Scorched Heart (The Firebrand Series Book 4)

by Helen Harper

  I nodded. I wouldn’t say anything. But I still had one more question. ‘You said you didn’t know who killed my parents. Was that the truth?’

  Miranda’s body seemed to fold in on itself. ‘It was.’ Her words were barely audible. ‘I have no idea who could have done that to them, or to a child like you.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lukas and I didn’t speak until we were back in his car. I noted the way his hands were shaking and took the keys from him, telling him I would drive. I half expected an argument but he simply nodded.

  His eyes met mine. ‘Do you believe her?’ he asked.

  I turned my head and stared out of the window at the dark trees. ‘Yeah, I do.’ I licked my lips. ‘Do you?’

  ‘Her story appears credible.’

  I curled my hands into fists, my fingernails digging into my palms. ‘I’m the phoenix because of her – I’m alive because of her. All this time and…’

  I shook my head, unable to finish my sentence. I hadn’t acquired my phoenix power because of genetics, or because I was special or heroic or deserving; I was the phoenix because of blind dumb luck. If Miranda hadn’t happened upon the murders at the cottage, I’d have been worm meat for the last twenty-five years.

  Part of me wished she’d saved my mother or my father instead. Part of me wanted to run inside the house and fall to my knees in gratitude for the life that I had been given. My whole world was churning. I didn’t know what to think. Or to feel.

  ‘What about this druid stuff?’ I asked, needing something concrete to focus on. ‘If she can really wield that sort of power and there are others like her…’

  ‘British history is littered with references to druids. It stands to reason that some still exist.’ Lukas paused. ‘I’ve heard rumours but I didn’t pay them much attention. Druids weren’t on my radar and had no cause to be. If that woman is to be believed, exerting any large blast of power has far-reaching consequences that most druids would want to avoid. And if nature is so important to them, you can understand why they maintain such secrecy. They’d be labelled as supes and forced to move to London with the rest of us. They’d be subject to supe law.’

  ‘But they’re essentially human,’ I objected. ‘Miranda James is human.’

  ‘So were alleged witches,’ Lukas said quietly. ‘It didn’t stop them from being burnt at the stake for hundreds of years.’

  He had a point. ‘If people like Miranda James can have that sort of power hidden in plain sight, then who else is out there?’ I asked. ‘What else is out there?’

  ‘It’s a good question,’ he said grimly. ‘Let’s not forget that we didn’t know that a phoenix could exist until very recently.’

  I swallowed, my brain suddenly conjuring up all manner of monsters. This was why the British government was so keen to keep track of all existing supes. It was down to fear that had as much to do with conjecture as reality.

  I glanced over at Lukas. Damn it, he didn’t look well at all. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his complexion was wan. ‘You’re sick. That crossbow bolt did a lot of damage.’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘I don’t think you are.’ I gestured to his chest. ‘Show me.’

  ‘It’s bandaged up, Emma. There’s nothing to see.’

  I folded my arms and glared. Lukas sighed then lifted up his shirt. I sucked in a breath at the damp, bloodstained bandages. ‘You’re still bleeding. A lot.’

  ‘I have excellent healing powers. In a few hours I’ll be dancing and skipping and solving any nasty murders that come my way.’

  I gave him a long look and he pulled a face. ‘Alright,’ he admitted. ‘I might be in more pain than I initially let on. I’m trying to be brave so that you think I’m a valiant hero. I’m here to help you, not the other way around.’

  A ghost of a smile crossed my face. ‘You are helping me, more than you know.’ I brushed my fingers lightly against his chest. ‘I have to get to London, no matter what. If we leave now, there’s time for me to take you to Soho. Your vamps can look after you while I go and see Samuel Beswick.’

  ‘I don’t need to be looked after. I need a bit of rest.’

  ‘That’s settled then,’ I said, satisfied. ‘Rest it is. In London.’ I turned on the engine.

  ‘Nobody else would order me around like that,’ Lukas growled.

  ‘And? What’s your point?’

  He leaned his head towards mine. ‘I like being told what to do when it comes from you,’ he said in a low voice. Despite his words, there was a note of warning. Lukas would only take my so-called orders so far. Regardless of our romantic ties, he was still Lord Horvath.

