Spirit of the Fallen, page 3
part #1 of White Haven Hunters Series
“You admire her,” Mason said, watching him carefully.
“Yes. She’s very honest—well, with the witches and me at least. She was stranded here after the witches defeated the Wild Hunt on Samhain.”
Mason’s hand tightened on his glass for a brief second, his face becoming taut. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“Sorry, didn’t I? I guess we’ve been too busy finding the right buyer and arranging the sale. It’s earned us a good commission.”
“And her partner, he’s not fey?”
Harlan shook his head. “No.” He didn’t like to admit that he knew nothing about Gabe. He was very reserved. All he knew was that he ran a security firm that employed a handful of men, and Shadow lived with them.
Mason fell silent, looking out of the window again, but his gaze was distant. Harlan had to remind himself that no matter how good Mason’s contacts were, and no matter how efficiently he ran the London office, he wasn’t as good at detecting magic and the Otherworldly like Harlan and the other collectors. It’s why Mason had moved from being a collector to becoming the director at such a young age. That put Harlan at a distinct advantage, not that he ever showed that to Mason.
Mason finally turned to look at him. “I can’t think of a job we need her for at the moment. Can you?”
Harlan ran through their current workload. They had a number of regular clients, and they also had clients who approached them for single contracts. The Guild’s role was to source objects that may be suitable for their many clients by keeping an eye on auction houses, both legitimate and those of a more private nature, and advising them accordingly. Or it could be that the client would identify an object and employ them to get it. As an organisation, they were flexible. Whatever the client wanted they would source, within reason, but the boundaries were elastic. At present they were working a few contracts, but nothing they couldn’t handle. But Mason would know that more than anyone. He had oversight of everything.
“No. She has a select set of skills. I suggest we use her carefully.”
Mason gave one of his most calculating smiles. “I agree. In the meantime, try and find out exactly what special skills she has, and maybe a little more about Mr Malouf. We employed a fey once before, but it was long before my role here. He was tricky, I know that much. Did you see her fight the Empusa?”
“No, I was too busy watching the meteoric rise of the ancient forest, and hoping I wasn’t about to end up dead.”
“Shame. I’d like to know how good she is.” Mason returned to his desk, and pulled his phone towards him, a distinctly calculating look on his face. He had a mobile phone, but Mason was old-fashioned and hardly ever used it. “Thanks, Harlan. If you have no other business, take the rest of the afternoon off. You’ve earned it.”
Harlan drained his glass and headed for the door. It was Friday, and he had plans for the weekend, so he wasn’t about to hang around and see Mason change his mind. “Thanks. You too.”
As he shut the door behind him, he wondered just who Mason might be calling, but if he had any thought of eavesdropping, it was quickly dispelled when he saw Robert coming towards him, treading as softly as a cat. He was Mason’s private secretary, and as slippery as a mongoose.
“Business concluded?” Robert asked sharply.
“Like clockwork,” Harlan answered, refusing to bite back. He grinned broadly. “Have a nice weekend.” He added asshole silently to himself, and as he headed to the stairs, shrugged off the trickle of concern Mason’s fervid gleam had given him.
Chapter Three
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Gabe joined Shadow at the corner table and placed her beer in front of her.
They sat in the corner of a busy pub, both with their backs to the wall so they could watch the patrons’ activities. Shadow was still full of nervous energy, and she picked up her beer and took a long drink. When she finally put it down, she sighed. “That’s better.”
Gabe watched her. “That went well. Pleased?”
“Very. I’m not sure if I like Mason, though. Something about him made me uncomfortable.”
“I know what you mean,” Gabe agreed, nodding thoughtfully. “But we don’t know him. He could treat everyone like that. At least he looked at you most of the time. He ignored me completely.”
“That’s because I’m prettier.”
“Pretty annoying,” he shot back.
“Pretty useful, actually. Have you seen our account?” She pulled her phone out of her pocket, brought up the app for their bank, and then passed it to him.
