“You’re alive, aren’t you?” I say acerbically.
He acknowledges this with a smile, and for a moment I see something in his eyes that makes me uneasy. It is like he knows it was me, not any potion. But the next moment the look is gone and I am certain that I imagined it.
I still cannot believe it. I did this. I saved them! Me and my cursed navelstone. Perhaps I ought not to think of it as cursed any more.
There is a moment of awkward silence. I feel a tension in the air. I say, “Thanks for all coming to find me yesterday. You saved my life.”
“No problem,” says Xander casually. That rakish grin of his would undoubtedly make many female hearts race. Even mine a tiny bit. I look away.
Storm is scowling at us both. He says to me tersely, “Diana, this is Leo.”
“Hello.” I shake Leo’s hand, which feels an odd thing to do when he just got shot trying to rescue me. “Thanks for yesterday.”
“Just doing my job,” he says, but sets me at ease with an easy smile. He is excessively handsome, and oddly familiar. I could swear I have seen him somewhere before.
“So, er, you work for Storm?”
“We work for the Agency. But sure, Storm’s my boss.”
“Boss,” Xander snorts. “Did you tell her, Storm, that you’re investigating her for murder?”
“Not any more,” says Storm coldly. Clearly their arrival together last night does not mean that they are friends.
“Good,” I say firmly. “Because I did not do it.” I glare at Storm.
He nods, holding my gaze. “I believe you.”
“It was Dr Carrington,” I insist.
“I got your note,” he says dryly.
“Buck and Cody are gone,” I say worriedly.
“We’ll find them. They’ll face the consequences for their part in this.”
And just like that my body relaxes. A tension I had not been aware was there, which feels like it has had its iron grip on me for years, melts away. The Coltons are gone. Dr Carrington is gone. Suddenly I feel light as air. Free. I am finally free. I realize I am shaking from the powerful emotion.
Watch it! the not-so-little voice warns. Don’t you dare cry in front of them.
I clear my throat to bring my emotions under control. Thank you, I tell her silently.
“You didn’t have to trick me,” I tell Storm a little bitterly. “You could have just asked me about what happened.”
“Murder suspects lie,” says Leo dryly.
But Storm is nodding, a mote of regret in his dark eyes. “Sorry for the deception,” he says softly.
That is all it takes for my feelings towards him to grow warm again. Too warm. I can feel the little voice inside me seething with disgust at my sappiness.
“It was necessary,” Storm adds, ruining it.
Ha! she says.
I sigh. “Dr Carrington confessed.” I explain to them in a rush of words what happened yesterday. They listen intently.
The way Storm is nodding to my words makes me realize he has already put it together. “You’re gonna make me say this all over again later, aren’t you?” I ask.
“We’ll need an official statement, yes,” Storm says.
“You really are a cop,” I mutter, not sure how I feel about this. “And Remi—?”
“Yes,” he says quickly. “She is an agent too.”
I want to ask if she is more than that, but now is not the time.
“She’ll have called in reinforcements by now,” Storm continues. He is frowning at his phone. “They’ll have started a search now that it is daylight.”
As if on cue, we hear the distant thrum of a helicopter approaching. Storm picks up Xander’s car keys from the floor. He goes to open the cabin door, letting in a chilly morning breeze, and disappears outside.
His being out of sight alarms me. I rush to the door, but he is only walking towards a gleaming black jeep. Nobody is waiting to attack him.
I cling to the doorframe with both hands. Crossing that small distance has left me dizzy and shaking. I feel ravenously hungry. More than I have ever felt in my life. I feel like I will die if I don’t eat right this very second.
Outside I see Storm is leaning inside the open door of the jeep and is searching for something. Nearby is a maroon sports car which must belong to Dr Carrington. I had heard him drive off last night. I had thought he was gone. I wonder why he came back. Perhaps to find Lila. Or maybe he passed Xander’s jeep on the road and was worried they’d find me. Or maybe he wanted to see what Buck and Cody would do to me.
The thought fills me with rage. I do not feel bad that he is dead. Which makes me feel guilty. Is this who I am? Someone who is not repulsed by death? Someone who does not fear it?
The Angel of Death doesn’t fear death, the voice says. She is far too loud for comfort.
My gaze goes to Dr Carrington’s body and Lila’s next to him. In the early morning light they are clearly dead. I feel nothing.
They got what was coming to them, the voice says.
As I stand there leaning heavily against the doorframe, Storm comes back. He takes my arm and firmly guides me over to the bed. “Sit before you pass out.”
He hands me a couple of energy bars and some water. I eat them so fast that I am surprised I didn’t choke. He sits down beside me. I feel like the silence is awkward but he seems to be perfectly at ease. He is still watching me. Far too intensely. When I stare back at him he flushes a little and looks away.
“How did you know I was here?” I ask.
