Chapter 14

14

ROMAN

" A nswer me!" the silhouette of the man at the top of the stairs hissed.

At least he could see me.

I held up my hands. "I'm not here for trouble. Just want to shelter for a bit."

"You're trespassing."

"Huh?"

"Don't huh me, fuckface."

Any bets for this prick not having his name on the tenancy agreement?

Rather than snipe, I stayed civil. "Okay. I'll go next door."

"You do that."

I kept my hands up, side-stepping toward the room on my right.

"What are you doing?"

"Going next door."

"No. Go back the way you came." He huffed. "Hang on… What the…" I almost heard the cogs of his mind whirring. "How did you actually get in here?"

"You didn't see?" I asked.

"No. I heard you breathing."

"Good hearing."

"My ex called me a bat with my super ears." He sighed. "And now he's a rat."

I flinched as I thought of my bestie. "A rat?" My grief jabbed at my insides with icy shards.

"Scored an own goal with magic. I tried helping him, but he wouldn't have it. Don't blame him, really." A second sigh followed. "I seriously screwed up."

This couldn't be right. What were the chances of stumbling upon someone who knew my bestie? An ex-boyfriend at that. Darcy never mentioned an ex to me. He lamented his past a lot, discussed the things he missed. But he always gave the impression that he slept around, a free spirit jumping in and out of the beds of various men and women.

I guess he didn't want to share this part of his past with me.

"You're Darcy Carey's ex?" I asked for confirmation.

"Yep. You know him?"

"He lives with me."

Did. Before I ? —

"He does?" The guy came down a couple of steps. "He's okay?"

No. "Yeah." I swallowed, the sensation like liquid barbed wire.

"Where is he?"

"I…" God, should I just shut the fuck up or tell him the truth?

The former. For now.

"You don't have to tell me," the man said. "I'm just glad he found somewhere to live that ain't the gutter. You don't live in a gutter, do you?"

"No. A nice flat in London."

Once upon a time…

"What are you doing in Luton?"

That answered the geographical question. Luton was north of London, not too far away by train or car.

"It's a long story."

He came down the stairs, clicking on a battery-powered lantern to cast some light on the situation.

A skinny guy with light copper skin and scraggly brown hair stood before me. He was a warlock—the glowing white symbol of an incomplete circle with a tiny star at the center on his forehead.

"I'm Jaz," he said, holding out a hand wrapped in a fingerless glove.

His clothes were grimy and tatty, layered on to fight the cold.

Forgetting my current status, I went to take his hand, my palm passing through his.

"Shit. Sorry. I forgot."

Jaz didn't run for the hills. Instead, he took me in with his blue eyes. "Ghost, eh?"

"Kind of."

"What's with that?" He gestured to the misfortune in my chest.

"Again, it's a long story."

He didn't press me on it. "You can stay here, even if you are a witch." He nodded at the symbol on my forehead—a red triangle with a star at the center.

My kind weren't exactly decent to his, many witches treating warlocks as if they were second class citizens. A vile practice in need of quashing.

I guess the end of magic evened the score now.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Been bored out of mind, so yes. Any friend of Darcy's is cool with me. Unless you try fucking me over. Ghost or not, I'll make you regret it."

"No fucking. Erm, I mean…" Shit.

He laughed. "I can live with that. Follow me. There's some beds upstairs. Can you use a bed?"

"I'll give it a go." My shoes were interacting with the bare floorboards, so fingers crossed.

The answer to the bed question was a yes. Kind of. I sat on the mattress, but unable to interreact with the blanket or the flat pillow or even the towel Jaz offered me.

So weird.

"Sorry, mate," he said.

I shrugged. "It's the least of my problems."

The bigger of two bedrooms had two single mattress and a couple of black bags filled with canned goods and bottles of water. Nothing much else aside from a few more battery lanterns.

I couldn't touch anything, which upset my stomach over the food.

It really wanted some grub.

Jaz kept his distance, moving the other mattress close to the door in case he needed to bolt—in his words.

"I'll be gone in a few hours," I said. "Just need a power nap."

"Get a full night if you like." He picked at his dirty nails. "It's cool."

No full night. Even taking a rest like this wasted precious time. I just needed a quick recharge and then I'd find Queen Piper.

The only flaw in my plan was her location. With everything going on in London, she might be out of the city in some secret location. I remembered her number from when we used to communicate about my jobs, when she played intermediary between me and her mother. If I could find a phone, I'd give it a shot. Well, I'd have to ask someone to make the call for me.

Man, this was getting complicated.

And how to get the time jar from Butterfly… Hmmm. We'd need some serious muscle and firepower against Ismael's gathering army.

"Is there a phone here?" I asked.

