Shadow Chaser (Undeadly Secrets Book 3)

by Aaron L Speer

  Alicia took the information in, looking down for several seconds. “I imagine I’m not your mother’s favourite person in the world.”

  “She wants you dead.”

  Alicia looked up at this. “And what do you say?”

  “You’re still alive aren’t you?”

  “Which might change if I don’t answer your questions?”

  “No!” Talia was shocked at her own sudden desire for Alicia to understand. To speak to her. Something about her commanded respect. Talia found herself in awe of the former Alpha’s wife. Something which would infuriate Radha. She could’ve made her talk, she could’ve beaten the information out of her. But she didn’t want to hurt Alicia. “No. I just want to learn. Please?”

  Alicia gave a small smile. Talia wondered what she might be thinking. “All right. I give you this promise. One day, I’ll tell you about him. But not today. I just want my things, and I’ll leave. But I have no doubt you’ll find me again.”

  Though her instinct was to demand Alicia stay and do what she said, Talia found herself nodding. The request was not unreasonable, and her awe for the woman grew even now.

  “Here, let me walk out with you.”

  “With respect, I think I’ll leave the way I came in.”

  And with a smile, Alicia left.

  Only a few minutes later, Radha rammed in the door. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me she somehow overpowered you. Tell me anything other than you just let her walk out.”

  “She means no harm to us.”

  Radha unleashed a fierce slap across her face. The shock of the movement paralysed Talia.

  “How dare you. Do you have any idea what that bitch has done to me? To us? She and Wilson were sitting in this fucking mansion laughing at us for every day of your life.”

  “That’s not true. They didn’t even know I existed.”

  “You believed that shit?”

  “YOU told me ‘that shit’! Besides, she had no reason to lie. She showed great courage walking in here the way she did.”

  Radha scowled. “You sound like you admire her.”

  “Perhaps I do. And as the Alpha of this pack, my choice is the only one that matters. No harm will come to her, because I say so. If you disagree, hit me again. But just so you know, I’ll be prepared this time. And I’ll hit back.”

  Radha scoffed and made to leave. Just before her hand reached the door, she turned to face her daughter. “You are the most powerful Alpha in England, perhaps even the world. But there is one thing you fail to realise. An Alpha needs a pack more than a pack needs an Alpha.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know the saying is probably true. The strength of the wolf is the pack, the strength of the pack is the wolf. But there is another saying we have. That when a pack loses an Alpha, another sprouts up eventually. But when the Alpha loses its pack, the Alpha loses a part of its soul, its strength. Your men, these men, are loyal to power and strength, not to you. You’ve proven only that you can kill them. Not that you can lead them. How do you think they’ll feel when they know how merciful you are? I’ve always told you, mercy is for the weak. Apparently Nicholas was merciful. Look what happened to him.”

  The door closed on the echo of the words and Talia felt like someone had squeezed her heart.

  Chapter 3

  I’ll Be Watching You

  Sydney

  Solomon Crane leaned back and stretched sore muscles. His back was killing him. No matter how many years he had sat at this very desk at this police department, he could never get used to his crappy chair. He’d promised himself when he got promoted to Senior Constable, he’d go buy his own, but he still hadn’t got around to that.

  He glanced out the window. The fog blanketed the city with little to no let up. It was depressing as all hell to walk out of your home, day after day and be met with the chilly mist that froze your throat and nose whenever you took a breath. Today, like yesterday and the day before, seemed like a good day to stay at home. But here he was, none the less.

  Ok, ok. Enough whinging. Focus.

  He was here, like always, for a reason. He’d be damned if he was going to get removed from this case too. It seemed like every goddamn time he’d dig up some leads on his cases, he’d get a call that they’d been sent “upstairs”. With the missing persons case, he hadn’t thought much about it, but last year he thought he’d uncovered something big. A drug case unlike anything he had ever seen—Dream State, they’d called it on the news. That shit glowed blue for chrissakes, and killed people while they slept.

