Savage Wings: Book Three of The Whitechapel Chronicles

Chapter 27

Climbing the broken wall, where the bricks had formed into steps of sorts, he sat beside me, looking out at the city and intermittently examining his fingernails to ensure no dirt lurked there. A vampire's work was always pretty gruesome, but I was constantly amazed at how Fenton always managed to look so immaculately neat and clean.

"Clayton said you relieved him of day watch." His voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the wariness in his tone, as if he was preparing himself for another battle.

I shrugged. "I figured he needed a break."

"You need a break. You haven't slept since...."

The tension returned, spiking across my shoulder blades, as I cut him off. "I'm fine," I said tersely.

"Listen, you might be able to...you know...." He waggled his fingers on the air, alluding to whatever abilities I possessed, as if I could somehow shoot them from my hands like lasers. "But you're not all powerful. You still need to sleep or you'll burn out."

"Ironic choice of phrase," I remarked dryly.

Dropping his hands into his lap, he studied my face; that damned intrusive stare searching for something in my expression.

"Look," he said and I could feel a Fenton lecture coming on. His penchant for a stern scolding was almost as predictable as his penchant for irritating the crap out of me. "I still don't really know what the fuck happened in there the other night and I hope that at some point you'll tell me and sooner rather than later so I know what we're dealing with, but I do know you've looked as scared as hell since I found you. You're distant and you're jittery and you're making everyone else feel jittery too, because they can sense something is going on with you. So do me a favour and sort it out, okay? Besides, it's fucking freezing out here and I don't particularly want to keep coming and finding you."

"Then don't bother. I'd hate for you to get frostbite in all the wrong places."

He grinned, shaking his head. "Well personally, I'd rather leave you to freeze, but I have my orders."

"Don't tell me: Harper?" I couldn't help but smile back when he rolled his eyes in exasperation. "How is the patient?" I asked.

"Well, put it this way," he said, raising a perfectly arched brow. "He complained that the clothes I gave to him didn't fit and then told me to get my scrawny arse outside to look for you before he gouged out my throat with a rusty spoon."

"Oh," I remarked. "Much better then."

I took one final look out at the city, marvelling at how beautiful it looked from afar, how perfect it seemed from up here, a crystalline oasis sparkling with such effervescent life.

"I guess I should go and check on him. I'd hate to see him open you up like dessert."

******

"You took your time," Harper said, irritation wrinkling his brow. "Did the puppy get lost along the way?" He sniffed. "Doesn't surprise me, the fact he can tie his own bootlaces still astounds me, I was clearly expecting too much that he might be able to follow a simple instruction."

I leant against the door frame of the headmaster's office, where Harper sat, his legs sprawled out on a mess of blankets on the floor. My gaze briefly touched on the bruises and cuts visible on his forearms, neck and head, my heart sinking with the knowledge of how each one must have been inflicted. Every one made me cringe but it wasn't any of those wounds that made my stomach twists into knots or make me want to wrench my eyes away. It wasn't any of those marks that had made me avoid him as much as I possibly could since we'd returned.