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Doomed Cases Box Set: The Complete Collection Books 1- 4 & Prequel

Page 21

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz


  Instead I listened to the voice of reason and used the back door to disappear. Part of me wished that things were different, that I could just vanish from this world and start somewhere else. I began walking home, disoriented, cold, and worried that I just made a new enemy. There was always a price for magic, but tonight I was still free. George couldn’t have been lost; his soul was in the city. Alexis was wrong.

  It was late when I finally reached my flat, sometime after five a.m. My whole body was shattered, head banging. The truth was that I could have taken a taxi home, but I was skint and it would cost me a fortune to get from one side of the city to the other. There was also the possibility that Ricky could have picked me up, but then I would have to tell him what happened and why I was stranded in the middle of North London with half of my energy missing.

  As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out, and nothing was going to wake me up then.

  I stirred myself awake and shot up on my feet, waking from a nightmare. Sweat rolled down my cheek. I recognised my own messy bedroom and the clock on the wall indicated that it was quarter past nine. Bile rose in my throat, and I ran to the bathroom. Before I knew it, I was throwing up. My stomach revolted, as memories from the night before rolled in front of my eyes. My body’s temperature was up, and my hands were trembling. When I was done with emptying my stomach, I rolled over to the cold tiles, breathing hard, hoping to rest a little. There was something wrong with me. My heart rate was up, pounding loudly in my chest. The effects of magical tequila were wearing off, and I hadn’t drunk anything in the past forty-eight hours. Maybe my body was trying to tell me that it was time to refuel.

  Fortunately for me, the symptoms had gone an hour later, and the headache eased off. In the shower I started analysing all my mistakes and that eventful hearing in the wasteland. The prince was gone. He was so hooked on advanced charms that he wasn’t lucid any longer. The lab in Jessica’s apartment confirmed that a demon, possibly within Lucifer’s faction, was rebelling against Hell’s rules. Someone was planning to use the prince’s blood to create Second Chance potion—an illegal substance that brought power and strength beyond the norm. And if the rumours were to be believed, it made a mongrel a full demon. I wasn’t getting four when I was adding two and two, and I needed to figure out if Rodriguez was part of the scam. Something just wasn’t right about him.

  I hadn’t had much sleep at all, and I looked pale. Too bad, I needed to get to the office and talk to Ricky. There was a lot that happened in the past few days, and I needed to figure out what was important. It was cold this morning, so I tucked my jacket tighter, walking fast through the crowded streets of grey London.

  Inside the building where our Doomed Cases office was, I sensed three demons upstairs. Two more than I expected. So I sped up, wanting to see what was going on.

  “Identity yourself, mongrel,” barked the demon who guarded the entrance to my floor. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I was ready to explode, anger blurred my vision. This was my fucking business and the faction had no authority to tell me what to do. The craving for tequila burned my throat. The energy built in me again, and I was ready to kick some arse.

  Emma was anxious and scared. Demons behind these doors should have known that a human being was with them, but they didn’t bother to ease her fears. Someone was going to pay, and today I was too pumped with adrenaline to think rationally.

  “I’m the owner of Doomed Cases; who the hell are you?” I asked, raising my voice. The demon from Mammon’s faction was bigger, scarier, and much more important than me. He lifted his hand, probably to use his power against me, but I wasn’t having any of it. Well, the dude didn’t stand a chance. I grabbed his elbow, twisted it, and smashed his face into the wall, pushing my whole body weight into his back. He moaned—yeah, the dude actually moaned—and my head only began pounding more rapidly.

  “Fucking mongrel, you have two seconds to let me go or I’m going to report you to Mammon himself!” the big, stupid idiot shouted. Then the door of my office opened up abruptly, and I turned around to see who I needed to deal with this time around.

  The demon who stood in the doorway looked like a samurai from fifteenth century Japan. I was completely startled by his attire. He was dressed in a yukata, which was a less decorative version of a kimono, and had what looked like a katana, a short Japanese sword, hanging over his left hip. I could guess he had Japanese heritage, but with cosplay, who knew? He had very dark short hair and startling brown eyes that most likely seduced women with one wink. Badarse, that was the first thing that came to my mind when I laid my eyes on him.

  “Dominic, can you be anymore pathetic? I told you to keep an eye on the door, and instead you’re getting beat up by a woman—no offence, Max,” the Asian dude said, with some sort of twisted amusement in his eyes. He had a very clear London accent, almost perfect. If I’d heard him on the radio, I would never say that he wasn’t British.

  “None taken,” I muttered.

  I frowned but didn’t let go of the other demon who was now trying to conjure his power against me. He was all about the muscles, not brain.

  “This fucking mongrel wanted to get inside. She should be locked up. Psycho!” he shouted, trying to get away from my grip, but I was having too much fun humiliating him in front of his boss.

  “Language, Dominic. There are other humans inside this building, and we don’t have time to play with their minds, too,” the Asian dude stated, keeping his sharp gaze on me. I kicked the disruptive demon between his legs and then let go. He slid down the wall, cursing me out.

  “Am I allowed to go inside my own office now? Or is that too much to ask?”

