“Did you bring cat food?” Paradom asked.
“What?” I was shaken from these nightmarish thoughts.
“We have a ton of it in the kitchen, remember?” Sebastian said. “Ingrid and I will bring you some. Go start your painting.”
Paradom trotted up the stairs like a well-behaved child.
“Painting keeps him happy,” Sebastian said. “He’s actually rather good at it.” He led me off to the kitchen.
“Sorry about the wall,” I said, walking beside Sebastian.
“I’ll plaster it up,” he said. “Correction, I’ll get Alex to. He’s comfortable with heights.” His face changed as though remembering something. “I haven’t spoken with another mortal for months. I’m glad you came. Not that I don’t enjoy Alex’s company. He comes over a little brash at times but he’s is really very sweet.”
“We have a history,” I said. “I arrested him once. It nearly got him killed.”
Sebastian scratched the back of his head. “He appreciates what you did for his brother. For saving Jadeon’s life.”
“He trusts you, Seb. I can see that.”
Sebastian guided me into the kitchen.
I sensed there lay a deeper friendship between him and Alex, a love that I had no right to pry about. Sebastian looked content, and after years of homelessness when his ballet career came crashing down after a car accident, he deserved this. They both did.
“We have the best selection of teas.” He rummaged inside a cupboard. “I’ve been truly spoiled since I came here.”
The kitchen had been refurbished. The red stove was probably never used, and above the center isle the hanging dark green pots and pans were secured by brass hooks. Even the fridge looked new.
“You’re living here permanently?” I said.
He curled his lips nervously. “Tell me you’re not wearing a wire.”
“Of course not. And I’m sure Alex would have detected it if I were.” My gaze swept the room. “Isn’t it strange how all this becomes normal and everything else in life appears foreign.”
Sebastian flicked on the kettle. “You and I, we have something remarkable in common.”
“We really do.”
“We get to hang out with scholars.”
A wave of uneasiness came over me that this visit could very well be my last. I missed all this. Missed my friends, even if they were quirky.
“With Alex, I feel like I’m living with a history professor.” Sebastian waved his hands with enthusiasm. “What we read in history books is a diluted version of what really happened. Alex remembers it all. The finest details. Like how dark everything was without electricity, and the fear of even the smallest infection.”
“No antibiotics back then,” I said. “We’re so lucky.”
“We take so much for granted.”
“It’s nice to have someone else to talk to about it,” I said. “For so long I thought—”
“You we’re going crazy?”
There was a flash of movement in the doorway. It was Paradom.
“Hey there,” Sebastian greeted him.
Paradom hopped toward me and soon closed the gap between us. He reached his clawed hand out and placed something into my palm. His brows raised and his eyes reflected kindness. He hopped off and was gone.
“He likes you.” Sebastian removed two mugs from a cupboard.
“So the locks on all the doors are to keep him in?” I said.
“A bit of both.”
“If he ever got out—”
“Paradom comes over as eccentric, but he knows he’s safe here. He’d never leave. It took Alex and I weeks to lure him out of the dungeon.” Sebastian opened a tin of Harrods tea and reached in.
Discreetly, I unraveled the piece of paper and read the scratchy handwriting. “Jadeon teaches Paradom to paint.”
Sebastian set two mugs on the countertop.
“Will Jadeon be here tonight?” I asked.
He dropped a teabag into each mug. “Let me show you something.” He strolled over to the pantry door and opened it.
Inside were neatly stacked cans of cat food.
He took one of them out and placed it on the countertop. “We don’t have any cats.”
“Paradom seems alert,” I said. “Conscious of his surroundings.”
Sebastian held out his hand for the note and I handed it to him.
He read it and looked back up at me. “Jadeon showed Paradom a few brush strokes. That was a while back.”
“I need to speak with him.”
“It’s a delicate situation.” Sebastian poured boiling water into the two mugs.
“I appreciate that.”
Sebastian caressed his chin thoughtfully. “Jadeon spends most of his time trying to keep the peace. Sounds like an impossible job to me.”
“Dominion, lord of the vampires.” I swept my hand dramatically. “How about he not forget his friends who got him there?”
Sebastian gave me a long, hard stare.
“I miss him,” I sounded defeated.
“Next time he visits I’ll tell him he needs to see you. I promise.”
“Thank you.” I accepted the mug of tea. The warmth soaked into my fingers and it felt good. “I’m working on a case. At first it seemed rudimentary, but something’s come up. Evidence pertaining to the underworld.”
“What kind?”
“We’re not sure what we have yet.”
“Well, if we can help in any way.” He blew on his tea.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Sebastian gave me a reassuring smile and slid open a drawer. He removed a tin opener and set about peeling open the cat food. He scooped the contents into a bowl.
“Shouldn’t Paradom be drinking blood?” I said. “He is a vampire after all.”
“Alex takes care of that. He lets Paradom drink from him. In-between that, Paradom craves this stuff.” He sniffed the bowl and made a face. “Still, he likes it.” Sebastian led the way out of the kitchen.
We were back in the foyer again and heading up the main stairwell.
