Psychic for Hire Series Box Set

by Hermione Stark

  It hurts like it has pummeled each of the cells in my body individually. I cannot move or feel. I can barely think. When I regain my senses I do not know how much time has passed. My ears are ringing. But I am back in my body. I am back in control.

  I feel sluggish. Slow. My body reluctant to move. Stunned. This is what a stunbomm does. I can feel Beatrice moving beneath me. Weakly, but she is moving. Her hand reaches for mine. For my slack fingers. And she eases the stunbommer out of it.

  I cry out a sluggish wail of panic. I slap her with my other hand, clumsily, but enough to make her squeal when I hit her injured head.

  I stagger heavily to my feet. I run lumbering out of the door, half falling down the stairs. I can hear her getting up. I can hear her fetching something in the room. The gun. She is going for her gun. I can hear her at the top of the stairs. She doesn’t run down. She’s pointing the gun at me. There is a bang as she fires.

  The bullet flies past my shoulder, ripping a line of fire into my flesh. I stumble down the last few stairs. And now she’s coming after me. Closer. And she is aiming again. Aiming to kill.

  And ahead of me the front door is opening. I run towards it. Storm is standing in the doorway. Storm is here. I scream a warning at him. I throw myself down on the ground. His hand rises almost in a blurry arc. He fires his stunbommer. I feel the force of the magic fly over my back. I hear Beatrice hit the ground with a solid thunk.

  Panting, I hoist myself up into a sitting position. I smile weakly at him. “You took your time,” I say.

  Chapter 25

  DIANA

  On Thursday morning I awake tired but happier than I have felt in a really long time. My head feels light with sleeplessness, given that I was up half the night, too full of nervous energy to rest. My shoulder hurts where the hospital has patched up my wound, but I don’t care.

  Storm had been eerily calm as he dealt with the fallout yesterday, and I am worried about how he feels now about what I did despite all of his warning about the danger. Despite all that, I have woken in a joyful mood.

  I take a shower, change the dressing on my shoulder, then pick up AngelBeastie and take her for a little dance around my room, at which she yowls in disgust and leaps from my hands the second I’m finished clutching her. Laughing, I ruffle the thick fur on her head.

  “The worst days are behind us Beastie. Things are going to be better from now on. You believe me.”

  Beastie munchies her dry kibbles and looks unimpressed. Her grumpy little face seems to say that she’ll believe it when she gets that juicy salmon that I promised.

  “I’ll come home with it,” I tell her. “You’ll see. But I might be late. I have a busy day today.”

  My first stop is a supermarket in search of a cherry. My second is Beatrice Grictor’s house. I need to catch her secretary before the young woman disappears. Like I had hoped, when I arrive she is there. She is apologetic as she answers the door, saying that Beatrice will not be available for any appointments for a while.

  “I didn’t come to see her,” I say. “I came to see you.”

  “I’m nearly ready to leave,” she says guardedly. She continues packing her box of belongings on her desk. She picks up a name plate that says ‘Jane Mustow’ on it and drops it into the box.

  “I’m sorry about your father,” I tell her.

  She stiffens. She turns to look at me. Fear is etched onto her fine features. Features that I had never bothered to look at before. She doesn’t look much like the photograph that had been on Raif’s desk. She is wearing a glamour. She takes a step back from me, looking like she is going to flee.

  “No,” I say quickly. “I’m not here to harm you. I’m here to give you this. Raif wanted you to have it.” I hold out my hand, showing her the silver key that Raif paid for with his life.

  She looks at it in disbelief. Her breath comes out in little gasps. She reaches for it with trembling fingers as if she dares not believe it is true, but she doesn’t touch it. Tears are pouring down her cheeks. Her other hand goes to the silken scarf that is wrapped tightly around her throat and pulls it away, revealing that awful collar that I had once thought looked like a pretty tribal ornament. I flinch when I see it.

  It is my flinch that finally persuades her that this is not a trick. Her fingers close over the silver disc in my palm. She clenches it tightly in her fist, and closes her eyes, scrunching them shut as if praying hard. I watch in fascination as the collar around her throat simply disappears into thin air. When she opens her clenched fist the disc is also gone.

  Murmuring a cry of shock, she collapses down onto her chair. She touches the skin of her throat, pressing it as if she hasn’t felt it in a long time. Then she buries her face in her hands. Her shoulders are shaking as she sobs. Whether from relief or grief, I cannot tell. I reach over to touch her hair. It feels okay to do that because suddenly she seems so young.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss. Raif clung on to this world because he was still thinking of you, and he was so desperate to make sure that there was someone here to help you. And he found me.”

  I keep speaking to her softly, stroking her hair like Raif might have done if he was here. “Your dad taught me something important. That in the end it is love that matters, not vengeance. In the end he was thinking of you, not his murderer. He was thinking only of you.”

  Eventually she stops weeping. She wipes her eyes. She has to clear her throat a couple of times before she is able to speak. “You saw him?” she asks tremulously.

