So what did the sword mean? Did it mean that I was the killer that I thought I was? Such a natural born killer that I came with my own goddamn sword?
I worked late into the night searching on the internet, digging up any piece of information I could find about Darya Palmer, and Constance, Joshua and Leonie Ashbeck, hoping that some part of their lives might lead me to where Constance was now. My search was futile. I went to bed feeling even more frustrated than I had been when I’d begun. Frustrated and fine, because naturally my mood wasn’t going to allow me to feel anything but okay.
I’d probably have had better luck searching the Agency databases. I debated calling Remi or Monroe in the morning and begging for their help. Would they help me now? I had to solve this case. I couldn’t give up on it. The whole reason I had joined the Agency in the first place was to find DCK. I had given up my job thinking that I had the lead that I finally needed. And oh how quickly I had hit this dead end. I might as well not have bothered.
Every time I started to drift towards sleep, it occurred to me that my chances of finding DCK might have been gone forever. I should not have walked out in my job. I was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Storm had thought I was stupid too. I couldn’t rid myself of the look on his face when I had walked out. Disbelief, and maybe a hint of relief, as if he was tired of me. As if he was glad that I wouldn’t be his problem anymore. The thought might have made me cry if I had been capable of crying right now.
One thing had been certain. If Storm had cared about me at all, if he had one drop of the same feelings I had for him, he would have stopped me from leaving. I was sure of it. Because he had all the power. He could have persuaded the chief to let us informally investigate Leonie Ashbeck’s murder. It wouldn’t have been easy for him, but it wouldn’t have been impossible. He knew how much catching DCK meant to me, but he hadn’t trusted me enough to help me.
I wanted to hate him but I couldn’t. Because he had been protecting his employees’ jobs. Why did the man have to be a damned hero all of the time? And why did I have to like him so unreasonably much when he gave me absolutely nothing in return?
Just as I was drifting towards sleep I realized the one good thing about this whole thing. Tomorrow was Thursday morning. I had an appointment with Roopa. But since I had already lost my job at the Agency, there was no need for me to have therapy any more. Theo might not be happy with it, but I doubted that he’d fire me. I sleepily sent Roopa a text message saying I wasn’t coming in to see her.
Sleep claimed me, and I dreamed of a black rose. It was at the center of a vast space and I was trying to get to it. The space was full of a great many things that kept getting in my way. But I could see the rose. It was always ahead of me, and from it radiated that taunting laughter. If I could just reach it, everything would be okay. I had to get it. I tried so hard to get to it, but every time something got in my way. The rose laughed at me. It laughed at how pathetic I was. It laughed at the futility of my attempts. And then, when I finally reached it, when my fingers reached out to pluck it up, it crumpled into ashes, leaving me bereft.
I woke up in the morning and I didn’t even bother to climb out of bed. What was the point? There was nothing for me to do. I was due to go into Grimshaw’s after my appointment with Roopa, but sod that. Theo wouldn’t miss me. He could survive without me. His life would go on, and he’d be perfectly fine running his magic shop the way he always had. In my absence. I wondered if Roopa had called him to tell him that I’d canceled my appointment. I wondered if Theo had texted me to insist that I must go see her. I kind of hoped that he would have. It would show that at least somebody cared.
I reached for my phone to check my messages, and it started ringing. I stared at the screen, uncertain what to do. It was the last person and the only person I felt like talking to. It was Storm.
Chapter 20
DIANA
Storm asked me to come into the office. I couldn’t believe it. I pretended to be cool throughout the whole phone call, brief as it was, but my heart had been racing.
It was late morning by the time I got to Agency Headquarters. I had texted Theo on the way, apologizing that I couldn’t do my usual Thursday shift at Grimshaw’s and that I would explain to him later. When I got in, I saw the team assembled inside Storm’s office, huddled around the coffee table, talking intensely about something. I stood outside the glass door watching them, feeling awkward about going in. Finally I knocked, and Storm waved me in.
“Hey,” I said, still feeling a bit uncomfortable.
Storm and the team looked at me, and I looked right back at them, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, not quite sure what to say now that I was back at the scene where I had huffed and departed just yesterday.
Remi handed me a large paper cup full of a hot drink. I took a sip. It was a chai latte. It was lukewarm by now, but it tasted like the best chai latte I had ever drunk.
“We looked into the Ronin case,” she said, as if nothing had happened, “And we think you might be onto something.” She reached for the chocolate-hazelnut donut and handed it to me wrapped in a napkin.
I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously,” I asked. “You saved me the chocolate one?” It was a team favorite.
Leo looked annoyed. “Remi’s fault. Count yourself lucky because I would have eaten it by now.” He stuffed the remnants of a custard cream one into his mouth. I knew that he didn’t much care for that flavor but Leo was always hungry near a full moon, which was due on Saturday. It must have taken a great effort of will for him not to eat my chocolate donut.
I took a seat in the empty chair beside Remi, following her cue and pretending that we hadn’t all had a bust up yesterday, and asked, “So what did you find?”
