Dark Lakes, Volume One: An Uncanny Kingdom Urban Fantasy (A Dark Lakes Collection Book 1)

by Matthew Stott

  14

  It turned out that Annie had been telling the truth all along. Without a doubt. One-hundred percent.

  She’d sold her soul, multiple times, and now a bunch of pissed off demons were vying to claim her spirit as their own.

  I took her to my flat, which I thought would be a safe place for her to hide out now that Eva had covered the place in protection spells. I gave my wolf-slobber coated face a good scrubbing, then headed for the coven. I needed to get Eva on this, as I obviously had no idea how I was going to get Annie out of her fatal predicament.

  Not that I told her that, of course.

  I assured her all would be well. Demons? No big deal. Just another Wednesday in my line of work.

  I parked up and made my way down the blind alley that hid the coven from prying eyes.

  ‘What?’ said Eva, not looking up from the bong she was huffing god knows what from.

  ‘Why does your bong look like you fashioned it from a human skull?’

  ‘Because I’m fucking metal, that’s why. Now get on with whatever it was you came here for so we can get back to you not being here.’

  ‘It’s about Annie. She came to me for help. She’s got a bunch of demons trying to kill her to get at her soul.’

  Eva inhaled, then offered the bong my way. ‘Get in on this, it’ll put hair on your frigging eyeballs.’

  ‘As nice as that sounds, I think I’ll pass.’

  ‘Pussy.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Sold her soul, eh? What a prick. Complete prick behaviour, that.’

  ‘I don’t think she’s a prick. She seems nice.’

  ‘Yes, but you’re a prick too, so you would think that.’

  ‘Oh, charming.’

  ‘Has she or has she not sold herself to multiple demons who are now scrabbling to off her so they can be the one to claim her everlasting soul?’

  ‘Well, sure, yes.’

  ‘What a prick.’

  ‘Okay, fine, she’s a prick and she did something stupid, but we have to help. We can’t just let them kill her.’

  ‘Yeah we can, we can easily do that. Really easily. Look how easily I’m doing exactly that, right now.’

  ‘What?’

  Eva took another mighty hit on her bong, then collapsed back and let the—somehow—purple smoke drift out of her head’s exit holes.

  ‘Hey, idiot, we should order takeaway! Pizza! Pizza, pizza, pizza, pizza, pizza. That’s a funny word. Pizza. Pizza. Double Z. Not many double Z words.’

  She broke out in a full body laugh attack that took almost three minutes to end.

  ‘Are you done?’ I asked.

  Eva nodded. ‘Hey, what happened to that pizza you were going on about, love? I am famished.’

  ‘Eva! Focus! There’s a woman in danger, isn’t this what we’re all about?’

  ‘Normally, yeah. But she sold her soul to a demon. To lots of demons. Those contracts are locked up tight. There’s no wiggling out of them. You can’t take them back. What’s theirs is theirs. Whatever we do, whatever magic we try, it’ll only, at best, delay things. Sooner or later, your prick of a pal is going to get what’s coming to her, and one lucky demon is going to get her rancid soul to use as a punch bag for the rest of eternity.’

  ‘Shit. Shit it.’

  ‘But there is some good news.’

  ‘Good news? Okay, good news is good, hit me with it.’

  ‘I just remembered I have three slices of leftover pizza in the fridge! Pizza, pizza!’

  Eva rolled onto the floor, managed to pull herself up onto her feet, then staggered over to the kitchen.

  ‘Eva, come on, she’s at my flat!’ I said, chasing Eva’s heels. ‘I can’t just let her die without at least trying. Just give me something.’

  She retrieved a pizza box from the fridge, opening it up and inhaling its contents with an almost sexual ferocity.

  ‘Want a slice?’

  My stomach growled.

  ‘Yeah, thanks.’

  ‘Well, you can’t, this is my pizza.’

  ‘Eva, there must be something.’

  ‘Nope, the only way you can get around it is if you can find someone to agree to take on the debt. Then the original person would be free of it, and whoever took it on would find themselves marked. But really, what kind of a brain-dead, moronic, dumb-dumb would willingly do that to themselves?’

