Page 73 of Licence To Howl
‘If you’re just tuning in,’ the news anchor intoned, ‘we are getting several reports that both the French and British governments have agreed to meet the terrorists’ demands. A spokesperson stated that it was a highly unusual step but that it was warranted under the circumstances and that they were confident they could recover the money and locate the terrorists within days if not hours.’
Bullshit. Devereau knew a blatant lie when he heard one. He reached down for his whiskey glass and threw it with all his might at the far wall. It shattered instantly, shards of glass flying across the small room.
The bartender didn’t blink. ‘Feel better now?’ he inquired.
Devereau’s shoulders slumped. No. Not in the slightest.
* * *
He awokein his own bed the next morning with a headache throbbing behind his eyes and a nasty taste in his mouth. Devereau groaned and flipped over onto his back, just as a sharp knock came at his bedroom door.
‘I make breakfast,’ Dr Yara called. ‘Eggs and bacon. Will do you good.’
His stomach rolled. He doubted it. ‘Thank you,’ he called back anyway. Where Dr Yara was concerned, it was far better to give in to the inevitable rather than attempting to argue.
Shrugging on a dressing gown, he padded downstairs. ‘You don’t have to cook for me,’ he told her. It was an old argument.
‘I know.’ She waved at him, her eyes indicating that she wouldn’t brook any kind of disagreement. ‘Now eat.’
‘I thinking while you are away,’ she told him. ‘I like to set up clinic. I know I am not allowed to be doctor here but maybe if I work only for supes it is okay. Supes will be happy to have doctor and government will not care because I do not treat humans.’
He reached for a slice of toast. ‘That’s a really good idea.’
She beamed at him. ‘You think?’
‘I do.’ The vampires and the clans had their own medical teams but the smaller supe groups find it much harder to get treatment. Not to mention that such a thing would be much better for Dr Yara than cooking him breakfast. ‘Let’s sit down together later and discuss how it could work. I’ll do whatever I can to help you set it up.’
She widened her eyes. ‘Oh no. You too busy. I can do it myself.’
‘I’m not busy,’ he told her. He sighed. ‘Not any more.’
‘Is full moon again soon,’ she reminded him.
How could he forget? ‘Yeah.’ Life went on. He should be pleased.
From the other room, the landline began to ring. Devereau began to get to his feet but Dr Yara glared at him. ‘You stay. You eat. I answer phone.’
He gave her a mock salute and picked up his knife and fork. Then it occurred to him that maybe it was Scarlett calling and he quickly placed them down on the table again and sprang up.
‘Is for you!’ Dr Yara called through.
He all but sprinted to the living room. ‘Hello?’ he said into the receiver.
‘Good morning, Mr Webb.’
Devereau’s heart sank. ‘Greensmith. I didn’t think I’d hear from you again.’
‘You probably won’t after today,’ she told him. ‘I’m not supposed to be calling you now but everyone else is busy and not paying attention to what I’m doing. And I still have some friends who are on my side.
He tensed. ‘What?’ he asked. ‘What is it?’
‘I have some new information that I thought you’d want to hear before it ends up on the national news.’
He tensed. ‘Go on.’
‘After an anonymous phone call, the remains of Stefan Avanopoulos, along with several others, were discovered early this morning in a farmhouse not far from London. It appears they died as a result of some kind of unfortunate accident.’
Devereau remained perfectly still. ‘What do you mean?’
