The Charms of Death

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The Charms of Death Page 3

by Richard Amos


  I turned to see Jake sitting on the porch steps, the goblin gone, shoulders slumped, staring into space.

  “You’ll get a numb bum,” I said, approaching.

  He looked up, his blue eyes snaring me with their intensity. “What are the chances that two people needed our help in one night? If the goblin had been looking for us, that is.”

  I took a seat next to him, my coat protecting my backside from the cold of the snow for the moment. “We still don’t know the facts. We can’t rule anything out.”

  Jake rested his head on my shoulder. “What if the goblin was put there?”

  I put an arm around him, fingers stroking the short dark hair at the nape of his neck.

  “We’ll figure it out, baby.”

  “It’s too cold for a naked goblin to go about the city unnoticed,” he continued. “People would notice.”

  “They would. I think him being dumped here is a safe assumption.”

  “But why? What does this have to do with us? You think it’s The Conclave? Why would they want to murder goblins to fuck with us?”

  “Because they’re cruel.”

  “Yeah, but it makes no sense. Guess that’s the point.”

  I pulled him closer into me as the man’s body was taken into the coroner’s van.

  “Do you think he’s human?” Jake asked.

  “Seems to be. You never know, though.”

  “Yeah.” He blew out a long breath, condensation curling in the night. “I hate that this shit has come to our house again. I feel compromised. Work should be at the office, not here.”

  We didn’t put any information anywhere about where we lived, but folk always seemed to find a way to track us down.

  “Do you want to move?” I asked.

  He sat up straight, turning to give me an appalled expression.

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Don’t look at me like that. I was being serious.”

  “And this ain’t my serious face?”

  I laughed gently again. “Well?”

  “Of course I don’t wanna move! Are you crazy? I love this house.”

  “It’s not a question about loving the house or not.”

  “Er, it is actually. I ain’t being driven from my home by no knobhead. We’ve built our life here, and we have the best neighbours ever. Well, maybe not them…” He paused and nodded to the neighbours on the other side—the snooty vampires. “Anyway, yeah. I’m not moving.”

  “I didn’t say we had to.”

  “I know you didn’t. You don’t give the orders around here, matey boy.”

  His face had reddened. “I think you overreacted a bit there.”

  He frowned. “No, I didn’t.”

  “You don’t need to be testy. I was just throwing it out there.”

  It took a moment for the regular alabaster shade of his complexion to return, and for his forehead to un-crease. “Because you’re thoughtful,” he said softly. “That’s so sweet of you.”

  “Oh, you don’t need to say that.”

  “I do. I’m a knob. I’m sorry. I get worked up about these things.”

  I tried not to laugh again. “Really? You? Get worked up? Never!”

  He shouldered me. “Cheeky sod.” His hand found mine, our fingers interlocking. “I’m telling you now, whatever all this shit is, we’re having that Valentine’s Day you were talking about not matter what.”

  “Determined, are you?”

  “Damn right I am.”

  “Me too.”

  “Good. Ugh.”

  “What?”

  “That poxy clay figures thing too.”

  “It’s looking like a busy month.”

  He stood. “I’m going in. You were right. My arse is friggin’ numb now.”

  “I’ll warm it up for you.”

  LUUK AND SOPHIE had left an hour ago. It’d just gone half one in the morning. Jake was asleep on the sofa beside me as I researched invisible entities on the Encyclopaedia of Species (EOS), via the Supernatural Eyes VPN, on my laptop, with another tab open for the Dossier of Supernatural Crimes (DSC)—a website for those with the codes to unlock it.

  I’d uploaded the pod prints, running a scan against the DSC files. It was halfway done. No results so far. It would only register prints belonging to a supernatural, the police’s scan trawling the human files.

