“Orpheus, if you know something…”
“You’re asking for my help?”
I knitted my brow. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Please.”
“Good girl. Right answer. Keep up the courtesy and we’ll do fine.”
“We’re not working together.”
“Care to amend that statement?”
“Fine. Thank you for your assistance.”
“That’ll do for now.”
After a furtive glance either way down the corridor, I followed Orpheus, questioning the sanity of trusting him. I prided myself on reading a person’s face as well as their body language and gleaning the things they didn’t say. When reading him there came an uncanny feeling I could trust him, though pinpointing the exact reason evaded me. Orpheus took my hand in his with an ironclad hold, impossible to escape, as he led me on. His skin felt warm and it made me wonder if he’d just fed, and on whom. Shouldn’t I question him on that? Arrest him?
Squeezing his hand back was my way of letting him know that my decision to follow him was for the sole purpose of solving my case. There came a haunting thought I could very well be his next victim, though you’d never have guessed it from the way I trotted willingly beside him. Being near him again was exhilarating, and I cursed the part of me that wanted, no, needed this. A desire to throw myself into the worst kind of danger. The lure of the underworld was an intoxicating adventure that I found impossible to resist, and from the way he grinned at me he knew it too. We turned the corner and trekked onwards, passing room after room.
“Here we are.” He let go of my hand.
I wondered if I was about to regret this.
There was something different about him, a subtle change in his eye color. His irises were an iridescent hazel encircled with a deep brown halo.
“Although I’m flattered by the attention,” he said, having caught my stare. “How about getting your mind back on why you’re here.”
Orpheus’ hand reached for me, removing a starched white handkerchief from the top pocket of his jacket, which was still around my shoulders. He placed it over the doorknob.
My mind raced with all the possibilities of what lay hidden on the other side. Though more intriguing still was how Orpheus knew about it.
“You know an awful lot about my investigation.” I grabbed his wrist. “None of this is in the news so either you’re spying on me or—”
“We could of course stay out here and risk getting caught.” His hand tightened on the handle. “With no search warrant, you’re trespassing. Which is a crime.” He held an expression of mock surprise. “We have something in common at last.”
“What interest do you have in Hauville?”
“That’s classified.”
“Since when do vampires hold classified information?”
“Since Dominion.” His hand found its way to my lower spine and rested there.
“I’m listening.” I was also weakening from his touch.
“My directive was to get you out alive. Knowing you as well as I do, if you don’t get what you want, you’ll be back. We can’t have that now, can we?” He cocked his head. “Someone’s coming.”
When these moments with Orpheus were over, what then? Would he tell me where to find Jadeon? Perhaps I really could persuade Orpheus to take me to him.
“That part of your life is over,” he said. “You’ve pushed the limits of morality as far as you’re prepared to go.”
“I’ve already crossed the line into the underworld.”
“You’ve merely glimpsed inside. Ingrid, you’re not prepared for the person you’ll become.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have to be prepared to move beyond your self-imposed limitations of what you brand normality.” He opened the door and nudged me in.
I breathed in the dusty air, ready to turn around and leave if necessary. Despite the risk of getting caught, my initial reaction stirred my curiosity. Orpheus raised his eyebrows playfully.
Furniture lay all over the place, as though we’d stepped into a storeroom. A dining table had been tipped on its side, and close by rested several discarded mahogany chairs stacked on top of each other. Paintings were strewn here and there as were candle holders. There was a disturbing taxidermy collection including a stuffed fox, a tatty black cat, and even a boar’s head. Their glassy eyes stared at us disapprovingly.
“My first instinct was to leave,” I whispered. “That’s on purpose.”
“Good girl,” he said.
Footsteps traced outside the room; a heavy gait that soon passed.
“How do you know about this?” I said.
“Jadeon called me on the way here. His office has been tracking Hauville’s movements.” He brought a fingertip to his lips. “Don’t tell him I shared that with you.”
“What’s Jadeon’s interest in Hauville?”
“Your interests are evidently Dominion’s.”
This sounded wrong on so many levels. “Are you telling me you and Jadeon are friends now?”
“Our paths did intertwine in the most dramatic of ways,” he said. “As did ours, Ingrid.”
He was right of course. Orpheus had stalked me for the last few months, and though I found his face pretty to look at he was fucking scary. The turn you into a vampire on a whim kind of scary.
I looked away.
“Let’s not talk about that now,” he said.
I tried to shake off this powerlessness. “You had something you wanted to show me?”
“This.”
I scanned the mess. “Where the hell am I meant to start exactly?”
“You’ve come a long way. But you still have a long way to go.”
“Until what?”
“The underworld is ready to trust you.”
“I’ve kept my knowledge of your kind secret.” I frowned. “To the detriment of my work. My investigations.”
“You’re a loose cannon. With you it could go either way.”
“I’d never betray Jadeon.”
“That remains to be seen.”
“Never.”
“Time will tell. It always does.”
There lay a heavy dose of truth in his words. I had once threatened to reveal their kind to the world, sought out clues to be used as evidence to expose them. My love for Jadeon had changed all that. Instead of wanting to bring him to justice I’d fought to protect him. Though my heart ached for him even now, and this sense of betrayal still ravaged my soul, my loyalty had never wavered. Surely Orpheus knew that?
