Infernal Ties (3 page)

I jumped into the shower and turned on the water. It was of course icy cold, quickly bringing me to shiver while my breath caught in my throat. It went scalding hot before it settled into a reasonably bearable temperature. The paste clung to my skin and changed from lilac to navy blue as the water hit it. The pain faded into an intense burning. After much scrubbing with both my and Quin’s shower gels, I accepted defeat. I was stuck with four dirty holes and a smear of blue paste on my ribs. I didn’t know if it looked better or worse than the ugly purple bruises on the other side of my ribs from the lycan.

Tears threatened to join the water in cascading down my face, but I held strong. Crying wasn’t going to help me get Quin back. I needed a plan. I needed information. I peeled my jeans off. I hadn’t removed them in my mad dash for the shower. The pain in the wounds settled into an itchy burning sensation that burrowed its way into my ribs. I hoped that it wouldn’t go any deeper.
 

Once I was in fresh, dry clothing, I paced around the flat once more. I needed information. The fae had been useless; I’d hoped they’d give me at least something. If the redcap hadn’t have shown up, I may have gotten more than worthless threats and vague concepts. The city was always changing; such was the nature of things. Still, their words hung in the back of my mind.
 

The sun had set, the moon was rising, and I felt lost. I slumped down on the sofa and scrolled through my phone, wondering whom I could badger into giving me some information. Quin would have known whom to call and how to sweet-talk them. I threw my phone down onto the sofa and lay back with a groan. Wishing that Quin was there wasn’t getting me anywhere. I was beginning to feel weak as I realised just how much I needed him. He was my twin.
 

I needed to go to the site where the rogue and Quin had vanished. The lycans had lost their scent, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t missed something. Maybe Quin had left a clue, or whoever took them had left an identifying marker behind. Lycans weren’t known for their higher-level thinking; they could have missed a note stuck in a tree under a small neon sign saying ‘clue here’. I glanced out the window over the city. The moon was haloed by light clouds, although I could see the dark mass on the horizon. A storm was coming in. I had no doubt that it wasn’t the only one.
 

My stomach started growling. I realised I hadn’t eaten more than a pastry and had been in two fights. I couldn’t help but smile; Quin would have laughed at me in my bedraggled and pissed-off state. I set about making some food; it was going to be a long day. I needed my strength, and my sleep.
 

I woke up just before dawn. I’d told myself that I wouldn’t see much of anything in the dark; the truth was, I was exhausted and lost. I needed to calm my mind and pull myself together. The panic and fear over Quin was threatening to overwhelm me. The storm hadn’t come to much; it had built into a great wall of dark cloud and then dissipated. The feeling that it represented something clung to the back of my mind; I bit viciously into my pastry and told myself to stop being so stupid. Quin had been gone for a day, and I was unravelling. It was pathetic.
 

I pulled up a mental map of the city in my mind as I rummaged around the kitchen looking for more food; I couldn’t afford to be weak and hungry. A glance at the clock told me that the metro would be open again; a screech of tyres cut through my thoughts. As much as I hated public transport, it was still better than trying to drive around the city. The drivers were aggressive, verging on reckless, not that the pedestrians were much better half of the time. It was an antagonistic system.
 

Quin’s little alchemical box of miracles caught my eye. I still had some iron filings left. I wanted some of his energy-dispersing powder, but I didn’t know which that was or if he even had any left. I shoved the box in a cupboard out of sight. It wasn’t going to do me any good. I almost dropped the pouch of iron filings in my bad mood as I pulled on my belt. With a sigh, I carefully slipped my knives into their sheathes. I tucked my throwing knives away, just in case. My leather jacket gave me some protection and kept things out of sight; blades may be legal in the city but that didn’t mean I wanted to draw too much attention.
 

