ã€ŠGhost Of Glasgow (Immortal Stonekeeper Case File #2)ã€‹


 Chapter 1: Distress Call

    There''s a first time for everything. Falling in love, marriage, heartbreak... Murder, even.

    Fortunately, people get used to most things. Life goes on for those who do. And for those who don''t... Well, let''s just say there''s a reason why bad things happen in the world despite humanity''s best efforts. But like they also say, there are some things you never get used to.

    And for her, it was the stench of death.

    Paranormal Investigator Anya Mikhailovna Sechina walked up the battered path leading up to a gaudy porch, her nose wrinkling from the foulness in the air. For better or for worse, the man beside her was either too oblivious or too unbothered to let it stop him from yammering in her ear.

    "...So what do you think about that?" Jonathan Warner chattered away excitedly. "The memories of our past lives are stored in our souls. I can''t believe the key to reincarnation is just a handful of soil and a spell away!"

    "Save it for later, Jon. We''re here," Anya hissed as the brownish-white door loomed ahead of them.

    Her hands fiddled nervously around the cold metal of her car keys. She shuddered internally at the unpleasant familiarity of this whole situation. The last time they visited a house this secluded, a murderous vampire almost killed her. There was no doubt that her immortal friend beside her would protect her like last time, but the face of death was a little too grotesque to stare down one too many times.

    A sharp rapping of knuckles on wood shook her back to her senses. The door opened almost immediately.

    "What do you want?" a lanky man greeted them rudely. His clothes stank of cigarettes, and there was an unusual darkness hanging around the corner of his eyes.

    Anya reached into her coat-

    "Metropolitan Police." Jonathan flashed a name card and kept it before anyone could take a second look. "We''ve received a disturbance complaint, as well as reports of suspicious activity in your house. We have a warrant to search it. May we come in?"

    "Disturbance complaint?" The man''s eyes narrowed in remarkable anger, before letting them in grudgingly. "Fine. Come in."

    Nervousness pooled in Anya''s stomach. This was the only house in miles. Jonathan was being way too upfront with that obvious lie. If they could not find the evidence that they needed, today would be their last day working in the Paranormal Bureau.

    Anya flashed a small smile at a woman in the corner that did nothing to calm her down. She observed her actions surreptitiously; the curly-haired woman was visibly trembling in fear for some reason.

    Ceramic rattled lightly as she picked up a teapot and began pouring into a cup.

    "There''s no need for that, Madam Wright." Jonathan grabbed her hand gently for a little too long, as though inspecting her wrist. "We won''t take long."

    "Hey, you coppers better not take all day." The man folded his arms, eyeing the two strangers carefully. "If this turns out to be a waste of my time, I''m lodging a formal complaint to your department."

    His voice dropped sinisterly, his gaze flitting to his wife. "And I''ll be dealing with those nosy neighbours of mine."

    The duo headed up the stairs.

    "Please tell me you''ve got something," Jonathan whispered to Anya, who was already wearing her disillusionment goggles. "My third eye isn''t seeing anything out of place. Any traces of vampiric magic?"

    Anya tapped the goggles twice, discreetly snapping pictures of the murky dark essence that littered the corners of the house. She heaved an internal sigh of relief; at least the call to the Supernatural Hotline was not a bogus one this time.

    "I''ve got plenty," she said, following an increasingly more obvious trace of magic remnants to the bathroom. "Bingo."

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    The investigator picked up a black ring from the edge of the basin, examining it intently. It was unnaturally dark, as though any light that fell upon its surface was simply absorbed into its blackened crimson shade.

    "Ring of the beast..." Jonathan breathed. "Protects vampires from the sun for an hour. Case closed, I suppose. There really is a vampire living in this house. Shall I call for backup now?"

    Anya stared at the ring for a while, before shaking her head slowly.

    "Something''s wrong. It''s all too easy, almost as if the traces of magic purposely led us here." She looked at Jonathan. "There''s also this... odd corpse stench lingering in the air."

    "Yeah, I''ve noticed it too. It''s been hanging around ever since we walked into the vicinity of this house." Jonathan took a deep whiff, before coughing violently. "Goddammit, that man is smoking again."

    Anya''s gaze fell upon the jars of cigarette butts that decorated the house, before taking off her goggles. She closed her eyes to collect her thoughts.

    A brief moment passed.

    "Jonathan, let''s head back down," she said, opening her eyes again.

    The true purpose behind the call was obvious now.

    ~ ~ ~

    "So, did you find anything? Or am I going to waste my afternoon writing to your department?"

    Anya smiled politely at the man as she shook her head. "We did not find anything. Apologies for wasting your time, sir."

    "What? No! Please, you must''ve missed something!" the woman screamed without warning, falling to her knees before the investigators. "Please check the place again carefully! I beg of you!"

    Anya pursed her lips. That was all the confirmation she needed.

    Jonathan helped her to her feet. "Calm down, Ma''am. We simply need to have a few words with your husband here. My partner here will speak to him privately. Not to worry, I won''t let any harm come to you."

    The man stomped up towards him. "What are you two playing at now-"

    Anya blocked his path. "Please cooperate, sir. I simply need to know a little more about your family."

    "This better not take long," the man said, following her to the upper levels of the house. "I have things to do."

    The investigator took out a flimsy notebook and flipped to an empty page. The other pages were wrinkled, filled with diagrams and scribbles. Although she had only worked in the Paranormal Bureau for about five years now, the amount of supernatural disputes was not lacking in any sense of the word.

    "How long have you known your wife?" Anya asked without taking her eyes off the man.

    "About sixty- I mean, thirty years ago."

    "Both of you really have maintained your looks, haven''t you? You don''t look a day above forty." Anya flashed a fake smile as she closed her notebook. No point recording blatant lies now.

    "How long have you lived in this house?"

    "I don''t remember- Is there a point to any of this?" The man''s expression darkened further. "Stalling for time won''t stop me from lodging a complaint, y''know."

    "Just... being friendly, that''s all. Alright, one last question and we can wrap things up." Anya kept her notebook and straightened her body.

    "How much longer do you intend to hide the fact that your wife is a vampire?"

    The husband jumped to his feet in shock. "W-what? Just who are you?"

    "Investigator Anya Mikhailovna Sechina, authority of the London Paranormal Bureau." Anya snapped her fingers, and a glowing badge materialised beside her. "Mister Alfred Baker, we have received a call regarding domestic abuse of your supernatural spouse. You are under arrest for unlawful confinement and illegally syphoning vampiric essence."

    The man hissed as skin began melting off his face. Black soot coated his cracked lips while hair fell off his ashen white skull. His eyeballs shrunk into their sockets, leaving two red irises barely visible from the darkness within.

    Anya drew her gun, keeping it trained on the man who had grown another fifty centimetres in a mere few seconds.

    "Since vampires can heal quickly, any physical evidence of your domestic abuse would be covered up." She stood her ground, unflinching. "But the smell of cigarettes isn''t enough to mask the stench of your bitter magic, lich. I have already gathered enough evidence of the traces of your magic rituals."

    "You dare challenge my necromancy?" the lich roared.

    "You have the right to remain silent-"

    Anya ducked as a black wave of magic swooped over her head. It struck the wall instead, dissolving a huge chunk of bricks. The lich lunged towards her this time. She raised her weapon, firing a couple of glowing bullets at him.

    The living corpse dropped immediately, his corrupted magic rapidly escaping his body like a deflating balloon.

    Anya slowly lowered her gun as footsteps stomped up the stairs. A small group of men armoured up in dull-coloured anti-magic suits greeted her with the shrill whistling of hoovers, sucking away all the stray magic in the air. A few more people came in and hauled the lich away.

    "Anya!" Jonathan called out, pushing his way through the paranormal cleanup crew. "Goodness, are you alright?"

    "I- uh... Yes, it was no trouble. Good call getting the cleanup crew just in time." The woman blushed slightly. "Thanks for asking, Jon. Are you-"

    "I''m fine," Jonathan stated flatly and walked off. Anya''s face fell, and she turned to the men in suits before her disdain became too obvious.

    "That''s good, thank you very much." She gestured at the ceiling. "Do me a favour and splay-freeze the corners over there as well, will you? The bitterness in the air is killing me."

    The men nodded and moved further into the house.

 Chapter 2: Partners

    Jonathan walked out into the living room, where Anya was comforting the sobbing vampire on a plain-looking sofa. He sighed softly. To be rid of an abuser was a good thing, no doubt about that. But the loss of someone who you were supposedly meant to spend your life with was still painful.

    ¡°Thank you so much¡­ Thank you.¡± Madam Wright shook uncontrollably, her words barely comprehensible through the blur between her sobs and a unique-sounding Scottish accent. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know how much longer I could¡¯ve taken his beatings¡­ How can I ever repay you?¡±

    ¡°Well, you can always leave us a positive feedback at the supernatural hotline.¡± Jonathan grinned.

    ¡°You willingly revealed yourself by leading us to the evidence just so you could escape your husband. You were lucky we realised that the true monster was someone else.¡± Anya patted the woman gently. ¡°That was very risky¡­ and brave of you.¡±

    Jonathan gave them a wry smile. ¡°Anya, Forensics are almost done with the evidence collection. Shall we-¡±

    A woman walked up briskly to the investigators, cutting him off abruptly.

    ¡°Detectives, Forensics have found something else in the backyard,¡± she said urgently. ¡°Please take a look.¡±

    The investigators followed her out.

    Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows as he took in the sight before him. The ground had been dug up, revealing the mummified remains of a woman. For better or for worse, the majority of her corpse had been preserved, which only made it look even more repulsive.

    ¡°Well, that certainly put a twist in today¡¯s events. Wasn¡¯t expecting two cases on the same day¡­¡± he mumbled. ¡°What do you think, Anya?¡±

    ¡°Whoever this is, she has magic.¡± His partner pointed at the warm glow around her body. ¡°Light magic, to be specific. Could¡¯ve been a witch.¡±

    ¡°You have a good third eye on you.¡± He chuckled dryly. ¡°Light magic, huh? I suppose the lich couldn¡¯t have been the murderer.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡± Anya nodded. ¡°All that light would¡¯ve torn his blackened soul into shreds.¡±

    ¡°No!¡± A hysterical scream cracked the humid air as a figure shot past both of them, falling to her knees.