  As for invisible creatures, the only thing I was getting were potions that weren’t commonly used nowadays on account of their deadly repercussions. Too much grief for a complicated magic which required, bizarrely, the scales of a ghost fish, and the eye of a black dragonfish. It didn’t say why, but there would be a lot of deep-sea diving involved to get those ingredients. I’d talk to Mila about it, though. She was an alchemist and may know more about this stuff, if there was actually a market for these potions regardless of the dangers. Just because there was this one man who’d melted his face off while invisible from taking the potion, eventually found when his rotting body had started to stink out his house, didn’t mean people wouldn’t still try it. Folk consumed pods, thinking they had healing properties. No. Wrong. Only bad things happened. Still, there was a whole movement of pro-pod idiots.

  Jake stirred, yawning his head off. Our daughter was still snoring away, completely oblivious to the horrors that’d taken place outside her home.

  Guilt. So much guilt. The moving idea I’d mentioned to Jake did have some serious truth to it. I loved our house too, but our lives were dangerous doing all this PIA stuff. I knew that and the guilt of putting Jake and Louise in danger gnawed at me every day. It also didn’t help that my mind went to some dark places, conjuring up scenarios in which I’d lose them to awful deaths—all because of me. Mila’s Calm Elixirs helped with this extreme version of OCD, but not with the guilt.

  In an ideal world, I’d whisk them both away to somewhere hidden and safe. But where would that be? The world was overrun with pods thanks to the supernatural council messing everything up. They couldn’t be outrun.

  And I had a past to make up for.

  “Shit,” Jake said sleepily. “What time is it?”

  I told him.

  “It is?”

  “Yes. We should go up really.”

  “Yeah. Need bed.”

  “Just letting this print scan run first.”

  “Find anything?” he asked.

  “Not yet.”

  Jake let out another huge yawn.

  “Go up, baby. I won’t be long.” His eyelids were heavy. “Unless you want to stay down here?”

  “No way. The mattress is calling. See you in the morning.” He slowly got to his feet. “Once my head hits that pillow, I’m gone.”

  “Goodnight, Jake.”

  “Night.”

  With a quick kiss, he was gone.

  THREE

  JAKE

  “And now I can name all of Jupiter’s moons, Daddy. Without looking. I’m not joking.” Lou looked up at me expectantly as I scrambled some eggs on the stove.

  “Go on, then.”

  “There’s seventy-nine.”

  “You what?”

  “But fifty-three with names.”

  “Okay. Off you go, then.”

  “Callisto, Ganymede…”

  Lou had been up since six—half an hour after me. My brain wouldn’t let me kip much in the end. It was now half six, the morning still dark. The snow had come down hard overnight, laying it on thick.

  “Europa…”

  Her obsession with space also meant she had a favourite planet. I mean, don’t we all? I was quite partial to a bit of Neptune myself. I’d once told Dean I loved Uranus—thinking I was hilarious. To me it was funny!

  Lou loved Jupiter. She found it the most fascinating place in the universe, full of hope that one day there’d be a chance to visit it. Was good to have dreams, even about holidays on gas planets.

  Thank God there weren’t seventy-nine names though. I loved her enthusiasm, but mine wasn’t quite up there yet. Few more cupp
as would fix it.

  Normality was good. It meant she was oblivious to the bollocks that’d gone on out in the big, bad world neither of us could fully protect her from but took it as a win when the shields were working.

  Lou reeled off a few more and was done, timing it perfectly with me dishing up the scrambled eggs and toast.

  “Well done,” I said. “Clever girl. Your brain is so big.”

  That made her frown at me. “My head isn’t big, Daddy.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way. I said your brain was big. I meant you’re clever.”

  “Oh.” She started feeling her skull with the cutest paranoia. I supressed cracking up at her because it ran the risk of setting her off.

  “Come on,” I announced, taking things in a breakfasty direction. “Grub time.”

  Checking her skull forgotten, Lou’s mouth stretched into a happy grin. Scrambled eggs on toast was one of her favourite wake-up foods. Not that she needed waking up. Blimey! Talk about being full of beans.

  I sat with her, not hungry. Partially because of last night, and partially because sometimes I just wanted a liquid breakfast of the hot variety to get me through the morning—especially when running on hardly any sleep.

