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As I walked silently alongside them, Murphy looked sideways at Kiera, and trying to sound knowledgeable, he said, “What I can’t figure out is how you knew I decapitated one of those skinwalkers. Was it blood splatter patterns again?”
“No,” Kiera said, looking straight ahead.
“What then?” Murphy frowned.
“You left its freaking head behind,” Kiera said, striding ahead, back towards the van.
Murphy stopped in his tracks and watched her go, his mouth open wide.
I couldn’t help but secretly smile to myself.
Chapter Five
Kiera
I scrambled over the wall and dropped down onto the other side. I couldn’t explain where Kayla and Sam had suddenly disappeared to, and that troubled me. It frustrated me. What wasn’t I seeing? As far as I could tell, there was nothing left to see once those tracks had come to a sudden halt. It really was like Kayla, Sam, and this other female had just vanished into thin air. Had this something to do with the layers that Jack had mentioned?
Both Potter and Murphy leapt over the wall behind me, their feet thudding onto the hard-packed snow. I glanced back at them; both were dressed in black police-issue coats. They both looked worn and beat up. Potter’s bruises had almost faded away as his body quickly healed from the beating he had taken out in the field. Had he received such punishment coming to recue me?
The thought made me feel sorry for him. But I didn’t want to feel like that. Not yet – I was still too hurt, angry, and confused.
Potter caught me looking at him, and raising an eyebrow, he said, “What?”
“Nothing,” I whispered, turning away and sliding open the van door.
Potter brushed past me as I climbed inside, his hand deliberately coming to rest against my thigh. As he went, he leaned in close to me and whispered, “You may hate me, sweet-cheeks, but you just can’t stop looking at me. ”
“Dream on,” I muttered under my breath, yanking the van door closed in his face. I caught sight of Potter smirking to himself as he climbed into the seat next to Murphy. I so badly wanted to wipe that smile from his arrogant looking face. I clenched my fists and sat on them.
“Looks like we’ve got company,” Murphy suddenly said from the front of the van.
I glanced up to see a car heading down the narrow lane towards us. Although it was just black in colour, we knew it was an unmarked police car, because of the removable blue light attached to the roof. “Real cops or Skinwalkers?” I breathed.
“Either way, we’re fucked,” Potter said.
“It isn’t going to take them too long to figure out we’re the ones who ripped up their friends back here yesterday. I knew it was a bad idea coming back to this field. ”
“You never said,” I reminded him.
“Would you have listened?” Potter remarked, glancing over his shoulder at me.
“Let me do the talking,” Murphy said, swinging open the van door once more and climbing out.
Leaning forward in my seat, I watched Murphy stand in front of the van. The other police vehicle crawled slowly down the track, its thick tyres throwing up snow and slush. I peered ahead and could see four cops wedged into the unmarked patrol car.
“There’s four of them,” I told Potter.
Without saying anything back, Potter pushed open the van door and climbed out.
“Where are you going?” I hissed. “Murphy said to leave it up to him. ”
Potter slammed the door shut and joined Murphy in front of the van. Here we go again, I thought to myself, sliding open the van door and jumping out. I joined Murphy and Potter as the car came to a juddering halt in the snow. Murphy and Potter gave each other one quick, knowing look. It was like they had some kind of telepathic link. But despite their constant bickering and sniping at each other, they were a team – a partnership. Both were able to anticipate the other’s next move and both had each other’s back. It seemed that no father and son or any two brothers had the loyalty these two men showed one another when they were in trouble. Their friendship was unbreakable.
The driver’s door to the patrol car slowly creaked open. A giant of a man climbed out of the vehicle. His police cap was pressed flat on the top of his huge, round head, the beak pulled down too far; the rim almost touched the tip of his long nose.
He was dressed all in black, his police uniform immaculate – something Murphy would have been proud of. From the passenger’s seat climbed another cop. This one was smaller than the first, but carried in his hand a long, black rod which hissed and spat tiny blue sparks. The back doors opened on either side of the vehicle like a set of wings. The last two cops climbed out, and I could see that one of them was female. The four cops came forward.
Standing before us, the huge cop looked bigger, like some kind of freaky giant. The other swung the Taser in his fist like a club. The last two hung back.
“Who are you?” the giant cop asked, his dark eyes peering out at us from beneath the beak of his cap.
“We’re cops,” Potter said.
Now I don’t know if Potter was being a wise arse, but all the same, it seemed like a stupid thing to say.