    ¡°The deceased is Mylis Wright,¡± the forensic lead¡¯s cool-sounding voice drifted by Jonathan¡¯s ears. ¡°Preliminary analysis shows that she has been dead for about sixty years.¡±

    ¡°Mylis Wright?¡± Anya looked at her incredulously. ¡°Hang on, the missing witch in that sixty-year-old cold case?¡±

    The Paranormal Forensics nodded grimly. ¡°Yes, the very same. It seems we¡¯ve finally found her body after all these years. Poor Morevia¡­¡±

    Jonathan cast a look of pity at the bawling vampire who had to be dragged away from her sister¡¯s corpse. He whispered a prayer of condolence, before bending down to examine the corpse.

    Electrical sparks hopped between his fingers and the corpse as he hovered his hand over the sunken cheekbones. He turned its head to the side, examining a strange symbol branded on its cheek. The man tilted his head slightly, feeling a faint force pull his hand towards it. Curiosity took over.

    For better and for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish¡­

    Jonathan gasped audibly and pulled his hand away. He shook his head, trying to clear it from the strange voice that had just spoken in his mind. Jonathan looked at his hand again, but nothing had changed.

    ¡°Jon, you alright?¡± Anya scurried over, kneeling beside him. ¡°What happened? Why did you yell?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I did?¡± Jonathan mumbled. ¡°I¡¯m fine, I think.¡±

    ¡°Well, let¡¯s not get in the way of our forensics.¡± Anya helped him up. ¡°We have a new case on our hands. Come on, let¡¯s discuss this somewhere more comfortable.¡±

    The relic on her neck glowed slightly as she formed a triangle with her fingers. Red light fizzled around her fingertips before she broke the connection. An oval portal burst out from her hands immediately.

    Jonathan followed Anya and walked through the portal.

    ~ ~ ~

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    The air was saturated with the smell of coffee beans and Earl Grey. Thankfully, there weren¡¯t many people sitting around at this time of the day, or the duo would¡¯ve had a hard time explaining what kind of shining portal they had just stepped out of.

    Ever since the incident involving Boris Lopez, Jonathan was lucky enough to be recruited almost immediately by the Immortal Association. The true one, that was. Led by the changeling Angus, its members were, thankfully, left to their own devices and simply enjoyed small personal benefits.

    In Jonathan¡¯s case, his ¡®benefit¡¯ was employment at the Paranormal Bureau, an inconspicuous department within the Metropolitan Police that handles paranormal disputes. It didn¡¯t earn him a mountain of credits, but it was enough for him to live comfortably. And most importantly, it allowed him to be with his lover, Anya Sechina.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a while since we¡¯ve got to chat in a place like this, isn¡¯t it?¡± Jonathan took a sip of his tea. ¡°What¡¯s it been, five years? Since we joined the Paranormal Bureau, that is. And it¡¯s been non-stop work for us.¡±

    ¡°Is there a problem with that?¡± Anya gave him a wry smile. ¡°We¡¯re partners, aren¡¯t we? We¡¯re already spending so much time working with each other.¡±

    ¡°Partners? That¡¯s what we are?¡± Jonathan¡¯s voice faltered a little.

    Anya had spent less than a year working as a full-time sheriff at the Scottish Witch Market before opting to join Jonathan in the Paranormal Bureau. Angus agreed in a heartbeat. After all, it was always better to have more people who actually know magic to be part of them. Normally, it would¡¯ve been nice to be working side by side with the person you love every day. But Jonathan was anything but normal now.

    The woman across from him looked away, using her cup of espresso as an excuse to avoid eye contact with him. Jonathan opened his mouth hesitantly.

    ¡°You know, I thought we were more than that-¡±

    The cup clanged loudly on the table.

    ¡°Are we, now? Well, bloody act like it, then.¡± The disdain on Anya¡¯s face was fully visible now, at least to Jonathan. ¡°It¡¯s been four years, Jon. Four years since we¡¯ve been working together. But every time we talk, you always put up a wall between us. I thought you wanted to be with me.¡±

    ¡°But I do, Anya. I really do!¡±

    Anya shielded her eyes for a brief moment. ¡°What exactly is our relationship, Jon? Are we dating? Chasing leads, protecting the supernatural world¡­ Is that what you call a date? Can¡¯t we just go out like normal people?¡±

    Jonathan shifted uncomfortably.

    ¡°I¡¯m not normal, Anya. Not anymore. And we can¡¯t be together forever; you know that.¡± He downed his tea as though it was a shot of whiskey. ¡°I¡¯m immortal now. We¡¯ll never grow old together. There¡¯s no point committing so much into a relationship.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just¡­¡± Anya huffed for a few seconds while Jonathan braced himself for an outburst. Thankfully, it didn¡¯t hit him.

    ¡°Forget it, we have work to do anyway.¡± She sighed, showing him a picture of the strange symbol branded onto the corpse¡¯s face instead. ¡°I don¡¯t find that familiar. Do you?¡±

    The man shook his head. ¡°Me neither, but look here- three balls of gold. That¡¯s a reference to Saint Nicholas. And judging from the way this is drawn on her face, I¡¯d say this symbol is about eight hundred years old.¡±

    ¡°Another immortal?¡±

    ¡°Could just be long-lived,¡± Jonathan muttered. ¡°Even centaurs can live up to thousands of years. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if whoever killed and branded the victim found a way to artificially extend his life. The question is, why kill Mylis Wright?¡±

    ¡°More importantly, who is Mylis Wright?¡± Anya mused as well. ¡°I remember seeing this cold case back at the Bureau. The circumstances surrounding her disappearance were dubious. In fact, it was only brought to light because of the recent serial murders around her area.¡±

    Jonathan paused for a moment, before looking at Anya warily.

    ¡°You know, there is someone who might know more about this¡­¡± he began slowly, hoping Anya wouldn¡¯t react too badly.

    ¡°Lucy, right?¡± the woman said nonchalantly. ¡°Good idea. You should go ahead and ask her.¡±

    ¡°You¡­ You¡¯re really okay with me looking for her?¡±

    Anya¡¯s expression darkened again.

    ¡°What are you implying, Jonathan Warner?¡± she folded her arms, clearly insulted. ¡°Did you forget I know her too? And I know she¡¯s like a Mom to you. Why would I stop you from seeing her? Do you really take me for that kind of woman?¡±

    Jonathan flinched internally like a bunny in a thunderstorm. Damn it, why were women so unpredictable? One moment she complains about lack of commitment, and now she¡¯s feeling insulted because he asked her for permission to talk to another woman.

    ¡°T-that¡¯s not what I meant,¡± he stumbled over the imaginary loose laces on his tongue. ¡°I just thought you¡¯d be¡­¡±

    His voice trailed away as Anya¡¯s glare got more painful by the second. Her lips contorted into a snarl.

    ¡°You-¡±

    A beeping sound interrupted the woman, saving Jonathan from whatever horror was about to spew out from her mouth. Jonathan fished out his phone as well, staring at the message flashing on its screen. He looked back at his partner, but she had left her seat.

    ¡°Anya, wait up!¡± Jonathan waved at the woman, who had already opened a portal to her motorbike.

    ¡°For what?¡± she said. ¡°The location¡¯s closer to my house, so I¡¯ll be riding there. Go ahead without me.¡±

    The portal closed.

    Jonathan shrugged, looking around to make sure no one else was in the vicinity. Electricity danced around his body as he bent down like a sprinter about to begin his race. He kicked off the ground, feeling his body break the sound barrier in less than a second.

    And the world smeared into a blur.

 Chapter 3: Run, Forest! Run!

    ¡°What¡¯s the situation?¡±

    Jonathan lifted the cordoning tape, bending his body slightly to go under it. He took a look at his surroundings; the Paranormal Bureau was efficient, no doubt about that. It had barely been ten minutes since the first emergency broadcast, and they had already managed to direct the public away from the crime scene.

    ¡°We¡¯ve done the best we can, Inspector Warner.¡± A freckled agent clutched his radio tightly with one hand, leaving the other free to hang around his weapon holster.

    ¡°Meaning?¡±

    ¡°Meaning we boxed her up in that section of the Subway.¡± An older and obviously more experienced agent stepped in before the young agent accidentally shot out his own foot in a nervous fit. ¡°Not like we had to do much anyway. She¡¯s already laid her roots there, literally.¡±

    ¡°Oh Cornelia, what are you up to now?¡± Jonathan sighed out loud.

    ¡°We could blow up this whole place, but that would just mean killing off the last Dryad on Earth,¡± the older agent said grimly. ¡°To make things worse, she¡¯s filled her domain with poisonous gas. We can¡¯t get through, but you can. Talk your friend down from this, will you?¡±

    Jonathan nodded wordlessly and climbed down to the train tracks.

    His surroundings lashed out at him the moment the gas hit his nose. He kept his mouth shut and ceased his breathing immediately. Barbed roots, perfectly camouflaged with the grey walls they laid against, pulled themselves out and swung around violently.

    They were easy enough to avoid, considering the speed Jonathan could move, but they were still annoying to deal with. Jonathan shook his head as the world slowed down around him again. He didn¡¯t have time to deal with her nonsense.

    A burst of speed later, he found himself under a tree canopy. Fortunately, the gas emitted by the roots did not reach this deep, so he was at least able to speak now.

    ¡°Who goes there?!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Jonathan, your old friend!¡± Jonathan yelled back at the shrill voice.

    He had met Cornelia during his first mission with the Bureau, right after he¡¯d received the invitation to join the Immortal Association. That forest Dryad was the jumpy sort, mostly due to human deforestation, but she had found a friend in Jonathan nonetheless. Now, he could only hope their friendship would save her from being blown up by his nervous colleagues.

    A wall of vines parted, leaving a hole for Jonathan to walk through. He smiled slightly; that was a promising start.

    ¡°Cornelia, hey¡­¡± the man cooed as though he was calming a wild horse down.

    His gaze shot to a small group of children wrapped in a huge leaf as though they were part of a gigantic Mexican tamale. They were still breathing, thankfully, but greenish translucent eggshells were already beginning to form around their unconscious bodies.

    The man pursed his lips; he had less than half an hour before their bodies merged with the eggs completely.

    ¡°Jonathan?¡± The Dryad tilted her pink flower-like head to him as vines unwrapped themselves from her body, revealing a stalk that served as her torso. ¡°I beg of thee. Thou must protect me. Thou must help me.¡±

    ¡°Is it the pollination season already?¡± Jonathan laughed nervously. ¡°I don¡¯t see how I can help you with that. My¡­ ¡®pollen¡¯ isn¡¯t compatible with your species. Why don¡¯t you release those children first? I¡¯ll see to it that you¡¯ll breed successfully.¡±

    ¡°No, no¡­¡±

    The ground shivered as Cornelia twisted her body frantically. Jonathan stifled a gasp, only then realising that he was standing on a huge platform of intersecting roots.

