Raven
Book 1 in the Raven Series
By Heather Atkinson
Copyright Heather Atkinson November 2017
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to my lovely husband Paul and my beautiful children, Charlotte and Sophie. Also thanks to my mum Stephanie and my sister Suzanne for their support and input.
I would also like to say thank you to the very talented Valdas Miskinis for the fantastic cover design.
Last but certainly not least, many thanks to you the reader for supporting my work and purchasing my book. I do hope you enjoy it.
CHAPTER 1
Nino loved to bite ears. It had been an obsession ever since he’d got into a playground scrap when he was nine and had bitten a classmate’s tender right ear. Now he couldn’t get enough and at thirty two years of age his obsession had led to ten arrests and a total of eight years spent behind bars for GBH. However, he’d managed to dodge being nicked after the last assault he’d committed, due to the fact that he’d bit the arresting officer’s ear and fled.
Now he was on the run.
For four days he’d evaded all attempts to capture him but England was a small country and it was only a matter of time before he got caught. He smiled inwardly as he recalled the feel of the copper’s ear between his teeth, the crunch as he bit down on cartilage, the screaming, the taste of blood in his mouth. It had been worth it. But this time he’d assaulted a police officer and he knew he was looking at extra jail time just for that fact. If only he knew someone who could get him a false passport so he could leave the country. He had known an excellent forger when he was inside but as Nino had bit his ear he didn’t think he’d be doing him any favours. So all he could do was stay free for as long as possible. As he’d been born and bred in Liverpool he’d come home to the city after spending a few years in Halifax. It was a bit of an obvious move but he was comfortable here and he knew it like the back of his hand, giving him plenty of places to hide.
He stalked the streets, the sense of unease that had dogged him for the last day weighing heavier on his shoulders. He was sure someone was following him. A couple of times when he’d looked over his shoulder he’d seen a tall, slender figure swathed in black. Whether they were male or female, he hadn’t been able to tell. Neither were the features of their face visible. But he was absolutely certain they were following him. There was a reward for information leading to his capture. What if they were after the bounty?
He descended into the subway station at Liverpool Central, smiling to himself. Where he intended to go his stalker wouldn’t dare follow.
Keeping his head down, he wound his way through the maze of people waiting to get onto the trains but they paid him no heed, too focused on getting to wherever they were going as quickly as possible.
Leaving behind the bustle and noise, he leapt over a barrier into a defunct part of the station, heading into a twilight maze of disused tunnels, populated by large rats and the forgotten of society.
The darkness closed in around him as he made his way down the gloomy tunnel. Shapes huddled against the walls either side of him, pinched white faces lit up by the flare from the odd small fire. Others were no more than shapeless sleeping bags, matted hair poking out of the top. Nino, due to his enormous size and intimidating appearance, walked fearlessly wherever he went but down here he was nervous, not because he was afraid of an attack but because this could so easily be him one day - a cast off wreck of humanity with nowhere better to go than a manky old train tunnel the rest of the world had forgotten about. In fact it could be the fate of anyone, even those scurrying about in the working tunnels, too consumed by the pettiness of daily life to realise a whole other world existed around them composed of those rejected by society, abandoned and left to starve. All it took was one bad business deal, a drink or drug addiction, a crippling divorce, exposure to domestic violence where life on the streets was preferable to abuse or another cruel government cut and the ranks would be swelled. Being on the run had opened Nino’s eyes. He was wanted by the police but his life was better than these people’s.
He continued deeper into the depths, past more huddled figures. An enormous rat scampered across his foot before merging with the darkness. Two wild-eyed men regarded him with intense gazes as he went by but he stared back at them until they looked away. Someone in this tunnel had once been foolish enough to mess with him and after what he’d done to that bastard they’d all left him alone ever since. Their lives were hard enough without coping with only one ear.
Down here represented sanctuary to Nino. It was the place he came to when he felt the desperate urge to breathe again, to be without the crushing worry of being caught, just for a little while.
Glancing over his shoulder, ice filled his veins when he saw that tall, relentless figure several feet behind him, casually making their way through the tunnel. Most disturbingly, their gaze was locked on him, ignoring the crouching shadows lining the walls.
Nino broke into a jog, anxious to reach the other side of the tunnel, which would lead him outside. This tunnel no longer represented sanctuary. In fact it felt more like a prison, the pinched faces peering at him turning demonic, the walls closing in…
He tripped over something and down he went, landing on all fours in the muck and dust. A bony hand clamped down on his left wrist, attempting to remove his watch.
“Get off,” he cried, wrenching his arm free.
Looking back he saw the figure was even closer and panic surged through him, his heart pounding, skin breaking out in a cold sweat. He was so afraid he didn’t bother to punish the creature wrapped in blankets who had tried to nick his watch. Instead he pelted down the tunnel, running even faster when he heard footsteps pursuing him. It was fortunate he’d spent a lot of time at the gym because it meant he wasn’t even out of breath when he burst through the door at the other end into an alleyway, wild-eyed and panicking, superstitious fear coursing through him. However, now he was back in daylight he felt a bit silly. No one came out of the tunnel after him. He’d let his imagination run away with him.
