Marilyn nodded and shot me a greasy smile, her small, pointed teeth flashing blue in the unnatural light. Her aura pulsed with joy at my potential misfortune.
“After you, Miss Taylor,” said Mr. Eldritch, extending an arm towards the door of his office.
As I stepped inside, I froze.
Fae bumped into me from behind with a gasp.
The whole room was adorned with death: Taxidermied animal heads lined the walls. A collection of stags, an elk, and a bear, decapitated, mounted on glossy timber.
On every surface another dead creature was perched. A skunk, a ferret, a squirrel, arranged in lifelike states of play. All dead. They stared back at me with glassy eyes. I swallowed hard.
“Oh, I see you’re admiring my darlings.”
“Your darlings?” I managed.
“I shot them myself,” he added. “Taxidermied them too.”
“You must be very proud of yourself,” Fae said, dryly.
Mr. Eldritch smiled. “I have to confess I am a little,” he said, her sarcasm obviously lost on him. “You see, taxidermy is tricky. A real art form. It took me years to master. You are taking something dead and rotting, and you are giving it life again.”
I stared up at the bear’s head on the wall, its sad eyes staring down at me. “You wouldn’t need to give it life again if you didn’t kill it in the first place.”
Mr. Eldritch laughed. “I come from a long line of hunters—I got my first rifle for my fifth birthday. My father was a rancher, and well, hunting pests goes part and parcel with the lifestyle.”
“Pests?” Fae spat. “You’re calling these creatures pests?”
“I understand that hunting is not very popular these days thanks to the vegan trend.” Eldritch rolled his eyes. “But the truth is that without it our forests would be destroyed. Deer are some of the worst culprits—you’d be surprised at how much vegetation they can chomp through. Squirrels damage trees, and ferrets are notorious for decimating birdlife.” He shook his head. “Hunting, I’m afraid Miss Seraphine, is an environmental necessity.”
“And stuffing them?” I fought the nausea rising in my throat. “Is that a necessity too?”
“No,” he said blankly. “I do that for fun.”
I felt Fae shudder next to me.
“I admit, it’s not for everyone,” Eldritch went on. “Peeling the skin from an animal requires a certain disposition. It’s certainly not for the faint of heart.” He made his way behind his desk. “To me, it seems a shame to discard something so beautiful. Like this, they can live on forever.” He picked up a ferret, its face frozen in a fierce scowl. “There’s also the added challenge of shooting a creature so that it can be taxidermied. Any imbecile with a gun can shoot to kill. The skill comes with maintaining a useful pelt.” He flipped the ferret over. “See? No bullet hole. A clean shot right through the eye.” He smiled and stroked the animal tenderly. “Go ahead.” He held it out to me. “Charles is incredibly soft.”
All these years I’d been so perplexed by Eldritch’s aura; the absence of any loved ones, the ever-present essence of carrion. But now it all made sense. These creatures were dear to him. They were his family. His darlings.
“Well I think it’s creepy AF.” Fae folded her arms at my side, her glowing gold aura trying to contain her anger. “Norman Bates creepy.”
Mr. Eldritch threw his head back and laughed. “Oh yes, I’ve heard that one before. Don’t worry; you won’t find my dead mother in the fruit cellar. She’s tucked up safe and sound at Pentacle Cemetery.”
I turned toward Fae. Her sickened expression mirrored my own. But she wasn’t looking at Eldritch, she was staring past him at a collection of framed photographs on the wall.
My aura pulsed with sadness and rage as I took them in: Eldritch dressed in beige hunting gear, smiling broadly with a dead grizzly resting against him, then a larger photo in a tacky gold frame of Eldritch standing over a giraffe, its long neck lolled at an odd angle on the dusty ground. But it was the last photo that brought the taste of bile to my throat. Eldritch, smugly cradling a Bengal tiger, blood staining its beautiful fur, its pink tongue drooping from its mouth.
“Oh my god…” Fae managed. “Oh my god!”