  But again, just when he was making some headway, he was taken off again.

  Despite losing faith in the thing that had been so important to him for so long—the justice system—he still had a job to do. So here he was again, another strange case splayed across his desk. He’d nearly been ready to walk away, take the leave they’d asked him to take. But something told him to stay. Convinced him that this was important. Dangerous, and that it meant something.

  He took a deep breath, held it a moment, and looked back to the diary on his desk. It had belonged to a young girl named Bianca Fox. He glanced over it again. He had just finished reading the last entry, her last entry. Ever. And he was sure he had missed something.

  Diary 26th June

  Frankie Thomas is so cute! I can’t believe he smiled at me today.

  Diary 27th June

  Frankie Thomas is A GOD! HE KISSED ME!

  Diary 28th June

  Frankie completely ignored me today. I don’t get it. Did I do something wrong?

  Diary 29th June

  I can’t believe this. I caught him kissing Laura. He grinned at me like it was no big deal. Like I was nothing. I had a weird dream about him the other day, that he was knocking on my bedroom window. Trying to apologise, I bet. I don’t care. I’m pissed at him.

  Diary 30th June

  Feel like crap today. Mom kept me home from school. Spent all day in bed. Weird dreams about Frankie again. Him outside my window, knocking to get in. My room feels totally freezing. Strange. I’m still so pissed at him, though. But I also miss him. Maybe I should listen to what Dream-Frankie has to say.

  Diary 2nd July

  Um...wow. So…I let Frankie in. He kind of rushed at me. His lips were cold, probably from my room. His fingers were even colder. Before I could say anything, I was on the bed and he was on top of me. He started kissing my neck…then kind of, licking it? It was kinda gross, but then he started to warm up and it was ok. I had only just started to feel nice when all of a sudden I woke up. So it was all just another weird dream.

  Diary 4th July

  Mum called the doctor today. Too weak and tired to go anywhere. I’ve been getting worse over the last few days, and they’re taking me for tests in the morning. The last few days, I mostly just sleep, and all I can really remember is the weird dreams about Frankie. I think I remember them so clearly because he…does stuff to me. Stuff that I have never done before. With his hands, then his mouth. And his…penis. It’s nice at first when he kisses me, but then he gets rougher and rougher. I see him there, and his face is blurry, standing over me, and we’re both naked, except I’m still wearing my undies. I’m lying still on the bed, my heart is racing. His penis is huge, and ugly. Or at least I think it is. I feel him rip my panties off and push my knees up into my chest. I know it’s only a dream, but I hate the feeling of it going in. It’s fat and it hurts. I remember feeling like I should scream and say no. But I never do. He just holds his finger to his lips and I stay silent. I wake up crying some nights, and have to crawl into mum and dad’s bed. I don’t dare tell anyone. It’s too weird. Oh, and the doctor came. He says he can’t find anything wrong with me, and that I just need more rest. Trouble is, I’m starting to sleep more and more, and I just feel more tired. Even now, my eyes want to close. But I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to dream again. I don’t want to ever have sex…

  And that was the last entry. The next day, the gir
l’s parents found her in her room, not breathing and unresponsive, and had called the ambulance. The notes from the paramedics said they’d attempted to revive her with no success.

  Crane shook his head and reached for the autopsy report. At first her death had been chalked up to Dream State, since her appearance matched other victims of the drug, but that theory was dismissed immediately after the autopsy.

  He flipped open the folder, skipped over the first page and read the conclusion: Inflammation and bruising of the labia, evidence of trauma. Signs of recent, repeated sexual activity. No seminal fluids noted… Severe anaemia and malnutrition…contributed to cause of death.

  Crane flinched and chose not to read anymore. A consequence of his job was to see and hear things that disturbed him, but it didn’t make it any easier. She was a thirteen-year-old kid, for fuck’s sake. The diary was more than enough to call this Frankie Thomas in for questioning, but the kid’s family had gone away for the weekend and it would be sometime tomorrow before they made it back. This was one of the mysteries, the kid Frankie wasn’t in Sydney when this occurred.

