Part 9 (1/2)
The girl snorted. ”Oh, and that's a smart quest. Take my advice. Go back to wherever you been hiding. Your friend is dead. Or worse.”
He grabbed her arm and spun her around. ”I've not been hiding. I've been fighting. Case you missed it, most of the Cursers in that bar were dead long before you got there. And my friend is one of my team and near impossible to kill.”
”Team?” She lowered her voice and asked him excitedly, ”Are you resistance?”
”Yeah. Hunters.”
Her eyes widened for a moment. ”Ain't no Hunters around here.”
”I told you. Haven't been here in years.”
He couldn't read her expression. She looked as if she might hit him, except that a smile was playing along her lips. ”Well, it's about b.l.o.o.d.y time a Hunter showed up. Where were you a year ago when we needed you most?”
”Still in training,” he said. It was the truth, but it didn't take the sting out of her words. He had been wrong to stay after graduation. He should have gone straight home to Northern Ireland like he'd planned instead of staying to be part of a bleedin' team.
And if I had, I'd be dead too, he realized with absolute clarity. Yet somehow that didn't make the guilt he was feeling any less. Ireland's sons and daughters had been bleeding, dying for her, and he should have been one of them.
She c.o.c.ked her head at him. ”Hail Mary. Sort of a strange battle cry.”
”It worked, didn't it?”
She shrugged.
”I'm Jamie,” he said, offering his hand.
”Kate,” she replied, shaking with him.
She was the nearest thing to an ally he had here.
”Kate, maybe you have some friends who might be able to help me figure out where my friend is.”
She let go of his hand as she shook her head. ”I don't have time to deal with your missing persons. I got Cursed Ones to kill.” She turned to go.
”Maybe you've heard something on the streets?” he persisted. ”She's a witch. She was kidnapped by another witch.”
That got her attention. Turning back around, she planted her hands suspiciously on her hips. ”What's a good Catholic boy doing hanging out with that lot?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
”What's a fine Irish la.s.s doing ridding London of vampires instead of the mother country?” he countered. ”Why you protecting the English?”
”The enemy of my enemy,” she said, ”is my friend.”
He nodded. ”I'll give you that. Now, can you help me?”
”I've heard rumors . . . but it's probably nothing,” she said after a moment.
”Tell me anyway.”
He lowered his head, and she said under her breath, ”People are whispering that witches have returned to Stonehenge.”
His stomach did a flip. Could it be a lead? ”Stonehenge. Why?”
She hesitated. ”Because it's a place of power.”
Jamie could tell there was something else. ”And?” he prompted.
She looked away. ”They say they're stockpiling something, some sort of magic herb that enhances their abilities.”
He thought of Father Juan and the promised elixir. ”What's it called?”
”I don't know. I'm not a bleedin' witch,” she snapped at him.
They walked a few more steps in silence. He glanced down at her crossbows.
”So, where are you headed now?” he asked.
”Another pub half a mile from here. Busy day.” She looked at him speculatively. ”I could use some help.”
There it was again. Help a girl from his own people kill Cursed Ones, all he'd ever wanted to do, or go runnin' off on a fool's mission to find someone else's missing fighting partner. He felt the knife twist in his soul.
”You okay?” she asked.
”The whole world's a f.e.c.kin' disaster and you ask if I'm okay?” he said, fighting back the urge to laugh or cry. Maybe both.
”The ability to care for other people, that's what separates us from them,” she retorted, but her voice was gentle. ”It's all we've got left.”
Cursers couldn't care. He thought about Antonio. The Curser cared for Jenn, and he knew that wasn't a falsehood on the b.l.o.o.d.y vampire's part. How did he do that?
Jamie shook his head. ”I have to find my friend.”
She was clearly disappointed. ”Well, good luck to you, then.”
”I'm sorry, Kate.” The words were little more than a whisper.
She raised her chin, all brave. ”I'm sure she's . . . important.”
The knife twisted deeper. Jamie knew that they needed to part company then, because if they kept walking, they'd make it to the other pub and then he'd help her. And if they survived it, he'd help her with the next and the next.
And Skye would be lost.
And Skye would die alone.
If she hasn't already.