The SUV rumbles down the dirt track and I try not to think about Skinny. The spot where the bullet popped in his skull, blood splattering the window, his limbs flailing as he crumpled into the mud. And me, pressing my foot so hard against the accelerator it’s a miracle my boot didn’t go through the floor. Tearing away. Leaving Skinny behind, just another name to add to the list.
And now I’m back.
I’m not in the back of a van this time, though, and there’s no bag over my head. I’m returning willingly and I want to laugh at the insanity of it all.
Bolt.
His name beats through me. My jaw ticks. I’m so close. At the end of the track is the warehouse where he’s being held captive. My free fist curls into a ball as I imagine what they’ve done to him. He won’t have gone easily. He’ll have torn chunks out of anybody who came near and they’ll have had no choice but to do the same to him. Is he shackled somewhere? Hanging in pieces? Coughing blood?
I swallow the nausea down. Grit my teeth. Order the spider to stop shivering.
I couldn’t risk coming here until there was a chance the curse was broken. Me appearing when Bolt was already beaten to shit wouldn’t exactly improve his chances of survival.
All I can hope is that it’s enough.
I put a bullet in her. She’s gone and the curse with her. I hope.
The SUV eases to a stop outside the warehouse. Shadowy figures surround it immediately, phantom-like through the tinted windows. The doors open and Mara slides out. Rose eyes me as she follows him.
My boots hit the tarmac and for a moment I expect Mara’s ninjas to seize me and wrench the Crook Spear out of my hands, but I’m just being paranoid. Mara really does want me working for him and he knows that’ll never happen if he humiliates me.
‘Come,’ Mara says, sweeping towards the entrance.
The stink inside the warehouse isn’t as bad as I remember. Maybe I’ve grown accustomed to the reek of death. Mara passes beneath dangling chains, heading for a door with a weathered sign. OFFICE. One of his ninjas goes in before him, then gives him the okay.
A red neon haze hangs inside Mara’s lounge. The last time I was here, my hands were bound to a chair. This time, I stroll over the threshold, batting a butterfly out the way.
‘I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.’ Mara’s at a cabinet lined with glass decanters. He pours a measure of cherry red liquor and offers it to me. I ignore it, anxiety burying hooks in my gut. Why is Mara delaying?
‘Bolt. Where is he?’
‘Your man friend? He’s safe,’ Mara says, still holding the glass out.
‘Take me to him.’
A hacking laugh comes from the other side of the room and a chill runs through me. I squint at a form on the sofa. The guy’s face is such a mess it takes me a moment to recognise him. Nicotine Man. Ellis. He survived the basement at George’s, but just barely by the look of him.
I see Ellis slicing open George’s throat and the red haze in the air boils, flooding my veins. I’m already halfway to the sofa before I’m even aware I’m moving.
‘No, Rumer.’
Mara’s voice rings through the din in my head. I stop just short of the sofa.
‘At least give his bruises the chance to heal before you use him as a punchbag again.’
Ellis isn’t laughing any more. His left eye has puffed up into a soft dumpling, but the other one, unblinking, shines with anger and fear.
‘I can wait,’ I say.
‘Stupid cow,’ Ellis spits, then he screams, clutching his face where I have clocked him with the Crook Spear.
‘No! The gun!’ Mara’s voice is tight. ‘Stop!’
It feels too good to hit him, even if a flash of George’s dying face accompanies every blow. Eventually, I’m dragged away.
‘Get off me,’ I grunt, yanking my arms free of Mara’s men, pressing the Crook Spear to my thigh, rigid with anger. Even if I caved Ellis’ skull in it wouldn’t be enough. I’d keep hitting him until he’s nothing but mulch.
I was wrong to go back to George and I was wrong to leave him in the first place. Nobody can know what Ellis robbed me of. George could have loved me. He could have been my family. When all this was over I could have gone back to him.
‘I’ll take you to your friend,’ Mara says, sounding breathless. ‘I’ll take you to him. Just be careful with the Crook Spear.’
