‘So why now?’
‘Because I’m going to wish for knowledge. If I phrase it properly, it won’t screw things up.’
‘Tegs,’ Speck said seriously, ‘if you wish to know who wants you dead, you might end up with a long list of people. It’ll drive you insane.’
Brochan nodded in agreement. ‘Any time anyone’s thought they’d like to kill you might count. You’ll never trust anyone again.’
I tilted my head. ‘Are you three saying that you’ve thought in the past that you wanted to kill me?’
Lexie wouldn’t quite meet my eyes. ‘Not seriously.’
‘Yeah,’ Speck added, ‘not like we’d actually kill you. Just more the fleeting thought that we’d like to rip your head off and flay your skin.’
‘I thought you liked me!’
Brochan tutted. ‘We do like you. We love you. But sometimes…’
‘Sometimes what?’
Speck shifted his weight. ‘Those jokes are really annoying.’ He looked relieved to have said it.
‘Yeah,’ Lexie bobbed her head. ‘They’re so cheesy.’
‘And you tell them all the time,’ Brochan added.
I looked at him. ‘You too? You feel this way?’
He shrugged. ‘The thought might have crossed my mind once or twice. It’s not any different to the way I’ve wanted to kill Lexie for singing all the time.’
She glared at him.
‘I can’t believe this,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘You could have mentioned before that you didn’t like my jokes.’
‘Would you have stopped telling them?’ Speck asked hopefully.
I frowned. ‘Don’t be silly. I’d have told more so that you could get a wider range of them. What do you call it when you tell a joke in the shower?’
Speck stared at Brochan. ‘Please make her stop.’
‘A clean joke!’
Lexie groaned. ‘That’s the worst one I’ve heard in a long time.’
‘Oh yeah?’ I said, putting my hands on my hips. ‘Well, expect a lot more from now on, darling.’
Bob coughed. ‘Helloooo? I’m still here, you know.’
I turned round. ‘Bob,’ I began.
‘Tegs, don’t.’
I held up my finger. ‘I’ve got this.’
Bob smacked his palms together in glee. ‘Yes, Uh Integrity? I think I’m going to cream my pants in anticipation.’
Speck winced. ‘Don’t. Just … don’t.’
‘I wish…’ Brochan interrupted with three loud successive sneezes. Speck and Lexie jumped nervously but I stayed on track. ‘I wish to know who’s responsible for trying to kill me with the stoor worm and the fireballs.’ I smiled to myself. As wishes went, that was pretty much perfect. I’d kept things as simple and specific as possible.
Bob beamed. He snapped his fingers. ‘Uh Integrity, your wish is granted.’
There was a strange buzzing in the air. My muscles felt tight and tingly, then it was like I was being pulled. Pulled very painfully. Oh shite. ‘No!’ I yelled as I realised what was happening. ‘I want to know! Not see! Bob!’
He shook his head sadly, ‘Sorry Uh Integrity. The wishes do what the wishes want to do.’
I braced myself. As cool as teleportation was, this could be very, very bad. With one final sharp tug on every molecule in my body, my vision went blurry. My stomach lurched and, for a brief second, I was convinced I was going to throw up. Blinking hard to keep as much control of my senses as possible, I clenched my fists. At least I’d know what it felt like to be teleported before I ended up in a bodybag, I thought dully.
When my eyes focused and I saw the stunned face of the Bull staring at me, I groaned. I might have known.
‘You … you…’ he stammered. ‘Your gift is teleportation?’
I squashed down my terror and smiled nastily. It was time to lie for my life. ‘One of them. I have several. I am Clan Adair, after all.’
The Bull swallowed. All I could think was ‘oh shite’.
Chapter Seventeen
It took the Bull less time to recover from my sudden appearance than I anticipated. He flung back his head and roared. It was a deafening sound. If his intention was to scare me, it worked. When his eyes fell on a point beyond my shoulder, however, I realised he’d done it for a different reason. Behind me was a door. He was calling for back up.
Assuming that he had Clan members close by, I wasted no time. To the right there was an oak table. It wasn’t huge but it might buy me some time. I grabbed the edge of it and tipped it so it fell heavily against the door. For good measure, I also gave the lock a hefty kick, splintering it to help jam it. It was a move Taylor had me practise for weeks on end until I’d got it right – goodness knows how many doors we’d gone through. He’d insisted that it was important in case I ever found myself cornered during a heist and needed some breathing space to work out an escape route. At the time, I’d stubbornly declared that I’d never approach a job without having numerous escape routes and I’d never be stupid enough to let myself get cornered. Now I was seriously grateful for that training.