“I can see that,” the cop growled, his voice sounding deep and throaty.
I saw the two silver pips on each of his shoulders. He was an Inspector, and he outranked Murphy.
“You’ll have to forgive Constable Gabriella,” Murphy cut in. “He is still young in service. He obviously didn’t understand your question. ”
“How many ways have I got to tell you, Sarge – its Gabriel! Gabriella is a freaking girl’s name!” Potter glared at Murphy.
The Inspector looked at both Murphy and Potter in disbelief as they stood and argued.
“Listen here, you couple of morons, I couldn’t give a crap what your name is. You need to get your act together and smarten up. Just look at yourselves. You’re a complete mess. ”
“See, Gabriella, I told you you’re untidy and need to smarten yourself up,” Murphy grunted. “But oh no, you wouldn’t listen to me.
And now the Inspector has seen you looking like a sack of shit, and we’re both in trouble. ”
“I don’t look like a sack of shit!” Potter snapped back at Murphy, taking a cigarette from his coat pocket and lighting it. “I wear my uniform with pride. Anyway, you’ve got no room to talk – you’re wearing carpet slippers, for fuck’s sake!”
“Is this some sort of a joke?” the Inspector roared. “I don’t believe what I’m hearing and seeing. How dare you stand there and smoke. . . ”
“Shit! I’m sorry, guvnor,” Potter said, taking another cigarette from his coat pocket and offering it to the Inspector. “How rude of me – I should have offered you one, too. ”
“If you don’t fancy a cigarette, I’ve got a pipe you can have a suck on,” Murphy cut in, fishing his pipe from his coat pocket.
The Inspector looked at both Murphy and Potter as if dumbstruck. Then, as if noticing me for the first time, he said, “And who are you, the sidekick?” Unlike my friends, I wasn’t dressed in police uniform.
Before I’d had a chance to say anything, Potter cut in and said, “This is our prisoner. We’ve arrested her. ”
“For what?” the Inspector scowled, and just for a moment, I saw a spark of yellow glint in his dull eyes. Potter had been right. We were fucked.
“For killing all those cops out here yesterday,” Murphy said, now puffing thoughtfully on his pipe.
The Inspector eyed me up and down, then looked back at Murphy. “You seriously expect me to believe that this young girl was responsible for killing all those police officers yesterday?”
“Yep,” Murphy said, blowing smoke casually from between his lips.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the two cops at the back reach for their long Taser sticks.
“I know she doesn’t look like much, but you should
see her in action. Believe me she can be a real tiger when she wants to be,” Potter smiled at the Inspector. Then winking at me, Potter added, “Isn’t that right?”
“Sure is,” I said, swinging my arm at speed towards the Inspector. Without even having to think about it, my razor-sharp claws sprang from my fingers and buried themselves in the Inspector’s throat. A jet of hot, black blood shot back at me, splashing my face. The Inspector threw his hands to his throat. They gripped my wrist, trying to pull my claws from his jugular. His blood pumped over my fist and down my arm in hot, sticky waves. He made a gargling sound in the back of his throat as he tried to scream. Blood sprayed from his open mouth and coated Potter.
“Now my uniform is a mess,” he groaned, tearing the coat from his back as he sprang into the air. In a flutter of black shadows, his wings were free. He clasped the head of the nearest cop in his claws. With one sudden and blindingly quick twist, he tore the cop’s head clean off. The head came away from the neck so clean and fast, that the body stood momentarily in the snow, until it toppled over.
The Inspector stopped struggling and fell still. I slid my claws from the jagged hole they had made in his throat. He collapsed backwards into the snow, where the blood pumping from his throat turned the road crimson. I ran the back of my hand down the side of my face, wiping away the splashes of blood that were there. With my stomach leaping at the sight and smell of the blood, and knowing that the Lot-13 was close to running out, I closed my eyes and licked my fingers clean.
The Inspector’s blood felt hot and tasted sweet in my mouth. I swallowed hard and felt the blood warm the back of my throat. It felt more than good, but I didn’t want to come to enjoy that sensation.
I opened my eyes to see the last two remaining cops pulling their uniforms free as their bodies bristled with fur. I stared at the female officer in fascination and with morbid curiosity, as her body began to twist and stretch out of shape as she took the form of a wolf. Her fur was white and sleek, covering her long, slender body from head to toe. An elegant-looking tail snaked from her hind quarters as she leapt into the air, her jaws foaming. Was there something like that hiding deep inside of me? I feared, ripping my coat free.