Chapter Twenty-Five
‘We’ve got a small problem, Inspector,’ Reed began.
‘Yeah?’ I shot back. ‘You just realised your boss is a homicidal maniac?’
Reed laughed. ‘That’s not news, Inspector. No, we have a problem, because your Kate Potter wouldn’t meet up with Troy Fairglass and that made him really sad.’
A laden weight hit my stomach but I worked to keep my tone casual. ‘And you care about Troy’s feelings because…?’
He snickered. ‘Cute. We know you know or else you wouldn’t have warned Kate off. But the thing is, Jingo is obsessed with you, Inspector. I don’t get it myself. You’re pretty and all that, but no woman is worth all this effort.’
My thoughts scattered and I tried to keep the conversation going. Obsessed with me? ‘You’re a charming guy, Reed. I sincerely hope you’re not married.’
‘I’m not.’ A beat. ‘You interested?’
‘Not even a little.’
Another snicker. ‘He wants you. He’s going to get you. It’s that simple. And if you don’t come to Kate’s nice little house, he’s going to slice her up with some scissors. He likes to slice women with scissors.’
I felt sick.
Suddenly Broadlake was front and centre in my mind, not with scissors in his hands, but garden shears. Fit for cutting flesh and bone alike.
I swallowed hard but my voice was steady as I said, ‘I’m on my way.’
‘Of course you are,’ he mocked. ‘Tick-tock, Inspector. We’ve got our eyes on you. Don’t deviate from the route I’m sending you. We don’t want you getting lost.’
He hung up and moments later a map came through to my phone with a route highlighted. I grimaced. That wasn’t a route. It was a kill box drawn in sunshine yellow.
Fuck.
I couldn’t call it in, not as protocol dictated. Jingo had cops in his pocket. He’d know if I called it in.
‘Channing!’ I hollered from my office. ‘We’re moving.’
He met me in the corridor. ‘What’s up?’
‘Jingo has Kate. We’re going in. It’s going to be messy. You got your baton?’
He nodded, expression grim.
‘When did you last recharge?’ The last thing I wanted was to take him into battle if he was scraping the bottom of his magical barrel.
‘Only a few days ago. I’m good to go, sir.’
He might have been, but I hadn’t recharged in weeks. I’d taken one of Amber’s special ORAL potions a few weeks ago, but if I wasn’t already, I’d soon be operating on magical fumes.
I hesitated. Should I bring Channing with me? I was dragging him into danger, and we weren’t following correct procedure.
‘I haven’t called it in. We’re not playing by the book here,’ I warned.
‘I’m coming with you all the same,’ he insisted. ‘Sir,’ he tacked on belatedly.
‘Good,’ I said. ‘You’re driving.’
Robbie didn’t argue when I told him I needed him and his team to follow behind me discreetly. The grinding of his teeth, though, told me he wasn’t happy about it. He and his men pulled on their leather tabards and strapped on so many weapons that it made Ivan look ill-prepared at Wraithmore.
When the ogres were all armed to the teeth, Robbie took a photograph of the route displayed on my phone, then started barking orders to his men.
‘Loki,’ I said to my familiar as I moved towards the garage where Channing’s car waited. ‘I need you airborne. Be my eyes and ears. My aerial support.’
He puffed his chest out and nodded. ‘I fly,’ he said and launched himself into the air. The bond between us was somehow more prominent than it usually was at rest. Both of us were more aware of the other and holding the bond tight, aware of the impending danger.
I hoped he couldn’t sense that I was trying to keep him out of the way, out of Jingo’s reach. He’d kidnapped my caladrius before, and I wasn’t giving him a second chance.
I slid into Channing’s car and let him get behind the wheel.
The atmosphere in the car was tense and heavy.
We both knew we were driving willingly into a trap, but Jingo didn’t know the full depth of my power.
Didn’t know I was a sub-wizard, didn’t know I had a car full of ogres behind me, and didn’t know about the deadly contact poison in my left ankle holster.
He was expecting me, and he was expecting a fight, but he wasn’t prepared for the depth of it – or so I hoped.
Next to me, Channing’s arms were locked stiff and his knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
‘We’ll be okay,’ I promised.
‘It’s Kate I’m worried about,’ he admitted. ‘She’s a good person.’
‘She is. She’ll be fine. We’ll make sure of it.’
We fell silent. The engine noise was loud and the road was too open. I felt naked, exposed. There was a reason why they’d got us on this particular route; they had eyes on us every step of the way, and that didn’t feel good.
‘It’s too quiet,’ Channing muttered.
‘Keep your eyes open. We aren’t just driving into a trap; we’re driving through one.’