    ¡°My end is nigh!¡± Cornelia screamed hysterically. ¡°I hath divined my future, and it is nigh! She is coming for me¡­ She is coming for me! I must needs use the spawn of men to bear mine brood now before I perish!¡±

    That¡¯s not good¡­

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    ¡°Calm down, Cornelia. I¡¯m here, alright? I won¡¯t let any harm come to you.¡± Jonathan approached her carefully, doing his best to ignore the pockets of yawning darkness poking in from below the roots. ¡°Who is coming for you? How did you¡­¡±

    The man¡¯s voice trailed away, only then noticing the familiar symbol on the Dryad¡¯s head. His eyes widened in recognition.

    ¡°Cornelia¡­ when did you get that?¡± He pointed a shaky finger at the branded pattern.

    The Dryad¡¯s bug-like eyes trembled in fear, seeming to notice the branding on her emerald skin for the first time as well.

    ¡°I am marked! I am marked!¡± Cornelia screamed again. Jagged thorns protruded out of her vine tentacles as she desperately tried to claw out the symbol to no avail. The ground shook in her frenzy, and the leaf holding the children dropped onto the floor.

    ¡°Corne-¡±

    Jonathan¡¯s body slammed against the wall. He stood up, ducking immediately as another huge root swung over his head. Electricity charged in his hands. He did not relish hurting his friend, but he had to knock her out before she buried herself alive along with him and the children.

    A blinding flash of light burst from his hands, striking the Dryad cleanly. Cornelia shrieked in pain, before swatting him away once more.

    ¡°Bugger¡­¡± Jonathan muttered as cracks began to spread rapidly along the subway walls. This forest nymph was tougher than he remembered. Blue light flared from his eyes as he increased the voltage, preparing to strike again-

    A dark figure flew overhead out of nowhere, diving into Cornelia¡¯s head. The petals fell apart as it plucked out her bud and disappeared into the distance.

    ¡°No!¡± Jonathan yelled after the shadow, but he had problems of his own now.

    Metal groaned as the roots holding the subway tunnel went limp. Jonathan staggered around the tumbling floor, before giving up and choosing to fall instead. He frantically crawled towards the children like some kind of legless abomination and grabbed the leaf stalk.

    Thankfully, the leaf was still wrapped tightly around them, which saved him the trouble of carrying five children with his bare hands. The speedster¡¯s body tensed with focus, and he broke into a full-powered sprint.

    Metal and rubble rained all around him as his footsteps tapped the crumbling ground lightly. The tunnel was collapsing fast, but Jonathan was already outrunning gravity¡¯s hungry pull. Still, the devastation was catching up, and he was quickly running out of solid platforms to run on.

    He took to the walls instead, taking care to step away from the cracks. Darkness yawned below him as the last of the floor collapsed beneath him. His heart raced with adrenaline. If he was by himself, he wouldn¡¯t have minded simply falling into the hole. Given his invulnerability, he¡¯d survive the fall without a scratch. But he had five young lives at stake now, and he¡¯d be damned if he lost even one of them today.

    Jonathan broke into a wide smile as light loomed ahead of him. The children were safe now. He tossed the gigantic leaf at the small group of people waiting anxiously for his return. Relief flooded his body as they caught it-

    ¡°Shit!¡± Jonathan yelped as his foot stepped on nothingness. The disintegration had caught up to him.

    He pushed against a falling piece of the wall and leapt for the subway platform, praying for the best. His hand desperately stretched for the cement floor, but only managed to brush his fingertips against it. The man yelled, flailing his arms as he fell into the abyss-

    Warm fingers wrapped around his wrist as he looked up in surprise.

    ¡°Got¡­cha.¡± Anya¡¯s face was strained with effort as she held on tightly to him. There was a flurry of motion as well, and Jonathan¡¯s body was slowly pulled back to the surface with the help of the other agents.

    He lay on the platform for a moment.

    ¡°Is¡­ everyone safe?¡± he asked no one in particular, finally deciding to get up on his feet. His gaze fell on the rest of the agents, who were nearly done chipping away the eggshells surrounding the children. Jonathan heaved a sigh of relief; at least he had managed to save these ones.

    ¡°Warner, what happened back there?¡± The older agent scurried to him. ¡°You didn¡¯t manage to talk Cornelia down? You didn¡¯t kill her, did you?¡±

    Anger flashed in Jonathan¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Seriously, Winchester?¡± he growled. ¡°You seriously think I¡¯d kill a friend of five years? Who do you take me for?¡±

    Winchester stared at him grimly.

    ¡°...But yes, she¡¯s dead.¡± Jonathan tightened his jaw. ¡°Negotiations were going well until a dark figure flew in from nowhere and plucked her brain out. That¡¯s why the tunnel collapsed.¡±

    ¡°A dark figure?¡± Winchester folded his arms. ¡°If I didn¡¯t know you, you¡¯d already be in handcuffs for coming up with such a terrible lie. But I suspect there¡¯s more to this.¡±

    Jonathan opened his mouth to argue, but the agent raised a hand to interrupt him.

    ¡°It¡¯s not any of my business; I¡¯m just part of the clean-up crew,¡± Winchester said. ¡°But you might want to discuss with your partner how you plan to answer to Angus for letting the last Dryad on Earth die on your watch.¡±

    Anya walked over to him on cue with Winchester¡¯s exit.

    ¡°Thanks for saving me, Anya.¡± Jonathan flashed a small smile at her, which gave way to a more serious expression almost immediately. ¡°Cornelia was branded with that strange symbol as well. Do you think it¡¯s related?¡±

    Anya¡¯s expression darkened.

    ¡°Tell me everything.¡±

 Chapter 4: Solid Lead

    Three hours later, Jonathan found fifteen errors in a single sentence.

    He pushed himself away from the glaring computer screen and closed his eyes in frustration. Darkness flooded the empty Paranormal Bureau as Jonathan switched off the computer. That was the last straw. He was never good at writing investigation reports anyway.

    To hell with these damned paperwork. If Angus had questions, he¡¯d have to talk it out with him instead.

    Like his previous alias as the mafia boss Oliver Harred, Angus was exceedingly good at creating and maintaining organisations. Of course, that could also have been due to his vast experience as an immortal changeling. But even so, most immortals were still only barely half as clever as him.

    Other than being the founder of the Immortal Association, this fae had also founded the Paranormal Bureau within London¡¯s police department to look after other supernatural creatures. Jonathan was grateful for the stable job offered to him as a Paranormal Investigator, but he had to be careful about screwing up too much. Angus may have been nice to him so far, but he was a businessman through and through. If Jonathan had lost all value to him, there was no stopping the fae boss from firing him immediately.

    The man¡¯s mind drifted back to the symbol again. Whatever it meant, it was most likely a serial killer¡¯s sick ritual of branding his victims before killing them. And given how easily it killed Cornelia and Mylis Wright, this murderer was definitely no ordinary mortal.

    Jonathan¡¯s heart stung with guilt. Other than being a good friend, Cornelia was an innocent nymph who had only just found solace in the Paranormal Bureau after being driven out of her home so many times.

    But she had just perished in front of his eyes, and there wasn¡¯t a damn thing he could do to stop it. The worst part was, Cornelia could have been a solid lead to Mylis Wright¡¯s murder since she clearly recognised the symbol.

    Jonathan stared into the distance, musing hard. What was she so afraid of? Why was she so desperate to get rid of the symbol? And why did the serial killer choose to re-emerge now of all times?

    As a sanctuary of warmth and peace. I pledge my love, devotion, faith and honour as I join my life to yours¡­

    ¡°What the hell?¡± The man looked around him, opening his third eye just in case.

    He scanned the room. It was devoid of any presence other than his own, including the spiritual ones. Jonathan smacked his head a few times as if to shake the unfamiliar voice out. A shiver went down his spine. Of all the things he could hallucinate, it just had to be wedding vows.

    Jonathan shook his head, making a mental note never to tell Anya about it. He¡¯d never hear the end of it. Electricity fizzled around his eyes as he prepared to speed up again. There was only one person he knew who was old enough to have at least heard of this symbol.

    He broke into a run, heading straight for Lucy Carpenter¡¯s residence.

    ~ ~ ~

    ¡°Jon! So nice of you to visit!¡±

    Jonathan¡¯s face turned red as Lucy pulled him into a tight hug. That woman may be nearly a thousand years old, but her eternal youthfulness was exceedingly good at persuading him otherwise.

    ¡°How¡¯s my favourite vampire doing?¡± He reluctantly pulled his face away from the pair of nice, warm pillows before he got smacked by their owner.

    ¡°Good, good. Look, I made you some new clothes.¡± Lucy picked up a hand-crocheted jumper from her table and thrust it in his face. ¡°Among other things, of course.¡±

    The man spun around slowly in a circle, quickly losing count of crocheted clothes lying around the house. He stifled a giggle. Considering how often he had seen the vicious side of this vampire, it was almost endearing to see that she had picked up such a tame hobby to spend her days.

    Jonathan plopped himself on the sofa, taking a small sip of tea.

    ¡°So what brings you here?¡± Lucy asked. ¡°Women problems? Need some advice about what¡¯s on Anya¡¯s mind? You didn¡¯t hook up with someone in that club down the street, did you?¡±

    ¡°I-uh¡­ what? No, we¡¯re fine,¡± Jonathan sputtered, avoiding her sharp gaze. If there was something universally scary about the long-lived, it was how easily they could read people.

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    Lucy kept her silence as well as the smug-knowing look on her face. She was smart enough to know she was right, and obviously wise enough to know not to push the subject.

    ¡°But you¡¯re right; I do need your advice,¡± Jonathan said as the vampire raised an eyebrow. He pulled out his phone, showing her a picture of the branded symbol.

    ¡°Do you recognise this?¡±

    Lucy¡¯s expression darkened quicker than the sky in a solar eclipse as she studied the symbol intently.

    ¡°The Ghost of Glasgow¡­¡± she whispered. Jonathan¡¯s heart leapt; at least he had a promising lead now.

    The woman cast an uncharacteristically frightened gaze at him. ¡°Jon, why are you asking about this? What do you have to do with this symbol?¡±

    ¡°We just found the corpse of a witch who was branded with this symbol,¡± Jonathan replied grimly. ¡°My Dryad friend was killed today. She was also marked with this very same symbol. Is there any significance to it?¡±

    Lucy gripped his hand tightly.