“Orpheus, if you can read my mind you can read my heart.”
“What happens when you truly grasp that he’s not coming back to you?” he said. “What then?”
“Love always finds a way.”
“Until it doesn’t.”
“You know more than anyone about lost loves and second chances.”
He looked thoughtful. “This is not about me. Dominion’s life has changed beyond all recognition. He’s facing new dangers. He must know you are safe. There can be no distractions.”
“I can protect myself.”
His attention drifted to the window and beyond.
“I’m not ready to be turned,” I said.
“Let there be no misunderstanding,” he said fiercely. “This is not what he is asking of you.”
“Then what?”
“Ingrid, let him go.”
“If I were to talk with him—”
“Nothing would change.” He brushed a strand of hair out of my face.
This conversation was leading nowhere. I’d more than tipped my hand at how much I yearned for Jadeon, revealing my weakness, and I hated myself for it.
“Me being here for you is my peace offering,” he said.
“It’s not enough.”
“Maybe this will help.” He set off for the other side, heading for a heavy oak door.
Using his handkerchief again to cover the handle, he found
it locked. A click announced he’d released the catch with merely a thought, a trick of his telekinetic powers. He beamed a mega-watt smile my way as he opened the door.
The windowless room was larger than the one we’d left behind and reflected an organized mind. A table was positioned in the center. Upon it rested two computers, one at either end. File cabinets were stacked high with folders, all neatly marked with names, and on closer inspection also with years going back to 1999. Four clocks hung at the back, reflecting the time zones of New York, London, Paris, and Hong Kong.
Orpheus rubbed his hands together. “Evidence.”
A cupboard sat flush against the right wall. I made my way over to it, borrowing Orpheus’ handkerchief to ease it open. Stacked high on shelves were what appeared to be counterfeit samples of numerous items, among them handbags, perfumes, obscure velvet pouches, and transparent bottles of pharmaceuticals.
I looked at Orpheus, my expression incredulous.
“Another case solved,” he said, wrapping an arm around my waist.
“What’s your interest in all this?”
He pressed a fingertip to my lips. “A thank you will suffice.”
My eyelids fluttered with the headiness of being so close to him. “How did Jadeon know about this room?”
“He has a knack for secrets.”
“That stirs my curiosity.”
“Suppress it,” he said with a hint of amusement. “I have to go. Lucas is waiting for me.”
“I’ll have to come up with a reason why the police need to search this building. They can’t know I’ve been in here.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he said. “Now let’s get you out of here.”
“Wait, please.” I clutched Orpheus’ shirt. “Take me to him.”
Orpheus pulled his jacket farther around my shoulders in an uncommon gesture of kindness. And though he didn’t say the word, his eyes told me no.
CHAPTER 2
New Scotland Yard buzzed with its usual frenetic energy.
Escaping the heap of paperwork waiting for me on my desk, I carried my mug of coffee as I walked along the endless white-washed, starkly lit corridors to the evidence room. It amazed me how quickly I’d gotten used to the noises in this place: phones ringing off the hook, people talking over each other, and the usual hustle and bustle of The Yard. What looked like chaos to any visitor was really the tireless focus of behind the scenes officers in the metropolitan police, serving London’s entire population. Having been transferred in from Salisbury a few months ago, I’d gotten used to this intense working environment. A far cry from the small city station I’d come from.
Even here, in the heart of the city, they had no idea about the vast underworld of supernatural beings living amongst them. Though from a few unsolved case files I’d rifled through in the records department, investigators had come across nightwalkers. They just hadn’t realized it. In one file I’d read the report of a man jumping off a speeding train, landing on his feet, and surviving only to run off and evade the pursuing officers. Another case reported a woman pronounced dead following a pub brawl stabbing, but soon after she leapt to her feet and flew from the bar, leaving behind the gob smacked coroner who had pronounced her dead fifteen minutes before. Yet another file contained the on duty policewoman’s report of what appeared to be a series of vampire-style attacks, where drunken party goers complained a mysterious woman had gate-crashed their event and literarily sucked blood from their necks. All their blood samples came back clean. Drug free. Still, no one believed them, least of all the police.
London was rife with vampire activity and an even dose of denial.
Two nights ago, while standing in Hauville’s office, Orpheus had doubted my ability to keep silent on what I knew about the immortals. I’d sworn yet again to honor their code of secrecy. Yet here were my people. Living, breathing mortals who held the highest moral codes and who strived to maintain peace and uphold the law. Could I really keep such a profound secret? I really believed I could. Was I being naive?
“Time will tell,” Orpheus had warned me.
I would never betray Jadeon’s trust, despite the contradiction of my vocation clashing with my knowledge of those with a penchant for blood. Even though Jadeon had reassured me his kind had long given up causing harm, my moral compass was spinning. As Dominion, could he really honor his promise and rule his kind? Ensure they lived within our rules as well as the underworld’s? Surely Orpheus’ words ‘time will tell’ were more relevant when applied to them and how far they dared to go to protect our world from theirs.