I nod and Mara whisks the kimono about him as he leaves the lounge. I recognise where we’re going as we cross the derelict main building, Rose behind me. We pass through a crumbling doorway and I spot the black square in the floor. The one they tipped me into.
Mara gestures towards it and, tentatively, I approach, making sure Mara’s men aren’t about to repeat any of their dirty tricks. A few of them stand against the walls, clutching firearms and batons. They stare straight ahead and I’m pretty sure they won’t jump me.
I edge over to the grate and peer through the gaps.
‘Bolt?’ My voice catches and Mara must notice it. He knows my weakness. Rose sneers beside him but she’s nothing to me.
There’s no answer.
Through the grate, I can just make out the dull flowers on the dead girl’s dress. She’s still there. Still grinning.
I speak louder. ‘Bolt? It’s Rumer.’
Something rustles in the dark of the pit. I think I hear a whisper, followed by a cough.
‘Rumer?’ a voice croaks. It’s so faint but my insides somersault. It’s definitely him.
‘Bolt, are you okay?’
More rustling and a shape shuffles into view. I can barely see him in the dark of the pit, but what I do see fills me with rage. He’s filthy, blood plastered over his face, his clothes torn.
But he’s alive.
I turn to Mara. ‘Let him go.’
‘Once I have the gun, he’ll be released.’ He says it calmly but I can tell the anticipation is killing him. His gaze wavers like he’s trying not to look at the Crook Spear and each second is agony.
I point the gun at the ceiling and make sure he can see my finger on the trigger.
‘Only one bullet left,’ I say. ‘You really want me to waste it making that bit of ceiling immortal?’
‘You waste that bullet and you’ll throw everything away. If you really want to join me, you’ll do as I ask.’
‘We had a deal,’ I say, not backing down. ‘Get him out of that pit and I’ll hand the gun over.’
‘I–’
‘Clock’s ticking, Mara. Did my mother never tell you about me? About what happens to people around me? You need this bullet more than ever.’
From his expression, I can tell he’s heard the rumours.
‘Get him out of that pit, and you’ll have everything you need to rule London.’
Sweat trickles down one side of his face and I know I’ve won. He can’t take any more waiting. He just wants the gun and he doesn’t care enough about me or Bolt to drag this out any longer.
‘Bring him up,’ he says finally.
Two of the ninjas against the wall hurry away.
I lower the gun.
‘Curses,’ Mara murmurs. The way he’s looking at me now is unnerving, like he’s realised he has something on me. He draws himself up to his full height.
‘Difficult to predict,’ he says softly. ‘Curses. How much do you know about yours?’
My lips press together.
‘That little? How interesting. You know the basics, I’m sure. What your mother did to you. It must have been torture growing up with that knowledge. That she chose herself over you.’
‘Shut up.’ I hate that I’m trembling, that anything he says has any impact on me.
‘Nasty what she did to you, but then you know what she was capable of. A curse like that, it’d take something big to break it.’
‘It’s already broken,’ I say.
Mara’s eyes become slits. ‘You shot her and you think you’ve broken the curse.’ His expression makes my temples throb. ‘If only it were that easy.’
‘Poor baby,’ Rose says.
‘Quite.’ Mara nods. ‘You get cursed, that curse becomes as much a part of you as the blood in your veins. Fused with you forever.’
What’s he saying? That killing Celene was for nothing?
‘Rumer…’
Bolt stumbles through the door, barely supported by two of Mara’s men. He begins to cross the floor towards me.
‘Stay back,’ I say.
Bolt freezes.
‘The gun,’ Mara says but my mind’s whirring, attempting to make sense of what he’s just told me. The curse may not be broken, and if it isn’t I’m still dangerous. My gaze flicks over the room, seeing hazards everywhere. Any second, the floor could give or the ceiling could cave in or one of Mara’s men could trip and put a bullet in Bolt’s head.
Bolt. He’s the one who matters. He’s the one who deserves to live. I raise the Crook Spear and aim it at him.