Page 9 of Quiver of Cobras
‘And the sphere?’ I asked in a low, urgent voice.
‘It’s safe. Rubus won’t find it. Not now.’
I passed a hand over my face in relief. At least that was something.
Morgan’s eyes searched mine. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked gruffly. ‘Has he hurt you?’
‘No. Lots of bluster and threats but I’m fine.’ I gazed at him. ‘More to the point, how are you? You could have died back there.’
‘It’ll take more than a few vampire-crazy humans to finish me. You should know that by that now. I have a sore head and my insides feel like a bullet has bounced around them – probably because it did. I’ll live, thanks to what you did to bring down that sniper.’
He squeezed my arm and the gesture squeezed at my heart. I reckoned the pair of us needed a good shag before I melted into a puddle by his feet. It felt damned amazing to be thought of as Morgan’s saviour; surely I deserved some decent sex in return.
Unfortunately, he had other plans. ‘Now, listen. I’ve rounded up the troops. There are a dozen Fey loyal to me outside. As soon as we leave here, those two hefting lumps will see me and make a move. They can’t actually hurt either of us although I’ll be expecting a lot of noise. We can cope with that. You’ll be back at the Metropolitan Bar within the hour, Maddy.’
Suddenly I took a step back. ‘I can’t do that. I have to stay with Rubus.’
Morgan stilled. ‘Why?’ His voice was completely flat and the warmth in his eyes vanished immediately.
I twisted my hands. ‘Because he’s dangerous! You told me what he was like morally but you failed to mention that he’s completely crazy as well. He’s desperate to get his hands on the sphere. Goodness knows what will happen when he fails. He said something about a Plan B. We need to know what that is. We need someone on the inside. I think that’s what I was doing all along when I was drug dealing for him. It’s not that I’m a superhero or a supervillain.’ I grinned at Morgan. ‘I’m a super spy.’
He raised his eyes briefly to the heavens. ‘And you think that Rubus is crazy,’ he muttered. His expression remained cool. ‘You want him.’
Good grief. He was as daft as his brother. ‘Sometimes I wonder who ties your shoes for you in the morning, Morgan. I don’t want Rubus. I want to stop Rubus.’
Morgan folded his arms across his broad chest. ‘He has been stopped. The sphere has been taken care of. There’s nothing to worry about any longer.’
‘He’s been stoppedtemporarily,’ I argued. ‘He’s not going to give up. He’s determined to save all the Fey and return us to Mag Mell, regardless of the consequences. Remember what Artemesia, your apothecary friend said? Forces unseen will lead me to places and people who are related to my memory loss. I was led to Rubus so I have to stay with him now.’
‘He found you,’ he snapped. ‘Not the other way around.’
‘Does it matter? He won’t stop at anything to become our glorious saviour. If he can’t locate the dragon sphere, he’ll find another way. He was prepared to flood this entire demesne with magic and effectively destroy it to achieve his goal. What if he finds another way that’s equally destructive? I would much rather toddle off without a backward glance in his direction but we can’t let him continue with whatever else he’s planning! If I stay with him, I can get him to trust me again. I know I can. With me on the inside, we’ll know his every move.’
‘And what,’ Morgan enquired, ‘will you do to get him to trust you?’
‘Whatever I can!’ I said, the words out of my mouth before I thought about them. When Morgan’s gaze shuttered, I realised what he thought I was referring to. ‘I don’t mean sex! I’m not going to open my legs for him.’
‘What if he demands it?’
I glowered. ‘I can look after myself.’
‘Apparently so.’
Our argument had been conducted in annoyed whispers but we obviously weren’t doing a good enough job, even with the noise from the running taps and the hand dryer masking us. There was a sudden thump on the door. ‘What’s going on?’ one of the Fey arsebadgers called.
I shoved Morgan into the nearest cubicle just in time. The Fey opened the door and looked inside. ‘Who were you talking to?’ he demanded.
‘Myself,’ I answered back. At his narrow-eyed look, I shrugged. ‘I’m the Madhatter.’
‘You’re Madrona. We’re not allowed to call you the Madhatter.’
I twirled round, flapping my arms. I needed the Fey to be distracted enough to focus on me – and not listen closely enough to realise there was another heartbeat only a metre away. ‘Madhatter!’ I sang out. ‘I’m the Maaaaaadhattter!’
‘Get out of there,’ he snapped. ‘Rubus is waiting.’
‘I love how you state the obvious with such a sense of discovery,’ I told him. The Fey growled at me. I patted him on the back and followed him out. ‘Were we friends before I got amnesia?’ I enquired.
‘No.’
