‘And that makes you what?’ I inquired. ‘One of the Three Musketeers? You don’t seem the swashbuckling type.’
Tony wagged a finger at me. ‘Wait and see.’ He swung a shabby coat round his shoulders. ‘Come on. It’s time we headed out.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘To do our jobs, D’Artagnan. The public expect their taxes to be put to good use and I’d hate to disappoint them.’ He grinned at me. ‘Hop to it.’
Anything was better than staying within these depressing walls. I grabbed my suit jacket, shrugged it on and headed out of the door. ‘Don’t we get crossbows with silver-tipped arrows to carry with us when we’re out and about?’
Tony snorted. ‘If you think I’m letting the likes of you anywhere near a deadly weapon like that, you’re more naïve than I thought. Besides, those things haven’t been used for years. We don’t need them. I don’t even know where they’re kept any more.’
I looked him over. He certainly wasn’t carrying any sort of weapon. So much for that perk, then.
‘The vamps won’t start stirring until around teatime,’ he told me while we walked, ‘so we’ll start with the werewolves. Consider this Supernatural 101.’ He patted his stomach. ‘Plus, I’m getting a little peckish and there’s a great sandwich shop next to the Sullivans’ lair.’
‘The Sullivans are one of the werewolf clans?’
He nodded. ‘Currently aligned with the McGuigans. Or at least they were the last time I checked. With the wolves, anything is possible. They’re mercurial bastards.’
I took a notepad from my coat pocket. ‘How do you spell McGuigan?’ I asked, wanting to get it right.
Tony stopped in his tracks. ‘Are you taking notes?’
‘I don’t want to miss any details.’
He rolled his eyes and strode off again. ‘It’s not rocket science, D’Artagnan,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘Put that away before you embarrass us both.’
Tempted to refuse, I glared at his departing back. But scribbling notes while walking wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, so in the end I gave in to the path of least resistance and tucked it away.
‘Look, just relax,’ he said, with surprising kindness as I caught up with him. ‘I know you want to do well, and you want a glowing report so you can show off to Detective Superintendent Barnes and get the posting of your dreams after you qualify. Don’t worry about it. This is the easiest gig in the world. I’ll write whatever the hell you want when these two weeks are up. Whatever shit you pulled to end up here, I can tell that you’re not a bad sort. It’ll be fine. One for all, and all for one.’
I wasn’t sure if he was expecting me to thank him or not. ‘I actually do want to learn something while I’m here,’ I said. ‘I don’t want this to be a time-wasting exercise.’
‘Hence our little side trip. You’ll learn lots.’ Tony smirked. ‘Trust me.’
We crossed the street, before turning right and heading down a wide road. This was a famous part of the city; even though I’d never been here before, I recognised quite a few of the buildings and landmarks. We reached Swain Street and the gigantic arch that stretched from one side to the other. It was fashioned out of various sections of sculpted wood, forming a large wolf’s head at the apex. I couldn’t stop myself from gasping.
Tony sent me a sidelong look. ‘Impressive, huh?’
I nodded. ‘I’ve seen photos of it, but it’s so much bigger than I thought it would be.’ I stretched out my fingertips, brushing them against the warm wood.
‘Most people think that it’s purely decorative, or to entice in tourists.’ He gestured at a group of chattering sightseers who’d paused in front of the arch for selfies. ‘But the truth is far more complex. Although there are several different types of wood forming the arch, at its heart is a large section of hawthorn. Legend has it that hawthorn is a vampire repellent. I don’t know whether that’s true or not, but you’ll certainly never see any vamps walking around here. Not at any time of night or day.’
‘They can come in daytime?’
‘Sure. They just don’t choose to do it much. Think of the vamps as students – partying all night, sleeping all day.’
‘And the wolves?’
Tony pursed his lips. ‘They’re dogs. They mark their territory and are food obsessed.’ He paused and his voice dropped slightly, as if he were afraid that he’d be overheard. ‘Don’t underestimate them, though. Any of them. No matter what anyone would have you believe, both groups are still predators. They’re at the top of the food chain. They keep us at bay through some nifty lawyer tricks, but if they wanted to rule this city they could do it in a heartbeat.’
We passed under the arch and into the werewolves’ quarter. I suppressed the shudder that ran down my spine and considered what Tony had said. ‘So,’ I said finally, ‘Supernatural Squad is essentially window dressing?’
