by Richard Amos
We’d tell the others, but we had to go right now. I just knew it.
“Thank you,” the man said. “Meet me at Wick Lane. I’ll take you from there.” He transformed back into the cat, a much quicker process than the reverse, and was gone.
Greg’s car was at the mansion gates moments later.
“Yes,” I said to Nay. “We’re on our way there now. I’m sorry, we had to move fast.”
“I’ll wake Dean and text Karla. Just keep going. We won’t be far behind.”
“Thanks.” I could tell she wasn’t too happy about us going off like this, but what else were we supposed to do? This could be something.
“Bye.” She hung up.
Greg got us down to Wick Lane in record time. It was a quirky street, not far from Mystique Square, terraced houses of various colors sloping upward. It reminded me of London’s Notting Hill. The gardens were tiny squares, a few with trees decorated with twinkling fairy lights, and most properties had hanging baskets now empty for the coming winter. Still, it was a colorful little stretch.
The road was one-way. Greg made his way slowly, me on the look-out for the cat-man. My hands were tingling, so he was somewhere nearby.
The sparks came to life when we rolled up to the junction at the top of the lane. There he was, sitting on the corner, tail sweeping the pavement.
Greg turned right onto the new road—a two-way street, not a lane—and found a parking spot. There were houses of regular brick, not pastel colors. There were low-level blocks of flats and a playground encased in a cage of metal bars. It was like two different worlds living side by side, Wick Lane and this road—Wick Avenue, leading to Broomstick Gardens, apparently.
I opened my door warily, always waiting for the day my power would interact with the surroundings and melt the door handle, possibly electrify the entire car.
The road was quiet, still in the moments before dawn, a place out of time and the rest of the world. There was no sound. I couldn’t even hear the sea or the wind. The only light was from the street lamps and my hands. The moon was smothered somewhere above.
The cat meowed, and I jumped. “Bloody hell!” I hissed.
The feline beast was on the move, heading east. I followed with Greg by my side in silence, on high alert as we passed the shadows.
A few strides down the road, the cat took us down a left turning, hedges taller than us on either side, sealing us into a narrow pathway. I tensed at the trapped sensation, but it soon passed as we entered a cul-de-sac—Broomstick Gardens.
Houses were aligned in a crescent shape, an apple tree stood tall and proud on the green in the center of the cul-de-sac.
The cat still led on. He headed for the pathway on the right side of this place, walking down a small connection walled by more hedges. What the hell was with this spot and hedges? I followed and soon arrived in an extension of Broomstick Gardens, a street of houses in a straight line that stopped at a dead end in the distance.
“Explains why we got out of the car,” Greg said. “Pain in the arse driving round this bit. Roads are a maze.”
The cat darted into the garden of number 49.
When Greg and I joined him, he was just finishing shifting back to human again.
“I trapped her inside,” he said. “I hope she’s still there.”
“Is this your house?” It was dark, just like the rest of its neighbors, aside from one window alight with what I guessed was the faint flicker of candlelight.
“Yes, yes.” He waved his hand across the blue door and the air rippled.
“What was that?”
“My trap released.” He shoved the door open.” Come on! Upstairs!”
We followed quickly up the stairs through the dark house. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I went to say something when the man was thrown across the landing, tumbling down the stairs.
Danger in the dark … Feed …
I jumped over him. My feet taking hold and forcing me onward, the sparks spitting violently.
The figure on the landing made me freeze. It was shrouded in darkness, a black cloak and hood disguising it fully.
Kill …
“Who are you?”
Greg was by my side.
The figure laughed, a feminine sound. She was wearing black gloves.
I stepped forward, and she turned on her heel, bursting through a door to the right, setting free the soft glow of candlelight within.
“No!” the man roared.
A crash, breaking glass. I darted into the room to see the black cloak through the broken window. She was already running, unhurt by her leap.
I turned to give chase before I saw the horror on Greg’s face, then found the source of it moments later.
Oh, my God.
The body of a woman was on a bed. Her chest was wide open, as if torn apart by a crazy surgeon. Ribs jutted out, blood glistening in the candlelight.
Her lungs …
There was so much blood. The woman’s eyes were open, her mouth wide. Her night clothes were crimson with only hints of the white they should have been.
I collapsed to my knees and threw up. My head started to pound as if my brain were beating its way out of my skull. I gasped for breath and puked once again.
“My love!” the man howled, throwing himself on the bed.
Greg crouched down beside me, putting an arm around me. “Fuck,” he said softly.
I reached for him, pulling him to me. He wrapped both arms around me, and I buried my face into his chest as much as I could, holding onto him for dear life. He was the rock in this sudden storm. If I held on tight enough, if I drowned out the sounds of the man’s terrible grief, I would be okay. I could just stay here and be safe and all would be okay.
Chapter 26
Dean and Naomi arrived ten minutes later. The cat had gone.
“Shit,” Nay said. “That’s Lucy!”
“You know her?” Greg asked.
I was still safely in his arms, denying the world beyond.
“Yeah, she worked in the leisure center, admin stuff. Bit of a hermit, so, so sweet.”