Gabe stared at the phone and grinned, animating his normally serious face. He had a good sense of humour, but didn’t often show it. “That a good start,” he said, settling himself against the back of his seat.
“Do you think you’ll eventually stop the security work?”
“Maybe. But for now we’re contracted to Caspian, and I’ll honour that. Besides, the discipline of daily work is good.” He referred to Caspian Faversham, who was the director of Kernow Industries, and was a powerful witch from an old magical family. Gabe had secured a contract to provide security at Caspian’s main warehouse in Harecombe, the town next to White Haven.
Shadow watched him over the rim of her glass. He was cagey about his history, but his physique and bearing betrayed his warrior past, and dictated his future, to an extent. All the Nephilim were close, despite the fact that they weren’t all from the same region—they’d told her that much. Other than Gabe and Nahum, who had the same Angel father, the others had different fathers, and that might mean some of their powers were different; but again, that was pure speculation on her part.
“You seem to know what your life will be here.”
Gabe laughed. “Do I? What makes you say that?”
“You seem confident, not worried about change or this strange world we live in.”
“Change is inevitable—it’s how we deal with it that’s important. And this world is no different to how it was in my time, not really. There’s just more technology.”
She wasn’t sure what her future would be, and she mused aloud, “At least I’ll have the money to pursue trying to find my way back home.”
He frowned. “You should listen to the witches. They’re right. You’re stuck here. Isn’t that what the Raven King said, too?”
“I refuse to accept that. There are portals between this world and ours, but they’re well hidden. However, I’m creative and good at finding things.”
“So, now what?”
“Now I make a list of the most probable places and start there. Dan has already helped me with this.”
“Dan from Avery's shop? You’re nuts. That could take forever.”
“I’ve got a long time.” As she said it, she felt a weight settle within her. She did have a long time, and the prospect of endlessly trying to get home and trailing around a whole list of mystical places suddenly didn’t seem that exciting. What was she thinking? She pushed her doubts aside. She had to try.
As if he’d read her mind, Gabe said softly, “We are as long-lived as you, probably. We need to think smartly about what we do with our lives. No social media, no showy lifestyles. We need to blend in, like the witches. And we’ll have to move at some point, pretend to die, and reinvent ourselves.”
“But I like White Haven, and I like Ravens’ Wood.”
“I don’t mean now, but we will in the future.”
Shadow had a vision of her life as a fugitive, and she wasn’t sure if that excited her or depressed her, but Gabe had said ‘we.’ She liked that. It made her feel less lonely. She finished her pint. “Have we got time for another?”
“I think so. Your round,” he said, pushing his glass towards her.
***
When they arrived back at the farmhouse that night, it was late. Three of the Nephilim were at home, all playing on one of the games consoles in their living room.
The living room was a large space at the side of the house, overlooking the moors. When they first moved in, the place was bare, and Gabe hadn’t wanted to spend money on luxuries, but as they’d made more money and secured better jobs, they pooled their cash and brought more goods. Most of the Nephilim were from the ancient Middle East and the Mediterranean, except for Barak, who was from Ethiopia. Their decorations reflected those styles. Various tables were dotted around, and a couple of lamps lit dim corners. As well as a couple of long low sofas, there were also huge floor cushions and thick rugs spread across the bare wooden floor. Nahum still liked to smoke a hookah, and one stood to the side of the fireplace. That was the other thing they all agreed on—a fire that blazed pretty much all day if they were in. They all liked the warmth, and even though they could tolerate the cold easily, they didn’t like to.
Tonight, the only light came from the fire and the large TV mounted on the wall, and Nahum, Ash, and Zee lounged in front of it, yelling furiously at each other, surrounded by half-full bowls of crisps and discarded beer bottles.