Jaz shook his head. "I ain't got a mobile phone either. But there is a corner shop close by with a phone box. But I've got no cash for it."

Did a reverse charge still exist like when I was a kid?

"Thanks," I said.

I could ask Jaz to call the new queen for me.

"No worries. You calling Darcy?" he wondered.

I shook my head, suppressing the painful reminder of killing my best friend. It stung every part of me like a group of furious wasps over and over again.

"Sorry. Shouldn't be asking questions about him."

"It's fine. When was the last time you saw him?"

It took him a while to answer. "The day after he became a rat. He asked me to help him, but my magic is bullshit. It can't do anything like reverse a spell. It just slows things."

"What do you mean?"

"If I'm fully charged with Trace, I can focus on something to make it slow down. Lasts for a good while, too."

Warlocks drew on Trace magic each month when it fell from the sky. They had no access to the witch-made Synth.

"Sounds useful," I said. What a shame he couldn't use it on the demon monarchs and Butterfly right now. That would help get the job done.

Jaz didn't make eye contact, busying himself with his fingernails again. "I miss it."

"How long were you with Darcy?" I asked, pining for my Synth magic.

After a minute or so, he relaxed. "Two years. Twenty of those months amazing, four of them horrible."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said. "What happened?"

Jaz blew out a long breath, hard enough to make his lips tremble "I'm a cardiovascular surgeon. One of the best in the country, right at the top of my game. The warlock boy who came from nothing made it big in the world of medicine. Only, I let my success go to my head. Thought I was a God. Lost my license in a malpractice suit, along with everything else." He shook his head. "A stupid mistake I'll never shake off. I met Darcy when I hit my lowest point, fell in love hard. Fuck. He really is the love of my life. Was ." Jaz got up and grabbed a bottle of water, gulping down half of it before offering it to me. "Want to try taking it again?"

"Maybe later." I might be parched, but I wanted to hear more of this story. It helped hold back the constant probing of my grief.

Jaz remained standing. "Anyway, we met in a pub. He made the first move, asking me about my day out of the blue. Didn't give a crap about me being a warlock. The rest is history. We fell for each other quicky. I moved into his flat, and we lived in bliss. I got a job at a pharmacy, and we even managed to put a deposit down on this house." He sighed. "Until he asked me to marry him." He finished the rest of the water.

"He proposed?"

"I freaked out. Went on a bender, didn't think I was worthy of his love. Ended up sleeping with some guy… Why am I telling you this?"

I wanted to backhand him for cheating on my bestie. "You don't have to keep going."

"Surprised you didn't know any of this."

"Probably hurt him too much to talk about."

By the look on his face, I think I landed that smack.

"He left me, of course. When he messed up that spell, I tried to help him, to win him back. As I said, my magic's useless. He disappeared after that, his flat ended up being condemned. We lost the deposit on this house, and it ended up not being sold."

And then Darcy crossed paths with me and started a new life, leaving all that shit behind. I didn't throw that into the ring for the sake of peace. Yeah, this guy offered me shelter, but he'd also hurt my friend. The less I knew, the better. Anyway, I'd have liked to hear it from Darcy one day over a cup of tea. Not like this.

Okay, back to my recharge.

The roar of an engine sounded outside, followed by screeching tires. I got to my feet, a jolt of fear making my scalp prickle.

Recharge over, I guess.

"Jaz Stephens!" a man's voice boomed.

Did I just hear the sound of a gun cocking?

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Jaz panicked, flapping his hands. "I've got to run."

"What's going on?" I asked.

"I know you're in there!" the man outside yelled. "Stop being a pussy and show yourself!"

Definitely not Jaz's best buddy.

The warlock grabbed a bag and darted for the door, pausing on the landing. "If you know what's good for you, get the hell out of here."

"Who is he?"

Jaz ran into the other room.

Ugh. Fuck this!

I followed him into the smaller bedroom. Whoever the shouty prick was, he began pounding the front door.

Jaz opened the metal board over the bedroom window enough for him to slip through.

"Jaz!" the man boomed. "Get the fuck out here!"

The warlock vanished through the crack, audibly climbing down a drainpipe.

Rather than experiment with walking through the metal board to see if I floated or plunged to the ground, I hurried down the stairs. The man on the other side of the front door grunted, keeping up his pounding.

That was one secure door.

"Go around the back!" the dickhead yelled to someone else.

What joy. More than one arsehole looking for violence.

I ran through the empty living room, passing through a closed door into a kitchen and kept going, reaching the back garden just as Jaz jumped off the drainpipe.

"What are you doing here? Get?—"

The back gate to my right crashed open, revealing a woman with a shotgun.

And she fired.