“We’d been keeping Freddie under observation. When you both went missing, we were able to track his car.”
“I still can’t believe Dr Carrington was DCK,” I say.
“We should talk about that later.”
“He killed Ms Celeste,” I say, my voice breaking as I recall the horror of finding her body.
He looks at me sharply. “You knew her?”
“Did you find her?” I ask.
“A member of staff discovered the body and raised the alarm.”
“Good. I didn’t want her lying there all alone. Poor Ms Celeste.”
He puts his arm around my shoulder. I let him. We hear the sound of the helicopter becoming very loud, as if it is right overhead.
“About time,” says Xander.
He goes outside to wait for the helicopter to land. I follow him, eager to be gone from this place, and Storm comes with me, lending me his arm to lean on.
Outside, Princess Caroline is rushing from the helicopter towards Xander. She ignores her bodyguards who are trailing anxiously after her. She tries to throw herself into his arms but he holds her away. He seems to be saying some stern words to her. She pouts and then hangs her head. I wonder what is going on.
Finally, after what looks like her making an apology, Xander lets her hold him. She clings to his shoulders and kisses him fiercely.
“At least someone gets a happy ending,” says Storm in my ear. He smiles at me, and I smile back.
Chapter 44
DIANA
Days later I am waiting for Storm to come visit me at the castle. Xander had let me stay after the other guests had departed. He’d insisted to a protesting Caroline that I must remain their guest until I was fully recuperated. It seemed to amuse him that this annoyed her. I still don’t understand their relationship.
They both left for London a couple of days ago. I watched them depart from a second floor window and was glad that neither came to say goodbye. I have spent most of the time here in my room, feeling strangely deflated and looking forward only to Storm’s daily visits. My boredom seems to have driven the little voice away into hiding, and I am glad of it. I worry it is only a temporary respite.
Yesterday I called the mother of the girl in the tree. It had been a painful conversation having to tell her that her daughter had been murdered by Dr Carrington. But she had deserved to know. She had sobbed, saying she knew her baby would never have killed herself. It had felt like I had
finally given her justice.
Remi had told me that Dr Carrington had been running a brothel of succubae. A very high class brothel. Lila had been one of his first and most loyal girls. It hurts that I still miss Lila. I miss having a friend. Storm’s team have already arrested Buck and Cody, and are hunting for Freddie.
Remi has visited a couple of times, and ever since she told me that she and Storm are not a couple I have decided I like her a lot. She’d said that Storm and his plus-one had been allocated a shared bedroom. Storm had taken the couch. I’d tried not to look overly pleased at this news, but her sharp eyes don’t seem to miss much.
I have been trying not to think about the fact that they will leave any day now. Just as soon as their investigation wraps up they will go back to London. This thought makes me feel unanchored from the rest of the world, like I have no place to be. I will be all alone and no one in the world will miss me.
I have no home. I have no idea what I will do after Storm finishes his investigation into Ms Celeste’s death.
Ms Celeste who died because of me. Whose desire to help me was so strong that she did not flee and save herself. I cannot understand it. Ms Celeste was good. She knew what she wanted. I wish I had that steely sense of purpose. That passion to do what you think is the right thing even if it costs you your life.
Was I worth it, I wonder? Would she be glad that I am still here even though she is gone? Now that she is dead, does she know what I am? Is she repulsed by me? I choose to believe she is not. I hope that she understands that I tried to help people.
My nights have been plagued by dreams of what happened, as if my mind is trying to come to terms with it. Mostly I see the moment I chose to fight back against Buck and Cody. The moment I let the little voice take over. How her rage had filled me and seemed to take on a life of its own. In my dreams I can still taste Cody’s blood in my mouth. I had experienced her desire to kill him and it had felt good.
Is she the Angel of Death or am I? Is she even real?
I am scared of what will happen when she comes back. I want to help people, not hurt them. I worry what will happen if I am left alone with only her for company, especially now that I have given her a taste of blood. This thought has begun to consume me. My only respite has been when Storm and Remi have visited. But soon they will be gone.
Storm and his team have been staying in a local hotel while they investigated Ms Celeste’s murder. They’ve examined the crime scene and questioned anyone who might have known Ms Celeste. Storm has refused to share their findings so far.
Ever since he called me last night, telling me that he had something important to talk about, I have not been able to sit still. He wouldn’t say what, and now my brain is in overdrive.
A knock sounds on my door and I eagerly go to open it, thinking Storm might have arrived early. I am disappointed to see it is a porter. For a moment I am worried he will tell me Storm is not coming, but he only asks whether I want my dinner this evening served in my room.
After he is gone, I feel that if I pace any longer the friction might set my carpet on fire. There is still thirty minutes until Storm is due, but I cannot bear to be cooped up a moment longer. He is probably coming to tell me his work here is finished. To say goodbye. And then I will have no reason to stay here, and I will have nowhere to go. But I’ll be damned if I sit here waiting like a fool who has no life.