  “We were actually hoping that you would show. Mammon’s faction has questions for you, and it’s going to be easier if you come inside. Dominic, stay here and try to act like a human for a change,” the Asian man barked.

  I nodded to the Asian dude and walked inside, passing the useless demon who was glaring at me with pure hatred. Inside, Ricky was going through some paperwork. Files were scattered all over his desk. His face was red, and he looked genuinely pissed off. Emma was on her laptop, typing furiously. The Asian dude must have done something to calm her down, because she seemed much more like herself now than a moment ago.

  “So can you tell me what the hell is going on, and why Mammon is suddenly so interested in my business?” I asked, placing my hands on my hips, thinking that this had to have something to do with last night and that bitch Alexis.

  “My name is Cyril. I’m the senior investigator for all factions in this district. I had a phone call last night. Someone warned me that you’re using this office to conspire against Lucifer and his order. Apparently, your staff is encouraging other mongrels to start an uprising. We were bound to investigate,” Cyril explained, in a stoic voice, like this whole thing was perfectly normal.

  “What? That’s absurd,” I said, not believing that this was really happening.

  “Apparently you’re using this agency as a cover, to gather resources and reach out for more people,” Cyril added, stroking his sword. Emma seemed completely oblivious to this conversation. Cyril must have filled her system with a certain charm, so she could only hear what appeared to be a normal conversation about taxes or something.

  Ricky snorted from his office but didn’t say a word. He knew that these accusations were ridiculous.

  “Listen to yourself, mate. Do you really believe that I have something against the system or Lucifer? Demons and mongrels come to me because no one else cares. The police won’t help them, and I have no interest in Lucifer and his business on Earth whatsoever. Check all the files. You can go through every single case that I ever worked on,” I said, angry and frustrated at that point.

  “Personally, I don’t think there is anything like that going on here, but your recent case brought some concerns. I was bound to investigate, to make sure that you follow the protocol like every other mongrel born on Earth,” he said, still sta
ring at me intensely, like he wasn’t fully convinced that I wasn’t hiding anything.

  Royals, of course. My reputation had preceded me. There was only one Maxine Brodeur in London who screwed the future king. People downstairs must have found this hilarious.

  “Well, carry on. I have work to do,” I said, and walked off, heading to my office.

  As it turned out, Cyril had a few other idiots with him to go through all our files. Emma was very keen to show them around, so that kept him busy for the next several hours. Finally, when the whole party was moved to the storage on the next floor up, Ricky exhaled with relief, flopping on the chair in front of me. There were so many things that I needed to discuss, but I had no idea where I was supposed to start. Alexis wanted me to back off this case, claiming that she had direct orders from Lucifer, and now we were accused of conspiring against the underworld.

  “Strange rumours are going around the streets, very concerning,” Ricky said, rubbing his forehead. I meant to talk to him about the case that he had taken on recently, but things got in the way.

  “What’s going on now?” I asked, thinking about my next step. There was no way I was going to drop looking for the prince, just because a demon told me so.

  “Demons are saying that the prince is in Hell and that Lucifer has lost control,” he whispered, leaning over. “And this whole investigation. Someone wants to bury us. And the case.”

  I swallowed hard, seeing fear in Ricky’s eyes. I knew that he was right. Too many things had happened, and now we had some investigator going through our files, telling us that we were conspiring against the master of the underworld. We were running out of time and I no longer knew who to trust. Ricky was right—someone was working very hard against me, hoping that I would drop the case and forget about missing Prince George. And I was ready to do just that.

  Chapter 23

  “Fate's arrow, when expected, travels slow.”

  ― Dante Alighieri, Paradiso

  “I saw the prince with Zach last night at the cemetery. He was with the missing hooker. These rumours aren’t right, Rick. George is still in London, and whoever is spreading this story is hoping that we give up and forget about the case,” I pointed out, looking at the door. “We went to that hooker’s apartment and someone had set up a lab there. She couldn’t have known how to brew the Second Chance potion. The prince is the key to all that.”

  Ricky was worried about our future. He didn’t want to leave his life in London behind and start over somewhere else. We were both in the same boat.

  Normally Watchers dished out the punishment before they asked any questions. I was obligated to answer to Rodriguez, who wanted me to find George quietly, but I still didn’t trust him. Lucifer couldn’t afford to lose control over his own demons. There were most likely many who wanted things to change. Maybe that’s why the prince went missing in the first place, so he would be used as a bargaining tool in the upcoming election in Hell.

  “What happened after that?”

  “Nothing. Things went tits up, and he disappeared,” I admitted and then stood up. “I need to shut myself in the office and make a few phone calls before Zach gets here.”

  “So you didn’t play poker last night?” Ricky asked.

  “Poker? No, I was working for a change, trying to get the faction off our backs,” I told him, thinking that it’d been long enough since I tasted tequila. Maybe tonight if I made any progress, but Ricky didn’t need to know that.

  I didn’t want him to leave Cyril alone for too long. He was still nosing around our cases on the other side of the building. I knew that my partner was anxious about our missing prince, his future, and the fact that I wasn’t stable enough to carry on with this work on my own. He wanted to keep his life away from faction business.