Tony nodded approvingly. ‘Pretty much. Our presence appeases those humans who are intelligent enough to be scared of the supes, but we don’t have any power. Any supes who step out of line are dealt with by their own kind. We direct lost tourists, stride around and maintain some sort of visibility and very, very occasionally convene meetings to ensure that peace is being maintained.’ He sent me an arch look. ‘You can see why most detectives don’t stick around for long. It’s not exactly a thrill a minute.’
‘Why do you stay?’ I asked, genuinely curious.
He smiled. ‘I like a cushy, hassle-free life and a guaranteed pay check at the end of the month.’
I watched him. There was something about his tone of voice – something about Tony himself – that made me think there was far more to his existence in Supernatural Squad than he was letting on. Working out what that was would give me something to do over the next two weeks.
Before I could press him any further, a hulking figure stepped out in front of us, appearing as if from nowhere. ‘Anthony Brown,’ he growled. Definitely a werewolf then. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Just taking a stroll,’ Tony said cheerfully. ‘Upholding the law and keeping the peace. Usual sort of stuff.’
Curiosity getting the better of me, I gazed at the werewolf. He looked human for most of the part – until you examined him more closely. His thick dark hair curled in a way that seemed unnatural, and his chest and shoulders were far too broad for his short legs. One thing was certain: I wouldn’t want to meet him on a dark moonlit night.
‘Who’s she?’
‘This is D’Artagnan,’ Tony said. ‘She’s visiting for a couple of weeks.’
‘Actually,’ I said, ‘my name is…’ Tony elbowed me sharply in the ribs, and I gave a surprised oomph.
The werewolf looked amused. ‘Giving her the grand tour, are you? You should bring her round to the club later. She’s a tasty-looking little thing.’
I resisted the temptation to step back. The sudden hungry glint in the wolf’s eyes was remarkably intimidating.
‘What do you think, darling?’ he asked. ‘Do you fancy a bit of fur?’ His skin twisted and undulated across his cheekbones. I couldn’t stop myself gasping. A second later, muddy brown fur sprang up across his face. There were even whiskers.
Tony tapped his foot. ‘Yes, yes. It’s an impressive party trick. You should save it for the tourists.’
‘Twenty quid for a photo.’ The wolf opened his mouth, baring his sharp teeth. Then he lunged, snapping his jaws as if he were attacking.
I blinked – but I remained where I was. ‘No, thank you,’ I said primly.
The wolf’s fur melted away, his expression suddenly disinterested. ‘You can’t say I didn’t try.’ He glanced at Tony. ‘Full moon in five days,’ he said.
‘I’m quaking in my boots.’
The werewolf returned to the shadows at the side of the pavement, and Tony and I continued on our way. I hadn’t realised I’d been holding my breath until we were well past him. I expelled the air in a loud rush and felt a brief ache in my lungs.
‘Was that your first face-to-face encounter with a wolf?’ Tony asked.
I nodded.
‘Then you did alright,’ he said grudgingly. ‘Marsh back there is all huff and bluster. He puts on a show and makes sure no humans veer into forbidden territory, but he’s not a bad sort. He’s one of the Sullivans. He shouldn’t be out here doing this sort of low-level grunt work, but last week he got into a fight with a wolf from the Carr Clan so now he’s doing his penance.’ Tony’s mouth flattened into a thin line, ‘As I said, the supes sort out their problems in-house.’
‘Why did you stop me from telling him my real name?’
‘Because our job is to fit into the supes’ way of doing things. Not the other way around. And the supes’ way is that you don’t tell an outsider your real name unless you absolutely trust them. They believe that names have power. Fluff-headed nonsense, if you ask me, but when in Rome…’
‘He knew your real name.’
A trace of a smile crossed Tony’s mouth. ‘Yeah. But I’m a foolish old man who’s been here too long. I gave my name freely in the hope that it would encourage the supe community to trust me. Needless to say, it didn’t work.’
I frowned but, before I could say anything, he jerked his head towards the small shop opposite us. Sullivan Sandwiches. ‘Here we go. The best roast beef you’ll get this side of the Thames.’
The bell jangled as Tony pushed open the door, and the rich smell of well-cooked beef wafted towards us. A young woman smiled at us from behind the counter. I stared. She had very sharp teeth.
‘Cassidy, baby! How are you this fine morning?’ Tony cried.