I begin to pack clothing into a holdall. I doubt Xander would care about me taking it. And suddenly I can’t wait to be gone from this room. This is where Ms Celeste brought me, and now she is gone. This is where I danced with Storm, and soon he will be gone.
Once I have finished packing, I go to my dresser to find my large envelope with the invitations that Ms Celeste had sent me. I sit on my bed and stare at it, this precious packet that brought my freedom. If it wasn’t for her I would never have met Storm. Never found the strength or opportunity to trust my visions. She changed my life.
I up-end the envelope, tipping the contents onto the bed. The invitation card falls out, and the booklet of information, and the envelope that held the flight ticket. And something else — one more envelope that had not been there before.
I pick it up. It has my name on it. It is sealed.
I tear it open and warily extract the contents, feeling scared for some reason. Inside is a letter and a photograph and a small bundle of British money. The photograph is old and creased as if it has been handled many times. In it is a younger version of Ms Celeste. Seeing her as a teenager makes me smile. She is cradling a tiny baby and beaming into the camera. She is holding it as if it is precious.
I bite my lip. There is a heavy ache behind my eyes as if I might cry. Ms Celeste must have snuck into my room and left this for me. It must have been important to her.
With a heavy heart I open the letter. I unfold it. The top sheet is yellowed with age. It is not a letter. A quick scan shows me that it is a birth certificate. The name of the baby is Diana Elspeth Bellona. My mouth drops open. I have never seen my birth certificate before. I have no idea how Ms Celeste must’ve got a copy of it. Except it does not look like a copy. It looks like an original.
Heart racing, my eyes scan down to the boxes that contain the parents’ names. The father’s box has been left blank. The mother’s name is Magdalena Celeste Bellona. I stare at it. It takes a long moment for the truth to hit me.
Magdalena Celeste Bellona. Ms Celeste.
Ms Celeste was my birth mother. My chest tightens. I can’t breathe. It feels like one of the panic attacks I used to have. It can’t be true. How could Ms Celeste be my mother?
There is a letter beneath the birth certificate. It is handwritten in the same handwriting that was on the wedding invitation. Ms Celeste’s handwriting.
I stare at the photograph again. A teenage Ms Celeste holding a tiny baby that must be me. My mother and me. My mother loved me. My heart feels like it has squeezed painfully tight. I can barely tear my eyes away to read the letter.
My Dear,
I hope you will come to me if you find this soon, but I fear you do not wish to come.
I cannot wait long, and yet I cannot leave without writing in the hopes that the truth will save your life. I must leave this place. If he finds me, then I fear he might find you as well. I cannot let that happen. I love you too much.
You were born to me. My own precious little girl. But my grandfather, may God rest his soul, believed your Godstone came from old evil. I feared what he might do so I left home to save your life. The Order found me and told me what you were, and gave you away so that you could be raised to have a better life, the life you were meant to have. I gave you up to keep you safe, but know that I have missed you every single day.
Tonight I sensed that I am being watched. If anything happens to me, know that it means that he will soon find you too. The Order told me what he would do to you. For millennia, ones like him have sought the Godstone to use for their terrible deeds. You must never let him catch you. Hide, my darling. Grow strong. Stay safe until you can defend yourself and the Godstone. Do not let it be used for evil.
Please don’t let him find you. Don’t let him take your Godstone. It will kill you. Please trust me. Listen to your mother. I love you with all of my heart.
You are everything, my love,
Your mother.
I sit on my bed feeling numb. She knew that she was in danger but she took the time to write this letter and hide it in my room. She was going to run away from here, from a life that she had worked so hard and so long to build, in order to keep me safe. She had been wrong — it had been me who had led him to her. Her death was my fault. She was my mother. My family. And she is gone.
I find myself walking out of my room and down the corridor and up the spiral staircase to her level. Her door still has crime scene tape over it, but I tear it off. They have no right to keep me out. Not from my mother’s room. I yank the handle, expecting to have to use force, but the door opens easily. The lock is st
ill broken.
Inside it is just as I remember it. Her suitcase is still near the door. I wonder what will happen to it now. If I should ask to keep it. But what if she never wanted me to have her private things? What is she feels it is an intrusion?
Any crime scene paraphernalia I expected to see is already gone. Cleared away. Storm must be near to completing his investigation, and getting ready to leave. It no longer seems to matter.
I walk towards the little kitchen where she had been laying. Where she had died. DCK’s clawed pawprint is still on the door, the blood turned a faded brown.
I push open the door. The spot on the floor where Ms Celeste had been is empty. She is gone. There is a large bloodstain there. Nobody has cleaned it up. This fills me with anger. How could they leave her blood, a part of her, here like that? It is obscenely disrespectful. She would never want her kitchen left like this.
Psychic for Hire Series Box Set Page 25