He grinned, showing crooked but definitely human teeth, and swivelled back towards the dogs. The Irish wolfhound had the smaller, fluffy dog by the scruff, dragging her back towards the fountain. Werewolf Guy raised his arm. Determined bastard! I threw myself at him and slapped my palm, with its Power Nap patch, against his in a parody of a high five. Purple sparked as the spell activated. His eyes met mine, triumph gleaming in their vivid green for a second, before they rolled up inside his head and he crumpled. Shit. I’d got him— But not before he’d thrown his own spell.

Stomach churning, knowing I was too late, I jerked round to see a coin glinting gold as it spun through the air.

Straight at its target. The dogs.

In a blur of vamp-related speed, the Irish wolfhound grabbed the elkhound by the scruff and flung the smaller dog out of danger. She yelped as she landed in the middle of the fountain, disappearing in a cascade of displaced water. Then in almost in the same motion, the Irish wolfhound launched up, mouth open, and caught the gold coin. He dropped to all four paws with an audible thud, and froze, head hanging unnaturally still.

Mad Max and I stared at each other, less than ten feet apart.

Waiting . . .

I didn’t like him. He was a twisted selfish vamp who had no compunction about using anything or anyone in whatever way it suited his purpose, and he certainly didn’t worry about who might or might not end up hurt. And I definitely didn’t trust him. For the exact same reasons. But despite the fact he’d tried, on more than one occasion, to use my friends as ‘hostages’ to force me to give him my blood (Mad Max wasn’t the sort to even think of straight-out asking), he’d done it for the sake of Freya’s mother, Ana, and for Freya herself. Which even now didn’t make me feel overly charitable towards him, nor did the fact that he was sort of family. Nonetheless, I still found myself wanting the spell to not do whatever it was supposed to do, to him.

Which currently looked like . . .

Nothing.

He spat the coin out.

It hit the pavement with a tinkling sound, rolled in a wobbly semi-circle then fell on its side.

I looked. Whatever magic it had, it was gone.

The Irish wolfhound sunk to his haunches, pink tongue lolling in a manic doggy grin, diamond-encrusted dog-tags catching the sun. Well, that was a bleedin’ anticlimax, wasn’t it, Cousin?Mad Max said in my head. Thought things might get a tad more exciting than that.

Fury, along with a rush of relief, swept over me. I shot a quick glance at Werewolf Guy – still clutching his roses, but now snoring away – then snagged the coin, strode over and grabbed the Irish wolfhound by his throat.

‘If whatever fucking idiot scheme this is,’ I ground out, ‘hurts even one hair on Freya’s head, I’ll remove your balls with a blunt blade and wear them as earrings as I scatter your ashes on the Thames.’

Promises, promises, Cousin,he drawled. If I didn’t know you better, I’d almost believe you meant it.

I squeezed harder, almost choking him. ‘Believe it! Now what’s going on?’

Oh, stop getting your knickers in a twist, love, this one’s nothing to do with me.The dog licked his nose, nonchalantly. ‘It’s down to you and your friend, the Turk.

‘Malik? What’s the hell’s he—’

A sharp bark cut me off, and I found myself sprayed with water. I released Mad Max, swiped at my eyes, and glared down at a soaking wet Freya as she finished off her shake. ‘You need to go back home, pup.’ I pointed at the fountain. ‘Where it’s safe.’

She shoved her wet doggy self between me and the Irish wolfhound, and curled her lips in a snarl.

I tapped her on the nose. ‘Don’t you take that attitude with me, pup. You know he’s not supposed to be visiting you, so he’s in the wrong here, never mind he’s your granddad—’

‘Genny!’

I turned my head to see Mary, her hand pressed to her side as if she had a stitch, staring down at Werewolf Guy in dismay. He was twitching as if he were a statue the pixies had tried to animate. I grimaced. It looked like the Power Nap patch, or something, was disagreeing with him.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

I pointed at Freya. ‘Get her back home,’ I ordered in a low voice to Mad Max. ‘Make sure she stays there, and later, you and I are going to have a long chat.’