“Oh yes.” Eldritch beamed. “The Bengal! The highlight of my hunting trip in India. Such a magnificent animal up close. Sadly, I wasn’t able to bring a trophy back with me. Such a sh—”
“That’s disgusting!” Fae spat. “You’re disgusting!”
He rolled his eyes. “If you must know, Miss Seraphine, this animal had been terrorizing a nearby village. Children had been going missing. The villagers were desperate for a solution. But yes, like I said, hunting is not for the faint of heart.”
I shook my head. Had he never heard of a tranquilizer dart? I stared up at the photo, sadness heavy and cold in my stomach. Such a majestic beast, killed by a coward’s gun.
“Anyway, moving on,” Eldritch said, with a sigh. “Miss Taylor, the police are very interested in your relationship with Miss Slater; the two of you were involved in mutual bullying for years.”
“It was never mutual,” Fae snapped, her rage finally bubbling over. “Sheena has been picking on Bianca since kindergarten. Everyone knows it. But you never did a thing about it!”
It was my turn to calm Fae down. I placed a hand on her arm, though whether it actually helped I didn’t know.
Eldritch sighed. “As in all cases of bullying, there are two sides to the story. I’m afraid when it comes to Miss Slater and yourself, it has always been a ‘she said/she said’ situation. As the school’s principal it’s only fair that I remain impartial.”
Fae let out a theatrical laugh. “Are you serious right now? You’re saying Bianca was the one starting these fights? I assume you’ve heard about the fight yesterday? Probably even watched the video. What part of that was mutual? That was bullying 101!”
Mr. Eldritch aimed a slimy smile in Fae’s direction. “I think you have outstayed your welcome, Miss Seraphine. You may leave now.”
“But Bianca needs my support.”
“Bianca”—I think it was the first time he’d ever said my name—“is a big girl. She can look after herself. And as this is a matter for the police, I think it is probably best that you stay out of it.”
Fae took a breath. She looked like she was about to unload a torrent of insults.
“Fae, it’s okay,” I said. “You can go.”
Fae stood up, pulling her bag strap over her shoulder. “Call me.”
I nodded, momentarily forgetting that my phone was dead.
As Fae skulked out the door, the phone on Mr. Eldritch’s desk rang.
“Principal Eldritch,” he shot into the receiver. “Ah yes, Detective Jeffries, Miss Taylor is here in my office.” He smiled at me triumphantly, then paused to listen. “But won’t you be coming down here to question her?” He paused again, his brow furrowing in frustration. The detective’s reply was muffled by the receiver. “Very well.” Eldritch passed the phone to me. “Detective Jeffries.”
The receiver was warm where he’d held it. “Hello?” I said.
“Hi Bianca,” said a warm voice. “First of all, I am so sorry for the loss of your classmate, Sheena.”
“Oh, thanks.”
“Now, we understand that the two of you had a bit of an altercation yesterday?”
“That’s right.”
“Mmmm,” he replied sympathetically. “We’re trying to figure out what may have happened to Sheena, so we’re just trying to get as much background information as we can. Would you be able to zip down to the local police station for a chat with us?”
“Sure. Now?”
“Yeah, now would be great.”
“Okay. I’ve got my car, so I’ll be there soon.”
“Excellent. Thanks so much for your assistance.”
He hung up.
I listened to the dead line beep in my ear for a few seconds before I handed it back to Mr. Eldritch. I stood up to leave the room but stopped in my tracks. I let out a gasp. A large framed photograph hung above the door. Eldritch, standing stoically beneath a large sea creature that was mounted on the wall above him. It looked like a giant swordfish or a dolphin, but a long, grooved horn extended from its head, finishing in a sharp point.
“Ah yes, a male narwhal,” Mr. Eldritch said. “Not my handiwork, I’m afraid, but I bought it as a tribute to my late father.”
I cleared my throat. “A narwhal?”
