Page 23 of Dark Medicine

The bartender looked up at Flip, the smile disappearing from his face. There was evident fear and concern filling his features.

“They’re trouble, lad, even for a big boy like you,” he said softly. “I’m askin’ that you nae wreck my bar.”

“I promise,” said Flip, laying down three one-hundred-pound notes. “But I can’t promise they’ll be cooperative.” He winked at the older man and stood, walking to the table where George and Roman still whispered.

“He’ll kill us if we don’t deliver the girl,” said George. “I think we need to just pick up and leave while we can.”

“That’s why yer a fecking eedjit,” said Roman. “He’d find us in no time, and besides, the money is too good to turn away from.”

A dark shadow covered the table, and Roman turned, his face covered in bruises. He craned his neck backwards, staring up at the cause of the darkness.

“Stand up,” said Flip quietly.

“Feck off, you gorilla,” said Roman, sneering up at Flip.

Flip looked at Roman and then George. George stood quietly as his shaking hand started to move toward his jacket, his back to the wall. Flip could see the fear in his eyes as he spotted Kane behind him. His hand suddenly stopped, and he let his arm fall. Roman stared at the young man with anger in his eyes.

“Ya fecking coward!” he yelled. George glared at the older man and then back at Kane.

“I… I don’t want any trouble,” he said tentatively.

“Is that so?” said Kane, stepping forward. “Is that why you tried to take my friend? Is that why you allowed that sick old fucker to spread his disease to those young girls? What kind of man does that make you?”

“I… I…” George fumbled for words but had none. This wasn’t his life. It was Roman’s, and Roman was his only friend. He had nowhere to turn, nowhere to go.

Flip looked down at Roman, still seated, and grabbed his throat, lifting him off the ground. His feet kicked out, but Flip easily deflected the blows. The man’s foot connected with the table next to him, its contents spilling on the floor.

“Now, son, I asked that ye not ruin me pub,” said the bartender.

“No worries, sir,” said Flip, “we’re going outside. Aren’t we, boys?”

Flip carried Roman by the throat all the way out to the parking lot, where he tossed him to the ground, gasping for breath. Roman rolled over, a knife in his hand, and Flip kicked his wrist hard, hearing the cracking of his bones. The man screamed and crawled backwards, landing right at the feet of Adam.

“Well, hello there, old friend,” said Adam with a murderous grin.

“What the feck!” said Roman. “Call for help, Georgie!”

“Yes,” said Adam calmly, “call for help, Georgie, go ahead.”

George reached for his phone tentatively but frowned at the black screen. He dropped the device and shook his head. There was dark magic with these men. They were too big to be of the Fae, but maybe they were trolls?

“It’s… it’s dead,” he said to Roman.

“And so are you,” said Adam. “Unless you can answer some questions for me.” Roman sat stock still, his legs tucked beneath him as he cradled his wrist.

“I’ve nothing to say to you,” he said, stubbornly staring at the parking lot.

“Let’s try this again,” said Flip. He never moved from his spot but easily lifted the vehicle that Roman was leaning against off the ground, holding it above his head. The man grew wide-eyed, terror filling his face as Flip slowly brought the car back down, nudging against his body. Roman groaned, and George crossed himself, crying.

The older man shook his head, his wrist still clutched against his body. What sort of witchcraft did this man possess? The boss would want to know about him.

“Now, I’m losing patience,” said Flip. “Why did you try to take my friend? Who wants her?”

“I’ll tell you,” said George, “please, don’t hurt me.”

“You coward!” yelled Roman, standing on weak legs. Flip turned for just a moment to see George’s frightened face, and in that split second, Roman took off behind the pub.

“I’ve got him,” said Spook, racing after the man.

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