  His mobile buzzed and whirred next to the report. He picked it up. “Hi…”

  “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

  Crane checked his watch before answering. “7:45.”

  “You said you’d be home to read to her.”

  “I’m sorry, I know. I’ll be home soon. I’ll read to her tomorrow, I promise.”

  “I’ve heard that before.”

  “Darl, it’s—”

  “The case,” she finished for him. “Do you even have any idea how many days you’ve missed? Or do you care?”

  “Oh Jesus, Karen. Come on!”

  “I knew what I signed up for as a cop’s wife. I knew, but it doesn’t make it any easier. But remember what we discussed the day she was born? You said you’d always be there for her. She didn’t sign up for this.”

  “Ok, ok! I get it. I’ll make it up to her tomorrow, I promise.”

  “You need to make it up to her now. Tonight. She’s refusing to go to sleep.”

  Crane rocked his head back slowly, stretching his neck. “Put her on the phone.”

  There was some short crossing of feet and whispers on the other end, before his daughter came on the line. “Hi, Daddy.”

  “Hi, baby girl.” He smiled. Her voice could always melt his heart. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I promise I’ll make it up to you, but you have to go to bed, okay Bubba?”

  “I can’t, daddy.” The voice was just as tired as he felt. “Because of the bad man.”

  “It was just a dream, sweetie. Why don’t you sit up and Daddy will come and tuck you in?” Crane asked through a yawn.

  “Can you please make sure he doesn’t come back?”

  “Absolutely. No one messes with a policeman, remember?”

  He knew his words had taken affect when she giggled. The loveliest thing about his relationship with his daughter was that he was her hero. Anything he told her, she believed. On occasions like this, it was most useful. As long as he told her she would be safe, she wouldn’t worry. “I’ll see you soon.”

  He hung up and stood, flipping his jacket on. He glanced once more at the report and clenched his eyes, clearing his fatigued vision. His eyes focused on a name he had jotted down with arrows pointing from the various things that led directly to her. He had wanted to talk to her before, in connection with his previous cases, but these were the ones that had been taken away from him. Like the missing person’s case she reported, about her boyfriend being taken from the hospital. Or the Dream State-related case connected to the teenager that had been registered as living with her before he was killed. Crane’s gut told him all these things were interconnected, because of this very name. It appeared somewhere, somehow in every single one of them.

  How he wished the hardest part of his job was ridding the city of horrible things that he told his daughter didn’t really exist. He didn’t know how much, but Alexandra Hensley, the teacher from St. Therese’s Primary School, knew something. And this time, no one would stop him from finding out what.

  ”Thank you Tracey, good morning. Or what would be if the sun would come out for more than a few seconds (tense, forced laughter) Yes the residents of Smith St woke this morning, stunned and saddened by the news thirteen year old Bianca Fox, is the latest victim of the shocking run of deaths that has gripped the city in recent weeks. Police say her family was home last night and no one heard or saw anything suspicious, but that she had been quite ill for some days prior. Her friends and family could be seen openly weeping as her body was carried out by the paramedics. There is some suggestion that this could be linked to what the papers are calling, the Shadow Killer, which would make her the seventeenth victim, but I must stress this has not been confirmed. The Mayor of Sydney though, has released a statement for people to pray for the victims, but Sydney is still as safe as it ever was. – Morning News broadcast

  Chapter 4

  Just Breathe

  Alex winced, trying to focus on the lamp dangling from a thin chain directly above her. It was the hardest thing in the world to stay still and pretend to ignore the stop-start buzzing, the pressure against her skin followed by the dull scratching pain, all the while covering her breasts with one arm.

  “Okay, this is when people usually scream. Just letting you know,” Chris said. She’d met him less than twenty minutes ago and agreed to let him perform this little operation.