“Yes. Also known as a unicorn fish. In the Middle Ages, narwhal horn was ground up and sold as unicorn horn. Did you know it was believed to have healing properties? While drinking the blood of a unicorn would make you immortal.” He laughed. “My father used to tell me fabulous stories when I was young. That he and my grandfather were hunters of magical creatures such as dragons, faeries and unicorns. He told me one day he would find a unicorn and we’d be rich.”
Eldritch’s aura shifted next to me, filling with a glow of nostalgia.
“I desperately wanted to find that unicorn for him. This” he said, staring wistfully up at the photo, “is the best I could do.”
A large lump had formed in my throat. “Well,” I managed, “unicorns don’t exist.”
Mr. Eldritch didn’t respond. I turned my head to find him standing beside me, his eyes locked on me. “It’s impossible to prove their non-existence,” he said, his aura swirling in curiosity. “Until one has searched the entire earth, the existence of unicorns remains a possibility.”
Sweat had formed on my upper lip. “I should go.”
As soon as I made it outside, I leaned forward and retched empty heaves into a lavender bush. Luckily my eggs stayed down. I inhaled deeply, willing myself to calm down.
Mr. Eldritch was officially a total creeper, and I was pretty sure that if he ever found out what I was he would shoot me, stuff me and put me on his wall. Or worse, sell my body parts for cash.
But I didn’t have time to worry about that right now.
I needed to get down to the station. I also needed to meet up with Sunder to continue my training so I could destroy the Skadhavar before they killed again.
I wiped my mouth and headed toward the parking lot.
Chapter Twenty-One
The doors to the local police station opened as I approached. My mom sat at the reception desk, a phone held up to her ear, another one ringing.
“Putting you through,” she said, before pressing a button and putting the receiver down. “Bee!” she said, rising from her seat. The other phone continued to ring. She ignored it.
“Are you okay?” She wrapped her arms around me, her aura doing the same.
I nodded, fighting the tears behind my eyes. “I just can’t believe this is happening.”
“I know honey, that girl, her poor family.”
We held each other’s gaze for a moment. The silence was loud with the words we would not say. My mom knew Sheena had tormented me since kindergarten. If someone had to go, it may as well have been her. Guilt burned in my stomach.
I swallowed, looking to the ringing phone. “Shouldn’t you get that?”
She sighed. “Just more reporters.” She picked up the phone. “Pentacle PD,” she said brightly. “Sure, putting you through.”
“Reporters?” I asked.
She nodded. “Ashland media’s been calling non-stop. Jim’s trying to hold them off, keep them out of town.”
“Have they talked to you? The detectives from the city PD?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. They were in and out before I got here. They should be back soon though.
I inhaled deeply. “What do I tell them, Mom?”
“You tell them what you know, honey.”
I leaned in towards her. “But Mom, what I know is that a deranged beast from another realm killed her. I can’t tell them that.”
“No, Bee, you can’t.”
When you grow up as part of the extended police family, you learn two things. Number one: Always respect the police; they put their lives on the line to serve and protect. And number two: Always tell them the truth.
But if I told them what I knew, not only would they think I was crazy, they’d also send people into the forest. They’d get killed. Or worse—turned.
The automatic doors slid open and hard shoes tapped against the floor tiles. Two men in suits entered. One tall, one short.
“Hi there,” my mom said. “You must be the detectives from city PD?”
“FBI, actually,” said the short one.
“FBI?” My mom said, her eyes growing wide. “Isn’t it a little early for that? This is just a one-off tragedy in a small town.”
“Well we’re not so sure of that, Ma’am,” the short one replied. “With one missing person case and now this—the violent death of a minor—this PD is out of its depth. And not surprisingly, no nearby counties wanted to put their hand up for this either.” He rolled his eyes. “Too many goddamn doughnuts to—”
The tall one cleared his throat, stopping him. “What Agent Peters here is trying to say is that we’re from the Investigative Division of the Violent Crimes Against Children program.” He slid a hand into his jacket and pulled out his badge. His hair was shorter in his I.D photo. “I’m Agent Jeffries and this is Agent Peters.”
