Dark Tomorrow (Bo Blackman Book 6) Read online

  There’s little new information in the files although it’s helpful to see what bases have already been covered. The family friend who Alice was visiting was questioned at length. Even at seven years old, there’s a sense of tired exasperation in her words, as if she’d been interviewed so many times that she was repeating what had happened with little emotion. No, Alice had never expressed any interest in vampires, witches, or daemons. Yes, she was her normal self on the day she vanished. No, they hadn’t seen anyone strange lurking around the neighbourhood.

  Bruckheimer and Berryhill didn’t just dispatch investigators to speak to those directly involved with Alice. They also sent at least two agents to speak to everyone in the neighbourhood, coaxing out details to suggest that there had been a vampire sighting in the area. The questions they asked were deliberately vague in order to incite equally vague answers. They didn’t want any flat denials. The mere suggestion that a bloodguzzler was hanging around the quiet suburb would cast enough doubt to get the insurance company out of paying. Unfortunately, several locals played along.

  I take more time as I read their answers: one suggests that there was a dark-haired man with blood running from his mouth who transformed into a bat and flew away. Yeah, right. Another discusses a strange car that was seen in the area. Sadly for Bruckheimer and Berryhill, the police discounted that one fairly quickly as the car was caught on CCTV at the local petrol station and belonged to an estate agent scoping the area. I jot down notes from each of the statements. There’s no telling what could prove useful in the future. Even the crazy old man who is adamant that bug-eyed aliens took Alice off the street in front of his eyes gets a mention on my notepad.

  Unfortunately, eyewitnesses are notoriously unreliable – UFO sightings or otherwise. Ask ten people who witnessed the same event to describe what they saw and you’ll get ten different answers. The company concluded that the locals could ‘provide clues’ as to reasons for Alice’s disappearance that could help them avoid payment but, even with the varied stories, they couldn’t make any of them stick. Vampires might have been the easy target to blame, but there was no evidence to prove it.

  I smile humourlessly. No doubt Berryhill and his buddy would have tried to bury the information from Rogu3’s hacking efforts if I hadn’t inadvertently let it slip to the local press. The simple truth was that the Families weren’t involved and everyone knew it. Even Medici wasn’t that much of an idiot.

  I sigh and close the file, staring out of the window with my chin in my hands. Hundreds of people looked into Alice’s disappearance. Every scrap of evidence was pored over; if there was anything to find, it would have already turned up. The only person who can shed any new light on all this is Maria. Maybe she knows where Alice’s remains are buried so we can provide closure for the Goldmans. But if Alice ended up in the same place as Maria, I doubt there’s any information that will make her family feel better. I suppress the shudder that ripples through my body. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt, it’s that I can’t change the past. All I can do is affect the future.

  There’s still no sign of life from X’s building. Despite Foxworthy’s efforts, this address might not be current. I calculate how long I can wait before I break in and snoop around. The place looks unthreatening but it’s probably almost impregnable. I’m confident there will be a chink somewhere, though – there always is.

  As far as I can tell, there’s only one entrance. I’ll be surprised if there’s a back door, although it probably merits checking out. My eyes flick from window to window, searching for vulnerabilities. I’d hesitate to scamper up the side of the building itself – there’s no telling what alarms that might trigger – but I could probably make the leap from the office block to the left. Maybe it’d be worth getting Rogu3 to leave off Hale for a couple of hours to see if he can seek out any building plans.

  I massage my neck. Tempting as it is to storm through the front door and let the chips fall where they may, I’m only going to beat X if I’m smarter than him. Most people would say I’ve not got a snowball’s chance in hell, but I’m very, very motivated. I’ll find a way to get to him even if it kills me.

  I continue to watch the street, losing myself in an elaborate fantasy of X at my feet begging for mercy before I blow off his head. I’m just getting to the good part when there’s a cough behind me. ‘What do you want, Berryhill?’ I ask, irritated. I turn and look at him. He’s loosened his tie but his eyes are harder than before. He’s had enough time to stew and he’s starting to regret our little ‘deal’. Tough.

  ‘There’s a phone call for you.’ He points to a phone on his desk. ‘I’ve had it diverted to this line.’

