“Hang on a tick. We’re missing something.” Gethin could feel something important scratching at his brain.Think. Faster, dude.
When it came to him, so did an icy spike of terror. “Alec,” he said carefully. “I don’t think there’s a mage at all. I think Cormackisthe mage, as well as the vampire.”
“Putain!That is bad news.” Alec sighed again. “I also think you are right. It is totally logical, with the combined scents. We have been blind.”
“Yeah. I’ll call Marlowe. You update Edwin?”
Gethin dialled Marlowe’s number. It rang and rang, and eventually clicked to the answerphone. “Marlowe Reed is unable to take your call right now. Leave a message please.” Gethin cut the call and cursed under his breath. He sent the same text to both Alec and Edwin.
Marlowe not answering. I’m going to look for Sorley.
47
SORLEY
Fucking hell,Cormack was fast. Sorley exploded from the far end of the alley, then stopped as if he’d slammed into a brick wall while his eyes darted left and right for a nanosecond. Going left would lead to the river. Not yet, not until he knew the others were nearby. He shot off in the opposite direction, his shoes barely touching the ground as he dodged between two cars and crossed the road, Cormack fewer than half a dozen paces behind him. Across the crossroads and into the wide pedestrian area of Briggate.Shit shit shit.Too many people. Even though he was moving like a blur, he still had to dodge around folk, and it was a balmy enough night there were groups and couples moving between bars and restaurants.
He darted across the pale bricks at breakneck speed, hurling himself between a pair of blokes who were arguing, hung a tight left and sped full tilt through the entrance to the Trinity shopping centre. Cormack was still right behind him. There was a garbled scream of, “The hell was that, Mike?” but it didn’t concern him so he ran on. He didn’t want to think about the number of security cameras they were pinging as they flew along the covered walkways. With the work involved in wiping this lot, Baxter might well kill him — if Cormack didn’t get there first. They were hardly staying out of sight, or trouble, but he prayed they were moving too fast to be identified.
Some tiny corner of his brain reminded him there was a dead end ahead. Hoping it would buy him a precious few extra moments, he charged straight on towards the far end of the centre, mentally crossing his fingers this would work. If it didn’t—Well, he didn’t want to think about that.
He took the jump like a pole vaulter who’d lost his pole but believed in it anyway, the toes of one foot catching the top of the low wall surrounding the escalator and propelling him skywards. With luck on his side and a grunt of pain, he slammed into the guard rail of the small gallery above him at the same time his fingers managed to curl around the top. He flung himself over the rail and got to his feet, looking down at Cormack below him, whose face was a mask of disbelief. If he’d had more time, Sorley would have enjoyed the furious expression that surged across his features a moment later.
Above him, the paned glass dome gave him a view of the sky, still overcast. As he glanced around, willing his plan to work, a faintplip, plipsignified the beginning of rain. Good; with any luck, folk would stay inside, or grab taxis and stop wandering about the bloody streets and let him finish this wanker off.
Cormack was circling the escalators, evidently trying to work out what to do next. He had to know that the second he began to climb, he would be at a disadvantage, as Sorley would have gravity on his side as well as a better view of the pair of them. He didn’t strike Sorley as the patient sort, so he was unlikely to wait it out until the approaching dawn caught up with them, or until Sorley was able to summon reinforcements.
Oh for fuck’s sake.Mentally giving himself a sharp slap for being so slow, Sorley pulled out his mobile, taking time to insert his earbud this time. Who to call though? In the end, he dialled Baxter, his conscience nipping him over the security cameras.
“Sor, are you all righ—”
“I don’t have much time,” he cut across her, one eye still on Cormack. “Listen, I’m sorry. City centre, cameras. Briggate, Trinity…” He dropped his voice to the merest whisper, then, “Albion, then south if he doesn’t get me first.” He gave her a second. “You got all that?”
“Course, babe.” Her tone was strained. He could hear her fingernails clicking at lightning speed. “You holding up okay? Where is the…” She faltered for a second, before spitting out, “the…reprobate?”Ooh, she was stressed to resort to the language she grew up with.
“Cormack? Right below me.” He chuffed a brief, unamused laugh, then explained. “He’s off his rocker, Bax. This could be a close call.”Please don’t get sentimental on me now, girl.
“Babes, you have to listen. New intel suggests Cormack is a vampanda mage. Be super fucking careful.”
“Aye, lass, not long worked it out myself.”Sorley spared himself a single solitary second to panic, then murmured, “Say nice things at my memorial service, please?”
Her answer was a sympathetic grunt before he heard her inhale. Uh oh, speech time. Some things never changed.
“Don’t you ever give me that loser tone again, Hetheridge-Parker. It’s pathetic and embarrassing, ya hear me? Kick his sorry arse into the middle of next week and spit on his ashes. I’ll accept nothing less.”
In spite of Connor Cormack circling below, and the very real fear he might not be quite fast or smart enough to outrun him, Sorley felt a grin tease the corners of his lips.
“You’re the best, girl.”
“You know it. Now get moving. Ooh, hello, I can see you. Wave for the camera, sweets.” She giggled briefly. By the gods, this woman loved her job. “I promise not to wipe any tapes of your victory until I’ve taken a copy for you. I’m also texting your crew on the ground so don’t bother your head with anything but the task at hand. Laser focus time, innit?”
“Aye. Look, Baxter, about Jasper—”
“Sorley!” Again she cut him off. “Don’t say it, but yes, of course I will. You know I will. Now fuck off and show the vile prick how stupid it is to mess with a badass ginger Geordie. I’ve got this end. I love you, Sor.” The line went dead.
Shit, the L word. Now heknewshe was worried about him.
He rechecked the angles from his lofty position once more, suddenly immensely grateful for his choice of leisure activities. Pole dancing was the best use of his spare time he could have imagined; he’d never have dared attempt this without all the practice he’d had flipping his body around in mid air. He had one chance, and he dared not fuck this up. Without giving himself time to overthink, he whistled loudly.
