Page 19 of Tattered Huntress
‘You’re a spider’s silk addict!’
I shrugged. ‘And how does that have anything to do with you? At least I’m not a bully.’
He glared at me, his expression simmering with rage, but suddenly I couldn’t tell whether his anger was directed at me or at himself. Twisting emotions flitted across his face; he seemed to be wrestling with some sort of internal argument.
He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again and spoke, his voice was calm. ‘It might sound glamorous, but treasure hunting is dangerous. You got lucky with the necklace – although I will admit that you did well to find it. But finding the Loch Arkaig treasure won’t be the same. It will be exhausting and you’ll be putting your life at risk. You could end up seriously hurt – or worse. I’ll call your boss and tell him I was wrong, get you reinstated. I’m sorry you lost your job but I can make it right.’
I understood he was making concessions and I appreciated the apology, but his assumption that he had ultimate control over what happened to my job – and therefore me – irritated me even more. ‘Don’t tell me that Hugo Pemberville is afraid of a little competition from a pathetic junkie like me? I’ll prove to you that finding the necklace wasn’t a fluke, so don’t be upset when I find the Loch Arkaig treasure before you.’
He laughed mockingly. ‘You don’t seriously think that you can beat me? I’ve got a team of people and years of experience. You’ve got nothing.’
I stepped forward until we were so close that our noses were almost touching. ‘Well, we’ll have to see about that.’
‘I guess we will,’ he said softly. ‘But don’t come crying to me when you’re facing down an ogre and you’ve not slept for three days.’
‘Not going to be a problem.’
His velvet-blue eyes gazed into mine. ‘Tell me, Daisy Carter,’ he said softly. ‘Did you open the locket on the necklace?’
When I didn’t answer, he sniggered. ‘And that is why you’ll never succeed as a treasure hunter.’
‘Watch this space, posh boy,’ I returned. ‘You might be surprised.’
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly as he moved back. ‘I doubt it.’ His smirk grew wider. ‘Game on, princess. Game on.’
Chapter
Eight
Ihave never suffered from insomnia; I fall asleep at the drop of a hat, and I don’t lie awake at night fretting over past mistakes or future anxieties. Those sorts of thoughts only worry me during waking hours. Normally my head touches the pillow and I’m out for the count until my alarm goes off the next day.
Even the tumultuous day I’d just experienced didn’t change that. I got home, scrubbed myself clean in the shower and fell into bed without a second thought about my lost job, treasure hunting or Hugo Pemberville. Thirty seconds later, I was fast asleep. So far so normal.
Unfortunately, when the clock hit midnight, everything changed.
It was the tiny jabs in my cheek that woke me; it felt as though somebody was pricking me with a needle over and over again. It wasn’t painful but it was uncomfortable and seriously annoying.
In my sleep-fogged state, I wondered if I was getting toothache and was due a dreaded trip to the dentist. I raised myhand to my cheek to sleepily prod for any tender spots. That was when I heard the voice. ‘Oi! Watch it!’
I sat bolt upright, suddenly wide awake with my fists clenched and my eyes searching the dark room for the intruder. Nobody was there; my little bedroom looked the same as it always did.
Then there was a second voice. The first one had been female but this was definitely male. ‘Look what you’ve done! You’ve woken her up. For goodness’ sake, she needs her sleep.’
‘I’ll say,’ muttered the female. ‘Have you seen those bags under her eyes? If they get any bigger, she can use them to pack for a weekend away.’
What the actual fuck? I kicked off the duvet, leapt out of bed and spun around. ‘Who are you?’ I snarled. ‘More to the point,whereare you?’
‘She’s not too bright,’ the female voice said.
‘That’s mean, Hester.’
I heard a faint buzzing sound in my right ear, and a second later a tiny figure appeared in the air in front of my face. I jerked with shock and instinctively swatted it away. There was a high-pitched squeak from somewhere near my left ear, then peals of laughter. I swore, reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on to get a better look at my assailants. Even so, it took me a moment to find them.
The second one, the male, was sitting on my pillow rubbing his head. He was wearing red trousers, a cap at a jaunty angle, a striped shirt and a tie. He was also about two inches tall. My jaw dropped an inch. When a second figure flew off my shoulder to join him, I saw that his female companion was dressed in a black mourning dress akin to something Queen Victoria might have worn. She was also about two inches tall. My jaw dropped even further. ‘Wh – what?’
The tiny female flicked her hair. ‘I’m Hester. This is my brother Otis.’
Otis gave me a weak wave.