When Remi told me that one of DCK’s former victims had been Steffane Ronin’s ex-girlfriend, Officer Tamara Westmoor, I was thrilled. It wasn’t quite proof, but it was a link! A strong one. Steffane Ronin had to have been telling the truth about knowing DCK.
I munched my donut and between bites I filled them in on everything that I had discovered so far from the Ronins and from Darya Palmer. They listened intently, interrupting frequently with questions. It felt good to talk about it with people who cared so much. Throughout it all I found it difficult to look Storm in the eye, as if we had fought about something unpleasant, as if I had something to feel guilty about. I suppose I did. I had gone against one of his direct orders to stay away from the Ronin case after all. I sensed that he was holding himself back from me too, and a new uncomfortableness filled the gap between us. I wondered if it was just me being hypersensitive to every nuance of his presence. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t know how to fix it either.
We discussed the list of suspects who could have killed Leonie if Steffane really had not done it. The list was pretty much the other Ronin vampires, and perhaps Constance Ashbeck herself. I had my money on Rodrigge or Marielle. I explained to the team that I had my doubts about Audriett too. She had lied about Leonie’s personality. Why lie about that?
Storm pointed out that perhaps Leonie had behaved more cautiously in the presence of the vampire matriarch of the household. Perhaps she had been wary of Audriett and so pretended be something that she wasn’t. This seemed a plausible explanation.
Storm gave us some more background information on the case, telling us that one of the strongest factors against Steffane Ronin in his court case had been Constance Ashbeck’s testimony. She’d said that her niece had been terrified that Steffane was stalking her.
She’d said Leonie had been looking forward to going away to university, and had secured a special placement and a scholarship to ensure that she could cope even with her illnesses. Leonie had been so excited. She had never thought she would get the chance to go to university, given that her XP had been so extreme. Constance had said that the university had suddenly withdrawn Leonie’s placement, leaving Leonie devastated. On further investigation Storm’s team had found out that in fact Steffane Ronin had call
ed the university, pretending to be Leonie’s guardian, and had persuaded them to reject Leonie’s application. Steffane Ronin had wanted to keep Leonie at home where he would have access to her.
I was not pleased with this news. It did not look good for Steffane Ronin.
“I still think that we need to speak to Constance Ashbeck. I think that she knows more than she said. Why else as she disappeared off the face of the planet?”
“You think that Constance was lying about the relationship between Steffane and Leonie?” said Remi.
“I think that Leonie Ashbeck was the life and soul of a party just like Steffane. I think the two of them sounded like they would get along really well. So why is everyone saying that Leonie hated him? It seems more likely she would have been flattered by his attention.”
“And you said that the mother Darya blamed Constance for her daughter Leonie’s death,” pointed out Leo. “She said there had been friction between Constance and Leonie. Perhaps Constance did have a reason to want Leonie dead.”
Monroe had been tapping away at his laptop for the entire time that we had all been discussing the case. Now he spoke up. “I can’t find any records of Leonie Ashbeck ever going to school. I had thought maybe she might have stayed in touch with one of her school friends who might know something interesting.”
“It’s because Leonie never went to school. She was always home-schooled by her mother, and then by her aunt and tutors while she lived at the Ronin nest.” Storm explained this rather distractedly. He was frowning at his phone which had just buzzed, telling him that he had a new message.
I could read his face. Something important had happened. “What is it?” I asked him.
“DCK has struck again!” he said. “A few hours ago in Edinburgh. A woman called Grace Newman. She is still alive! They’ve taken her in to hospital.”
I couldn’t believe it. “But he never leaves them alive,” I said. “Are they sure it was him?”
Storm had already risen to his feet, as if he was intent on going down to Edinburgh this very minute. He was still checking his phone. “Dammit,” he said. “They’re saying we won’t be allowed to speak to her until tomorrow at the earliest.”
Monroe had been tapping away rapidly at his computer, and then he suddenly yelped in excitement and said, “No way!”
We looked at him, surprised by his unexpected outburst which was not in character. His eyes had gone wide. “Grace Newman is Constance Ashbeck,” he said. He turned his screen around so that we could all see, and we all crowded to take a look. It was the record of a name change that had taken place six years ago. Constance Ashbeck had changed her name to Grace Newman.
“It can’t be,” Remi said. “This can’t be right.”
“It is,” said Storm grimly. “It’s her.” He held out his phone so that we could all see what was on the screen. It was a picture of a brunette woman, older now, but the same woman that I had seen in the photograph standing next to Joshua Ashbeck at his wedding. It was Constance Ashbeck.
“This was in the email I’ve just been sent,” said Storm. “Grace Newman really is Constance Ashbeck.”
My mind had been doing rapid calculations and the conclusion it reached left me breathless. “The Devil Claw knew it was her,” I said in quiet awe. “He knew it was her! He was helping us find her. He left her alive on purpose!”
Leo shook his head. “He’s never behaved that way. He never leaves them alive.”
