Wild Game (Codex Blair Book 4) Page 13

  I think it pissed her off more than anything, but I didn't pretend to know what she was thinking.

  She looked up at me, eyes squinting. Lillai would have looked motherly, she had a curvy figured and thick dark curls and beautiful olive skin, if she didn't look so damned angry all the time. Then again, I guess mothers could be angry. She was just a really angry mother bear. Yeah, I could see that.

  "What can I do for you?"

  My jaw dropped open, though I quickly shut it. Lillai had never once greeted me with anything other than an order to get lost as quickly as possible.

  "Oh man, what day is it? I have to write this down," I said with a grin that went from ear to ear. "I did it, didn't I? I proved myself. Yes!" I pumped an arm into the air, just barely holding myself back from dancing around the shop.

  She lifted an eyebrow. "Careful, I might just rescind that. You haven't proved yourself, you're just on probation."

  "I'll take that," I said, her words doing nothing to dull the smile on my face. I had finally managed to break down Lillai's walls just a little bit, and that was awesome. She and Aidan had worked so well together, I had never understood her animosity towards me—which had been there from day one, when Aidan had brought me into her shop—but if I was finally getting somewhere...I wasn't going to question it.

  This also meant that the community probably didn't hate me for the fight at the compound, and the more I thought about it, the more sense that made. Lillai had laid the entire plan out for them and recommended that they follow it, so they hadn't gone into the situation blind. They had known that the succubus was going to come, and that there was probably going to be a fight, though we had all been hoping for a straight forward trap. The fact that it had ended up with some of them under Lilith's spell and having to fight each other...that was what I had been worried about. But it seemed that overall, no one was holding grudges. That was great, I could live with that.

  "What do you need, Blair?" she said, sighing, and standing up a little straighter.

  "Well, so..."—I looked around, making sure no one else was in the shop. I knew that most of her customers would be other members of the community, but I didn't want to raise the alarm if I could help it—"there have been some attacks. I checked it out, and it looks like it was a giant wolf that did it. I don't know what it could be, I was hoping you might...know something." I felt a little bad, not mentioning that I knew there was a werewolf in London and that I had already checked that out. But Geoff had made me promise that I wouldn't reveal his secret, and I took that very seriously. I didn't make a promise and break it, not if there was anything I could do about it.

  She set her lips in a firm line, tapping one finger on the polished wood of her counter. "Come, let's go in the back room. This isn't a conversation that should be overheard."

  Oh good, she agreed with me on that. I had been a little anxious that me looking around to make sure no one was listening was going to offend her. I didn't want to imply that there were people in the community that couldn't be trusted, but it looked like she was on my side this time.

  I really needed to not put my foot in my mouth and piss her off again. Lillai's support was instrumental to getting things done in the community, they all trusted her with their very lives, she could make or break a person, and I needed her to trust me. That was the goal, no matter how farfetched it might be.

  It wasn't the first time I'd gone into the back room with Lillai. She had brought me back here the last time I'd come for a visit, but it felt very different now that I was invited and not being told to get out as soon as possible. She gestured to a chair and I took a seat, secretly thrilling at every little thing she did that made me feel more and more a part of things. She shut the door once I took my seat, and then sat across from me.

  "What kind of attacks?" She got right down to it, not wasting a minute.

  "Like I said, it was a wolf. The site I looked at, it was a campground, and the victims...were torn to pieces," I said, letting out a shuddering breath. "It was terrible, Lillai. I've never seen anything so gruesome. I need to find out what it is, who it is, I don't know, and put a stop to it before someone else gets hurt."

  "There are no werewolves in London..." she said, lifting her hand to her mouth as she thought, her brow furrowed.

  I didn't contradict her, though I knew she was wrong about that. I was a little surprised that she didn't already know about Geoff, but if he hadn't told her than I was glad I hadn't spilled the beans. She wouldn't trust me that he hadn't been the one to do it, and I couldn't blame her. To tell the truth, I was still a little unsure about that. I had been a little too eager for him to deny that he'd done it, and the alibi he'd provided hadn't been the best one. I hadn't even checked it out to make sure it was right, but at the same time...there was no way his employees would rat him out. They were all too loyal.

  "What else do you think it could be?" I said, shifting in my seat a bit. "Are there any shifters?"

  Her eyes snapped up to meet mine, and they had turned rather cold. I froze in my seat, raising my eyebrows. I had offended her somehow.

  "No one in the community did this," she said, a warning note in her voice.

  "Hey, whoa, I didn't say someone had," I said, though while that was true that I hadn't said as much...I would be a liar if I tried to say that I hadn't been thinking it. If Geoff had to be a suspect, then so could anyone in the community.

  Her reaction all but confirmed that there were shifters, and that they were members of the community. That was good and bad news; because if it was one of them that was doing it, Lillai wasn't going to forgive me unless I had incontrovertible proof that it was them. I didn't want to get on her bad side, but at the same time, my duty was keeping the city safe. I had to put that first.

  "There are shifters outside the community," she said, regaining some of her composure. "We do not associate with them."

