Pure Blood_ A Nocturne City Novel - Caitlin Kittredge [106]
Seamus arced along Cannery, over the Waterfront district where I’d first met Dmitri, and then went across the salt flats toward the Siren Bay Bridge.
“Get everything we have to the bridge, now!” I told Mac, and threw the phone aside. I gunned the Fairlane up to sixty miles an hour, the fastest anyone had ever gone during morning rush hour in Nocturne City, I was sure, and took the bridge ramp on two tires.
Seamus and I met at the apex, between Nocturne City and the peninsula, above a stretch of angry gray water whipped to rolling breakers by the storm.
I fishtailed the Fairlane and blocked the westbound lane, jerking the emergency brake to stop, and jumping out. Seamus was standing perfectly still, looking toward the city over the waist-high railing that protected the occasional intrepid pedestrian from the two-hundred-foot plunge to the water below.
The bridge was creaking, the steel cables suspending the span almost whipping as the wind whined between them, creating a ghostly wail.
“Do you see it?” Seamus asked me. “A whole city wiped clean, to be created in Mathias’s image.”
“Don’t you mean your image?” I asked, approaching cautiously.
“Of course,” he agreed. “And we’ll start by improving my view.” He stretched out his hand like he was trying to rearrange the cargo ships lined up along the port docks, then yanked it back in frustration. “No! Why do his teachings elude me? I’ll have to consult those fucking runes again!” He smiled wryly. “And just when you think you have it all figured out, eh, Detective?”
I silently held up the Skull of Mathias, which I’d retrieved in the mad dash to my car. “But we never really do.”
“Give me that!” Seamus demanded, clenching his fist.
“Why?” I taunted. “You’re all, ‘I’m a god among men’ and everything, so I figured you didn’t need little old Mathias anymore.”
“You have no idea what you’re meddling in,” Seamus said, quietly this time. I was way more afraid of his calm tones than his shouting.
“Give me the Skull,” he said again, and I saw the same blue power manifest around his fist. The first jolt had been before he’d gotten juiced up by the Skull. This one would definitely kill me.
At the base of the bridge I saw flickering blue and red lights as a line of parole cars sped toward us, but there was no time. I had no way to hold Seamus off, since my good looks and charm had obviously failed.
The smell of salt tickled my nostrils, and I looked down at the water. I’d sink it to the bottom of Siren Bay.
“Give it to me or you die!” Seamus howled. I backed up to the bridge rail, grabbing a cable and stepping up, balancing on the narrow metal bar. I stretched out my free hand and let the Skull dance above the wind-racked water.
“Take it from me,” I told Seamus. I didn’t shout. I didn’t threaten. Standing there with the storm tearing at me, I knew what needed to be done to finish this whole sorry mess.
Thrill seeker. Adrenaline junkie. Everything in flames.
I held the Skull close to me. Then I let go of the cable, and didn’t try to catch myself as I fell.
You’d think two hundred feet straight down would give you plenty of time for your life to flash before your eyes, but all I saw was a blue-gray blur and all I heard was the scream of air ripping past my ears as I gathered velocity.
Then I jolted, as if the hand of an avenging angel had decided that no, I wasn’t going to get away that easily.
But it was only Seamus, floating, holding me by my free arm, his face twisted beyond any expression a human is capable of. “Give me the Skull,” he snarled. “Or I let you drop.”
“You really think that worries me now?” I said, breathless at my ability to spit invectives even on the threshold of my own death “I’ll take it from you and tear you apart, you piece of trash!” Seamus said, reaching for the Skull. I twisted my arm and locked my hand onto his neck, the primitive fight-or-flight instinct clawing for a last moment of life.
Seamus choked, but not because I was attempting to strangle him in midair. I felt the same pain,