Sometimes I dreamed about that large scary church and now as I was standing in front of it my knees felt like paper. I started to develop my demonic abilities from a very early age. Other children were cruel and I was often punished for speaking the truth. The nuns were strict, but fair.
Fresh energy vibrated through me when I rang the bell. I felt weakened by the earlier encounter in the tunnels. Now I had to get it together and find out what this phone call was all about. The nuns made me wait a bit longer than expected, but eventually one of them opened the door.
“God bless you, child,” said the older nun smiling at me. I wanted to roll my eyes, I really did, but my voice of reason advised me to behave. “Can I help you?”
“I need to speak to Sister Mary. She called my place of work. My name is Maxine Brodeur,” I said, feeling tense. After all, my time in the monastery was lonely and at times difficult. I grew up feeling isolated and worried that I would hurt someone, not understanding what was happening to me. That’s why I hated hell, and the whole faction system. All the demons believed that we were beneath them. I didn’t belong anywhere.
The nun widened her eyes at me, mumbled something incoherent under her breath and then told me to follow her. Once the door was shut, overwhelming anxiety rushed through my body. This place was filled with a lot of sorrowful emotions. I sensed some happiness, but most of the sisters that lived inside felt trapped and lost.
I was lucky that I didn’t have to walk through the corridors in the old building. I hated how depressed these walls used to make me feel. No one was there and yet I was seeing nuns standing on the long corridors, staring back at me. The silence rang in my ears. I never thought I could live like that, sacrifice my life for God.
We reached a large open-plan hallway with an old wooden staircase. I couldn’t sense any demons nearby, but someone with supernatural abilities had visited these walls recently. The energy was faint. I couldn’t figure out if it was a mongrel’s or a Watcher. Either way, demons wouldn’t voluntarily choose to be trapped inside a monastery. Being in hell had taught them that freedom was important.
The old nun took me to the first floor. I couldn’t relax, and unexpected heat rushed down my spine, reminding me of the time when my energy was getting out of control and other kids called me a freak.
“I just let Sister Mary know that you are here,” the nun mumbled, and disappeared behind the heavy white doors. My heart beat faster, pumping way too much blood into my veins. Part of my demonic abilities were slowly restored, but I needed a good night’s sleep to feel like myself again. I tried to stop thinking about that letter and Arthur, but I needed to spare him the pain. The truth would cost both of us a lot, more than we were prepared to pay.
Several moments later, the older nun nodded to me to go inside. She shut the door behind me, leaving me alone with another nun, most likely Sister Mary.
“Maxine? Are you Maxine Brodeur, the girl that used to be part of the old orphanage based in the monastery?” the nun asked. She was younger than the nun that let me inside, with a clear beautiful complexion and small brown eyes. She wore the same boring grey habit, but with a darker veil.
“Yes, you called the agency. My assistant mentioned that you were asking about me,” I said, trying to remember if I ever met her before. Most of the nuns that dealt with me back in the day were either in a different monastery or they passed away.
Sister Mary seemed nervous, but her thoughts were easy for me to read. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to tell me anything. One of the nuns advised her to call the police straight away and not wait around with a matter that didn’t directly involve the convent.
“Someone broke in to the attic room last night. I had searched your name online and your agency came up, so I decided to call you,” the nun explained shyly. Wow, Emma indeed knew what she was doing on that damn laptop, but it was a bit unsettling that anyone could find me on the internet these days. “You’re a grown woman now. You left that life behind and I wasn’t sure if I should get in touch.”
“What exactly happened and why did you think this burglary had anything to do with me?”
“Your files were in that attic room along with the files of other girls that were part of the orphanage years ago. Other sisters believe that I should just call the police, but I thought it was the right thing to do to call you first,” she said, and my energy stirred inside me. “Someone was specifically looking for something in these old files. It seemed like the other documents weren’t touched at all, only yours.”
I swallowed hard, thinking about Nameless Thief. He was the first person that came into my mind. The bastard must have read the letter that I’d written to Arthur, and now he was hoping to find something that could backdate my claims. I tried to keep calm, but I felt like I was ready to blow up something.
“Okay, so what do you want me to do about it?” I asked, getting straight to the point. Sister bit her lip and then folded her fingers on top of each other.
“I wanted to give you a chance to see it for yourself. Most of the files had been locked up, and these are now inaccessible. The policies from a couple of years ago are still in place. I felt like the convent owes you to at least have a peek,” Sister Mary said.
Part of me burned with curiosity, the other was reluctant. I didn’t know much about my mother, other than the bits and pieces that I managed to find myself. Even after I turned eighteen, I couldn’t access my own files. Apparently someone within the church believed that the past didn’t need to be scrapped out.
“All right, let’s get on with it. Show me the attic,” I said, knowing that I probably wouldn’t get this kind of opportunity again. I should have called Ricky. Maybe that way I wouldn’t have to feel so vulnerable. Now when I was going back to my childhood I felt like a lot of people kept stuff from me. It never bothered me that I didn’t know my father, well, not until today.
