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A sudden gust of warm wind hit and I grabbed the metal hopper’s handrail as it gave a stomach-dropping shudder. Heights don’t usually bother me, but something about being forty-odd feet up, in a three-foot-wide metal basket, suspended on a seemingly fragile-looking arm cantilevered up and out from the back of a small lorry, brought on an unexpected attack of vertigo.
Dizzy, I slumped down and tried not to think about water, potties or how far away the ground was. I took a few deep breaths, willing the dizziness to pass, then switched my phone on (leaving it on when dealing with unknown magic is a sure-fire way of crackingthe Buffer spell) and texted the rest of the team with the ‘reverse tweak’. Now I’d figured out the colour combo, removing the ‘Harry Potter’ spell from the other fifty-odd posters (who knew there were somany posters in Leicester Square?) would be as easy as, well, sucking up gravy.
I checked my messages— and found one from Malik, his clipped, ice-cold tone almost willing me not to phone back.
I took a breath and brought his number up, the nerves in my stomach not made any better by my constant need to relieve myself. And the minefield of thoughts I’d sidestepped earlier, when I’d decided Malik was the obvious choice for info, opened up in front of me. If I was honest, things weren’t just complicated and confusing between us, they were downright awkward. And it was all my fault.
I should never have blackmailed him.
Oh, it had seemed a great idea at the time. He’d started ordering me around, right in the middle of the ToLA case, and as he’d had my freely offered blood, I had no choice but to do as he said. His orders were all meant to protect me, and the one chance I had of recovering the stolen fae’s fertility. Later, when I’d discovered that, I’d forgiven him. But at the time I’d felt betrayed, mad as hell, and had been determined to stop him from ever abusing his power over me again. Plus, I had a plan to rescue the victims with his help, and knew the only way to get it was to force him.
So I’d come up with the clichéd ‘in the event of my death’ letter, left with the police, except I didn’t actually have to die for the letter to do its stuff; I only had to give the nod to Hugh – (acting) Detective Inspector Hugh Munro – and the full force of English justice would fall on Malik like the bricks of the High Court collapsing atop him.
Not that I thought Malik cared so much for himself. It was more that if what he’d done became public knowledge, it would break the ancient Live and Let Live Tenets between the vamps and the witches, and set them at each other’s throats. If the witches and the vamps went to war, then no one was going to come out a wi
And the reason I’d only seen the beautiful vamp once since the end of the ToLA case three months ago.
Not that I’d realised anything was different at first. In fact, I’d sort of fantasised that after he’d helped me, and healed me after the – literal – dust from the ToLA case had settled, things between us would . . . move on . . . and that the heart-thudding attraction I’d always felt (and had a wishful idea wasn’t just on my side) might develop into more. Though quite how ‘more’ would work out, his being a vamp and my ru
So despite my fantasies, or rather because of them, I’d reluctantly told myself it was better to stick to being ‘just good friends’ with Malik.
Then I’d called him to thank him. Malik had been distant and formal as if there’d never been anything between us, and my ‘just good friends’ idea was slapped back in my face. Though after my shock dissipated it hit me that, as far as he knew, I was still prepared to carry out my blackmail threat, so in order to protect the vamp/witch status quo, he was doing exactly what I’d demanded: leaving me alone.
Hoping to ease into sorting things out, I’d come up with a minor problem with Darius, my ex-fang-pet, and asked to meet. The meeting hadn’t gone quite as pla
Now, if nothing else, this Emperor/Autarch stuff counted as a good opener to clear the air.
I chewed my lip, worked out a polite greeting in my head and called.
He answered on the second ring. ‘Genevieve.’
My heart did a stupid excited leap at hearing his not-quite-English accent, even if his tone was the same clipped, ice-cold one as his message. Then, as the metal bucket shuddered in another gust of wind, my carefully prepared words disappeared and I blurted, ‘Do you know a vamp called the Emperor?’
‘Why?’
The part of me that didn’t need to pee relaxed at his sharp question. If he’d given me an unequivocal ‘no’, I’d have hit a dead end on all fronts. But his question was almost an acknowledgement.
Keeping it business-like and brief, I told him about Tavish wanting my help, the Emperor tarot card with the Rod of Asclepius, the peeping tom and the faint ping I’d got off a nearby vamp. I finished with the million-pound question that had been bugging me: ‘Can the Autarch go outside in daylight, if he was in the shade of nearby trees or something? Is he the Emperor?’
There was a brief silence. ‘Where are you now, Genevieve?’
He hadn’t denied it was possible. My heart leaped again, with fear this time, and thanks to my magically irritated bladder I nearly wet myself. Crap. I swallowed, clenched my i
‘What problems?’
‘A prank spell on the movie posters. It’s been all over the news. They’re calling it a “Harry Potter”,’ I finished wryly.
There was a brief burst of noise as if a TV had been switched on, then it was gone. ‘Ah, I see.’ Malik’s voice held a thin thread of amusement. ‘Do you plan to be there for some time?’
‘Probably another hour.’
‘I would prefer to discuss this situation in person. I would like to meet you there, if you agree?’
He wanted to talk face to face— relief, and not a little hope, filled me despite his formal tone. ‘Of course I agree, Malik. I wouldn’t have called you if I didn’t want your help.’
‘You require my help?’ The words seemed to whisper out of the phone and slide like ice down my spine. Goosebumps pricked my skin with uneasy anticipation, and I shivered.
‘Yes.’
‘Good. I will see you shortly.’ The phone went dead.
I stared at it. Had I heard a note of eagerness beneath his coldness, or was it just my imagination? And if so, what did it mean? I shook my head. No use biting off trouble before the gorgeous vamp arrived. Time enough for all sorts of things then, including biting. If the Autarch was about, I wanted Malik on my side. Whatever it took. And if the Autarch wasn’t, I still needed his help to find and do a deal with the Emperor.
I looked up at the scowling Conan, decided it would only take minutes to finish up and dug the turkey baster out of my backpack. I crunched another liquorice torpedo, and activated the glyphs (drawn on the plastic with Leandra’s silver sharpie) with a quick touch of my will. Time to suck up the ‘Harry Potter’ spell and then I really, reallyneeded to pee.
Fifty minutes later, feet thankfully back on solid ground, I was dealing with the ‘Harry Potter’ spell tagged to a poster for Kiss Kiss Bang Bang.Val Kilmer and Robert Downey Jr were playing Russian roulette and hamming it up whenever they bought it. After another desperate visit to the cinema’s facilities, along with the drastic measure of drinking a pint of salt water followed by the expected stomach-emptying results, I’d knocked my magical bladder problems on the head. I didn’t do the salt emetic often, but it was either that or a full cleansing ritual followed by a salt bath, something I didn’t have time for. Not with Malik due to appear shortly.