Vowed (9 page)

I watch the implication of what Dante’s just said sink in. The realization that we are playing open cards with them both impresses and scares them. And the fact that he quite seriously
mentioned monsters has thrown them off kilter too.

‘Monsters?’ This is the girl. She’s moving forward. ‘Like things that have teeth and claws and things?’

‘Exactly like that.’

‘You joking, bruv? Because this isn’t the place to joke about anything like that.’ Dread Boy’s expression is serious as he faces us and although he’s showing a calm
demeanour right now, as a fellow-pretender I spot how he holds himself a little bit too tightly, how his hands are clenched. Here is someone showing the world a facade of being okay, of holding it
together, when really the world’s a far bigger and uglier place than anyone ever told us.

‘I don’t lie,’ Dante says evenly and calmly.

The group share a look. Not just your average
WTF is going on here
look but a look that says,
WTF they’re telling the truth and we know it.

‘Have you guys seen anything that shouldn’t—’ I break off and wonder what to say. ‘I mean that looks monstrous?’

They all talk at once but it’s the girl’s voice I hear clearest. Dante tries to shush them and points at the girl.

‘You talk.’

‘Like, a few nights ago, right? There’s all this noise and my mum’s so angry because she needs to sleep cos she’s working the early shift. So we go over to check it out,
right? Someone tried to break into this little kid’s room. And he’s only little, you know? Four or something.’

‘Did anyone see who did it?’ I ask them.

‘His brother saw it.’ This is Dread Boy. ‘Like, he proper saw the thing trying to pull his brother out of the room.’

‘Did he get a good look at who did this?’

‘No. The thing was on the other side of the wall, hanging outside the window.’

Not what I was expecting to hear. I blink slowly and look at Dante, who looks equally taken aback.

‘Which block did this happen in?’ I ask them.

They point en masse to the middle block.

‘Do you know about any of the other disappearances?’ I ask them, my gaze resting on Dread Boy, whose face looks suddenly frail and very young.

‘I’ve not lived here long enough,’ the girl says. ‘But my auntie, she knows about them all. Has scrapbooks about it and everything.’

The other kids don’t really say much, except to nod and shuffle and look at their feet.

‘What is your name?’ I ask the girl. ‘I’m Kit.’

‘My name is Diane.’ She holds out her hand and I’m impressed by the amount of jewellery on her wrist and fingers. If she hit anyone with it, they would be scarred for life. I
shake her hand – after moving the knife into my other hand.

‘Diane, do you think we can maybe get to speak to your auntie?’ Dante holds out his business card to her and she accepts it, casting an eye over the printed front, as if she’s
used to being given business cards by government agents in the small hours of the morning.

‘Not tonight,’ she replies resolutely, a bit annoyed, as if we’re dim, asking to speak to anyone at this time of night. ‘She’s asleep. Look at the time. It’s
only bad people out this time of night.’

I laugh. I can’t help it. The tension clinging to all of us evaporates a bit and they laugh too, suddenly just kids and not frightening at all.

‘Like us, yeah?’ says the boy called Marvin. He gets a few high-fives and slaps on the shoulder.

I slide my knife back into my boot and straighten up. ‘Sorry about that,’ I tell them. ‘Not used to dealing with young people.’

‘We could tell. Besides, no one brings knives to gunfights any more,’ Dread Boy says, nodding towards an anonymous car sitting a distance away. I look over and ice shivers down my
spine. The windows are too dark for me to see through but I sense the regard of whoever’s in there and it’s not friendly.

‘Who’s that?’ Dante asks, turning back towards the boy. ‘The local dealer?’

Dread Boy lifts his hands and shoulders in innocence and steps back. ‘I don’t know nothing,’ he says, affecting a bad accent and slang. ‘Don’t go hating on a
brother who’s just out with his mates.’

This has everyone in stitches again but I no longer feel comfortable or safe.

‘The little kid who almost got taken. Do you know his parents? Is there a way we can get in there to talk to him and his brother, do you think?’

‘Why do you care?’ The question comes from the one boy who’s not spoken yet. His voice is soft and his eyes are serious.

I sense Dante leaving this for me to answer and I panic a bit, wondering how to make them believe that we’re genuine, that we actually do care about these kids.