Sister Mary nodded, got up, and moments later we were out of the room, climbing the steps of the old staircase. I couldn’t figure out if Sister Mary was happy living within the convent, but at that point I stopped pretending that I should give a damn and started thinking about tequila and maybe a game of poker later on. It was a hell of a day that wasn’t even over yet. No one ever asked me if I was happy being dumped in orphanages when my mother died.
Sister Mary had a bulk of keys with her. It took her a while to find the right one. The stairs to the attic room were narrow. I bumped my head a few times and then found myself in a very long and wide space that obviously had been vandalised, most likely several hours ago.
“I’ll just leave you to it,” Sister Mary said. I really couldn’t figure out why the hell she let me inside. She was obviously breaking the rules set by the convent. There were files, papers lying on the dusty floor. The light was dim and it kept flashing. I sensed the energy of a demon, stinging with mine, scorching around the dead space. There was no doubt that a demon was here last night, searching for something specific. I didn’t want to assume that it was Nameless Thief; after all, I heard that he was quite particular about the mess.
I started picking up papers with my name on it. I found my old birth certificate, the list of vaccinations, books with homework and my old grades. This whole thing seemed so surreal. It was like I was back being a child again, lost in the big world.
My throat was tight with emotion when I picked up an old black-and-white photograph of my mother. She looked young on it, probably in her early teens. I never thought that nuns would keep this stuff so tightly hidden.
My head started spinning, probably because my body still hadn’t regenerated from the blood loss. Besides, I hadn’t eaten anything since this morning and my stomach was rumbling. Moments like this made me appreciate the little that I remembered about my mother. A lot of boxes were untouched and when I found the bits and pieces that belonged to me, I was stunned by the diabolical energy that marked the edge of the box. I couldn’t explain it, but I recognised demonic frustration, and i
t’s fury. Someone was desperately trying to find valuable information about me.
When I lifted old boxes and moved some rubbish lying around with my foot, I spotted another photograph. It was my mother again, with the man next to her. They were sitting in some obscure London bar. Someone had deliberately burned his face with a cigarette. He had his arms around her and he held her closely. She looked happy in that picture and when I flipped it around, I spotted the date too.
“Seventeenth of June,” I muttered to myself, counting that it was a year before my birthday. The photograph was damaged and there was no way that I could tell who that man was next to the woman that gave birth to me.
When I leaned down, hoping to find some more, I saw the knotted hair lying on the dusty floor. My pulse spiked, and sudden panic riddled through me. It was the colour that struck me—shiny crimson red.
“The bitch,” I said, as the energy of my enemy crept down my spine. Alexis was here. She was the one that had burglarised this space, and the one that was searching for information about me. I stared at the hair for minutes, fuming with anger. I was certain that the hair belonged to her, but I could check that later on in the office.
Who else would dare to rummage through the attic, tearing apart all my fucking files? Her determination was alarming. She was searching for confirmation, proof that would allow her to destroy me. God, I really needed to up my game and find her before it was too late.
Ricky was right, we had a business that was our livelihood. Now I had to spread my energy, not only in order to find Nameless, but also to protect everything I ever worked for and more.
I continued looking for more postcards or photos, Alexis in the back of my mind. I was zooming through anything else that would help me with the search for my father, but apart from that one picture I couldn’t find anything else in this mess. I also needed to be careful not to leave any fingerprints. The nuns would eventually call the police, and I needed to avoid being questioned.
I had to keep the picture, it belonged to me, the state didn’t have any right to keep it hidden here. I should have searched for the identity of my father years ago, when I turned eighteen. After all, he was a demon that seduced my mother. Morpheus. So far that was the only thing that I had, his name and possibly part of that old photograph. In the memory that the Keres had voluntarily gifted to me, he stole the body of a human. Mum knew about his nature, but I still didn’t get why Morpheus didn’t want to reveal his true identity. At this point it looked like I was never going to find that out.
Chapter 14
“This miserable state is borne by the wretched souls of those who lived without disgrace and without praise.” Dante Alighieri
I didn’t go back to the office after my visit in the monastery. Emma was doing late shift today, taking care of all the phone calls. Ricky was out and I didn’t want to bother him. When I tried to get in touch with Zach, a woman answered the phone. She sounded like she could have been his mother, and that was a clear indication that maybe I should give him some space. I felt guilty that I left him alone when the other officers showed up and seriously considered telling him the truth about me.
It was in both our interest to track down Nameless Thief, but I didn’t think that Zach was in a position to focus on our investigation right away. He went through a lot and maybe he had to take time out, to restore his strength. I took the tube in Hackney and then decided that I could do with a weak drink of tequila. There was a possibility that one of reporters could eventually get their hands on the story about dead Princess Catherine and the fact that she had a steamy affair just before she died. Nameless Thief knew that he had a gold mine in his hand, and I hated that I didn’t know what he was planning.
The Broken Shoe was quiet tonight, and it was completely dark when I entered the pub. Paul was sorting his stock downstairs and some new barmaid was filing her nails, looking bored. This wasn’t what I expected. Devlin normally played on Tuesdays, but there was no one at the back. I headed down to the cellar to have a chat with Paul.