  I nod. “I saw his ghost. But he is gone now. He was at peace the moment he knew that I had promised to help you.”

  “Does Beatrice know about me now?” She looks worried.

  I shake my head. “I never told her. And she’ll be in prison for a long time. She never needs to find out.”

  “I was so scared,” she whispers. “Of her. Of the fae. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if he had managed to get the key. I couldn’t leave without it. There was no point. I can’t believe he’s gone.” Another tear slides down her cheek.

  I put my hand on top of hers and I squeeze her hand gently. “Maybe he’s up there somewhere watching you, glad you’re finally free.”

  She nods, and offers me a tremulous smile.

  “Do you have someone to go to? Your mother maybe?”

  “She’s dead. She was a water sprite too. The Grey Queen had her killed when she tried to escape with me. I was going to be next. Then Raif came to get me. I couldn’t believe it. My mother never even spoke about him.”

  “What will you do now?” I ask her. “Will they still be looking for you?”

  She nods. “But it will be so much harder for them to find me now that my collar is gone. I really am free. Free to hide. Free to disappear from them forever.”

  “I think he must have had some running away money hidden somewhere,” I tell her. “But I’m sorry. I don’t know where he hid it.”

  She shows me a little key on her keyring. “A locker,” she says. “He had told me where it was, just in case.”

  “You’ll be okay now?” I ask.

  She nods. “Thank you. You can’t understand what this means to me.”

  “I think I can,” I tell her. We hug long and hard before I leave. It feels good. It feels like hugging Raif and Lynesse too. It feels like I can breathe again.

  My next stop is Agency Headquarters. I take a deep breath before walking in. This time Maxine at the reception desk is expecting me. She reminds me of the directions to the chief’s office. When I knock on his door, he gives a terse command for me to come in.

  I make sure to stroll in with a little of Nemesis’s panache and give him a cheeky little grin.

  He merely raises his brows at me and slides an envelope across the desk. I take a peek inside and bite my lip. It is a small stack of banknotes. More money than I have seen in a long time.

  “The next one will be a check,” he tells me. “So make sure you open a bank account.”


  “So there will be a next time?” I ask him. “You really are giving me my job back?”

  He shakes his head. “You broke all of the rules I told you not to break.”

  “How would I have solved the case otherwise?” I demand.

  “You’ve got gumption, I’ll give you that.”

  “And what did you mean about a check if you’re not giving me my job back?”

  “Not a permanent position. But you have any more of those visions of yours, you let Storm know. If it’s worth our while, he’ll bring you in as a consultant. Or if he wants you on a case, he’ll give you a call. I’ve agreed with him to take it on a case-by-case basis.”

  “And is Storm happy with that?” I ask anxiously.

  The chief shrugs. “You’ll have to check with him.” He shows me to the door, and points me in the right direction.

  Feeling nervous, I approach Storm’s office. I can see him in there, his head down as he scrutinizes a report. Remi, Leo and Monroe are sat at desks outside his office. They all turn to look at me as I approach. I offer them a smile, and place the box of cupcakes I have baked for them down on Remi’s desk.

  “Peace offering?” I say.

  Leo reaches for the box, but Remi snatches it away from under his hands. She opens it and smiles. She stuffs a cake into her mouth. “This is good,” she says, mumbling around the mouthful.

  Leo scowls at her and she tosses him a cake, which he catches effortlessly. He sniffs it, and says, “Lemon, interesting. But it’s gonna take more than this to get back on our good side.”

  “Oh, come on! I did tell you that Beatrice was a suspect. I can’t help it if you won’t listen!”

  Leo rolls his eyes. “Fine. But you didn’t try hard enough. Next time find the real culprit before we arrest the slimy grieving lover.”

  “I’ll try,” I say with a small smile.

  Monroe is glaring at me with his arms crossed over his chest. I take a cake out of the box and offer it to him, giving him a pained expression of severe apology. “I’m really sorry about your stunbommer. I swear I’ll never do that again.”

  It irks me to have to make an apology on Nemesis’s behalf, but it’s not like I can tell any of them about her. Not when I’ve just got my job back.

  Remi nudges Monroe with her toe. “These are delicious,” she tells him. “Even for a sugar-hating weirdo like you.”

  Monroe makes a face and takes the cake from my hand. I grin at him, and reach across to ruffle his hair.

  “Hey!” he playfully slaps my hand away, and then ruffles my hair. “You’re the junior member of the team now.”

  “I’ll take that,” I say. “Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck,” Remi and Monroe say simultaneously as I make my way towards Storm’s office and knock on his open door. I can feel their eyes on me, eagerly watching.

  Storm does not look up at my knock. He continues to turn the pages of his report and scribble something on it. His sexy pinstripe shirt is straining oh so delightfully over his broad shoulders. Seeing his black eye again makes me feel a stab of guilt. I tiptoe across to his desk and I carefully place the special lemon cake on it, the one with the fresh cherry on top. He doesn’t even look at it.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  He still does not look up. I go around the side of his desk and lean down to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. He makes a face.

