James nodded miserably. “It’s him. That’s C—” The thrall cut him off again so he nodded more vigorously. “I can’t remember certain parts of the night. It’s like there’s a veil across my brain.”
“Definitely thrall,” Edwin said, his tone taut. “And the work of a mage, Kippen Wade, we presume, to alter his appearance that comprehensively. Cormack must be good to only erase specific parts of your memories. Or,” he paused, “bad because he can’t erase them all. Jury’s out on that for now. Anyway, Baxter said they’re analysing the close-ups to help place him in the other clubs and areas folk got hurt. It will all add up to his conviction.”
“Like there’s any doubt?” Sorley was riled. Gethin squeezed his shoulder.
“Not really, but placing you and him together, or any of the others who’ve been assaulted would be better, to avoid all doubt.”
Sorley had been peering at the screen over Edwin’s shoulder, watching the photos of Cormack and James as they appeared. Something was scratching at the corners of his mind.
“You know you and me went to Delirium?”
“Yeah.” Edwin zoomed in on a photo. “Baxter’s lot are bloody good at their job. Not sure I’d have clocked this bloke as Cormack from James’s description but I can see it now. His jaw line is unmistakable when you know what you’re looking for.” He seemed to realise Sorley wanted something. “You okay? What about the club?”
“I dunno. I think perhaps Cormack wants me to go there. There’s the faintest prickle in my brain that keeps trying to tell me something, like did we meet there the time I turned him down and he fucked me up? It’s not unheard of for me to go clubbing to places on straight nights. Especially if I’m mostly going to feed, so it’s possible. Baxter’s team only searched exclusively gay clubs as far as I know, which might be how they missed it, especially if nobody expected me to have been there, and this wanker’s been messing with his appearance. I can’t even be certain I went, but it could be worth a shot. I knowwewent to Delirium and there was nothing, but perhaps he’s waiting for me to go alone.”
45
SORLEY
“You are not goingout alone. Not a fucking chance!” Gethin looked horrified. “That’s what he wants, to get you alone. Probably so he can finish what he started.” He wrapped his arms around Sorley and gazed down at him. “You survived his first attack without going completely feral and getting yourself taken out by the Council. He was probably beside himself when you came back to Leeds, thinking he’d get another shot. Instead, you fed from James but refused to lower yourself to Cormack’s low standards and take more than you were given.” His jaw clenched and Sorley recalled how angry he’d been when Gethin had assumed he would use thrall to fuck as well as feed. Gethin wasn’t finished though. “He’s embarrassed and furious. He even sent James to us, which was a stupid move as anyone half decent could work around his thrall. Maybe he even wanted us to work it out. I guess that’s possible, right?”
James made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “You’ve fed from me?” he asked Sorley, his eyes wide.
“I did,” Sorley confirmed. “We spoke about this when you first arrived, but I suppose you weren’t in a fit state to take it in. I won’t apologise for it. I need human blood to survive. But I didn’t hurt you, I promise.”
James held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded. “Okay. I don’t remember though.”
“You wouldn’t. Most vampires are excellent at thrall.” Alec inserted himself into their eyeline. “We have to be, for the continuation of our good health, and for human safety.”
James’s eyebrows lifted. “Human safety?”
“Yes. A thirsty vampire can be reckless. Reckless vampires aren’t safe to be around. They descend into bloodlust. We can drain a human dry without thinking.”
“Huh.” James’s eyes sought out Edwin. “Guess I’d better not let you get thirsty then. Keep you in line, like the docile bloodsucking nightmare you are, right?”
There was a stunned silence at this unlikely pronouncement. Then everyone burst out laughing. Edwin crooked a finger, and the boy approached his chair.
“You and me are going to have a lot of fun, kid.” He tugged James towards him, capturing the lad’s hands in his own, going so far as to press a kiss to one palm. Sorley tried and failed not to roll his eyes, but he did at least turn away so Edwin didn’t see, and caught Gethin doing the same. Edwin’s reputation gave Sorley no expectations of a long term relationship in any form. He turned back to the photographs.
Edwin brought up everything they had of Connor Cormack. “You reckon you’d know him all right now?” he asked Sorley.
“I think so, but even if I didn’t, I’d hopefully know him by his scent. It’s a bit weird, being mixed up so closely with the mage scent, but I doubt he can change that.”
“He won’t be able to,” Marlowe interjected. “Or not enough to fool a vampire. Or a wolf,” he tacked on quickly. “Besides, I have the gut feeling he wants you to find him. Concealing himself so far has been part of the game. Now he’s ready to end it.”
“End me, you mean.”
He picked up the rapid beat of the mage’s heartbeat at the suggestion. “Well, possibly?” Marlowe said reluctantly. “We don’t really know what he wants.”
“I think we do,” Alec intoned. “He has wreaked havoc for a while. Now he wants revenge on Sorley for having slighted him. He has no guilt about hurting people of any species. If he has any shred of sanity left, he will know it can only end two ways. His demise, if he were to beat Sorley, would not be long in coming.”
“Beat Sorley? Are you suggesting my boyf—partner…” Gethin stumbled over his words, his face a mask of horror. “Are you seriously suggesting we let him goalone?”
Edwin shrugged. “Of course not, but it has to look that way. Cormack is evidently not entirely stupid, and he’s got help. If we march in mob-handed, he’ll retreat and try another tack.”
“Spoken like the soldier you were,” Sorley murmured. He understood Edwin when he spoke like this. His own years of military training and subterfuge were etched on his brain, never to be forgotten. He didn’t dare imagine the horrors Edwin had seen in the trenches of WW1.
Edwin, however, wasn’t dwelling on the past. He’d pulled up a street map of the city centre and was poring over it, looking for hiding places, rooftops, doorways and alleys, his tone bright as he explained his ideas. He called Baxter again, and with her access to the networks of street cameras across the country, there ensued a lively debate as to the best positions for everyone to take when Sorley approached the nightclub.
