Mammon (13 page)

The guy with the blue eyes leaned in. ‘My name is Andras. Would you like another drink?' He glanced at her empty glass.

‘I'll get one when I'm ready.'

Andras nodded and stroked his chin. ‘That's probably wise of you. Or –' he gestured to the green bottle in the middle of the table – ‘you can have what we're having.' He winked. ‘Might see the green fairy, if you're lucky.' He paused. ‘You are over eighteen, of course?'

Grace gave him a vigorous nod. ‘Of course.'

Andras passed her a glass. She pressed it to her lips, closed her eyes and tipped the glass back. Her eyes burned, her stomach clenched. ‘That's horrible.' She put down the glass. ‘No offence.'

‘None taken. It's not for everyone.'

Then – like a smooth, caressing wind – tranquil warmth flooded her body. All was good in the world.

Andras gave her a knowing smile. ‘Feeling better?'

‘Yeah.' Wide-eyed, Grace looked at the bottle. ‘That's amazing. I feel great.' She slid the glass across to Andras. ‘Can I have another one?'

She swallowed, flinching as the green liquid burned its way to her stomach. ‘Oh,' she groaned. ‘It's really strong, though.'

‘Sometimes we add something sweet.' Andras lifted his hand; a waiter appeared. ‘Lemonade.'

Grace cast a look around the table. The older man was watching her with an expression she couldn't decipher. The other two guys were talking quietly – although one of them, the blond guy, kept glancing across at the pretty girl, who was engrossed in something Joe was saying.

Grace let her eyes travel down the girl's neckline. It was black lace, which normally she would have liked to wear herself, but her breasts were pushed up and out, and it looked as though her belly was fully on show. She laughed to herself, imagining Dad's reaction if she ever tried to go out looking like that. Sadness hit her. Dad was never going to see her go out again.

With a laugh, Joe slammed his fist on the table; Grace looked up in alarm. Red-cheeked, her brother looked around the table, his eyes falling on Mammon's face. He caught his breath, clicked his fingers. ‘Hey! I know who you are! You're that rich guy.'

The man nodded. ‘My name is Mammon Jones.'

Grace studied his face. ‘I've seen you on TV.'

Mammon smiled. ‘That happens.' He swallowed a shot of absinthe. ‘Mmm. Lovely.' He put down the glass and relaxed back in his chair.

‘I'm Joe. This is my sister, Grace.'

‘Lovely to meet you both.'

One by one, Grace examined the men at the table. Black shirts, black pants. Standard uniform for most guys on a night out. But there was something different here. The smell of refined cologne. Well-kept hair. Expensive watches.

And that super-expensive drink. These weren't ordinary people. She looked at Mammon. ‘What are you doing here?'

Joe laughed. ‘Forgive my sister. She can be rude.'

‘Shut up, Joe.' She could tell he was play acting.

Mammon smiled. ‘It's all right. Nothing wrong with a bit of youthful curiosity. We're here because my company is a major sponsor.'

Now she knew why he leaned back in the chair like a man perfectly comfortable in his surroundings, as if he owned everything around him.

Come to think of it: they all had that look.

Andras rested his arm on the back of Grace's chair. ‘Excuse me.' He reached across her, brushing his hand over her arm as he reached for the drink bottle.

‘He may look like the consummate company man,' Andras murmured. ‘But Mammon's hobby on the side is hunting monsters.'

Mammon tutted. ‘Don't tease them.'

Grace shot looks between the pair. ‘What did you say?'

‘He's just joking.' Mammon waggled his finger at Andras.

Smiling, Andras turned away and took a drink.

‘Wait . . .' said Grace. She threw a cautious look around the tent before leaning closer to Andras. ‘What do you mean . . . monsters?'

Joe looked over.

Andras and Mammon swapped looks. ‘Perhaps we shouldn't tell them.'

‘Tell us,' Grace said.

‘All right then,' Mammon said. He sat back in his seat and pulled out a cigar. ‘There's no other way to put it. There are demons out there, and we hunt them.' He shrugged. ‘You probably don't believe us.' He lit the cigar, releasing puffs of smoke into the air around his head.

Joe leaned closer. ‘No, we do. We hunt them as well.'

Mammon blew out another waft of smoke and raised his eyebrows. ‘Which outfit are you with?'

