Where was my fabled vampire strength now, I wondered. And why the fuck couldn’t I summon a vicious dose of Fae magic either? Just my luck to have the kind of shitty abilities that only worked when I wasn’t conscious of using them. I felt as empowered as a newborn kitten.
Time passed. The shed remained dark and cold. I was hungry, thirsty, and fucking murderous. I was going to kill Stanno if he dared show his face. I spent a few enjoyable minutes fantasising about all the ways I would hurt him, how I’d watch him beg and plead, before I adapted my fantasy and had Dalziel tear him limb from limb instead while I looked on. The reality was I was desperate for a piss, and shit scared I’d be found here dead from starvation and exposure when spring came, identifiable only by my dental records. I wasn’t very brave, I realised.
* * *
I must have nodded off.A rhythmic tap-tap-tap penetrated my soggy brain. It took a while before I recognised the sound of raindrops on a tin roof. Or perhaps a corrugatedironroof. A quick glance about me confirmed my suspicions about the corrugated part. But maybe iron these days wasn’t actually iron, but just called that. I knew bugger all about construction, but regardless, I should at least try to dosomething.I summoned what little energy I had, and concentrated it all into my centre, trying to visualise it as a ball of fire, or destructive ice. I had no idea what my magic comprised of, but seeing as I’d temporarily frozen Dalziel and Baxter, channelling extreme elements seemed a good place to start.
Absofuckinglutely nothing happened. Which sucked, but it also comforted me that perhaps I wasn’t quite as weedy as I feared, but hampered by my Fae blood in this dingy hellhole.
I tried sawing at my restraints again, but the angle and the lack of a proper sharp edge to rub against made it a torturous endeavour. Water began to seep through a crack in the roof, so I abandoned the filing attempt in order to shuffle over and catch some of the drops in my mouth. They were vile, tasting of fuck knows what — probably moss and bird shit — but each drip was nectar to my parched mouth. I dozed again.
* * *
The clatterand screech of a lock and deadbolt had me jerking instantly awake. Stanno edged into the shed, a bandana wrapped around the lower half of his face, and a wrench grasped in his hand like he expected to have to fight me off. If only. He snapped a switch, and a bare light bulb flamed my sensitive eyeballs. I held back a wince, and scowled at him. “Nice of you to join me, Stanno. The facilities are shit. I’m leaving a bad review on Yelp, just so you know.”
He fixed the door behind him, then turned to glare at me. “How d’you know it’s me?” He eyeballed me nervously, then tugged the bandana down with a resigned slump of his shoulders.
I sighed. “I just did. Now could you get the fuck over whatever’s wedged up your arse and let me go? I saw nothing, did nothing, and know nothing. Plus, I really need to piss.”
I should not have antagonised him. With a muted roar he was on me, dragging me upright with a meaty paw around my neck. “Do not fuck with me, you little punk,” he snarled, sour-beer spittle dotting my cheeks. “You’re gonna tell me everything.”
An unmanly whimper escaped before I could prevent it. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know if you let me take a leak.” I knew I could withstand the cold, and my hunger, but I wasn’t sure I’d cope with the indignity of pissing my pyjamas.
Stanno seemed to be considering. Then, “If I take you outside, you even think about making a break for it, I’ll snap your arms, got it?” He twisted me in his grasp in a way that put even more pressure on my shoulder joint, and I saw stars.
“Just let me piss, Stanno. I swear I won’t fight you.” I didn’t have much chance of throwing off my restraints anyway, but with him looming over me, it was almost none. I couldn’t even position myself to take a bite out of him; he had me firmly at arm’s length. What I did have, however, was a slim shot at releasing one burst of magic. If only I could get clear enough of the shack to make my effort count. Assuming, of course, I wasn’t just a wimp, and the shack had nothing to do with my current weakness.
There was nothing outside besides a few straggly trees, a rusting pile of metal in a corner by a fence, and fields either side of us. Stanno’s bike was hidden from passers-by under a partially collapsed car port. The stone foundations of an ancient, burnt-out building was between us and the road. I knew where I was now — Thatcher’s Hollow, out across the other side of town, but I doubted knowing would do me any good.
Stanno dragged me along to the fence, and tilted me towards it at a forty-five degree angle, giving my pyjama trousers a sharp downwards tug. “Hurry up,” he growled. I was too desperate to have any performance anxiety, and my relief was instantaneous. He shook me like a dog, and wrenched my pants up again. I had moments left.
I pretended to stumble, and fell against him, buying me a precious extra second. As he righted me with a curse, I concentrated everything I had into sending that ball of fury I’d been gathering into a blast ofsomething. I felt it ripple outwards, like the echo of a bell ringing, and as a slight tingle in my fingertips. Stanno swore, but immediately refastened his grip on me and shoved me in front of him. Inside the shed, he swung me around and thrust me down onto the broken car seat. Shaking out his fingers, he gave me a baleful glare. “The fuck is wrong with you? How did you give me an electric shock?”
I felt tears prick my eyelids. I’d failed. I’d fucking failed.
I didn’t get time to dwell on my pathetic attempt at saving myself. Stanno kicked the base of the seat. “Where did he hide it then? C’mon, I don’t have all day.” He lit a fag with hands that weren’t entirely steady, and blew the smoke directly in my face.
The burn in my shoulder blades, coupled with the disappointment, made me fuzzy-brained. “Who hid what? I don’t know, Stanno. What are you looking for?”
Snarling, he loomed over me again. “The fucking cash, moron. The drug money.” I watched his throat work, the agitated way he rolled the cigarette between his fingers. “Chip, for fuck’s sake! I know you were seeing him. Stupid arse always did think with his dick and not his brain.” He flicked the ash over the floor and shook his head, digging his fingers into his eye sockets as if trying to unsee something. “Can’t believe he’s dead. Why the fuck did he have to fight back?”
I blinked up at him, my heart racing. Did I understand that right? Stanno had killed Chip? I had to say something. “Money? I don’t know anything about any money.” I tried desperately to make my tongue work in my desert-dry mouth. “I wasn’t seeing Chip.”Think, Charley, think.“But if you let me loose, I’ll help you. I have access to all the store cupboards at The Dive and The Lion. Perhaps he hid something there?”
He backhanded me hard, the threatened tears now a reality as fresh pain sliced through my head. “God, and I thought you had half a brain on you.” He scoffed. “You were fired. You have access to sweet F A.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot.” I stared up at him, willing to beg. “I can’t think, Stanno. I’m thirsty. And cold.”
“Huh.” He appeared to be thinking. “You can stay thirsty and cold. Might prompt you to answer me next time. I’ll be back. Don’t go running off anywhere.” His smile was a dark promise. “You’ll have plenty of time to think.” He flicked the light switch and plunged me back into darkness. “I won’t be so easy on ya when I return.” The door clanged shut, and I was alone again.
41
LUC
It wasweird as hell meeting Charley’s parents for the first time when I was unable to identify myself or even say hello. We breezed into their bungalow without a hitch, the thrall working just as Baxter said it would. As soon as I stepped over the threshold, the scent of Charley overrode everything else. It punched my wolf senses so hard, I stopped dead on the door mat and whined.
“What’s wrong with your dog?” Charley’s dad said, his tone urgent.
Sorley bent down and did a great impression of a concerned handler checking me over. “He’s extremely sensitive,” he said, managing to make it sound like a flaw. “He seems fine. Perhaps he’s picked up on the tension. You’re obviously very worried.” He gave my harness a quick jerk. “Perhaps we should see where you think your son was abducted from?”
