and spent weekends cycling around the city to challenge myself. Had my father known what a monster his comments would unleash, he probably would have been happy to sit there for hours to listen to my blow-by-blow account of algebra and fractions. I bored my friends to tears by forcing them to test me. I wouldn’t say I ever got to the point where I knew thirty-five thousand streets, or where I’d even have come close to passing, but I did learn a hell of a lot.
My study of the Knowledge was cut short abruptly about six months later when I discovered that Dean, the most annoying boy at my school, had hair that curled invitingly around the sexy nape of his neck and a voice that made my toes curl up inside my trainers. Boys, I decided, were infinitely more interesting than the streets of London and I ended my quest almost as suddenly as I’d begun it. A lot of what I’d learned in that time never left me, though. At least now I know exactly where Markmore Close is without having to worry about maps or GPS. I’ll never know boys – or rather men, now that I’m older – as easily as that.
***
Even driving carefully to avoid any undue attention, it takes less than forty minutes to get to the safe house. The sky, which was already darkening by the time I reached my grandfather’s, is now definitely advertising that it’s night. It feels like it’s been the longest day of my life and it’s far from over yet.
I’m fortunate enough to pull up and park directly outside the block of flats. I’m even more fortunate that there’s a tiny lift inside, so I hook O’Shea’s dead weight of an arm round my neck and hoist him up by the waist. A fireman’s lift would be easier but any curious residents might think he’s spent the afternoon in the pub and had one too many if I haul him up this way instead. It’s a struggle and seems to take forever, but finally I find the key exactly where I was told it would be and get him inside.
It’s a small place; property is at a premium in this part of the city so I’m not surprised. At least it’s clean and well kept. I flop O’Shea’s body down on the small bed which was probably advertised as a double – but only if you are sharing with a midget. It’ll do, I suppose. I can crash on the sofa when I need to sleep.
I turn to leave when I suddenly think of something. The last thing I need is the daemon waking up and doing a runner. He’s the best lead – the only lead – I’ve got right now and I’m not letting him slip through my fingers. I turn back, grab hold of the cuffs which are still dangling from his wrist and clip them onto the frame of the bed. It’s not particularly sturdy but I figure he’ll still be weak from blood loss when he wakes up and the cuffs will hold him. Then I head back down and move the car a few blocks away. Better safe than sorry.
By the time I get back to the flat, I am buzzing with nervous energy. It’s probably just as well because I won’t be able to sleep. I’m pretty sure that whenever I close my eyes from now on, I’ll see flashbacks of dark smoky figures and splatters of blood.
I sit down on the sofa and stare at the wall. Then my head drops and I’m out for the count.
Chapter Six: Martinis and Mistakes
I wake up with a start. A shaft of moonlight falls on my face and, for a moment, I’m completely disorientated, trying to work out where the hell I am. Then it all comes flooding back and I’m overwhelmed by all that has happened over the last twenty-four hours. The walls feel as if they’re closing in on me and I can’t breathe. I gulp in air and my heart thumps painfully against my ribcage. I lurch to my feet and half run to the small bathroom to splash cold water on my face, then I lean against the sink and stare at myself in the mirror until my heart rate slows down.
‘Pull yourself together,’ I mutter.
Padding into the bedroom, I check on O’Shea. He’s in exactly the same
My study of the Knowledge was cut short abruptly about six months later when I discovered that Dean, the most annoying boy at my school, had hair that curled invitingly around the sexy nape of his neck and a voice that made my toes curl up inside my trainers. Boys, I decided, were infinitely more interesting than the streets of London and I ended my quest almost as suddenly as I’d begun it. A lot of what I’d learned in that time never left me, though. At least now I know exactly where Markmore Close is without having to worry about maps or GPS. I’ll never know boys – or rather men, now that I’m older – as easily as that.
***
Even driving carefully to avoid any undue attention, it takes less than forty minutes to get to the safe house. The sky, which was already darkening by the time I reached my grandfather’s, is now definitely advertising that it’s night. It feels like it’s been the longest day of my life and it’s far from over yet.
I’m fortunate enough to pull up and park directly outside the block of flats. I’m even more fortunate that there’s a tiny lift inside, so I hook O’Shea’s dead weight of an arm round my neck and hoist him up by the waist. A fireman’s lift would be easier but any curious residents might think he’s spent the afternoon in the pub and had one too many if I haul him up this way instead. It’s a struggle and seems to take forever, but finally I find the key exactly where I was told it would be and get him inside.
It’s a small place; property is at a premium in this part of the city so I’m not surprised. At least it’s clean and well kept. I flop O’Shea’s body down on the small bed which was probably advertised as a double – but only if you are sharing with a midget. It’ll do, I suppose. I can crash on the sofa when I need to sleep.
I turn to leave when I suddenly think of something. The last thing I need is the daemon waking up and doing a runner. He’s the best lead – the only lead – I’ve got right now and I’m not letting him slip through my fingers. I turn back, grab hold of the cuffs which are still dangling from his wrist and clip them onto the frame of the bed. It’s not particularly sturdy but I figure he’ll still be weak from blood loss when he wakes up and the cuffs will hold him. Then I head back down and move the car a few blocks away. Better safe than sorry.
By the time I get back to the flat, I am buzzing with nervous energy. It’s probably just as well because I won’t be able to sleep. I’m pretty sure that whenever I close my eyes from now on, I’ll see flashbacks of dark smoky figures and splatters of blood.
I sit down on the sofa and stare at the wall. Then my head drops and I’m out for the count.
Chapter Six: Martinis and Mistakes
I wake up with a start. A shaft of moonlight falls on my face and, for a moment, I’m completely disorientated, trying to work out where the hell I am. Then it all comes flooding back and I’m overwhelmed by all that has happened over the last twenty-four hours. The walls feel as if they’re closing in on me and I can’t breathe. I gulp in air and my heart thumps painfully against my ribcage. I lurch to my feet and half run to the small bathroom to splash cold water on my face, then I lean against the sink and stare at myself in the mirror until my heart rate slows down.
‘Pull yourself together,’ I mutter.
Padding into the bedroom, I check on O’Shea. He’s in exactly the same
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