Blood and Fire: An Urban Fantasy (The Marked Book 1)

by D. N. Hoxa

  Friends might be an exaggeration. I wasn’t sure Travis considered me a friend anymore, but anyway.

  “Since I didn’t know how to translate those runes, I went to see Sasha Fortine next, as she was Nana’s friend and I was hoping she could help me. Well, she wasn’t there. Her students told me that she’d packed her bags and left and told them to give me a picture of your Enclave. The picture is in the folder, sir.”

  Again, Dumont opened the folder, took the picture out, and put it in front of Ford.

  I watched closely for a reaction. There was none.

  I cleared my throat and continued. “Well, I recognized Gwendolyn Love and Cornelius Graneheart from that picture, so I thought they would be able to help me. So I went to see Gwendolyn. She told me that you were in the picture, too, and that this had been your Enclave. I was on my way out of her house when her guard and I heard her screams. We got there in time to see the man responsible take Gwendolyn and disappear into thin air. If you scroll down the pictures on my phone, you’ll see the runes in her house were almost identical to the ones in Nana’s.”

  This time, Dumont didn’t need to help. Ford was perfectly capable of sliding his finger over the screen. And he saw the picture.

  No reaction. Man, he was good.

  And I was sweating like a pig.

  “At the time, I was convinced that whoever was doing this was targeting the high priests of the city, so it was logical to go after Cornelius Graneheart, too, in search of information. But by the time I got there, he’d been attacked and was being carried to an ambulance. And the MM was there, too.”

  God, it was hot in there. And why wasn’t anyone saying anything? Not one single word! Fucking weirdos.

  “So, we went to see a guy who could translate the Egyptian runes, only roughly, and if you look at the napkin in the folder…” I looked at Dumont. He rolled his eyes quickly, as if he were afraid to be seen by Ford, and took the napkin out of the folder. “This is what he came up with. The rest we found at the library, and we think whoever’s doing the spells is designing them specifically for each person. The guy we spoke to said that the spell was used in ancient rituals to speak to the dead. And some of the words we were able to translate with certainty are future, past,death and reverse. But we didn’t have much else to go on, so we hired a hacker online to find the names and addresses of the other people in the picture. And then we went to check on all of them. Guess what?” I looked up at Dumont, who only raised a brow. “All of them have disappeared into thin air. The hacker couldn’t find anything on these two”—I pointed at the men in the picture from afar, afraid to get into Ford’s personal space—“but the rest are all gone. Except you.”

  I stopped.

  I waited.

  Was he even listening to me?

  “So. I turned myself in so I could ask to speak to you because I believe you are the only one who might know what’s going on.”

  Ford finally moved. He leaned back in the chair, his eyes still on the picture.

  “What do you think is going on, Ms. Monroe?”

  Wasn’t that obvious already? “I think something happened in your Enclave, that you did something that might have hurt someone in some way, and that someone is out to get revenge. That’s why he’s taken all of the people in this picture, except for you, of course, and he plans to do a ritual with them. I just don’t know what kind yet.”

  “Let me assure you that none of my students, during the time that they served in my Enclave, did anything to harm anyone, in any way.”

  My heart skipped a long beat. “No, I don’t doubt that. Just that maybe they’d have done something that someone could have perceived as wrong?”

  “Surely, I can’t be held responsible for people’s perception and neither can my students,” he said with a sick smile on his face. He was as repulsive as he was handsome.

  “But they are. That’s the point. They’re being held responsible for something. Someone thinks they’re guilty of something, and you are the only person who was there then, and is here now, who can tell us.”

  Suddenly, his eyes moved to mine. Slowly. I held my breath as he watched me. It was impossible not to look into his small eyes and see his power.

  “You’re driven, Ms. Monroe. Whatever it is that drives you, be it curiosity or stupidity, it’s gotten you further than our detectives have been able to get.”

  Wait a minute. Did he just call me stupid?