  My eyes narrow in suspicion. No one knew I was coming here because, until I saw their listing downstairs, I didn’t know Bruckheimer and Berryhill were located in this building. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘How the fuck should I know?’ he snaps.

  I point at him. ‘Don’t move.’ I receive a glare in response but he does as he’s told. I pick up the receiver. ‘Hello?’

  ‘This is Joe at reception,’ O’Shea’s voice trills out. ‘You should come down.’

  My blood freezes. ‘Why? What’s wrong?’

  ‘There’s a package for you to collect. You need to sign for it.’

  It takes me a moment to understand. ‘You can’t talk freely.’

  ‘That’s correct,’ he answers breezily.

  I lick my lips, ignoring the suddenly calculating look in Berryhill’s eyes. ‘Are you in immediate danger?’

  ‘No,’ O’Shea squeaks. Then he hangs up.

  I swallow. This is most definitely not good. Berryhill snorts at my expression. ‘Oh dear. Trouble in paradise?’

  I don’t have time for more verbal sparring. I toss down the phone and stride towards him. I’m less than a foot away when he realises the danger he’s in. ‘Hey!’ he protests. ‘You promised…’

  I grab his arm and swing him towards me. After David, I’m not really hungry but this is about more than satiating my physical hunger. I hook one arm round Berryhill’s chest and drag him back to the lift; at the same time I sink my teeth into his neck. He tries to struggle but it’s futile. His blood fills my mouth, while his employees stare in shock. A few stand up as if they’re going to try to rescue him from my evil clutches but, as soon as I glance in their direction, they think better of it. With Berryhill moaning underneath me, I press the button for the lift and march over to my photo.

  I release my teeth from his neck and use my index finger to dip into the fresh wound, then I smear Berryhill’s blood onto my picture, colouring my lips bright red. The effect is rather impressive. I push him back against the wall so his head is propped next to the picture, pull out my phone and snap a photo.

  ‘Sorry,’ I shrug. ‘I know there’s not much finesse but I need to get downstairs. This should do the trick, though. I did promise.’ With one tap, I send the photo off to the first journalist I find in my contacts.

  I hear a murmured whisper as one of Berryhill’s braver employees calls 999. I nod grimly. That’ll help.

  Just as the lift opens, I let Berryhill sink down into a heap. He’s not dead. Although perhaps he had it coming.

  ***

  O’Shea is waiting beside the lift door as I emerge. When he catches sight of me, he hisses in alarm, ‘You’re covered in blood!’

  I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. ‘Occupational hazard.’

  ‘Goddamnit, Bo. I know I insisted on coming along but the one thing you said was that we were going to be low profile. I don’t actually want to die today.’

  He jerks his head across the lobby and my eyes follow the movement. The zombies from earlier have been replaced by some new ones but I still don’t see any imminent danger. I open my mouth to say so just as O’Shea elbows me sharply in the ribs. ‘Look harder.’

  I frown and squint. Generic businessman in a generic cheap suit. Another one next to him, tapping his foot. A slick woman with hair so pe
rfect it looks sprayed on is gesturing at reception with fluid movements. There’s something about the way she flicks her wrist that’s incredibly familiar. I suck in a breath. Oh bugger.

  ‘You see it, right?’

  ‘I see it,’ I reply grimly. There’s only one other person I know who moves in that kind of precise, almost lyrical manner. And he’s a Kakos daemon. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  There’s a groan from behind reception. David, still looking pale, staggers up. The woman quirks her manicured eyebrow in his direction. She doesn’t look worried – she looks amused.

  ‘Now,’ I whisper urgently. ‘There has to be a back door.’ I grab O’Shea’s arm and start walking quickly. I feel a strange pressure behind my eyes and I pinch the bridge of my nose. This is not the time to start getting a bloody migraine.

  David smiles weakly at me as we rush past him. ‘Sorry,’ I mouth. He gives me a half shrug.

  I pick up speed but I’m waiting for the woman to yell out or to feel sudden pain as she springs towards us and rips my heart from my chest. We continue on unimpeded, however, and O’Shea flings open the nearest door. I shove him through before quickly following.

