“Your punishment didn’t fit your crime. You escaped before I could enjoy watching your breakdown.”
“You were damn lucky I didn’t go feral and get dusted by a Council member,” Sorley shot back. “Have you any idea how lethal that concoction is you cooked up?”
Cormack’s grin was so devoid of humanity, it sent shivers down Sorley’s spine.
“I am a genius, am I not? Sometimes my magic is more than evenIcould ever have imagined.” His eyes became unfocused, almost dreamy, although his stance suggested he wasn’t likely to allow Sorley to move. “I do hope I don’t have to keep using it on you now we’re finally reunited.”
“You’d keep drugging me?” Sorley didn’t know why he was surprised. It wasn’t as if Cormack had shown any consideration for his welfare before now.
“I won’t have a choice if you fight me. Thrall only goes so far, and it’s not my strongest gift.” Another shrug. Another manic grin. “Why do you think your harem haven’t rushed to your aid? I managed to successfully replicate my scent and turn it into a spray. I have no doubt it’s leading your friends a merry dance through the city as I speak. Further away from me, and from you.” He gestured at the tarmacked ground in front of them. “Shall we?”
Fuck.Of course, Sorley shouldn’t have underestimated this bastard. Heknewit had seemed too easy, from the moment James had arrived on his doorstep, to being able to work out the identity of Cormack from the poor lad, then the assumption that the only logical place to meet the maniac was the Delirium nightclub. Sorley wasn’t overly concerned about the ability of his fellow vampires to remain safe — if Cormack had been working with a team, there was no way he’d have been able to stay under the radar as long as he had — but it did put him, Sorley, rather out on a proverbial limb.
Mentally kicking himself for having been rash enough to accept things at face value, even though they’d had no alternative options, Sorley sighed to himself. Cormack was primed to attack right now, and Sorley hadn’t yet got enough of a read on him to be certain of winning. If, as he’d suggested earlier to the others, he drew Cormack away from the city centre, there was a bigger chance of cornering him somewhere without humans in view, and with any luck, twisting the fucker’s head clean off his shoulders. The bespoke stake he carried in its leather case was strapped to his back under his shirt, but he would need a breathing space in which to retrieve it. No point prowling into range of the hunter and handing him a weapon on a plate. He wondered for a split second if he had time to phone Marlowe, in case Cormack had been able to extend his magical fuckery to the flat, but his phone was stowed deep in his trouser pocket; losing even the tiny fraction of his concentration to extricate it would give Cormack time to pounce. He should have put his Bluetooth earpiece in.
Out of options, he leapt.
46
GETHIN
Gethin was beginningto realise how useful a vampire’s exceptional hearing was. As he huddled in the protection of a darkened corner of a rooftop, with an earbud Bluetoothed to his phone, he didn’t even have to strain to pick up the faintest whispers coming from the others as they checked in.
Based on the little James had been able to tell them, Connor didn’t live near the river, and he didn’t recall hearing any trains, although he wasn’t necessarily reliable considering his hearing issues. It wasn’t Cormack who’d dropped him off at the flat — some man he didn’t know — and he’d been blindfolded for the journey so he couldn’t be sure of the direction he’d come from, although his gut told him it was from the north. It was a flimsy guess, but the best they had. And because Cormack had gone to some effort to keep his current dwelling a secret, and was, they assumed, completely unhinged, the group had agreed it was slightly more likely than not that Cormack would attempt to overcome Sorley, and having subdued him, would take him back to his lair. Gethin had balked at the descriptor ‘lair’ as being too like something out of a horror film. Alec had arched his dark brows and solemnly asked him if he really thought they were living through anythingbuta horror film.
“C’est un véritable cauchemar, mon vieux,” he said, worry leeching from his pores as he stood looking up at Gethin. “A lair is the perfect description, don’t you think? We must not live in a fantasy world where we believe everyone listens to the dictates of the Council. For every vampire like Dalziel who wishes only to build harmony between the species, there are many more like this Cormack who rail against any attempt at civilisation.”
Gethin had tried to disguise his shudder, but knew he’d failed when Edwin, not generally known for his sensitivity, had thumped him on the back. “You’ll get used to it,” he assured him. “After a century or so you’ll realise just how fucking awful people can be, human, vampire or any other sodding species. There’s a reason the Council are struggling to get numbers up.”
“There’s seriously that much resistance?” He hadn’t realised. Perhaps, he thought, he’d been too busy hiding away from the world in a vain attempt to convince himself he was straight. Denial had a way of blurring a lot of the edges.
Sorley had just rolled his eyes and told Gethin that even Dalziel being his sire hadn’t persuaded him to join. “And he keeps reminding me I’m a ‘respectable, upstanding’” — he made finger quotes — “member of the vampire community.”
Gethin raised his eyebrows in question. Sorley shrugged. “I don’t much like being told what to do. Had enough of that in the army.”
And by your father,thought Gethin, but wisely kept his mouth shut.
None of that made much difference to Gethin right now, as he wondered where the hell Sorley was and what could possibly be delaying him and this Cormack monster for so long. The street he was positioned above was currently devoid of almost all life, his senses confirming there was certainly no hint of a vampiric showdown. Small mercies, he guessed. He thumbed Edwin’s number on his phone, then pressed .
“Can’t you seeanything?”he asked plaintively before Edwin spoke. “I’m getting concerned.”
“Nothing near the club, not a sniff of either of them. Alec’s following the scent we noted outside the flat. It’s not taking him anywhere we expected.”
Gethin swore. Alec, his sense of smell honed by six hundred years of practice, had placed himself on the far outskirts of where they’d expected to pick up any vague scents if Cormack or his mage helper moved swiftly. Edwin was the closest to the club, because if Cormack disguised himself, his tracking expertise was considered the best with the fewest clues. Gethin had been stationed closer to the river as he’d reluctantly agreed he had the least experience and would be an easier target for Cormack to maim or even kill. The Council information about him stated merely his name, the one grainy photo, and a suggestion he was ‘old’. “Another reason I want you as far away as possible from him,” Sorley had snarled protectively.
Another reason?Gethin wondered, as he’d pulled Sorley into one last fierce clash of tongues and teeth before Sorley had slipped out of the flat under the cover of night. He recalled now that Sorley hadn’t responded. It felt imperative to know what the other reasons might be, and if they could be pertinent to the situation.
Gethin refocused on the job in hand. “What direction is Alec headed then?” he demanded of Edwin, a touch sourly. Marsh could have just volunteered the information.
“North west. I don’t understand. None of our intel suggested Cormack would head that way. I don’t like it.”
“Me neither. I’m calling Alec.” Gethin cut their connection and jabbed at the shortcut button on his home screen. “Alec, what’s going on?”
“I am nearly at the ring road, Gethin, and I am not happy at all. I’m tracking this scent, but it is the combined scent, not what I would assume would be Cormack alone. It is also very random, and I am too fast for him to be evading me this effectively. More than smelling him, I believe I can smell a giant rat, but of what kind, I cannot as yet be sure.” There was a heavy sigh over the line. “I fear we are being toyed with.”
Fuck.“D’you think it’s possible to manufacture the scent of a person?”
There was a beat of silence. Then Alec said warily, “Do you want to call Marlowe or shall I?”