“Exactly!” I cried out. “He found her for us so that we could question her. He knows that she can give us information that’s going to get Steffane Ronin out of prison. Why else would he have done it?”
“But why would he want Steffane Ronin out of prison?” said Monroe doubtfully. “How would he even know about any of this?”
“I don’t know how he knows,” I said. “But he has to know. Maybe he’s been keeping an eye out on Steffane Ronin. Maybe he knew that we were looking into this case! It would make sense that if Ronin knows who DCK is, that DCK would keep an eye on Ronin!”
“Why would he want to help us get Ronin out of prison?” said Remi. “If he knew about the deal that you made with Steffane, then he would want to do his best to keep Ronin in prison so that Ronin can’t tell us about his identity. Right?”
“He wants him out because Steffane Ronin really does know who the Devil Claw Killer is,” I said breathlessly. “He wasn’t lying. He really does know!”
“I don’t get it,” said Monroe.
“He’s playing a game,” I said, my voice high with excitement. “He’s taking us on and he thinks he can win!”
“He wants to kill him,” said Storm quietly, his brain clearly having reached the same conclusion that I had reached. “He wants Ronin out of prison so that he can kill him.”
The mood in the room changed immediately. It was charged with stunned realization and growing exuberance. Because after all these years hunting for Devil Claw he was finally within this team’s reach.
Leo said what everyone was thinking. “All we have to do is get Steffane Ronin out of prison. It will force Devil Claw to break his cover and come for him.”
“And we’ll be waiting for him,” finished Storm.
No, not you, I thought, though I did not say it out loud. It would be me who would be waiting for him. Me and my sword.
Chapter 21
DIANA
Storm and the rest of the team immediately departed for Edinburgh to look at the crime scene. Since we were not going to be allowed to interview Constance Ashbeck, or Grace Newman as she was now calling herself, until tomorrow at the earliest, I agreed that I would meet Storm at the hospital that Constance was in tomorrow.
I felt jittery, and at a loose end. I decided to call in at Grimshaw’s to talk things over with Theo, so I jumped onto the tube to head there. Finch had called me twice already, but I wasn’t in the mood to call him back. My focus was on Devil Claw. I wasn’t going to be able to help him with Zezi. Not until this was all over. It was proving difficult for me to even think about anything else.
Going to see Theo proved to be a mistake. All he wanted to talk about was the research that he had done on the Angel of Death, and this was the last thing I wanted to think about. I knew with absolute certainty that I was going to kill the Devil Claw, and I was hoping that would put an end to this whole killer urge thing. I wanted the haunting feelings that had been keeping me up at nights, the thirst to kill something, to die out. I wanted to move on with my life and be normal.
Theo was in no mood to let me bury my head in the sand. “There is no concrete information about the Angel of Death,” he said. “He or she is thought to be a legend. All of the information is hearsay. We know that the angelli are thought to be descendants of the angels themselves, and are extremely distant relatives with powers that are far diluted.”
“Death by words,” I muttered. “Theo, you’re killing me here.”
He ignored me, continuing, “And we know that the baena — succubae and incubae — regard themselves as descendants of Lilith. Some schools of thought claimed that Lilith, a demon, was a dark angel. However all of the stories of an actual Angel of Death himself, or herself, vary throughout each of the major religions. There is no record of there being any descendants of that particular angel, so therefore we have to ask ourselves whether you think that you are actually the angel herself.”
Theo sounded excited. There was nothing that he liked more than reading the many old books that he owned. I sensed that he was only just getting started, and I wanted to head him off before he made me spend hours sitting there listening to him. So I asked a purposefully stupid question to annoy him.
“What about vampires?” I said lightly. “They’re dark beings, right? The undead. Creatures of death. Evil, and all that. Does the Angel of Death have anything to do with that?”
Theo waved my suggestion away with mild irritation. “We have nothing to suggest that the Angel of Death herself is evil,” he insisted. “The va
rious accounts speak of an avenging angel, who while she may have dealt death, only did so in an avenging capacity to protect the people she had been sent to guard. Therefore there is no need to believe that the Angel of Death is evil in herself.”
It was weird that Theo was speaking of me as if I was this creature of mythology when I was sitting right there in front of him being a perfectly ordinary me.
“Really, Theo,” I said. “Let’s just forget I ever said anything about it. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe I made the whole thing up in my mind.”
Theo acted like I had not spoken. “Vampirism is a genetic disease mutation, often to humans in particular, which is transmitted through drinking a vampire’s blood when the victim is in a weakened state, usually drained of blood, to the extent that they are almost dead. This is so that the mutation can take effect on the weakened and dying body, and reanimate it. Werewolf-ism is also a genetic mutation, but this time on a living being, often a human. Goblins are the other major type of Otherworld beings that are found here on Earth, but they are actually a species unto themselves that are native to Otherworld. These three species do not claim to be descended from angels, so we can rule them out. Similarly the various other types of beings native to Otherworld claim to be creatures of magic but not necessarily descended from—”
Psychic for Hire Series Box Set Page 85