Otherworld Renegade. Jane Godman

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СКАЧАТЬ he was here? The faces of those around her remained blank.

      A sailor staggered close. “You can call me Lorcan Malone, querida. Before, during and after.” The eye-watering alcohol fumes on his breath caused Tanzi to take a step back. He followed, reaching out a hand to grip her arm. When she shrugged him off, he lost his balance and staggered, cursing. Tanzi didn’t dare hit him. One blow and she’d break his neck. She couldn’t risk drawing that sort of attention to herself. Unfortunately.

      There were too many people around her, and anywhere in this city was too close to La Casa Oscura. Her father’s spies were everywhere. Walk away, head down. Find somewhere quiet to come up with a better plan. Whatever you do, don’t draw any more attention to yourself. All good advice. Putting it into practice wasn’t going to be easy. The heels were not designed for a swift getaway. Note to self...if you find yourself in this situation again, raid Vashti’s street-inspired wardrobe before leaving.

      As Tanzi left the quayside—acutely aware of the small group of men following in her wake—the sheer magnitude of her error became instantly apparent. Barcelona wasn’t just a big city. It was enormous. Crowds thronged the pavement and traffic was bumper to bumper in the street. Noise, life, color and smell all assailed her senses at once, stunning her into immobility. Buildings spread out around her, stretching high onto the hillsides as far as the eye could see. A laugh rose in her throat and met a gurgle of panic coming the other way. Her sheltered lifestyle hadn’t prepared her for this. In the past, each time she left her father’s palace, she had been surrounded by sidhe bodyguards. They had shielded her from harm and, she now appreciated, had hidden reality from her view, while she completed her assignments. Then they had escorted her back to safety. The substance of life in the mortal realm had never once been allowed to intrude into her carefully ordered existence. But had she really been naive enough to believe that she could step out of La Casa Oscura, simply speak Lorcan’s name and that the first person she came across would know whom she meant?

      “I truly did,” she murmured to herself, using the sound of her own voice to calm her nerves.

      The crowds flowed around her, but most seemed to be heading toward a wide, tree-lined street. She allowed herself to be drawn along with them. When she reached the mosaic-tiled thoroughfare, she paused. Leaning against a low wall, she gave herself a few minutes to assimilate her surroundings. Thankfully, there was no sign of her pursuers. Nearby, a youth was propelling himself across the street on a board on wheels. When he noticed Tanzi watching him, he performed a series of tricks for her benefit, finishing by flipping the board up into his hand, catching it and coming to join her. His smile was infectious and, in spite of her plight, she returned it.

      He held the board out to her in invitation. Tanzi indicated her clothing and he laughed. “Yeah, right. Not really dressed for skateboarding.”

      “How many people live here?”

      Her abrupt question made him blink and he shrugged. “In Barcelona? One and a half million, maybe? Probably more.”

      And she was looking for one man. The sad truth was that she had no idea if Lorcan was in this city at all. Even if he was in the country. Or this world. He had told her he was a wanderer. That meant he could be anywhere and that he was constantly on the move.

      Her attention was drawn back to her companion. He was regarding her with undisguised admiration. “You have the most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen. I don’t suppose you’re looking for someone to show you around?”

      She shook her head, softening the gesture with another smile. “Do you know Lorcan Malone?”

      “No. Is he your boyfriend?”

      “I need him.” Tanzi looked along the bustling boulevard. Darkness was falling now and lights from the bars and coffee shops spilled out onto the mosaic tiles. Street artists played several competing musical styles and a flamenco troupe nearby danced an intricate routine. Mortals. They were a mysterious lot.

      The youth picked up his skateboard. “Then he’s a lucky guy. Be careful, senorita. Stay on the Ramblas, some of the side streets can be dangerous at night.” He waved a hand before speeding off into the crowds.

      Dangerous? In Tanzi’s experience, limited though it was, mortals were troublesome rather than hazardous. There were certainly a lot of them crowded onto this one street, but that didn’t make them a threat. Sighing, she picked up her bag. The heels were definitely her biggest mistake. She would ditch the shoes, find Lorcan... Tanzi halted her stride abruptly, much to the vocal annoyance of a girl on a bike just behind her. A frown furrowed Tanzi’s brow. What then? After she found Lorcan, what would happen next? It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered other than the fact that she was free. Even if she didn’t find the necromancer tonight, there was no way she was going back to Otherworld to face the fate her father had in store for her.

      “Lost, querida?” One of the street entertainers called across to her. His blue-black hair was spiked so high that he resembled a cockatoo and he was dressed as a toreador. His partner was a bull.

      “I need Lorcan Malone.”

      “Lorcan?” The toreador abandoned his bullfighting routine and came over to her. She didn’t like the way his narrowed eyes wandered over her body as though he was assessing her, but she did like his next words. “I know him.”

      Relief flooded through Tanzi’s veins. “Can you take me to him?”

      “Cierto!” Although his Spanish was heavily accented, Tanzi thought she recognized the same Irish intonation that lilted through Lorcan’s voice. It reassured her. “You’re in luck. Follow me.”

      He walked quickly, dodging in and out of the crowds, and it was a struggle to keep pace with him in heels and on the uneven surface of the tiles. Tanzi was so comforted at the thought that he was taking her to Lorcan that she’d have walked across hot coals. With only the occasional glance over his shoulder to check that she was following, the man led her into a side street and then down a narrow alley. There were no lights here and the walls rose uncomfortably high on each side, closing in on her.

      “Are you taking me to the safe house?” Tanzi called out, but the man ahead of her didn’t answer. The skateboarder’s warning came back to her and she glanced over her shoulder just in time to see a flash of movement. Something struck the side of her head. She felt a crushing pain and the slippery cobbles came up to meet her as she fell to her knees. Greedy hands grabbed at her bag.

      Tanzi tried to fight back. To her horror, there was no strength in her limbs and her head swam alarmingly. The bag was wrenched from her grasp. She managed to get into a sitting position with her back against the wall and was able to kick out at her assailant’s groin. A grunt of pain greeted this action. She knew a moment’s satisfaction before a fist connected with her face. Seconds later a heavy boot thudded into her ribs.

      “Stop wasting time.” Through the haze of pain, she recognized the toreador’s voice.

      “The bitch kicked me in the balls. She’ll pay for that.”

      “The clothes are expensive. Get them and the shoes and get out of here. She knows Lorcan Malone. That renegade bastard will take no prisoners if he hears about this.”

      * * *

      The resistance sidhes hauled the fishing boat ashore onto the beach. Dawn was stirring the Catalan skies above Barcelona, and Lorcan heaved a sigh of relief. He didn’t have a home, but this city was as close as it got. After more than thirty hours of being thrown about in a tiny boat on the open sea, he was looking forward to СКАЧАТЬ