  "Why?" I spoke before I could think about it. It was impertinent, questioning her like that, and the look on her face told me that she didn't appreciate it. "Sorry."

  She took in and let out a loud breath and didn't speak for a moment. It was an awkward sort of silence that stretched out between us then. I didn't know what I was supposed to do. Was I dismissed?

  "As I said, there are shifters outside of the community. They are...not the best crowd, and I wouldn't direct you to them if you weren't asking for this kind of information. They have behaved badly in the past, and they're rather crude." Sounds like what a lot of puffed up people say about those they perceive to be lesser. Hey, Lillai had her bad opinions about me, well I had some bad opinions of her. "They live in Peckham."

  Eek. Peckham, that was a bad place to be going. I don't think I'd ever been there before, it was kind of...well, yeah, no, it was just about everything Lillai had said and more. But I was sure that the people in Peckham were just down on their luck folks, it wasn't their fault that they lived in a place that was the frequent recipient of violence. It was unfair to blame them for that, and I was sure that she had misjudged the shifters that she was speaking of.

  "Is it a community of shifters, or just...I don't know, a fringe group?"

  She sighed. "I don't know too much about it, Blair. I think it might be a full-fledged community, they would have to stick together to keep themselves alive and outside the notice of the mundane world, but they are not my responsibility. I don't want anything to do with them. They're riff raff."

  I arched an eyebrow. "Wouldn't you have said the same thing about me?"

  Her eyes gleamed. "Maybe that's why you'll make it out of there alive."

  21

  Peckham isn't the kind of place you drive through if you want to find your answers, but it's also not the kind of place you walk through unprotected. So, I took my car home and grabbed a bus down to Peckham, doing my best not to look too nervous. I didn't need anyone finding out about the gun tucked into the back of my jeans.

  No bloody way was I going into a place like that wi
thout having something to get my arse back out if the shit hit the fan.

  But my magical weapons? Stakes had replaced my wands in their holsters, and the wands had been tucked into my boots. The wind chain was firmly gripped in hand, and each shield ring was fully charged. Anyone in the know would take one look at me and know better than to mess with me, and that was intentional. I didn't want to blend in where that was concerned, I wanted to draw someone out so that I could find out the information I needed.

  The atmosphere changed the moment I set foot in the neighborhood, tension was in the air. People sat on the stairs that led to their flats, some children played in the streets. Aside from the beat up cars and graffiti, it didn't look too different on the outside from other neighborhoods. But look closer and you would see the danger in those people, the way they'd been hardened by the lives they had lived.

  One of them turned and looked at me, watched me as I walked down the sidewalk. I made eye contact with him—that may have been stupid, don't copy me—refusing to break it. I saw something in his eyes that told me I was in the right place.

  I am not afraid.

  I held that thought at the forefront of my mind and forced myself to walk with a confidence that I did not truly fear. Body language is half the battle in situations like this, and I could feel in my gut that I was going to be up for a fight in a minute or two here.

  "You don't belong here," the man said as I neared him.

  I lifted my chin. "Says who?"

  He stood up and walked over to stand in front of me, leaning close and sniffing. A slow smirk curled across his lips as he dragged his eyes over me. "Says me."

  I stared daggers into his head until he brought his eyes back up to meet mine. "Think again. I go where I want."

  He looked over his shoulder and whistled. "Go get Chase," he said to the boy who had turned to look at him. The child ran inside one of the houses.

  I squared my shoulders. Please, do not let this be the wrong fight.

  "Mages have no business here."

  Bingo! Right fight! Woohoo!

  "I am no ordinary mage," I said. Ugh, cocky much? You sound like you have a stick up your arse.

  "Yeah, that's what they’re all thinking, but we know better down here. You"—he stopped to flick my blonde ponytail—"got no business here."

  I took a step forward, invading his space. "Do not touch me, boy," I said, my voice low, dangerous; the promise of death was in my eyes.

  The step backwards that he took did not look voluntary, not by the flush that crept up his neck.

  "Well, what do we have here?" A Scottish brogue cut through the silence.

  Both me and the man in front of me jerked our attention to the man exiting a house to my right.

  Cliché though it may be, he took my breath away. The man was a damned Adonis—how was London harboring all these good-looking men? Mal, I could understand, he was Fallen. But Geoff and now this guy? At least there were rats like the man in front of me to remind me that the species wasn't perfect.

  The man who had just spoken—Chase was what the rat had called him, I believed—had broad features, was probably half a foot taller than me, and had the kind of muscles that didn't come from a gym. He had shaggy blonde hair that came down to mid-neck, and his blue eyes were deep set. His gait was lazy, almost feline in nature, he was taking his sweet time getting over here.

  "We don't get many visitors anymore, not since Tyburn."

  I had looked away from him, feigning disinterest, but my attention snapped back to him as soon as he said Tyburn.

  "What do you know about Tyburn?" My voice was a sharp whip that cracked through the air, my jaw clenched so tightly I could feel the muscle pulsing there, and my hands had balled into fists.

  He whistled. "Touchy, I see. You lose someone there?"

  "None of your business."

  "See, I think you coming into my territory makes just about anything my business."

