Frankie gave a hollow laugh. “You said it yourself, Alex, you aren’t an investigator. Every piece of information we have so far has come from me, so good luck with that.”
“Frankie,” his voice pleaded with her to understand.
“No, Alex. If you and your new BFF want to ride around playing private eye, good luck to you but this isn’t a game to me.”
“You think I take this lightly?”
“I don’t know, Alex. I honestly don’t know what to think right now.”
“Please, try to understand that I’m worried about you. I’m doing this because… Because I care.”
“Fuck off. And don’t come crying to me when the trail goes cold.” She hung up.
Alex sighed and headed back to his apartment. She was beautiful, intelligent, courageous and utterly infuriating.
Knowing her phone was too valuable to smash, Frankie grabbed a cheap Ikea vase and threw it against the wall. The crash wasn't nearly as satisfying as she had hoped.
He was shutting her out of her own investigation! She couldn’t believe it! The dirty, rotten, lying, conniving, scheming bastard! No, the dirty, rotten, lying, conniving, scheming vampire!
Well, this wasn’t over yet, She would show him if it was the last thing she did.
Chapter Eleven
Frankie was fuming. Who the hell was he to think he knew what was best for her?
And to think, she was considering a relationship with him! Now that the idea of a relationship had been well and truly quelled, she could admit to herself that she had harboured those hopes. He was, after all, the only man she could even consider starting a physical relationship with. If only he wasn’t trying to control her. She had spent far too much of her life being controlled, she could never allow that to happen again.
Her rage almost gave way to tears and she squashed them firmly. She needed to get back to work. She still had leads she could follow up, after all. Good leads, in fact, thanks to a rather dead body full of her bullets.
She swiped at her wet eyes as she logged onto the computer to see if there were any reports online yet but as before, no information had been entered onto the police system, other than a case number.
Body snatching probably wasn’t a high priority, especially with a serial killer on the loose.
Usually in this situation she’d pull one of her fake government ID’s out and insinuate herself into the investigation, but what government department dealt with body snatching? DVLA? The Department of Health? The Treasury? The Audit Commission? She couldn’t see anyone believing that they were interested in this case.
She could use her own MI5 identification but stealth was paramount in her department. How could a stolen corpse relate to national security anyway?
All that left her with only one option; Will. He could find out about the case for her but she doubted he would do so without a damn good reason. Like the truth.
She had permission to reveal limited information to civilians once they had signed the Official Secrets Act, but was that really a step she wanted to take with Will? More importantly, even if she told him the truth, would he believe her? He’d need proof.
He hadn't phoned again and she hadn't tried to call him back. There was a damn good chance he’d just hang up on her after her antics of the last few days, and she would deserve it. Still, she had a job to do and if that meant she had to grovel, then she would.
When Will arrived at her house, all Frankie’s thoughts of grilling him for information vanished. He looked awful. He’d looked tired earlier when he’d come to Alex’s house but now he’d crossed over into exhaustion and only sheer willpower seemed to be keeping him on his feet.
“You look like shit,” she told him honestly.
Will didn’t look impressed with her honesty. “If you just dragged me out here for more games, I’m not playing.” He headed back to his car.
“Wait, no more games.”
He stopped and turned back.
“I promise.”
Will headed back into the house and after resetting the alarm, Frankie led him through to the kitchen.
“Coffee?”
Will nodded.
“When was the last time you slept?” she asked.
“I grabbed a few hours last night.”
“A few?” she questioned.
“Three.”
“You wouldn’t consider sleeping before we do this, I suppose.”
“No way. You’ve been hiding things from me since day one and I’m sick of it.” His voice sounded quiet with lethargy.
Frankie gave in and made him a strong, sweet coffee. If he was going to stay up for this, he needed to stay awake. They headed through to the living room and Frankie fetched a copy of the Official Secrets Act from her desk where she’d placed it earlier. Will settled on the sofa.
“You need to sign this first,” she told him. “If you tell anyone what I’m about to share with you, we’ll own your arse. Got it?”
“Will you tell me everything?” he looked the document over.
Frankie shook her head. “I can’t, I only have permission to share information relevant to the case I’m working on.”
“Good enough. For now.” He took out a pen and signed it on his knee.
Frankie took it back and locked it in her desk before sitting in the armchair opposite him. She wondered where exactly she should begin.
“Well?”
Frankie suddenly felt nervous. “I’m not sure where to start,” she admitted. “I haven’t…” Aside from Alex, it had been years since she’d told anyone the truth about herself and those weren’t good memories. She had never shared the secrets of her job. Well, not with a sceptic.
“The supernatural is real, Will,” she began. He started to protest but she held her hand up. “Let me finish.” She took a deep breath. “It’s real and my job at MI5 is to stop that causing a public panic. These murders are being committed by a witch, a real witch with power. He’s killing these women as a sacrifice to bring something much more powerful into our world.”