The Nephilim loved war games and action games, and competed furiously. They thrived on physical combat, and consequently picked up the occasional injury. That was okay; they healed fast. That was a gift from their fathers. However, new technology meant they had found other ways to fight, and this was generally safer. Gabe watched the action on the screen, still amazed at the quality of the picture. He would never have imagined that this would be the future of mankind, and he still couldn’t decide if it was good or bad. At least these games were better than actual war, and they’d all had their far share of that.
Shadow was as competitive as any of them, and she hustled Zee along on the couch, grabbing a controller. “I want in!”
“Too late,” Ash said, distracted. “I’m about to kick Nahum’s butt.”
“No way!” Nahum objected. His fingers punched the controller aggressively before groaning loudly as his character experienced a grisly death.
Ash grinned. “Told you!”
“You must have cheated.”
“Yeah, right,” Ash said, standing and stretching. Ash, short for Asher, hadn’t cut his hair short, and it fell below his shoulders. He wore a short beard under intense hazel eyes. “It must be time for another beer.”
Zee was already setting up the next game, but shouted, “For me, too!” Zee had a new scar on his cheek from his encounter with the Wild Hunt. He looked around at Gabe. “How did business go?”
“Successfully. We closed our first deal! I like Harlan, but not Mason Jacobs,” Gabe told them as he thought back over their meeting. “There’s something slippery about him, but there is also potential for future business.”
“There’s still more going on in that place than we know, though,” Shadow said. Her violet eyes shone with fey light. She eased her glamour when she was around them, and her Otherness was more obvious.
“Of course there is,” Gabe admitted. “We’ll probably never know half of it.”
Zee frowned. “That doesn’t matter though, does it, as long as they pay us?”
“True, and we were paid well today,” Gabe said. “But you know me. I like to have the full picture. I’m a strategist.” He sat on the end of the sofa and reached absently for some crisps, pondering the best way to find out more about the Orphic Guild. He could ask Newton, the DI and head of paranormal investigations for the Cornwall and Devon police, but he was wary of involving him in their business. However, they had skills, too.
He looked at Nahum, who looked back at him warily. He was physically similar to Gabe, but while Gabe had brown eyes, Nahum’s were blue. Otherwise, they both had thick dark hair, and were square-jawed and olive-skinned. Back in their old life, they had worked together all the time; Nahum was his right-hand man, and all the others knew it.
Nahum put the game controller down, and frowned at Gabe. “Why do I get the impression you have a job for me?”
“Beckett and Jacobs know me, but they have no idea about the rest of us. How would you like to hang around in London for a while and check out their place?”
Nahum’s eyes gleamed with intrigue. “I like it. What exactly am I looking for?”
“Visitors, unusual behaviour...” Gabe shrugged. “I don’t know exactly, but I just want to find out more about them. They have lots of money, and I want to know how legitimate it is.”
Shadow sat cross-legged, watching him. “You think they’re lying?”
“I don’t know, but that’s the trouble. You might find nothing significant, Nahum, and that’s okay. Just hang around and watch. We’ve got enough money to put you up in a decent hotel.”
“When do you want me to go?”
“In a couple of days, maybe even tomorrow if we can get a hotel booked quickly. Is there much happening at the warehouse?”
Nahum spent most of his days there, splitting his shifts mainly with Othniel and Barak, but the other Nephilim took their turns, too. Caspian had originally planned to get rid of his regular security team, but in the end on Gabe’s advice had kept them on, and the Nephilim were in charge of them. It meant the Nephilim had time to pursue other avenues of business.
Nahum shrugged. “No. Everything is going smoothly, although Caspian is away at the moment, and I’m dealing with Estelle on everyday matters. There’s a big shipment expected in tonight, though, so that’s why Barak and Niel are there. She insisted on needing two of us.” Estelle was Caspian’s sister, and she was as mean as a snake.
Gabe groaned. “She makes life so awkward.”
“I like her,” Nahum said, a wicked grin on his face. “Awkward is fun.”
“You’re so weird,” Shadow told him.