“Does Orpheus ever visit?” I asked.
Sebastian picked up his speed and we turned the corner, heading fast along the corridor.
“You wouldn’t tell me if he did, would you?” I said.
“Ingrid, you’re a policewoman.”
“That makes you nervous?”
“Both worlds are a contradiction.”
“I wrestle with that every day,” I said. “Has Jadeon said something to you? Be honest with me.”
He stopped before a door. “You go first.”
I pursed my lips, my stubbornness rising.
“First through the door, I meant. I know you’re not willing to compromise.” He reached out and opened it.
Paradom glanced our way when we entered, though quickly resumed his brushstrokes upon a canvas resting on a wooden stand. He delicately held the brush, balancing it between his claws. Discarded paintings were everywhere, most of them of nightscapes, their frames resting against the wall. This had once been Jadeon’s artistic sanctuary and I hoped it still was. I looked around for any sign he’d been here, any painting that had his touch, any hint of a wet canvas. Other than the one Paradom was working on, the others seemed to have been ignored. Some were left unfinished. My heart ached with the evidence of Jadeon’s abandonment.
“I forgot his spoon.” Sebastian headed out. “I’ll be right back.” He closed the door behind him.
Though wisdom told me to leave with him, there came serenity in watching Paradom sweep that fine brush over the canvas, the delicate hues forming the image of a lush garden. The way Paradom painted water lilies floating on a deep blue pond reminded me of a Monet.
“Paradom, that note you gave me?”
His brush paused.
“When did you last see Jadeon?” I said.
Paradom resumed with gentle strokes. “Two.”
“Two nights ago?”
“Weeks.”
He spun round, his brush poised in the air.
“When is he due back here?”
He hesitated. “She isn’t dead.”
“What?”
“That girl...in your head.”
“Oh.” I took a deep breath, realizing. “Okay.” I humored him.
He rested a claw on his forehead. “All the answers are in here.” He pushed a claw into his temple.
“I need more evidence.”
“Look deeper.” He raised his eyebrows. “Deeper than that.”
“Do you know where Jadeon is?”
“London.” Paradom looked worried. “He wants what you want.”
“To save that girl?”
“To save you.”
“I can look after myself, Paradom.” I stepped closer. “Where in London is he?”
“We all save each other in the end.”
I rubbed my brow to ease the tension. “I suppose.”
“Your heart is saying goodbye.”
He really was inside my mind, extracting the truth and saying it back to me. Had I hoped Jadeon was in London? Had Paradom merely mirrored my thoughts?
“If you survive their attempt to turn you, they’ll bow at your feet.” he said.
“Who?”
He peered over my shoulder. “Spoon.”
“Please, tell me exactly where Jadeon is? Do you have an address?”
“Dominion?”
“Yes, where’s Dominion?”
He raised a claw.
Sebastian entered carrying the bowl and a spoon. “Here you go.” He handed it over to Paradom.
I begged Paradom with my eyes while sending a mind message that I hoped he’d hear.
“He’s with the inventors.” Paradom’s gaze widened. “Protected by the elders.”
“What was that?” Sebastian’s attention hopped between me and Paradom. “What did I miss?”
“That’s where you’ll find him.” Paradom scooped a spoonful of mushy cat food.
Sebastian stared at me questioningly.
I ignored him and stared at Paradom. “I’m listening.”
The pungent aroma of processed cat food reached my nostrils and caused a wave of nausea. “I need you to tell me more.”
Sadness flashed over his face. “This bridge you cross crumbles beneath your feet.”
A jolt of fear slithered up my spine and I stood straighter, readying for what came next.
Paradom smacked his lips together. “Tastes like cat food.”
“It is cat food,” Sebastian said, looking amused.
“Don’t take another step.” Paradom pressed a claw against his lips. “Or there will be no way back.”
“What year is it?” Sebastian asked him casually.
“Huh?”
“Okay,” Sebastian said. “What century are we in?”
Paradom frowned. “Have cars been invented yet?”
Sebastian gave a thin, reassuring smile. “See, nothing to worry about.”
“You brought me in here on purpose,” I said. “You knew Paradom would confuse me.”
“That’s very cunning of you,” Paradom said, frowning his displeasure at Sebastian.
“Eat your cat food.” Sebastian stared at the floor.
“Seb, you know I’ll find out the truth in the end,” I said.
“That’s what he’s afraid of,” Paradom said. “That’s what they’re all afraid of.”
CHAPTER 4
It felt good to be holding an arrest warrant.
It also felt good to be back in my world of tracking down criminals and putting them away. Here, in the sitting room of Hauville’s Windsor residence, I was ready to apprehend our suspect. Helena stood a little way behind me and she oozed nervousness. Despite my reassurance, she still fiddled with her necklace.
“Limit your body language,” I warned her.
Helena lowered her hand to her side.
“Remember, we read them,” I said. “Limit their ability to do the same to us.”
“Got it,” she said.
Studying the room, my mind wandered back to last night.
Although fond of puzzles, crosswords, and conundrums, the conversation with Paradom yesterday evening had left my head spinning. Those last haunting words were distracting.
