Secret Histories 10 - Dr. DOA by Simon R. Green

Author:Simon R. Green
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-06-07T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Good Living, and Bad

There are times when having an awful lot of guns pointed at you can be a good thing. When you’ve been having a really bad day, for example, and you are definitely feeling the need to take it out on somebody. I took one look at the dozens of heavily armed and armoured guards training their guns on me and on Roxie, smiled nastily, and armoured up. Shocked gasps sounded from all sides, along with a pleasing number of involuntary noises suggesting awe, dismay, and stark terror. Reliable indications that a Drood was in the room. Roxie surrounded herself with a screen of fiercely spitting magics, and some of the guards actually started to back away. Others were already quickly lowering their weapons, while trying very hard to look like the whole thing had been some terrible misunderstanding. I turned to Django Westphalion, grabbed him by the throat with one golden hand, and lifted him off his feet.

“Why did you warn them we were coming?”

“I had to!” He clawed at my golden wrist with both hands, but couldn’t break my hold. “I had to give them advance warning so they could lower the security shields to let us in!”

I hate it when they start being reasonable. I reluctantly let go of him, and he fell on his arse on the stone floor, breathing hard. One of the few good things about Immortals is that you never need to feel bad about assaulting them. Because you can always be sure they’ve done something to deserve it. Django scrambled backwards across the floor, glaring at me venomously.

“You forget, I’m a shape-changer! I can turn into a monster and tear you apart!”

“Really?” I said politely. “A monster? Like what, precisely? What have you ever been, or even seen, that you think could take a Drood in his armour? You don’t even have a weapon on you, do you?”

He scowled sullenly. “The Survivors won’t let you in if you’re carrying any kind of weapon. They agreed to make an exception for your armour only because they’re so keen to get their hands on a Drood.”

“Well,” I said. “That doesn’t sound at all ominous.”

“Stand still!” shouted one of the guards. “I am in command here, and I order you to put your hands in the air and lower your armour!”

I turned to look back at the guards. I’d actually forgotten about them, for a moment.

“Does that even sound like something I’d do?” I said. “Get rid of the one thing that’s protecting me from your guns? Which, I can’t help noticing, some of you are still pointing at me. Never a good idea with a Drood. We take such things personally. Now, be a sensible chap and order all of your men to lower their weapons. And then nobody needs to get hurt, damaged, or horribly maimed.”

“Right,” said Roxie, grinning broadly. “What he said.”

Most of the guards were clustering together in little groups now, in the mistaken belief there was safety in numbers.

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