Peters pulled out his badge too, holding it low in his chubby fingers.
FBI. My heart hammered in my chest. Violent Crimes Against Children? They think someone killed her. Not something. I felt dizzy.
“I’m Veronica and this is Bianca, my daughter,” my mom said, but Peters was already looking at me.
“Gee! You could use some sun!” he laughed. His brown aura reeked of whiskey—actually it could have just been him.
“Bianca?” Jefferies retrieved a notebook from his jacket pocket. “As in Bianca Taylor?”
“That’s right. We spoke on the phone.”
He looked to my mother. “I didn’t realize your mother worked with the local police.”
I shrugged. “It’s a small town.”
“Sure is!” Peters laughed again. “You guys need a Starbucks.”
The interview room was cold but not intimidating. I’d been in there before. When I was younger I’d come into the station after school and find somewhere to do my homework until my mom finished her shift. Pentacle being the small, peaceful town it was, the interview room was rarely occupied.
I took a seat on a plastic chair and knitted my fingers together on the table in front of me. Jeffries sat down while Peters waddled in and stood against the wall.
“Should I be here with her?” my mother said in the doorway. “She is a minor after all. Do we…need a lawyer?”
“Not at all.” Jeffries held up his hands to defuse the question. “We’re just having a chat. We need all the help we can get on this so we can figure out what’s going on around here.”
My mother narrowed her eyes.
Peters stepped over to her and spoke quietly “Teenagers don’t always open up with their parents around. Sometimes there are…things they’d rather they didn’t know.”
My mom bent down to me. “Bee, you don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to okay? If at any time you feel uncomfortable with the questions you can stop and ask for me.”
“I’m fine, Mom.”
She smiled and tousled my hair, then left the room.
“So, Bianca,” Jefferies began. “Tell me a bit about your relationship with the deceased, Sheena Slater.”
“We’ve known each other since kindergarten.”
“Were you friends?”
“No.”
“Enemies?”
“From her side, yes.”<
br />
“She picked on you?” he said, his eyebrows raised in concern or curiosity.
I nodded.
“Why?”
I smiled and gestured to all of me.
“I see. Because you’re…albino.”
I chose not to correct him.
“When did the bullying start?”
“From as early as I can remember. Maybe even kindergarten.”
“How did it make you feel?”
“Well not great. I didn’t like being picked on. Who does?”
He smiled softly. “What kind of things did she do?”
“Called me names, made fun of me in front of the class, sent me nasty text messages. In freshman year she stole my underwear during swimming class. Once she got a group of boys to throw my bag into the urinal. She pretty much just got a kick out of picking on me. Recently she’d taken to online bullying. Gotta move with the times, I guess.” I feigned a laugh.
“Wow. I’m sorry,” said Jeffries. His navy-blue aura was genuinely sympathetic.
“That’s some nasty stuff,” Peters said, coming to life. “I’m telling you, that’d piss me right off. Did it make you mad, Bianca?” The fluorescent lights reflected off his balding head.
“No. More sad than mad.”
“Why do you think that is?” he went on. “Most people would be furious, they’d want to get even.”
I smiled inwardly. Clearly, Peters was playing “Bad Cop.” Could he be any more obvious? “I could sense she was deflecting her own issues onto me.”
“Sense?” asked Jeffries.
I’d said too much. “I mean, I figured that’s what it was. Isn’t that what they always say? The bully is usually being bullied too.”
He nodded.
“Do you know much about her family?” Jefferies asked.
I shook my head. “She lives with her mom. Her dad isn’t around much. He comes back into town occasionally. That’s usually when Sheena has a go at me.”
“He’s in town at the moment,” Peters said. “Very upset. As you can imagine.” His whiskey-soaked aura throbbed with heartache. Heartache for his own teenage daughter he’d hardly seen since the divorce.
Bianca De Lumière : High Suspense Urban Fantasy Romance (The Re'em Prophecy Book 1) Page 12