Page 74 of Waifs And Strays
‘You didn’t really think I wouldn’t have kept some wolfsbane back, did you?’ Brassick smiled. ‘This really is extraordinarily powerful stuff.’
Thane’s knees gave way and he fell to the floor. Shit.
I vaulted over his body. Brassick slashed the knife through the air, catching my arm and cutting through my flesh. Blood dripped from the wound but he’d not cutanything vital.
I took a step backwards and my hand stretched behind me onto the worktop until my fingers curled around one of the blood-filled containers. I smashed it against the marble, sending a spray of blood across the kitchen, then I jabbed the jagged glass at Brassick.
He waved the knife at me before angling it downwards: he meant to hurt Thane in the same way that he’d hurt Nick, to draw my attention away and force me – again – to make a choice. This was why it was better to work alone; I didn’t have to worry about anyone else’s health and wellbeing when I was by myself.
In an ideal world, I’d have brought Brassick to his knees then questioned him properly about his demonic plans, but Thane’s vulnerability didn’t allow for such niceties and there wasn’t time to come up with a useful alternative. I needed to end this as quickly as possible.
I leapt upwards again, this time not aiming for Brassick but jumping onto the kitchen counter. I smashed more of the glass containers containing Nick’s blood then kicked the sealed wooden shutters as Brassick stabbed downwards. ‘Left!’ I shrieked at Thane.
He rolled in the nick of time, although the kitchen knife still slid into his shoulder. He grunted loudly. I kicked the wooden shutters again and only then did Brassick register the threat. He abandoned Thane and turned to me. ‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Don’t?—’
I didn’t hear the end of the sentence as I kicked the shutters once again. The third time was the charm: the wood splintered and, although the shutters didn’t bounce open, I’d done enough to cause the vampire mortal damage. A bolt of sunlight blasted through the crack and landed squarely on his forehead.
The results were almost instantaneous.
The patch of pale skin hit by the sunshine blackened and I actually heard it sizzle. Brassick’s mouth opened in a silentscream and his eyes widened and momentarily glowed red. He dropped the knife as his body stiffened into a rigid, scarecrow-like figure then he jerked and, bizarrely, grinned. Before I could draw breath, his flesh burst into flames as if he’d been doused in accelerant.
I threw myself at Thane, grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the way as the vampire combusted. The last thing I saw before Brassick’s bones turned to ash was him forming a circle with the thumb and index finger of his right hand. He used the middle finger of his left hand to slash through it, a burning facsimile of the red graffiti that Umbra had sprayed around the city.
A beat later, there was nothing left beyond a pile of burning ash and bone.
Umbra were finished.
Chapter
Thirty-One
Ihadn’t appreciated how much paperwork was involved when you killed somebody in Coldstream and their death wasn’t conducted under the secretive guise of an assassin. Even though Brassick’s death had been deemed both just and necessary, I still had to spend more time than any reasonable person would have considered worthwhile filling out forms and explaining my actions.
Thankfully, MacTire and his wolves had tidied up the scene at the building where Nick had been held captive, otherwise I might have been buried for good under the weight of bureaucracy and Captain Montgomery’s desire to cross every t and dot every i. I’d also been forced into meetings with several high-faluting vampires who wanted detailed explanations about what had happened. They’d extracted several bound promises from me that I wouldn’t breathe a word about the Understream tunnels and that I wouldn’t enter them again without stamped approval.
Thane had been fortunate: he got to spend three days recovering in hospital instead of dealing with all the damned form filling.
The morning of the winter solstice was the first chance I’d had to relax properly since all this crap had started. It was cold but sunny enough for me to drag a chair into the front garden, sit with a cup of coffee and watch the world go by. Umbra had been, by both name and nature, a thing of shadows and darkness, which made me almost as grateful for a splash of winter sunshine as She Who Loves Sunbeams.
All five cats were gathered around me. There had been a minor stand-off as He Who Crunches Bird Bones and He Who Must Sleep vied for my lap, but in the end they both backed off when She Without An Ear nabbed it first. She curled up into a tight ball while I clutched my mug and resisted scratching her ears. I knew my place.
I was, however, touched that all five of them were still worried enough about me to stay close. It was almost like the old days when I’d sometimes returned home after a particularly gnarly assignment and they’d crowded me with warm feline concern.
I murmured inanities to them about the weather and my plans for the day. He Who Roams Wide sent me an arch look, judging my level of conversational skill and clearly finding it wanting. Before I could respond with a snarky comment abouthisconversation, he sprang up and hissed.
She Without An Ear tensed and dug her claws into my legs before leaping off my lap and disappearing. The others followed her lead, although He Who Crunches Bird Bones opted to hide under a nearby bush rather than retreat inside.
I gulped down the last of the coffee. By the time I’d placed the mug on the grass next to my chair, the gleaming black car had rolled up outside my garden gate.
I stayed where I was. I’d have been disappointed if I’d not received another visit from the MacTires but I was surprised that it was happening so quickly. I hoped that didn’t mean badnews about Nick, who was still recovering in the furry fold of his uncle’s pack.
Samantha was in the driver’s seat, her expression inscrutable, though she did turn her head and nod slightly. That was probably as much an acknowledgement of what I’d achieved with Thane’s help as I was likely to get from her.
The rear passenger door opened and Alexander MacTire stepped out. He was a different man to the one I’d seen last time. The pained angst and barely contained fury had vanished and in their place was a more sober man, one who’d been confronted by his vulnerabilities. I wondered if the experience would change him in the long term. Only time would tell.
He strode to the gate and paused, raising his eyebrows in silent question. Well, that was certainly different. ‘You may enter,’ I said, amused by my imperious tone.
He unfastened the latch and walked up the narrow path. I got to my feet and met his gaze. ‘Morning.’
