Deadhead (Damned Girl Book 1)

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Deadhead (Damned Girl Book 1) Page 18

by Clare Kauter


  “No,” he said, looking down at the ground. He set his jaw before continuing through clenched teeth. “Things didn’t go quite to plan. Jon and Patty decided to hide the Doomstone from me. Not very well, in hindsight, but I couldn’t find it. I’d heard on the grapevine that you had some… talents. I decided I could use them.”

  “What did you hear? From whom?”

  “Don’t get side-tracked, now. We’re talking about me.”

  I rolled my eyes, but didn’t press him for details. I doubted he’d tell me anyway.

  “So you asked me to solve your murder, hoping I’d somehow lead you to the Doomstone along the way?”

  “Yes.”

  “Seems a little sloppy.”

  “I know, I know; it wasn’t ideal. I had to improvise when things went awry. But hey, it all worked out in the end. I tried to find it myself, of course. Jon proved surprisingly” – he paused – “uncooperative.”

  I shuddered a little, remembering how illusive Jon’s spirit had been. What had Ed done to Jon to make him so terrified even in the afterlife?

  “Why did you steal the Encyclopaedia from me?”

  “I’m sorry about that – I promise I’ll return it. I just didn’t want you to read it too soon.”

  “But you wanted me to find the stone. Why try to stop me?”

  “I wasn’t trying to stop you from finding the stone. I was making sure you didn’t read about it too early on and figure it out.”

  “Figure what out? There was next to zero information in that book.”

  He looked at me in disbelief. “Really? It led you right here.”

  “Yes, but that wasn’t the book, that was the energy.”

  “Your energy was channelled by the book.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “You were concentrating so hard on the Doomstone that your energy manifested and led you here.”

  Right, well that cleared that up.

  “What, and you knew that would happen?”

  “I didn’t know what would happen. I just knew that I didn’t want whatever it was to happen too early.”

  “How could you possibly have known that the book would lead me here?”

  He frowned at me. Again. “You of all people must have sensed that this book has some powerful energy about it. You noticed it that day in my room. That’s probably why you noticed your copy was missing from your room so quickly.”

  Yes, that definitely wasn’t because I was going to use it to look up vampire AIDS.

  “You’re dead to me,” I said, before realising what a poor turn of phrase it had been.

  “I’m dead to everyone, precious. I’m a ghost. I am dead.”

  I rolled my eyes. He did not just call me ‘precious’. How had I ever stopped hating this creep?

  “I’ve just figured it out. You’re Hans!” I said.

  “What?” he asked exasperatedly. He looked mildly confused, but not so much that he wanted to find out what I meant. I explained anyway.

  “From Frozen! You just Hans-ed me!”

  “I’ve never seen it and I have no idea who or what that is.”

  Of course he hadn’t seen it. He clearly hated fun.

  “Oh, OK. Well, I don’t want to spoil it for you, but you’re definitely Hans. Although, that doesn’t really make sense, because that would make me Anna and I feel like I’m more of an Elsa at heart. Although, really, if I had to choose any Disney princess I’d want to be Tiana. She’s the least appreciated of the princesses – she worked so hard for everything and now you can’t even find any merchandise with her on it, or when you do the white princesses are in the foreground and she’s just at the back staring in through a window. Not cool, Disney.

  “Wait, I’ve gone off track. Where was I?” I said. I thought back to earlier when he’d dragged me out of the burning building. I’d accused him of being a Gryffindor. He’d denied it. Of course he had, that sly dog. It must have been one of those rare moments when he told the truth. I shook my head in disbelief. “You really are a Slytherin.”

  “Can you stop with all the references to children’s fiction?”

  “Fine,” I said. “You can just be the generic terrible villain that everyone hates.”

  “Oh, let’s not start slinging around labels.”

  “You killed two people! You nearly killed me!”

  “Firstly, I saw you kill four people today alone, and you told me you’ve murdered at least another two.”

  “They were all in self defence! And we don’t even know that the vampire died. And does it really count as killing someone if they’re already dead?”

  I was clutching at straws.

  “I don’t have time to go into the philosophy of life and death with you, dear, so fine. Let’s assume you didn’t kill the vampire. Your body count is still at five, which is more than twice mine.”

  “You’ve killed three people,” I corrected. “You killed yourself as well.”

  “Yes, but I had my consent, so that hardly counts. Besides, the numbers don’t matter. You and I have both killed to survive.”

  “You killed yourself to survive?”

  He grinned again. “Yes.”

  “And Patty and Jon? Did they really pose any threat to you?”

  “They stole from me.” His teeth were gritted again. Someone had a little anger management issue where his housemates were concerned. “I gave them all the money in that bank. All I wanted was the stone. And they hid it from me. I needed it and they wouldn’t hand it over.”

  “So you tortured Jon to find out where it was.”

  “Yes.”

  “And Patty?”

  “Oh, I just killed him to stop him talking to you.”

  “But you knew I could just contact his spirit…”

  “That’s why I had a word to him first, and explained his situation. How I could easily find him again, and how the next time wouldn’t be as pleasant as dying.”

