‘Do it then!’
He stared at me, expressionless. ‘Do what?’
‘Cut the crap, Malik.’ I stuck my hands on my hips. ‘You’re playing the master puppeteer, busy pulling everybody’s strings in this show, so tell them to take the girl over to Bobby and let him feed.’
He stared at me, speculation in his eyes. ‘You ask a lot, Genevieve. My interference in their minds is minimal, just enough to encourage them to do what the circumstances and their training are already urging them to. And of course, to ensure they see us as nothing to be concerned with, since we do not need their medical help.’ He waved a hand in an all-encompassing gesture. ‘To direct their minds in something alien is a more difficult task.’
‘But you can do it?’
‘If I wished to.’
‘Name it,’ I sighed. ‘Your price. It’s a one-time deal, though, nothing more.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you offering me a sidhe bargain, Genevieve?’
‘It’s what you want, isn’t it?’ I said drily. ‘Why else would you be hanging around, directing the proceedings?’
‘Why else, indeed,’ he said slowly, then clapped his hands together, making me jump. ‘But it is too great an offer to be decided on in haste.’
‘Three choices then, but I get right of veto, and if I don’t like any of them, then we settle on one offer of blood, okay?’
‘Blood in whatever way I choose to enjoy it.’ He smiled slowly, letting me glimpse fang. It wasn’t a question, but an obvious statement of his intent.
My heart flip-flopped. Damn. Why did he have to be so beautiful as well as a manipulative bastard? ‘So long as no one gets hurt.’
‘So long as no one else gets physically hurt,’ he amended.
My heart flip-flopped for an entirely different reason. Specifics like that were so not good. Was I really going to make a bargain with him? I’d been planning on a mutual business-like deal, not staking my future on a magic-bound bargain. Bargains never work out well for anyone; the magic is too capricious. I looked over at Bobby, huddled on the floor: he’d lost his mother and his girlfriend and his father was in a coma. He might be a hot pin-up for fang-fans, but he was still that scared teenager I’d first met, and never mind he was a vamp, he didn’t deserve to die, not if I could help. And neither did the girl, no matter what she was here to see me about. I closed my eyes and said a brief prayer to whatever god might be listening.
‘I agree,’ I said.
‘No.’ Malik’s pupils flared briefly with bright flames. ‘I do not agree.’
My mouth fell open in shock. He was refusing? ‘What do you mean, you don’t agree?’ I demanded.
‘I do not wish to make this bargain.’
‘But what about them?’ I waved my arm at the girl and Bobby.
‘They are not part of this concern, Genevieve.’ His words slipped over me like a chill shadow on a sun-kissed autumn day and I shivered, goosebumps pricking my skin. Then his gaze turned inwards, his expression almost bordering on pain.
Around us, the hallway erupted into calm but determined action.
The hovering guard strode over to Bobby and, removing his hands from the knife, pulled it out. It came free with a wet ripping sound that had Neil Banner flinching. Bobby groaned with pain as more dark blood gushed from between his fingers. The guard moved him gently so he was lying on his side.
Grace efficiently removed the shunt from Moth-girl’s neck and the other doctor, Craig, carried her as carefully as if she were breakable to lay her alongside Bobby. Bobby’s eyes fluttered and he raised his head, lips drawing back from his fangs. A yellow gem in his headband sputtered, then fizzed out. Beside me, Malik shifted, a small movement of discomfort. Then Bobby lowered his head and Moth-girl jerked as he struck. The soft noise of sucking whispered through the hallway as Grace and Craig pulled themselves to their feet and moved over to the orange visitors’ chairs.
‘It is done,’ Malik said. He stepped over to where Moth-girl had lain and picked up the bloodstained white ribbon. Bringing it to his nose, he sniffed, then carefully folded it up and stowed it away into his pocket. He walked to reception and started to speak quietly with Hari. As I looked around to locate my discarded jeans and trainers I strained my ears, but couldn’t hear what they were saying. I bent to pick up my clothes.
‘Ms Taylor.’ Neil Banner’s voice at my shoulder made me straighten. He smiled hopefully at me, keeping his eyes fixed on my face. ‘I wanted to remind you of our earlier conversation and ask whether you know about the matter I mentioned?’
‘The delicate matter involving this supposed legacy,’ I said, folding the jeans over my arm and holding them in front of me. I’m not shy, but he suddenly seemed to be. ‘Before we go any further, I want my solicitor to see the will.’ Once I find one, I added, to myself. ‘Is that acceptable?’
‘Of course,’ he said, holding out a card. ‘My contact details. Just let me know when you’re ready. The sooner the better—tonight even—the head of the Order is keen to get this dealt with.’
Way too keen, I said to myself. I tilted my head, time for a bit of probing. ‘How does you being a necromancer fit in with all this religious stuff? Don’t most faiths consider you evil?’
‘Ah, I wondered if you would understand when I told you about my ability to see souls.’ He gave me a half-smile. ‘But it is not the gift that is given to us that matters, but what we do with it.’
‘Okay, I understand that.’ I wanted to ask him to talk to Cosette, but my bullshit antenna was now vibrating like a siren’s tuning fork.
‘Genevieve.’ Malik’s voice came in my mind. ‘It is time for us to go. I have other matters to deal with this night, as well as your problem with the police.’
I half turned, obeying his command—until I realised what I was doing. I shook my head and made myself stop. Damn annoying vampire, why couldn’t he just ask like a normal person? I clamped down on the compulsion to move as I thought about Banner’s request and what had bothered me earlier: why would the Earl leave the Fabergé egg to the Soulers?
‘The person who left you this legacy,’ I said to Banner. ‘Do you know why he did?’
Neil Banner smiled his zealot’s smile. ‘He wants us to pray for his soul.’
The Earl had never struck me as religious, but I hadn’t spent more than a couple of hours in his company before I killed him, so who was I to know?
‘Fair enough,’ I said, taking his card. ‘I’ll be in touch.’
I looked anxiously over at Bobby and the girl, now being separated by Grace and the security guard. ‘Are they both going to live?’
‘If God wills it they shall.’ He clasped his hands earnestly in front of his chest. ‘Both of their auras are brighter, more solid now. Thaddeus and I will continue to pray for them both’—his mouth lifted in a solemn smile—‘and offer them more secular help once they recover.’
‘Come, Genevieve.’ Malik’s voice sounded again in my head. ‘Leave the doctors to take care of their patients.’
I wanted to wait until I knew they were both okay. I also needed some answers: what had Moth-girl wanted to give me—and how had she known where to find me? And who had sent her and why? And I wanted to talk to Grace. But the insistent need to go with Malik pulled at me like an overstretched wire, and the stiff set of his shoulders under the black suit jacket and the tense line of his jaw told me his patience wasn’t endless. So with my pulse thudding for more than one reason, I followed the beautiful vampire away from HOPE.
Chapter Sixteen
AGold Goblin taxi waited outside, the sour smell of its methane-fuelled engine hanging like a pall in the damp night air. The Stick goblin jumped out and held the cab door open. His lime-green topknot looked like a hairy tarantula had taken up residence on his head. A gust of chill wind flattened his navy boilersuit against his body and his tall, lanky frame reminded me of the turban-headed dryads who’d chased me earlier. Not surprising really; the goblin queen had cross-cloned tree trolls with indentured sky-born goblins to get workers tall enough and with eyesight good enough to pass their driving tests.