Will’s expression asked if she thought she was serious.
“You remember when we were together and I hated touching you?”
“How could I forget?” he sounded bitter.
“It wasn’t because I’d been abused, like you thought. You never told me you thought that, did you?”
Will shrugged, what did it matter?
“I don’t like touching people because I’m psychic, Will. When I touch people or objects I can see things about their lives.”
Will seemed to be growing angry.
“You don’t believe me?” Although she had expected it, it still hurt.
“You going to tell me my fortune?” his voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Someone should!” she snapped. “I can’t see the future, only the past. Hand me a pen.”
Will looked like he wanted to bolt but he reluctantly handed over a pen from his jacket. Frankie took it and closed her eyes.
“You last used this to make a list.”
“I’m always making lists,” his tone was scathing and Frankie flinched although she didn’t open her eyes.
She concentrated harder. “It was a list of the forensic evidence found.” She wished she could recite what he’d written but the memories weren’t strong enough for her to see that. “Before that you used it to sign off on reports and you took the pen from…” she struggled to see the previous owner because his memories were ‘covered’ with Will's and harder to see. “PC Terry Smith. He’s… mid twenties, single and… this is his first murder case. He’s having problems handling it.”
She opened her eyes and handed the pen back. Will looked guarded but he wasn’t walking out.
“Are you stalking me now?”
“Even if I was, how could I have seen any of that?”
Will snorted.
“Fine,” she pulled her torch out of her bag. It had been years since anyone else had handled it and she was immune t
o her own thoughts. “Hold this and think of something. Something I couldn’t possibly guess.”
Will took the torch and looked dubious for a second, then his brow furrowed slightly as he began to think. Frankie thought he was simply determined to prove her wrong. After a minute or so he handed it back to her. Frankie closed her eyes and concentrated.
“First you were angry and called me a bitch, then you thought of your home but thought that might be obvious so you thought of the book, Crime and Punishment, you changed your mind again, considered the number three but decided to go with seventeen instead then finally you focused on Italy.”
When Frankie opened her eyes he was very still. Probably shock she reasoned. She waited for him to say something but when he didn’t she went to the kitchen and returned with two large whiskies. She placed one in front of him.
“How did you do that?” he asked her, sounding almost angry.
“I have no idea, I just do.”
He stood up and began to pace, dashing a hand through his hair now and again. “It’s a trick. I’ve seen that Derren Brown, he does stuff like that.”
Frankie sighed. “Do you honestly think MI5 would fall for a trick? You give me too much credit.” She took a large sip of her drink. Once again she had opened up to someone and once again it was backfiring. Okay, he hadn't called her crazy, insane, a freak or a weirdo, or any of the other lovely names she had been called over the years, but that didn’t stop the anger that was bubbling up inside her.
“You know what? If you don’t want to believe me, then don’t! I don’t give a damn. Walk out now but just make sure you don’t ever come back!”
Will stopped pacing and turned to her. “You really believe it, don’t you?”
“Because it’s true.”
Will shook his head. His reality didn’t allow for the weird and unexplained.
Frankie stood up. “I think you need to leave now.”
Will’s head snapped up. “You said you’d give me answers.”
“I can’t if you won’t open your mind.” Her anger was abating now and she was left with an awful sadness.
“Can you do it again?” he asked.
“I’m not some sort of parlour trick! You either believe me or you don’t. If you don’t, I can’t help you.”
Will stood there for a few moments, then he grabbed a candlestick from her book shelf. He glared at it for a moment then handed it to her.
Frankie took it. “You’re thinking about the song, Who Let the Dogs Out,” she said without enthusiasm and put the candlestick on the coffee table. “If you’ve had your fun I’d like you to leave.”
“Wait, I… I’m willing to listen.”
Which Frankie took to mean he wasn’t willing to believe. Still, he was bound to secrecy now, she might as well tell him, at least he’d be better prepared, if nothing else.
“Sit down,” she said, sighing. “And drink up, you’ll need it.”
“This is ridiculous!” Josh exclaimed. “I single-handily hunted down and killed Ivor Gregoi as well as Petrus and Maxima. I led our army to victory in the 1629 war and personally killed their leader Henri Clement.”
“I remember; I fought at your side.” Alex sighed, feeling equally frustrated. “But they were vampires, the human world works differently.”
“I still don’t see how one stupid human can be so hard to find. We must be missing something,” Josh insisted.
“We are. We may live among them but it’s been a long time since either of us was human, Joshua.”
“If it were only that, then why can't Mark and Adam help?”
Alex looked at the shapeshifters. They were good men, really, he knew it, but there was still a sort of residual distrust there. Josh was the only vampire he had ever known who had ties in the shapeshifting world. But that was hardly surprising, really.
“Don’t forget, we’re not exactly human either,” Mark said.
“And they’re not trained to investigate humans. I’m sure they’d be very helpful in investigating the shapesifting community.”