  Pleasant? Gutting him alive was this guy’s idea of pleasant?

  “You’re a bit messed up.”

  “And you’re not?”

  I decided to ignore that question. Whether it was because it didn’t deserve a response or I was worried that he might be right, even I didn’t know. “Why me?”

  It was more of a rhetorical whine than a question, but Ed answered anyway.

  “Oh, Nessa. It had to be you.”

  “Nice try, but it’s a bit late to charm me.” I thought back to what he’d said before about how he’d heard about my ‘talents’ and decided to come to me. Something about that didn’t sit right… “You couldn’t have known The Department would assign me to your case for my quest. You were sent to me purely by chance.”

  “Oh, darling,” he said, shaking his head. “I have a bit of bad news for you on that front, I’m afraid.”

  “What?” I asked suspiciously.

  “I made it up. I was never your quest. I’d heard about you – about your ability to find things. I came to you hoping that you could recover the Doomstone for me.” He held up the crystal. “And you did! I just had to… mislead you a little.”

  I groaned loudly. Just my luck.

  “Of course. I should have known,” I said. “What do you mean ‘you heard about me’? Heard about me where?”

  “There are plenty of rumours flying around about you.” Boy, did I know it. I couldn’t see what they had to do with Ed, though.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Everyone wants to know what you are. That’s the only reason Daisy and Hecate agreed to help you. It’s why Henry wanted nothing to do with you. When Satan says that everyone is keeping something from you, that’s what she means.”

  “But Henry already told me that, the first day in the graveyard. You were there. He said he was having trouble classifying me or something. That’s no secret.”

  “The secret isn’t that people want to know what you are. It’s that they think they already know what you are.”

&nb
sp; I was getting sick of his elaborate unveiling. “What?”

  “From what I’ve seen, they could be right, but the thing is, darling, I can’t tell you.”

  I groaned. “Of course you can’t. Nothing can ever be that easy, can it?”

  “I can’t tell you because you have to prove it first.”

  “Oh, I have to prove what I might be before I even find out what that is?”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “Great. Well, thanks for clearing that up.”

  “I would tell you in a second my dear, but the prophecy forbids it, I’m afraid.”

  I groaned again.

  “Oh, of course there’s a fucking prophecy. What else does it say? ‘Neither can live while the other survives’?”

  He laughed. “Oh Nessa, no. I would never hurt you.”

  “You think I don’t pose a threat to you?”

  “Darling, I think that you and I pose a threat to the world.”

  “So…”

  “So we should join forces.”

  “Is this the part where you try to force me to marry you? Because you might not have seen Frozen, but I can think of a thousand other movies you probably have seen where the creepy guy who tries to force a girl to marry him ends up dead or worse.”

  “Oh, darling, I wouldn’t be so foolish. Of course I’m not going to try to force you to do anything. Even with the Doomstone in my possession, you’re far more powerful than I am. In time you’ll come to see that you and I belong on the same side, but for now I must bid you adieu. I believe the cavalry is on its way, and I have no wish to spill any more blood today.”

  Well, that was something I guess.

  “How are you going to get away? You said yourself that I’m more powerful than you. I’ll stop you!”

  “You know as well as I that you can’t control your power yet, and besides, my escape will be very swift.” He turned his head towards the heavens. “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.”

  I heard voices and crashing behind me as Hecate, Daisy and Henry burst out of the house and into the yard, just in time to see Ed disappear into thin air, still clutching the Doomstone.

  “Really, God?” I yelled up at the empty night sky. “You’re that desperate for followers?”

  The stars just twinkled back at me.

  Chapter 21

  Four days later I was still wearing the same set of pyjamas, which were stained with not only the ash from the burned house, but now also everything I’d eaten in the time I’d been wearing them. I’d passed the days since Ed’s betrayal and subsequent disappearance by moping about the house in various ways.

  You know, making a mopey cup of tea. Sulkily watching Pokémon re-runs. (I had to stop that fairly quickly, because every time Team Rocket came on I had an attack of guilt about the fact that I might have accidentally killed Jessie in Gladesta earlier that week.) Moodily lying in bed for roughly 18 hours each day thinking about the psychopathic murderer I accidentally made out with a few days ago.

  The same psychopathic murderer who had clouded two police officers’ and one government official’s memories to prevent me from being charged for murder and/or discovered for whatever I was. The crazed killer who had killed less people than me. The moron who, it turned out, was not at all cowardly – he had run into a burning building to save my life, and helped the others try to defend me in the forest.

  The forest… where he had helped an elderly woman get away from the grabbers when the rest of us had just run for our lives. What did that mean? What did any of it mean?

  He was evil. He was definitely the bad guy. He’d killed two people in cold blood! I’d only ever killed in self-defence. That made me better than him.

  Didn’t it?

  I’d never killed anyone intentionally. And yet Ed was right – I was building up quite the body count. Was it worse that I’d only ever killed people accidentally? Would it be better if it were premeditated?

  Were Ed and I both villains?

