“The number plate has been recorded, sir.”
“Excellent.” Mathi glanced at me. “Any suggestions as to how we play this?”
“You and Henrick tackle the car while I?—”
I stopped, frowning as the SUV lights briefly flashed. Perhaps the two men in the SUV had just gotten word from our thief and were preparing to leave. If that were the case, then maybe our best bet was to park up and follow them.
As it turned out, that wasn’t the case.
Without anyone else getting into the vehicle, it moved. It didn’t drive away, however.
It reversed.
Straight at the damn Mercedes.
Henrick immediately threw the Merc into reverse and hit the accelerator again. We shot backward at speed, and yet the SUV seemed to be gaining. Neither Henrick nor Mathi appeared tobe fazed, however, so perhaps this wasn’t the first time someone had tried to ram them.
Then, from the street behind us, came the sharp blast of a horn. My heart leapt, and I twisted around. Another car, though if the brief glimpse of the woman’s horrified face was anything to go by, she wasn’t connected to either the SUV or our thief.
“Please hold on to something,” Henrick said, his tone cool and calm.
I barely had time to grab the “oh shit” handle again before he threw the car to the right, rocking it briefly onto two wheels as he neatly reversed into the nearest driveway, then slammed on the brakes.
We almost got out of the way.
Almost.
Chapter
Eight
The rear of the SUV slammed into the front end of the Merc, throwing me sideways as the car was pushed into the nearby fence and sent bricks flying. There was a screech of tires as the woman tried to avoid the SUV, but her car slid on the wet road and spun, the rear end of her vehicle finishing off the bit of fence we’d left untouched.
The SUV peeled away from us and sped down the street.
“Oh, no you fucking don’t,” I growled, and scrambled out of the Merc. The wind whipped around me, sharp, cold, and eager to be used. I flung it after the retreating vehicle, slipped a thick knot of it under the SUV’s tail end, and then flipped it up and over. The vehicle landed on its roof hard enough to buckle and slid down the road for several yards before coming to rest hard up against a light pole.
Mathi was already running toward it, Henrick two steps behind him.
I didn’t chase after them; the wind continued her whispering, telling me our thief was on the run. I scrambled over the small brick fence separating the house behind us with the one next door, and headed for the crossover and the white house on the left side of it.
The front door was wide open, an invitation to enter if ever I saw one, and one I wasn’t foolish enough to accept. Instead, I followed the asphalt path down the side of the house to the gate, pushing it open with a blast of wind and running on to the end of the double-story building. I paused briefly, scanning the backyard, looking for any hint of fog or vapor to suggest the thief was still here.
There was nothing to be seen, but a tremor now ran through the ground. The bastard was tunneling again.
I swore, gathered another whip of wind and flung it toward what seemed to be the epicenter of the trembling, then chased after it. I’d barely gone a few yards when the ground stopped moving. The wind trailed back to me, whispering of earth closing down on top of it, sheering it in half.
The bastard hadn’t been opening a new tunnel, he’d been closing it down behind him.
I swore once again but nevertheless continued on. A thick hedge of common box divided the yard from the golf course beyond, but there was no gateway cut through it that would have provided access onto the course. That shouldn’t have been a problem for our vaporous thief, of course, but for whatever reason, he’d obviously regained human formbeforehand,then dived through the hedge, leaving behind a broken mess of branches, leaves, and a thick song of distress.
Why? It made absolutely no sense. Even if hehadcreated his escape tunnel just beyond the hedge, why not simply keep to his vaporous form until he’d reached its safety? Why become flesh and blood and then inflict damage on himself by diving through such a thick hedge? And he obviouslyhadsuffered multiple cuts—even from here I could see the small bits of material and maybe even some hair fluttering in the shattered pathway he’d made. There’d also likely be some blood, though I couldn’t immediately see the dark gleam of it.
The common box’s song of distress sharpened as I stopped in front of it; perhaps the rivers of golden life that pulsed through the thick greenery sensed the closeness of someone who could ease their agony. I slipped deep into the flow, carefully chased down every broken end, and then looped the rivers away from each point. It would mean some die off in the plant overall, but with the still-healthy flow of energies intact further down the branches and limbs, the gap would eventually close over.
As I pulled out of the rivers, the wind stirred yet again, though this time it was filled with nothing more than the warning of impending rain and the wail of sirens. I dragged my phone out of my pocket to check the time; it was close to six, which hopefully meant it would be Sgott’s crew in those cars rather than Ruadhán’s. But if itwasthe latter, I only had a couple of minutes, if that, to take advantage of the back door being wide open.
I ran back up the yard. While neither the Eye nor my instincts were giving any indication that danger or a trap waited inside the back half of the house—as it had when I’d run past the front door—I nevertheless paused before entering and listened to the building’s rich, warm song. There was nothing untoward within it. Nothing to suggest anyone was currently inside the home. I nevertheless connected to the rivers and quickly skimmed through them, looking for any “hot spots” that would indicate someone standing or sitting within.
