Chaos Bound (29 page)

I double-checked the safety was engaged and hooked the gun onto the straps, the gun snug against my side. Shrugging back into my coat, the gun was hidden from view.

A pistol lying on one shelf caught my eye. It was a small gun, with a flat style. I picked it up and grinned at Taunton. ‘Please tell me you have bullets for this little baby.’

‘Have you handled a Walther PPK before?’

‘No, but I've watched all the James Bond movies. Point and shoot, right?’

‘Sounds about right.’ Taunton smiled. ‘Don’t suppose you’d give me a demonstration?’

‘No.’

‘That’s not being very nice, considering you’re currently robbing me. Don’t try to tell me you’re giving them back either, because I wouldn’t believe it for a moment.’

‘I'm walking into a shit storm, Taunton. Best I'm armed for it.’

‘You could walk away from it all. You don’t have to do this.’

‘Yes, I do.’

He gave a soft chuckle. ‘Since when did you have such a conscience? The Lora Blackgoat I knew only cared for drinking and gambling. Decided to become some sort of masked avenger?’

The Walther got tucked into the back of my pants. ‘I'm not wearing any masks.’

Taunton’s eyes took a greedy look. ‘Can you tell me how it is you are able to use Outland weapons? Is it a Witch Hunter ability? Or something to do with your mother? I heard she was a talented witch.’

‘Sorry. I've got no answers for you.’

‘Spoil sport.’ Taunton was rubbing a hand over his mouth, as if he was trying to make up his mind about something.

‘What is it?’ I asked.

‘I heard about Regulator Roman, and his unfortunate situation.’

I wondered if Taunton had information. ‘Do you know where he is?’

He looked surprised. ‘I thought he’d be with you.’

Disappointment stung and I turned away, pretending I was suddenly very interested in an old Tommy gun hanging on the wall. ‘He’s not. He may not have the sickness. We don’t know for sure.’

‘Since you’re probably going to die on this suicide mission, I will give you something else for free.’ He paused, making sure he had my attention.

I turned from the Tommy gun, and waited.

‘I heard something once. About the nephilim sickness,’ he said. ‘There was a suggestion that it’s not some flawed hereditary of the breed. Rather, the berserker rage is an effect from a poison.’

‘What?’

‘Think about it, Lora. What better way to control a race than to instil in them the fear of insanity? All the Grigori need to do when a nephilim becomes hard to control is administer the poison. They wait until it takes effect, mimicking madness, and have him dispensed with.’ Taunton gave a shrug. ‘Of course, no-one has ever done an autopsy on a sick nephilim to confirm this.’

I rubbed my arms. ‘What was your source?’

Taunton tapped the side of his nose. ‘A reliable one. Not to mention, it’s the sort of dirty trick the Grigori would pull.’

I wondered if my burgeoning relationship with Roman would have been enough of a red flag for Fowler. Enough for him to want to see Roman dead.

The bell rang out from the shop and Taunton hustled me out of the room. I adjusted my coat to make sure the guns were hidden and murmured my thanks.

‘You know what a better thanks is, Lora?’ He gave a sniff. ‘Information. When you start working for the Grigori, I might just come and collect.’

I stepped outside Taunton’s shop, pausing by the car to gather my thoughts. The submachine gun sat well under my coat, and the Walther a reassuring weight at my back. A warm breeze danced down the street, ruffling loose curls around my head and I paused to take in a breath.

‘Lora?’

I saw Cloete standing behind me, arms crossed. Her tail moved behind her in nervous jerks and a nasty purple bruise ringed her neck.

‘Hello, Judas.’ My smile was grim. ‘Has mother dearest sent you to finish the job?’

Cloete’s tail drooped. ‘You hurt my sisters. Melody’s in a coma.’

‘She’s lucky I didn’t kill her. How did you find me?’

‘You’re not the only one with a handful of Mercury Boys in your pocket.’

I nodded at the bruise. ‘Nice necklace.’

She shifted, unfolding her arms. The movement made me pinch salt, held at the ready. I had some cool guns, but I wasn’t ready to shoot Cloete. Yet.

The otherkin’s face fell. ‘I don’t know how to make this right.’

‘Make it right for whom?’ I asked. ‘Me, or Velkov?’

‘I can give you information.’

‘Why would I trust you?’

Cloete spoke quickly. ‘Mother got financial backing from some big shot called Ivor Grogan.’

‘You don’t say,’ I mused.

‘All the Runners she gets from Blackgoat will be used to help with Grogan’s business ventures.’

‘What kind of ventures?’

‘He’s got a factory, somewhere in the city, mass producing some drug.’

