Turned: An Uncanny Kingdom Urban Fantasy (Branded Book 2) by David Bussell & M.V. Stott

Author:David Bussell & M.V. Stott [Bussell, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Genre Reader
Published: 2018-02-21T22:00:00+00:00

19

I didn’t need the angels to tell me where to head next.

‘What do you want?’ asked Carlo, his scarecrow frame blocking the doorway to his flat.

‘Just a tiny, teensy little favour,’ I said, pinching a millimetre of air.

‘Forget it. You’re not getting anything, not after you stiffed me last time you were here.’

‘But I come bearing gifts,’ I chirped, holding up a cup with a straw sticking from its lid.

‘You brought me a McDonald’s strawberry milkshake?’

‘Oh no, I drank that.’

‘So… you brought me an empty McDonald’s strawberry milkshake?’

‘Not exactly.’ I smiled and popped the lid.

Carlo’s eyes widened. ‘Is that what I think it is?’

‘Yup.’

Carlo snatched the cup from me and scurried back into his grungy little squat like Gollum with the One Ring.

I followed him inside. ‘Sorry, that was the best blood container I could find. There might be a bit of milkshake mixed in with it, but don’t worry, you can have that for free.’

He sucked on the straw in a way that was almost pornographic, slurping up the last of the concoction and looking back at me with shiny, doped up eyes. ‘Man, I needed that. I’m telling you, it is not easy making do with regular blood.’

‘Really?’ I asked, oddly proud. ‘My blood’s that good, is it?’

‘Like flying First Class to Hawaii. Trouble is, now the regular stuff’s like boarding the plane home and having the stewardess point you to Economy.’ He slumped into a ruptured bean bag, making it burp up some more of its insides.

‘Well, I’m glad you like it anyway,’ I said, too afraid of catching something to sit down. God, it really was an awful shithole of a place. ‘I know it’s none of my business, Carlo, but you really shouldn’t be living like this.’

‘What’s the matter? Worried I won’t get my security deposit back?’

I laughed, but it was bittersweet. This man of rags and bones, this human dog-end, sat amongst his rubbish and his old records, waiting on a fix. And who was I but his scheming dealer, exploiting his addiction for my personal gain?

‘Where’s Gendith?’ he asked, sparking up a cigarette.

‘Busy.’

‘Hmm.’ He ran a hand through the ratty tangles of his hair. ‘Not sure I’m happy dealing with the Nightstalker one-on-one. Doesn’t feel safe exactly. No offence.’

‘Safe from me? Come on, there’s nothing to worry about. Not if you tell me what I need to know.’

‘See, that right there sounds a lot like a threat.’

‘It isn’t, I promise. So long as you talk.’

Carlo sighed and sunk deeper into his bean bag, too high to give a shit. ‘Go on then, what are you after?’

‘Information. Where do the Clan keep it?’

‘Depends. What kind of info d’you need?’

‘The Top Secret kind. The kind you keep on a secure server, somewhere very, very safe.’

‘Ah, gotcha. That would be The Crypt.’

I wasn’t expecting him to be quite so forthcoming, but I wasn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth either. ‘I see. What’s that then?’

‘An underground facility where the Clan keep their most classified data. If what you’re looking for is anywhere, that’ll be the place.

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