Drip. Drip. Drip.
He couldn’t tell what it used to be, the walls painted in entrails and shit to the point it looked fake, a horror movie set. Everything looked too shiny, plastic. What would have been the door further into the building had been locked tight, the edges sealed with a hardened green sludge.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Axel counted three heads, two torsos and more limbs than he cared to total pilled in each corner, the centre what looked to be a bed made out of skin. The floor was tacky, red coating the entire thing as the pitter patter of blood dripped from the fresh kill on one of the piles.
“It’s a nest.” Axel pulled out as quickly as he could, happy to breathe in the cleaner air of the outside, despite the smell now escaping. “Was protected by glamour, which is why the scent barrier has been broken.”
“You said there may be others?”
“Doubt they’ll come back here now the glamour has been destroyed.” Axel stood to his full height. “Do you have your phone? Because I’m going to need to call in the cleaners.”
Chapter11
Sam
Sam wasn’t sure why he still stood there, the stench of death wrapping around him like tentacles slowly forcing the air from his lungs. It was nauseating, but he wasn’t finished with Axel. There was too much left unsaid, their last conversation leaving a sour taste in his mouth. Despite what Sam had said, they were friends. At least, he thought so anyway.
There was never anything more, and Axel had made it clear that there wouldn’t be. Which was absolutely-fucking-fine because Sam drew a line with the Guardians anyway. Especially ones who liked to fuck with his head.
“This is the largest nest we have ever seen,” Viktor, one of the cleaners said with an audible tut. He wrote something down on his clipboard, nodding to his wife who stood by his side.
“Yes,” Viktoria replied, frowning up at Axel. “This is going to cost extra.”
Sam leaned against the brick wall to the side, out of the way as he watched the two witches talk to Axel. They looked like dolls, both barely reaching five-foot and dressed in a pressed black suit and matching pencil-skirt dress. Not one hair was out of place, Viktoria’s makeup was applied perfectly while Viktor’s patent shoes didn’t have a single smudge. They weren’t like any cleaners he’d ever seen, not to mention their perfect upper-class English accents.
He’d been ignored for the past ten minutes as Axel explained the details, and he wasn’t upset by it. Both of the cleaners reeked of ozone, their magic oozing out of their pores so much it made Sam’s nose twitch, not to mention that both carried themselves with such superiority that Sam was a little intimidated. Both their irises were pure obsidian, matching their dark, perfectly styled hair, and if Sam hadn’t smelt the ozone he would’ve put money down that they were vampires. They even moved like the bloodsuckers, each movement precise and thought out.
Viktor cleared his threat, nose wrinkling as he opened the briefcase that sat by his feet. With a click the gold clasps opened, and he rummaged inside the red velvet that was as bright as a bloodstain. Without a word he pulled out a crystal, white and about the size of his thumb.
“Da?” he asked, turning to his wife who nodded, just a single dip of her head. Reaching for his briefcase once more, he closed the claps, setting it in exactly the same place as it was before. Staring at the crystal in his palm he whispered, the words not carrying on the wind before he carefully placed it at the mouth of the nest.
The stomach-recoiling stench stopped, and Sam had never been so thankful for clean air.
“You,” Viktoria barked, turning to face him. “Who are you? Civilian?”
Sam flicked his gaze at Axel, who refused to meet his eyes before returning his attention to the witch.
“Does he need to be taken care of?” she asked Axel, but remained facing Sam. “That will be extra, too.”
Sam’s spine stiffened before Axel said, “No. He’s with me.”
Viktoria sniffed, upper lip curled. Her next words were muffled, and it took a second to realise she was speaking in Russian. Sam blinked dumbly, wondering if she was speaking to him until Viktor replied in the same language.
“We accept the job,” Viktoria said, returning to English, her accent once again perfect. “We will send the invoice to Mr Storm, as usual.”
“Of course,” Axel said, bowing his head slightly. “We appreciate your discretion, Viktoria. Viktor.”
Viktoria dismissed him with a flick of her hand. “Be gone, druid. We need to work, and swiftly,” she grumbled. “You called us too late. That will cost extra.”
Viktor nodded, brushing his palms down his already perfectly pressed lapels.
Axel pursed his lips, gaze to the ground as he stepped towards Sam, gesturing for them both to leave. Sam followed in step, only turning to look back down the alley when they reached the road. Except he could see nothing, neither witch, hole nor remains of the hound. Nothing but perfect, unmarked brick.
“Those guys are fucking terrifying,” Sam said when Axel paused beside him, a shock of heat against his skin that his leopard wanted to wrap himself up in. It was a confusing reaction, one he had never really experienced. Not with the people he slept with, and not even with the single boyfriend that was a failed experiment.
“You should be.” Axel cleared his throat. “There’s a reason they’re on retainer and paid big money.” His attention dropped to Sam’s t-shirt, expression not changing.
