Bound (7 page)

‘I know you’re awake,’ she said softly. Her voice had a Scottish lilt, almost lost but defiant.

Without opening his eyes Alex assessed his energy levels and the extent of his injuries.

‘You’re safe for now,’ the girl said.

He had just had a fight to the death, almost his own, with two living, moving, deadly creatures that should be nothing more than adornment on gothic buildings. What the hell was happening to him? A flash of realisation branded another image on his mind: Welby’s corpse, broken on the landing above. That fucker Peacock had gone medieval with all the wrong assumptions and left Patrick Welby dead and Alex lost and broken. All because of this fucking book. He should never have left Sydney.

The stone against his chest, like a second heart, pulsed in its locket. What would it be like to open the locket, wear it right against his skin? Power throbbed through the tiny shard. Only a third of the whole? If only it was a wishing stone and he could wish himself back to his peaceful house surrounded by paddocks and cows, with no knowledge of it or the grimoire or Welby. Or magic and gargoyles and idiot booksellers. Or beautiful, mysterious blondes.

‘You going to open your eyes and talk to me?’ Her voice had an amused edge. He could imagine her crooked smile and it fired his desire.

His eyes flickered open. Even his eyelids hurt. He lay on a sofa in the front room, the blonde kneeling beside him. She watched him with humour. ‘Hello there.’

‘Hey.’ He sounded like a wino after thirty years on the streets with meths and old cigarette butts.

‘I’ve patched you up a bit. Luckily there was a pretty good first aid kit in the kitchen. I’m sure you hurt all over, but it’s all pretty superficial, nothing broken. Which is a surprise, given what you were hitting.’

‘Lots of practice.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Really?’

Alex laughed softly and winced at the pain it put through his chest. ‘Well, not against … those things. It’s always been people before now. But the conditioning still counts, it seems. Who are you?’

‘You can call me Silhouette.’

‘Which isn’t your real name, I’m guessing.’

‘It’s what everyone calls me.’

‘Fair enough. I’m Alex. Alex Caine.’

They watched each other for several moments. Alex had to assume he had an ally in this girl, though he was still suspicious. She hadn’t helped with the fight, but she had fixed him up afterwards. At the very least she was no immediate enemy. He felt lost and keen to hang on to anyone friendly, but remained wary. More than anything he wanted to be back home, on his own. He was fairly sure he would never again enjoy the simplicity of the life he had known.

Without a word Silhouette stood and left the room. He heard her in the kitchen. She returned with a glass of water. ‘Hold this.’

He struggled up into a sitting position, grimacing at the needles of pain in his body. He gritted his teeth, took the glass.

Silhouette dug around in a small leather pouch on her belt and pulled out what looked like a screwed-up green leaf. She carefully unwrapped it and took out a pinch of dark brown sand between index finger, middle finger and thumb. She dropped the sand into the water, brushing every last grain off her fingers. It sank lazily, spiralling slightly. With a burst of tiny bubbles the water effervesced and turned dark purple. ‘Drink it.’

Alex looked at her with concern.

‘Alex, if I meant you harm I’ve had plenty of opportunity. Quickly, drink it all before it’s wasted.’

With a shrug he took a deep breath and gulped the glassful down. It was strong, like over-stewed tea, and so sweet it tasted thick like treacle. He winced as he forced himself to swallow the last of it.

Silhouette smiled. ‘You like that? That’s the definition of bittersweet, huh? It’s good for you.’

‘What is it?’

‘Not of this earth.’ She flicked him a wink.

Alex felt the liquid spread through him. His muscles relaxed, the burning in his skin and the ache in his bones softened. A lopsided smile twisted one side of his face. He felt inexplicably happy, almost silly. ‘Is nice,’ he slurred.

Silhouette rolled her eyes. ‘I gave you a bit too much perhaps.’

Alex giggled. ‘Not at all. In fact, I’d like a bit more …’ He was getting sleepy. As his eyes closed, he saw Silhouette shake her head. He was sure he heard her say ‘Humans’ in a derisive tone as darkness folded in from the edges of his vision.

When Alex woke he saw light outside. Silhouette was lying on the floor on her stomach, chin propped in her hands, reading a large leatherbound book that lay open before her. ‘Morning,’ she said, not taking her eyes from the pages.

‘Morning.’ He tentatively swung his legs off the couch, sitting up, assessing the level of hurt. Surprisingly little. His hands ached, his knuckles still throbbed, but the majority of his pain had eased. The cuts and bruises that weren’t covered by dressings looked several days healed. ‘How long have I been out?’

Silhouette flipped a page. ‘All night. ’Bout six or seven hours.’

‘Are you sure?’

She looked up at him. ‘That drink I gave you speeds healing. Feeling better?’

‘Immeasurably.’

‘Good.’ She turned back to the book.

Alex watched the ’sign swirl around the pages, snaking lazily across the patterned rug. He let his eyes move from the book to the girl, looking over her colours. She was physically gorgeous, more so than anyone he could remember, but she had an inner beauty too. A power and grace that stupefied him. He was desperate to look beneath her almost flawless facade and see what kind of person she was. What kind of power she had.

