Doomed Cases Series (1-3) Demonic Triangle Diabolical Quest Infernal Initiation

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Doomed Cases Series (1-3) Demonic Triangle Diabolical Quest Infernal Initiation Page 20

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz


  The elixir numbed the pain around my cheek and started to replenish some of my lost energy. I finally took a long deep breath. The torn skin needed to be stitched up and I most probably was going to have a scar. This wasn’t the usual magical injury so I knew that I wouldn’t heal on my own. I looked terrible—there was dry blood and skin in my hair, and my pupils were purple, and no one could miss the intensity of the colour.

  I managed to walk, so that was slight progress. Zachary was waiting for me outside the door; the forensics probably from his unit were already examining the body.

  “Wow that’s a nasty wound. Let me take care of that for you,” said one of the paramedics that pushed Zach away and dragged me to the bed.

  I let him take care of the bits of my skin since I was the only patient, after all. Natasha was lying dead on the floor and the A’rea had escaped. Suddenly the hotel suite was filled with people, mostly cops that were zooming around the crime scene. Once Zach was done with examining the body he stood by Rodney, the paramedic who was patching me up.

  “There are some flasks in the other part of the room, someone’s hair and nails,” Zach said, looking at me intensely. “What exactly happened here, Max?”

  Hair and nails were used in potions and elixirs. I was too busy trying not to die, so I didn’t have a chance to look at the odd stuff that Zach was talking about.

  I felt their presence even before they entered the room. Two Watchers showed some kind of identification to the policeman that was guarding the door and walked right passed him. I had always been wary of them, mainly because they had the authority to drag anyone they wanted to the underworld. These two looked like lawyers; both were slim, dressed in sharp black suits. The humans noticed that the atmosphere had shifted, that those two people inside were somehow important.

  The one with blue eyes stopped by the bed, eyeing me with interest.

  “Evidence, we need all of it,” he said, looking at me, but directing his request to Zach.

  “The table in the other room. Everything is there,” Zach replied, with a hazy look on his face. The humans just stared while the two Watchers scooped everything off the table, but no one dared to say anything. I could, but I didn’t want to risk being dragged down for interrogation. Once they were done, everything went back to normal and everyone continued to do whatever they had to as if no one had ever showed up.

  The Watchers always got what they wanted.

  Chapter 25

  “Soon you will be where your own eyes will see the source and cause and give you their own answer to the mystery.” ― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

  “I have never seen a body in such a terrible state. She looked like she had been dead for weeks,” Zachary said when he was taking me to the Accident and Emergency Unit. Will, the second paramedic, had done what he could, but my face needed to be seen by a plastic surgeon to limit the scarring. I refused to go to the hospital in the ambulance. I couldn’t afford to lie in bed when there was an A’rea on the loose, and I still had her scent all over my skin. Besides, I had a few other useful elixirs at home, and getting doped on human medicine didn’t particularly appeal to me.

  My whole body was like one open giant wound, and I needed some time alone in my dark flat to recover. Ricky had already been on the phone; apparently two Watchers had paid him a visit at Doomed Cases. The cold chills crawled over my spine when I thought about meeting them alone in the dark alley. Apparently they passed the evidence from the hotel room to him and asked him to assess it. Someone must have spilled the beans about us, and now our business was on their radar. My name had been linked to the missing royal. I didn’t mind getting free exposure, but Ricky and I liked keeping out of hell’s business as much as we could. It was bad enough that Cyril had gone through our files and now we were being investigated for conspiring against Lucifer.

  “Yeah, she was pretty messed up when I got there. It all happened so fast,” I explained, sinking back to my seat. I didn’t know what to say. Zach didn’t want to believe that the girl was alive when I got to her hotel room.