    ¡°You must need tread carefully, boy.¡± Her voice had dropped to a whisper. ¡°This mark is no good omen. I fear she is back, and I do not know why.¡±

    ¡°Who is back? What can you tell me about this symbol?¡±

    ¡°Centuries ago, there was a killer on the loose. And she was not just any ordinary murderer; this¡­ thing was frighteningly good at hunting her prey down. It didn¡¯t matter who they were, human or monster. She killed them all the same. To make things worse, this hunter kills indiscriminately, and there is no discernible pattern to the victims of her choice. As such, many of us chose to form factions for protection and go into hiding.¡±

    Jonathan tilted his head in mild confusion. ¡°I suppose you¡¯re referring to the ¡®Ghost Of Glasgow¡¯. But why that name? And why do you refer to it as ¡®she¡¯?¡±

    ¡°For one, most of the murders took place in Glasgow back then. This killer not only left behind no evidence but also always managed to vanish without a trace. Hence, the superstitious folk of the twelfth century simply chalked it up to an act of a ghost,¡± Lucy explained. ¡°The only eyewitnesses were us supernatural folk, who had our magic to aid us. But even so, most of us only managed to get a glimpse of a female-like figure from afar. Nobody dared to move in for a closer look.¡±

    ¡°Do you think it really was a ghost?¡± Jonathan asked.

    Lucy shook her head. ¡°I know not. Whoever she is, she was exceedingly good at hunting us Nephilims down. Personally, I suspect she is immortal since these murders went on for several hundred years without anyone daring to stop her.¡±

    ¡°Hold on, you said she was ¡®back.¡¯ That means she eventually stopped at one point in time, right?¡±

    ¡°Strangely enough, she stopped her murder spree rather recently. I think it was only sixty years ago when people stopped getting branded by that symbol. Nobody had even come close to catching the Ghost Of Glasgow, so I really can¡¯t fathom the reason behind her abrupt retirement.¡±

    Jonathan slumped back in defeat.

    ¡°Well, except for this one person who was only rumoured to have defeated her¡­¡±

    He sat back up. ¡°Really? Who-¡±

    Jonathan¡¯s mouth slammed shut as Lucy¡¯s hand shot up in warning. Skin retracted as the vampire¡¯s ears slowly morphed into a pair of bat ears. Red covered her irises as she stood up, looking around her.

    ¡°A hostile intent is present,¡± she announced, walking towards the window to close it-

    Glass shattered without warning as Lucy fell back. Jonathan gasped, rushing towards the woman clutching her chest with a blood-stained hand. A silver bullet dropped onto the floor as he dragged her body behind the wall.

    ¡°It hurts¡­ Why does it¡­ hurt so much? P-please, Jonathan¡­¡± Lucy¡¯s lips were frighteningly pale as she gripped his hand tightly. ¡°I¡¯m scared¡­ I don¡¯t want to die¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll be alright, you¡¯ll be alright¡­¡± Jonathan¡¯s voice shook, resting her heaving body against the wall.

    He poked his head out slightly. Something shiny reflected from two blocks away, and he pulled his head back before it could spot him. It was some kind of sniper, no doubt about that. But why target Lucy-

    Blood splattered from beside him as a second bullet found its way through the concrete wall. Jonathan flinched, feeling the bullet bounce off his forehead. Lucy was not as lucky.

    ¡°Lucy!¡± he screamed, shaking the woman as blood rapidly pooled on the floor. ¡°No¡­¡±

    His hands shook as they picked up the silver bullet that went straight through Lucy¡¯s head. He dragged her unconscious body deeper into the house before looking out of the window. Jonathan¡¯s eyes narrowed; the shooter was clearly visible now. Anger flooded him.

    And the world froze.

    Half a millisecond later, Jonathan was running up the walls of the ten-storey apartment two blocks away. He lunged at the masked shooter with a growl, slamming it across the rooftop. The assassin struggled to its feet, but was promptly kicked back to the floor.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Jonathan pinned it down with all his strength, barely concealing his anger.

    Electricity crackled in his hands, and the shooter took the chance to twist its body away. Jonathan tumbled to the ground with a yell. He gritted his teeth, stretching his hand towards the escaping sniper-

    And only managed to grasp the air as the assassin transformed into a puff of smoke.

    ¡°Dammit¡­¡± Jonathan pulled out his phone in defeat. He gave it a few taps and put it to his ear, waiting impatiently before finally hearing a soft click.

    ¡°Angus, Jonathan here. I need some medical help from the Immortal Association. Lucy is badly hurt.¡±

 Chapter 5: Stranger Danger

    Jonathan found himself staring blankly at a white wall, ignoring the peculiar gazes of the even more strange-looking hospital occupants. A small part of him wanted to simply speed up and go for a run to clear his head; to somehow find an answer to his predicament.

    But taking laps around the country wouldn¡¯t exactly help his situation now, and he didn¡¯t want to fall back into his old habit of running away from problems.

    He put his hand on the room window, feeling its cold surface do nothing to soothe his worry. Demonic symbols surrounded the solitary hospital bed. Talismans pulsated as dark magic flowed from them into the veins of the woman. Her face was serene, almost as if she was merely sleeping. Well, except for the two huge holes in her head that were closing way too slowly.

    The faint reflection of a young man came up on the window.

    ¡°If it¡¯s any comfort, she¡¯ll live,¡± Angus, in his now eighteen-year-old body, muttered in Jonathan¡¯s ear. ¡°But her body needs time to heal. Whatever struck her, it wasn¡¯t meant to be fatal.¡±

    ¡°Not fatal?¡± Jonathan turned to the changeling. ¡°I¡¯m no expert, but I¡¯m pretty sure a silver bullet to a vampire¡¯s head was meant to kill.¡±

    ¡°There was protection magic around the bullet wound, Warner. If it was an ordinary silver bullet, Carpenter would¡¯ve been in oblivion before her body hit the floor.¡±

    Jonathan pursed his lips wordlessly. He wasn¡¯t in the mood to argue with a fae about the semantics of magic. All he wanted was to stop this psycho-hunter from hurting those he cared about.

    ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know what you¡¯ve gotten yourself into,¡± Angus began. ¡°But-¡±

    ¡°A serial murderer,¡± Jonathan answered flatly. ¡°Someone or something is hunting us down for some reason.¡±

    Angus folded his arms. ¡°So I¡¯ve heard. Cornelia¡¯s death was particularly upsetting to me. The last Dryad on Earth¡­ gone just like that. Did you wrong somebody?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Jonathan took a step back in shock. ¡°I don¡¯t think so?¡±

    ¡°Well, there is one thing suspiciously in common between Lucy and Cornelia. Both of them are related to you.¡±

    Jonathan paused for a moment, thinking hard. Thin as it may seem, that correlation had its merits. The sniper he had almost caught could clearly wield some sort of magic too. Either that or it wasn¡¯t even a living entity to begin with, considering how its body seemed to be untraceable. But still, something did not add up.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not true,¡± Jonathan began slowly. ¡°Ever heard of the ¡®Ghost Of Glasgow¡¯? Before Cornelia died, she was branded by its symbol. That serial murderer was already operating seven hundred years ago, and I was only born thirty-five years ago. How can those murders be related to me?¡±

    ¡°The Ghost Of Glasgow¡­¡± It was Angus¡¯ turn to muse. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of it, but I never really knew the details. I believe the spate of murders started taking place during the thirteen hundreds when I had barely just hatched. I was pretty much the equivalent of a teenager, so I wasn¡¯t affected. By the time I was fully mature and ready to swap souls, the Ghost Of Glasgow had already faded into urban legend.¡±

    Jonathan leaned against the wall, tapping his head lightly against it.

    ¡°But¡­ I have a contact if you¡¯re interested,¡± Angus stated flatly, breaking the all-too-brief silence. ¡°You might find her ¡®name¡¯ familiar. Baba Yaga.¡±

    ¡°The Baba Yaga?¡± Jonathan¡¯s eyebrows shot up in surprise. ¡°As in that infamous Slavic witch who eats children? How many creatures in folklore are actually real?¡±

    ¡°More than you¡¯d want to know. Anyway, Baba Yaga is the only one who survived an attack from the Ghost Of Glasgow.¡± Angus snapped his fingers, conjuring a business card. ¡°Here¡¯s her address. This card is charmed to reveal her location at all times. It was her way of showing her trust in me when she gave this to me, so I do hope you¡¯d take this as a sign of trust from me to you as well.¡±

    Jonathan received it hesitantly. ¡°Look Angus, about Cornelia¡­¡±

    ¡°Shit happens. Just make sure you wipe. I¡¯m not blaming you,¡± Angus said in an uncharacteristically brash tone. ¡°Baba Yaga has been locked up in a psychiatric ward ever since the attack, so do approach the subject carefully. It might be best to bring your partner with you.¡±

    ¡°Are you insinuating that I need help just to record a testimony?¡±

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    Angus smiled slightly and walked away without a further word.

    ~ ~ ~

    Anya typed away on her computer, the small window of light illuminating the look of concentration on her face as she squinted at the various symbols on her screen. She sighed, closing yet another open tab.

    Despite spending close to five hours on her research, all she had were archaeological findings of these historical artefacts. There were a few other hits, but they all turned out to be blatantly false conspiracy theories.

    Anya glanced at the cobalt blue orb on her table. It looked plain enough. Only a simple glyph was carved onto its surface, and its pulsating was so faint that only those who bothered to look could tell that it was magic.

    Her hand hovered over the device for a moment.

    ¡°This had better be worth it,¡± the woman muttered to herself, taking out a small knife from her drawer. She winced as the cold blade slit the tip of her index finger.

    Blood dripped onto the orb as the relic on her neck glowed fiercely. This ritual was troublesome, but it was the best the Scottish Witch Market could offer, along with the necklace that gave her access to basic magic.

    Anya muttered an incantation, magically sealing up the small cut on her finger with her thumb. She waited for a few more seconds.

    A tail sprouted from the orb and reshaped itself into something resembling a USB plug. Anya wasted no time, plugging the tail into her computer. Glowing symbols flashed around the orb as it attuned to the machine. Her computer shut down.

    And booted up again almost immediately.

    This time, it was filled with handwritten scrawls that floated around the screen like fish in an overcrowded pond. Magic symbols overlay the alphabet on her keyboard as well, pulsating slightly through the glare of Anya¡¯s third eye.

    She typed in a combination of keystrokes, and the scrawls rearranged themselves on command. A new web page popped up. Anya¡¯s lips curved into a wide smile; the magic deep web was certainly much more useful than the regular one.

    Images and videos popped up on the screen as she continued scrolling. Most of which are eyewitness memories of the gruesome murders, which only further affirmed that she was on the right track. There were other random gore videos as well, but those were clearly unrelated to the branding murders.

