The Noose Of A New Moon (Wolfbrand Book 1) Page 6

  He was glad that Scarlett chose not to comment on it; in fact, she even joined in his attempts to get the kid to speak. Her efforts were to no avail, but he was starting to sense that he could trust the vampire, as well as fancying the skin-tight pants off of her. He couldn’t blame the idiot bloke who’d licked her shoe for his physical response to her; he’d probably have reacted in the same way if she’d pushed him up against a car. He was almost disappointed when their journey ended and she pulled up outside his house.

  ‘So,’ Scarlett said. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. ‘So.’

  ‘So what?’

  ‘You strike me as a man of deed and action rather than thought. That’s not a criticism, by the way, but an observation. If I’m right, it will stand you in good stead. You can’t simply hide yourselves away. For one thing, the police are going to come asking questions about your car. For another, if you can find out what really happened at that house you’ll be in a better position to help the girl. You were right that she’s a victim. She didn’t turn herself into a werewolf – someone did that to her. The more you can find out what happened to her, the more sympathy you’ll drum up for her. I’m not saying it will save either of you in the long run but it’s a good start.’

  Devereau considered her words. ‘I’m not averse to a little investigation,’ he said. ‘It’s not as if I’ve much else to do at the moment.’ He met her eyes. ‘Will you help?’

  Scarlett’s mouth twitched. ‘A vampire help two werewolves?’

  ‘I’m sure stranger things have happened.’

  ‘Mmm. What’s in it for me?’

  ‘What would you like?’ he countered. ‘I’d offer to lick your boots but someone’s already done that.’

  She ran her tongue across her teeth. ‘You can owe me. A favour of my choosing to be performed at a time of my choosing.’

  ‘Very well.’

  Scarlett raised an eyebrow. ‘No caveats? You shouldn’t agree so quickly without negotiating first.’

  Devereau smiled slowly. ‘Perhaps I don’t want to negotiate. Perhaps I want to be in your debt.’

  ‘Careful, Mr Webb. Sometimes I bite.’

  He gazed at her. ‘Sometimes I bite too.’ He felt the girl’s eyes on him from the back seat and pulled back; there was a time and a place, and this definitely wasn’t it. ‘Let me get her settled. Can you meet me back here later? This evening?’

  She nodded. ‘I can do that.’

  He smiled and started to get out of the car. Scarlett called him back. ‘Devereau.’

  He half turned. ‘Yes?’

  ‘The full moon is almost here. You’ve never experienced one and I’m guessing that she hasn’t either. It’s not going to be easy for you, and the closer it gets the harder things will be. Your control will slip with each day and you’ll have more power and strength within you than any other werewolf I’ve met. You should avoid close contact with others. You don’t know what might happen otherwise.’

  He flashed her a grin. ‘You just want me all to yourself, don’t you?’

  She didn’t smile back. ‘I wish that were true.’

  Chapter Seven

  Wary of the curtain twitchers, Devereau hustled the kid inside as quickly as he could. She made no move to resist. Once the door was safely bolted, he felt the need to apologise. It was most unlike him.

  ‘I know it’s not much and it smells like someone’s died. And the furniture is probably riddled with fleas. And the electric wiring is probably…’ He didn’t get chance to finish his sentence. The girl walked away from him up the creaking staircase. He followed on her heels. ‘There’s a bathroom to the right. I’ve checked the plumbing and there is hot water.’

  Her expression didn’t flicker and he had no idea if she’d even registered his words. She didn’t glance towards the bathroom but turned in the opposite direction, into the nearest bedroom. There was a single bed with a bare mattress against the far wall and she made a beeline right for it. While he watched, she clambered on top of it, curled into a ball and closed her eyes.

  Devereau blinked and took a step forward. Her chest was already rising and falling with the regular rhythm of sleep. She must have been exhausted.

  He watched her for a moment or two then went back downstairs. He searched through the few boxes he’d brought with him until he found what he needed, returned and carefully tucked the duvet round her. She didn’t move.