  Arthur had been scheduled to be in the meeting probably way before I got there, and I hated the fact we’d bumped into each other yet again. Fate was a stone cold bitch and hated my guts for some reason. I stayed with him and listened to his story, but I didn’t want to believe in it. The tiny voice in my head kept whispering that he was telling the truth. The Queen Mother was capable of sending him away, destroying our happiness. He did look for me, but I wasn’t in London, and I didn’t tell anyone where I spent the last six months before I came back. That transition was necessary and I had to get away from the mess that I created.

  Zach scratched his head. I could see he was wondering why he didn’t insist that I stay in ambulance. My cheek was covered in bandages and the throbbing pain was slowly coming back.

  Zachary was swearing at the driver in front of us. We were stuck in traffic for about half an hour. The roads were busy and I wanted to lock myself between four walls and just sleep forever. I hadn’t ever had that kind of beating before. Surely it wouldn’t be the last time either.

  “What were you doing up there alone anyway? Weren’t we supposed to be working together on this case?” he questioned me. He was pissed off too. That was standard for him, but this time it was more with himself than with me. He was at the station when he got a call about a disturbance in the Shoreditch, dealing with some pointless robbery, and he was blaming himself for arriving too late. I was exhausted, too tired and my throat was burning. Tonight I wanted to hit the bottle hard, but I was reluctant to get wasted, especially after what happened with Natasha.

  “I managed to track Natasha down through a spurious source, and I didn’t think that you would approve. Anyway I thought that I could just talk to her, but things kind of got out of control pretty quickly. She attacked me with the knife,” I explained, hoping that he would believe me.

  “Did she say anything about Prince George? Give you any further leads?” Zachary asked. I arched my head back, breathing calmly. This wasn’t a very good time to analyse my failed relationship with Arthur or the steadily growing attraction towards Zach. When the car finally moved, he looked at me, waiting for my answer. We were working together, and I was lying to him. How could this ever work?

  “No, she was screaming most of the time, like she was in pain. We have nothing to go on,” I said, looking away. I needed to put all the previous leads together and figure out where to head next. It seemed to me that hell was panicking, and Lucifer was determined to get to the bottom of who was conspiring against him. If that theory was even true.

  For about twenty minutes after that, Zach didn’t ask any more questions. I could barely walk when we arrived at the Accident and Emergency room. My elixir was fading and I was losing strength. After filling in countless forms, I waited an hour to get my face sorted. The young human doctor applied some anaesthetic and got on with putting my cheek back together. My abilities were slowly recovering, but my energy level was low, and my body wasn’t coping with the injuries that I sustained. Ricky kept calling. He was concerned about my health and the unexpected visit from the Watchers.

  “I’m going to take you home, Flower. You had a tough night. We can pick up this whole mess tomorrow,” Zachary said when several hours passed and I had taken at least four tramadol. Yeah, I couldn’t stand the pain, and after getting loaded on some painkillers my good mood came back. Zach seemed calmer and I wanted to tell him that I was willing to give him a chance. Maybe he could help me forget about the prince. I couldn’t keep going, pretending that I was in control of my life.

  “I need a drink, but I’m going straight to bed after that,” I told him, feeling guilty even saying that.

  He narrowed his eyes at me, scratched his sexy beard and said, “You’re not supposed to drink when you’re high on painkillers.”

  I waved my hand dismissively. “Maybe, but I don’t think I can stay sane without one.”

  “I want to take you out th
is weekend and, before you say anything, yes, it’s a date,” he said unexpectedly once we were heading back to the car. Warmth rippled over my face, heading down between my breasts and then further and further. I stopped for a second, thinking that he must have read my mind earlier on.

  “Right, so let me get this straight. You want to go out with me, and am I supposed to just say yes?” I asked, just to make sure that I wasn’t hearing things. The human painkillers made me feel good, and the pain was muted. My life was fucked up, but that didn’t really matter—I had a date.

  He turned around, staring at me with those dark eyes, like he wanted to kiss me. My demonic soul sparked when he was around, and when he ran his fingers over my face my future looked brighter. This sudden intimate moment between us pumped me with hope that there was still a chance for me. I wasn’t completely lost.