    ¡°The Ghost Of Glasgow,¡± Anya whispered to herself, noticing the pattern of tags. ¡°I wonder¡­¡±

    She typed in the phrase. A new set of links showed up this time. They looked strangely organised this time, as though someone had been investigating this same case as well. Anya clicked on the folder labelled ¡®Journal Entries¡¯ in Russian.

    More squiggles of Russian words greeted her, and Anya silently thanked her ancestors for being born Slavic as well.

    ¡°Bozhe moy¡­¡± She scrolled through the disturbingly vivid accounts of the murder. Whoever consolidated the cases certainly spared no effort recording the manner of death, as well as the intimate details of the victims.

    Anya¡¯s eyes narrowed as she flipped through the cases in rapid succession, until she reached the last entry dated about sixty years ago.

    ¡°Why¡­¡± She tilted her head. ¡°Why are all the victims¡­ female?¡±

    The keyboard clacked loudly as Anya typed in a rapid succession of keystrokes, downloading the files into the computer. She glanced at the screen, waiting impatiently for the files to convert to printable documents. With these documents, all she needed to do was trace the digital signature to find out who uploaded them-

    ¡°Hang on¡­¡± she breathed, squinting at the small Russian initial at the bottom of the page. ¡°Does¡­ does that say ¡®Natasha¡¯?¡±

    A cold breeze brushed behind her. The lights flickered slightly. Anya tensed up, feeling a strange presence in her house.

    Her computer shut itself down without warning.

    ¡°What-¡±

    The woman cringed in pain as her third eye opened forcefully in warning. Wind howled around her as though she was in the middle of a blizzard. Whatever entity was causing all this, it wasn¡¯t messing around.

    Cold metal met her fingertips and Anya pulled out her gun immediately, aiming it everywhere. Her third eye flashed furiously, trying its best to locate the spirit. Or poltergeist. Or whatever the hell this was. An anguished scream rang out from behind.

    Anya spun around just in time to gasp at a demonic-looking face swooping towards her.

    She fired the gun, but the glowing bullets simply went through the mutilated, ghostly figure. Pain shot through her back as air burst from her mouth. Anya stood up gingerly, leaning against the wall for support. She flinched as the spirit rushed towards her again, but it didn¡¯t attack this time.

    A searing glow repelled the entity. It took Anya a few frantic seconds to notice that it was coming from her necklace.

    ¡°Leave him alone!¡± the spirit finally screamed in her face, before vanishing into the air as abruptly as it arrived.

    Anya breathed heavily, massaging her temples as her vision slowly refocused itself. ¡°Ngh¡­ what the hell was that- Oh no!¡±

    She rushed to the orb beside the computer. Its tail was severed, leaving behind a pitiful-looking stump. The orb was also damaged beyond repair and was no longer glowing. To make matters worse, her computer screen was dark as well. Anya held her breath as she pressed the power button, praying that it would come back on.

    The screen lit back up soon enough. Frantic clicks permeated the silent room as she accessed her saved files desperately, searching for the downloaded files.

    But they were no longer there.

 Chapter 6: Ghosts Of Our Past

    Fists pounded hopelessly against the charred wood as fire raged all around. The man screamed in desperation, throwing his body against the door over and over again. It was no use. The doors were chained shut.

    ¡°Nicholaum, look out!¡±

    Burning wood crashed before his feet as a pair of hands yanked him away from the collapsing ceiling beams. The man staggered backwards, pulling his wife into a tight embrace. Faint sounds of people chanting drifted over the crackling embers.

    ¡°We are doomed, my love.¡± Nicholaum put his head against his wife in defeat. ¡°But I regret nothing. There can be no greater joy for me than to die in the arms of the woman I love.¡±

    ¡°Oh my beloved¡­¡± the woman sobbed. ¡°This is all my fault. If only I wasn¡¯t a witch¡­ If only I was careful enough not to slip up-¡±

    ¡°Do not despair, my dearest.¡± The man cracked a pained smile despite choking on the fumes. ¡°If it is God¡¯s will for us to be part in this life, then I shall pray we meet in the next.¡±

    Nicholaum collapsed to the ground, wheezing hard.

    ¡°N-no¡­ please. Please don¡¯t go¡­¡± The woman fell to her knees, helping him up. ¡°I¡¯ll get us out of here¡­ I¡¯ll get us out of here¡­¡±

    Her lover held her hand tightly. ¡°Do no such thing, my love. The villagers think you were alone in our house when they set their fire. They will cease their hunt for you once they find my corpse. Go on¡­ without me.¡±

    ¡°Life¡­ isn¡¯t worth living¡­ without you¡­¡±

    ¡°For better and for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish always¡­¡± Nicholaum¡¯s voice had already reduced to a whisper in his strain.

    ¡°As a sanctuary of warmth and peace,¡± the woman joined in. ¡°I pledge my love, devotion, faith and honour as I join my life to yours¡­¡±

    Her voice trailed away into choked sobs as the man¡¯s body went limp in her hands. She remained motionless for a moment, before laying her husband gently on the ground.

    ¡°I love you¡­ I will always love you,¡± she whispered. ¡°No matter where you go, I will find you. This I promise to you, my love.¡±

    And her body faded into smoke, leaving the house along with the escaping ash.

    ~ ~ ~

    Jonathan woke to the sound of a ringing phone. He got up immediately like a startled cat, before rubbing his head tenderly. His eyes glazed over, trying to make sense of that impossibly vivid dream. Ever since he became an immortal, sleep became more of a pastime to him. And yet, it had been a while since he dreamt like that. It felt almost as if that dream was some sort of memory.

    It took a few more seconds before he realised that his phone was still ringing, so he promptly picked it up.

    ¡°Jonathan, I have¡­ news for you.¡± Angus was on the other line. ¡°Lucy has awakened from her coma, but she¡¯s¡­ I think you should come see for yourself.¡±

    He cut the call and sped out of the house.

    A few seconds later, Jonathan arrived at the Immortal Association¡¯s medical bay. The witch doctors had already stopped giving him odd looks by now. After all, practically the entire ward was now aware of the only patient they had in years.

    ¡°Angus, where¡¯s Lucy?¡± He walked urgently to the fae, who was standing outside the empty hospital room.

    ¡°Not to worry, Warner.¡± Angus held him back for some reason. ¡°Carpenter is physically alright, but I¡¯m afraid there have been some complications.¡±

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    Two Minotaurs walked into view, escorting a ragged-looking woman between them.

    ¡°Jonathan, dearie. There you are!¡± Lucy shook them off and hobbled over to him. ¡°Don¡¯t leave me with these strange people again, alright? I¡¯ve been dreadfully lonely without you, boy.¡±

    Jonathan supported her as she waddled her body gingerly beside him. Her hair was a silvery white, and there was a constant slight tremble in her voice.

    ¡°The hell happened to her?¡± he asked.

    ¡°It seems that in her recovery process, her memories have been jumbled up. It¡¯s even influenced her shape-shifting,¡± Angus said, turning to Lucy. ¡°Carpenter, may I ask how old you are?¡±

    ¡°C-Carpenter?¡± Lucy¡¯s eyes widened in indignation. ¡°How dare you speak my family name in that tone, young man! Have some respect for your elders. I am ninety years old!¡±

    Angus shook his head. ¡°It seems she has forgotten who I am as well. You¡¯re the only one she knows deep enough for her to remember you. You have to take it from here. But do be gentle with her; her memories appear to be unstable. There¡¯s no telling how long she¡¯ll think herself an old woman.¡±

    ¡°Damn¡­¡± Jonathan muttered under his breath, before offering an arm to her. ¡°Come on, Gran. Let¡¯s get you back to your house.¡±

    ¡°Gran¡­ I like it. Why, aren¡¯t you a dear?¡± Lucy gave him a wide smile, before turning back at Angus. ¡°You should learn a thing or two from him, lad. Look at how polite he is!¡±

    Jonathan nudged her forward, and they left the building.

    ~ ~ ~

    Lucy made for the kitchen the moment they entered her house. Jonathan had no idea what for, but he was still grateful to have a moment to himself. This week¡ª No, just these two days¡ª had been more than crazy. The death of a friend, a murderer on the loose, Lucy¡¯s amnesia, his relationship with Anya¡­

    Jonathan rested his head on the couch.

    This sort of thing only happens over a few years with a generous portion of space between them, not within less than forty-eight hours. To make things worse, Lucy had stubbornly insisted that she return to her home despite the killer still being out there. There was no telling if he¡¯d come to finish the job either. Jonathan simply could not afford to be by her side all day to protect her. Then again, it was not like that even worked the first time too.

    A fragrant aroma wafted to Jonathan, offering a pleasant respite from his worries.

    ¡°I hope you¡¯re hungry, Jonathan.¡± Lucy sauntered out of the kitchen, gingerly carrying a gigantic pot that betrayed the prodigious strength all vampires possessed. ¡°It¡¯s all yours. Don¡¯t be shy to ask for more.¡±

    Jonathan scarcely had time to widen his eyes when the first spoonful of stew was thrust in his face. He chewed it hurriedly, eager to empty his mouth so that he could talk again, but yet another spoon was offered to him. The man swallowed quickly as warm ceramic met his teeth again. Lucy was practically feeding him like a baby.

    ¡°W-wait¡­ I¡¯m full¡­¡± he mumbled through the mush in his mouth, politeness be damned.

    ¡°Nonsense, you¡¯re a growing boy.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m thirty-five¡­¡±

    Lucy pouted slightly, before smiling warmly at him again. Any hint of her usual sultriness was long gone, and now replaced by the gentle affection of a grandmother.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m so sorry, dearie. Is it too bland?¡± The woman covered her mouth. ¡°I should¡¯ve added some garlic. I forgot you are not allergic to them.¡±

    ¡°Hold on, Lucy.¡± Jonathan shook his hands in front of him frantically before she could scoot off to the nearest market. ¡°What do you remember about me, may I ask?¡±

    Lucy held her head tightly for a brief moment.

    ¡°Does it matter? I do remember that I know you, and you¡¯ve been kind to me,¡± she said in a slightly strained voice. ¡°That¡¯s good enough for me.¡±

    Jonathan¡¯s face darkened with concern.

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t look at me like that,¡± Lucy said. ¡°I¡¯m not oblivious; I know something is wrong with my memories. Fate works in miraculous ways, lad. I have faith that they will recover ere¡¯ long. Until then, I¡¯m choosing to spend time with my little boy here.¡±

    The man gave her a wry smile, choosing to sit still while Lucy ruffled his hair affectionately again.

    ¡°Do you remember anything about the Ghost Of Glasgow?¡± Jonathan asked.