  Alex let out a low breath, closed her eyes and gripped her support till her fingers ached. Luckily for her, the support was Michelle Davidson, and she returned Alex’s death grip with a comforting squeeze.

  Chris closed in again and Alex hissed, turning her face away, sucking her lips inwards.

  Michelle leaned over her. “It’s easier if you just breathe through it.”

  Alex heard the words but the best she could do was short, quick breaths.

  “You’re almost done and you’re getting it in a really painful place. Did you wanna take a break for a while?”

  She wasn’t going to pussy out. She shook her head, flattening it against the bed. Chris pressed into her once more, and the scratching became a burning cut. She suddenly forgot worrying who saw her boobs, hugging herself tighter, puffing them up as she scrunched her face and gnashed her teeth.

  “…Mmmmmffffuckety!”

  Michelle placed her arm over the one covering her chest, and bent close to her ear. “Remember why you’re doing this.”

  And she was right. Alex rarely ever made rash choices, but this was an exception. It was also a way for her to get out from her apartment. She had taken a week’s leave from work after the failed wolf invasion and would be returning tomorrow, Monday morning. While she took to investing heavily in the local bottle-o, the world itself hadn’t changed for anyone else. But it had for her. She couldn’t stand the thought of going into work and having everyone ask how her holiday had been and she would have to lie. Her world had changed. She could mask it but she had earned the right to carry her memories with her, no matter how painful.

  “And…we’re done.”

  Chris leant back in his chair and placed the machine on the metal bench, reached behind him and grabbed a can of antiseptic spray. Alex gasped at the sudden cold of it. “A warning would be nice.”

  Chris shrugged and grinned abashedly. “Sorry ‘bout that. Go take a look. Usually we don’t recommend doing names. It causes too much trouble when the relationships break up…”

  Alex blinked as tears leaked out, before she sat up, still covering her chest and swung her legs over the side of the bench, planting her feet and standing. “He wasn’t my boyfriend.”

  But I sure did love him.

  Alex took several tentative steps towards the line-up of mirrors against the wall, turning to the side that ached, the left side, where the heart was located. She looked down at the cause of her pain, her ribs and what she had just endured. Something she swore she woul
d never do. There, shiny with antiseptic solution, red raw and covered with tiny droplets of her blood, was Alex’s first tattoo. A name, in the middle of a pair of angel wings.

  Nicholas

  *

  Michelle plonked the crown lager in front of Alex and sat down on the living room sofa opposite her. “Have you spoken to Dante lately?”

  Alex shook her head as she took a pull of icy cold liquid from the bottle. “Not since he called a week ago. I figure that I should give him space. He’s got a lot on his plate and I don’t want to bother him with all my drama. I’ll get my shit sorted and just, you know…move on.”

  “It’s not drama. You’re hurting. I’ll be grateful to Nick forever. He saved my life and I didn’t even know him. I just wish I could’ve done something on that night.”

  “You know I never asked you where you disappeared to after you said you wanted to help Dante. After that Miller kid shot up the place. Where did you go?”

  Michelle gave a brief smile. “I went nowhere. Nathaniel cornered me and wouldn’t let me leave. ‘I’m sorry, Dante’s Door, but I am supposed to protect you. You can’t go outside.’”

  “Ah, is that what happened?”

  “I tried to push past him but then,” Michelle’s face grew dark. “Then he turned around. He heard his mother in pain when she was being beaten by Miller. He saw the car come down. He saw the whole thing.”

  “Oh no…”

  “He screamed when the wall blew back. Shrieked. It was horrible.”

  Alex covered her mouth.

  “But the worst thing was when he ran to the door to run to her, but he stopped short. He thought about it, shaking and then turned around and looked at me. He was trying not to cry.”

  “Poor kid.”

  “Right? Because in many ways he is still a kid, isn’t he? Anyway, at that point I finally figured out what was going through his head. He wouldn’t go out. Not because it was too late, even though it was. It was because Dante had told him to stay and protect us. I was shattered.”