Grave Mistake (Codex Blair Book 1)

by Izzy Shows

  My head was starting to hurt from trying to understand politics I had not even been introduced to.

  “We’re here.” Aidan barked, switching off the engine just in time for me to notice we were in front of a mansion. It had that circular driveway and everything. We were right in front of the large steps that poured out from the main door. I leaned close to the car window, peering up at the intimidating building, with its stone walls and haunting windows, and wondered what lay in wait.

  Aidan’s car door slammed, reminding me that it was time to get out now. I clambered slowly from the car, glancing about me as I did. I’d had quite enough surprises for one day—why was I walking right into another one?

  Ah yes, that’s right. I’m an idiot. Can’t forget that.

  “No one’s going to shoot you.” Aidan muttered as he passed me and started up the stairs. “They’ll just eat you!” He called over his shoulder.

  I scowled at his back and hurried after him.

  I really didn’t want to get eaten just because I stayed back at the car. Better to get eaten inside so I could scowl at Aidan and say ‘I told you so.’

  He rang the doorbell—I was surprised there was a bell—and stepped back to wait.

  “Is a butler going to announce us?” I asked, genuinely curious but also kind of joking.

  “Now where would be the fun in that? Clearly, we should rush past the butler and break down the door to whatever room Duds happens to be in. Course there is a higher chance of death with that. Which way do you want to go?” He smiled at me, though it looked forced.

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

  The door opened and a man who looked very much like what I would expect a butler to look like opened the door and proceeded to glare at Aidan almost instantly.

  I stifled a giggle, looking over at Aidan, who looked positively jubilant. His eyes lit up and he was grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Oh, hello, Marcus! Do be a dear and invite me in, eh? I’ve got some business to take care of with good old Dudsy.”

  I couldn’t hold back the laughter then, though I slammed a hand over my mouth as soon as the sound escaped me.

  The butler glared at Aidan for several moments longer before taking a step back.

  “Enter.” He uttered the word with so much contempt it twisted his lips into a grimace.

  Perhaps sensing that he was pushing the man too far, Aidan stepped inside without another word, and I followed him in.

  There was no feeling of being pulled away from myself, of wrongness, when I entered the building, and I realised that it was the invitation that had done it. Or rather, not done it. Just like Aidan had said. I’m sure it had happened before, but I’d never been paying much attention.

  The butler showed us into a parlour, or a foyer? I didn’t know how fancy houses worked. I glanced around, trying not to feel out of place amid such luxury.

  It was everywhere, blatant, in your face. Not the subtle kind of luxury people strive for these days, eager to avoid the ‘trying to hard’ title. This was…garish. Three overstuffed love seats framed the room, one at the far end and one each on either side. An enormous grandfather clock stood in one corner, a plush rug lay out in the middle, and the walls were adorned with numerous paintings that must have cost a fortune.

  Most likely they’d been accumulated over time, I realised. Benefit of old age.

  “Aren’t you going to sit?” I heard Aidan ask, drawing my attention away from the room. He had chosen the love seat to my right, having sat down as if it were of no more importance than the ragged couch in his living room.

  I arched an eyebrow. “No.”

  “Suit yourself,” he said, shrugging.

  I rolled my eyes and did my best not to pace. Just two steps here, a step back there.

  Try not to look so on edge. I chided myself.

  The sound of boots stopped my pacing and caused me to turn around.

  Two men stood at the door, looking very much like thugs. They were dressed in similar fashion, black jeans, leather jackets, buzz cuts. The only thing odd about them was the pallor of their skin.

  “I don’t think the boss wants to see you,” one growled with a thick Irish accent. I decided to call him Buzz.

  “Oh, I assure you, he does,” Aidan called from behind me.

  Buzz scowled at him. “No. He doesn’t have time for beggars.”

  “We’re not beggars,” I snapped—I don’t like to be left out of conversations.

  Buzz glanced at me, an up and down take that made me want to punch him in his teeth. “You look like one. Hot one, maybe, if you cleaned up.”

  “You’re one to talk, Buzz,” I retorted.

  “Easy.” Aidan’s voice came from behind again, and I heard him stand up from the couch. I hated how calm he sounded, and that I let Buzz get to me. “Listen, I’m sure you think you’re doing a very good job yelling at all the people who wants to see Duds, but your good intentions are misplaced. Get out of the way before I fry you.” His voice had that low quality I’d heard in the warehouse, the one that promised death.

  Buzz seemed to hear it too, or at least I think that’s what the constipated look on his face meant.

  Buzz Jr, thug number two, frowned and stepped forward. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “He talks,” I muttered.

  “Wallace,” Aidan answered, the lot of them ignoring me.

  Buzz and Buzz Jr. looked at each other and shrugged.

  “I don’t know that name,” Buzz said.

  “Go ask your boss,” Aidan said.

  The two looked uncertain for a moment, before they turned and left the room.

  I pivoted to face Aidan. “So your name just opens doors, huh?”

  “Well…” He spread his hands before him and shrugged, his face changing to one of childlike innocence.

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again. “Why do I get the feeling it won’t be a good door?”