‘One in the south,' said Grace. She shot Joe a cautionary look.
Don't tell them too much.

‘Ah – you're with the Renfield lot,' said Mammon, smiling.

Joe nodded. ‘Yeah!'

The three younger guys chuckled quietly.

‘What?' Joe looked around the table.

Mammon took another drink and crossed his legs. ‘Let's just say that you won't find
us
getting bogged down in paperwork, or spending hours sitting around a conference table. Do they throw files at you, make you read irrelevant rubbish about a demon's criminal history?' He snorted. ‘None of that for us. We just go in and get the job done.' He flicked his cigar ash on the ground. Andras's eyes twinkled as he poured another drink. ‘What do you both do? Any special skills, or abilities?'

Grace glared at Joe.
Don't tell them.

Mammon tightened his fingers around the glass. ‘You don't have to reveal anything.'

‘We're still learning,' Grace allowed.

‘Mmm.' Mammon sighed. ‘And that will be a lengthy, painful process.'

Grace couldn't help but nod, remembering the cramping pain as the taser hit.

Andras leaned forward, trapping her gaze again. ‘What about your parents?'

‘They died.'

‘How?'

Joe clenched his fingers into a fist. ‘Murdered.' His voice trembled. Grace looked down at her hands.

‘Oh.' Haures stroked Joe's arm. ‘That's horrible.'

‘You need to punish those who did it.' Mammon stared at Joe. ‘There's no justice, otherwise.'

Joe nodded. ‘I'd love to, but I don't know how that will happen.'

‘Mmm. Frustrating, not being able to take action.'

The group fell into silence.

Andras smiled at Grace. ‘On a lighter note, would you like to dance?'

‘No, thanks.'

‘Grace is a bit shy that way,' said Joe, ignoring the fierce glare she gave him. He turned to Haures. ‘Shall we?'

Smiling, she nodded. ‘Sure.'

Grace gasped as Haures stood up. The black lace micro-dress was attached at Haures's belly button by a gold clasp, revealing nearly all of her hips. A thick black band sat just on her pelvis, from which hung a very short skirt.

‘Some dress,' she muttered.

‘Thanks.' Haures gave her a sweet smile. With a grin, Joe took her hand and walked towards the dance floor; his chest puffed out with pride as every pair of eyes in the room followed their movement.

* * *

‘JOE?' IVAN KNOCKED
on the bedroom door and waited for a few seconds. He pushed the door open and glanced around. ‘Nothing.'

Lucius peered into the room. ‘When did you see him last?'

‘Just before dinner.' Ivan scanned the area for clues – a wallet, keys – anything to suggest Joe hadn't left the premises.

Diana rushed up the hallway. ‘Grace isn't in her room.' She shot Ivan a desperate look. ‘Do you think they're still on the grounds?'

Ivan shook his head. ‘Probably not.'

‘My God!' Diana pulled out her phone and paced out into the hallway.

Lucius folded his arms. ‘They obviously got past Brutus and took off somewhere. Grace must have played a mind trick.'

Diana came rushing back. ‘No signal from either of them.' She hit another number. ‘Brutus! Did my niece and nephew approach the gate tonight?'
Diana sighed and hung up. ‘Well, he wouldn't remember if they did.' She rubbed her forehead.

Lucius nodded. ‘That's what I was saying.'

‘I'm going to check if Joe's bike is there.'

Lucius watched Diana rush away and then turned to Ivan. ‘It doesn't matter if Grace comes back, but we need Joe.'

Ivan frowned. ‘It would be better if they both returned, Lucius.'

‘Yes – but Joe is the more vital of the pair. And they did leave of their own will, Ivan. All I'm saying is, if they get in touch, make sure Joe comes back.' Lucins rubbed his glasses against his shirt before replacing them on his face and making for the door.

* * *

GRACE SWAYED IN
her chair, her feet tapping. ‘Oh – I love this song!' Was she slurring? Uhhr . . . who cared
.
Across the tent, Joe was pressed close against the girl whose name Grace couldn't remember.

She pointed a shaky finger at Andras. ‘Anthony. Right? That's you?'

Grinning, Andras poured her another drink. ‘It's better with the lemonade, isn't it?'

‘Yep.' She reached forward, drank the shot, then leaned her head back on the chair. The little stars on the ceiling were dancing.

‘Do you have a boyfriend, Grace?'

