Bound by Alan Baxter

those things and none of them. We are Kin. We’re the monsters under the bed, the bogeyman in the closet, the fear in the dark.’
    ‘Humans?’
    She reached out for his cheek again. ‘You’re human, Alex. I’m not. At least, not entirely. That’s what makes me Kin. My people don’t generally mix with yours. If you see us, you don’t live long enough to talk about it. That’s where the vampire and werewolf legends come from. And all the others. Some of my people got into the idea and started to live out the human perception. They like that, get a thrill out of it. Sometimes they settle into that way of being for decades, even centuries. Sometimes they bore quickly. But we’re all Kin. You’re human. But I’m a bit different. I’ve always had a soft spot for people.’
    Alex shook his head, trying to keep up. ‘So you like to butter the cow up before you eat it?’
    She grabbed his chin, tipped his face up, planted a kiss on his lips. It was hot and passionate, arousing him instantly. ‘I don’t tend to eat the people I befriend.’ She sat back with a wink.
    ‘So why have you befriended me?’
    ‘I’m weird like that.’
    He laughed in spite of his confusion. If he ignored the fact that she was not entirely human, and that she fed on humans, she was actually pretty cool. He laughed harder at the ridiculous chain of thought.
    She grinned at him. ‘You’re a bit weird too, aren’t you? Maybe that’s why we’re getting along.’
    Alex’s laughter faded as reality swung back in front of him. ‘I need help,’ he said, casting his eyes down at the floor.
    ‘I know. And I don’t think I can really give you the help you need, but I can be there while you try.’
    And there it was again. The only reason he wasn’t completely alone in all this. He knew he looked past the mind-bending revelations of what she actually might be primarily because of that. And because she was smoking hot. More than anything he needed someone to cling onto while the world fell apart around him. ‘I need to try to destroy this stone and this book,’ he said quietly.
    ‘I think the stone is fairly safe. It’s a tool. And a powerful one at that. I don’t think you should give it up so easily. The book is another matter.’
    His eyes searched hers. ‘You think I should destroy the book?’
    ‘I think you should try. But I don’t think you’ll be able to.’
    ‘And then what?’
    She shrugged. ‘The offer still stands to talk to my Clan Lord. If you earn the right to speak to him, if you survive, he might be able to help you.’
    Alex swallowed the last of his whisky. He picked up his wallet, leaving the few remaining coins on the bar, and stood. ‘Let’s go.’
    ‘Where?’
    ‘First we’ll get a cab to Welby’s for my stuff. And maybe some of his.’
    A man and a woman, sharp corporate dress and expensive shoes, stood looking down at the corpse of Peacock. Blood dried in a sticky patch around his head, congealed on his cheeks like a frozen flood of dark scarlet tears, smeared by something.
    The man clasped his hands together, steepled index fingers gently tapping his lips. The fluorescent light from above reflected off his pale, completely bald head. ‘Well, Ms Sparks,’ he said eventually. ‘It would appear that our friend Mr Peacock really upset someone this time.’
    The woman smiled, long blonde hair half covering a coldly attractive, severe face. ‘Indeed, Mr Hood. You have to admire the handiwork.’
    Hood nodded, looking up at the doorway to the shopfront, the wooden frame splintered with bullet holes. ‘Whoever did this avoided extremely close-range gunfire and didn’t waste any time completing their objective.’ Peacock’s gun lay in his slack palm. Hood tapped it with his toe. ‘Either our miserable little bookseller was truly useless with this, or his assailant was very fast.’
    ‘Maybe a bit of both,’ Sparks said thoughtfully. ‘Not to mention avoiding the various protective wards.’ She