Hell's Teeth (Phoebe Harkness Book 1) by James Fahy Read Free Book Online Page B

unprepossessing, even in his crisp suit, but he was practically royalty. The fact that he was here at Blue Lab was worrying in the extreme.
    “And indeed I know yours , Dr Harkness,” he replied. “You are correct, I would not usually pay a personal visit to R&D, but this is a somewhat sensitive issue…” This was even more worrying. I had no idea why I would be on the radar of someone like him. I work with rats. It’s not a glittering career. I try to stay off the map as much as possible.
    He gestured towards one of the elevators as Miranda removed the tube from my finger and busied herself checking that I was still human as usual.
    “I really must insist you come with us at once,” he said.
    I turned to Miranda. “Are my team in yet?” I asked. She shook her head mutely. I had never seen her so quiet, but then the three hulking ghosts were practically oozing silent government menace from every pore. “Then will you let them know I’ll be down as soon as I’ve … assisted … Servant Harrison with…” I glanced at him, “… whatever it is I’m needed for?”
    He gave no indication that he had any intention of discussing anything here in the lobby. I had half-hoped he might at least give me a sketchy idea as to why I was about to be frogmarched into an elevator by Cabal nobility, knowing that Miranda, who was not the embodiment of discretion, would be sure to tell Griff and Lucy everything as soon as they arrived. I felt like I was trying to leave a message for my own protection, like in an old movie … if my lawyer doesn’t hear from me in half an hour … but he wasn’t biting.
    “Of course, Doctor. I’ll let them know you have business upstairs,” Miranda said helpfully.
    Upstairs is figurative at Blue Lab, of course. Of the many subterranean levels, those with the tightest security are the lowest. Our high up’s work deep down in the burrow, which we affectionately refer to as ‘the pit’. But we still call it ‘upstairs’ officially. It makes us feel more like we work for the good guys rather than on various levels of Dante’s Inferno.
    “Shall we?” Harrison said, somewhat impatiently, and he guided me to one of the many elevators, one of his Ghosts having already summoning it like an MI5 bellboy.
    Some people are just naturally guilty by nature. You know the kind, driving along and a police car passes and suddenly they’re all nervous and sweaty-palmed as though they expect to be pulled over for some hideous crime or other. The face of authority is enough to make some people sweat even if they’re innocent. Miranda, practically jittering in the presence of Cabal members and their entourage, was clearly a prime example, but in her defence they were quite intimidating.
    I’m not one of those people, however. I don’t like being pushed around, or ‘escorted’, by less than friendly Ghost agents, and I wasn’t particularly cowed by Servant Harrison and his ‘stern-headteacher’ act. I was more irritated. But I’m also not entirely stupid, and sometimes even I know well enough when to keep my mouth shut. At least until I have some clue as to what’s going on. Not all the time … but sometimes.
    So I got in the elevator with the old man and his dark-suited muscle like a well-behaved and meek lab drone, and rode down further than I’d ever been before, feeling like Alice being frogmarched down the rabbit hole.
    “Can I ask what this is about?” I queried, as the floors whooshed by. We were already ten levels lower than my own lab and still descending. My ears had popped. “My supervisor usually deals with anything outside of the lab, you see. I’m more the mad scientist type.” I tried a smile. It wasn’t returned, and in the withering atmosphere it kind of died on my face.
    Servant Harrison did not reply immediately. Indeed, for a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to at all.
    “I am aware of this, Doctor Harkness. Indeed, as will soon become clear, I have good reason not