Even if I decided to share what I’d discovered, who’d believe me anyway? My sanity, not to mention my reputation, would be questioned. All the evidence I’d managed to collate over the last few months was now gone. Stolen. And I suspected Jadeon had been the one who had swiped it. I had, after all, threatened to release it to the public.
Maybe Jadeon was right. The world wasn’t t ready.
Passing a vast network of cubicles, and the men and women tirelessly working away within them, made me question if I belonged anywhere. I felt stuck in some kind of halfway land between the ordinary and a preternatural realm.
This melancholy wasn’t getting me anywhere. It was time to ignore this aching for Jadeon that devoured my insides. This misery of heartbreak for which there was only one cure; throw myself into work.
Leaning on the doorjamb, I took in the evidence room and sipped my coffee.
Beneath the glare of florescent bulbs worked my small team of three officers. They were busy collating evidence. Twenty-eight-year old Nick Greene was one of the Yard’s many civilian technicians, and right now his face was far too close to a computer screen. I’d have to talk to him about that. Though Nick would probably shrug off his answer in that boyishly-charming way of his. From his disheveled appearance, he’d been up late playing video games and drinking far too much diet soda.
Standing behind him and peering over a pair of bifocals was Sergeant Gerald Miller. A man with over fifteen years experience in the Met and a wisdom to match the time he’d spent on the beat. From his casual attire of navy-blue trousers and brown suede jacket, he was slowly getting used to being out of uniform, and the dapper looking handkerchief tucked into his upper right pocket revealed his desire for promotion. I’d have to work on that for him.
Beside him stood Constable Helena Noble, new to the force, and to prove it the creases in her uniform were all in the right places. Helena easily reminded me of how I’d been when I first joined—overly enthusiastic and consistently bubbly. This was a team I could trust.
Helena caught my stare and her back stiffened. “Hello, ma’am.”
“Good morning.” I headed on in. “Mr. Greene, you’re sitting far too close to the screen.”
“I’ve told him,” Sergeant Miller said. “He thinks he’s too young for glasses.”
“I am.” Nick kept his focus on the screen.
At the far end of the room, stacked upon a long table, sat the collection of evidence gathered from Hauville’s office. I approached, taking in the perfume bottles, medicine pots, and fake purses. All samples of Hauville’s counterfeit goods. Staring back at me through beady eyes was that boar’s head and beside it the stuffed black cat.
“Where’s the fox?” I said.
“What fox?” Nick said, joining me.
My gaze swept the table, still not seeing it. I’d tipped my hand I’d viewed this evidence before. “Good work everyone.”
Had Hauville really used these garish objects as a distraction to his storage room? It certainly seemed that way. And where the hell was the fox? And why was it missing?
“What’s the appeal with having stuffed animals in your house?” Helena asked.
I examined the boar’s head. “It’s a trophy. Maybe Hauville hunted and killed the boar himself. He’s into the sport, apparently. The cat could have been a pet.”
Helena cringed. “Nasty.”
“They made it here with th
e rest of the stuff,” Miller said. “Though why, we have no idea. They were found in the room next to it.”
“I wanted to make sure we didn’t miss anything,” I said. “Hauville’s lawyers are working on getting all this back to him, so we don’t have much time.”
We made our way over to the table where Hauville’s computer sat.
“How did you know about all this?” Helena asked.
“Nick tracked Hauville’s website IP address,” I explained. “A brief search of the Bainard Building turned up this.”
“Hauville’s an idiot,” Miller said. “Surely he should have known we’d track his website?”
“It’s certainly baffling,” I said. “But I’m not complaining.”
“When are we going to arrest him?” Helena asked.
“Still waiting on the commissioner’s nod,” I said. “Chief Inspector Brooks reassured me it’s imminent. Until then we continue to build our case.” I took the seat beside Nick.
He reached for the mouse. “The software’s working away at cracking Hauville’s access code in the background, but it takes so damn long.”
From having attempted to hack into Hauville’s computer back in his office, I knew the issue Nick was having. “Wife’s date of birth?” I suggested.
“Tried it,” Nick said.
“Didn’t he have a daughter who died? Olivia, wasn’t that her name?” I glanced back up at Miller.
Nick clicked away on the keyboard. “No.” He capitalized Olivia. “And no.”
I caressed my forehead, traveling back in my mind’s eye to Hauville’s fundraising party, strolling once again along those carpeted corridors while trying to get a sense of the man from the decor. The Bainard served as the headquarters for his philanthropic activities. His portraits of military officers dressed in their finest regalia, with their cavalry emblems, revealed his time served in the Household Cavalry Mounted Regiment. During my brief visit I’d also caught his love of Italy, revealed by his private collection of Italian painters.
I’d admired the lavishly decorated ballroom where I’d nibbled on canapés and sipped the finest champagne, all the while mixing with Hauville’s guests, many of whom were socialites. I’d soon extracted from the party goers information about Hauville that could very well be utilized later, like his obsession with pomp and ceremony, his desire for social climbing, his interest in politics, and his heavy focus upon himself.
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