  I’d have to wake Dean soon. He’d have got less kip than me. God knows what time he’d rocked into bed. Hadn’t noticed, but he was there when I woke up, sleeping deep. He did that—pulled all-nighters. It worried me sometimes, but when he got something in his head it was best to let him run with it.

  “You’ve got spellings today,” I said.

  Lou nodded, stuffing some egg in her mouth.

  “Then maths this afternoon.”

  She swallowed her food. “I know, Daddy. Sad you won’t be here for it.”

  “I know, sweetie.” Crap! That hurt! “Remember you’ve got your special day with Papa tomorrow, though.”

  “I looking forward to it.”

  I loved those mistakes in her speech because it anchored her back into being a four-year-old. She could name all the moons she wanted. Lou was still our little girl.

  It was her birthday next month—March. Five. Five! How the hell did that happen? Seemed like five minutes ago we were doing bottle feeds, changing nappies, not five years ago. Ugh. Bollocking time and it needing to slam its foot down on the pedal.

  Slow down, knobhead!

  No special day for me, though. I’d be holding the fort at the offices of Jake & Dean Investigations. Dean did that a lot, and he needed a break. He’d tried protesting, but I’d told him tough shit, get over it. This was a partnership, not all on him with me drifting in and out when I could. Yeah, I’d rather be at home with Lou doing the schooling and all the homely things, but that would be neglecting my duty as Dean’s partner.

  I couldn’t do that.

  If I was honest, there was a conflict going on inside me. The events at Crimbo had brought all thoughts closer to the surface. But that was stuff I wasn’t gonna think about, or voice. It wasn’t fair. I had to push it down or I’d lose it. And I wasn’t about to give in to my fears.

  “Do you want to move?”

  “You want some more?” Lou had cleared her plate.

  “Yes please, Daddy.”

  “No worries. I made loads.”

  As I got up, I checked the clock. It was approaching 06:45. Soph would be here soon. Time to wake up Dean. Maybe I shouldn’t have left him to sleep so long. Lou thanked me as I popped the second helping of food before her.

  Footsteps and there he was, standing in the kitchen doorway, immaculate in black jeans and a gray jumper, his hair slicked back and him smelling fresh out the shower.

  Blimey. Wish I had those kinds of get-ready skills. He didn’t look the slightest bit knackered. I know I did.

  “Papa!” Lou cried with her mouthful, egg spraying all over the table.

  I let her have that one on account of her being excited about seeing her papa. But only the one. Table manners mattered.

  “Good morning, darling.” He sat down with her. “How are you?” She started to talk, and he stopped her. “Finish that mouthful first.”

  I’ve never seen anyone chew so fast. “I told Daddy about Jupiter’s moons.”

  “What about them?”

  I brought him over some eggs and a cup of coffee. He liked it black, nothing else.

  Hardcore.

  I took a seat too, now on my second cup of tea and Lou started naming the planets again.

  Dean was totally enraptured with her. He listened patiently to every word, letting her take her time when she got tangled up on a few of the names. It was adorable on so many bloody levels. I could watch the pair of them all day.

  She was the spitting image of her dad but had the dark curly hair of her mum—which was wild at the moment. It was a fucker to brush. Always me who did it. I had the skills for getting the knots out, and the authority to make her sit still. I always won every battle, no matter how much she tried to get the upper hand.

  “Daddy?” Lou said to me.

  “Yeah?”

  “Why you drinking from that cup?”

  “What do mean?”

  “Where’s your favourite one? Lord Ring?”

  I laughed. “Lord of the Rings?”

  She giggled. “Silly me!”

  “I broke it.”

  “Another one?”

  “Yep.”

  “Blimey.”

  I’d just taken a gulp of tea, which went the way of the eggs she’d sprayed, and up my nose. I coughed and spluttered while laughing at the same time, which set her off in a fit of giggles.

  Dean patted my back, laughing too. “You two are crazy.”