    ¡°Never heard of it before.¡±

    Jonathan slumped his shoulders. Yet another lead gone just like that. He clenched his jaw silently. The Ghost Of Glasgow was still one step ahead of him, almost as though she was somehow following his every move.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Lucy.¡± The statement came out more forceful than usual, obviously aimed more at himself than at his friend. ¡°Keep in touch, and let me know the second anything feels wrong.¡±

    Jonathan headed for the door.

 Chapter 7: Unwelcome Visitors

    London¡¯s biggest psychiatric ward was way up north of the city, beside a prison barely half its size. If there was something the government loved doing, it was segregating its citizens into conveniently localised spaces. And in this case, the city¡¯s most dangerous people.

    The light evening had just fallen when Jonathan rolled up to the institution in a borrowed car from the Paranormal Bureau. She had been silent throughout the whole journey, although it was obvious to Jonathan that something had spooked her in the past few days. He did not bother probing; he knew Anya long enough to understand how stubborn she could be.

    The duo walked through the looming gates and headed for the reception.

    ¡°Baba Yaga?¡± The chief warden raised an eyebrow at them. ¡°How did you know we have this patient here? I¡¯m going to need some identification.¡±

    ¡°Inspector Anya Sechina,¡± Anya said before Jonathan could open his mouth. ¡°Authority of the Metropolitan Police, Paranormal Division. This is my partner. Jonathan Warner.¡±

    The warden¡¯s gaze shifted to the silver-haired woman beside them. ¡°And you?¡±

    ¡°Her name¡¯s Lucy Carpenter. She¡¯s an important witness,¡± Jonathan spoke up hurriedly. ¡°Please, we need to speak with Baba Yaga for an investigation.¡±

    The truth, of course, was so that Jonathan could keep an eye on Lucy at all times. But obviously, he had to come up with a more solid excuse to let her in. Rapid clicks permeated Lucy¡¯s idle humming as they waited for the guards to finish verifying their identities.

    ¡°Everything seems in place,¡± the warden said. ¡°You should¡¯ve saved us all some trouble and told us that Angus sent you. He¡¯s a whitelisted individual in this place.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Jonathan grinned in relief as the gates opened for them.

    ¡°Word of advice though, I wouldn¡¯t place my hopes on getting anything out of Baba Yaga,¡± the warden called out to them. ¡°She¡¯s been catatonic for even longer than I¡¯ve been here, and I¡¯ve worked here for more than thirty years. That woman acted out a few days prior for no damn reason too. There¡¯s an emergency button in every room. It looks like this.¡±

    He pointed at a simple red button. ¡°Don¡¯t hesitate to press it if you get in trouble.¡±

    ¡°How about cameras?¡± Anya asked.

    ¡°We have them everywhere as well, but we can¡¯t avoid blind spots,¡± he replied. ¡°There¡¯s one in Baba¡¯s room too, but¡­ Well, she messes it up from time to time. We can¡¯t get a steady feed from her; it keeps cutting off during her dinner time. It¡¯s definitely because she¡¯s a wi- Well, I¡¯m assuming you know what I mean, since you¡¯re acquainted with Angus.¡±

    Jonathan nodded. ¡°Thanks, mate. We¡¯ll be careful.¡±

    ~ ~ ~

    If the point of an asylum was to rehabilitate the mentally ill, this room was certainly doing a dismal job. It was more of a prison, or some kind of metaphor for the emotional indifference to the mentally broken. White upon white splashed over the bare walls wrapping the room, interrupted only by patches of mould and the occasional fingernail scratch.

    The concrete cage was windowless, of course, to prevent its nutjob of a prisoner from offing herself. Fluorescent light replaced the glory of the sun without all its warmth, and a big red button sat conspicuously beside the sole patient chained to her bed.

    ¡°Well met, Baba Yaga. I am Paranormal Investigator Jonathan Warner,¡± Jonathan said as the handle-less door closed behind him. ¡°I have come on the behest of Changeling Angus, and I have some questions for you.¡±

    The old witch did not even bother to look at him. Well, either that or she simply couldn¡¯t. The warden sure wasn¡¯t lying when he said that Baba Yaga was in a catatonic state.

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    ¡°Do you find this symbol familiar?¡± Jonathan shoved his phone in her face. No time to be courteous now. Every minute of leaving this case unsolved only increased the risk of finding another murder victim.

    Baba Yaga groaned in response. Jonathan took it as a yes.

    ¡°Of course you do. You survived an attack from the Ghost Of Glasgow, didn¡¯t you?¡± he continued. ¡°How did you do that? Is there anything you can tell me about her?¡±

    She groaned louder, her eyes shivering slightly as they shifted to him.

    ¡°Just tell me something, anything!¡± The man¡¯s voice was getting louder. ¡°Why did she target you? Did you know her beforehand-¡±

    He felt a hand pull his shoulder roughly.

    ¡°What, Anya?¡± Jonathan said in an annoyed tone.

    She shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s too much, Jon. Can¡¯t you see she¡¯s in distress? Pressing her further won¡¯t get us any answers.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care. She¡¯s the only lead we have. I need to get some answers today!¡± Jonathan turned back to the old woman, who was now staring at Anya¡¯s necklace for some reason.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so hasty, Jon.¡± Anya pulled him back. ¡°Let me try.¡±

    Jonathan stepped away reluctantly.

    ¡°Baba Jadwiga,¡± she began in a thick Slavic accent, before launching into full Russian. It might have just been Jonathan¡¯s imagination, but life seemed to flow back into the old woman¡¯s face the longer Anya spoke.

    Baba Yaga finally broke her silence with a raspy Russian word. Anya shut her mouth immediately, wordlessly nudging her to continue. The word slowly grew into a phrase, and the phrase quickly bloomed into a sentence.

    It wasn¡¯t long until the old witch was practically monologuing in her native tongue. Jonathan caught bits and pieces of familiar words such as ¡®Natasha¡¯ and ¡®infarma?tsiya¡¯, which clearly meant ¡®information¡¯, but they occurred too rarely for him to make out their meaning.

    ¡°So, what¡¯d she say?¡± Jonathan asked Anya, who was looking deeply concerned now.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± Anya mumbled. ¡°She told me her name is Natasha, but she refuses to give out any information unless¡­¡±

    ¡°Unless what?¡±

    ¡°Unless I give her my necklace in exchange for information.¡±

    Jonathan¡¯s eyes narrowed. This old witch wasn¡¯t as senile and helpless as she looked. But why did she set her eyes on Anya¡¯s necklace? That relic only served as a conduit for a human to tap into the latent magic in the air. What use would a powerful witch like Baba Yaga have for it?

    ¡°Now that¡¯s just terrible of her!¡± Lucy commented out of the blue, stomping up to the old woman. ¡°I¡¯m going to give her a piece of my mind.¡±

    She was all up in Baba Yaga¡¯s face before anyone could stop her.

    ¡°Hey, that isn¡¯t very nice of you,¡± Lucy pointed an accusatory finger. ¡°We¡¯re trying to stop a murderer here, for goodness sake. This is no time to be greedy.¡±

    Baba Yaga was trembling violently now, as though Lucy¡¯s motherly chiding genuinely frightened her. Jonathan stared at her, watching her carefully. What was she playing at-

    ¡°Vampir! Baba Yaga, pomogi mne!¡± She broke into a fit of hysterical screams. Chains rattled as the witch struggled desperately against them.

    ¡°Christ, what the hell?¡± Jonathan covered his ears, barely blotting out the grating noise of the woman wailing her lungs out. Anya reached for the red button.

    Baba Yaga lunged towards her and yanked her necklace.

    ¡°Shit!¡± Jonathan struggled with the crazy old hag, but her grip was abnormally strong. Anya choked as the relic dug into her neck-

    The necklace chain split without warning and Jonathan tumbled onto the floor along with his partner. Lucy quickly helped them up, but their ordeal was not yet over. With an anguished yell, Baba Yaga ripped the bed handles off and flung her body towards the fallen relic. Her fingernails caught Anya¡¯s face as they dug in deep, leaving behind a long scratch dangerously close to her eye.

    ¡°Leave the necklace, Anya! Get out of here!¡± Jonathan yelled, pointing at the now-open door. He stepped in front of his partner as Baba Yaga broke off what remained of her teeth on his impenetrable wrist. Jonathan kicked her hard in the torso, sending the witch crashing into a wall.

    He made for the exit, pushing Anya out of the room just in time for the door to close behind them.

 Chapter 8: Torn Asunder

    ¡°Shit, Anya. We¡¯re never doing that again.¡± Jonathan raised his finger to Anya¡¯s wound, who flinched a little too violently away from him.

    ¡°My necklace is still inside.¡± Anya slapped his hand away. ¡°Why¡¯d you push me out? How am I going to use magic now?¡±

    ¡°What, so it¡¯s my fault now?¡± It was Jonathan¡¯s turn to get mad. ¡°Hey, I saved you. Shouldn¡¯t I at least get a thanks for that?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, thanks for nothing. I should¡¯ve just continued the investigation on my own. Why do I keep letting you rope me into your business?¡±

    Jonathan growled in annoyance, chasing after the woman stomping towards the lift.

    ¡°Hey-¡± He pulled her arm roughly but only received a slap in return. Jonathan gave her a few moments to massage the pain away from her palm.

    ¡°What¡¯s with that attitude?¡± Jonathan snarled. ¡°At least I¡¯ve been busy. What have you been doing all this while?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s none of your business-¡±

    ¡°Like hell, it isn¡¯t!¡± Jonathan¡¯s voice echoed down the empty hallway. ¡°We¡¯re partners. Stop keeping things from me. Why are you always like this-¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯re a terrible partner!¡± the woman yelled back at him.

    Jonathan¡¯s mouth hung open.

    ¡°Keeping things? Who was the one who refused to tell me about his immortality until I had to find out the hard way? How about the time you hid the fact that you were involved with murderous vampires?¡±

    ¡°Hey, I did all that to protect you-¡± the man protested, but Anya wasn¡¯t finished.

    ¡°You want the truth? Fine. You¡¯re not good at investigation; you never were. Did you really think being an informant meant that you¡¯d be the next Sherlock Holmes?¡± she snarled. ¡°The only reason you¡¯re my partner is because I loved you. I wanted nothing more than to be by your side.¡±

    Jonathan clenched his jaw, enduring Anya¡¯s painful glare.

    ¡°But that was clearly a mistake, and you clearly don¡¯t appreciate what I have done for you. Even if I did tell you what I was doing, you¡¯d find a way to mess it up somehow,¡± Anya continued without hesitation. ¡°Everything you have was given to you. You couldn¡¯t even hold down a decent job on your own. You know why? It¡¯s because you can¡¯t commit to anything! You¡¯re a damn coward who keeps running away from everything.¡±

    Jonathan¡¯s chest hurt. Somehow, he didn¡¯t think it was so impossible for him to feel pain now.