  The second the door slams behind us we sprint down the narrow corridor towards the emergency exit at the other end. Nausea swells up through my stomach. Why did I think I could do this? Why did I think I could take on X?

  ‘How did you know?’ I gasp to O’Shea. ‘She’s in full glamour.’

  ‘I’m an Agathos daemon. Partly, anyway. And I’ve been known to use a bit of glamour myself,’ he pants. ‘But I wouldn’t have been able to tell if she hadn’t let her glamour slip. It was only for a half second. That was enough.’

  I feel panic rise in my throat. I push down frantically on the bar to the emergency door and we burst out into bright sunlight.

  ‘Which way?’ O’Shea yells.

  ‘Right. No, wait.’ I point. ‘That way. Left.’

  We run. My mind turns over the expression in her eyes. She didn’t once look directly at me but she knew I was there. It was written all over her face. And she’d been able to read both our minds. ‘This is a trap,’ I say suddenly. ‘We’re running into a damn trap. She wanted us to come this way. She let her glamour slip deliberately so that we’d do this.’

  ‘Why?’

  There can only be one reason. ‘X.’ I fling my head round. ‘He’s here somewhere. He’s waiting for us.’ I slow down. ‘I wasn’t here for you!’ I yell. ‘I was here for Alice!’ Even to my own ears, the words sound flat as they echo off the walls around us.

  Nobody answers and I damn myself for a naive fool. Why did I think I could fool a Kakos daemon? He knows my lies better than I do. Not only that, but X has got friends and he’ll have enlisted them to make sure I don’t step out of line. I’ve brought O’Shea here and into danger; if we die, it’s all my fault. I just hope that my grandfather will be able to help Michael once I’m gone. My arrogance has been my undoing.

  ‘There’s no one here, Bo,’ O’Shea insists.

  For the first time in my life, I know what it feels like to be a tiny field mouse stalked by a farm cat with hunger pangs. ‘He’s here. He’s watching us.’

  ‘We’re alone.’

  I don’t believe it. O’Shea touches my arm. ‘Bo, you can’t let him intimidate like you this. We can’t even see him and you’re terrified.’

  ‘You know what he’s capable of.’

  ‘So let’s fight then. Two against one.’ He smiles wanly. ‘That’ll even up the odds up a bit.’

  It won’t and he knows it. I wait, my fists curled, but X still doesn’t show. Neither are we being followed. I breathe in slowly through my nose, trying to bring my heart rate down again. Eventually, when it seems like O’Shea is right, I sag. ‘You’re right. He’s not here.’

  O’Shea licks his finger and holds it up in the air. ‘Say that again. Say that I’m right again and you’re wrong.’

  I smooth my hands down against my thighs to get rid of the clammy sweat gathering there. O’Shea watches then pulls me into a hug. ‘He doesn’t care any more, Bo. He got what he wanted. He’s just toying with you.’

  I twist away. ‘It’s not that I’m afraid of dying.’

  O’Shea remains calm. ‘I know that.’

  ‘I’m not even afraid of the pain.’

  He regards me levelly. ‘You’re afraid that X will continue living and that you won’t be able to make him pay for what he’s done. It’s not just X though. All the damned Kakos daemons were involved in bringing down the Families.’

  I meet his eyes. ‘But X is the one who made it personal. I don’t care about the others.’ O’Shea frowns but doesn’t argue.

  I run my hands through my hair. ‘This was a mistake,’ I whisper. ‘Coming here was a mistake. Staying in the city was a mistake.’ I feel as if someone has dunked a bucket of icy water over me and now I finally understand what’s real. I’ve been kidding myself that I could take on X; it’s time to wake up and smell the damned blood. I drag in a breath. ‘We’ve not even seen X and I’m a mess.’ I tilt up my chin. ‘We should leave London. Tonight.’

  ‘What happened to that Bo Blackman determination? This is your city. Are you going to let him force you out?’ O’Shea seems puzzled, as if he doesn’t understand the severity of the situation.

  ‘It’s important to know when to quit.’ I glance back. My head is throbbing. ‘Nothing happened. No one spoke to us, no one threatened us, but I can feel it. It’s like I can taste it in the air. There’s nothing I’d like more than vengeance but I need to grow up.’ I think of what I said to Rogu3. ‘There are more important things. If we leave, there’s still hope for the future. Maybe, when we’re all back to full strength and we have the numbers, we can do something. But at this moment we’re powerless. I’m powerless. I was a fool to think otherwise.’