  “Yes, Flower, I’m asking you out and for the record I don’t do this very often,” he stated.

  I rolled my eyes. “So what? Do they just jump into your bed?”

  “Most of the time.” He chuckled, leaning over like he was really going to kiss me. Ah, what the hell. I could blame the painkillers. “You adore me, Flower, and I can’t wait to get rough with you again.”

  When he started walking away, I was kind of disappointed. Lust was soaring down my abdomen. The sparks were still there.

  “Okay fine, I’ll give this … whatever this is a go, but you need to take me home. I don’t think I can handle anymore excitement today,” I told him, not even knowing what I was saying. This date was going to be a disaster, but I was looking forward to it.

  “Good, glad that we’re on the same page. Trust me, once I’m done with you, Prince Charming will never cross your mind again,” he said, with a wink. I was too drugged out to come back with anything witty, and my mind stopped thinking about what was right or wrong.

  Zachary dropped me outside my flat an hour later, saying that he would be in touch. I sensed that he wanted to go upstairs and tuck me into bed. I talked him out of it and when his car disappeared in the darkness, I decided to go out. My intuition told me that this wasn’t a very good idea, but the craving won— I was dependent on tequila.

  When Paul saw me, he came out around the bar, looking pissed off.

  “What the hell happened to your face?” he asked, and a few people at the bar looked at me. I looked like shit, but that was part of the job. The local pub was packed and there was a game of poker going on at the back.

  “Long story. I had an unpleasant experience meeting an A’rea,” I said, when he stopped examining me. He sucked in a breath, and lifted his eyebrow in surprise.

  “The A’reas are locked up in pits, Maxine.”

  “Tell that to the one that tried to use my face as a nail file. She took over the body of the girl that I was going to question in a hotel room. She was sent there to kill her and then she attacked me,” I said, flopping on the stool. Paul went back behind the bar, disappeared for a good few minutes and then came back with a brand new bottle of tequila. The craving intensified and I didn’t know if I should just take it or smash it against the wall.

  “So the Watchers showed up, I presume?” He unscrewed the bottle and poured some into a shot glass. The guy next to me was staring at my wounds. He was half drunk, but that was okay. People needed to satisfy their curiosity.

  “Two of them, they took some evidence and made everyone believe that they were supposed to be there. An hour later I had a phone call from Ricky. They asked him to analyse whatever they collected,” I added, staring at the shot and knowing that if I drank it there was no going back. Natasha was dead, her body rotten and this was all my fault. I couldn’t blame tequila or the fact that my free will was completely screwed.

  “Max, I think you should be more careful. I know that you can take care of yourself, but you don’t mess with A’reas, and that particular one could have killed you,” Paul said, leaning over and giving me one of his looks.

  I nodded, still staring at the damn shot glass. The overriding feeling inside me wanted to numb everything, numb Arthur, the fucking secret and everything else. The solution was simple: I had to drink until I couldn’t use my brain, then play. The cards were going to be good tonight. There was no doubt in my mind and I had a chance to turn my luck around.

  “What’s wrong? You don’t want it?” Paul asked, looking concerned at this stage.

  “If I have this now, then I won’t stop. Things got really fucked up the last time I drank,” I told him, thinking about the way Natasha had suffered, about Zachary’s past and my whole fucked up existence. Things needed to change and tonight was the start.

  Paul scratched his head, appearing to be slightly confused. I’d never said no to tequila. Two years ago, when I was still working for the royals, I had occasional drinks during poker games, sometimes things got out of control, but then I knew my limit.

  “Do you want something else?”

  “No, I need to get my shit together and stop drinking, stop blowing all my cash gambling,” I admitted. “Give me a glass of soda and some time to think.”

  I didn’t have to tell Paul twice. A minute later he took the shot away and put the soda in front of me. I drank it in one go. My jaw was aching, my cheek was on fire. Hell, if I really was going to get sober, then this was the best time to start.