  ‘Do you have to speak to Beswick?’ he asked. ‘You already know his side of the story. Honestly, Emma, I think it’s better if we both stay here. I’ll rest up in your room so I’m close by if you need me. In fact, if I could find someone willing to donate some blood to my worthy cause, I’ll heal even more quickly and then I’ll be of more use to you.’

  ‘You won’t find someone like that in Barchapel,’ I told him, pretending that I’d already forgotten Miranda’s offer of her own blood. ‘And I have to see Samuel Beswick. He’s been in prison for a quarter of a century for my parents’ murders. I owe him a face-to-face meeting – it’s the least I can do.’

  My phone started to ring. I checked the screen, frowning at the withheld number. ‘Hang on,’ I said. ‘This might be important.’ I pressed the answer button. ‘This is DC Bellamy.’

  ‘Good morning, detective.’

  A trickle of unease ran through me when I recognised that voice. ‘Mr Jenkins,’ I said. ‘How are things up at Galloway?’

  ‘I’m afraid they could be better.’

  It wasn’t a trickle of unease I was feeling now, it was a damned flood. ‘What?’ I asked. ‘What is it?’

  ‘If I were you, I would cancel that trip to see us.’

  ‘Why?’

  Lukas’s phone dinged with a message. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him glance down at the screen and blanch.

  ‘I have some bad news,’ Jenkins said. ‘Samuel Beswick was attacked at breakfast this morning. For no reason that I can yet determine, one of the other prisoners decided to try and kill him, first with his food tray and then with some sort of shank.’

  The blood drained from my face. ‘Is he alright? Is Samuel Beswick alright?’

  ‘He’s not dead, if that’s what you’re asking. Not yet, anyway. But he’s been transferred to the nearest hospital and he’s in intensive care. It’s not looking good. I’m sorry to be the bearer of such news. We don’t often have incidents of this nature in Galloway. The prison officers here are adept at picking up on any trouble and preventing it before it starts. We also—’

  I shut out Jenkins’ litany of excuses. He droned on in my ear while bile rose in my mouth. I dropped the phone. No. Fuck. No.

  ‘That’s the prison, isn’t it?’ Lukas asked. ‘My contact there has been in touch. I’m so sorry, Emma.’

  His voice sounded as if it were coming from far away. I blinked rapidly and tried to focus. I couldn’t understand why this had happened now. Before my first visit to Samuel Beswick, I’d checked his prison record and there had been no indication of any trouble. In fact, to all intents and purposes he’d been a model prisoner. So why get involved in a fight now? What had changed? It didn’t make sense.

  My mind whirled. Focus, Emma. You need to deal with this.

  Lukas reached for me and squeezed my hand. ‘Are you okay?’

  I nodded stiffly, then picked up the phone again and interrupted Jenkins’ babble. My tone was hard and cold but this was not the time to play nice. ‘Tell me about the prisoner who attacked him. Who went for Samuel Beswick?’

  ‘His name is Frederick Parris, a nasty piece of work. He’s been in and out of prison since he was a teenager. He’s currently serving a life sentence for a double murder.’

  ‘Has Parris given any reason why he attacked Samuel Besw
ick?’

  ‘He said, and I quote, “the cockroach was looking at me funny”.’

  I clenched my teeth. ‘What previous contact was there between Beswick and Parris?’

  I could almost hear his shrug. ‘Nothing on record. The guards tell me that Beswick usually avoided the likes of Parris.’

  ‘So what you’re saying is that Frederick Parris approached him? Not the other way around?’

  ‘It looks that way. But, as you know, Samuel Beswick is in prison for violent crimes of his own. I’m told that it was your parents’ murders that brought him here in the first place. He may well have provoked Parris.’

  A strangled sound emerged involuntarily from my throat. Jenkins was obviously trying to underplay the attack on Beswick and imply that he’d had it coming to him, never mind that such a thing should never have happened in the first place. Archibald Jenkins had a PR role to play and he didn’t want me to cause problems.