  As soon as he was downstairs again, he got to work. He made a couple of phone calls before unpacking his things in a bid to make the drab house look a bit more homely and less threatening. Once that was done, he brewed some coffee and sat down with his laptop. Somebody somewhere had to be missing their daughter.

  There was nothing on the recent local news or the Metropolitan Police’s website, and nothing on any missing persons’ websites. He tapped the keyboard and frowned. The police might take up to seventy-two hours before searching for missing adults but children were a different matter. If somebody had reported the girl missing they would have sprung into action, but he couldn’t find a damned thing. He considered his options and then he made another call.

  ‘Good day,’ burbled an efficient robotic voice. ‘You have reached St Agnes School. To report an absence, press one. To make enquiries about admissions, press two. To…’

  Devereau rolled his eyes in exasperation. Fortunately, he already had the extension code he needed and he jabbed it in before he had to listen to any more of the monotonous droning. With any luck, Mrs Foster would be in her office.

  ‘Rachel Foster.’

  ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Foster. This is…’

  ‘Mr Webb.’ She sounded considerably more cautious than the last time they’d spoken. ‘I would recognise your voice anywhere. I was planning to contact you this week. We need to speak about the library.’

  Devereau’s eyes narrowed. ‘I was given to understand that it was on schedule to open before the half-term holiday in October.’

  ‘Yes, yes, it will be ready. We’re very proud of it and we’d be happy to give you a tour on a Saturday or Sunday so you can see where all your money has gone.’

  ‘I’d rather get a tour during the week when there are children using it.’

  ‘Mmm.’ She hesitated. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Some of our parents are a little concerned, and there are health and safety measures we have to consider. As you know from Alice’s time here, we take child protection very seriously.’

  ‘You mean,’ he said flatly, ‘you’re worried that if I come by when children are present, I won’t be able to stop myself from transforming into a wolf and eating them.’

  ‘Obviously, I know you won’t do that but there are others who—’

  He clenched his jaw. ‘Fine.’

  She rushed on. ‘Mr Webb, you know how grateful we are for the money you gave us to build the library. We won’t ever forget it. But our Board thinks it’s better if we no longer call it the Webb Wing. Something more generic will probably be more appropriate.’ The headteacher sounded nervous, and with good reason.

  He hadn’t given the money to the school because he wanted his damned name on a plaque; it had been Mrs Foster who’d suggested they call the new wing after him. That didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed off that she was backtracking now.

  ‘So you were happy to use my name when I was nothing more than an alleged criminal in charge of my own crime network,’ he said. ‘But now that I’m a werewolf, my name is no longer good enough?’

  ‘Uh, you see, the thing is—’

  ‘Forget it,’ he interrupted.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘I don’t care what the library is called. You happily took a great deal of my money to build it. Call it whatever the hell you like.’ His voice hardened. ‘But in return for my silence on your prejudice, there’s something I want.’

  ‘I’m not prejudiced against you, Mr Webb. Nobody at St Agnes is. Our first duty is to preserve the
safety of our children. Our parents put a great deal of faith in us to look after them. It would be remiss of us not to do everything we could to meet their expectations.’

  Devereau didn’t say anything.

  Mrs Foster sighed. ‘Fine. What do you want?’

  ‘You mentioned child protection,’ he said. ‘That’s what I’m interested in. I want to know if there are any schools in London that are dealing with the unexpected absence of a young girl about twelve years old. Caucasian, long brown hair, brown eyes.’

  ‘You want to know what?’

  ‘I’m sure you heard me the first time.’

  ‘Mr Webb, even if I were prepared to give you that kind of information, there are three thousand schools in London. We deal with unexpected absences all the time. There’s no way that—’

  ‘Try.’ He thought about the girl and the fact that nobody had reported her missing. ‘She’s probably already classed as vulnerable. I’m sure you have contacts and a network you can use.’

  ‘Three thousand schools, Mr Webb!’

  He gritted his teeth. ‘Focus on the Whitechapel ones.’ That was where he’d found her. It made sense that she’d be from that area.