She rolled her head his way. ‘Nup.'

‘That surprises me. You're a good-looking girl.'

‘I had one – last year.' Her head rolled the other way. The room looked as though they were underwater – everything seemed tinged in a sweaty blur.

‘And?'

‘We broke up.'

‘Why?' Andras passed her the glass. ‘Drink up.'

‘He told everyone in the school that I'd done dirty things with him.
Really
dirty things.'

‘And had you?'

‘No! I mean . . .' she waved her hand through the air, spilling green drops on her t-shirt. ‘We played around, but I didn't want to go all the way. He told everyone we did.' Her head lolled sideways. ‘He spread foul rumours about me all round school.'

Andras shook his head. ‘What a bastard.'

One of the waiters approached the table. ‘Excuse me, sir.' He gave Grace a stern look. ‘That young lady has had more than enough to drink.'

Mammon looked up. ‘You're fired.'

‘I beg your pardon!'

‘You can beg all you want but you're still fired.'

The waiter's mouth dropped open. ‘Who do you think you are?'

‘You mean, you don't know?' Andras raised an eyebrow. ‘You should be sacked for that alone!'

The waiter shook his head and strode away.

Grace gasped. ‘You fired him!' She slumped onto Andras's shoulder.

Mammon stood up and patted Andras's back. ‘You'll have to take her to bed, my lad.'

From the dance floor, Joe glanced across at Grace, slumped in her chair, head flung back. ‘Let's take a break.'

Haures nodded. ‘Okay. But before we do . . .' She pressed her mouth against his, her tongue cool amidst the warm heat of her mouth. She broke the kiss slowly, her eyes never leaving his.

Joe smiled. ‘That was great.'

‘Come on,' Haures whispered. ‘Dance with me some more.'

Joe glanced across again – Grace was still slumped against Andras. ‘I need to check on my sister.' He squeezed her hand as they walked back to the table. ‘I'd like to see you again, though.'

‘Oh, I'm not letting you get away from me.'

Joe slid into Mammon's empty seat. He nudged Grace's arm. ‘Hey! Wake up!'

‘Uhh . . . leave me alone . . .'

Joe stared at the near-empty bottle. ‘Friggin' hell, Grace! How much did you have?'

‘Shut up, Joe.' Her head jerked towards him. ‘You're drunk too.'

‘No. I only had one of those.' He glared at Andras. ‘How much did you give her?'

Andras shrugged. ‘She was doing fine – I even watered it down with lemonade.'

‘She doesn't need to drink much. And she didn't eat anything.' He glanced up – Mammon was now standing behind Andras's chair. ‘I think it's time we went.'

Mammon nodded. ‘No problem, Joe. No harm intended with Grace.'

‘Yeah, well . . .' Joe gave Andras a threatening stare. ‘He's been feeding that stuff to her non-stop.'

‘I thought she could handle it. I'm sorry, Joe.' Andras helped Grace sit up. ‘Can you walk, sweetheart?'

‘Yeah.' Grace stood up and then stumbled. Andras caught her. ‘Try to focus, Grace.' He looked at Joe. ‘Where are you parked?'

‘Over that way.' Joe pointed towards the river.

‘We'll help you.' They guided Grace past the crowds and through the main gates. The security guard who'd identified Grace shook his head with a disapproving frown as she was led past.

Andras eased Grace on to the kerb. ‘There you are.'

Joe kissed Haures again, his fingers stroking the soft skin on her waist. Sighing with regret, he watched her slide into the car.

Mammon reached out his hand. ‘Next time we go on a hunt, I'll call you.' He shook Joe's hand, slipping a small mobile phone into his palm. ‘This is for your use only.'

Joe nodded. He reached into his wallet and slid out the card the paramedic had given him. ‘This is you, isn't it?' He narrowed his eyes. ‘Vanguard Security. I guessed by the initials: M.H. Jones.'

‘That's us.' Mammon smiled. ‘People do admire our work.'

‘One of our guys seemed to think you'd help us. That you'd get the job done, when Renfield wouldn't.'

‘He was right.'

‘I want to catch the guys who killed my parents.'

‘We will. I
will
call you.' Mammon got into the car and closed the door.

As the car moved away, he gave an approving smile to his apprentices. ‘Good work – especially you two.' He nodded to Andras and Haures.