‘Because I believe in monsters. I know that the fairy tales about creatures hunting small children in forests are real. Only the forests have given away to big cities and the children are
a bit wiser but so are the monsters that hunt them. I also know that sometimes what you imagine lurks beneath your bed or in your wardrobe is real. That if you miss that exact step on your carpet,
when the moon shines through the window, that the thing waiting in the shadows really will get you.’ I watch Dread Boy as I talk. ‘That weird hollow feeling in the small of your back
when you go to the loo at night, or when you run through the underpass and you know something is reaching for you? That’s because whatever is lurking there is real and it’s my
family’s job to find them and kick them to pieces.’

They’re all wary now and I wonder if I overdid it. I possibly have, but they must understand that I am telling the truth here and that if anyone understands about things that go bump in
the night, I do.

‘You asked,’ I end defensively, heaving a sigh. I really hope Dante pulls something out of his hat to convince these kids. I’m hyper-aware of each of them and how they’re
just so very quiet, as if they’re waiting for something.

‘I believe you.’ The girl’s voice is bright and fervent. ‘You’re not lying.’

There are murmurs of assent from all of them. I catch Dante’s eye briefly and he gives me a light nod, conveying his approval.

‘We’ll get something sorted for you guys,’ Dread Boy says. ‘I’m Chem. This pretty girl is Diane. Marvin you know. That’s Jamal and this guy here,’ he
says, pulling the quiet boy closer. ‘This is Clifford. But we call him the Brain.’

We shake hands with them all and I like how their grips are firm, their nods friendlier than before.

‘We’ll call you tomorrow, about setting things up for you to meet and talk to some people.’ I hand Chem my business card. It’s just my name and mobile number. I pass one
to Diane too.

‘Thanks,’ I tell them, meaning it with all my heart. ‘You guys are ace.’

After a few moments of awkwardness between us all and a few ‘byes’ they turn and wander away, leaving us standing alone by the Ducati.

Dante heaves a sigh and rubs his hands over his face. He looks tired and more than just a bit on edge.

‘That was interesting.’ His smile isn’t really a smile, more like a grimace. ‘Looks like we’re taking on the case.’

‘Yeah, against my better judgement.’

I swing my leg over the bike and pull my helmet on.

‘Let’s get to Greenwich,’ I say. ‘There’s a place I know that’s open twenty-four seven.’

Thorn entered the large room at the top of the tower. He could see the sky through the large windows; the moon hung pregnant in the night sky, the luminous stars almost within
reach. He paused for a moment, looking up at the firmament, before turning to where Odalis stood behind her desk.

She wasn’t very tall but had an enormous presence; one that made him feel small in comparison. She vibrated with quiet power, her movements assured and measured as she leafed through the
large tome resting on the desk.

‘Darkness surrounds the tower,’ she said, her voice betraying her annoyance. ‘We have spoken about this several times, Thorn.’

He suppressed a sigh of irritation. ‘I saw from my balcony.’

‘What draws you to dream of the darkness the way you do?’

‘Are you really asking me this? When you know what I faced, what I fought?’

‘I ask because this is something new you dream of, not your uncle’s attempt to bring the Old Gods back.’ She rubbed her thumb and forefinger together under her nose, as if
crushing mint leaves before inhaling the scent. ‘The dream smells different.’

Thorn walked past the desk and looked at the map on the wall. The map represented the human world, the Frontier, and the Fae realm of the Otherwhere. It also showed the strange in-between realm
known as the Veil.

The Veil stretched between the Frontier and the Otherwhere, and it was here that humans sometimes found themselves when drunk or high on drugs. It was the place where dreams are made manifest,
the place where monsters seep between the cracks and carry dreamers away like the nightmares of old.

‘I don’t know who’s in my dreams.’

‘So it is a
who
and not a
what
?’

Thorn turned to look at her in surprise. ‘Yes, I suppose I dream of someone.’

‘The girl?’

Thorn didn’t pretend not to know whom she meant. ‘I dream of her every night. She is with me when I wake, when I eat, when I study.’ His smile was tight and maybe a bit
unpleasant. ‘My father insisted I forget her, but it isn’t easy.’

‘It has been less than a year,’ Odalis said, looking up from the book before her. ‘It is understandable that your feelings for this human girl are still conflicted. You will
forget, in time.’

