And everyone forgot that monsters had ever been real.
In the white-hot glare of the twenty-first century, no one believes in monsters any more. But they’re still here, more dangerous and more powerful than ever. Someone has to save us.
It takes a thief to catch a thief . . . And a monster to kill a monster.
Chapter One
THE CHOP SHOP
Late-night cafés stand alone, like campfires holding out against the fall of night. Offering solace to their customers, from endless empty evenings and mean rooms no one ever visits. Daniel Carter, tall and lanky, dark-haired and dark-eyed, sat alone at his table in a café in old Soho. Outside it was cold, inside it was warm; but that was really all you could say in its favor. Daniel hadn’t been there long, and already he was wishing he were somewhere else.
He glanced casually round the café. This late in the evening there were only a handful of customers, all of them quietly intent on their own business. Daniel sipped some more coffee he didn’t want, and shifted uncomfortably inside his suit. He hadn’t been in plainclothes long, and he was still getting used to it.
He had thought ditching his uniform, and moving up in rank would mean he finally got to work the kind of cases that mattered, but all he did was sit behind a desk, moving papers from one pile to another. Not at all what he’d had in mind, when he first made the decision to join the police.
Daniel allowed himself another quick glance at his watch. He’d arrived early, because he’d been too impatient not to, but someone should have joined him by now. For want of anything better to do, he studied the two waitresses in their shocking pink uniforms. Angels of mercy, sisters of the night, dispensing cups of coffee in place of benedictions. The senior waitress was leaning heavily on the counter, defiantly smoking her cigarette right under the Thank You For Not Smoking sign, while the junior waitress darted in and out of the tables, doing all the real work.
Daniel looked round sharply as the door opened, and was surprised to see Paul Mayer, of all people. Easygoing, lazily handsome, and always that little bit overweight, Paul had never been known to give a damn about anything. He looked quickly round the café, dismissed everyone but Daniel, and sat down opposite him. They barely had time to nod to each other before the young waitress came bustling over with her jug of steaming coffee and a new cup.
“Black,” said Paul.
“Like your heart?” said Daniel.
“Maybe not that black,” said Paul. He waited till his cup was full, and then slapped a handful of change on the table. “Don’t hurry back, love.”
The waitress scooped up the money and retreated to the counter. She knew a lost cause when she heard one. Paul tried the coffee, pulled a face, and put the cup down.
“So, Danny boy, it’s been a while since we last got together. I take it you’re also here for the highly secret briefing?”
“You don’t think I’m drinking this stuff by choice, do you?” said Daniel.
“Why did we have to meet in this dump?” said Paul. “I feel like I’m raising the tone just by being here—and that isn’t like me.”
“I was told this operation would be very definitely off the books and under the radar,” said Daniel. “Which of course isn’t at all worrying.”
“Someone is going to want us to volunteer,” Paul said gloomily. “To do something risky, to benefit someone else.”
“But something that just might be in our best interests, if we can pull it off,” said Daniel. “That’s how our betters always bait the hook.”
The two young men nodded slowly, contemplating the way of the world.
“That is some suit you’re wearing,” said Paul. “Was it on sale?”
“At least I look respectable,” said Daniel. “You look like you stole yours off a homeless person.”
“He didn’t put up much of a struggle,” said Paul. He looked thoughtfully at Daniel. “It’s been what . . . three years? Since we started out in training together?”
Daniel nodded. “Where does the time go, when your career’s going nowhere?”
“You too?” said Paul. “Hard to believe we were the high fliers; the ones who were going to make our mark in record time. But, you can’t fight the system . . . ”
“I thought we were supposed to be fighting the bad guys,” said Daniel.
Paul started to raise his cup, remembered, and put it down again. “Why did you want to be a copper, originally?”
“To help people,” said Daniel. “To protect them from all the scumbags who prey on the vulnerable. To fight monsters. You?”
“I just thought it would better to be one of those giving the orders, than those who had to take them,” said Paul.
“You do surprise me,” said Daniel. “I thought you were only in it for the money.”
“Well, that too,” said Paul.
They laughed quietly together, and then looked round quickly as the door swung open and two more familiar faces entered the café. Oscar Marsh was a large, sturdy type in a heavy fur coat, while Nigel Rutherford was a tall, slender aristocrat in a very expensive suit. They both smiled at Daniel and Paul, and pulled up chairs to join them.
“It’s the Bear!” said Paul. “I can’t believe you’re still wearing that same old animal pelt, Oscar.”
“Fur never goes out of style,” said Oscar, in his deep rumble of a voice.
“Still visiting the old family tailor?” Daniel said to Nigel.
“Money never goes out of fashion,” Nigel murmured. “I have to say . . . it does my heart good to see you chaps again, but I’m not sure I like this. What are the odds that four ambitious types who started out together would be selected for the same clandestine meeting?”
He broke off as the young waitress showed up with her coffee jug, only to retreat again in the face of clear disinterest. She hurried back behind the counter to be comforted by the older waitress, who knew plainclothes cops when she saw them.
“I take it you two received the same mysterious summons we did?” said Daniel.
“And that your careers aren’t everything you thought they were going to be?” said Paul.
“Got it in one,” said Oscar.
“The word ‘promotion’ was mentioned,” Nigel said diffidently.
“I just want work that matters,” said Daniel.
“Still the Boy Scout,” said Paul, not unkindly.
“Somebody has to be,” said Daniel.
“But why you?” said Nigel.
“Because people who choose to be monsters, when they could be people, offend the hell out of me,” said Daniel. “Life is hard enough without the bad guys making it worse.”
They glanced round one last time as the door banged open, and then they all sat up straight. Alicia Gill was the youngest police commissioner ever—a short, blond powerhouse packed full of authority and ambition, with a face that might have been attractive if she ever smiled. She was out of uniform too, though wearing something too expensive to be properly anonymous. The four police officers started to rise to their feet in the presence of a superior officer, but Gill glared them into quickly sitting down again. She hauled a chair across from the next table, dropped into it, and set her briefcase down beside her. The young waitress started forward hopefully, but Gill stopped her with a look.
Paul fixed Gill with an equally hard stare. “So. Why are we here, Commissioner?”
“Call me Gill,” she said sharply. “And keep your voice down, because officially I am not here and this meeting never happened. Now pay attention; I have a job for you.”