Wolf Island (The Demonata #8)

Wolf Island (The Demonata #8) Page 5

It's chaos downstairs. Juni Swan forced down a helicopter during the duel on the roof. The flames are still flickering, though the teams of firefighters who were quick on the scene have the worst of the blaze under control. Shattered glass from the hospital windows lines the surrounding streets like crystal confetti. The dead and wounded are everywhere, covered in blankets or being nursed by bloodied, shaken medics. Police buzz around like angry bees.

Shark has no problem talking his way through. A few words with the commanding officer and we're being escorted past the teams of baying news reporters to a spot in the city where we're free to go our own way. The Disciples have contacts in some pretty high places.

First things first-we're exhausted and need to sleep. We find the nearest hotel and book three connecting rooms. The receptionist regards us warily and almost refuses us entry, but when Shark produces a platinum credit card and says he'll pay up front, and that he wants their best rooms, the man behind the desk undergoes a swift transformation.

I'd like to talk through events with Shark and Meera, but both disappear to their beds as soon as we've tipped the bellboy and shut the doors, so I've no choice but to follow their lead.

The room's large, but it feels cramped after a year spent sleeping wild-if not often-beneath vast demonic skies. I open the windows and stick my head out, breathing in fresh air as I replay the scenes from the hospital. Why the hell did I volunteer to stay behind? I could be with Dervish now, catching up, taking care of him. Instead I've promised to track down Prae Athim and put a stop to whatever's going on between Lord Loss and the Lambs. Just how I'm going to do that is a mystery. I spoke before I thought, like an over-eager hero. I've been hanging around Beranabus too long!

Withdrawing, I decide the plans can wait. I go to the toilet, then undress and slide beneath the soft bedcovers. I'm worried I won't be able to sleep, that I'll lie awake all night. But within a minute my eyelids go heavy and seconds later it's lights out.

Breakfast in bed is heavenly. I eat like a ravenous savage, bolting down sausages, bacon, eggs, mushrooms. And toast! How can a few burnt bits of bread smeared with churned-up cow's milk taste so delicious?

There's a knock on one of the connecting doors while I'm mopping up the juice from my baked beans. "C'm' in," I grunt.

Meera appears like an angel, in an ivory-white nightdress. Washed, manicured, the works. You'd never guess that twelve hours earlier she'd been elbow-deep in demon blood.

"Wow!" I exclaim, dropping the toast and clapping.

She beams and gives me a twirl, then perches on the edge of my bed and picks up the toast. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," I grin, though I'd have bitten the hand off anybody else who tried to take my last piece.

"I've been up for hours," she says.

"You should have woken me."

"Why? Did you want a manicure too?"

"Very funny. But I could have done with a haircut."

"That's for sure," she sniffs. "I ordered some clothes for you. I can't wait to see you in them. I love dressing up boys, especially fashion-challenged teens."

"Me? Fashion-challenged? I never used to be."

"Well, you are now." She takes my tray and tugs at the bedsheets. "Come on. Chop-chop!"

"Whoah!" I yelp, only just managing to grab on to the sheets in time. "I'm naked under here!"

"That's OK," she says. "You sleepwalked into my room last night and did a dance on my rug. I saw it all then."

I stare at her, more horrified than I've been in the face of any demon. Then she winks wickedly and races out of the room before I batter her to death with a pillow.

Shark's the last to rise. We hold a conference in his room while he tucks into lunch, wearing a robe which just about covers his privates.

"So," he mumbles through a half full mouth. "What's the plan?"

I scratch my head and smile sheepishly. "I kind of hoped you guys would have one..."

Shark and Meera share a wry glance.

"I thought you were our leader," Meera says.

"You set the ball rolling," Shark agrees. "We just came along for the ride."

"I don't know what to do," I grumble. "It was easy in the demon universe. We cornered demons, beat them up and sometimes killed them. It's different here. I don't know where to start. How will we find Prae Athim? It seemed like the simplest thing in the world last night, but now..."

"Not such a big shot in the cold light of day, is he?" Shark jeers.

"Don't tease him," Meera tuts. "It was brave of him to volunteer."

"But stupid." Shark points a thick finger at me. "What use are you to us? Why shouldn't we leave you here and pick you up when it's all over?"

Stung, I focus on the bed. The mattress quivers and comes alive. It throws off the startled Shark, then bucks from the bed and lands on his back, driving him down. He lashes out, bellowing with alarm, but the mattress smashes him flat and pounds at him relentlessly.

"Enough," Meera says softly, laying a hand on my shoulder.

I scowl at her, then ease up. I'm sweating slightly.

A bruised Shark gets to his feet, smoothes his robe and studies me calmly. "OK, I'm impressed. You're a magician?"

"Yes."

"How powerful are you?"

I shrug. "I never really tested myself on this world. That trick with the mattress tired me, but I could do a lot more."

"How much more?" Shark presses.

"No idea," I answer honestly. "But in the absence of any windows between universes, I'm stronger than any mage we'll face."

"I suppose we might as well bring him along," Shark says grudgingly to Meera.

"Where do we start?" Meera asks. "Do you know where Prae Athim's based?"

"I never even heard of her before last night," Shark says. "I knew about the Grady werewolves and the Lambs, but they were never my problem. Still, this won't be the first time I've gone looking for someone. We'll find her."

"We could do with some help," Meera notes. "They have armed troops, as we saw in Carcery Vale."

"The Disciples?" Shark asks.

"The Disciples," Meera agrees.

The pair produce mobile phones and start dialling.

The mages aren't interested in our mission. This is a bad time for humanity. Demons are attempting to cross faster, and in greater numbers, than ever before. The Disciples are rushed off their feet, dashing from one crisis to another. There have been six successful crossings this year and more than a dozen foiled attempts. And those are only the recorded attacks-more probably went unnoticed. Over five hundred people that we know of have died, not including those at the hospital last night. That's an average decade's worth of action.

The Disciples that Shark and Meera chat with over the course of the day don't care about werewolves or the Lambs. They don't even respond when told that Beranabus is involved. Most times, the mere mention of his name is enough to whip them into action. But not now. We can fight our own battles as far as they're concerned.

Shark and Meera turn to their other allies when the Disciples fall through. They have a network of contacts-soldiers, politicians, police officers, doctors, etc. They call on them for support when demons cross and create merry hell. The operatives move in to clear up the mess, bury the dead, comfort the survivors, kill the story before it spreads.

Meera's contacts are mostly media types and corporate directors. She rings around, asking about the Lambs, but the Grady executioners keep a low profile. She learns that they have several worldwide bases, but Prae Athim could be at any of them.

Shark takes a different approach. He phones a guy called Timas Brauss and tells him to come as swiftly as possible. He then contacts people in armies or who were once soldiers. He sets about assembling a small unit of men and women with a variety of skills-explosives experts, mechanics, pilots, scuba divers and more. He won't need them all, but he puts in place a large force to draw from. They're more cooperative than the Disciples. Shark seems to command a lot of respect in military circles.

The calls continue into the night. It's the most frustrating day I've spent in a long time. There's nothing I can do except sit, listen and run errands for Shark or Meera, fetching them food and drink.

I try to watch TV, but I can't get comfortable. I'm worried that Shark and Meera will think I'm slacking. Eventually I crawl into bed, tired and grumpy, thinking I should have stayed in the demon universe. At least I served some bloody good over there!