  “Which is why I am willing to offer you a day to work with the resources we can provide, to give me a name or a location, before you go back to where you belong.”

  Insults. Insults, everywhere.

  “No, no, that’s not why I’m here. I mean, yes, I do want to be part of the investigation and help as much as I can, but this isn’t going to work.”

  He pinned me down with his stare. “Would you rather go to jail right now?” Finally, he showed some emotion. Surprise.

  “No. This isn’t going to work because we don’t have the key information, the information you’re supposed to give us. Without knowing what the motive is, we can’t hope to find who’s behind this. It could be anyone!”

  “But you’ve gotten this far, haven’t you? And, like I said before, there is no key information. My Enclave, myself and my students included, haven’t wronged anyone.”

  “But you must have!”

  “Monroe,” Dumont warned, but I didn’t care. This was so not happening. I didn’t turn myself in to be told that the only man who should know something knows nothing!

  “You must have done something to someone, Mr. Ford. I beg you, please, think about it. There’s a reason why this person is targeting your former Enclave. There’s a reason why he’s coming after all of you.”

  “And I believe you,” said Ford, his voice slightly raised. He was beginning to show his anger, too. His eyes had turned just a bit red at the corners. “I want more than anyone for this to be over and for the person responsible to come in front of the Order of Magians for judgment. But I can’t help you anymore than to give you the resources you need to finish this investigation.”

  I shook my head. “But you don’t need me. Right, Dumont?” I looked at him and begged with my eyes. “Tell him you don’t need me.”

  Dumont said nothing.

  “It was actually the detective’s idea, Ms. Monroe,” said Ford.

  I felt completely betrayed.

  “But…this isn’t going to work. If you can’t tell me why he’s doing this, I don’t know where to even start looking anymore.” And who was to say if Nana and the others even had a day?

  “I cannot tell you why he’s doing this, no,” said Ford. “But I can tell you, if all of these people are taken or dead, then it has to be someone from the outside.”

  “Except the two men the hacker couldn’t find.”

  Oh, my God. That could be it! That could be…

  “They both died a long time ago, I’m afraid,” said Ford, crashing all my hope and throwing it to the ground.

  “Mr. Ford, please, think about it. There must have been something you’ve done, someone you’ve pissed off. Someone who has reason to do this!” I was desperate and he could see it.

  Unfortunately, he didn’t give a shit.

  “We’ve done nothing, and this is the last time I will say it,” he said, and I almost felt a push against my chest, like he’d used his magic on me. “Twenty-four hours is what you have to work with Detective Dumont and give me a name or a location. Think about it hard, Ms. Monroe.” Ford leaned closer to me over the desk as he watched me with his head lowered and his eyebrows raised. It made him look like a real devil. “It’s the best offer you’re going to get.”

  This wasn’t happening. I needed air.

  I was in front of the only guy I thought could give me answers, and now it turns out he couldn’t. What the hell was I going to do now?

  “Okay,” I said, feeling completely defeated. I was going to go to prison, anyway. If I could have another twent
y-four hours to try to come up with something that could help Nana, I’d take it. There really wasn’t much of a choice.

  “Good thinking,” said Ford with a clap that had me jumping in place, but I was past feeling embarrassed. “Now, I’ll need you to answer some questions for me, then I’ll let you be on your way.”

  “What questions? I’ve already told you everything.” I’d suspected he wasn’t even listening to me all along.

  But turns out, he was.

  And he had a lot of questions.

  Where were you at the time of Tanana Kaur’s kidnapping?

  Who told you about the kidnapping?

  Why did you accept the Enclave from Tanana’s lawyer?

  Who is the we you talk about when you tell your story?

  What do you know about the dog-like creatures who’ve attacked you, twice now, as I understand?

  Who is the man who translated the Egyptian runes for you?

  And many, many more. He was a curious man himself, and he exhausted me. I was honest in all things, except for Logan. I wasn’t going to get him involved in this if I could help it, so I didn’t answer that question.