  “And I really am grateful for you saving my life,” I say. “And I promise to get some help, because I really do know that I need it. I’ll see you soon?” I try not to sound too pleading at the last part.

  He finally looks up at me and says, “Maybe. Now I have to finish this report.” He ushers me away.

  I turn to leave, feeling ever so slightly disheartened.

  “Next team lunch will be on Monday night,” he says to my back. “At Luca’s.”

  My heart leaps. “Team lunch?” I ask, pausing at the door, unable to believe it.

  “Yep,” he says. “Now that you’re a part of the team.”

  I turn around and look at him. He has picked up my lemon cake. He is looking at the cherry. He is smiling.

  I bite my lip as I watch him. It feels like everything I have wanted is about to begin, like I am painfully close to the life I have wanted. A little warm glow spreads through my heart.

  It subsides as I feel the little voice squirming at the back of my head in the place where I have determinedly boxed her in. She has grown strong, feeding on my need to avenge my mother’s death. Unless that need goes away, she will only grow stronger. She’s a damn sight more dangerous than she let me know, and there is no way I can let her back out. But she will break out, and I don’t know how I will stop her.

  The End

  Killer Moon

  Psychic For Hire Series

  Book 3

  by HERMIONE STARK

  Killer Moon

  By HERMIONE STARK

  What good is a psychic detective without her psychic powers?

  A killer werewolf is terrorizing London, brutally savaging young women every full moon. The young women look just like psychic-for-hire Diana Bellona, and Agent Constantine Storm has refused to hire her on the case. She can’t help anyway – in order to stop a dark little voice in her mind from taking over her body, she’s had to sacrifice her psychic powers. But now two girls have gone missing, and one is Diana’s new friend India. Diana is desperate to find India before she becomes the next murder victim, an impossible task without Diana’s powers. To make things worse India is a lone werewolf with a troubled past, and Detective Zael of the metropolitan police is determined to prove she is the killer.

  Can Diana find India and prove her innocent of murder before the next full moon rises? And can she do it without unleashing the murderous dark little voice from inside her head?

  Chapter 1

  DIANA

  Making friends has never been easy for me, so when a young woman my age in a leather jacket comes into Grimshaw’s on a Friday morning and tells me she lives in my neighborhood, it is a special moment.

  But I am jumping the gun. Let me rewind.

  Three weeks ago Theo Grimshaw, wizard, Purveyor of Needs, gave me a job. Cue victory music. A part-time job minding a magic shop disguised as a pawnbroker-slash-charity-shop might not sound like much, but after my previous hellish experience working in catering it is perfect for me. Especially since Theo is perfectly happy to give me the flexibility I need to come and go as I please should I ever get that call from Special Agent Constantine Storm that I’ve been waiting for.

  Three weeks at Grimshaw’s has been long enough for me to realize it is useless to spend my spare time constantly readjusting the merchandise. These days I have settled into slouching over the counter at the front of the shop and perusing various manuals of magic.

  This particular Friday I am trying to wrap my head around theories of demonic and spiritual possession and the like, keeping my eyes peeled for artifacts and rituals that can extract said demons and spirits, when the shop door rings to alert me to a customer.

  I give the girl who enters a cursory glance and go back to my perusing. It is hard to concentrate. I am sure that the typography of this book has been designed to beat me into submission. The text is tiny and slanted and cramped, and my currently fuzzy mind is no match for it. I’ve been crazy tired recently. I don’t know why since I’ve spent half this week trying to get plenty of sleep.

  The girl had returned my disinterested brief look before fixing her eyes on the array of second hand jewelry we keep within glass cabinets near the window.

  She has the look of a browser. A human customer. We don’t get many of them because Theo doesn't want them. He had been dismayed on my first day to find that I’d dusted the various used vases, home ornaments and bric-a-brac in the shop front. The point was to put human customers off, he said, not to invite them in.

  The real merchandise is in the larger hidden section at the back of the shop, through the solid wall that isn
’t really there if you know it’s not or if you have enough magic to not see it.

  The girl in her well-worn jeans and bright skinny vest is trendy, perhaps a university student. She doesn’t have the look of someone who can afford the pricier jewelry in our display. And as everything else is a lot of old tat I expect her to swiftly leave.

  A minute later AngelBeastie’s suspicious meow comes from the corner of the room. This is what alerts me to the fact that the girl isn’t just a girl.

  Beastie had been napping at the top of a tall bookcase, hidden from sight. She announces her presence loudly and obnoxiously, and pokes her head over the edge of the shelf. Her distrustful glare makes her fuzzy snowy face grumpier than usual. The girl did not start in surprise at Beastie’s sudden appearance. It is like she had known Beastie was there all along, though Beastie had been well hidden.