“Don’t take another step,” Paradom had said. “Or there will be no way back.”
My mind struggled to fathom what he meant. Though Sebastian had demonstrated Paradom’s confusion, it was only slightly reassuring, considering the threat of disaster Sebastian himself had warned me of if I dared to continue searching for Jadeon. Maybe Paradom really was delirious and Sebastian had used him to scare me off.
I needed to refocus on the task at hand, which was apprehending Lord Hauville.
Beige walls reflected a soft yellow from the fancy light fixtures positioned around the room. Sweeping drapes were pulled back on either side of tall windows to allow sunlight to flood in. A rose patterned couch matched the armchairs on either side. In the center, a soft pastel rug looked antique and yet remained pristine. Upon the corner table sat a vase of fresh daisies, and right before that sat a silver framed photo of Lord Hauville and his wife, along with their twelve-year-old daughter Olivia. Their only child, now dead. Life really could be cruel. Despite Hauville’s illegal activity, I still felt terrible for him. Other than the photo, nothing in this room hinted at a child’s presence. If she’d once played in here, there were no stray dolls to account for that.
This room revealed not only a feminine touch but a room hardly used. The Hauvilles were loners. Private people, preferring to entertain in their London residence and not here in this Windsor country estate.
“Thank goodness you’re here,” came an upper class accent.
Lady Hauville entered with exuberance. She looked around fortyish, her blonde hair up in a chignon, and her minimal makeup gave off an earthy-country style. She wore clean jodhpurs, a fresh riding jacket and unsoiled boots, all hinting she’d not yet ridden.
I offered my hand. “Inspector Jansen. Good morning, ma’am. This is Constable Noble.”
Lady Hauville gave a thin-lipped smile. “Tea?”
“No, thank you,” I said. “We understand this is a difficult time for you. What with the investigation—”
“My daughter’s death.” She raised her chin. “She died three weeks ago and it still feels like yesterday.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “May I ask how—”
“A rare blood disorder.” Lady Hauville pressed her lips together, this conversation evidently still not easy for her.
“Hemophilia, wasn’t it?” Helena asked.
Lady Hauville looked shaken.
I threw Helena a warning glare to indicate I’d handle this.
Lady Hauville caught it though didn’t react. “Hemophilia is more common in males. So you can understand our surprise when our baby girl was diagnosed with it.”
“You’re a doctor?” I said. “You recognized her symptoms?”
“Inspector, I was under the impression you were here to discuss my husband?”
“We want to share our condolences,” I said. “Let you know we understand how difficult this is for you.”
“To answer your question,” Lady Hauville said sourly, “I’m a trauma surgeon. I work at The Royal London Hospital.”
“You commute from here to London?” I asked.
“During the week I used to stay at our London residence.”
“The Bainard Building?”
“Until your men raided the place. I’m now staying at my sisters, near St. James’ Park. Until we get all this sorted out. This is a terrible ordeal, as you can imagine. Rupert hasn’t taken it well. And now all this. These lies. Someone is setting him up. But we have no idea who.”
“My job is to get to the truth, Lady Hauville,” I said. “If your husband is innocent we’ll clear his name.”
“That’s such a relief to hear,” she said. “Please, feel free to call me Imogen.”
“Imogen, I’d very much like to speak with your husband,” I said. “Your lawyer informed us that he and Lord Hauville would be here today.”
“You didn’t get the message?” she said.
“Message?”
“Yes.” Imogen glanced over at Helena. “Really? It doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.”
“What message, Lady Hauville?” I said.
“I called Scotland Yard this morning.”
My fingers tightened around the warrant.
“That’s not why you’re here?” She knitted her brow. “My husband’s gone missing.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” I tried to keep my tone low, calm.
“Two days ago.”
Damn.
He’d evaded us. I imagined Hauville had made it to Europe by now. Perhaps Italy, if his Dante’s Inferno was a hint at a foreign language. Perhaps one of his many moneyed friends had flown him over in a private jet and smuggled him into the country. Interpol would now be needed to track him down.
“Where and when exactly did you last see your husband?” I asked.
“We had dinner at the Ritz,” she said. “Two nights ago.”
“Did he say anything to you that might have hinted at his disappearance?”
“He was upset with this intrusion.” She pursued her lips. “Other than that he seemed fine.”
“Did he mention going away?”
“No, he did not,” she snapped. “Remember, I reported him missing.”
I hid my suspicion. “Of course. Did he leave any personal belongings behind? His phone? Wallet?”
“No.”
“Does he have a diary or a scheduler?” I said.
“Ms. Lawrence, his secretary, takes care of all of his appointments. She hasn’t seen Rupert or heard from him either.”
“May I have Ms. Lawrence’s contact information?”
“I’ll see you get it.”
“I don’t want to alarm you, but it’s standard procedure to call all the hospitals in a situation like this,” I said. “My department will take care of that.”
She turned to the window and stared through it.
The lawn was perfectly manicured, and beyond that lay tall Bay trees leading into a dense wood. I wondered if Hauville could be camping out there somewhere.
“What am I going to do?” she whispered.
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