Pulling up the hood of his jacket, he stepped out into the street, blending in with the crowd, keeping his head down. Usually he felt so unsafe in crowds but after the tunnel it was a relief to be surrounded by people. Fortunately it was a rainy, chilly day and it was rush hour, so everyone was too concerned with getting home to bother with him.
He left behind the busy street and turned down a quiet, residential one lined with non-descript red brick terraced houses, some boarded up, others in an advanced state of decay. Music blared from the open window of one house, setting off the dog barking in the neighbouring house. Nino was grateful he occupied the ground floor of the house at the very end of the street, away from those noisy bastards. He might be an ear-munching psychopath but at least he had more consideration for his neighbours than those thoughtless sods.
Gratefully he stepped into his flat and shut the door, silencing the awful thumping music and the barking dog. He’d rented this place under an assumed name from a landlord who didn’t ask any questions. In the flat above lived a Lithuanian couple who couldn’t speak any English and who kept themselves to themselves, which was all the better for him.
He pulled off his jacket and tossed it onto the couch. It was only then he noticed the thick silver bangle around his left wrist, just above the watch.
“What the…”
His body jumped and jerked and he dropped to the floor, pain tearing through every muscle as he wondered what the fuck was going on.
There was a thud from the direction of the front door followed by a crack and a figure stalked into the room, standing over him. The only detail Nino could make out was that in one hand they held a small black device and their thumb was pressed
down on the red button.
When they released the button the agony in Nino’s body eased and his muscles unfurled themselves. Now he was no longer in pain he could get a good look at the intruder. It came as a surprise to see that the person who had finally got the best of him was in fact a woman, quite a pretty one at that, tall and willowy with long dark wavy hair and large dark eyes. She wore a long black wool coat and black jeans, her calves encased in thick biker-style boots, which were laced up the front to her knees. The disturbing thing about her was her air of complete calm. She was alone in a room with a man the police had warned the public not to approach because he was so dangerous, but she looked like she didn’t even care.
“You were so busy looking behind you, you forgot to keep an eye on what was ahead,” she said in a voice that told him she certainly wasn’t local. In fact it was hard to pinpoint where she was from. Nino recalled stumbling in that tunnel, the hand on his wrist. They hadn’t been after nicking his watch, instead they’d slapped this vicious bastard on him.
“As well as delivering a debilitating electric shock,” she continued. “It contains a tracking device.”
“Bitch,” he managed to slur, tongue thick in his mouth.
She knelt before him. “So you’re the one everyone’s been pissing themselves over? I’m unimpressed.”
When he made a clumsy grab for her with his right hand, the rest of his body refusing to cooperate, she pressed the button on the device and the agony gripped him once more.
“That’s for all the people you’ve maimed with your sick ear-biting antics,” she said as she released the button.
This time Nino couldn’t even reply, eyes rolling about in his head as she got to her feet and took out her phone. He could hear her quietly talking but was unable to make out the words, it sounded like she was miles away.
When she’d finished her call he was shoved onto his front, hands and feet quickly and efficiently bound together.
The woman sat on his couch, patiently waiting for whoever she’d called to turn up. Nino feared who she’d phoned. No way was she a copper, he could smell them a mile off and coppers didn’t slap torture devices on people’s wrists. He’d pissed off a lot of people over the years and he found himself hoping it was the police who turned up. At least they wouldn’t murder him and bury him in a shallow grave. He wanted to ask the enigmatic stranger, who regarded him with as much interest as she did the furniture, but he couldn’t speak properly, his body still recovering from the electric shocks.
When there was the sound of an engine outside, the woman got up to peer out of the window. While her back was turned Nino considered making his escape, the feeling finally returning to his limbs.
She must have read his thoughts because she didn’t even turn from the window as she pressed the red button again, Nino’s feet banging off the wooden floor with the force of his muscles spasming.
“Just to ensure you’re nice and compliant,” said the woman before removing the bracelet from his wrist and slipping it into the pocket of her coat seconds before the front door opened.
Nino held his breath, fearing who was going to walk in. He wanted to cry with relief when he saw it was the police.
“Get her away from me,” he wanted to say but the words came out in an unintelligible drawl, saliva dribbling from one corner of his mouth.
The lead officer looked to the woman. “What did you do to him Raven?” he said, a smile playing on his lips.
“Nothing permanent,” she casually replied.
“Shame,” he said, glaring down at Nino. “Thanks by the way. We’ve been after this bastard for a while.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You’ll have your fee paid by the morning.”
Nino realised she must be some sort of bounty hunter. He thought they were illegal in the UK. Or their antics were just kept from the public.
Raven nodded and stalked out, leaving Nino to the police, who gathered round him, staring down at him, furious about the maiming of their colleague.
