Free Dark Tomorrow (Bo Blackman Book 6) by Helen Harper

is that I’m just mush. ‘You see through me too,’ I tell him. ‘So now we’re even.’
    ***
    I leave Michael to my grandfather’s brusque and unembarrassed ministrations and go through to check on Rogu3. There’s still no sign of Maria and the young teenager is glaring ferociously at the computer screen as if he can blame technology for all that’s wrong with the world. Judging from the set of his spine, he’s not yet made any progress with his new software, so I leave him where he is and head for the fridge to get some blood. It won’t be particularly tasty and it won’t do much to stave off my hunger but it’ll be better than nothing. I don’t need to drink as often I did when I was a newbie but, if I go for too long, strength saps out of me like water from a leaky bucket.
    I’m halfway there when my phone rings. I pull it out, a frisson of excitement zipping through me when I see that it’s Foxworthy. ‘This is Bo.’
    ‘Morning.’ The gruff inspector’s voice sounds hollow, as if he’s in a cave.
    ‘Where are you?’ I ask.
    ‘Hiding in a damn cell so no one hears me talking to you,’ he answers. ‘It appears that there’s a new initiative in place.’
    Something about the way he says it sets me on edge. ‘Go on.’
    ‘Orders from on top. We are to seek out any surviving bloodguzzlers and place them into custody for their own safety.’
    ‘So because giving ourselves up voluntarily didn’t work, we’re going to be treated as criminals? What happens once we’ve been taken in?’
    He inhales heavily. ‘There’s a special squad that will take you to an unknown location. All the better to keep you safe, of course.’
    I roll my eyes. ‘Of course.’
    ‘Bo,’ he says, ‘I’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s unprecedented. And it’s bloody dangerous.’
    It’s good to know that he’s seeing things the same way I am. ‘You say that this has come from on top. How far up are we talking?’
    ‘Government level.’
    I purse my lips. It doesn’t take a genius to work out which damned politician put it into place. ‘Wanker,’ I mutter.
    ‘It’s not my fault,’ Foxworthy says, put out.
    ‘Not you.’
    ‘I’m glad to hear it. Now, listen. I can find a way for you to get out of the city. I’ve been assigned across the river this evening. If I come and pick you up then…’
    ‘Whoa. Who said anything about leaving?’
    Rogu3 looks up from the computer, his expression suddenly intent. I gesture to him to get back to what he’s doing. He doesn’t move.
    ‘Bo,’ Foxworthy continues, ‘this is getting serious. I understand you are stubborn and you don’t want to leave with your tail between your legs but you can come back when things calm down. This is not the time for a vampire to be strolling around the streets!’
    ‘I didn’t know you cared.’
    ‘There’s been enough damned blood on my streets as it is.’
    I don’t comment on his use of the personal pronoun because I feel like that about London too. It’s the kind of place that gets under your skin, whether you were born here or not, and it stays there like an itch that’s annoying but so very, very satisfying to scratch.
    ‘Thank you for the offer,’ I tell him. I mean it sincerely; it’s nice to know the gruff old policeman cares. ‘But I’m fine. Tell me you have other news.’
    He sighs. ‘I don’t suppose I can change your mind.’
    ‘Nope.’ I try again. ‘Do you have anything else to tell me?’
    ‘Going up against the Kakos daemons is lunacy.’
    ‘Foxworthy…’
    ‘Alright, alright. I’ve found several addresses for your daemon. The most recent one seems to be 12 Brightside Avenue.’
    ‘That’s next to Canary Wharf.’ The poshest-of-posh, over-priced scraps of land in the country. It figures.
    ‘It is.’ He pauses. ‘Am I going to be scraping you off the pavement and into a body bag?’
    I feel my fangs lengthen and my heart rate pick up. ‘Not if I do this properly. Cheers,