  I hesitated, considering the best way to proceed. ‘I should inform you,’ I said eventually, ‘that I’m pursuing a line of investigation that seems to exonerate Samuel Beswick from the murder of my parents. It’s looking increasingly likely that he’s an innocent man who should never have been jailed.’

  A beat passed. ‘Goodness. That’s … uh … are you sure?’ Jenkins stammered.

  ‘Pretty much. I expect that it won’t be long before the miscarriage of justice against Mr Beswick is revealed to the world. It will be unfortunate if he doesn’t recover from this attack before then. You know what the tabloid press are like.’ I counted to five in my head, giving the assistant governor time to absorb the impact of my words. ‘I don’t suppose it would be possible to obtain a video of the attack? I assume it was caught on camera.’

  ‘We don’t usually…’ Jenkins sighed. ‘Very well.’

  ‘And all other information you have about Parris,’ I said briskly. ‘Visitors, phone calls, letters. Other interactions he’s had that you know of. That sort of thing.’

  ‘We can probably manage that,’ he said reluctantly.

  I smiled grimly. It was the least he could do. ‘Excellent. I’ll expect to receive the records by email within the hour.’ I hung up. It wasn’t much of a win but it would do for now. Poor Samuel Beswick. Those were three words I’d never imagined thinking a week ago.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Lukas repeated.

  ‘Yeah.’ I glanced at him, feeling nauseous. ‘Me too.’

  We headed back to the Bird and Bush. I splashed cold water on my face as the morning’s revelations spun round and round my mind. Lukas climbed onto the bed and I glanced at him while I patted my skin dry. His eyes were closed and he still had an unhealthy pallor. I shouldn’t ask the question, but I knew I’d have to.

  ‘I can feel you staring at me, D’Artagnan,’ Lukas said. ‘Why don’t you say what’s on your mind?’

  ‘You look really ill.’

  ‘That’s not what you were thinking. Spit it out.’

  I shifted my weight from foot to foot.

  Lukas opened one eye and looked at me. ‘You think I had something to do with what happened to Beswick.’ It wasn’t a question.

  I could feel my cheeks reddening. I glanced down at my shoes and back up at him. ‘Did you? You have access to the prison, you’ve already proved that. You were too busy to answer my calls yesterday. You showed up here earlier than expected. You have the means to get to someone inside and,’ I swallowed, thinking about the expression on his face when he’d gazed up at the high walls of HMP Galloway, ‘a motive,’ I finished in a whisper.

  Something indecipherable flashed in his eyes. ‘You’re right,’ he agreed.

  The tightness in my chest grew.

  ‘I do have the means. And, yes, I probably do have the motive, too.’ His mouth flattened. ‘Don’t you get it yet, Emma? You’re mine now. Your burdens are mine. Your pain is mine.’

  I remained very still. ‘I don’t belong to you, Lukas. I’m my own person. I’m not yours. I’m not a thing.’

  He didn’t remove his eyes from mine. ‘You know what I meant when I said that. The words are crude but the sentiment is true.’ He touched a hand to the centre of his broad chest. ‘You’re in here. You’re a part of me, just as I hope I’m a part of you. I don’t travel to the English countryside for anyone, you know.’

  He drew in a ragged breath. ‘It’s early days in our relationship, and we’re still finding our way around each other, but you know this feels right. I can see it in your eyes when you look at me. You feel what I feel.’ His voice deepened to a growl. ‘I know you don’t trust me yet, and I can understand why. Life hasn’t always dealt you the easiest of hands. However, I might be a vampire but I’m not a villain.’

  ‘I don’t think that you’re a—’ I protested.

  Lukas held up his hands. ‘It’s okay, Emma. I get it. I don’t like it but I get it. And I admit that if I’d thought for one moment that ending Samuel Beswick is what you truly wanted then yes, I probably would have done it. I could have arranged it in a heartbeat. But if I had done it, he wouldn’t be in a hospital bed. He’d be in a coffin.’

  I dug my fingernails into the palms of my hand.

  ‘I also know you, Emma,’ Lukas continued. ‘You’re in the police. It’s hardly a secret that you believe in the human legal system. If I did anything that caused harm to Samuel Beswick, you’d never speak to me again.’ He managed a smile. ‘And I couldn’t have that.’

