Metal Angels--Part One by D K Girl

Author:D K Girl
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Danielle K Girl

CHAPTER TWELVE

BLAKE WATCHED the recording for a third time. The Wheel and Barrow was long closed. The last patron had staggered out just after midnight. A half hour after he’d locked the door Perry was nearly done with clean up. He wiped down the bar, one, two, three swipes with a chequered cloth whose colour was hidden from her in the black-and-white footage. He pulled a tray of steaming glasses from a dishwasher at one end of the bar, leaning his face over the rising heat and eyes fluttering closed. Something caused him to jerk upright, eyes wide open.

‘Hello?’ he called, moving out from behind the bar and heading into the main area which was empty. He’d sent the waitress home before the bar had even closed. Perry had been alone in the bar for some time, so far as the footage showed. ‘Hello? If there is someone in here, then you need to get the hell out.’

But his confused expression belied his authoritative voice. He could hear someone but clearly couldn’t see them. Perry twisted towards a loud crash at his right, then just as swiftly had to swing the other way when a mirroring sound occurred out of sight of the camera to his left.

Blake had played the recording over and over. Each movement was seared into her memory. The footage had been filmed five hours after Perry had delivered Azrael and Kira to the airport, and it was disturbing viewing.

‘Shit.’ She bit into her knuckle, eyes darting between the live feed on the left-hand screen and the recorded footage on the right which was frozen on the image of Perry lying on the floor, motionless. Blood warmed her lips as her teeth pierced thin skin. ‘Come on, get up. Get up, Perry.’

The man had lain still for almost fifteen minutes now, after suffering what she was desperate to convince herself was a seizure.

The door to the basement swung open, and Blake’s heart slammed into her ribcage. Rossiter raced down the short flight of stairs, his heavy body thunderous against the wooden slats. ‘What’s wrong? Are you all right?’

‘I would prefer that you announced yourself before making your way into my basement.’

The bald-headed man paused at the base of the stairs, his face dark with irritation. ‘And I would prefer that you do not summon me urgently without giving any indication of your status.’

‘You can see I’m fine. The issue is not with me.’

Her status was nauseated. Her fingers were twitching as though the nerves had taken a life of their own. Her pulse thudded at her temples. She was thirsty, parched. Her body was demanding more of the Waters. It was three thirty in the morning. Apart from the solitary hour of sleep she’d woken from a short time ago, she’d been awake for approximately thirty-six hours. An unreasonable length of time, even by her standards, but Tamas and Captain Nex had been relentless in ensuring all testing on the four carapaces was complete before they removed—tore— them from her care.

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