‘Rapture?’

Cloete nodded. ‘You’ve heard of it?’

‘Sweetheart, I sampled it,’ I said.

‘I'm not adverse to the occasional job of ill repute,’ Cloete said, sounding like she wanted to explain herself. I had limited patience at this point, but forced myself to listen. ‘But Blackgoat Watch at least had a backbone of respectability. It made me feel good, working for Gideon.’

‘Sounds like you’ve got an acute attack of conscience.’ I dusted the salt from my fingers. Seems Cloete wanted to kiss and make up, not kill me. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘I told mother…Velkov…my concerns.’ Cloete touched her throat. ‘She didn’t appreciate it.’

‘What are you going to do?’ I repeated.

‘I was with her this morning when she met with Grogan at this estate he has, past the city walls.’ Cloete’s mouth turned down. ‘I saw them bring in Crowhurst when we were leaving.’

‘Was he still alive?’ I asked quickly.

‘He wasn’t in great shape. There are holding cells inside Grogan’s stables. That’s where they would have taken him.’ She gave me a shaky smile. ‘Thought you might like some help busting that moron out.’

‘You ever hear anyone talk about a place called the Silver Dragon?’ I asked.

‘No. What is it?’

‘Where I thought they’d have Crowhurst. But your eyes on him at Grogan’s estate is good enough for me. Let’s go rescue the bastard.’

‘Who’s coming with us?’

‘So far? Just you and me.’

‘Are you serious?’ Cloete squeaked. ‘No-one else?’

‘That’s right,’ I told her. ‘I'm busting him out. I'm busting Nicola Grogan out, too. I'm going to kill anyone who stands in my way. You in?’

Cloete blinked a few times at me and it took me a few moments to realise why my chest burned. I was holding my breath. Cloete grinned.

‘Fuck yeah, I'm in.’

Cloete gripped the side of her seat with one hand, staring at me like I'd grown a second head. Her other hand was holding the machine gun I'd unclipped from its holster and passed to her. We bounced in our seats as I hit a hole in the road, and I tried my best to ignore the otherkin’s burning gaze. We’d just left the city and were heading at a good clip towards Grogan’s country estate.

‘You’re not lying?’ Her voice was strained.

‘No.’

‘You can use Outland weapons…here?’

‘Yes.’

‘And…you’re not lying?’

I glanced at her. ‘Haven’t we covered that already?’

Cloete’s eyes dropped to the gun in her lap. ‘I really hope you’re not lying.’

‘I'm not.’

‘What’s the plan?’

‘Plan?’ I jerked the wheel, swerving around another hole in the road. Cloete gripped her seat and the gun harder. ‘You’re holding the plan.’

Cloete fell silent. Alarm tripped my thoughts, warning me she couldn’t be trusted. Maybe this was the most obvious of traps: an old friend, showing up at just the right moment, offering to help. I wanted to believe more than anything that Cloete was on the level, but how could I be sure?

I braked as we reached the end of what covering the forest could afford us from Grogan’s estate. I let the car idle. Cloete looked at me, apprehensive, and I narrowed my eyes at her.

Her aura wavered in my vision and a tongue of fire wisped around her head, swirling red and gold. The burn of chilli and cardamom flooded my mouth, and relief washed over me. Cloete might have a hard-on for violence, but her conscience was clear, and she was no liar. Satisfied I could trust her, I took the machine gun and clipped it back on, before closing my coat and pulling the hood up, covering my hair.

‘You sure you want to come with me?’ I asked.

‘I'm sure.’ Cloete’s aura didn’t waver, not even at the edges. I blinked away the vision, satisfied she wasn’t aware of any traps laid for me. If Maya had set anything up, then we were both going to be her prey.

‘We’ll try bluffing this,’ she suggested. ‘Drive up to the estate. They should recognise me. I'll say I'm on an errand for mother.’

I wrestled with the gearstick and drove towards the estate. ‘Do you think they’ll buy it?’

Cloete’s blew me an air kiss. ‘Trust me. I'll be convincing.’

We drove the rest of the way in a tense silence. All too soon, the estate loomed before us and I braked. Cloete put her hand on the door handle, eyes alight with excitement, like she was having fun. She got out and approached the guard house, hips rolling seductively, tail curled loose around one thigh. The main gate opened and a guard walked across the lowered drawbridge, a multi-crossbow aimed at the car.

‘Identify yourself,’ he called.

‘Cloete Velkov.’ She sauntered across the lowered drawbridge at a leisurely stroll, hands in clear view. ‘I'm Maya Velkov’s daughter. She sent me to pick something up from the stables.’