  "Your territory?" I snorted, willing my muscles to relax. "Bloody hell, could you get more medieval?"

  He finally reached me, cocking his head to the side as he looked me over. "I could."

  I arched an eyebrow. "You won't."

  "And who's saying that?"

  "Me," I said, smiling at him. "As you may have noticed, I'm the one speaking. You might want to get your ears checked if you're not following that very well."

  He laughed, a deep sound that seemed to resonate from his belly. "I like you, you've got fire. Most of the mages who come around here don't have that. Meek. Afraid of being on this side of town."

  "Look me in the eye, Chase," I said, lifting a brow when I said his name so that he knew I'd picked it up. "Tell me I haven't been a part of this world before."

  His eyes narrowed and locked onto mine, studying me for several silent minutes, before he slowly nodded. "You've seen some shit."

  "I have."

  Don't give too much away. I cautioned myself. Just because I needed them to respect me didn't mean that they needed to know everything I could do.

  "What are you?"

  "Now, that's a rude question," he said, slipping back into his easy grin. "Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?"

  I don't know my mother, you tool. But I didn't say that, because he didn't need to know that I didn't have a mum, it wasn't any of his business. And it didn't hurt, because I was long since over the damage of being abandoned as a child. I didn't remember any of it, I just had the chip of being a foster kid on my shoulder.

  "Afraid to answer?"

  He lifted his chin, narrowing his eyes again. "I'm not afraid of anything."

  "Then tell me," I said, laughing. "And maybe I'll believe you."

  I had a hunch that they were the shifters I was looking for, but I needed confirmation of that before I could make any more decisions.

  "Come inside," he said, surprising me. "And we'll talk about it."

  "But, boss—" I'd almost forgotten about the rat, but he spoke up now that an invitation had been offered.

  "I don't want to hear it, Ricky. Well?" He directed the question at me, the ball in my court.

  Gods, it was a difficult decision to make. Go inside a stranger's house, get jumped, and leave London to die, or find out all the information I needed? It was possible this was the killer I was looking for, but an enclosed fight in a house would be more to my advantage than to his as a shifter.

  "Is that an invitation?" I grinned. We both knew what I meant.

  "It is," he said, matching my smile.

  "Then I accept."

  22

  His flat wasn't anything to be impressed by, but the way people moved out of his way certainly was. I was a little surprised that he didn't have to repeat the invitation for me to cross the threshold, but I felt my power accompany across without issue. That had been a risky move on his part, he didn't know that I meant him no harm—and I wasn't sure that I didn't—so he could have been asking for a hell of a lot of trouble by inviting me in.

  The flat didn't look too different from the ones I had previously lived in. The entrance opened up into a small living room with a ratty couch, cheap coffee table, and a small TV. The paint was peeling off the walls, and the hardwood floors had seen better days. He walked into the kitchen, my eyes following to the peeling linoleum there. This was all to say that he was living in relative squalor, and yet...a wave of homesickness washed over me. Because this was what my life used to be, and as hectic as it had been, a part of me longed for that world again. A world where all I had to worry about was whether or not I was going to make rent that month. Not whether or not London was going to see tomorrow.

  "Do you want something to drink?"

  I blinked, temporarily overcome with shock, and when I went to speak all that came out was a rough cough.

  "You sound like you need a drink."

  "Don't you...do you even...guest rites." Ah, that had to be the most eloquent sentence I had ever put together in my life.

  He leaned
back so that his head was visible through the kitchen doorway. "Yes, I know about guest rites. Do you want something to drink?"

  I stared at him as if he had grown a second head, which honestly might have been more normal to me than this stranger offering me safety inside of his house. I had been expecting a fight, I hadn't been expecting old world manners.

  He sighed. "I can see you're having some trouble wrapping your head around the idea that I didn't invite you in here to eat you for dinner. Although..." His words trailed off as his eyes flicked over me again. "No, best not, I think."

  I flushed, now feeling out of my element. "Why are you invoking guest rites?"

  "Because that is the way things are done," he said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. "I don't know how you were taught, but this is how we handle visitors in my neck of the woods."

  "That's not the impression I was getting out there," I said, gesturing to his front door.

  "Ah, Ricky, he's not too fond of mages. Had some prissy bitch tell him he wasn't fit to clean her boots the other day, so he's taking it out on every mage he runs into now."

  I was still having some difficulty getting my head around what was happening. Not the deal with Ricky, that made sense on every level of male intelligence, but rather this whole...stranger danger business. I wouldn't have offered him food or drink, and I wouldn't have invited him into my house.

  "You aren't worried I'll attack you?"

  "Hey, guest rites are for my security as much as they are for yours," he said, smirking. "But no, I'm not. Because as Lara Croft as you look right now, I don't think you came here spoiling for a fight. You'd have clocked Ricky in the face as soon as he looked at you funny if you really wanted that. I don't know what you're after, but I'm eager to find out. I'm curious."

  "Curiosity killed the cat," I said, though I kept my voice low, more for myself than for him.

  "Satisfaction brought it back," he said with a wink. "Now, do you want something or not? Glass of water, at least?"

  "What do you have that's sealed?"