Channing’s jaw tightened but he said nothing else. Just kept driving, body rigid with fear and tension. I didn’t blame him one bit. My own stomach was churning, fear for Kate riding high. If Jingo had hurt her …
I looked in the rear-view mirror to steady myself. Behind us, far enough back to look like strangers, was Robbie’s Land Rover. I only caught it when we turned and headlights arced in the rear-view mirror for half a second before dropping back.
Robbie. Ivan. Maktel. Hanlon. A car full of trouble. My trouble.
I appreciated the backup that I hoped Jingo wouldn’t see coming.
Loki circled high above us, a small white shape against the bruised sky, wings slicing the air.
Through our bond, I felt his tension like a taut wire between us, felt his focus and anger and, yes, a little of his fear.
Overriding that was a sharp protective urge that warmed me.
It was nice to have someone who cared so much.
We were close. The route had taken us deliberately out of Chester and into the countryside, but now we were a few minutes out from Kate’s house, if that. It wouldn’t be long until we rolled into suburbia.
Kate’s street was in the nice part of town, where the houses had neat gardens and expensive cars and people who didn’t know that monsters were real, let alone that they lived amongst us.
Channing glanced at me. ‘Kate’s going to be all right, right?’
He knew I couldn’t answer that question any more than he could. I had a lot of powers, but seer heritage wasn’t among them. All the same, I nodded. ‘We’ll see to it that she is.’
And if Kate wasn’t already dead, we’d fight the devil himself to keep her alive.
I should have asked Reed for proof of life. Stupid. A stupid mistake. My emotions were ruling me and they had no place here. I did my best to set them aside.
The silence came back, thick and uncomfortable. I let it remain. We were both in our own heads, counting down the moments until we arrived at the house that only days ago had been the crime scene that kicked all of this off.
I was thinking of that scene when Loki’s mind slammed into mine.
A man in field! Device!
A jolt of fear shot down my spine as he sent the image to accompany his words.
It wasn’t a photograph, but an aerial snapshot, sharper than any camera, more visceral.
A lone field to our left, dead winter grass flattened and muddy. One man standing too still in the open, hood up.
In his hands: something black and boxy with wires.
A trigger.
A detonator.
BOMB! Loki shrieked into my skull as I reached the same conclusion.
My blood turned to ice.
‘Bomb!’ I shouted aloud. ‘Brace!’
Channing’s head snapped towards me, eyes wide. ‘What?’
‘Air shield!’ I barked, already wielding my intention and crafting a shield of air to protect us from the fuckery that would follow.
There was no time to explain, no time to soften it, no time for anything except survival. The intention was formed, hot and bright, and I shoved it out of my body with brute force, surrounding us in a circle of thick air.
The sphere of compressed air wrapped around us in a heartbeat, strong as tempered glass.
Channing’s mouth opened in a shout that became nothing as the world exploded.
The blast was a roar and a punch. My heart leapt in my chest, and the car lifted.
For a terrifying moment we were weightless, spinning, tumbling through the air like a toy thrown by a tantrumming toddler.
The air shield held.
It flexed, absorbing the shockwave, keeping the shrapnel out, keeping the fire away from our soft flesh. The sound was muffled and distant, as if we were underwater.
We collided with the earth, and the force slammed us sideways.
The seatbelt bit into my chest and neck, and my head struck the airbag which had deployed. I held my focus and the air shield as the car rolled. The air shield was all that was keeping us alive.
Channing’s head whipped back and he cried out. There was no time to promise it would be fine, and I didn’t want to lie to him either, because I wasn’t sure it was going to be fine.
The car struck a tree, ending our dramatic roll. Metal shrieked against thick plant matter. The plant won. The tree stood. Silence reigned.
But it was not true silence. We were both panting, and there was the hiss of the engine and distant muted shouting.
The ogres, I thought. They would come in hot. They wouldn’t pussyfoot around now Jingo had changed the rules.
My breath sawed in and out.
I could taste the sharp, coppery tang of blood, and I didn’t know if it was mine or if Channing’s blood had splattered onto me.
‘Channing?’ I called, trying to twist in my seat to see him.
‘I’m okay,’ he gasped, voice unnaturally high. ‘I’m okay. Fucking hell—’
‘Look at me,’ I ordered, forcing my own voice to steady. ‘Are you bleeding? Are you hurt?’
He laughed somewhat hysterically. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I think my soul left my body for a moment there.’
His mention of souls calmed me. That was why we were here, after all: Jingo and his damned body swaps. We were here to stop him. We needed to stop him. We needed to save Kate and free Troy Fairglass.
I eyeballed Channing. A cut over his brow, but otherwise he looked okay. ‘You’re fine. I’m fine. Let’s keep it that way.’