  She grabbed the box and wobbled back through to the main room.

  Well, this was all just great. I had a woman banking on my help, and I didn’t have any help to give. Brilliant.

  I sighed and slumped beside Eva on the couch.

  ‘What about the other thing? The murder stones? Any news on Elga and her Kin?’

  ‘Still looking into it.’

  ‘How much have you looked into it?’

  ‘Loads.’

  ‘How much.’

  ‘I’m about to start at any moment.’

  ‘Eva, people are dying!’

  ‘People are always dying, idiot. Like your friend, Annie. She’s dying, any day now by the sounds of it. Shit happens. Death happens. I’ll get to it. Now, if you don’t mind, me and these three slices of cold pizza have a heavy make-out session planned, and I’d appreciate some privacy.’

  I found myself driving away from the coven, away from Eva, with a familiar cocktail of annoyance, frustration, and confusion having a fight in my belly. Plus hunger. I hadn’t realised in all the recent hullabaloo that I’d been missing out on regular food, as well as sleep.

  So, to sum up: according to Eva, Annie was up to her neck in it and that was that. The deal had been done. If you sold your soul, that was it. There was no breaking a contract. A soul was owed, a soul would be taken, with only a slight amount of wiggle room: someone could take the debt onto their own shoulders.

  I already didn’t like the direction this was heading in.

  I swung by a local pizza place on my way back to the flat and grabbed a couple, one for myself and one for Annie, then headed home.

  Unfortunately, those pizzas would find themselves abandoned in my car as I pulled up outside of my flat to find Detective Martins, Maya’s new partner, waiting for me.

  Life really did seem keen on kicking me square between the legs.

  15

  There I was again, sat by myself in a police station, miserable and exhausted. It had barely been a week since I’d last found myself here, held in custody and being subjected to a barrage of questions. Same room, too. Perhaps they’d name it after me one day. The Joseph Lake Memorial Interrogation Room.

  ‘I don’t like you, Mr Lake,’ said Detective Martins as he entered the room and sat down opposite me.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘No. And you smell bad.’

  ‘I’ll have you know I’m very scrupulous about hygiene.’

  ‘You’re also not funny.’

  ‘About the smell thing... I was down a well earlier, and before that I had a run in with some large birds, so it is actually possible I’m hosting some left-over stench.’

  Detective Martins leaned over the little table and sniffed me. Took two great lungs full, then grimaced.

  ‘I can smell a liar, and that’s what you are. You reek of it.’

  The questioning did not seem to be going well. I would have asked for a lawyer, but thought that might have made me look even more guilty. Plus, I had a friend on the inside,

  ‘You still haven’t actually told me why you’ve dragged me in here. You realise there are two pizzas in my car, and I didn’t even get a chance to crack a window for them.’

  The door opened and Maya entered, taking her place beside Martins.

  ‘The gang’s all here, then,’ I chirped.

  ‘Mr Lake,’ said Maya, ‘have you been in contact with Miss Chloe Palmer recently?’

  Maya was completely unreadable. Obviously she knew what had happened, and was on my side, but she had a poker face and a half.

  ‘Answer the question!’ said M
artins, rather aggressively.

  ‘No, I haven’t seen or spoken to Miss Chloe Palmer.’

  ‘Really?’ said Martins, ‘because I happen to think otherwise.’

  ‘Well, that’s nice. Believe me, if I’d spoken to her, if I knew where she was, you would be the first to know.’

  Martins smiled and took out a sheet of paper, sliding it towards me.

  ‘Do you recognise this?’

  I looked to Maya, a little confused, then took the paper. It showed the comments section of a website.

  My website.

  ‘Ah…’ I said.

  ‘Ah,’ repeated Martins. ‘I told you, Lake. I can smell a liar.’

  ‘Look, no, this isn’t really anything.’

  ‘It’s you conversing with Chloe Palmer,’ he replied.

  ‘How did you even see this?’ I asked.

  ‘An informant,’ replied Maya.

  ‘An informant, who would be…?’ Doctor Neil of course. Oh, that pasty bastard.

  ‘Where is she, Lake?’ asked Martins.