Josh began to pace the length of Alex’s office. “Then we need a police officer onside. Who’s leading this investigation?”
“They don’t know any more than we do, Alex reasoned, afraid of Frankie’s reaction if they used mind control on William Campbell. “They’re flying blind too because they don’t recognise the supernatural element.” Alex leaned back in his chair. “I should never have sent Frankie away,” he admitted.
Josh turned to face him and frowned. “The human woman? How could she help?”
Alex hesitated for a moment but decided it was time for total honesty. They were running out of time. “She works for PaST. Either directly or indirectly, all the leads I’ve been following came from her.”
Josh looked surprised. “Really? That is interesting. We must call her back then, make her help us.”
Alex shook his head. “I sent her away, told her it was too dangerous for her. She won’t help us again.”
“She will if we hypnotise her.”
“No. I don’t want her involved in this,” Alex insisted. He decided against mentioning that she was immune to their mind control since Josh might view that as a threat.
“Do you think she has given up on the case?” Josh asked as he resumed pacing.
“I doubt it, but I can’t risk involving her any further.”
“She’s just one human, Alex. What is one life compared to the suffering a demon would unleash?”
“She is… different. We can’t involve her. I won’t let you.”
“Then we must spy on her.” He turned towards the door. “We still have a few hours of darkness left.”
“No!” Alex rushed to block the exit.
Josh’s voice was cool. “Alex, this isn’t your decision to make.”
Both shapeshifters got up and took a step towards him. He was outnumbered and outranked.
Alex swallowed and bowed his head in defeat. “Fine, just… please, try not to get her killed.”
The next morning Frankie woke up with a raging hangover. As the night before slowly came back to her, she groaned and pulled the covers over her head in a childish attempt to avoid reality.
She wondered if Will was still downstairs. Deciding she couldn't avoid reality any longer (she badly needed some ibuprofen) she threw the covers off. Her clock told her it was only 6.30. She never slept well after she’d had too much to drink. She padded downstairs and while the kettle boiled, found the pills and downed twice the recommended dose with a glass of water.
She could hear signs of life from the living room and set a second mug out. Will came through moments later looking rumpled and bleary-eyed. Frankie passed him the pills and he nodded his thanks.
“You drink too much,” Will told her when he’d downed half his coffee.
Frankie stiffened. “You don’t look so hot yourself.”
“You try sleeping on that sofa.”
“I wasn’t expecting house guests or I’d have bought a bed for the spare room.”
“I mean it though, about your drinking. I can understand why…” even if I can’t actually say why, “But it’s not good for you.”
Frankie took a deep breath. “I’ll take it under advisement,” she replied, as calmly as possible. “So, are you still going to help me?” or do you think I’m crazy again, she added silently.
Will picked up a plastic orange from the fruit bowl and tossed it at her.
“If this works, we’re on,” she repeated the impression he’d left on the orange as she replaced it in the bowl.
Will sighed. “I guess, as crazy as it all sounds, we’re on. What do you need from me?”
“I need all the information on that dead body.” The night before she’d explained everything, save for Alex being a vampire. Witchcraft, demons and zombies were enough for anyone. Plus she thought he might disregard any information that came from Alex if he knew the truth. “Brad is our best lead right now, if we can figur
e out where he got the body, we might be able to find him.”
Will nodded. “I’ll talk to the officer in charge today. Got any ideas for what to say? My own case is rather more important.”
“Tell him that two freaky things happening so closely together is too much of a coincidence and whilst they might not be related, you want to be kept in the loop.”
Will leaned back and examined her. “You’re used to lying, aren’t you?” he accused.
“That isn’t a lie, the cases are related, those are my bullet holes in that body. But yes, I do lie. Even if people did want to believe in the supernatural, it’s my job to make sure they don’t.”
Will shook his head in disbelief. “How does a group like yours even come to exist?”
“We date from the World War Two. Hitler was working on many different ways to win and one of those was the supernatural. When the British government got wind of it they didn’t believe it but they also couldn’t ignore it. My department was formed originally to disprove the supernatural.”
“But?”
“But Hitler was right.” Hitler was also part demon, but no need to go into that right now. “Once they knew that the supernatural could be a real threat, the department was expanded and lots of experts were brought in to try and counteract it. When the war finished the decision was taken to keep an eye on things and keep the supernatural out of the public eye, so the department was scaled back but not disbanded.”
“How many of you work there?”
“About twenty.”
“This is crazy,” he muttered.
“I don’t disagree.”
Will ran a hand over his face. “I need to go home and change. I’ll email you the file when I get to work.”
Frankie didn’t bother to remind him she could access the file herself. “Don’t forget to speak to the other detective.”
“I won’t.”
Frankie let him out then reset the alarm. It was still dark outside and she wondered what Alex was up to. He probably had hundreds of leads by now and was too swamped to even think about her. A part of her hoped she was right but the more vindictive side of her hoped he was up shit creek.
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