Scorched Heart (The Firebrand Series Book 4)

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Scorched Heart (The Firebrand Series Book 4) Page 6

by Helen Harper

I stripped off my shirt and darted into the bathroom to wipe off the worst of the sticky juice. As soon as I turned on the tap, however, there was a strange loud squawk that had nothing to do with the pub’s plumbing. What the hell was it?

  I leaned back so that the rest of the room was visible through the bathroom doorway. Nothing looked different. I frowned and decided that I must be imagining things when suddenly there was another loud squawk followed by frantic tapping at the window. For fuck’s sake. It was yet another damned crow, perched on the windowsill and staring at me with sharp, beady eyes. The window was propped open a few inches to let in the warm summer breeze. I should have been grateful that the bird hadn’t squeezed into my room through the gap, but I wasn’t.

  ‘This is ridiculous!’ I exploded, my voice echoing round the room. I spun round and dropped my shirt, preparing to thump on the window and scare the bird away. I stomped round the bed – and then there was a creak from behind me.

  A second later, a large hand clamped over my mouth and another reached for my throat and began to squeeze.

  Chapter Eight

  Gah.

  I shifted my body and heard a pained creak as I moved. Floorboards, I decided. That’s what that noise was. I was lying on old floorboards. My nostrils flared. The acrid stench of sulphur clung to the air. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

  ‘Morning, Emma!’

  I opened one eye and squinted. I was still in my room at the Bird and Bush. Sitting in the old armchair opposite the bed, with her feet tucked up underneath her, was Laura.

  I groaned and heaved myself up, grabbed the duvet from the bed and wrapped it round my body. ‘I died again, didn’t I?’ I asked flatly.

  ‘I’m afraid so.’ Her expression was both concerned and sympathetic. ‘I’d have moved your body to the bed but I figured you probably didn’t want to set the whole pub alight when you resurrected. The floor seemed the best option for minimising the damage.’

  I looked down. There was a vast scorch mark on the wooden floorboards where I’d been lying. I winced.

  Laura stood up and grabbed hold of the edge of the rug near her feet, dragging it across to cover the burn. Almost. There was still a bit of charring visible around the edges. ‘There,’ she said cheerfully. ‘As good as new.’ Then her grin vanished and she gave me a long look. ‘Trouble follows you around like a bad smell from a skunk,’ she said. ‘What happened? Who did this?’

  I glanced at the small clock on the dresser. It was just after six in the morning; it always took me twelve hours to resurrect. That meant I’d died almost instantly after that hand had reached for my throat.

  As I looked round the room, my gaze settled on the large armoire in the corner. My mouth thinned as I stalked over to it and flung open the door. It creaked loudly. There, smack bang in the centre of the damned thing, were two large, booted footprints.

  ‘Someone was in here,’ I said darkly. ‘They came in here, hid in this fucking wardrobe, and when I came into the room they jumped out and…’ I gritted my teeth. Bastard.

  I was almost as annoyed with myself as I was with my damned would-be murderer. I was too strong to allow someone to kill me so easily. I’d been taken completely unaware and I’d died almost instantly. I should have – and indeed could have – done more.

  ‘That is not good,’ Laura murmured.

  No, not good at all. Another thought occurred to me. ‘Fuck!’ I hissed. I’d left Julie waiting in the bar and I’d never returned. She probably thought I’d done a runner. I balled my hands up into fists, clenching them so tightly that they hurt.

  ‘Did you see who the killer was?’ Laura asked.

  I shook my head. ‘No.’ I made a face. ‘But they were strong. Really strong. I didn’t have any time to react, and these days I’m pretty powerful and very fast. Whoever it was, they didn’t hesitate.’ Unbelievable, I growled to myself. Un-fucking-believable. Why did this keep happening to me?

  ‘I arrived here just before nine last night,’ Laura told me. ‘I checked in and tried to call you. When you didn’t answer, I knocked on your door. I knew you were expecting me and the bloke downstairs told me you hadn’t gone out, so I persuaded him to open the room up and let me check on you.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘We’re sisters now, if anyone asks. It’s the only way I could get him to unlock the door for me.’