    ¡°Is¡­ Is that really how you see me?¡± he asked quietly.

    ¡°I-¡± Anya raised her voice again, but chose to look away for a brief moment. ¡°I can¡¯t do this anymore. I need a break.¡±

    ¡°A break?¡± Jonathan¡¯s eyes widened just as the lift opened its doors. He scurried in after Anya before she could leave him outside. ¡°You¡¯re dropping the case? How about the murderer?¡±

    ¡°No, a break from you,¡± Anya said. ¡°When the doors open again, I¡¯m no longer your partner. We¡¯re breaking up.¡±

    The man took a step back, knocking into Lucy in the process. The dull shock barely registered in the swarm of emotions swirling within him. Anya had to be joking, right? There¡¯s no way she meant that. No way she was throwing away almost twenty years of their relationship just like that, right?

    ¡°Anya¡­¡± Jonathan looked up, his hands trembling by his side. ¡°We- We can¡¯t just¡­¡±

    His voice trailed away as he stared at the black ink tracing itself on her neck. He looked at her in shock and rapidly growing terror. Anya had not noticed it yet, and was still facing away from him.

    ¡°Anya-¡±

    ¡°Save it, Jonathan. Don¡¯t bother worming your way out of this one.¡±

    ¡°No, wait. Anya, listen to me. Your-¡±

    ¡°Leave me be, Warner. You¡¯re disturbing my train of thought.¡±

    ¡°Anya, you¡¯ve been marked!¡± Jonathan blurted out, pointing at the now fully formed symbol on her neck.

    ¡°What?¡± the woman gasped, taking out her phone camera to look at the side of her neck. ¡°When did this happen?¡±

    ¡°Just then! I saw it forming by itself on your skin!¡±

    ¡°I sense a presence¡­¡± Lucy cowered without warning, crouching and pressing herself up against the lift wall. Jonathan looked around frantically, only then realising that the lift had been descending for an unusually long time. He glanced at the floor display.

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    Basement 30.

    Or at least, that¡¯s what it showed right before the display glitched out. The lights flickered as well, and Jonathan charged his hands with electricity in response. He didn¡¯t know if his powers would be able to deal with whatever supernatural phenomenon was messing with them, but he was almost certain that something paranormal was attempting to pull them down to God knows where.

    Whatever the case was, he did not want to find out.

    The man blasted electricity at the floor display panel in an attempt to overload the lift¡¯s circuitry. It miraculously worked. The three of them panted heavily, looking at each other for answers. None of them had any.

    Jonathan mashed the lift buttons anyway. Unfortunately, they didn¡¯t deign to respond to that mindless gesture. The lights went out and came back on a full second later, almost as if it was just an afterthought.

    And then a metallic ring shook him back to his senses.

    ¡°Oh thank god,¡± Jonathan heaved a sigh of relief as the lift doors opened to the familiar sight of the ground floor again. ¡°Hey Anya, we¡¯ve reached-¡±

    He stifled a gasp and reached for Anya¡¯s motionless body. Her icy cold skin greeted her fingertips as he recoiled violently, falling over his feet. It couldn¡¯t be¡­

    ¡°She¡¯s gone¡­ she¡¯s gone¡­¡± Lucy whimpered in fear and evaporated into a cloud of black dust, leaving Jonathan alone to feel Anya¡¯s neck for a pulse.

    The man fell to his knees in despair, holding his dead partner in his arms.

    ~ ~ ~

    They say one never truly understands death until it takes away someone close to him. Even so, Jonathan didn¡¯t think he understood it now. It felt numb. Foreign, even. It did not belong to his immortal body, and it sure as hell should never belong in this mortal world.

    He continued staring at Anya¡¯s lifeless body from behind the glass barrier.

    It couldn¡¯t be. This couldn¡¯t be happening now. It was all just a sloppily constructed nightmare, and when he got out of it, she¡¯d be there again. When he opened his eyes, she¡¯d be right there at his bedside, gently chiding him for sleeping in. When he woke up, she¡¯d be right there by his bed.

    But he didn¡¯t. And neither did she.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t we going to cremate her?¡± Jonathan turned to the presence standing silently behind him.

    ¡°Do you want to?¡± Angus said, his face betraying not even a hint of emotion. Jonathan generally did not like emotional displays, but the neutrality of the fae¡¯s expression felt colder than ever now.

    ¡°Do I have a choice?¡±

    ¡°Yes, although I¡¯d advise you not to.¡±

    Jonathan tilted his head slightly. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Lady Sechina is dead in almost every sense of the word, yes.¡± Angus nodded. ¡°But that¡¯s only because her soul is missing. It¡¯s obvious that someone, or something, has ripped it out of her body.¡±

    ¡°I have two souls, right?¡± Jonathan¡¯s heart leapt with joy. ¡°Help me extract one so I can give it to her!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so hasty, boy. Firstly, doing that would render you mortal again-¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care. I just want to see her alive again-¡±

    Angus cut him off with a raised hand. ¡°-And secondly, giving your soul would only bring her body back to life. She¡¯d be like a newborn, with no memory of anything else. It¡¯s a better option to simply return her soul to her body.¡±

    ¡°We can do that?¡± Jonathan blinked a few times, taking the time to process what he had just said.

    ¡°As long as she didn¡¯t die of natural causes, yes. But more importantly, we need to locate her soul first. It has not left for the afterworld yet, this much I am certain. And you can trust a Changeling on this. The question is, who took it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s gotta be with that Ghost Of Glasgow,¡± Jonathan muttered, slamming a fist into the wall. ¡°I don¡¯t know how, but she keeps getting ahead of us.¡±

    ¡°You keep saying that. What makes you so sure that this ¡®Ghost¡¯ is behind everything?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± the inspector sputtered. ¡°The brandings, of course!¡±

    Angus furrowed his eyebrows. ¡°That¡¯s precisely the part that doesn¡¯t make sense. I don¡¯t recall Lucy being branded.¡±

    That was enough to make Jonathan falter. His eyes glazed over as he sank into his thoughts again. Angus had a point. If the common thread between the murders was the brandings, why were both Lucy and Baba Yaga not branded?

    His mind swirled, throwing out line after line to reel in a conclusion of sorts, but nothing connected. Could it be that only supernatural creatures were exempt from the branding for some reason?

    No, it didn¡¯t make sense. Cornelia was branded right before she was killed as well. Could Lucy¡¯s branding have been on a different part of her body?

    No, it didn¡¯t add up either. Firstly, the doctors would have noticed if she had been branded. And secondly, the victims were usually marked at an obvious part of their body, as if the murderer wanted them to be aware of their impending demise. It simply didn¡¯t make sense that the killer would suddenly choose to hide it.

    ¡°This is the second time someone has died around you,¡± Angus warned. ¡°It¡¯s a good thing I trust you, or we¡¯d be having this conversation on the opposite ends of a detention cell.¡±

    ¡°How much do you know about this Baba Yaga?¡± Jonathan changed the topic. ¡°She got rather violent, by the way.¡±

    ¡°You mentioned that her location was in the asylum? And she had been locked up there for more than thirty years?¡±

    He nodded.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ impossible.¡± Angus mused. ¡°I only saw her five years ago. And in her house, too. Baba Yaga rarely leaves her house. Are you sure you got the right person?¡±

    ¡°Beats me. I just went to the location on your card.¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t used this card in a long time; I¡¯ve already memorised the spells to summon Baba Yaga anyway.¡± The fae stared at the card intently. ¡°But this¡­ this doesn¡¯t look right.¡±

    Angus snapped his fingers, conjuring a spellbook out of the air.

    ¡°This is as much as I can help you, Jonathan. Carry out the ritual in this book, and you will summon Baba Yaga.¡± He passed the book to the confused man. ¡°Whether or not you will see the same woman in the asylum, I do not know. But not to worry, a charm can be altered, but a proper ritual like this cannot be tampered with. Tread carefully, I have a suspicion that something very sinister is at play here.¡±

    Jonathan nodded grimly.

 Chapter 9: Youéˆ¥æª™e Not Alone

    The Paranormal Bureau was desolate despite the blistering sunlight streaming in, and it made Jonathan wonder if anyone in that department actually did their job. Of course, most of the agents were just normal cops who juggled multiple positions at the same time, but it was times like these that he would be grateful to at least have a little help.

    So as it was, he had to settle for scrolling through internal archives and rummaging through dusty old case files by himself.

    Jonathan¡¯s expression hardened, silently shaking out Anya¡¯s last words to him while he scrutinised the details in those files. Harsh as her words may have been, she wasn¡¯t wrong. Thirty-five years on this Earth, and all he ever did was live day to day while winging everything else. No wonder Anya lost faith in him.

    He blinked the blurriness in his eyes away, before focusing on the words again. This was no time to mope. Anya can hear his apology after he saved her soul.

    Unlike most case files, these old cases read more like urban legends than actual incident reports. There was simply too little information to go on with, and too much speculation which only further blurred the truth within. Such was almost always the problem with cold cases like this, which was also why they remained as such.

    Still, he was an ex-informant. And a damn good one, if he didn¡¯t hesitate to boast. If there was something he was good at, it was extracting information from even the most obscure of sources.

    Electricity fed into his brain, energising him further as he opened the first file of several hundred. ¡®Marion Caimbeul¡¯ was the first name that greeted him, followed by her date of death. Jonathan took a deep breath and read on.

    And on, and on, and on.

    It felt like only a minute had passed when the pale moonlight found its way onto his desk. The chair creaked as Jonathan got up to turn the lights on, his head buzzing with new information. He pulled out a blank notebook and began noting down everything he had deduced so far.

    Most of the information he had gleaned already matched with what he knew. But according to the archives, the victims went from being killed to simply dying in their sleep about sixty years ago. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was related, but this seemed to have coincided with Mylis Wright¡¯s estimated date of death as well.

    To make things more suspicious, the circumstances in which the victims died in their sleep were remarkably similar to how Anya ¡®died¡¯ too.

    Jonathan finished up the last of his scrawlings before resting his head on his palm. If he had deduced correctly, Anya must have also fallen victim to some sort of soul-extraction magic. Lucy and Cornelia, on the other hand, could only be killed by another method since they do not possess a conventional soul.

    The last question left in his mind, and undoubtedly the biggest one, was why. Why kill all those people? Why hunt down all these victims over several hundred years?

    Why hurt those he cared about?

