. Anyone getting past the fence would notice that the runway further into the compound was oddly free of any grass, and the tarmac was smooth and well maintained. And a close look at the front of the hanger would make it obvious that the vines had been allowed to grow in a very specific way, never obstructing the entrance.
Military signs, bright yellow and black, each the size of a manhole cover, adorned the fence at regular intervals. They extolled the notion that anyone caught trespassing would be arrested and charged without fail. Some of them suggested armed guards were still patrolling the area.
The airstrip was in fact fully functional all year long, and served as a very private landing spot in the south of England. It was staffed all year, too, although most of the workers actually stayed in an underground complex, only coming up to deal with those landing and taking off.
Whenever someone landed, the place buzzed with activity. Whoever was arriving usually supplied their own security staff to maintain the area, which was made evident by the armed guards who stood at the entrance and waved me through.
I took the bike into the open hanger and switched off the engine.
"You took your damn time," Tommy said from a nearby chair, his feet up on the table beside him.
I took notice of the sandwich in his hand, the wonderful smell of bacon wafted toward me and my mouth watered. "Yes, you look incredibly pained," I said.
I turned and took in the jet that sat idly on one side of the huge hanger, and was surprised to see a young girl exit the plane. "This is awesome," she squealed and almost jumped down the stairs connecting the jet to the hanger floor ten feet below.
"Kasey," I said with surprise, and turned to Tommy. "You decided it was a good idea to bring your daughter."
Before he could answer, Kasey raced over to us. "What's the plane called?" she said with obvious excitement.
"It's called a Pegasus, or a Pegasus 1488, to give it the full name."
"It's amazing," she said. "I've never seen a plane like it."
The Pegasus was an incredible feat of engineering. Its owner, like most of the truly powerful members of Avalon, was probably four or five generations of technology ahead of anything humans had access to. The jet was a sort of amalgamation of a Concorde at the front and an SR-71 Blackbird at the rear. I'd been inside it several times on long journeys, and was fully aware of the luxury it contained.
"It has beds in there, Dad."
"I know, Kase" he said with a smile. "She's a bit excited," he told me.
"Never would have guessed. I thought eleven-year-olds were meant to be on their way to being permanently surly."
"She likes flying." Tommy grinned. "Kase, why don't you go on board and pick yourself out a chair."
She didn't need to be told twice, and was off like a shot, taking the steps two at a time until vanishing back inside the fuselage.
"What the hell?" I asked.
"I couldn't leave her with Olivia. It's too dangerous."
"Does Olivia know whom we're going to see?"