‘Careful there, big fella. You haven’t even bought me a drink yet.’

With a gasp Alex sat back, pulling his vision with him. ‘I’m sorry. I was just …’

‘I know. It’s cool.’

‘Who are you?’

Silhouette swept up into a sitting position, cross-legged on the rug, the grimoire forgotten beside her. She moved with a dancer’s grace, though Alex could see the fighter beneath. He found that unbelievably sexy. ‘You’re very new to all this, aren’t you?’ she asked.

‘All this?’ He knew what she meant, but was unsure how much to discuss.

She smiled. Gods, he liked it when she smiled. ‘You’re very wary, and that’s good. But you can trust me,’ she said.

‘Really?’

‘Sure. You can’t trust many people these days, but I promise I don’t mean you harm.’

‘You’ve been watching me.’

She nodded. ‘Yeah. You intrigued me.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, firstly because you were with Welby. We always keep a casual eye on him.’

‘We?’

Silhouette pursed her lips. That was even better than her smile. ‘It’s complicated,’ she said eventually.

Alex flexed his shoulders, stretched. His back popped softly. ‘So why are you interested in Welby?’

‘He’s an interesting guy. Well, he was.’

‘That fucker Peacock,’ Alex said with a wince. ‘I should go and settle that score.’

Silhouette smiled again. ‘Nice. Yeah, maybe you should. Exercise out the kinks from last night. No one would miss that desperate wannabe. Anyway, Patrick Welby is an old magus, by human standards. He’s been around a while, largely self-contained, furthering his studies, developing his skills. Nothing out of the ordinary. There are hundreds like him.’

Alex laughed, shook his head. When Silhouette raised an eyebrow he said, ‘Nothing. Just trying to get my head around … well, everything.’

‘The reason we watched Welby was because he suddenly seemed to increase his power a couple of years ago. We were wary, but he still seemed interested in his own thing, so we let him be. Just watched. He spent the last year or more travelling all over the place, clearly looking for something.’

‘I think that might have been me.’

‘But when he found you, all kinds of shit hit the fan. What happened?’

Alex decided to tell her everything. If she could help him get home, that would be great. If she could help him get rid of this book, even better. ‘I can see things,’ he said. ‘I can see magesign very clearly, apparently, and I read people. I see the shades around them.’

Silhouette paid close attention. ‘I know what you mean.’

‘Well, according to Welby, my vision is far greater than most, even his.’

Silhouette laughed heartily, her blonde hair swaying with her mirth. ‘Even his? He was little more than a conjuror.’ At Alex’s confused expression she waved a hand. ‘Never mind, go on.’

‘Welby knew about this book and he couldn’t read it. The whole thing is written in an eldritch text that no one could decipher. Welby thought I would be able to read it.’

‘And?’

‘He was right.’

‘Really? Well, well. Aren’t you the prodigy.’

‘I wish I wasn’t.’

Silhouette leaned back on her hands, legs still crossed. Alex couldn’t help his gaze roving over her flat stomach, the generous swell of her breasts, her lithely muscled shoulders. He flicked his eyes away, catching sight of her half-smile as he did so. ‘So what happened between you reading this book and the mayhem here last night?’ she asked.

‘I read the book and it sort of attached itself to me. I didn’t take it, but when I left I had it in my pocket. I tried to give it to Welby and leave and it reappeared. I can’t get rid of it. I tried to take it back to Peacock, but he’d already sent those fucking monsters here thinking Welby had stolen it.’

Silhouette offered no comment. She sat stock still, eyes narrowed. ‘And,’ she said quietly.

‘Welby seemed to think the book and this stone he had were connected. That’s all I know.’

‘The locket you took from him right before the fight?’

Alex nodded. ‘Wait a minute! You saw that and you didn’t help me?’

‘I wanted to see how you did. I might have stepped in if you were in danger of losing.’

‘Might have?’

She gave him a condescending look. ‘I don’t owe you anything, Alex Caine.’

That cut a little. ‘So why are you here now?’

‘I’m here because you fascinate me,’ she said. ‘You’re so young and green and completely unaware of what’s going on around you, yet you have an unusual power. Now you have that stone too, which only makes you stronger. The combination of strength, youth and ignorance can be a dangerous thing.’

Alex felt mildly offended. He was well aware of his ignorance in this world rapidly unfolding around him, but Silhouette did him a disservice. ‘You call me young. What are you? You look about twenty-four, twenty-five, but I’m guessing you’re not.’

Her face softened, her crooked smile returning. Alex reddened. ‘Have a look,’ she said.

His heart rate increased. He let his vision slip over her, gently seeking past the shields she held so naturally. She let him look a certain distance while keeping the majority of herself concealed. He felt like a schoolboy, allowed to put his hand under the blouse of his girlfriend behind the bike sheds. With a sharp intake of breath he sat back, pulling his vision away. ‘You’re …’

‘Older than Welby? Yes. You see what I mean about youth and ignorance?’

‘Sorry.’

‘It’s okay.’

