Page 8 of Brimstone Bound
Tony nodded approvingly. ‘Pretty much. Our presence appeases those humans who are intelligent enough to be scared of the supes, but we don’t have any power. Any supes who step out of line are dealt with by their own kind. We direct lost tourists, stride around and maintain some sort of visibility and very, very occasionally convene meetings to ensure that peace is being maintained.’ He sent me an arch look. ‘You can see why most detectives don’t stick around for long. It’s not exactly a thrill a minute.’
‘Why do you stay?’ I asked, genuinely curious.
He smiled. ‘I like a cushy, hassle-free life and a guaranteed pay check at the end of the month.’
I watched him. There was something about his tone of voice – something about Tony himself – that made me think there was far more to his existence in Supernatural Squad than he was letting on. Working out what that was would give me something to do over the next two weeks.
Before I could press him any further, a hulking figure stepped out in front of us, appearing as if from nowhere. ‘Anthony Brown,’ he growled. Definitely a werewolf then. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Just taking a stroll,’ Tony said cheerfully. ‘Upholding the law and keeping the peace. Usual sort of stuff.’
Curiosity getting the better of me, I gazed at the werewolf. He looked human for most of the part – until you examined him more closely. His thick dark hair curled in a way that seemed unnatural, and his chest and shoulders were far too broad for his short legs. One thing was certain: I wouldn’t want to meet him on a dark moonlit night.
‘Who’s she?’
‘This is D’Artagnan,’ Tony said. ‘She’s visiting for a couple of weeks.’
‘Actually,’ I said, ‘my name is…’ Tony elbowed me sharply in the ribs, and I gave a surprised oomph.
The werewolf looked amused. ‘Giving her the grand tour, are you? You should bring her round to the club later. She’s a tasty-looking little thing.’
I resisted the temptation to step back. The sudden hungry glint in the wolf’s eyes was remarkably intimidating.
‘What do you think, darling?’ he asked. ‘Do you fancy a bit of fur?’ His skin twisted and undulated across his cheekbones. I couldn’t stop myself gasping. A second later, muddy brown fur sprang up across his face. There were even whiskers.
Tony tapped his foot. ‘Yes, yes. It’s an impressive party trick. You should save it for the tourists.’
‘Twenty quid for a photo.’ The wolf opened his mouth, baring his sharp teeth. Then he lunged, snapping his jaws as if he were attacking.
I blinked – but I remained where I was. ‘No, thank you,’ I said primly.
The wolf’s fur melted away, his expression suddenly disinterested. ‘You can’t say I didn’t try.’ He glanced at Tony. ‘Full moon in five days,’ he said.
‘I’m quaking in my boots.’
The werewolf returned to the shadows at the side of the pavement, and Tony and I continued on our way. I hadn’t realised I’d been holding my breath until we were well past him. I expelled the air in a loud rush and felt a brief ache in my lungs.
‘Was that your first face-to-face encounter with a wolf?’ Tony asked.
I nodded.
‘Then you did alright,’ he said grudgingly. ‘Marsh back there is all huff and bluster. He puts on a show and makes sure no humans veer into forbidden territory, but he’s not a bad sort. He’s one of the Sullivans. He shouldn’t be out here doing this sort of low-level grunt work, but last week he got into a fight with a wolf from the Carr Clan so now he’s doing his penance.’ Tony’s mouth flattened into a thin line, ‘As I said, the supes sort out their problems in-house.’
‘Why did you stop me from telling him my real name?’
‘Because our job is to fit into the supes’ way of doing things. Not the other way around. And the supes’ way is that you don’t tell an outsider your real name unless you absolutely trust them. They believe that names have power. Fluff-headed nonsense, if you ask me, but when in Rome…’
‘He knewyourreal name.’
A trace of a smile crossed Tony’s mouth. ‘Yeah. But I’m a foolish old man who’s been here too long. I gave my name freely in the hope that it would encourage the supe community to trust me. Needless to say, it didn’t work.’
I frowned but, before I could say anything, he jerked his head towards the small shop opposite us. Sullivan Sandwiches. ‘Here we go. The best roast beef you’ll get this side of the Thames.’
The bell jangled as Tony pushed open the door, and the rich smell of well-cooked beef wafted towards us. A young woman smiled at us from behind the counter. I stared. She had very sharp teeth.
‘Cassidy, baby! How are you this fine morning?’ Tony cried.
Cassidy? Was that her real name? I glanced around and noted the wide array of meat on offer. Oh. Butch Cassidy.