Nahum just laughed as Ash came back into the room with a handful of bottled beers, and handed them out. “Nahum has always had a thing for feisty females.”
Feisty was one word for her, but Gabe had better ones. “It’s unlike Caspian to be away for so long.”
“Just business, I guess,” Nahum speculated.
Shadow laughed. “You men know nothing. Avery has broken his heart, and he headed off to clear his head.”
Gabe grunted in surprise. “Caspian likes Avery? I thought he hated the White Haven witches.”
Shadow looked at him in disbelief. “You’re such an idiot sometimes. Don’t you notice anything? That last business with the Empusa had him and Alex almost at each other’s throats over her. It’s only the fact that Alex is Mr Cool that he didn’t punch him.”
“Interesting,” Gabe said thoughtfully. “Avery is a little too quiet for my liking. I don’t get it.”
Zee just grinned. “You’re as bad as Nahum. You like women with a temper.” He slid his gaze toward Shadow, who was too busy setting the game up to notice.
Gabe did not dignify his dig with a response. “I presume Eli is out tonight with another woman?” Eli was proving popular with the ladies in White Haven, and working at Briar’s Charming Balms Apothecary meant he met lots of them.
Ash reached for a controller as he answered. “You presume correctly. He must be exhausted.”
“The best kind of exhaustion, though. Right?” Nahum said, smirking.
Gabe rolled his eyes. “Let’s hope he doesn’t catch something.”
“That’s the beauty of being us though, isn’t it?” Nahum replied. “We don’t get diseases! Anyway, Gabe, what’s my plan for London?”
“I’ll sort the hotel out tomorrow, and get you a train ticket. The Orphic Guild is in an exclusive part of London, so I’ll get you a room as close as we can afford. If you find out anything and think you need help, we’ll send backup.”
“No, don’t bother with a train,” Nahum said with a grimace. “I hate public transport. I’ll drive. Find me a hotel with parking.”
“Fair enough. But call me every day with updates.”
“And now can we stop talking business?” Shadow asked. “I want to fight one of you, and I’m going to win.”
“Game on,” Zee said, picking up the spare controller and settling himself in front of the TV.
Gabe popped the cap off his bottle, leaned back in his seat, and settled back to watch the fun.
***
The next morning, Shadow had a last-minute panic attack after selling the Empusa’s sword, despite the fact that they’d tested it extensively, and she phoned El to arrange to meet her for another check on the remaining sword. El had suggested that they meet at the smithy that she used to make her bigger pieces of metalwork, such as her daggers and swords.
The blacksmith was situated just out of town, in a small hamlet called Polkirt. Shadow had never been there before, and she was looking forward to going. Because it was located in such a small place, it was easy for Shadow to ride to, and she raced across the fields on Kailen. There was a cool wind blowing, and by the time she arrived at the forge, her cheeks were flushed from the journey.
She dismounted, tying Kailen to a fence post that surrounding the courtyard. El’s Land Rover was already there, next to a black van, and on the building was a sign that read, Dante’s Forge. She headed to the open door of the old stone building, and as soon as she stepped inside, the heat of the furnace hit her, as did the resounding clang of metal on metal. She squinted to see into the dark interior. The windows along the side of the building were small and grubby with long-accumulated dirt, and mostly blocked with shelving and a random assortment of objects that were stacked on long counter tops that ran along the sides of the building. A fire dominated one end of the room, and a well-built man was hammering out a long piece of hot metal on the anvil. At his side, watching him closely, was El.
As usual, El looked an arresting sight. Her long, white-blonde hair was cascading down her back, and she wore black jeans tucked into leather biker boots, and a blood red leather jacket that matched her scarlet lipstick. Her rings, necklaces, and piercing glinted in the low light. The man next to her had dreadlocks pulled back from his face with a bandana, and sweat beaded his brow. As Shadow approached, El turned and saw her, and headed to her side, hugging her tightly.
