“To force me to do things for them?”
“That’s what I’ve been wondering. Not sure how it would work. They could inflict so much pain you’d want to comply.”
“Comply or die.”
“Comply or suffer. Suffering is their speciality.”
“But they could use it to kill me?”
“Well, yes.”
I rip the tape off my finger and look at the three tiny tattoos. They all go through to the bone. I take out my penknife and prick the tattoo by my nail, wondering if I will feel anything in my neck.
“Nothing?” Trev asks.
I shake my head.
“It has to be in a bottle, with the correct spell.”
“How soon would they have amputated?”
“I would think they would want to check the tattoos were deep and had healed fully. A few days, no more than a week. Then they would test it. And, of course, if it didn’t quite work, you’ve got nine other fingers.”
“They could still do it? I mean if they caught me, chopped off my finger?”
“Oh, yes. It’s permanent. A permanent problem. You can’t remove them.”
“I thought they were some sort of brand or a tracking device.”
“They aren’t for tracking,” Trev says. “But, yes, they are a brand. I think that the tattoo will show whatever you become . . . I mean if you have the Gift to transform, the brand will still be there.”
“And there’s definitely no way to remove them?”
“You could cut off your leg and your finger, but you’d still be left with the problem of your neck.”
There’s shouting from outside. Fains.
Trev glances to the window and pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and stuffs it in my hand. “How to get to Mercury is on there.”
I push the paper deep into my pocket saying, “Thank you, Trev. Thank you for everything.”
Trev holds the shopping bag out to me, saying, “These are all your skin and bone samples. You must destroy them. Burn them. If the Council get them they could make a witch’s bottle with them. A crude one . . . but still.”
I peer into the bag. There are the plastic dishes with bits of blood in them.
He adds, “Just so there’s no doubt. Ever. From anyone . . . that I kept anything of you.”
I think he’s worried about my father.
Glass smashes in the room above.
We drop low and freeze.
Another smash . . . but farther away, from a different house. Shouts.
I peer out the window.
“Shit!” I duck down and tell Trev, “Hunters.”
I raise my head again to look. A Hunter is walking down the street, and there’s a gang of three fains throwing stones at her. She doesn’t look that bothered. They only work in pairs, though, so there’ll be another in the backstreets somewhere.
I drop down again, saying, “We’ve got to go.”
We run to the back of the house. The door is locked and bolted. The bolts won’t budge. I smash the window with my elbow and kick through the glass and we’re climbing out. At the back wall I give Trev a lift over the gate, which is nailed shut, and I scramble after him, looking left and right at the top.
Nothing. No one.
We run.
A few roads away we slow down, though I keep checking behind.
Trev looks like he’s going to be sick. He’s beyond caring what I owe him, so I give him most of my cash and say, “Thanks, Trev. If you ever need anything . . . I mean . . . you know . . .”
We shake hands and he leaves in one direction and I go in the other.
I feel for the piece of paper in my pocket. It’s still there.
Then I realize I haven’t got the plastic bag.
I can hardly believe that I have been that stupid, but I have. I’m sure I didn’t drop it. I think I put it down when I was giving Trev a lift over the wall.
Hunters
I could leave without the plastic bag, hope that it just looks like rubbish, but . . . but, but, but. Never underestimate the enemy. If White Witches get that stuff, the bits of me, they won’t need my finger; they might be able to make a witch’s bottle with my skin and blood and bone.
I retrace my steps to the house. There’s no plastic bag in the alley, in the backyard of the house or in the house itself. There is no sign of the Hunters either.
Shit!
From the front room of the house I can see both ways up the street. It’s empty. I sit on the floor to try to work out my next move.
The Hunters were on to Bob, and now Jim and Trev, but I’m not being tracked. If they knew that I was here there’d be twenty Hunters, not two. They probably don’t know what’s in the bag, but they might know that Trev had been carrying it.
There’s shouting outside. I scramble over to the window to peer out, and duck down a second later to get my breath and to get my head into gear. The Hunter is back, as are the three stone-throwing fains. The Hunter is carrying the plastic shopping bag. She must still be looking for Trev.
I scoot upstairs to get a better view of the Hunter. She’s slim and tall and picking up stones to throw back.
“She a friend of yours?”
I turn round.
A big girl in a hoodie is standing at the back of the room.
“No, but she will have a friend. She won’t be alone. There’s bound—”
“Her mate’s around the back. Seen her already.” The girl folds her arms and looks me up and down. “I thought you were one of them, but you’re different. What are you?”
“Different.”
“Well, I don’t like them and I don’t like you.”
The shouting has stopped and I turn back to the window. One of the fains is on the ground, flat out, unconscious or dead. The big girl is next to me, and she’s looking too.
“Is she here because of you?”
I’m looking at the Hunter. She’s backed up to the house opposite and whistling a signal for her partner.
“No.” That is technically true, as I think they must have been following Trev. “Look, I’m leaving . . . soon. I just need to get that plastic bag back.”
“So, it is you they’re after? Should I give you to them?”
I keep watching the Hunter, and I grin but don’t turn round. “You could try.”
The other Hunter appears and more stones are thrown.
I shake my head. “Throwing stones won’t get rid of them.”
“My brother’s on his way. He’s got a gun.”
“They’ve got guns.”
The fain lad is lying in the street, not moving. I say, “Do you think you should call an ambulance for your friend?”
“If I thought it’d turn up I might.”
Two more fains have appeared, but they are all hanging back. Both Hunters are standing close to the kid on the ground. They actually look quite nervous. They won’t want a lot of fain attention. If anyone gets a phone out to film them, they’ll be out of there. I can’t let them run off with my stuff.
I pull my scarf on tight and am out of the front door in seconds. I grab two bricks as I march toward the Hunters. The Hunters are by the prone fain. I hope I look like his pissed-off friend.
“What’ve you done to my mate?” I add a few swear words.
The Hunters stand still, watching me, like they can’t believe I’m going to do anything serious. But I keep on coming. The farthest one pulls her gun and I speed up as she shouts, “Stop!”
As if that’s going to stop me.
I hit the first one with a brick on the side of her face and use her body to shield me as I charge the other one.
A shot, another, and then I’m kicking the gun out of her hand and it’s sliding across the road. The bricked Hunter is out of it on the ground. I’m in a crouch. The other Hunter is too, and now she has a knife in her hand.