  ‘That’s still a huge number of children—’

  Devereau was done talking. ‘I’ll expect to hear from you by the end of the day.’ He hung up. It was a long shot but worth the punt. Besides, Rachel Foster bloody well owed him.

  He heard a car pull up outside and went to the window. A moment later, Alice burst through the front door. ‘Oh my God!’ she exclaimed. ‘This is where you live now? It’s a dump! What’s that smell?’

  A low-pitched growl rumbled from deep in the centre of Devereau’s chest. ‘You shouldn’t be here. And why aren’t you in school?’

  ‘She had a check-up at the hospital,’ Natasha said, walking in behind Alice with a bag in her hand. ‘They called this morning and moved it forward from next week.’

  Devereau stiffened. ‘Is there a problem?’

  She shook her head. ‘It was just routine. She’s still clear of cancer. The doctor is baffled but happy.’

  They exchanged looks. Natasha knew exactly why Alice’s leukaemia had vanished but nobody else did; even Alice herself didn’t really understand what had happened. Detective Constable Emma Bellamy had given Devereau a gruesome potion that had cured the child. It had been a one-off and there would never be anything like it again. Given what he’d later learned the potion contained, that was a good thing.

  ‘Why do you want some of my clothes?’ Alice asked.

  ‘It’s a long story.’

  She tilted her head, her pigtails falling to one side. ‘Try me.’ She put her hands on her hips and gave him a demanding glare. Any other time he’d have found it comical.

  ‘Curiosity killed the cat, Alice.’

  ‘And satisfaction brought it back,’ she shot in return.

  He gave her a long look and glanced at Natasha. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I appreciate the help. But you shouldn’t come here again – and you definitely shouldn’t bring Alice. At least not for a while.’

  ‘You told me that werewolves aren’t dangerous, Dev. You said that I could trust you and any other wolf who happens along.’

  ‘And normally that would be true,’ he said. ‘But right now…’ He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence. The creaking stairs were already advertising Alice’s ascent upstairs to where the girl was sleeping. ‘Alice!’ he roared, running after her. ‘Get back here!’

  From somewhere above his head there was a loud snarl. Alice stopped dead in her tracks on the first landing. Devereau barrelled towards her and shoved her out of the way in the nick of time. A second later, a small grey-coloured wolf collided with him, jaws snapping.

  There was a crazed look in her eyes and he had no doubt that she was out for blood. As he held up his arms to hold her off, her sharp teeth scraped against skin. She didn’t stop. Her guttural growls and frenzied actions bore testament to her complete inability to control herself. Devereau shoved out a hand, unwilling to hurt her or to allow her to hurt him, but she was a ball of unstoppable fury. When her teeth couldn’t reach his exposed face, her head dipped and she went for his leg instead, her canines ripping through the denim of his jeans and sinking into his flesh. Devereau howled in surprise and pain.

  And then his wolf took over.

  His clothes burst off, scraps of material flying in all directions. His muscles bunched and twisted and his bones snapped. Suddenly he was on all fours, his hackles raised as he bared his teeth and snarled at the girl. She snarled back. He was four times her size, and in a real fight she wouldn’t have lasted a second, but she still wasn’t backing down. Her pupils were tiny black pinpricks of madness.

  He lifted one paw and swiped her muzzle in warning. He was master here, he was alpha wolf. Unfortunately, the girl wolf didn’t care. Her jaws snapped and he registered her body tensing as she prepared to throw herself at him again. Goddamnit, she didn’t know when to quit.

  Devereau pushed forward, trying to back her into a corner where he might have some chance of controlling her. He only managed a few steps before she launched herself at him again, her white teeth flashing.

  Thwack.

  There was a soft thud. For a moment she paused in mid-air, her eyes clouding with confusion, then she collapsed in a heap at his feet. He saw the dart sticking out of her hindquarters and turned. When he saw who was there, tranquiliser gun in hand, his shoulders sagged in relief.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,’ Devereau said to Dr Yara. ‘I understand.’ He wasn’t going to force her do anything that made her uncomfortable. After all, nobody else from his former Flock had wanted to hang around.