CHAPTER SIX

I leaned back against the square pillar and gazed absent-mindedly at the far side of the tracks with the inverted blue bubbles. It looked like I was inside a dalek; I didn’t know who had designed the metro station, but it was certainly memorable. People milled around me, and I couldn’t help but wonder why there were so many people down there; the businesses didn’t open for another three hours, yet they were all in office clothing. Or as close to it as Prague ever got.
 

Silent battles for seats occurred as everyone pushed into the train; I stood back and held onto the vertical bar in the middle of the carriage. I was only going a couple of stops. I saw no reason to incur the wrath of a local who felt that they were more deserving. Quin’s face flashed into my mind, with his broad smile and sparkling eyes. He always found amusement at my foul moods, moods that were increasingly dark in his absence. I made a note to myself to try and relax a little more when he returned. I did it for us; I needed to protect us. I had to keep him safe. He told me he understood, but I wasn’t convinced.
 

I pushed through the people to get out into the station. They milled around me, their minds somewhere else entirely. I took a deep breath and slipped around them when they cut me off or stopped dead in their tracks, absorbed in their phones. Quin saw it as a game, a dance of sorts. I found myself almost smiling as I successfully navigated my way to the escalator without bumping into someone. He had a bright way of looking at things; I envied him that.
 

The pale morning light made me flinch as I stepped out into the small courtyard; the hotdog vendor was already there, ready for the tourists. I held back a yelp as someone elbowed my injured ribs; I gave them a dark look, not that they noticed. The walk up to the castle was reasonably peaceful, once I got away from the people. I maintained my little ritual of refusing to look back until I got to the very top of the hill, where I could pause for a moment and take in the breathtaking views. The city stretched out before me. The sky still carried the blush of pink that reflected over the red roofs. The river glittered and wove its way through the city. There was something about the collection of bridges that always caught my eye, lined up like a series of stitches pulling the city together. A sense of peace filled me.
 

The castle complex was empty apart from the soldiers in their ceremonial wear; they couldn’t keep the boredom from their faces, not that I blamed them. I wasted no time in admiring the gargoyles or the intricate architecture. I headed straight through to the gardens and around the back of the stables. The road was quiet; despite the rush on the metro, the traffic hadn’t begun yet. I glanced around, checking that I was alone before I started walking across the grass searching for some sign of Quin.
 

After some twenty minutes of searching, I’d found nothing. It had been stupid; I’d hoped to find a note or something, anything, to let me know where he was and that he was ok. Wasn’t that how it went in those movies? The brave and intrepid kidnappee would leave an ingenious clue for his saviours. I wasn’t feeling like much of a saviour.
 
Something glinted in the light. I ran over to it, hope blooming once more. A small pile of indigo powder sparkled and glittered in the sunlight. It smelt of honeysuckle and coffee, Quin’s special little mix to use against all things magical.
 

I cursed him out for vanishing on me. Why couldn’t he leave me something more? I told myself that it meant he was in once piece; it was a neat and tidy little pile. A rustling from the bushes pressed against the castle stable walls drew my attention. My hand moved to the blade on my hip, and I groaned as my ribs complained at the sudden move. I stood slowly while I watched the bushes intently.
 

Something, or someone, burst out from the evergreen foliage and ran at me. I drew my blades and grounded my weight, preparing for the large man that ran at me. His face was bruised; black and purple patches sat around his left eye. Blood stained his lips, and dried blood formed neat lines down his chin. A flutter of fear formed in my chest. I hadn’t seen anything like him before. His eyes were wild.
 

As he got closer, I saw that his navy blue crewneck was stained with blood. His arms were splattered with mud, green paste, and more blood. The haunted, glassy golden eyes never left mine. I didn’t think he blinked; he was entirely focused. Even the rogue lycans didn’t focus as absolutely as he was. He was almost on me when he raised his hands. Dark brown claws emerged from his torn fingertips. No creature could do that. I side-stepped at the last second and slashed his ribs. He yowled and spun to face me before I could do anything more. He bared his pointed yellowed teeth at me; his golden eyes never left mine. He looked like a broken lycan, the feral predatory need, the teeth, but he was too human. I found myself frozen under that gaze, paralysed by fear of the unknown. Suddenly, his face contorted in fear. His eyes became chocolate brown, tears flooded down his face. His body relaxed before he groaned and took off across the road. I ran after him. I couldn’t allow a creature like that loose in the city.
 

