The Orchard of Flesh by Christian Baines

Author:Christian Baines [Baines, Christian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Urban Fantasy, Vampires & Werewolves
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2016-06-19T22:00:00+00:00

*

I thought about lingering at Sulphur long enough to ensure a large posse of Blood Shades and Mannequins wouldn’t be seen all leaving at once. But Isobel was determined to stay at Colin’s side. In any case, we’d repaired our bridges and reached an agreement. Hardly a mark to be worn in shame.

We’d barely emerged when Colin stopped dead in his tracks, eyes darting around the surrounding street. Empty, except for the six of us. It was almost dawn, after all. The Mannequins’ faces darkened as they drew close to him.

“Colin?” I asked. “Is everything all r—”

He’d torn a gash in his arm before I could finish and flicked it toward the empty air. I heard a familiar male voice cry out in surprise, then saw the moving light reflect off a spray of blood wrapped around the invisible shape of a man.

Kelvin.

The Cloak Walker bolted up the street. He was fast, but the Mannequins, high on the vigour of Colin’s blood, were faster. I saw Bryce swipe for the open air once, then catch hold of something as he swiped again. A sickening crunch preceded his scream. The next thing I saw was the tall, powerful Mannequin cradling his face, blood seeping through his fingers. Not to be defeated, Tommy leapt on the invisible creature’s back, only to be caught in midair, flipped over and none-too-gracefully hurled against a wall, where he slumped to the ground. Peter had managed to get ahead of the fleeing intruder, and attempted to intercept the man with a leg sweep. Instead, the Mannequin screamed as a great crack ripped through the air and his leg crumpled under what I took to be the Cloak Walker’s boot.

Kelvin was a bona fide arsehole, so it wasn’t his violence that shocked me so much as his restraint. Last time I’d suffered a run-in with the Arcadia Trust’s resident spy, he’d shot Jorgas in the side, offering a sarcastic promise of nearby Shapers to “patch him up.” This time there were no guns. No weapons of any kind, from what I could tell. If Kelvin was holding back, that meant—

I skidded to a halt as I rounded the corner. Dressed in one of her crisp, white linen suits, Patricia Bakker stood beside an imposing black car. Ross stood behind her, his expression as blank as I’d ever seen. Though Colin was at my side in an instant, Patricia fixed her eyes firmly on me, paying him no mind at all.

That, I knew he would not tolerate.

“I don’t suppose you’re here to offer an apology?” he seethed as Isobel caught up to us, carrying the weight of a wounded Peter.

Patricia held out her hand. Ross gave her a black cloth bag with something large and solid inside. “You first,” she muttered, tossing the bag at Colin’s feet.

Out rolled Marrick’s head.

I jumped backward before it could roll over my feet. How the hell had he survived a fight with Jorgas? Not that it mattered now. I supposed this was one way to get the kid out from under Grey’s spell.

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