  “It never is.”

  I let silence fall while we waited, again.

  The grandfather clock ticked by the seconds as loudly as it could, until finally the butler returned. If he seemed surprised that we were still here, he didn’t show it. I suspected he’d sent the Buzzes in to try and be rid of us.

  “My Lord will see you now,” he said gravely, turning and walking out of the room.

  We followed, since that was the only thing we could do.

  The butler led us deeper into the mansion, up a flight of ridiculous marble stairs, and into an office. The floor was dark marble, the walls black, and aside from a dim chandelier, the fireplace emanated much of the light.

  Behind a desk in front of the fireplace sat a man I assumed to be the Baron.

  He did not look happy to see us—well, I doubted he cared that I was present.

  “Wallace.”

  “Dudsy.”

  The man glowered at the nickname. “To what do I owe the displeasure? I thought I’d told you never to show your face here.”

  “Oh, well you might have noticed that there are people dying out on the streets, and dark magic in turn is being created from those deaths.”

  “People are always dying. What matter is it to me if you cannot control your people to leave those deaths alone?” His voice was lifeless—oh, the irony.

  Aidan crossed his arms over his chest. “I want to know if you have anything to do with it?”

  The Baron did not respond immediately, and I found that I suddenly didn’t want to add any snarky comments to the conversation. He didn’t look like the type to laugh about anything at all.

  Silence stretched out for what felt like an age, all the while the two men appeared to be engaged in a staring contest.

  Was this the part where they pulled down their trousers to measure?

  “You dare to come into my home and level such accusations at me?” The Baron said, his voice sounded like ice.

  I guess that would be a no then.

  Aidan did not seem affected by the way the Baron
responded to him, and in fact shrugged his shoulders. “I like to cross the easy ones off my list first.”

  “You have a lot of nerve coming in here after Maria,” he snarled.

  I glanced at Aidan, mouthing the name as a question, but he shook his head. Yeah, probably not a good time for clarification.

  “Oh, do you not let your apprentices in on your crimes before you lead them to certain death?” The Baron sounded too eager for my liking now. “Allow me to fill you in, darling. Aidan came to us a few months ago with another one of his problems, asking for help. From the looks of you being with him, he can’t seem to do anything on his own. I gave him a few people to work with to handle the problem, and he got several of them killed. Maria was one of them, and she was very dear to me. So dear, in fact, that I promised to kill this man if he even so much as coughed in my direction.”

  I swallowed and glanced at Aidan again, uncertain what I should be doing in this situation.

  “She’s not my apprentice,” Aidan said.

  “Really? Really, Aidan? That’s what you’re going to say?” I snapped, finally unable to hold my tongue. “The guy unloads all of that and you’re just going to go ‘oh she’s not my apprentice.’ Ugh.”

  “I quite like this one.” The Baron chuckled. “Do you? Maybe I should kill her. Eye for an eye.”

  I stared at him, then turned to Aidan, then back to him. “This has got to be a fucking joke.”

  “I never joke.”

  “That’s true. Not a humourous bone in his dead body,” Aidan remarked, still not addressing anything the Baron had said. I wanted to smack him. “So, are you going to tell me if you’re involved in this or not?”

  “No, Aidan, I’m not involved in this,” he hissed the last word. “But I will be involved in your death.” He leapt over the desk, fangs suddenly visible and the veins around his eyes stood out, black as death.

  I jumped back, covering my face with my hands for whatever protection that might offer me, not knowing what else to do. I didn’t think a gun would do much against a vampire.

  But the vampire never hit me, and when I opened my eyes he was gasping on the ground, with three holes in his gut.

  I gaped at him and turned to Aidan, mouth open and unable to muster together a coherent question.

  “Wooden bullets,” he answered what I hadn’t asked, waving around a gun he must have had hidden in his coat. “Always handy when dealing with vampires. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  I nodded, and we raced out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the building without a goodbye. Luckily the butler wasn’t there to see us out—he had probably assumed we wouldn’t be making it out.

  “I’ll take you back to your car,” Aidan said as we clambered in. “You should get some sleep. Magic lessons are gruesome.” He added with a wink.

  10

  NORMALLY, WAKING UP IS A PAIN in the neck for me. I’m not a morning person and never have been, I sleep until noon whenever possible.

  I woke up early, like it was Christmas morning or something else equally dumb. I hadn’t been excited to wake up in a long time, I hadn’t had anything new or stimulating at all to care about—and magic was at least interesting.

  I was knocking on Aidan’s door at 7:45, a drink tray carrying two cups of coffee in one hand and my messenger bag slung over my shoulder. Energy was pulsing through me already, I was so excited to get moving on this case. Well, the magic more than the case.

  “HRNGH.” Through the door, I heard what I assumed was Aidan grunting—apparently, he wasn’t much of a morning person either. Tough. I wanted to get started. He opened the door and I was greeted by the sight of a very dishevelled Aidan. His hair hadn’t been combed, he was barefoot, and had very obviously just tugged a shirt on. Thank goodness for the sweat pants.

  I wrinkled my nose. “Ready to get to work?” I tapped my foot on the pavement impatiently.