“Hi,” I greeted him as he sorted the empty bottles of beer. “Where is everyone? The whole place is deserted.”
“It’s quiet, Maxine, it’s before payday, just one of those days,” Paul replied with a shrug. My craving for tequila had to be satisfied, but I didn’t like drinking alone. I was sort of lucky Arthur hadn’t officially named me as a woman that had stolen his heart.
“All right, in that case I’m going home. Have you got any magical liquid for me?” I asked, fluttering my eyelashes. This never worked, but it was worth trying. Paul exhaled sharply, then went to the back. A moment later he came back with two bottles of tequila. My mood automatically brightened, but guilt scorched through my lungs. Yeah, I didn’t stick to my earlier resolution. Gambling away my money was one thing, but getting wasted so I could just forget was foolish.
“Don’t do anything stupid and be careful on the way home. Watchers are patrolling the streets and I don’t need to be investigated by those fuckers,” Paul muttered when I took the bottles and tried to hide them in my bag.
“Why? Is there something going on?” I enquired, still worried that Alexis was planning something serious. She wouldn’t attack me on streets that were filled with Watchers. I didn’t believe she was that stupid, but I couldn’t be sure.
Paul scratched his chin.
“I don’t know, but there are more of them on the streets than normally. I don’t like this, and they seemed to be watching the pub. A mongrel saw them on the streets last night,” Paul said, obviously not happy that he couldn’t get away from his past.
“Right, I’ll let you know if I find out anything specific. Just chill. You’re running a legitimate business and no one apart from me knows about the tequila,” I assured him, knowing that this wasn’t the whole truth. Ricky knew that I had been drinking alcohol infused with magic. Getting high on demonic energy wasn’t illegal, but using it to produce tequila was something that hell definitely didn’t approve.
“Just be careful, it’s a new formula, so don’t drink it all at once,” he reminded me when I was heading out.
“All right, Daddy,” I said, shaking my head. Paul was a good guy, but he didn’t know how much I needed this shit just so I could sleep at night.
On the way back to the flat I tried to call some guys to see if they were up for a game of poker at my place. No one answered their phone, even Devlin, and that was not something that I expected from him.
I stripped out of my clothes, locked the door, and poured myself a highly anticipated shot. It was just after eleven o’clock, and after another near death experience I was allowed to have a little chill out moment.
Ricky had left me a note on the table.
You should clean up, Maxine. You have rotten food in your fridge!
The nagger was pushing me to change my lifestyle, knowing well that I wasn’t ready to move on and act like any normal human being. I ignored the note and indulged myself in my own misery.
I didn’t know how much time had passed. Maybe half an hour or maybe three, but by the time I got up, my legs were wobbly and I was truly wasted. My insides didn’t burn like usual and for some reason I didn’t feel any better about Zach, Arthur or my past. I was still a pathetic mongrel that couldn’t say no and stop drinking. I couldn’t keep telling myself that I had reason, that my darkness was shading every bit of my stupid soul.
I must have fallen asleep in my underwear on the floor while watching trashy TV, but a strange noise woke me up. When I glanced at the clock it was quarter to three in the morning and someone was knocking at my door.
I stumbled over my clothes and some spell books that lay everywhere. I cursed the fact that I was too lazy to clean up, cursed the fact that someone was ready to pay me a visit at that time in the morning. Maybe Ricky was right. I had to get a grip, save some money and move to a nice, proper apartment.
The knocking persisted, and I swore one more time and then opened the door. For a split second
I thought I was hallucinating. There was no way that the prince had decided to pay me a visit in the middle of the night. He must have found my address through the press. After I vanished I made sure that my name wasn’t listed under any specific address, and Mrs. Patel had promised to keep my details confidential, but I didn’t think she respected my wish. I was still pretty much drunk, under a strong influence of magic.
“Hey, Maxine, you look rather delicious,” Arthur chuckled eyeing me up and down. Behind him was Jonathan along with some other guards. It took me a moment to actually grasp that a) Arthur was very real and b) I was only in my underwear.
On top of that Jonathan was pretending that I didn’t exist, that I wasn’t standing in front of him half naked. Classic Maxine, this is just the way to do it.
I wasn’t modest, and Arthur had already seen everything that there was to see. Yeah, that was my tequila mind talking.
“What the hell do you want? It’s three o’clock in the morning,” I said, forgetting that I was supposed to say “Your Highness” in front of his guards. There were a few more outside, one a demon.
Arthur turned around, ignoring my question.
“I’ll be here for a while, just blend it. I don’t want any paps on my back,” Arthur said, ignoring my question. Then he just walked inside like he owned the place, and shut the door behind him. An instant dose of heat swallowed me down like I was underwater, unable to get back up. Now my plan failed, because he was inside my flat, staring at me totally aroused.
“Arthur, how did you find me?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest. “You need to leave now. What if someone sees you?”
I stopped myself from compelling him with my energy, although Arthur had proven on a number of occasions that he was immune to my abilities. I hated tampering with any human’s thoughts anyway.
Doomed Cases Series (1-3) Demonic Triangle Diabolical Quest Infernal Initiation Page 34