  And by the time the interrogation was over, I felt like someone had sucked all my blood dry and left me to die.

  Except, I wasn’t dead yet. And hopefully neither was Nana.

  18

  The man watched me like I had three boobs on my chest. At first, it had been annoying, but now, it was fun to watch them squirm like that. The others only watched from a distance, but this guy was braver than the rest. He’d actually made it all the way to the cubicle with a cup of coffee in his hand, and he kept staring. I stared right back.

  And when I winked, he almost spilled his coffee on himself.

  “How’s it going there?” I pointed at the cup. “Does that have any sugar in it?”

  The man nodded.

  I stood up and took the cup from his hand while he watched me, paralyzed. I really wasn’t that scary. Honest to God. But he must have heard some of the fake stories that circled around the city about me, so there he was.

  “Are you…are you really the One-eyed Hawk?” he asked.

  “Yep.”

  I took a sip of his coffee. Delicious. I’d have liked a bit more sugar in it, but this was fine, too. I was going to keep it.

  “And you are…working here now?” He stretched the W for about a mile.

  Eh, what the heck. Why not have some fun?

  “Yep.” I raised his cup of coffee to him. “If you want to know my secrets, all you gotta do is ask. And don’t worry, I don’t usually kill my colleagues—unless they really piss me off.”

  It was a joke. Just a freaking joke!

  But the guy turned away and walked so fast back to his cubicle, I was surprised he didn’t fall on his face. The others around me all turned to their computers, too.

  Except one.

  I had my lips in my mouth, trying to keep from laughing, but the woman in the cubicle on the other side of mine didn’t bother. I stood up to look. She was about my age, if I had to guess, with long, blonde hair falling in perfect waves over her shoulders. She had wide brown eyes and her red lipstick looked like she’d intentionally tried to miss the natural lines of her lips. It was all over the place, but she didn’t give a shit.

  “He totally bought it!” she said breathlessly when she saw me peeking.

  I grinned. “And you didn’t?”

  “Oh, no,” she said, waving her hand at me before wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes. She was still shaking with laughter.

  With my coffee in hand, I went around the cubicle and stood next to her. “Why not?” I was curious.

  “Detective Dumont would have never brought you here if you were dangerous, for one,” she said, moving her chair to the side a bit but not because she was afraid. It looked like she just wanted to give me a bit of space. “And you like sugar in your coffee.”

  Now I was surprised. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  She shrugged. “You can’t be a coldhearted murderer and like sweets. Haven’t you seen the villains in movies?”

  Interesting concept. “I hadn’t noticed that, no.”

  “I’m Naomi Lewis, by the way.” She offered me her hand, and I took it.

  “Ruby Monroe.”

  “Oh, I know who you are. Everybody knows,” she said, then came closer to me and whispered. “You know what would be really awesome? If you took my gun and fired at the ceiling!” Her brown eyes glowed with excitement.

  “You’re kidding.” She had to be.

  But she shook her head. “Absolutely not! Can you imagine the panic? I’d bet anything that at least three people here would faint.” She put her heart and soul into her laugh. I’d never seen anything like it before, and it was contagious. Before I realized it, I was shaking with laughter, too. “Oh, God, that would literally be the best moment of my life. Hands down.”

  “You’d actually give me your gun?” I asked in disbelief. She claimed to know who I was, and as far as people knew, I was the woman who’d killed thirteen people in the dead of the night, just for the fun of it. Of course, I’d never killed thirteen people, only eight between Avery and myself, but nobody knew that.

  “Absolutely! Will you take it? Pretty please?”

  Holy shit, she was serious. I couldn’t even wrap my head around it. And she was right, that would be the most fun I’d had in ages, but as much as I’d have liked having people running around the office in panic, I couldn’t.

  “First of all, you’d probably get fired. And I’d be put in jail right away. So, no. As much fun as it sounds, I’m going to have to pass.”

  She pouted. “I wouldn’t have gotten fired. I’d have just said you took it from me by force. But you’re right, you’d probably end up in jail.”