‘You didn’t wake me up to talk about Kit Blackhart, Odalis, or to reprimand me for dreaming the darkness,’ Thorn said, keeping the edge in his voice. ‘I thought we were
due to have a lesson.’

In answer Odalis threw her hands in the air and the table hurtled towards him at a stunning speed. Thorn turned the table aside with a grunt and, as he straightened, a searing bolt of pain
streaked past his ribs, knocking the breath out of him.

Odalis stood over him as he lay gasping for breath, her face a cool mask.

‘All warfare is based on distraction,’ Odalis said. ‘This is something you need to remember. Say “I understand” to show me you heard me.’

‘I understand, Lady Firesky.’

‘Good. Now stand up and defend yourself or you die.’

Greenwich has to be one of my favourite places in and around London. There’s the old Naval College, the Observatory, the craft markets and eateries. There’s also
the little-known Museum for Maritime Fae, which is the place to go to when you’re researching anything to do with sea folk and lore. It’s also where you get the skinny on the events
behind the big events in our (human) maritime history.

I park in front of George’s, opposite the main Greenwich market, and pull together a bit of glamour to conceal the bike so that I don’t have to lug my leather jacket and helmet with
me. I’m ahead of Dante by a few minutes, so I choose one of the larger couches near the window and sit with my back against the wall – that way I can see the door and who’s
passing by outside.

Greenwich is busy for this time of the morning but then London seems to be becoming more and more the twenty-four-hour city, like New York, Cairo and Paris, if you know where to look, that is. I
order a frappuccino for myself and a black tea for Dante. As I came in I spotted the fresh croissants being taken from the oven in the back and I ask for a few of those too.

By the time Dante walks in, our croissants and drinks are on the table. He sits down with a sigh.

‘You do the no-sleeping thing a lot?’ he asks me, crumbling a croissant between his fingers, before dipping it in his tea. He ignores the face I pull and pops the soaked pastry in
his mouth with all the evidence of someone who enjoys it. Gross. Also weird.

‘Yep. That’s why coffee is your best friend. And when it’s not coffee, or really strong tea, it’s energy drinks and energy bars.’

He taps his head. ‘So noted. It must be hell on your boyfriend, knowing you’re always out and about.’

I grin at him and a bit of me feels flattered that he’s cautiously fishing. ‘I don’t have a boyfriend,’ I tell him. ‘How about you?’

A light flush spreads across his cheeks and tints the tips of his ears pink. ‘Ah. Not so subtle, am I? No, I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend, for that matter. I just
don’t have the time because of work and studying . . .’

‘So why did you assume I had one?’

‘The boy, the big guy that came up earlier today, no, yesterday, when we were talking. Isn’t he your boyfriend?’

I roll my eyes and laugh because he’s genuinely pretending he doesn’t know who Aiden is. ‘No, definitely not. That’s Aiden Garrett. We’re just really good
mates.’

‘With benefits?’ He raises his eyebrows questioningly and this time it’s my turn to flush.

‘What? No! Geez, what’s wrong with you?’ I can’t help but pull a face. ‘No. Just no.’

‘He looked as if he wanted to punch my lights out, that’s why I’m asking. Guys don’t usually act like that unless, you know, they fancy the girl.’

I wave my hand in the air between us to show how ridiculous it was. ‘Aiden’s a mate. He’s very protective of me and my family.’

Dante watches me for a few seconds and I pretend not to notice. Instead I sip my frappe and stuff my face with a warm croissant. I’m not entirely sure how it’s happened or when
exactly I decided to investigate the missing kids with Dante, but I know my family’s going to have a combined Richter scale 9 fit when they find out. With that in mind I dig out my phone just
as it starts ringing in my hand.

‘Freaky,’ Dante comments at the synchronicity of my movement and the phone deciding to ring.

‘It happens all the time,’ I tell him. ‘You get used to it.’

I excuse myself and go and stand outside with my back to the window, facing the closed-up market on the other side of the street.

‘What have you been doing?’ Uncle Andrew asks me without even waiting for me to say hello. ‘I hear you’ve taken on the job. I’ve counted the hours and I don’t
see that it’s dawn in Greenwich yet.’