  ‘Did he see—?’ I gestured to my body.

  ‘No. When I saw your feet, I knew what had probably happened so I made sure he didn’t spot anything untoward.’

  That was good. Plenty of people in London were already aware of my ability to avoid death, but I didn’t imagine such a revelation would go down particularly well in the little village of Barchapel. Especially not in the light of Patrick Lacey’s murder a few days ago.

  ‘I examined your body,’ Laura said. ‘I can’t be entirely positive without X-rays, but it looks as if your neck was broken. From the bruises and the lividity, I reckon the murderer started by trying to throttle you and then snapped your bones. If it helps, I don’t believe you suffered.’ She looked at me anxiously.

  All I could do was shrug. I must have blacked out almost immediately, because I had no memory of it.

  ‘The only thing we can be sure of is that he wouldn’t have expected you to re-awaken,’ Laura continued.

  ‘He?’

  ‘Whoever did this was strong. And from the size of those boot prints in the wardrobe and the marks on your neck, it was someone large. I’d lay money that it was a male.’

  I glanced back at the wardrobe. Those boot prints… Another thought occurred to me and I reached for my suitcase. As soon as my hand fell on it, I sucked in a sharp breath. The padlock was broken. Whoever had killed me had forced it open. I flipped open the lid. My clothes were still there and so was my crossbow – much good it had done me – but the files pertaining to Lacey’s murder were gone.

  ‘This was no opportunistic murder,’ I said. ‘It’s obvious I was deliberately targeted. And I was targeted because of Patrick Lacey.’

  I wasn’t so much angry as filled with an incandescent rage that was powerful enough to make me shake uncontrollably. Never mind that Barchapel was a small place and that I was confident I’d find my latest killer within days. Never mind that I’d sprung back to life yet again and could already feel the surge of strength my re-awakening had created. Whoever had ended Patrick Lacey’s life had ended mine as well – and in the very village where my parents had also been murdered.

  I would rampage through this damned place until I found the person responsible and then I’d ensure that they never experienced freedom again. Fuck them. The fury that coursed through my veins and arteries wouldn’t settle until justice was done - not that anyone would have known how I was feeling from the way I was sitting primly at the table in the breakfast room at the Bird and Bush. My crossbow was beside me; from now on I was keeping it beside me at all times. Just in case.

  My phone dinged and I slid it out. Lukas. My heart fluttered momentarily as I opened his text message.

  I missed having you next to me when I woke up this morning. Did you sleep well? x

  I stared at it, wondering whether I should phone and speak to him directly. Instead, I took the coward’s way out.

  I slept like the dead. And then But I missed you too x

  I waited to see if he would message again but nothing appeared. Sighing, I put the phone face down and looked up as the waitress approached.

  ‘Good morning!’ she chirped, pad and pen in hand. Fortunately, she didn’t clock the crossbow by my side. ‘What would you like this morning?’

  ‘Coffee, orange juice, full English, and to speak to the manager,’ I said, with a bright smile of my own.

  The waitress blinked. ‘Uh…’

  ‘I’m with the police,’ I explained. ‘I need to ask the manager a few questions as a matter of urgency.’ I cast a glance around the room. ‘Do you have CCTV here, by any chance?’

  Her eyes widened a fraction, and her sunny demean
our slipped. ‘I don’t think so. Is there a problem? Has something been stolen from your room?’

  My life, I thought irritably. ‘If I could just speak to the manager – or the owner,’ I said.

  ‘This place is owned by a brewery and the manager won’t be in until lunchtime.’

  I sniffed and shook out my napkin. ‘Very well. I’ll make sure I’m around when she arrives.’

  ‘He.’

  Whatever. ‘If you could let him know that I need to speak to him, that would be helpful.’

  The waitress scratched her neck, her discomfort painfully visible. ‘Sure. I can do that.’

  Laura, freshly showered and changed, ambled in and took the seat opposite me. The waitress looked at her warily, clearly wondering what fresh hell was now going to be forthcoming.