Alex was confused again, unsure now how to interact with this girl. She was young and beautiful, yet also ancient. ‘Sorry,’ he said again, for want of anything else to say.

‘Just carry on as before,’ she said. ‘You were doing fine.’ Her face became serious again. ‘But we need to get back to the point. You said Welby felt the book and his stone were connected. You could read the book. What was it called?’

‘The Darak Uthentia …’

Silhouette’s hardening expression gave Alex pause. It appeared he didn’t need to explain any more. ‘And this is the book that’s bound to you?’ she asked.

‘Yeah. And the stone …’

She waved a hand at him. ‘I can imagine. Well, you’re certainly in the shit.’

‘Am I?’

‘You know you are. Don’t you?’

Alex looked down at his feet. ‘Yeah. I don’t know what to do.’

‘Did Welby set you up for this? I didn’t think the old poof had it in him.’

Alex sighed expansively. ‘No. At least, he claimed not. He got the stone, I don’t know how, and the stone led him to the book, but he couldn’t read it. He had his suspicions but he seemed genuinely sorry when he realised what had happened.’

Silhouette made a wry face. ‘Hmm. Little more than a conjuror, see? For all his studies, he wasn’t very smart.’

‘So what do I do?’

Silhouette stared hard at Alex. After a while he became uncomfortable, his cheeks flushing, but he refused to look away. ‘You’re a hard-arse, huh?’

He didn’t know if she was mocking him or not. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You’re a fighter — that much is obvious from what I saw last night. Is that all you do?’

‘Pretty much. I’m good at it, it makes me a solid living. I like to fight and I like the peace and quiet I earn between bouts.’

‘Your life has just flipped arse upwards, young Alex.’ She seemed genuinely sorry for him.

‘I know.’ He was desperate for this strange girl to help him. He needed someone to tell him what to do.

‘I don’t think I can help you,’ she said softly.

‘What?’

‘There’s so much you don’t understand and I think you’re too deep too soon. I can’t help you.’

Alex could feel himself trembling. He cursed his weakness. ‘Please,’ he said. ‘I don’t want any of this.’

Silhouette sat forward, taking his hand in hers. Her touch felt warm and electric, her fingers strong and soft at the same time. ‘Something tempted you.’

‘Tempted me?’

‘There’s always choice.’

He thought back to the dressing room in Sydney. The goons in the alley, Welby’s magic trick with the water, the element grimoire, his car at the hotel, the airport. His hand had been forced by Scarlet but he had been seduced all the way by Welby and what he might learn. He could have gone anywhere while Amir did his thing, but he’d followed Welby to London, intrigued. In his gut he’d mistrusted the man, but had let himself be dragged along. ‘I knew better,’ he said, his voice weak.

‘Then it was too late.’

He looked into the ice blue eyes under her blonde fringe. ‘Please help me!’

She looked down at their hands. ‘Alex, I really don’t think I can. But maybe my Clan Lord can.’

‘Clan Lord?’

She looked up again, that crooked smile making his stomach flutter. ‘You think you’ve seen a lot already? You better brace yourself. And I need to warn you, you’ll have to earn the right to talk to my Lord.’

Alex was happy for any thread of hope. ‘Sure, sure. If there’s someone who can help —’

‘It might kill you,’ she interrupted.

‘Kill me?’

‘I’m being honest with you. My Clan Lord
might
be able to help, but to find out might kill you.’

Did he really need to go through with any of this? He couldn’t give the book back to Peacock, so would that old fucker keep sending creatures like gargoyles after him? If the buck stopped with Peacock, then a path seemed clear. And he owed some kind of vengeance to Welby, surely. If he couldn’t get rid of the book, and the only real issue was Peacock, then take Peacock out of the picture and put the book on a shelf somewhere and forget about it. The thing hung heavy in his pocket. He got a sensation of warmth, almost as if it approved of his train of thought. He sensed it cajoling him, urging him on.

He looked up into Silhouette’s eyes. ‘Can you try to help me first?’

‘You got an idea? Call me crazy, but I kinda like you. I should warn you that you might not like me so much, the more you learn.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. My history might not sit well with you.’

That wasn’t something he wanted to consider just yet. ‘Well, you’ve done the right thing by me so far. I’m happy to leave it at that for the time being. Especially if you help me.’

She laughed. ‘Cute. What are you thinking?’

‘Well, I can’t get rid of this thing. Peacock is the only one who knows about it now Welby’s dead. Before Peacock sends any more fucking monsters after me, I’m going to kill him.’ He said it so easily the words shocked him. ‘Peacock murdered Patrick and nearly killed me, so fuck him, right? Kill Peacock and end it there. Forget about the book and get on with my life.’

Silhouette grinned at him. ‘I really don’t think it’s going to be anything like that simple, but it’s certainly a bloody good place to start. And it takes care of at least one loose end.’

‘So you’ll help me?’

‘I don’t think you’ll need any help, but sure. I’ll come along. Be a shame to miss a good revenge slaying.’

Alex frowned. ‘You’re pretty dark, you know that?’

Silhouette flicked him a wink and stood. ‘Alex Caine, you have no idea.’