  “You sure are chipper,” he grumbled in my general direction, his bleary eyes zeroing in on the coffee tray in my hands. “Oh, you’re a goddess. Is that for me?”

  I grinned. “One of them is.” I pulled one of the cups out of the tray and handed it to him. He took a big gulp out of it and may or may not have smiled. It was too fleeting for me to be sure. “Can I come in?” I prompted him.

  “Yes, yes, of course. Come in.” He backed away from the doorway so that I could enter.

  Hesitantly, I put my foot over the threshold, paying attention to the way everything felt. I’d been a little distracted last night, even though I’d been aware of the absence of unease. It felt…like something was dissipating as I stepped into the house, like something had been there before but wasn’t anymore. Very odd, very hard to put into words.

  “Sooooo,” I dragged out the word, “what are we doing first?” I bounced on the balls of my feet, trying to keep from moving too much but unable to contain the energy inside me. Listen, when you’ve been rejected by just about everything and everyone throughout your entire life, finding out that you might just belong somewhere is pretty damn exciting.

  “First, we get some life into my veins.” He gave me a reproachful glare and guzzled more of his coffee before throwing himself down on the sofa.

  “So, magic lessons or case information? Or both?” I managed to wait until he’d finished his coffee to ask, but after that I didn’t have much more patience left over.

  “Case first, basic magic theory next, target practice after,” he grunted.

  “Great. Where do we start?” I sat down in the chair across from him.

  “You tell me everything you know, I fill in the blanks.”

  “Easy.” I shrugged. “I know next to nothing. A woman hired me because she thinks her husband is cheating on her with a ghost. I snooped around his office and the bar he usually drinks at, no one really knows what’s up with him. Everyone agrees he’s acting very strange. One of the guys told me he went to the warehouses to get high, which is why I headed over there. Enter you, and you’re all caught up.”

  “Wait, hold on, cheating on him with a ghost?” he asked, eyebrows lifting.

  I shrugged. “What, that’s the crazy part of this whole thing? Yes, she thinks he’s cheating on her with a ghost. I thought she was a bit loony, probably watches too much TV or reads too much junk, but whatever, I was betting he was cheating on her, with a normal woman, and that I’d snap a picture or two and collect my money.”

  “Hm.” He nodded. “Well, he’s not dating a ghost, I feel pretty safe in saying that. Yes, that is weird. Ghosts don’t…get involved with mortal affairs. I think he’s definitely involved with some necromantic shit, though.”

  It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. “OK, so, spill.”

  “I’m not sure who’s heading up the group, and I wasn’t too sure they were even necromancers until I saw the last body. Timing fits though, necromancers are most active in the autumn and winter.” He sighed. “I don’t think he’s involved in the actual magic of it all though. I’d have heard about him by now if he had enough magic of this kind of magnitude. I think they’re using him as a front, messing around in his mind so they can get where they need to go without having to blow their cover. Necromancers don’t have the knack for being subtle when out and about.”

  That made sense. Someone with a lot of power and the kind of God complex to animate a dead body would probably want to show it off as much as possible.

  “OK, so we’ve got a zombie being played like a marionette, and some necromancers scuttling around. Why can’t you just go kick arse like you did at the warehouse?” I asked, cutting straight to the point. I’d never had the knack for eloquence.

  “Tactful. No, necromancy is powerful magic. The two men at the warehouse were pawns, like hyenas are to a lion. Sure, in a pack and against one, they could probably take one. But not in small numbers, and they prefer to get lost when they can. The longer a being has been dead, the more power a true necromancer can draw from that being. You can’t just punch them, ta
king them out requires planning…and finesse,” he explained.

  I arched an eyebrow, not convinced he was capable of finesse after everything I’d seen so far.

  “Hey, don’t give me that look. I’m a complex man.”

  “Yeah. Right.” I snorted. “So how are you going to do it?”

  “Well, I was trying to figure out where they were holing up last night, but then you had to go and get in the way of things.” He glared at me. “We’re going to try and get more information tonight, and hope we have some luck with it. You don’t want necromancers loose in a place for too long. We’re lucky a missing fiancé and a handful of bodies is all that has turned up so far.”

  “Alright. So, what do I need to do?” I asked, because I didn’t want to fuck it up.

  “Not die. That’s always a good starting point. Look, you’re not going to be able to do a whole lot with this, it’s just the way it is. Really, I shouldn’t be bringing you into it. Whoever gets assigned to you is probably going to stick your backside at a desk for the next thirty years and have you study runes or some shit. But I don’t think that’s really going to do you any good. You need to know how to survive, and books just aren’t going to teach you how to do that.” His voice grew quiet and his face took on a pensive look, as if a memory had drifted back to him. Had books failed to help him in the past? I wondered how he’d learned that nothing in a book would help him survive—but it wasn’t a lesson that I need. I’d been surviving in a world that didn’t want to help me for a long time now. I didn’t expect it to change its mind just because I’d learned a few new tricks.

  On the contrary, if my track record was anything to go on, as soon as something good came your way it was usually counter balanced with something truly awful.