  ‘This is nothing, it’s less than nothing, honest!’

  ‘You have at best a loose association with that word, don’t you?’ asked Martins.

  ‘No, I’m honest, I’m very honest. You could say honest is my middle name, but I wouldn’t because that would be dishonest and I hate dishonest people. Can’t stand them. Horrid lot.’

  ‘Mr Lake,’ said Maya, as I floundered, trying to keep my head above water, ‘we’re just trying to understand what this is and why you didn’t tell us about it.’

  ‘I understand,’ said Martins. ‘It’s because he didn’t want us to know, isn’t that right, Lake?’

  ‘Okay. Okay. Yes, I read those messages, but I knew they came from someone playing a sick joke.’

  ‘You knew?’ said Martins. ‘How would you know, exactly? Is there any reason it couldn’t be her?’

  ‘Yes!’

  Maya momentarily widened her eyes at me in a shut-it-you-moron sort of a way. She gets a lot of information across with the slightest facial tick, that one.

  ‘I mean, no. Obviously it could be her. It’s just, that’d be a really weird way to get in contact, wouldn’t it? That’s not a thing you do, so I assumed it was just kids pissing about.’

  ‘I see. But then, it appears, you came to believe it was her,’ said Maya.

  ‘I hoped. I knew it was dumb, but I hoped anyway because I wanted it to be her, because I’m worried about her. But it wasn’t. It isn’t. It’s just, like I said, kids or something.’

  Martins sat back, arms crossed, eyeing me evilly.

  ‘Even if it actually had been her, I mean, so what? Wouldn’t that have been a good thing? It would show she was still okay, right? Also, can I go now, please?’

  Martins stood and kicked his chair back dramatically. ‘I know you’re up to your neck in this, Lake, and I’m going to be the one to finger you.’

  ‘Please,’ I replied, ‘I’m not really into that sort of thing. Not that I’m judging.’

  Martins lunged forward, fist clenched. Lucky for me, Maya stood and placed a placating arm between us.

  ‘Okay, Martins, that’s enough.’

  Martins looked at her, then turned and stormed out.

  ‘Well, he is just an aneurysm waiting to happen.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me about the messages?’ asked Maya. ‘Or at least delete them?’

  ‘Because, they were nothing. Well, probably nothing. You do remember what happened, right?’

  ‘Yes, and I’m the one trying to protect you from any of the fallout, and this sort of thing does not make it any easier. An officer like Martins gets tunnel vision, and now, thanks to your stupidity, all he sees at the end of that tunnel is you.’

  Maya dropped me off home and I retrieved the now cold pizzas from the Uncanny Wagon.

  ‘I was starting to worry about you,’ said Annie, as I entered with a cheery hello.

  ‘I come bearing very cold gifts.’

  We sat on the couch, eating delicious cold pizza, drinking beer, and letting some bad sci-fi movie burble along in the background as we talked.

  ‘Anything happen while I was gone?’ I asked.

  ‘Nope,’ replied Annie, muffled, around a mouthful of pizza. ‘You said this place had protection on it. What d’you mean by that?’

  ‘Magic. It has magic stuff on it, to keep me safe from… things.’

  ‘I’m sorry, what? Are you saying you’re a magician?’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I’m a witch.’

  ‘Oh again.’

  ‘Though I tend to prefer the term warlock. Is that sexist of me? It feels sexist.’

  ‘A little bit.’

  ‘Little bit?’

  Annie shrugged. ‘Though warlock does sound more bad-arse. I’d probably try and use that too.’

  She smiled and I found myself laughing and relaxing. It might have been the first time I’d felt in any way comfortable since Chloe died. It felt.. a bit weird.

  A bit wrong.

  ‘So, you believe me, then?’ I asked. ‘You just take my word for it that I’m a warlock?’

  ‘Joe, I’ve been climbing into a well to talk to creatures from Hell since I was seven years old. I think I can cope with the idea that warlocks exist.’

  Well yes, that made sense.

  ‘I’m going to be honest here, it wasn’t until about a week ago that I even knew warlocks existed. My past is a bit, well, completely empty. But now there’s magic, and monsters, and talking, axe-wielding foxes, and now, demons. It’s been quite the few days, let me tell you.’

