Once Bitten (Shadow Guild: The Rebel #1) - Linsey Hall Page 0,55
get what I need.” Remington strode back to the stairs.
“He won’t be long.” I handed Carrow her mobile back.
“He’ll do the spell up here?”
“It seems so.”
She looked like some kind of ancient goddess with the wind blowing her hair back from her face and intensity gleaming in her eyes. “Why didn’t you answer my question down on the wall?”
Bloody hell. She wasn’t going to let that one go. “Are you happy in the human world?”
She frowned. “You’re changing the subject.”
“You’re quick.”
“And not susceptible to flattery.”
“Answer my question, and perhaps I’ll answer yours.”
“I don’t like the sound of that perhaps.”
“It’s the best you’ll get.”
“Fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I am happy in the human world.”
“No, you’re not.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I’d like to.”
She hesitated at that, surprise flashing across her face. “Really?”
“Very much.” My candor startled me. I rarely shared my thoughts with anyone. Unnecessary when I could get whatever I wanted. I was very good at getting my own way. “Tell me. Are you happy in the real world? The human one?”
“What is happy?”
“That’s a no, then.”
She shrugged. “It’s my home.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
She looked past me, out at the city. Her face turned wistful, and something tightened in my heart. I grimaced, barely resisting rubbing my chest.
Feelings.
I didn’t like them.
Unfortunately, around her, it seemed impossible not to have them.
“What is it about the human world that you like?”
She blinked at me, seeming confused. “My books from Beatrix, I suppose. Cordelia.”
“Who is Cordelia?”
“A raccoon.”
“What?”
“I like her, okay? She lives in the alley behind my flat. Or at least, I thought she did.”
I couldn’t do anything about a raccoon. But the books… “Your books? Surely you could bring those here.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? That doesn’t make any sense. They are just books. They can be taken from London to Guild City.”
“I’d need to go back and get them, and as it stands, I’m a wanted woman.” A shadow crossed her face. “There’s every chance the police have taken them into evidence.”
“Well, with any luck, we’ll have you off the hook for that crime soon. And we’ll avenge your friend.”
“It may be too late.”
“It’s never too late.” That was a bloody lie. It was often too late. I’d learned that the hard way. “But if that’s all you have there, I see no reason why you would stay in the human world.”
She was silent for a moment, and I could see the thoughts turning behind her eyes. “What about you? I answered you. Your turn.”
My enhanced hearing picked up the sound of footsteps, and I grinned. “I believe Remington is returning.”
“You haven’t answered my questions.”
“Alas, I have not.”
“That’s not fair.”
“It certainly isn’t.”
Carrow
I grumbled, giving the Devil one last annoyed look. He’d told me his name was Grey, but it was still hard to think of him that way.
Remington appeared through the trap door, a leather bag in his hands. He approached, asking, “Could I see that image again?”
I pulled out my mobile, showing the picture to Remington. He studied it for a moment, then nodded. “That’s all I need, thank you.”
Quickly, I put the mobile back in my pocket. The Devil stood next to me. His face was impassive as the sorcerer reached inside his leather bag. This was old hat to him, but magic still astounded me.
He still astounded me.
A vampire, and one who so quickly saw to the heart of me. Who distracted me so easily. Who played me like a fiddle.
I didn’t like it.
I stepped away from him, determined to ignore him. It wasn’t easy when his scent wrapped around me, rich and delicious. I wanted to breathe him in. Hell, I just wanted to stand in his presence and feel whatever strange connection it was that we had. I was afraid of him, I didn’t particularly like him, but damn if he didn’t make me feel good just by standing next to me.
Alive. That’s how I felt. So alive that I vibrated with it.
In the human world, I’d existed, a shadow life in a shadow world. There, but not there. Half dead, even. Just me and Cordelia and my little single-size boxes of wine.
And now I was here, and the world seemed so big and open and amazing.
Remington pulled various vials of potion out of his bag and poured them on the ground like paint, drawing a pattern that matched the image on my phone. The symbol that had been carved—or burned—into the victim’s chest appeared on the rooftop, two meters wide, a perfect duplicate at a larger