Page 38 of Strange Familiars
“The dragon!” It occurs to me that I’m more pissed off about the dragon than about the fact Harrisford forcibly sedated me.
“It was the only way to get you here quickly enough to save you!” he thunders.
I cross my arms, my eyes narrowing to slits. “It’s big of you to talk about saving me, Briggs…when you’re the one that almost got me murdered.”
And for the first time since I woke up, Harrisford’s self-satisfied mask slips. “Murdered? Did my father…Did he try tokillyou?”
I shudder, suddenly cold. Placing a hand on Percy, I elaborate. “He had a gun. He threatened me. He”—I touch my forehead, where I can almost still feel the cold kiss of steel—“held a gun to my head.”
Harrisford is suddenly on his feet. He strides to the bedside, eyes wild, both hands buried in his hair. “Oh god. Oh god, Chan. I’m so sorry, I—”
“Lied to me?” I finish his sentence off for him, my voice acidic. “Told me he was out of town? Got me trapped in a locked room with your violent, gun-toting father?”
He stops and stares at me, his mouth open. “I swear,” he says, and his tone is almost pleading. “I swear I didn’t know he was in London. He told me he’d be in Wales, for fuck’s sake, and I believed him.” Harrisford shakes his head and curls his hands into fists. “If I’d known he might be there, I wouldneverhave taken the risk…” He turns away, bracing both hands on the desk.
I stare at his back, at his bowed head, trying to work out if I believe him. I can’t believe him, I shouldn’t—I ought to not trust this man who has been my rival for so many years…And yet. He brought me here, didn’t he? After the explosion, he somehow managed to get me back to Seamere, back to my bed…And not only that, he’s still here.
And anyway, wasn’t it my idea to break into Magecorp? It was me who insisted on it, who assured him it would be safe for me to impersonate Hani Nguyen.
It was my fault things went so badly.
I don’t want to ask, but I have to. “Your dad…Is he dead?” My voice is small; it catches in my throat. The stark reality is starting to hit:I blew up the top floor of Magecorp.
A pause. Harrisford won’t look at me. “He’s alive.”
I blow out a relieved breath. Yes, Darghan Briggs is a scumbag, and he threatened me with a gun…But the idea of actually killing someone—even if it was accidental—sickens me.
Harrisford drops back into the seat of my chair and scrubs at his face with both hands. Neither of us speaks for several moments. Percy starts purring, the vibrations reverberating through my body. “Thanks, Percy,” I whisper, and scratch him under the chin. There’s an unsubstantiated theory that cats purr to heal their bodies fromwithin, and I wonder if by sitting on my chest he’s trying to help me heal, too. Either way, having his warm fluffiness on top of meismaking me feel better—even if it’s purely psychosomatic.
Eventually, Harrisford breaks the silence. “What happened in there, anyway?”
I quickly recount everything that happened up to and including the explosion. As I talk, Harrisford’s hands grip the armrests of my desk chair, holding on so tight I fear the brittle old plastic might crack.
“How did you know the door would cause an explosion,” he asks, “when you flung the wire at it?”
I draw the bedsheets around Percy and me both, enveloping us in the draping warmth. This is the first time Percy’s sat on me—ever—and I really don’t want him to leave.
“Well,” I say slowly, trying to order my thoughts. “I knew the air would be ionized, because of the huge reservoir of magic they keep in the circular room. And I knew that the door was still live-wired from the initial shock. So I figured that if I managed to ground the current from the door to the floor, it’d create a magical explosion.”
“Fucking brilliant,” Harrisford says, more to himself than anything. Then he glances at me sidelong. “I have to say, Chan, you secretly being an evil mastermind is…frankly rather frightening.”
I stare at him. “You say that like it’s a good thing.”
“Well,” he says, one corner of his mouth lifting. “Maybe it is.”
I rip my gaze away, my cheeks heating, and pick at a stray piece of lint on the sheets. “Yeah, well, that’s the last thing I remember. The explosion.” My brow creases as I try to untangle the sequence of events further. “If you brought me here on a dragon, how did your dad get out?”
Harrisford’s gaze drifts away from me and fixes on the opposite wall. “The ambulance helicopters were just arriving as we were flyingoff. They took him to the London General Magical Hospital. But…he’s apparently in a coma.”
My eyes linger on Harrisford’s profile, silhouetted against the light from my lamp. I’m trying to work out why he’s frowning. Is it because he loves Mr.Briggs and is mad at me for endangering his dad’s life? Or is it because he actually hates his father and wishes that the blast had killed him proper?
“I—I’m sorry, Briggs.”
He waves a dismissive hand at me. “Don’t be. We both know that he would’ve killed you.”
A shudder tears through me, and I clutch at the sheets. Percy’s claws dig in again. The memory of Darghan Briggs’s attack is still all too fresh in my mind—and my body. It’s like any mention of it triggers a visceral reaction deep in my organs and flesh.
Which is why, when Harrisford tentatively broaches the subject, I don’t feel up to elaborating. “Exactly what did he say to you?” Harrisford says. He seems to be holding his breath.