“Where’s the man?” Dean said.
“He went just before you got here. They were together.”
“Beast and a human?” Naomi said.
“Maybe it goes on more than we think,” Greg said.
“He didn’t make a move to hurt you?” Dean added.
“No. He … he was different. He said this was punishment for something—something he wouldn’t do.”
“Brutal,” Dean said.
“I don’t think he’d hurt us,” I said into Greg’s pecs. Still wasn’t surfacing yet.
“You don’t know that. Don’t jump to conclusions before we know more.”
“I’m not stupid,” I said, anger in my delivery. “I know that.”
Dean didn’t respond.
“We’ve cast a veil over the house,” Naomi said. “Mr. Douglas is coming with a van to help us remove the body. We have to work quickly, though.”
“What about the police?” I said.
“They can’t be involved. We can’t have crimes like this be out there.”
“But—”
“Gotta keep the harmony, babe.”
Layers and layers of lies. I couldn’t move, didn’t want to. It was so safe being stuck to Greg like this. Unstuck meant seeing the body and knowing the world was a cold one, full of horrors, full of the theft of love and happiness. I didn’t need to see what I already knew. No more, no more. Hadn’t I had enough of this shit? Yet the others had had far more than me, seen and experienced the horrors of Coldharbour in the years I was living it up, lost in drugs and glamour. They’d fought tooth and nail to keep this place as safe as it can be, to let these people think their lives were still going on as normal, trying to survive while they did it. I knew nothing, a compete rookie in comparison.
Time to get a fucking grip.
I unfolded myself from Greg’s embrace and unglued my face from h
is chest. He smiled at me, his big brown eyes so full of warmth and comfort. “You all right?”
I nodded and got to my feet, looking over to poor Lucy. “Tell me what I need to do.”
Dawn came. Looked like it might end up being a sunny day.
Lucy was petite and skinny, but her weight was more like lifting bags of cement. Putting her in the van, her body wrapped in her bed sheets, was bizarre. The action was no different to loading a van with furniture when moving house, yet the bloodstains were a constant reminder that there was a dead woman in my hands.
Loaded up, Mr. Douglas was off with his cargo.
I followed my companions back into the house where Nay proceeded to walk from room to room, throwing the contents of a potion vial all over the house. As the red liquid splashed the walls, it disappeared within seconds.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“A cleanser,” she said. “Removes what transpired. A little concoction from me and Dean.”
“Like super bleach.”
“Yeah. You could say that.”
“So, there’ll be no trace of what happened here?”
“That’s right. As of now, it never happened. When people walk by, they won’t even consider number 49.”
“What about the furniture?”
“It’ll stay and gather dust, unless that beast cat comes back to dust it. He’ll still know, just like we will. But the city won’t ever find out what happened here.”
“That’s so sad. What about her parents?”
“They passed away years ago.”
“Any other family?”
“Just her.”
“Bloody hell.”
“I know, babe,” she said, splashing the final contents of the vial on the landing. “Done.”
“I really need a cuppa,” I said.
Ruby was full of smiles as we entered the café. “Morning, darlings. Table for four over there.” She gestured to a corner to the right. “You all knackered. Tea? Coffee?”
“That’ll be lovely,” Greg said for us all.
We took our seats. It was quiet, save for a few early birds lost in their papers and eggs. Usually the smell of toast and bacon would get me fired up for a good feeding, but not this morning. Tea and a cigarette would’ve done, but just tea would have to be fine.
Needaline …
Trauma heightened the cravings of coke. It was fine, I’d just put three sugars in my drink to steady my nerves a bit.
Needaline …
The silence between was painful. I didn’t know how to proceed. Wendy’s killer was well and truly back on the scene.
Naomi caught my eye, clearly seeing my struggle. “Well, we’ve never encountered a cat beast or a surfer-dude one. Living with a human is a new one. I thought we were all food or toys to be played with before being murdered. No other intent’s been demonstrated.”
“Don’t expect me to have a new outlook just yet,” Dean said.
Ruby came over with a tray of tea, placing a cup in front of each of us, as well as a jug of milk. The sugar pot was already on the table, so I got to spooning it in.
“Enjoy,” she said. “Let me know if you want anything else.”
“Crystal in yet?” Greg asked.
“Yeah, just sorting out the bread. I’ll send her out before you go.”
“Thanks.”
She toddled off back to the counter.
“We’ll have to meet with cat-man again,” Naomi said. “Find out his name.”
“Don’t ever go on without us again,” Dean cut in, voice like an arctic wind.
“We had to make a choice,” I said. “It felt like a lead. And it was a lead … sort of.”
“What if it’d been a trap?”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. He was so right, but that didn’t stop me from being pissed off at his snappy attitude. “It wasn’t, though.”
“Don’t be careless, Jake.”
“I had Greg with me.”
“It could’ve been bad.”
“I know it could.”
“Guys,” Nay said, “come on.”
“I’m just saying,” Dean said. “It wasn’t smart.”
