The private function room smelled of stale beer and even staler academics. Dacre paced up and down the faded patterned carpet with an expression I both recognised and feared: that of a cornered animal who might lash out at any minute.
Even though there were three of us and one of him, I was afraid. Because even though I’d let the cold murderer in my soul loose, and even though I’d have no qualms over hurting him, I still didn’t have a clue how to fight. How to physically overpower someone twice my size, twice my strength.
What if he attacked Lottie? How would I protect her?
My fingers closed tighter around the smooth handle of my knife. We had one thing going for us, and that was the element of surprise. He hadn’t come to this Chamber meeting expecting a confrontation, and so he likely was not armed.
Not armed, I thought bitterly.His entire body is a weapon.
As he paced, his eyes kept flitting up to me, and something in his skittish expression told me we were bang on the money. He knew how dangerous I was, which meant he’d been watching me. He’d been watching the Society.
But he didn’t know how much we knew – after all, the floppy was password-protected. All he knew was that we were suspicious enough to steal it in the first place. He still had plausible deniability.
With her usual bravado, Lottie took control of the situation. ‘You have something we want. And we have something you want.’
Dacre sneered. ‘Oh yes? And what would that be?’ His tone was shooting for condescending but landed somewhere closer to panic.
Hafsah stepped forward, gripping the back of the nearest chair so hard her knuckles turned bone-white. ‘Ten years ago, you tore some pages out of a book outlining a soul purification ritual. We need those pages. We’ll give you your highly incriminating floppy disk back in return.’ A beat. ‘Obstruction of justice is a crime, FYI.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Dacre replied haughtily, but faint spots of pink had appeared on his cheeks.
Lottie grinned. ‘Yes, you do. Because you wouldn’t be in this room with us otherwise.’ She wiggled the disk in his direction, and the deliberate taunting set me on edge. She was waving a red flag at a bull. A bull who had alotto lose if this situation didn’t turn out the way he hoped.
He took the bait.
He lunged straight at Lottie, so fast none of us had time to react, and grabbed her by the throat, slamming her against the peeling wallpaper. She dropped the floppy in shock, eyes bulging, mouth opening soundlessly.
She could not breathe.
‘Listen here, you littlerat,’ he hissed at Lottie, face contorted in a gargoyle snarl. ‘If you don’t keep your nose out of –’
Then with a sudden howl, he yanked his hand away from her neck as though he’d been burned.
Lottie raised a hand to her throat and gasped.
The black choker had been torn away, and the rubies beneath seared red hot and ember-like.
His hands were already blistering, the skin bubbling and melting. He stared down at them and moaned a low, terrible moan.
In Dacre’s split second of recovery, I leaped towards his back and stabbed him as hard as I could in the shoulder.
Pleasure rolled through me like thunder.
He roared like a monster, and swivelled to face me, his expression towering with rage.
With a guttural growl, I tried to stab him again, but he held my wrists back with minimal effort.
Just like Chris had.
Only this time, I was not alone.
Hafsah picked up the chair she was gripping and swung it hard at his head. He dropped my wrists and fell backwards to the ground, beast-like eyes glaring up at me with the hatred of a thousand scorned gods. But he was dazed, if only for a few precious moments.
Now or never.
Kill him kill him kill him, said the coldest part of my soul, and I had to fight the urge with everything I had left. If I killed Dacre, we’d never get the pages back – and I’d spend the rest of my life in prison, in the solitary purgatory Mordue was so afraid of.
And yet the veil was torn, and the psychopath roamed free, and I no longer had the energy to resist.