  The difference between us was not clear-cut enough for me to be comfortable. Perhaps we were the same sort of beast, and I just had less self-knowledge.

  Needless to say, when there was a knock upon my door, between the pyjamas and moping and existential crisis, I was not entirely sure that I was ready to face the world. Nonetheless, I squared my shoulders and opened the door.

  On the other side there was a gorilla holding a Tupperware container that appeared to be filled with cupcakes. This aspect of the outside world, at least, was one I could face.

  “Hi, Henry,” I said. “Come in.”

  “Thanks,” he said, and followed me back inside, putting the cupcakes on the kitchen counter. Wasting no time, I took one out and got stuck in. Mmm, hummingbird. (Meaning pineapple and pecan, not an actual bird, you freak.)

  “Delicious,” I mumbled, mouth full of half-chewed muffin. Henry managed to barely conceal his disgust.

  “I’ve got some bad news for you, Nessa,” he said, cutting straight to the chase. “I argued your case with The Department, but they still won’t accept Ed’s murder as your quest. They want you to do another one.”

  This week just kept getting better and better.

  “Oh, goody. After the last one went so well, I can’t wait to get started on the next!”

  Henry nodded and said sympathetically, “I know. I really am sorry.”

  I gave him one of those fake smiles you give someone to show that you’re not angry with them, but you’re still pissed off with your situation.

  “So what will it be this time? Have they told you yet? And have you triple-checked it’s legit?”

  “Believe me, I’ll never be making that mistake again. And yes, I’m sure this next quest is legitimate.” There was a knock at the door. “Ah, just in time.”

  Henry walked over to the door and opened it up. Outside, wearing his casual ‘no Grim Reaper here, no siree’ outfit of jeans and a T-shirt, was Death. He looked me up and down, but appeared to think better of saying anything about my appearance. He followed me back inside.

  “You coming along for the ride this time?” I asked.

  “I am indeed,” he said. “I’d rather die than miss it.”

  I groaned, but smiled a little.

  “What did I tell you about death puns?”

  “That you love them?”

  I rolled my eyes half-heartedly. “Are you actually going to help me out this time? Or just give me weird cryptic clues that I have to somehow decipher without knowing the most important facts of the case?”

  He smiled wryly. “Satan gave me very specific instructions not to tell you. I tried to help as much as I could.”

  “Telling me it wasn’t a real quest surely would have been a bigger help than just letting me have a go.”

  “Yes, but you managed it, didn’t you? Got there in the end. And with minimal casualties.”

  I shot him a sharp look. They were not the sorts of jokes to be making in front of Henry. Death, I suspected, had figured out that Ed was responsible for the clouding of Henry’s memory, and now he was enjoying toying with me.

  “It could have ended much worse,” said Henry in agreement.

  Death and I made eye contact. He raised his eyebrows.

  “Anyway,” I said. “On to the matter at hand. Quest attempt two.”

  Death and Henry both shifted slightly.

  “What?” I said. “Why are you looking so uncomfortable? What is it?”

  Henry cleared his throat. “The quest is to track down a fugitive… He’s been on the run for a while.”

  “On the run from what?”

  “From me,” said Death.

  “You can’t find someone? Wait – my quest is to help you kill someone?”

  Henry shifted and avoided eye contact.

  “It’s all above board.”

  “You’re turning me into an assassin?”

  “Oh Nessa, don’t be so dramatic,” said Death. “I just need you to find the guy. It’s not going to b
e particularly hands-on. I’m not asking you to do anything to him.”

  “He’s outlived his time,” Henry explained. “It’s sad, but it has to be done. He’s a criminal. We’ve just got to bring him in.”

  “Alright,” I said finally. “I guess bounty hunting seems alright. Much more fun than helping a psychopath take over the world.” Or whatever Ed had planned. He hadn’t been very specific on that front.

  “There is one thing we should tell you, though.”

  Oh, great. It was coming. The catch.

  “What?”

  “The guy we’re looking for,” said Death, “the one I have to kill…”

  “What about him?” I asked.

  “He’s kind of well-known. You’ve probably heard of him…”

  “Who is it?”

  “Now, promise me you won’t get –”

  “Who?”

  Henry busied himself with plating up cupcakes for us all and continued to avoid looking at me. Death took a deep breath before answering.

  “I need you to help me find Santa Claus.”

  The Story Continues In

  Sled Head: A Damned Girl Christmas Story

  OR

  Get The Next Three Books At A Discount In

  A Damned Girl Collection: Books 1-4

  Hey there, lovely reader!

  You’re looking mighty fine today. Have you done something with your hair?

  I’m here to ask you a massive favour. In return, you’ll receive my eternal love and affection...

  If you liked this book, will you please leave a review for me?

  OK, so you’ll get my eternal love and affection anyway, but I would appreciate it so much if you’d take the time to write just a sentence to let people know what you thought of the book. That way more people will be able to find it and read it, and I’ll be able to afford to pay rent. And eat. And boy, do I love to eat.

  Eternally, lovingly and affectionately yours,

  xx Clare

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