  ‘Axe-wielding foxes?’

  ‘Oh yes.’

  Annie smiled. ‘That sounds sort of cute. And awesome.’

  I went over to the fridge and grabbed a fresh couple of bottles. ‘Another beer?’

  Annie nodded and made grabby hands.

  ‘You know, I actually feel relaxed,’ she said. ‘I’ve been walking around like I have a target on my back for weeks, because, well, I do. It’s so good to finally have someone on my side, someone helping me.’

  Ah. Yes. I had yet to actually go into the details of my conversation with Eva. About how, apparently, Annie was pretty much screwed in the bottom.

  ‘It’s not just me I’m scared about,’ said Annie.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I mean, if it was just me, I’d be scared, of course. Terrified. But...I’m a mum.’

  Ah. And oh. And shit.

  ‘A little girl. She’s three.’

  I thought back to the insight I’d had into the mother’s fierce, all consuming love for her child back at the earlier crime scene. It was the most powerful love I’d ever felt. Maybe the sort of love I’d never be able to experience myself.

  ‘What’s her name?’

  ‘Millie. She’s great. Well, I would say that, but it’s also true. The best thing that’s ever happened to me. The only good thing I ever got out of her dad before he decided to leave. And now…’ her voice faltered, a catch in the throat.

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘She’s staying with my best friend. I had to make up some bullshit for why. I just… I couldn’t risk her being near me. Getting caught in the crossfire. Joe, I’m going to die and Millie is going to be left without her mum.’

  There were tears rolling down her face now, so I said something stupid to cheer her up.

  ‘That’s not gonna happen. I’ll protect you, and I’ll get those demons off your back.’

  ‘You promise me?’

  Don’t do it, Joe.

  ‘I promise. Absolutely.’

  Well, crap.

  I knew of course that I’d just made a promise I had no idea if I could keep. In fact, I was pretty sure I couldn’t, but what else was I supposed to say? I thought about her little girl, finding out her mum was dead, that she was never going to see her again, and there was nothing I could do but make dumb promises that I prob
ably couldn’t keep.

  ‘What’s with the face?’ asked Annie.

  ‘Hm?’ I replied.

  ‘You looked sad.’

  ‘Me? No. Always happy, me. Not smart enough to be miserable. You need depth to be sad,’ I smiled and winked.

  ‘I’ve caught you looking like that a few times, Joe. I’ve shared my sad story, why don’t you tell me what’s going on with you?’

  ‘It’s nothing.’

  ‘Ah, a woman.’

  ‘Wow. You are very perceptive.’

  ‘I know, that’s another one of the things I sold my soul for.’

  ‘Is that true?’

  She laughed. ‘Maybe. So, someone broke your heart? Been there, done that.’

  ‘Probably not like this, you haven’t.’

  ‘Try me.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said, taking a deep breath. ‘Well, it turned out the girl I’d been in love with, who was into me too, planned to eat my warlock soul so she and her army of octopus-limbed, soul-sucking vampires could march across this country and bring it to its knees.’

  Annie nodded thoughtfully as she sipped her beer and took in my story. ‘Yep, definitely been there.’

  I laughed and leaned back. ‘Life is strange, isn’t it?’

  ‘Amen to that.’

  We tapped our bottles together, drank another three, then fell asleep where we sat.

  16

  I returned, bright and breezy, to the hospital the following morning for another shift. I’d be lying if I said that switching out dud lightbulbs was topmost of my mind that day. No, I had a much more pressing matter to deal with.

  ‘Ah, Doctor Neil, there you are.’

  He turned from the sink in the second floor men’s toilets and glared at me, as though attempting to force lasers to shoot from his eyes and burn twin holes through my head.

  No doubt he would pretend he hadn’t dropped me in it with the police, but he knew that I knew that he knew, and it was only a matter of time, of expert linguistic chokeholds, before he admitted the whole dirty—

  ‘Yes, I told the police on you and had you dragged down to the station. That was me. All me. And I’ll do it again next chance I get.’