Page 16 of Gifted Thief
‘Once upon a time, you weren’t a decrepit old man.’ I winked. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll sort all this out.’
Chapter Four
From where I was standing, Taylor’s little house looked empty. The door was closed, the curtains were drawn and there were no signs of life. A few people scurried along the street, one or two of them with faces I recognised. Wanting to avoid getting drawn into a chat about the weather, I stayed in the shadows. I couldn’t afford to get distracted. You’re tough, I told myself. I nodded at the tiny voice inside my head that chirped: ‘And when the going gets tough, the tough get going.’
I could do this. Ihadto do this.
As soon as the street was clear of pedestrians, I darted forward. It was possible that the hulking brute had vanished when he realised Taylor wasn’t around. That wouldn’t help my cause; I needed to confront him. He knew who I was and that meant he probably also knew I was Sidhe. I would bet, however, that he didn’t know that I had no Sidhe Gifts to work with. I could play with that. Assuming he showed up again.
When I reached Taylor’s door and examined it, the splintered frame was easy to see. The lock itself was completely bust. I pushed open the door stealthily but it took only one touch for it to creak ominously, fall forward, drop off its top hinge and slam against the wall with a loud crash. So much for a discreet entry.
With little choice, I folded my arms and stalked inside, yelling as I went, ‘Hey Scarface! Where the hell are you?’ I injected a gravelly growl into my tone. Ha! Take that, scary enforcer man.
Without slowing down, I stormed through the hallway and into Taylor’s living room – to be greeted by a scene of utter devastation. He was normally fastidious about tidiness. When I lived with him after fleeing the Bull, he snapped at me for so much as leaving an empty glass on a table. If he could see how things looked now, he’d have palpitations. Oh wait. He already was having palpitations.
Taylor’s computer monitor, which normally sat neatly on the desk in the corner, was lying smashed in the centre of the room. There was a huge rent through his watercolour of the Aberdeen skyline, and there was paper everywhere. There was also a strong smell of cloves.
‘Where are you?’ I snarled. I marched over to the rug in the middle of the room and picked up one of the cushions from the sofa. It appeared to be stained with some sort of icky brown liquid. ‘You better have wide pockets,’ I shouted. ‘Because you’re going to have a hell of a dry cleaning bill!’
As threats went, that was hardly going to have a thug quivering in his boots. I had to do better. ‘You lily-livered guttersnipe! Come out and show yourself!’ Nope. That wasn’t much of an improvement.
Just then there was a thump. I froze and slowly lifted my eyes to the ceiling. There was another thump and, as I watched, a crack appeared in one corner of the plasterwork then snaked its way across. Okaaaay. Upstairs then.
Trying not to be terrified at what sort of creature could cause structural damage so easily, I balled up my fists. Bring it on.
I thumped over to the stairs. I wasn’t going to cause any cracks to appear but at least I could make myself sound unafraid. ‘Show yourself!’ I yelled.
A strange rumble reverberated through the house. I swallowed hard. That didn’t sound good. Before I could place one foot on the bottom stair, a vast shadow appeared. There, directly above me, was a monstrous dark shape. I couldn’t make out any features but, whoever he was, he was possibly the largest being I’d ever seen in my life. It was a wonder he’d ever made it up the narrow staircase. No doubt this was Taylor’s Wild Man then. The only saving grace was that I couldn’t see any sign of the aforementioned gun.
I ignored the rapid flutter of my heartbeat and frowned upwards. ‘I’m guessing you like to disco,’ I called up. ‘Because you’re doing a bloody good impression of the boogieman.’
For a moment there was silence, then I heard a tiny wheeze. Was that a good or a bad thing? ‘You like jokes?’ I asked. No response. I took a deep breath. ‘What does one penny say to the other penny?’
There was still no answer. I provided it for him. ‘Let’s get together and make some cents.’ Nothing. ‘Okay, okay. So it’s an American joke,’ I said. ‘It’s still good though, right? You can still understand it. And, you know what? This, right now?’ I waved my arm. ‘You being here? It’s making no sense. Your boss, whoever he is, will get his money. But seventy-two hours is ridiculous. We need more time. You tell him that you don’t scare me. You want a fight then I’m here and I’m ready.’
I puffed up my chest, emboldened by the continued silence from the enforcer. It was all for show, of course. I didn’t fight. Ever. ‘What’s your boss’s name again?’
Unsurprisingly, the monster-shaped man didn’t answer. I was going to have to be a damn sight cleverer than that. ‘Strong and silent, eh?’ I asked. ‘I’m betting you’re actually a real softie at heart. You probably hate violence.’ I took one step up. ‘You play the part of the bully but really you like puppies and pansies and crying at romantic comedies.’ I took another step up.
There was another loud rumble. I forced myself not to clutch at the banister as the entire house shook. It took me a moment or two to work out what the sound was. Shit. It was laughter. I shrugged.
‘Okay then. I pegged you wrong. Youdolike violence. Youarea bully. But you know what? Most bullies can be beaten. You probably live off your size. People run away in fear before you even raise your little finger. Well,’ I said, hoping to hell that I sounded bold and confident, ‘I’m not scared of bullies. Not any more. Until you’ve faced a vicious Sidhe teen girl, you don’t know the meaning of the word bully. So you? You’re nothing.’
He still didn’t bloody move. This was like talking to a brick wall. I stepped up once more. I was getting closer. And he was still a freaking statue.
‘I’m Sidhe, you know,’ I said casually, hating myself for bringing up my heritage. What the hell. I was leaving town anyway. ‘You want to know who my father was? Gale. From Clan Adair. He was a mean wanker with more power in his pinkie than you could ever even dream of.’ So I’d been told. I flicked a cold smile up at the statue. ‘Clan Adair might not be around any more but I’ve got his power. Iamhis daughter.’
He didn’t so much as flinch. My words might be tough but I didn’t have a single thing with which to back them up. I tossed back my hair. ‘So get your boss on the blower and tell him to back the hell off. If he does, he’ll get his money. But if it’s not money he’s really after, then tell me what he wants and I might just let you go.’
In a world of ridiculous notions, that was about the silliest thing I could have come up with. I was a third of this guy’s size. But I was banking on the fact that it was so ridiculous, it might actually work. Unfortunately I was wrong.
The huge man wheezed again. He started to move down towards me, one step then another. I ignored the tremble in my knees and held my ground. It was all I had. If I ever got out of this, though, I was going to wring Taylor’s neck.
The reek of cloves got stronger. I peered at his face but it was still shadowed. I lifted up the corner of my mouth in a rueful smile. ‘You’re going to be sorry if you come any closer,’ I told him.
I’d barely finished my sentence when he reached out with one huge hand and grabbed the front of my T-shirt, hauling me off my feet. Quashing my terror, I began to mumble incoherent nonsense. I screwed my eyes shut. ‘Qaleghqa'mo' jIQuch! LwlIj jachjaj’ I ignored my legs dangling helplessly in the air and waved my arms around as if I were about to cast a spell. Then I opened one eye and peeked.
His face was still shrouded in darkness but I could make out the scar that Taylor had mentioned. It was clearly an old wound but it was an angry red colour, cutting a jagged line from one side of his face to the other. His nose was large and bulbous but his eyes were nothing more than shaded chasms of black. Uh oh.