“Could’ve been worse,” I responded. “I could’ve gone alone, or we couldn’t have told you. It was one of those moments where we had to act quickly. Done. Failed miserably anyway. Got the lung-stealing killer still out there, who was much taller than Purple by the way so any theories about her being the one are out, and a dead woman whose beast boyfriend likes to be a cat. I won’t bother following any sort of a hunch next time.”
I sipped my tea, burning my tongue. I didn’t care.
“I didn’t say you didn’t have to follow your hunches.”
I shrugged like a petulant teenager, no longer giving a shit. Lucy had been murdered before cat-man had come to tell us, so there was no way of preventing it. Still, if the figure who’d got away hadn’t, if I’d gotten my hands on the beast, I could’ve brought some sort of justice, some closure to my friends.
Urgh! I hated the word closure. It was so final, too much like letting go. Oh, I’d read so much about moving on, about life being for the living, that we needed to find closure in loss. Bollocks to that! No matter what, no matter how much time passed, I couldn’t get beyond Michael’s death. Even with all of this, I still needed my revenge. Maybe that was my closure, then? I hated that, because it still wouldn’t bring him back to me, still wouldn’t move me on.
He wanted to move on …
Fuck. I hated that voice. I hated all the voices in my head. It was my head! Why couldn’t they vacate and let me be? Well, the voice of the goddess, or whatever it was, could stay, I guess.
I drank some more tea.
“I think we should go out tonight,” Nay said.
“Yeah right,” Dean said. “A Friday night?”
“I know we can’t really have a drink, but why don’t we have a dance? Blow off some steam?”
“We need to patrol, especially after this.”
“And that stopped Lucy being killed, did it?”
He said nothing.
“Look, I can’t stand this. We’re never gonna stop every murder. How can we? God, I sound like a heartless bitch.”
“You’re both right,” Greg said. “We have a responsibility, but we also need to live. Anyway, it’s all good for keeping up appearances and all that shit.”
Dean was silent in all ways, face free of any emotion.
“An hour,” Nay said. “To be normal. That’s all I’m asking. It’s been so long.”
Dean drank his tea, eyes flickering to me. I got what he was saying so fully. But hadn’t we just had some down time while on duty? Had he forgotten that?
“I vote yes,” Greg said.
“Good,” Nay said. “Jake?”
Was it wrong to look forward to something when you just saw a mutilated body? “Yeah, go on. Been a while.”
“I’ll wait outside,” Dean said. “Keep the car warm.”
“Oh, come on,” I said. “Can you brood at the bar?”
He didn’t so much as crack a smile at my light-heartedness. “No, thanks.”
“We’ll only be an hour,” Nay said. “I promise. Lots of patrols first.”
Dean gulped back his tea and stood up.
“Where you going?” I asked.
“For a piss.”
He didn’t come back.
Chapter 27
I found Dean sitting on a bench in the mansion grounds, smoking a cigarette. The bench was at the cliff edge, facing out to sea. It was cold, but sunny, the sky blue, the sea calm. It was the nicest day I’d seen here since I’d arrived. I tried not to think too much about the weather system, how that worked in a sealed off place.
“Can I sit?” I asked.
“Sure.”
I parked my bum beside him. Man, that cigarette smelled so good. It was tough being an ex-smoker. “How come you left on your own?”
He took a drag, blowing out the smok
e. “Had to get out of there.”
“Sorry, I guess we were being dick heads.”
He shrugged. “Don’t matter now.”
“It does. I don’t want to piss you off. We’re all on edge with this shit.”
“I just didn’t think it was the best time to suggest going clubbing.”
“It never will be. But like you said, we need to have fun.”
Dean kept watching the sea, smoking.
“Someone died,” he said. “That doesn’t make me wanna dance.”
“It’s about blowing off steam,” I said. “Not a celebration.”
“I know that.”
“We won’t go. Maybe it’s just too inappropriate.”
“They lost their friend the same way,” Dean said, “I think they get to do what they want.”
“But you—”
“I get it, as you know. I told you to have fun. But this … this has changed things for me. Why did that beast come to you?”
God, he was confusing!
“He wanted me to kill his girlfriend’s killer.”
“I don’t like it. What did they want him to do?” He blew out a smoke ring. “Some shit’s brewing and you’re at the heart of it. All of this is connected.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
He didn’t answer.
“Maybe you need to take your own advice and have some fun.” Guilt gnawed at me. A woman was dead. This was the worst kind of contradiction. “You’re right to be focused on this. Don’t think I’m not, or the others. But I can’t stand it, Dean, the images flashing in my head of her poor body, and of my husband’s, the fear I have every waking moment. And who I am to whine? But that’s how it is, and I need to get out of myself. Just for an hour. One hour. It doesn’t mean any of us are less focused. There can never be a true distraction anymore. Just a placebo, a sweet placebo to lift us out.”
He took a pretty long drag. “I’m still waiting in the car.”
“Fair enough.” The guy had the whole brooding thing down to a tee when he needed to play that card. In fact, that was his de facto stance it seemed, breaking out into a smiling ‘let’s have fun’ way now and again just to switch things up.
Or so I was starting to notice anyway.
I chewed my nails, not because I was particularly stressed, more out of it being a bad habit I couldn’t switch off.