  The doctor fixed him with an irritated glare. ‘I stay. I see worse things than furry children with big teeth in Syria. I am not frightened. You help me when I come to this country, Mr Webb. Now I help you.’

  He knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. ‘Thank you,’ he said quietly. ‘And I’ve told you before, call me Devereau.’

  ‘Pffft.’ She clicked her tongue loudly as if such an idea were completely preposterous.

  ‘Well, I’m certainly not staying,’ Natasha said loudly from beside the door. Alice had already been bundled into the car. His niece had protested all the way, but he was aware how close she’d come to being ripped apart. And from the way she’d been shaking despite her best efforts to hide it, so was she.

  ‘I’m sorry about what happened.’

  His sister looked at him. ‘Me too.’ She shook her head. ‘First getting yourself turned into a wolf and now this. I hope you know what you’re doing, Dev.’

  He used to; he wasn’t quite so sure now. ‘I would never hurt Alice, Tash.’

  She managed a smile. ‘I know. You’ve been more of a father to her than her own dad. She’s alive today because of you. But I have to put her first. We can’t come here again.’

  He nodded. ‘Good. I’ll stay in touch and when things are normal again…’

  Natasha held up her hands. ‘No, don’t make promises you can’t keep.’ She leaned across and pecked him on the cheek. ‘And don’t get yourself killed, either.’

  ‘Don’t worry about me.’

  ‘I always worry about you.’ She smiled again, this time with a trace of self-mockery, and left.

  Devereau glanced at Dr Yara. ‘Make yourself at home.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Despite her willingness to help, she was clearly unimpressed at her surroundings. He didn’t blame her.

  ‘Will she be out for long?’ he asked, jerking his chin towards the girl.

  ‘A few hours maybe.’ She offered him a shrug. ‘No more than four. It was not strong sedative.’

  He nodded. ‘Okay. Would you mind if I left you here and went out for a while? There are a couple of things I need to check out. I’ll make sure I’m back before she wakes.’

  ‘Is no problem, Mr Webb.’


  ‘Devereau.’

  Dr Yara’s gaze didn’t flicker. ‘Is no problem, Mr Webb.’

  He gave in. ‘Thank you.’

  Dr Yara inclined her head. ‘See you later.’

  ***

  With his car trapped in Whitechapel – assuming the police hadn’t already towed it away to examine it for evidence that didn’t exist – Devereau walked to Supe Squad. Located between the werewolf Clans in Lisson Grove and the vampires in Soho, it wasn’t far and it gave him time to work through his thoughts. This certainly wasn’t the day he’d been anticipating when he’d woken up this morning, but he was nothing if not adaptable.

  He was briefly tempted to go the long way round and avoid bumping into other supes; it would cause fewer problems if he kept his head down. But if the clan alphas knew that he’d moved in nearby, so did every other supe with half a brain cell. And he was curious to see how those who weren’t in power reacted to his presence. He knew what the three alphas thought of him but what about the rest?

  Whistling tunelessly, he headed north until the elaborate wooden archway that signalled the entrance to Lisson Grove appeared. A group of women of various ages was standing on the corner in front of it. They appeared to be absorbed in their conversation but, as Devereau approached, they fell silent and stared at him goggle-eyed. He tipped an imaginary hat in their direction and grinned. His efforts were rewarded when he heard a muffled whisper as he passed them, ‘Well, he’s a lot sexier than I thought he’d be.’

  Rather than pretend he hadn’t heard them, he tossed his head ostentatiously and glanced back coyly over his shoulder. They all burst out laughing, although the one who’d made the comment turned bright red. Devereau smiled. He wasn’t above making a fool of himself if it helped him win a few hearts and minds.

  He continued on his way and passed beneath the archway. It was probably his imagination but it felt as if the air shifted once he emerged into the official werewolf quarter. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation – quite the opposite, in fact. Some of the knotted tension that had been stoutly refusing to leave his body melted away. He inhaled deeply. Man, that was good.