  My only other lead was the waitress who called the office yesterday, and I needed to track her down. She would most likely lead me to her friend and then to the prince. There was a reason that the prince was in the cemetery last night. He was digging a grave, searching for someone who must have died recently, but why? I had a feeling that I was working against a very powerful- and power-hungry demon who had nothing to lose but a lot to gain.

  I went back to my own office and collected a protection elixir that I used sometimes when I was challenged by unknown powers, then locked the door.

  Months ago, when my mind wasn’t so screwed, I brewed a few useful potions. Some of them were good for a fight, some were useful in situations like today’s, but I was running low on stock.

  It was time to start getting in touch with people who owed me favours. Zach was probably curing his own hangover today, just like I had been yesterday, so I had some time to figure out my next step.

  Eventually Cyril packed his stuff and left with his people. He slipped his card down on my desk and told me that he might be in touch again. Around five, I received a phone call from Rob. He lost quite a lot of money in a poker game with me a couple of months back and then tried to do a runner. He didn’t get far, and after a long night of bargaining, I eventually let him go. We started working together after that. I said that I would forget about his debt if he helped me out sometimes tracking people down who didn’t want to be found. My knowledge of technology was limited, and Rob was a computer hacker during the night.

  Rob checked Jessica’s background and told me she lived alone, and she didn’t have any family. He managed to get me the address of a hotel in Shoreditch. Apparently, that was where the waitress had called from the last time I had spoken to her.

  When I left the office later on in the evening, the guilt settled in. Zach had gone through a lot and he was still searching for the truth. There was no doubt that he was guided by his own beliefs. We could never be in a relationship (not like I was counting on it) because of who I was, someone between a human and a demon.

  I took the tube to Shoreditch High Street station and then walked for about ten minutes to the hotel. My feet were sore from yesterday, but my head was clearer. Zach could have died in the cemetery. I exposed my world and risked a lot more than just my skin.

  The girl who asked me to check on her friend had called from a five-star hotel. The building had gone through an extensive renovation six months ago, and now the new hotel attracted people from all over the world. Natasha was hiding, and she wouldn’t be stupid enough to go back to her home address. This was the only other place where she could have been staying, probably with someone who was covering her expenses.

  Inside, the entire lobby was covered with white tiles, tall black desks, and pretty receptionists. There was a fireplace along the wall that created an electric flame effect. All the staff were wearing matching uniforms. There was a large bar at the back, so I headed there first. It was still early, so many people were sitting alongside the window, reading their papers. There was nothing out of the ordinary going on, and these humans as usual, were oblivious to the noise and busy road outside.

  I sat in the corner of the bar and looked around. Rob had given me the address of the club where she was last registered for work. Natasha hadn’t shown up for her shift for a good few days and her boss was ready to fire her. I got what I needed from him, which was her most recent photo. The trip across the city was uneventful, and without Zach breathing down my neck, everything was going more smoothly than usual.

  “Hey, handsome, can I ask you a question?” I asked the barman when he came to take my order. He was very young, possibly only nineteen or twenty. He was thinking about the older lady who flirted with him yesterday in the afternoon. I had to shut down my demonic abilities and concentrate on my tasks. The girl was somewhere in this hotel, and she was the only other person who could lead me to the missing Prince George.

  A blond with nice blue eyes smiled at me, glancing over my colourful highlights. I didn’t fit into the shiny surroundings, wearing my second-hand brown leather jacket that kind of made me look like a badarse.

  “That’s depends on the question,” he said, le
aning over. I took the picture of the girl from my side pocket and put it on the bar, itching to order tequila. My taste buds could already imagine the sharp, woody taste moving down my throat, spreading over my system. God, there was really something wrong with me. I had made too many bad decisions whilst drunk. Maybe I had to stay away from the yellow liquid until this evening.

  “Have you seen this girl? I know she is in this hotel, but I’m more interested in knowing who she is hanging around these days.” I said, touching his hand and sending snips of electric power over the surface of his skin. The small dose of energy could make him talk more than usual, and I needed to know everything before I headed upstairs.

  Brandon (he had a name tag) stared at the picture for a long while with a frown. His thoughts started racing all of a sudden, and he scratched his head like he wasn’t sure if he had seen the girl here. I glanced around, thinking that someone was watching us, but all the humans were minding their own business. After a long moment, his face brightened up.

  “Yes, I have seen her around here. She is very pretty. Comes in late in the evening and orders a cocktail,” Brandon blurted out.

  “What room number? And was she alone?” I pressed.

  “She was in the company of a woman and an older man. They were staying in the penthouse suite on the top floor, in the most expensive part. Prince George stayed there once a couple of months back,” he continued with a wink. I only encouraged him to talk, but it seemed that his tongue was already loose.

  “Thanks, handsome, you were helpful,” I said, smiling and leaving a five-pound tip on the bar. I wanted to order a damn shot, but a strong voice of reason shut the temptation down pretty quickly. The craving was loosening up my focus.

 

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