  Prince George was in London and maybe he was already dead, drained of his blood and soul. I had no other leads, and Alexis had warned me to stay out of this case. I had to start changing my life for the better, for the people in my life that were still important. There were other ways to push this through, but I had to at least try. The burning guilt was never going to go away.

  I had made so many bad decisions, exposed the demonic world and pretended that everything was all right.

  As I sat at the bar watching other people, it was maybe only the second time since my breakup with Arthur that I hadn’t touched magical tequila.

  The burning sensation was still at the back of my throat, even after some random human asked me to join him for a poker game. Somehow I found the strength in me to say no. Paul was shocked too and was ready to call Ricky.

  I suffered knowing that I was the one to blame for Natasha and possibly Jessica’s death.

  Now Zachary was part of my curse, and tonight after I went back to my flat, I decided to shift my priorities. I would still look for the prince, but I had to take care of myself first, my life. On top of that I needed to clear my name. Cyril was still around. He was investigating Doomed Cases, and this was my business, my only way of earning a living.

  When I dropped on the bed several hours after midnight, stone cold sober and completely aware of my inner demons, I knew that from tomorrow I was going to be a different person.

  Chapter 26

  “Faith is the substance of the things we hope for, And evidence of those that are not seen...” ― Dante Alighieri

  The next day I was woken up by my alarm, and I felt worse than I could ever imagine. Every part of my body hurt, and every move was a struggle. I couldn’t imagine being stuck at home until I was back to being my normal self. The A’rea had bitch slapped me good and proper, and on top of that my whole face looked like the swollen arse of a baboon.

  After coffee that tasted like the swill they served in hospital, I looked through the book of potions that I kept hidden in my bedroom. The red elixir made from the feathers of an angel (yeah, they existed too) was supposed to numb the pain. Normally the bottle of tequila was my usual salve to fix the problem, but I reminded myself that I was trying to turn my life around. I had a little bit of red potion left, and no ingredients to brew another one. It was time to pay a visit to a certain old lady, but even the idea of walking to the tube station scared me.

  Arthur was still on my mind, now that my brain was working at full speed and my thoughts were clear. I was struggling to cope with the constant ebb and flow of unexpected emotions. The red elixir started kicking in when I showered. Most of the t
ime it worked like Valium, but it was the magic with something extra boosting my immune system to advance my healing. Suddenly I could function, walk and do the usual nonstrenuous stuff.

  Fighting was out of the question, but at least I had some of my strength back. People, mostly humans, were staring at me as I made my way through the streets of Brixton. Mongrels and other demons could smell the charms on me, and the fact that the A’rea’s scent was still in my blood made me a bit of a target. Ricky wanted me to stay at home, but this wasn’t going to happen. I was bored out of my mind and I needed to stay busy.

  “Morning, Maxine, how are you in that…”

  Yep, Emma stopped talking in mid sentence when she saw me. She most likely had no idea that I got attacked last night. Humans weren’t aware of magical formulas, but I had taken enough elixirs to bring the attention of other mongrels and demons to myself. I always had to pay the price in the end and being called down to hell for using forbidden elixirs wasn’t on the list of my priorities. That’s why today I needed to stay out of any kind of trouble.

  “Chill. I’m fine. I was on the case last night and things got out of hand,” I explained, trying to calm her down. She was staring at me with her eyes wide and seemed very concerned.

  “Oh my God, but your face. Are you okay? You shouldn’t be here in that state. Go home and rest,” she said, leading me back to my desk. She was ready to walk with me back to my flat, which was sweet. No one ever fussed over me like this, even when I worked for the royals.

  “Emma, I’m fine, just get on with your work. Did Ricky say when he was going to be in?” I asked.

  “Maxine Brodeur, you’re not fine; you look terrible. Let me at least make you a cup of tea,” she said swiftly, never once considering that I didn’t need to be taken care of. “And Ricky is on his way. He was working late last night on some new evidence.”

 

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