Authors: Debbie Johnson
‘Plan?’ I asked, brazenly stepping out of the bath, noticing that he’d now clamped his eyes shut. Wuss.
‘Dublin,’ he said, voice strained. ‘We go to my house in Dublin.’
‘And how do we get there?’ I asked, using the towel to rub my hair dry. ‘Magic portal? The wings of Pegasus?’
‘No, he said. ‘Ryanair.’
We travelled at night, for the sake of the vampires, and arrived at Gabriel’s Dublin home just before one in the morning. Carmel had been knocking back the miniatures on the flight, and was still upset at my disappearing act.
‘He smashed everything in his apartment. The flat-screen, the Xbox. All the glasses in the bar. And I texted you, like, a dozen times,’ she said. ‘I was worried sick.’
‘I’m sorry about that,’ I answered, ‘but I couldn’t get much of a signal in Fairy Land. I’ll have a word with Vodafone next time, see if I can upgrade my tariff.’
‘No need to get all sarky on me,’ she snapped, as the car pulled up into Merrion Square. I gave her a very human shove out of the door, grabbed my backpack before following her out, and we stood looking around us.
Gabriel’s home was a magnificent Georgian town house, tucked between others like it in a red-brick terrace. The buildings were clustered around a park that would probably be very pretty in daylight. The pavements were empty, with a few sleek and expensive-looking cars parked alongside them.
‘Crikey,’ said Carmel. ‘This is pretty fucking awesome. You remember that time we came here with work?’
I nodded. I did indeed. Against my better judgement she’d persuaded me to join her for a journalists’ shindig in Dublin, which involved less of seeing the fair city than getting hammered in most of the fair city’s excellent pubs.
‘That night in McDaid’s, when I snogged the fiddle player?’ she continued, obviously reliving a happy memory. Mine? Not so happy, and mainly involving the wandering hands of our Guinness-drunk picture editor. Wandering hands are an inconvenience to most women. To me, they are a potential catastrophe. Ah, fun times.
Gabriel unlocked the door to the house, and we walked into a long hallway. Protected, as usual. Gabriel led, with Finn and Kevin at his side. Then Carmel and I took our places behind them, carrying our bags, followed by Connor and the vampires. In fact, once I started to ponder it, I realised I hadn’t been left alone for a single minute since all this started, apart from my brief excursion into the Otherworld. It did make me feel safe, but also slightly claustrophobic. I’m used to being on my own, and once all this was over – one way or another – I’d be locking myself in a darkened room for a very long time.
Carmel and I were told to wait in the corridor, as the front door closed behind us. Ahead, Gabriel and his men were carrying out some kind of security check, and outside, we could hear Luca and Morgan doing the same. After a few minutes they all returned to the hallway, and as none of them were covered in blood or carrying severed limbs, I assumed they’d met with no resistance.
‘No hostiles,’ said Luca, slinking back inside the house. Gabriel nodded, frowning, still scanning around him, slightly taller than he should be.
‘All clear here as well,’ he said. ‘Which feels wrong. I expected trouble. Time’s running out, and they must be getting desperate – so where are they? Where’s the ambush?’
His tone made me feel jumpy, and I gazed up the stairs, half expecting one of those ‘Death to the Mother of the Mortals’ types to come hurtling down at me. But actually, I hadn’t seen one for days. Not since we’d been chased through Sefton Park, in fact. He was right – it did feel wrong. They’d been at Lime Street, chasing us through the tunnels until Gabriel made them go splat. They’d been at my flat, waiting. So where were they now? Strangely, I felt worse for not being surrounded by brainwashed assassins baying for my blood.
‘
They are in retreat
,’ said that voice in my head. The same one as before; the one made of velvet. ‘
I commanded it. There will be no attack upon you, Goddess
.’
I tried not to show any reaction, especially as Gabriel was looking right at me. Now would so not be a good time for a mind-link moment. The voice in my head belonged to me – it was private, a Goddess-to-mystery-shopper kind of thing. Gabriel knew way too much about me already, and I had the feeling that another man in my brain would send him over the edge. He’d expand to the size of the Statue of Liberty and lock me in a trunk for the rest of my life, all in the name of keeping me safe.
‘
Why?
’ I said, or, rather, thought, all the time trying to keep my expression bland.
‘
Because there has been enough death
,’ the voice said. ‘
Now is the time for life. I would rather talk to you than kill you, Lily
.’