  O’Shea nods, loyal to a fault. ‘Okay, then. Let’s go.’

  Since the moment Michael opened his eyes, I’ve been waiting to confront X. The thought of bringing him to his knees was all that kept me going. That, and wishing for Michael to get better. Now, clichéd as it sounds, it feels like a gigantic weight has been lifted. There are other things apart from X for me to focus on. I can stop worrying about what will happen to London and start worrying about what will happen to me and mine.

  I think about Bruckheimer and Berryhill and the witches and Vince Hale. Nah. They can all go hang themselves. I’m going to take the advice that everyone’s been giving me for days. I’m going to run away.

  ***

  O’Shea and I jog to where the van is parked. I can still feel adrenaline firing through me. The female Kakos daemon doesn’t appear but there’s a prickling along the back of my neck that suggests she’s watching. She probably has her arm round X and they’re both laughing their heads off. I scowl with considerable ferocity.

  ‘What is it?’ O’Shea asks in alarm.

  ‘Too much damn thinking,’ I grunt.

  ‘That’s always been your problem,’ he says as he unlocks the driver’s door. ‘The old man is the same.’

  I open the van door. As I do, something flickers at the edge of my peripheral vision. I glance up and freeze. Not doubled over laughing then. X is leaving his shiny building with the swagger of someone who knows he’s at the top of the food chain. I hiss and his head snaps towards me. He stops moving abruptly.

  ‘Get in the van, Devlin,’ I say quietly.

  ‘Believe me, that’s what I’m…’ his voice falters. ‘Oh.’

  X lifts one hand and crooks his little finger, beckoning me to join him. The urge to leap into the van with O’Shea gunning the engine is almost overwhelming. For what seems like an eternity but is probably less than a few seconds, my feet are rooted to the spot.

  O’Shea urges me inside. ‘Bo!’

  I tilt my chin. X is getting what he wants: I’m going to leave my damn city for him. I fold my arms and glare. He smiles lazily in return and drops his glamour. At once h
is dark tattoos are visible, writhing across his skin in perpetual motion. He beckons me forward once more.

  ‘Bo, we can still get away,’ O’Shea says.

  I shake my head. ‘No. He could run us down if he wanted.’ As I watch, X’s smile broadens. ‘He’s not going to do anything here.’

  ‘You don’t know that!’

  ‘Yeah,’ I say softly, ‘I do. It wouldn’t be … gentlemanly.’

  In response, X sweeps a perfectly executed bow. Ignoring the tension in my spine, I mutter, ‘Keep the engine running.’ Then, as if I don’t have a care in the world, I stroll across to meet the creature who destroyed my life.

  ‘Bo,’ X drawls, once I’m close enough. ‘How utterly wonderful to see you again. Although I have to say, you’re looking a little worse for wear.’ He frowns. ‘You should get more sleep.’

  ‘Say what you have to say, X,’ I tell him. ‘You know we’re leaving.’ An image of his lady friend flashes into my mind. So I’m intimidated. That’s what they both wanted.

  X takes the smallest step backward. His tattoos, which are starting to make me feel nauseous with all their twisting and turning, vanish into his skin as his face melds back into a human façade. ‘You should leave,’ he agrees, his mellifluous voice flowing over me like a caress. A caress from a genocidal dictator, that is. ‘The city of London is no longer the place for one of your kind.’

  Despite my fear, my anger sparks to the surface. ‘One of my kind?’ I spit. ‘Whose fault is it that I have to my leave my bloody home? You prick. You vicious, soul-sucking cock. You…’

  He holds up a palm. ‘I get the message,’ he says calmly. He raises an eyebrow. That must be the signature move of every damn Kakos daemon. ‘You’re very angry, Bo.’

  He has got to be kidding me.

  ‘You should be happy,’ he continues. ‘I saved the love of your life. I wouldn’t have done that for just anyone, you know.’ He reaches out and draws the tip of his index finger down my cheek. I can’t stop myself from recoiling. ‘You’re special.’