Tyres screeched as someone hit their brakes; I ignored them. My ribs groaned and ached as I pushed myself to catch him. His longer legs meant he was getting away from me. He vanished into the dense woods. The branches bit into my arms as I desperately tried to keep him in my line of sight. He was gone. I couldn’t hear his footsteps or see any sign of him through the dense foliage and thick tree trunks. I had no idea what he was or where he came from. With a heavy sigh I stopped in the middle of the woods, my heart pounding.

Logic overruled any emotion.
 
I pulled a small vial out of my pocket; Quin insisted that I carry them at all times. I managed to coax a few drops of the thing’s blood down into the vial. An alchemist would be able to give me some answers.
 

It was about time someone told me what the fuck was going on.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I couldn’t face trekking through the public transport quagmire again, and the cab driver was late. I paced around the grass running the images of the thing through my mind. It looked as though it was in pain, the fear was almost palpable. I found myself feeling sorry for it. I pushed the thought aside; it was another beast, and it needed to be put down before a human stumbled across it. I squeezed my eyes shut and hoped that another hunter found it first. I was beginning to realise how many people I’d pushed away when the cab driver pulled up. Quin would have been able to alert a number of other hunters and pull a team together. I’d never been on good terms with them. I hadn’t tried.
 

The cab driver gave me an impatient glare as I walked around and got in. “Malá Strana.”

He raised an eyebrow at me and said in rough English, “Address, please.”

I smiled sweetly and called up the small well of patience. I didn’t know the alchemist’s exact address; I’d always left it to Quin. I wasn’t going to say, “The alchemist’s around the back of Starbucks.”

“Starbucks, in Malá Strana.”

He nodded and took off down the road while I was struggling with my seatbelt. I clung onto the door handle with one hand as he flew around the bends and took me back down the hill. I caught a quick glimpse of the view over the city from the top of the hill before we careened downwards and raced a tram to the bottom. I lurched forward when he hit the brakes and the driver cursed out the red light. The public transport option was looking better and better.
 

People were beginning to mill around as we got closer to the tourist centre of the city. The driver pulled up by the side of the road, and I jumped out before he threw me out. He gave me a dark look when I didn’t give him a tip; I bit my tongue and held back the comment about his driving. Instead, I looked over to the prettiest Starbucks in Europe. The dark wooden shutters sat open around the arched windows that were recessed into the pale-cream stone. Classic rectangular windows surrounded by elegant grey decorations were carefully placed on the floors above. It somehow managed to be both modern and traditional. My stomach growled when I smelled the fresh trdelník cakes being cooked, vanilla and a splash of cinnamon. They claimed that they were a very old Czech delicacy, but in truth the simple cakes were very much a modern invention. Not that I cared: Traditional or not, they tasted fantastic. I wandered past the wooden shed-type affair where the trdelník were being made fresh, and ignored my stomach in favour of the road leading past Starbucks. I had to find the alchemist.
 

Alchemists were often good sources of information, as everyone went to them for their potions and lotions, including Quin. He had talked about learning alchemy, but I shut him down; I was beginning to feeling guilty about it. I should have listened and encouraged his passion. He’d always been eager to learn and he drank in everything the alchemists were willing to tell him. He wanted so badly to train properly, but I didn’t want him losing sight of what alchemy was. Magic. It was at the heart of everything we stood against. Everything we protected the city from. I swallowed down the fear and grief that was swelling and scolded myself. He was alive and well. It wasn’t the time for regrets.