Freya barked an obvious, ‘No!’

‘Yes!’ I told her.

She growled— and Mad Max snatched her up by her scruff, threw her in the fountain again then trotted calmly after her.

A round of applause from the crowd reminded me we had an audience. Damn. Next thing the paps will turn up, and I’ll be on the front pages again.At least the heritage wardens were keeping the rubberneckers out of the way.

I jogged over to Mary as she lifted her radio. ‘I need a HOPE ambulance. Code six three one – unidentified magical casualty. Trafalgar Square. How long?’ It crackled unintelligibly. ‘’K, I’ll hang on.’ She pointed at the twitching werewolf. ‘What did you do to him?’

‘All I did was tag him with Dessa’s spell,’ I said. ‘He was fine a minute ago. Better tell the medics he’s a werewolf.’

‘Unidentified is clearer. That way they won’t make mistakes. Why’s he holding the roses?’

‘Camouflage?’

‘I meant,’ she said pointedly, ‘why is he still clutching them? He’s unconscious. He should’ve dropped them, shouldn’t he?’

‘Maybe. Or maybe it’s something to do with the spell’s side-effects.’ I bent to check him out.

Mary grabbed me. ‘Leave him,’ she ordered. ‘Standard ops with un-ID’d spells. No touching the victim, and he needs to be in a circle. Here’ – she handed me a lump of green spell chalk from her pocket – ‘draw one. About eight feet across. At least he’s on stone, it’ll make it easier.’

I started drawing a circle, crabwalking around the still twitching werewolf.

‘Cripes,’ she muttered, which was Mary’s answer to swearing with a precocious nine-year-old daughter. ‘I should never have let Dessa give you that spell. It’s got aconite in it. If he really is a werewolf, it could kill him.’

Aconite? Oh, yeah, wolfsbane. I scowled. ‘He’s not a good guy, Mary.’

She shot Werewolf Guy a frown. ‘We don’t know that, Genny.’

I snorted. ‘He was throwing spells at my niece! And he helped kidnap three people. Good guys don’t do that.’

‘What spell?’

‘This!’ I stopped drawing and showed her the gold coin. It glinted in the sunlight.

She peered at it. ‘There’s no spell.’

‘Not now. Mad Max sort of ate it.’ I glanced at where he was sitting next to the fountain like he was auditioning for Guard Dog of the Year, and getting not a few admiring looks from the crowd. There was no sign of Freya, so hopefully she was tucked up safe at home, in Between.

‘Max looks fine,’ Mary said. ‘Maybe you were mistak—’

Werewolf Guy howled in pain, his twitches turning to jerks, and blood started leaking from his nostrils, mouth and ears. A horrified buzz came from the crowd, and I caught more of the inevitable camera flashes. Blood always brings out the ghouls. Werewolf Guy let out another howl, his spine arched, veins standing out like black cords in his neck. An answering screech came from above. The hawk, trained to scare the square’s pigeons. Werewolf Guy convulsed as if invisible hands were trying to tear him apart.

‘Finish the circle,’ Mary shouted. ‘Quick before he shifts.’

I dragged the green chalk over the flagstones, only a foot to go . . . Time seemed to slow . . . Werewolf Guy’s eyes snapped open. He flung his arm out. They flew from his hand, scattering in a shower of red petals. The petals landed on the grey slabs, like the pools of blood staining the snow in Malik’s memories. Werewolf Guy smiled at me with victory in his eyes. Above me the sound of wings buffeted the air. Gut clenching, I looked up. The hawk hovered, a dark shadow against the clear summer sky. It opened its beak wide, screeching again as it vomited a stream of green magic. The magic twisted and twirled, morphing into a verdant jade serpent, fang-filled jaws hinging wide, as it arrowed straight for me. I raised my hand, focused, and calledthe magic snake, aiming to snatch it from the air—