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Mortal Kiss: Fool's Silver *Глава 13*

för 161 månader sedan


Once the text arrived from Liz, Finn took the wheel again. It finally seemed as if they were getting somewhere – ahead, on the distant horizon, a line of mountains had risen out of the flat desert; they were growing closer by the minute. Their convoy was heading for one with a jagged peak, following Liz’s directions towards Silver Cross.

 

Finn was worried about Faye – they were all tired, but she looked exhausted. He wanted her to sleep as much as possible, but hours later, after they’d already changed places twice, she was still wide awake.

 

‘I can’t sleep,’ she told him. ‘There’s too much to think about. If those men are from a mine – if that’s where they’re taking Arbequina and the rest – what do they want with them?’

 

Finn didn’t have an answer to that. He had no idea, but he wasn’t happy about taking the rest of his pack deep into silver country. None of them had reported feeling ill yet, but who knew what would happen once they reached the end of the road? If their last encounter with the stranger was anything to go by, they would need all their strength – what if they were unable to fight?

 

‘What was it like?’ Faye asked suddenly. ‘You know – when you were close to those strange men? You looked as if you were coming down with flu, or a cold, or something.’

 

Finn nodded. ‘That’s pretty much exactly what it was like. I got the shivers – hot and cold, as if I was running a fever. And a sharp flash of pain in my head here . . .’ He indicated his temple. ‘It affected my sight too. It was blurred – I kept having to blink. And I felt weak, as if all the energy had drained out of my body.’

 

‘Finn,’ Faye began, ‘we really should talk about Lucas. In his room, when you walked in . . . you had the same reaction then, didn’t you?’

 

Finn thought back to that moment. It was like trying to remember something elusive – something that hadn’t really happened. ‘Yeah,’ he admitted at last. ‘I think you’re right. It wasn’t as bad, though.’

 

‘I think those men had been in that room,’ Faye said. ‘The reason you didn’t feel as bad was because they weren’t actually there at the same time. But they had been there, so they’d left . . . I don’t know . . . a trace?’

 

Finn shook his head. ‘I don’t know, Faye. I still can’t see what Lucas has to do with this. Can you?’ He glanced over to see her staring out of the window, looking worried.

 

‘No,’ she said eventually. ‘But just because we can’t see a connection doesn’t mean there isn’t one. What if this is about Mercy?’

 

‘Mercy? How could it be? She’s buried in the underworld, stuck there for ever.’

 

Faye frowned. ‘Maybe it’s not directly about her . . . but she was a supernatural, and Lucas is her son. Right? Maybe there’s something about him we don’t know. Something that these people do.’ She sighed, slumping down in her seat. ‘It’s just another unanswered question though, isn’t it? Like where those bugs came from, and who sent them.’

 

Finn shuddered. ‘I’m hoping they were just a natural phenomenon. And that we’ll never see them again!’

 

Faye shut her eyes. ‘I don’t think they were,’ she said. ‘Even if they weren’t deliberately sent to hunt us, I think they were there to clear everyone out of the area. That’s why the motel was abandoned, and that’s why we haven’t passed a single car on this road.’

 

Finn looked at the horizon, empty apart from the motorcycles strung out ahead and behind them. ‘I don’t think many people pass this way anyway,’ he told her. ‘There’s nothing out here but dust, heat and rocks.’

 

‘But what if there is?’ Faye asked, and he could hear her voice growing fainter as sleep finally took over. ‘They might not know we’re coming yet. But when they do . . .’

 

Finn watched as her head rocked sideways against the seat’s cushion. He wished there was some way he could make her more comfortable. Instead, he reached over with one hand and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.

 

‘Sweet dreams, Faye McCarron,’ he said softly.

 

 

Faye was surrounded by mist. It rose up from the ground in wisps, cold and clammy, wrapping around her legs like silk. It was dark. She took a step forward, felt a branch brush against her face and realized that she was in a forest.

This is a dream, Faye thought. The same dream. Always the same dream . . .


She knew what would be behind her. She could already sense its paws, thudding softly on the invisible ground. Faye looked over her shoulder, but the mist had risen, hiding the wolf from view. She began to run, the forest becoming solid around her as her feet struck the soil. She held her arms up, pushing branches out of the way, running, running, running . . .

 

Maybe I should just stop, she thought. What’s the point of running? It’s going to chase me in my dreams for ever, until I’m so tired I fall, and then it will catch me anyway. Maybe I should give up. Maybe I should just stand still . . .


Faye stumbled, and then, almost without deciding to, drew to a halt. She could still hear the thump of the wolf’s paws on the mossy ground. She breathed in, the cold mist rising to touch her face like icy fingers.

 

She turned, the way you do in dreams, as if she were on a cloud, floating. The trees came nearer now, the branches pushing in as the mist grew even thicker.

 

And then, suddenly, there it was. The great white wolf. Somehow, though, as it drew closer and closer, Faye no longer felt any fear. It thundered towards her, its blue eyes piercing in the gloom. But instead of knocking her to the ground, it stopped. Its paws sank into the soft earth, its breath mingling with the mist. It did not bare its teeth.

 

They stayed like that for a moment, Faye and the wolf, staring at each other.

 

What do you want? Faye thought, but did not say out loud.

 

Listen, she heard. Listen.

 

She stepped forward and knelt in front of the wolf so that their faces were level. She looked into the animal’s blue, blue eyes. They seemed to be looking straight back.

 

Listen, she heard again.

 

Faye placed her hands on either side of the wolf’s head, her fingers sinking into the soft, thick fur. She wanted to listen. She did. But she didn’t know what she was listening for.

 

And then, slowly, something began to grow in the corner of her mind. An idea, a thought . . . a realization . . . It was there, just there, like a word on the tip of her tongue or a memory lost for a long time . . .

 

Someone shouted in her ear – a blast of noise that almost knocked her to the ground. It was Finn’s voice, but he wasn’t here – it was just Faye and the wolf – just—

 

‘Argh!’

 

This time Faye opened her eyes, heart thudding as she woke. The sunlight almost blinded her. Finn shouted again, yanking the steering wheel round hard. The tyres screeched as he swerved. Faye struggled to cling onto her seat as she was thrown sideways.

 

There was a cry, but this time it wasn’t Finn. Faye screamed as a face loomed through the window beside her. A face that was wasted and bony, with black, dead eyes sunk into their sockets. The creature looked a little like the men who had attacked the bikers – only more skeletal somehow, as if its body had rotted away even though the thing inside it was still living.

 

Faye screamed again and flinched away against Finn, until her brain realized that the window was shut. The creature scrabbled against it, black mouth stretching open in another unholy screech.

 

‘What is it?’

 

‘I don’t know, but they’re everywhere,’ Finn yelled back. ‘They attacked out of nowhere as we got closer to the town! They must have been waiting, somewhere out in the desert.’

 

Faye turned to look over her shoulder. The Black Dogs were all struggling with at least one attacker, their bikes swerving dangerously all over the road.

 

It was an ambush.

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