Street Magic - [Black London 01] by Caitlin Kittredge

Author:Caitlin Kittredge [Kittredge, Caitlin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-01-23T07:00:00+00:00

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

edges of her vision.

"It still hungers, Inspector," Grichley said, stroking her face. "And the more you fight, the lustier it will be.

So by all means, dance. Dance the dead man's jig. Every movement you make prolongs your death."

"How will you… explain… killing… a police officer?" Pete managed. Grinchley raised one shoulder.

"It wouldn't be the first time someone in a position of authority has come sniffing at my collection. I deal with the most faithful and esteemed servants of the Black, Inspector. I am discreet."

She wasn't getting out of this with mere talk, then, and the blasted rope was so tight she could barely speak. You'll know when the time for talk is past , Connor said. You'll know it and you'd better take swift action, girl, lest you want to end life dirty and bloody and broken .

Pete drew up her knee and with the last of her air planted a kick squarely between Grinchley's legs. He moaned and doubled over, and Pete reached out and swiped what looked like a bone-handled athame from a low display. She shoved it between her flesh and the Dead Man's Snare, and the ancient strands parted, recoiling from the metal and freeing her air.

"All right, Grinchley," she said. Her voice was barely a whisper. She touched her throat and the flesh was tender and rigid with forming bruises. "Get over behind the desk."

The skin of an affable older gentleman had slipped away entirely and Grinchley staggered to the desk under her guidance. He was lumpy and ill formed, like a golem, and his eyes and teeth glittered in the low light. Pete knew this was what Grinchley's last thief must have seen, just before he ended his nightmare in the Thames.

She tucked the snare into her back pocket, and then unplugged the telephone and tossed the cord to Grinchley. "Tie your legs, and use a real knot."

"You really think you can do anything, command anything of me?" Grinchley hissed. "My magic will tear you limb from limb and then—"

"Firstly," said Pete as she pulled out the cord of a lamp and tied Grinchley's arms behind him. "If there's one thing I've learned in the past week it's that real mages don't ramble on, they just do it." She secured the knot with a tug. "If you had magic other than tawdry rope tricks, you would have used it, you silly git."

Grinchley started to spit invectives, but Pete picked up a wadded message slip from his desk and stuck it in his mouth. "Secondly, I'm leaving here with the Trifold Focus, and I am out of time to fuck about with you, Grinchley, so either tell me where you keep it or I start slicing." She raised the knife and let it catch the light of the fireplace.

After a long moment of staring into her eyes, Grinchley grunted and spat out the paper. "You're made of less breakable porcelain than it appears at first glance, Inspector."

"Lucky, lucky me. Where's the Focus?" said Pete, keeping her voice flat.

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