  ‘Can I please have a double espresso and scrambled eggs on toast?’ Laura asked. The waitress nodded and scribbled down the order before departing at high speed. Laura raised an eyebrow. ‘Something you said?’

  ‘This isn’t an anonymous hotel with hundreds of rooms. Someone must have seen whoever sneaked into my room. I’ll find out who is behind all this.’

  I glared round the room at the other guests. As I’d suspected, they were all police officers, here for Patrick Lacey’s murder investigation. I recognised a couple of faces from the station but even if I hadn’t, their auras and body language screamed police. Their combined presence hadn’t stopped me from being murdered, however. And none of them displayed even the faintest trace of shock at my living, breathing appearance.

  Laura nodded. ‘You have my every confidence. I give it twenty-four hours max before your killer is brought bang to rights.’ She grinned at me. ‘I bet your Lukas isn’t very happy about what’s happened.’

  I looked down. ‘Mmmm. I haven’t told him,’ I admitted. ‘I’m a bit ashamed that I was overpowered so easily. The last thing I want is for Lukas to think that he has to protect me or look over my shoulder to make sure that I’m alright – especially when it’s obviously unnecessary.’

  ‘Either that,’ she murmured, ‘or you don’t feel that you completely trust the Lord of all vampires and you want to retain some independence.’

  I looked at her and she smiled back serenely. I didn’t have time to deny what she’d said because the waitress returned with the coffee. Besides, there were other matters to discuss. ‘I’ll go to the station and get hold of DCI Boateng. I need a second set of files to replace the ones that were stolen.’

  ‘Will you tell him how the files were lost?’

  I nodded. ‘I think so. It relates to Lacey’s murder so I’ll have to come clean about it, including my recent death. Whether he believes me or not is another matter.’

  ‘I’d like to be a fly on the wall for that one.’ Laura’s smile was tinged with worry. ‘I’ll wander over to the cottage and get those samples. I’ve only got my portable lab kit with me, but it shouldn’t take too long to confirm that you died here when you were a child. And you know that I’ll be happy to look at any of the evidence concerning Lacey if it will help.’

  ‘I owe you, Laura,’ I said quietly. ‘Big time.’

  She dismissed my words with a wave of her hand. ‘My business is death as much as yours is. This is my calling.’

  I sighed. Yeah. Death was my calling too. Unfortunately.

  Harris Boateng looked as fresh as a daisy. By the time I arrived at the Barchapel police station, he’d already given the morning’s briefing and was poring over what appeared to be a stack of statements. Judging by the pile of paper in front of him, his officers had spoken to just about every resident in the village.

  ‘Good morning, Emma,’ he said, looking up. ‘You look well rested.’

  Hmm. ‘I might say the same of you, sir,’ I said. I motioned towards the door. ‘Do you mind if I…?’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  I closed the door and sat down opposite him. I unstrapped the crossbow and placed it on the desk between us. Boateng gazed at it but didn’t comment.

  I drew in a deep breath. ‘I have a confession to make.’

  ‘You’re a supe who possesses the inability to die.’

  My mouth dropped open.

  Boateng shrugged. ‘When DSI Barnes told me you were coming to town, I didn’t just look up your professional record. There are a lot of rumours about you dying and coming back to life, although nothing has been confirmed and most people think it’s bullshit.’

  ‘You don’t?’

  ‘Actually,’ he said easily, ‘until about twenty seconds ago, I did think that.’

  I stared at him, then realisation dawned. Boateng had outplayed me; he’d manipulated my reaction to his words in order to learn the truth before I had the chance to tell him myself. ‘Touché,’ I managed.

  He grinned. ‘It’s not every day a Kent copper like me meets a supe, especially not an immortal supe. What’s it like?’

  I grunted. ‘It’s not immortality. I still age like everyone else. And being a supe is not as much fun as you might think.’

  ‘I can believe that.’ He leaned forward. ‘So why did you come in here to tell me this?’

  ‘Because,’ I said baldly, ‘last night someone broke into my room at the Bird and Bush, waited for me to return and killed me. I only resurrected a couple of hours ago.’

  This time it was Boateng’s turn to look astonished. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Oh.’

  ‘They also stole the files you gave me.’