Fair enough. I liked the sound of that. Especially as talking to me was something Gabriel only did as a last resort. He was more of the ‘sit down, shut up, do as I say’ kind of guy. He could justify his strong, silent behaviour as much as he liked, but at the end of the day he was just stupidly bossy. Perhaps he couldn’t help it, having been raised as a High King and all. But I – thanks to him – was raised by a not very pleasant mortal. One who also expected me to sit down, shut up and do as I was told. I’ve had a lifetime of being ordered around, which isn’t very dignified. Not for anyone, and certainly not for the Goddess, if that’s what I really was.
‘
You are the Goddess. Never doubt it
,’ said the voice. ‘
You have the power of choice. Yours to use
.’
I nodded to myself – to the voice. It was instinctive, to respond in some way, but obviously looked pretty weird to anyone watching me. Which Gabriel, of course, always was. It was his life’s mission.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked, taking hold of my shoulders so hard I could feel his fingers digging deep into the flesh beneath my coat.
‘Yes. And get your hands off me – right now!’ I said, my voice louder and harsher than I’d meant it to be. His fingers dropped away, and the tension level in the hallway ratcheted up a few notches. I heard Luca snigger behind me, muttering something about trouble in paradise.
‘You can shut up as well!’ I snapped, whirling round and poking him in the chest. Which admittedly hurt my finger a lot more than his chest.
‘Why are we here, Gabriel?’ I asked. ‘What’s the master plan, oh great King? Or don’t you even have one? This lot seem to follow you round like lapdogs, but I wouldn’t mind knowing what’s next in your grand vision, if it’s not too much trouble?’
There was a strained silence, and Finn couldn’t have looked more shocked if I’d slapped him. Kevin was shaking his head at my blatant disrespect, and even Carmel was biting her lip nervously. It could be possible that I’d overstepped the line a tiny bit. Gone a smidgeon too far.
Hey. Even goddesses make mistakes.
I refused to back down, despite Gabriel’s ever-expanding presence before me. His head was brushing the ceiling and his shoulders were so broad they almost touched the walls on either side. Everyone but him was blanked from my vision, and I felt like Alice in Wonderland, as though I was getting smaller instead of him getting bigger.
It was a mind-twisting sight, and ever so slightly terrifying.
‘You’d better calm down,’ I said. ‘Or you’ll demolish the building.’
The next afternoon, I woke up in a decadently large four-poster bed, wrapped in a silk-covered duvet. Small men with pointy hammers were living inside my brain, apparently mining for coal. My mouth was dry, and I was desperate for the loo. I half fell out of bed, and staggered to the en suite bathroom. My feet were sore from too much dancing, and there was a large mystery bruise on my right hip. I’d seen those before. They usually sprang from excessive alcohol consumption, and my ensuing loss of all spatial awareness. I’d clearly been doing some hard-object surfing the night before.
I groaned, sluiced water from the cold tap over my face, and into my mouth. I looked into the mirror, and immediately regretted it. Dark circles. Pale skin. Hair in backwards-through-bush mode. The type of face that should be plastered on the side of alcopop bottles to turn teens teetotal.
I dragged on some clothes from my backpack, and stumbled to the room next door. Carmel was splayed across the bed, covers draped haphazardly over her, looking even worse than I did. I could see she was naked apart from her shoes, and her eyes were caked shut with last night’s mascara.
‘Help me,’ she muttered. ‘I think I’ve gone blind.’
‘No. You just need a baby wipe,’ I said. Ever the professional, she’d taken two bottles of water and a can of Diet Coke to her room with her. They stood on the bedside table, next to a blister pack of paracetamol.
As I grabbed one of the bottles and sloshed down a couple of painkillers, she emerged fully from the sheets.
‘Is your hair always like that in the morning, or did you stick your finger in a plughole last night?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know. I might have done. How are you?’
‘I woke up with the world’s worst hangover.’
‘You’re lucky that’s all you woke up with,’ she said, crawling upright and making three attempts to get the top off the remaining water bottle. Those sports caps can flummox the best of us.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean Luca. Jesus, he was persistent. I don’t know how you managed to keep saying no … mainly no, at least.’