  I grinned. At least she was being honest.

  “Let me ask you a serious question. How the hell do you get your hair to look like that?” Seriously, it was gorgeous. The way it bounced around and not a hair left its place. All of it in perfect waves.

  “With a curler,” she said, touching the end of her hair. “Like it?”

  “Love it. But I owned a curler once, and my curls looked a lot different.”

  “That’s because you were using it wrong.” She picked up a pen from her desk. “When you hold it like this and grab the hair from the tip, it’ll turn into boring, ugly curls. But if you hold the curler upright”—she demonstrated it by pulling the bottom of the pen up and grabbing a chunk of her hair—“and wrap your hair from the middle and down, you’ll get these fancy waves. Got it?”

  “Wow, I never knew you could do that.” It looked so easy when she described it.

  “Just be very careful until you learn the motions. See this?” she pulled her hair away and showed me a tiny scar on the side of her neck. “Curler.”

  I flinched. “Oooh, that must have hurt.”

  “Like a bitch,” Naomi agreed. “But once you get used to it, you’ll be done in ten minutes. The thicker you want the waves to be, the more hair you use at once.”

  I wondered if I should write that down. I wasn’t very good at remembering things.

  “What more can you tell me?”

  Naomi had a lot to tell me. Vitamins to strengthen the hair and nails, how to apply nail polish, what to use as a primer under your foundation, how to correctly pluck your eyebrows—she was a freaking well of information. I could listen to her go on and on for days.

  Alas, our conversation was short-lived when Dumont came by the cubicle where he’d left me and cleared his throat. As if I couldn’t see the bear of a man coming from a mile away.

  I held up my finger at him because I really wanted to hear what Naomi had to say about waxing my lady parts. I’d never had the courage to try it, but she said it was a godsend.

  “After the first few times, you won’t be able to even look at a razor ever again. The hair comes out smooth, doesn’t itch, you barely notice it
’s even there.”

  “So you do this each month?” Just the thought of having hot wax on any part of my skin made me want to run away screaming, but I controlled myself.

  “Yep. Two days after your period ends is the best time. That way, you’ll hardly feel any pain.” Well, fuck me.

  “Ladies, I really am very sorry to interrupt you because waxing vaginas is a topic I’m really fond of myself, but we have some pressing matters we need to attend to,” said Dumont. Smartass.

  But he was right. With a sigh, I stood up from the desk where I’d been sitting. “Guess I’ll see you later, Naomi.”

  “Absolutely. Let me know if you want to grab a bite later.” She put her headphones on and stuck her tongue out at Dumont. People usually looked away when he walked past the cubicles, but Naomi didn’t seem to care about that, either.

  Dumont only grinned and waved for me to follow him. I winked at Naomi and fell into step with him. He was taking me back to the main hall of the building.

  “You took your sweet time,” I said, feeling a bit excited, but also nervous. He’d left me in that cubicle all alone, claiming he’d be right back. He’d been gone more than twenty minutes. Now that he was back, I was dying to ask him who that man who’d come to my cell was. He’d known I was about to tell Dumont everything, and he told me to wait for Ford, that he was coming to meet me. And he’d been right.

  But he also told me not to tell Dumont anything for whatever reason, so I bit my tongue and resisted the temptation.

  “Well, while you talked about vaginas and periods, I went and got your things.” He showed me a see-through plastic bag with my weapons in it. Joy! I went to grab the bag, but he pulled it away. “A-a! I’m not giving you these back. I’ll hold onto them for now.”

  “So why the hell did you have to go back for them?” I said, pissed off. We went around the main desk and the three clerks sitting at it, who watched me shamelessly with eyes wide open, and to the right. The middle door led us to a long corridor with black chairs along the sides and three doors on either side. Detective offices. So we were going to Dumont’s office.

  “Because I feel more comfortable having them in my line of vision,” he said, and I realized exactly what that meant.