  He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Oh.’

  ‘I didn’t see who my killer was.’ I wanted to leave Laura out of this so I didn’t mention her. ‘But I’m fairly certain they broke my neck. Lacey’s killer also went for his throat, which suggests some similarities between our deaths – although my jugular wasn’t ripped out like Lacey’s was. Right now, I have to assume that the files were the motive for my murder. Who knew that I had them?’

  Boateng took a long moment to answer as he continued to wrestle with the revelation of my recent death. ‘Any number of people,’ he said finally. ‘It was no secret. Half the police officers in this building probably know.’

  ‘And they could have mentioned it to others or been overheard mentioning it.’

  He stiffened. ‘We might not be the Metropolitan Police, but we do know how to conduct ourselves. Perhaps someone saw you carrying the files out of here.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ I paused. ‘There’s a set of boot prints in the wardrobe in my room. I’m no expert, but they look pretty similar to the ones that were found close to Patrick Lacey’s body.’

  Boateng’s face darkened. ‘I see.’

  ‘And there’s something else,’ I continued. ‘One of the locals told me yesterday evening that Patrick Lacey was the person who discovered my parents’ dead bodies.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘I knew that.’

  ‘You didn’t tell me.’

  ‘As I’ve already said, there’s no reason to link what happened to your family to what happened to Patrick Lacey. It’s merely an unfortunate coincidence. In fact, if you’d read the files I gave you, you’d have seen the section concerning your parents’ deaths. I included his witness statement from back then.’

  ‘I didn’t get the chance to look through them. I was hoping I could get another copy.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do but I think it would be best if you don’t remove anything from the station from now on. We don’t need more sensitive material going missing. I’ll send a couple of forensics guys round to your room at the pub. We’ll take a look at these boot prints of yours and see what else turns up. You should call the pub and tell them to expect someone.’ He watched me. ‘But remember that Lacey was not well liked in Barchapel. He had violent tendencies and frequently got into fights. Our working theory is that either there’s an illegal supe living nearby, or one was passing through and Lacey rubbed them up the wrong way.’

  ‘After our conversation yesterday I’d have agreed with you. But my murder puts a
different spin on things.’

  ‘Unless,’ Boateng countered, ‘I’m not the only person who’s heard the rumours about what you are, and the perp was worried about what you might uncover.’

  ‘They wouldn’t have killed me if they’d heard the rumours. They’d have known that murdering me would be a wasted effort.’

  ‘True,’ he conceded. ‘But it’s not a secret that you’re from Supe Squad. That alone could worry the perp.’

  It was possible. I tried to think dispassionately but it wasn’t easy. ‘I wouldn’t normally place much credence on online comments,’ I said, choosing my words carefully, ‘but someone mentioned that Lacey had been friends with a killer. Unless Barchapel is heaving with murderers, whoever made that comment must have been referring to Samuel Beswick.’

  ‘I don’t know a great deal about that particular crime, Emma.’ Boateng’s voice was gentle. ‘It was a long time ago. But given the nature of this place, I imagine many people were friendly with Mr Beswick.’

  I thought about what Julie had said last night: she’d implied some sort of brief romantic relationship with him. Boateng was probably right. I’d put it on the back burner for now – but I wouldn’t forget it.

  He sighed. ‘At least we know one thing from your murder.’

  ‘What’s that, sir?’

  ‘If the same person killed you as killed Lacey, they haven’t left the area. The population of Barchapel is less than eight thousand. It shouldn’t be hard to find our killer.’

  I set my jaw. ‘Oh, I’ll find them alright.’

  He gazed at me for a long moment. ‘We will find them.’ He drummed his fingers on the desk. ‘As far as I’m concerned, nothing has changed from yesterday. I can’t include you on the official investigating team as anything other than a consultant. You’re not part of the Kent Major Crime Team, and our bureaucracy is as much of a nightmare as the Met’s. However, it’s important that we work with and not against each other. My view on that hasn’t changed. I still believe that a supe is responsible and so I need your help. I’m not giving you free rein, Emma, but I will allow you considerable latitude as long as you share your findings.’

 

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