  I got up for a cloth and to regain some dignity. Yeah, that’d gone out the window years ago.

  “Why do I always end up with tea down me?” I rubbed at the fresh stain down the front of my hoody. “That’s what I get for wearing white.”

  Dean went for a sympathetic look and failed. “I thought you liked the stained look. Suits you.”

  “What the fuck?” I winced at the same time as him. Oops!

  Lou immediately pointed at me. “Euro in the swear box!”

  Bollocks. “Yeah, I know. And don’t point.”

  “Sorry, Daddy.”

  “Yeah, well. Blame Papa for being rude.”

  “I wasn’t rude.” Dean held up his hands.

  “You were, Papa. You dissed Daddy’s fashion.”

  “See?” I said. “Our daughter knows how it is.”

  Dean offered me a cheeky grin. “I’m being punished for being honest.”

  “Do you want me to stick your face in those eggs?”

  “Mercy!” He then burst into laughter which Lou joined in with.

  “Wind-up merchant.”

  “You’re too easy, baby.” He took me by the hand and kissed my knuckles.

  “I’m off to change before Soph—” The doorbell rang. “That’s her.”

  I left the pair of them to their giggling and answered the door—double-checking it was Soph and not some fucker out to get me. She had a key but didn’t like to use it unless she had to. Privacy and all that.

  “Hey,” I greeted her, cold air rushing in. “Holy fuck! Get in here quick. That’s one cold bastard out there.”

  “I heard that!” Lou called from the kitchen.

  I lowered my voice. “That’s the second time in five minutes.”

  Sophie closed the door behind her. “You’ll be broke soon.” She removed her coat and hung it on the rack. “But you’re right, it’s terribly bitter outside.”

  “Want some eggs and coffee?”

  “I’d love some. Thank you. What happened to your clothes?” She eyed up my front.

  “Tea incident.”

  “Again?”

  What the friggin’ hell? Where had this rep as me being into spilling crap down myself come from?

  “Yeah, well.”

  I led her into the kitchen, Dean and Lou greeting her as I put on some toast.r />
  “Oi, joker,” I poked my fiancé in the back of the head. “Keep an eye on the grill. I’m gonna change.”

  “Of course, my beloved.”

  “You want tea down you too?”

  “There’s no need for violence, light of my life.”

  “See what I have to live with, Soph?”

  “You cannot excuse him of lacking in chivalry,” she replied.

  “Is that what you call it?”

  “Yes,” Dean cut in. “She’s right.”

  “Don’t let the toast burn,” I said, leaving them giggling.

  “NOW YOU MAKE sure to do all your spellings for Sophie.” Dean had Lou in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder.

  There’d been some tears, but she’d calmed down, still a bit sniffly. I wiped her red eyes gently with a tissue, then her nose.

  “Okay, Papa.”

  “Then tomorrow we can have some fun.”

  “Down to business today,” I added, “like we said.” I pushed a curl out of her face. “Tonight we can play some games. Yeah?”

  She nodded, having a sniff. “Down to business.”

  “That’s right.”

  Soph kept her distance, waiting in the living room. This was a familiar pattern, a horrible bloody pattern we had to face a lot. Had to be steady in the storm, no matter how much it tried to lob you out of the boat.

  “We’ve got to go,” Dean said. “Big day of business for Daddy and Papa too.”

  “We all got business,” she responded.

  “Yes, darling. If you went to an actual school, you’d be going there now anyway. So think of it like that.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  Dean put her down, crouching down to her level. “We love you very much.”

  I joined them. “Very, very much.” We gave her a hug at the same time.

  “Daddy?” she whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you pay the swear box?”

  FOUR

  DEAN

  “Maybe we shouldn’t do the Valentine’s Day thing,” Jake announced.

  We turned onto Oudezijds Achterburgwal, making the short walk from our house on Blauwebeergracht, a stretch of canal near Keizersgracht. Our bikes wouldn’t handle the deep snow, so we’d decided to trudge to work. Normally it took around ten minutes. Today it took twenty.

 

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