She climbed into her black Nissan X-trail parked further up the street. Her line of work required a spacious motor. More than once she’d had someone trussed up in the back. Her vehicle was two years old. She could have afforded to buy something brand new, her work as a bounty hunter brought in very good money but everything about Raven was understated. Every decision she made, every action was designed to keep her under the radar, which was vital in her line of work.
Before starting the engine, she checked her phone. One missed call, so she phoned the caller back.
“I don’t expect to have a discussion with an answer phone,” said the icy voice on the other end.
“I was working,” she replied.
“My office. One hour.”
“Make that two,” she said, starting the engine. “I’m in Liverpool.”
“Fine, two. I have a job for you.”
Raven frowned at the phone when the dial tone sounded. She didn’t like the way Patrick Bryce spoke to her but he gave her plenty of work so she tolerated it.
She wrinkled her nose at the smell of herself. Crouching in that tunnel waiting for that big dozy sod to come along had taken its toll on her clothes.
She shuddered as she recalled all those lost faces, the stench of despair, as well as piss and faeces. Not too long ago that had been her life, fighting to exist in a similar hellhole. It was how she’d managed to blend in so well in the tunnel. However she’d been lucky, she’d been given an exit. The ravens had shown her the way.
CHAPTER 2
Before she could meet Patrick, Raven had to shower and change. She headed home to her lonely house in the middle of the Yorkshire moors, nothing but trees, open heath and sheep for miles. She wasn’t from Yorkshire originally but this was where she’d chosen to settle. She liked isolation. Raven didn’t have much tolerance for people.
Her home was a renovated barn, all on one level. She didn’t like upper floors, they were easy to get trapped on. From the outside the house looked old, in keeping with its seventeenth century tag but inside it was much more modern, decorated in sleek light green and grey, which Raven found very restful after a day spent chasing down scumbags. This house was her sanctuary but it was also a permanent and painful reminder. She’d bought it with her husband, the same husband who had been gone almost a year.
Determinedly she walked past the photos of him hanging on the walls and marched straight into the bathroom to take a shower. She stood beneath the hot spray, watching the rivulets of water pour down her arms, every inch of which were tattooed with black feathers, raven feathers. They covered her entire back too and feathered around her neck, touching the tops of her breasts, an homage to the ones who had saved her life.
She dried off and dressed in a fresh black wool jumper and jeans, tossing the clothes she’d worn in the tunnel into the furnace in the basement. It was early April, the weather outside still chilly and damp.
Raven jumped back in her car and she was walking into Patrick Bryce’s office an hour later.
Patrick glanced at the clock on the wall, disapproval in his eyes. “You’re four minutes late. I like all my visitors to turn up ten minutes before the allotted time.”
Patrick wasn’t a local boy either, he was originally from down south, an Essex wide boy made good and who now owned an empire that covered half the country. He’d conquered the south and was now working on the north, which was why he’d relocated his headquarters to Leeds. Part of his success was the willingness to do what his competitors wouldn’t, as well as his penchant for using professionals like Raven to remove all obstacles in his path. Although he was from Essex he’d polished his accent years ago. He had even started the rumour that he’d attended Oxford University, when in truth he’d been dragged up in a back street in Tilbury.
“I was busy,” she retorted, sliding into the chair opposite his desk.
“Nothing trivial I hope?” he said, leaning back in his chair and steepling his finger
s together, frowning over the top of them at her, his eyes almost as black as his hair. A dark blue shirt and immaculately pressed grey tailored trousers encased his tall, slender frame. He was a good looking man, although sometimes his mouth could appear pinched and cruel, his bad deeds reflected in his face.
“A bounty contract for the police,” she replied.
“Oh yes, do tell,” he said with a devilish grin. He always took an interest in her work, finding her stories entertaining.
“Have you heard of Nino Davies?”
“The man who likes to munch on ears?”
She nodded.
“You brought him down?”
Another nod.
“Impressive. I heard he’s very dangerous.”
“He’s still in a human body and everyone has a weakness.”
“Sometimes you have the most peculiar way of talking, as though humans are separate to you.”
“The stupid ones are.”
“And sadly there are plenty of those. So, you got your bounty?”
“Don’t I always?”
“True, which brings me to why I invited you here. There’s an inconvenient individual causing me trouble and I need him removed in your usual subtle manner.”
Raven had worked many bounty contracts for the police and she was highly respected among them. That would change if they found out about the other side of her work, the work that would land her in prison for life should it ever become public knowledge. But she went to great pains to ensure that would never happen. She liked working for Patrick because she knew he could be trusted to keep his mouth shut, he paid well and he used his considerable power to protect her from any blowback. However Raven’s speciality was making a hit look like death by natural causes. This wasn’t always the case. Sometimes the person hiring her wanted to send a bloody and violent message but Patrick loathed mess. Everything in his life was tidy and ordered, just like the desk he was sitting at and the freakishly neat office they were in.
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