She moved in close to the guard, lowering her voice. I wound my window all the way down and strained my ears, but couldn’t pick up what they were saying. The guard’s weapon dipped, and he cast a suspicious look my way. My knuckles turned white around the steering wheel, but I stared back with a bored expression, like maybe I had better things to be doing. Cloete whispered something in his ear, then laughed. The guard’s attention shifted back to her, his shoulder’s relaxing. Glancing up, I noticed a pair of guards in the guardhouse also watching Cloete. I smiled grimly. Had to love that succubus gene.

The guard with Cloete nodded, then waved at me, indicating I could drive across. I edged forward, stopping to pick Cloete up on the bridge. She got in and slammed the door behind her.

‘Drive towards the back, head for the building with the red tiled roof.’

I drove through the gates, giving the guard a nod as we passed and he watched me with an unfriendly expression. Guards patrolled the property and I noticed some even on the rooftop of the main house as well, armed with long-range multi-fire crossbows. Following Cloete’s instructions, I drove along a gravel pathway and around to the back of the sprawling house. Braking, we both got out of the car and approached the stables like we owned the place.

We were nearly at the door when it swung open. Cloete and I froze as Chai limped out, one thigh wrapped in a tight bandage. Her eyes flew wide and one hand scrabbled for the wheellock holstered at her hip.

‘Wait, sister.’ Cloete stepped forward, hands raised. ‘Let me explain.’

Hate rippled across the ugly otherkin’s face. ‘Traitor.’

Shouting erupted from behind us and Chai raised her wheellock. The Škorpion snapped into my hands. I fired a single shot and Chai fell back with a scream.

‘No!’ Cloete whirled and knocked the barrel of my gun aside. Something whistled by my face and a bolt thudded into Cloete’s shoulder, knocking her over. I spun, unhooked the gun and flipped the wire stock out. Bracing it against my armpit, I flicked the gauge to multi-shot and squeezed the trigger. The gun rattled, spraying a burst of bullets along the side of the building house, just short of the men who were firing at us. Bolts slammed into the ground near me in answer, spitting up gravel. I backed up and shoved Cloete towards the warehouse, covering us with bursts of gunfire. Chai writhed on the ground to my left, hand clamped around her bleeding side. I pushed Cloete inside the warehouse, but a shower of bolts stopped me from following. I flattened myself in the doorway.

From my position, I didn’t see Chai stumble towards me until it was too late. She had her wheellock aimed at me, and fired. The heavy lead shot punched into the wall beside my head and pellets of brick spat against my face. Then Chai was on me, her hands wrapped around the Škorpion. I released the gun and pulled the Walther from the back of my belt. Chai dropped the weapon, gut punched me and I doubled over with a grunt. She kicked at the Walther, and it flew from my hands. Then she was clawing my face, fingernails scratching at my eyes. I shot up to ram a fist under her chin and her head snapped back.

Blinking back tears of pain, I saw Reapers surrounding us. I dived for the Škorpion, grabbed it as I rolled, and stood. My leg trembled and the barrel shook as I squeezed the trigger. The gun fired and Reapers dove for cover as bullets chewed up the scenery.

Movement flickered to my left and I turned to see Chai pitch a knife at me. I twitched my head to the side and the blade whizzed by my face, slicing my left cheek. My leg gave way and I fell to one knee, still squeezing the trigger, shots rattling harmlessly into the air.

Chai punched me in the face and pain exploded in bursts of red dots behind my eyes. Momentarily stunned, I felt Chai’s hands ripping open one of the pouches on my work-belt.

‘My sister’s nearly dead because of you,’ she hissed. ‘So that’s how you’re gonna die: chewing on your own spell.’

She came up with a fistful of Sucker Punch, ready to push it down my throat and I mashed my lips shut. A figure rose behind Chai and I realised it was Cloete, face granite hard. She’d pulled the bolt from her shoulder and held it in a bloodied fist. In one fluid movement, she wrapped an arm around her sister’s forehead and rammed the bolt into her neck.

Chai fell off me with a gasp, hand going to the bolt in her neck. Around us lay wounded Reapers, while others kept behind cover, wary in the face of an Outland weapon.

Cloete snatched up the Škorpion and tossed it to me. I caught it, aimed at Chai and pulled the trigger, but the gun clicked empty. Ejecting the magazine, I grasped for the second one in the holster. Taking her hand away from her neck, Chai pulled out my book of darkcraft spells from a back pocket. She flipped it open to a page that was marked and I realised she still had a handful of my Sucker Punch. A Reaper rushed me, knocking the gun from my grip and tackling me to the ground.