I grimaced, feeling a trickle of remembrance about last night seep through the cracks in my brain. Oh yes. Luca. Bare-chested, as usual. Golden skin, lots of it. Muscles, even more. Me not quite keeping my hands to myself. The disapproving glances of Finn and Connor, who’d been left on babysitting duty. A lot of crazy jiving to Doors songs. Luca lifting me up and dancing me across the room to ‘People Are Strange’, my legs wrapped around his hips. Luca’s very obviously turned-on boy bits grinding into me, making me feel all squishy and wriggly … and … oh
God
. How bloody embarrassing! I’d behaved like the school slut at the Christmas disco, and in front of everyone, too. At least Gabriel had gone to bed by then.
‘Fuck!’ I said, falling on to the bed next to Carmel. She stroked my hair and made sympathetic noises. ‘I feel like such an arse. I can’t believe I did all that … stuff. I’m never drinking again.’
‘Of course you are,’ she said. ‘And it wasn’t that bad. Just a bit of touchy-feely. I don’t care what they say, you’re only human, and he is hotter than hot. It’s not like you’ve been sleeping around all these years, is it? You deserve a bit of fun.’
‘Not that much fun. And not here, in Gabriel’s house. That’s … icky. He’ll go nuts.’
‘How will he know? He was the party pooper who left early.’
‘Believe me,’ I groaned. ‘He’ll know. And he won’t be happy. I didn’t do anything else, did I?’
‘Nah,’ she replied. ‘Not for lack of trying on Luca’s part. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to eat you or screw you or both. But you remained steadfast and true, and tottered off back to your room about four. I don’t think the Serious Squad would have let anything major happen, anyway. Finn and Connor were in full-on serve-and-protect commando mode all night. Couldn’t get either of them to dance at all. Even to “Groove is in the Heart”. I’m rethinking my crush after that.’
There was a polite knock on the door, then a pause. Carmel shouted, ‘Go away! I’m not here!’ and slid back under the covers until her head disappeared from view. The door opened, and Gabriel’s face appeared around it.
‘Are you decent?’ he asked.
‘Depends on your definition …’ she muttered from beneath the sheets, sticking out one hand in a wave. ‘Morning, Gabriel.’
‘Good morning, Carmel. I take it you enjoyed yourself last night? Is there any chance there’s a single drop of alcohol left in the house at all?’
‘No,’ she replied. ‘I puked it all up this morning.’
Gross.
Gabriel pulled a ‘yuck’ face at me, and I waited for it to change to the ‘you have failed me again, evil slut’ face.
‘Fancy coming with me for some breakfast? Or a late lunch, as it’s half past two?’ he asked, lifting one eyebrow.
‘If you don’t mind being seen with me in public,’ I said, gesturing at my shameful state.
‘I’ve been seen with worse,’ he replied, with a slow, easy smile that made something deep in my tummy do a flipflop. Easy-going Gabriel was back, when I least expected it.
I popped back to my room to grab my coat and bag, then we walked out into sub-zero sunshine. The air was crisp and cold and still, and you could see frost shimmering on the iron railings in the square. We walked along Grafton Street to Bewley’s, where a sign told me we’d find the best coffee in Ireland. You can’t argue with that kind of claim, and I was ready to drink gallons of the stuff.
As we entered, a small, dapper man wearing round, wire-rimmed glasses nodded at me. His hair was slicked back like it was the 1940s, and he wore a suit that looked like he’d been demobbed in it. I nodded back, automatically, and felt Gabriel’s hand tighten on my back. He stared the man down in such a ferocious way that I felt embarrassed for us all, and stormed off ahead to get a seat. So much for easy-going Gabriel.
‘What was that all about?’ I asked, as he joined me a few minutes later. ‘It’s not like he was about to kidnap me and sell me into slavery. Especially not looking like this.’
‘People aren’t always what they seem, Lily,’ he said, placating me with a mug of Ireland’s finest.
‘
He’s right
,’ said the voice in my head. ‘
They’re not. Like him, for example. Gabriel. Can you trust him?
’
I looked blankly ahead, desperate not to betray the whole secret-inner-conversation routine. The voice – maybe it was my subconscious, although the voice was male – had asked yet another good question:
Could
I trust Gabriel? I’d tied my fate to his with less research than I’d normally give to buying a new smoothie maker. Admittedly, I hadn’t had much choice at the time: events had moved a lot faster than my mental processes. When it had been a fifty-fifty between him and the death squad in black, I’d opted for him. But now, here, I could pause, breathe, allow my thoughts to catch up with themselves, and ponder that question: Could I trust him?