  He reached for my hand. ‘Sooner or later, you’ll trust me. In the meantime I can be patient. And, for what it’s worth, I didn’t answer your calls because I was trying to finish my work quickly to get here to support you. The fact that you accused me of murder after almost murdering me yourself…’ He winked. ‘Well, I’ll let that slide because I’m a good guy.’

  I stared at him. ‘I’m sorry, Lukas.’

  ‘I told you already, it’s alright. I get it.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘You didn’t stew about it, and you didn’t allow your suspicions to grow while you stayed silent. You asked me for the truth. Right now, that’s enough.’ His voice took on an edge of self-mockery. ‘I’m not saying I’ll always be so relaxed about such accusations, but for the moment I’m prepared to let it go. And you know why?’

  I licked my lips. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because sooner or later you’ll trust me body and soul.’ He closed his eyes again. ‘You’re right about one thing, though.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I really don’t feel very well. Now that we’re not heading to London, do you mind if I have a nap?’

  I moved closer to him. ‘I think we should go back. You need proper care.’

  ‘You need to be here. That means I do, too.’

  I drew a deep breath into my lungs. ‘Take some blood first then. You need it.’

  ‘From you? D’Artagnan, much as I love you your blood tastes foul. I’d rather not. And you won’t endear yourself to anyone in Barchapel if you go looking for a willing donor. You were right before – I just need some rest.’

  ‘London isn’t that far—’

  He squeezed my hand. ‘A bit of sleep,’ he murmured, ‘and I’ll be fine.’ He paused. ‘And some peace and quiet will give me time to consider what reparations you need to make to my ego. Right now I’m thinking thigh-high leather boots and whipped cream might do the trick.’

  My shoulders dropped. ‘I’m willing to consider those options.’

  Lukas’s mouth curved upwards. ‘I’m very pleased to hear it, D’Artagnan. Very pleased.’

  Chapter Twenty

  Barchapel was doing unpleasant things to my psyche. The more time I spent here, delving into my past and uncovering the real truth about what had happened to my parents, the less sure I was becoming of myself.

  The guilt I felt at accusing Lukas of arranging to have Samuel Beswick killed on my behalf gnawed at me, even though he’d understood my mistrust came from a dark place that had little to do with him. The problem was that someon
e had attacked Beswick and the timing of that attack couldn’t be ignored. It was time to get to the bottom of all this. Woman up, Emma. Woman up.

  Until the information from Jenkins came through, any thoughts I had would be nothing but conjecture. But I couldn’t simply sit around twiddling my thumbs. The attack on Samuel Beswick had happened for a reason, and I reckoned that reason was because of what I’d uncovered. The timing was too strange otherwise. I was getting close to the truth.

  After checking through the old files that DCI Barnes had sent, and confirming that Miranda James had made repeated statements declaring that Samuel Beswick was innocent, I made a decision. I left Lukas to sleep and headed out of the room, squared my shoulders and marched to the Barchapel police station with quick, determined steps.

  DCI Boateng wouldn’t be as easy to manipulate as Jenkins but I was sure I could persuade him to give me access to what I needed. It helped that, when I appeared at the door, Rothsay ushered me through without hesitation.

  ‘We’ve been through this.’ Boateng spoke firmly, although his expression was kind. I noticed the heavy bags under his eyes; I could only imagine the pressure he was under to solve a hideous double murder. ‘Despite Patrick Lacey’s involvement, his murder and that of your parents are not connected. They can’t be.’

  ‘I’m not saying they are connected,’ I persisted, ‘but I’d like to investigate Lacey a little more. All I want to do is visit his home and take a look around. You won’t even know I’ve been there.’

  Boateng gave me a long look. ‘We’ve been through his house with a fine toothcomb. It was one of the first things we did after his death. I’m sure you’re aware of normal procedure, even though you work in Supernatural Squad.’

  His mention of my position in Supe Squad was deliberate, to remind me that now they no longer suspected a supe of being involved, I didn’t have a legitimate interest in either killing.