Black London 05 - Soul Trade

wanted to leave you,” Donovan said, “but I was foolish. I thought you had my blood, and you’d manage to grow some stones on your own. Guess I was wrong.”
    Pete felt her stomach clench, a sensation that was all too familiar to her. It felt good to have a target for her rage, though. She could gather all the pain and confusion and fear of the past few days and turn it on Donovan. She grabbed him by the arm and jerked him away from Jack. “Outside,” she snapped when he started to protest. “No more spewing your crap in front of Jack.”
    Donovan followedher out, stumbling slightly when she pulled him down the steps. “My son might be into the kinky stuff, but don’t think I won’t smack you if you get too touchy-feely.”
    “I would love to see you try that with me,” Pete told him. “I’ll tell you right now, I’m not Jack’s mum. I hit back.”
    Donovan rocked back on his heels. “Oh, calm your self-righteous little soul. I never raised my hand to Hannah.I’m not in the habit of knocking women around. Or abandoning my children, though I don’t expect you to believe me.”
    “Good, because I think that’s a load of bollocks,” Pete said. “You admitted to me your entire talent is based around lying. Got to tell you, Donovan—I’m not your biggest fan.”
    He spat an impatient sigh and then pressed his hands together, as if she were a small child who was beingwillfully obtuse. “I don’t have to explain myself, but would it help you to know I tried to take Jack with me when I had to leave Manchester and Hannah pitched such a fit I backed off? She threatened to have the council round, and then the police. And I wasn’t exactly on the straight and narrow back then. Would I have been any use to Jack in prison?”
    “Here’s a thought—you could have stayed putand fucking raised your kid,” Pete said. “But that’s hard work and I get the feeling you’re allergic.”
    “I told you, I was stupid,” Donovan said. “I was doing a lot of work back then for a gangster named Harold Combs—Hatchet Harry, to his mates—and being the pet mind-bender of a man who chopped people’s thumbs off for fun had gotten me into hot water. There were threats.”
    “Imagine that,” Petesaid. She folded her arms, but at least Donovan wasn’t trying to shine her on with his talent. He looked tired, as if the words put a weight on him with each sentence he spoke.
    “Before you come at me again with those terrier teeth, by the time I made it back to Manchester Jackie had lit out, and the next I heard, he was in shit up to his arse with the Fiach Dubh. Now, you might have the juiceto toe up against the crow brothers, but I’d learned my lesson. Jack was fine, and he didn’t need me.”
    “He wasn’t fine,” Pete said softly. She thought about the first time she’d seen Jack after he’d vanished on her when she was sixteen, thirty pounds lighter, hollow eyed, haunted. “He was killing himself as fast as he could.”
    How much of that could Donovan had prevented, if he’d just shown up?How many nights spent sleeping in doorways, how many doses of skag, how many years of a black hole inside her where Jack should be?
    “I can’t change the past,” Donovan said. “Not even the gods themselves can do that. But now we’re all in trouble, and for once I can be on my son’s side when he needs me. I’m sorry you don’t like my methods, but I’m doing what I can.”
    Pete felt the fight drain outof her. The rage swirled away like the mist around them, drifted up among the wraiths and was lost. “Don’t think I don’t know that you tried to lay the sodding mojo on me back there,” she said as a parting shot. “And don’t think this has changed my opinion of you. I think you’re a piece of shit, and I’ll be watching you every second until we get out of this horrid place.”
    “Fair enough,” Donovansaid. “You think what you like, dearie.”
    “I always do,” Pete said, and they glared at each other for a moment until she decided she’d played the hard act enough and dropped her arms down, sitting on the steps of the tomb. “So what now? You’ve been here, what’s your bright idea for getting past the zombie horde?”
    “They’re not…” Donovan started, but Pete flipped up her hand.
    “Whatever. Talk.”
    Donovan heaved a sigh and sat next to her, patting his pockets. “Got a cigarette?”
    Pete shook her head. “I’m off them since I had the baby.”
    He sighed and