    Jonathan tossed a glance at Angus¡¯ spellbook once again. Part of him wanted to simply begin the ritual and continue his investigation. But an even bigger part of him was afraid of whatever lay at the other end of the summoning portal. He couldn¡¯t fathom seeing that old hag again without trying to beat her up for hurting Anya. And so he did what anyone would have done to cool himself off.

    He laid his head on the table and took a nap.

    ~ ~ ~

    ¡°I do.¡±

    Applause erupted as the unfamiliar face leaned closer to him and planted a deep kiss on his lips. Jonathan tried to jerk his head back to no avail as darkness enveloped his eyes, leaving behind nothing but the blissful feeling of the woman¡¯s tight embrace.

    ¡°I love you, Duncan,¡± the woman whispered, her voice soaked with joy.

    ¡°And I you, Marion.¡± A feathery voice emanated from Jonathan in return.

    Like the dreams he had been having for the past few days, Jonathan was unable to move his body from his point of view, and could only watch from behind the eyes of an unfamiliar person. In this case, this man was apparently named Duncan.

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    Soft skin wrapped around his forearm, and Jonathan found himself being led through a crowd. People congratulated him from every corner, some even with tears in their eyes. His head tilted to his bride again, and she gazed back at him with a bright smile.

    Recognition rang in his mind as the woman¡¯s forehead met his lips. Jonathan gasped silently in realisation. He had seen her before in a reconstructed sketch.

    This ¡®Marion¡¯ woman was one of the victims.

    Jonathan struggled even harder against Duncan¡¯s body, but he remained a slave to it. It was obvious now that this was some sort of memory and not any ordinary dream. The Ghost Of Glasgow could be in the crowd right now, if only he could just walk around and inspect the environment.

    An idea popped into his head. He didn¡¯t know if he remembered the proper process well enough, considering his lack of aptitude for studying, but it was worth a shot.

    His mind twitched, grasping onto the faint traces of a rope mentally constructed just above him. It was neither solid nor liquid and felt more like a very soft piece of fabric instead of a typical rope. But it was not the rope that mattered. Rather, it was what was attached to it that he focused more on.

    And he pulled down on it, gently but surely. Light-headedness hit him almost immediately, but it only affirmed how solid the anchor on the other end was. Jonathan squinted his eyes against the glaring light; he was almost there. And he tugged hard.

    Solid ground greeted his back as he fell over his feet. Jonathan stood up and looked around him. Duncan was still locked in a lively chat with his family. Jonathan grinned in satisfaction.

    He had successfully astral-projected his lucid form out of that man¡¯s body.

    Jonathan wasted no time, taking a stroll around the mediaeval wedding. As expected, none of the occupants could see him, which only further affirmed that this was no mere dream. Someone was definitely trying to show him something.

    The first thing he took note of was the year. Or rather, a rough approximation of it, since it was written in the old style. He found it to be somewhere in the fifteenth century, which coincided with the victim¡¯s death date. If he wasn¡¯t wrong, Marion Caimbeul was due to be murdered just a few months later.

    ¡°Why are you showing me a wedding?¡± Jonathan muttered to the oblivious bride. ¡°What are you trying to tell me?¡±

    The hairs on the back of his neck stood on their end without warning. He turned around, noticing a female figure staring in his direction. Her glare was getting painful, so he quickly moved out of the way.

    Only to see her head turning in his direction.

    A chill went down his spine as he walked closer to identify her, but her face only became more blurry the closer he got to her. It felt like he was zooming in on a video. Jonathan squinted at the strange black marking on the side of her face. Is¡­ is that-

    ¡°You should not be here.¡±

    He swung around in shock. Marion was standing unnaturally close to him with a deadened expression in her eyes.

    ¡°W-what¡­¡± Jonathan sputtered, but she took another step towards him. Heads turned towards him one by one like mechanical dolls as the guests started closing in on him as well. He tried to back away, but the people were forming a wall around him, as if blocking him from something else.

    ¡°Go away¡­ Go away¡­¡± they chanted almost in unison while Jonathan looked around frantically, only then realising that both Duncan and the mysterious woman were missing.

    ¡°Run, my love!¡± Marion seized him roughly, screaming in his face. ¡°She is after you! RUN! RUN! RUN! RUN! RUN! RUN-¡±

    ~ ~ ~

    ¡°Gah!¡±

    Jonathan woke up with a jolt, sweeping the documents off his desk in a frenzy. He panted, his face flushed with sweat as he picked the scattered papers off the ground. He took his time to tidy them while organising the thoughts in his mind.

    The things that have been happening to him were strange, even for someone so deeply involved with the paranormal world. Ghosts of the deceased that remained in this world after so many years were rare, even more so for them to contact a mortal via dreams.

    Besides, if Marion Caimbeul had intended to show him her memory, why was she so hostile to him in the dream? And if that memory indeed belonged to her, why was he viewing it from her husband¡¯s perspective?

    Unless¡­ that memory really belonged to Duncan Caimbeul instead.

    The memories of past lives are also stored in souls, as he had read in the archives a while back. Could the reason behind his hallucinations and those strange dreams be related to the memories in his soul?

    Jonathan shook his head; this was no time to speculate about the supernatural. Clear and present was getting Anya¡¯s soul back into her body. He reached for the ritual spellbook and flipped it open casually.

    Complicated diagrams and scrawlings stared him back in the face. He was no magic academic, but the symbols in the ritual clearly hinted at the use of dark magic, this much he was certain. He needed help, and he knew just who to get it from. He could only hope that she had not forgotten how to use dark magic as well.

    The man pulled out his phone, only to be greeted by seventeen missed calls from Lucy as well as a single text message which read ¡®Help¡¯.

    His heart dropped.

 Chapter 10: Women Problems

    Anya opened her eyes. Or at least, it felt like she did. Not like she had them at the moment, anyway. She was standing¡ª No, floating¡ª in some sort of container. She screamed silently, throwing herself at the cylindrical glass walls, but nothing budged.

    ¡°Your soul is like a storm, young one. Try to keep it calm before you tear yourself asunder.¡± A croaky voice caught her attention. Anya swivelled around, coming face to face with an old woman.

    If she had nerves, she would¡¯ve flinched out of her skin right there and then. ¡®Grotesque¡¯ was a compliment to the person before her. Hell, it was probably even a stretch to call this thing a ¡®person¡¯.

    For one, the woman¡¯s face was missing an eyeball while the skin around her eye socket sagged so low, it could have been mistaken for a tumour. And for another, the other half of her face was missing its skin, leaving raw, yellowish flesh exposed to the light in all its full glory.

    All in all, she was one ugly old hag.

    ¡°Calm?¡± Anya yelled back to steel herself. ¡°How can you expect me to be calm when I¡¯m missing my whole body? Who are you? What is happening?¡±

    The old woman lifted a finger and shook her head slowly.

    ¡°Confusion¡­ Hmm, yes. There is plenty of that. But that is not what plagues your soul,¡± she said cryptically. ¡°You seethe with guilt, regret, and¡­ love. Yes, so much love and¡­ pain. Be careful, girl. You might just become a ghost if you keep carrying this burden.¡±

    Anya swirled around restlessly again. She was in no mood to listen to some disfigured woman play therapist. She needed answers, and she needed them now.

    ¡°Baba Jadwiga, right? You¡¯re the true Baba Yaga.¡± Anya decided to reveal her hand early, hoping to draw out a response from the old witch. ¡°Does it bother you that your disciple is rotting in an asylum in your place?¡±

    The old lady shifted her body. It wasn¡¯t as obvious without a proper facial expression to read from, but Anya could tell that she was surprised.

    ¡°Hmm, you wish to gain my secrets by losing your secrecy. Clever girl,¡± she said. ¡°Not many people are as bold as you are. Very well, your wish shall be granted.¡±

    Anya stopped swirling.

    ¡°You are right, dear child. I am indeed, as what many people have learnt to call me, Baba Yaga. It is I who have been tracking your husband¡¯s movements, and it is I who have sundered your soul from your body. That is all you need to know.¡±

    ¡°H-husband?¡± Anya sputtered. ¡°He¡¯s not-¡±

    ¡°Patience is a virtue you have yet to possess, Daughter of Mikhail.¡± Baba Yaga raised a wrinkled hand. ¡°I read only what is imprinted on your soul. You may not have considered the Stonekeeper your partner, but your soul has already accepted him as its mate. Unveil the illusion of his imperfections in your mortal eyes, and see him for who he really is.¡±

    Anya would have rolled her eyes, if she had any. For a seven thousand-year-old witch, this lady was certainly a huge busybody.

    ¡°What are you after?¡± She quickly regained her composure. ¡°Are you the Ghost Of Glasgow?¡±

    ¡°There is no need to be hostile; I mean you no harm. I am not who you seek.¡± Baba Yaga turned around to show her a container with a pulsating green brain in it. ¡°I am on your side, and all I have done is keep all of you safe.¡±

    ¡°You were that dark figure¡­¡± Anya whispered in realisation. ¡°It was you who plucked out that Dryad¡¯s bud. It was you who ripped my soul from my body.¡±

    Her attention shifted to the glowing rifle mounted on a nearby shelf as well as some dark mass swirling in a container beside it. ¡°You were also the one who shot Lucy Carpenter and took her memories. Why?¡±

    ¡°You have always sought to see what you have not seen, know what you should not know.¡± The witch walked wearily back to her circular table. ¡°It has served you well thus far, but knowledge chooses when to extract its toll.¡±

    ¡°I asked a simple question.¡± Anya was growing tired of her crypticness.

    Baba Yaga¡¯s eye flitted around for a moment. ¡°I have sheltered all of you before she could claim your lives. That is all you need to know.¡±

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    ¡°You know the Ghost Of Glasgow¡¯s intentions? How are you related to her?¡±

    ¡°Ask no more, girl. You cannot bear the weight of such knowledge. This is for your own good.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the problem with you self-assuming immortals! You always assume you know what¡¯s best for everyone else. You never ask us what we want!¡± Anya yelled. ¡°You said you did this to keep me safe, but for how long? How much longer must I remain a disembodied spirit? Return me to my body!¡±

    Baba Yaga remained silent for a moment, musing at the crystal ball on her table.

    ¡°You understand not how it feels to watch those closest to you suffer. I cannot bring another innocent soul into this mess again,¡± she muttered. ¡°I must atone for my mistakes alone. This eternal war of attrition is the only way I can stop her.¡±

    ¡°Natasha The Dark. That is your disciple, am I right? You can act all mysterious if you want, but I know the truth,¡± Anya argued defiantly. ¡°Baba Yaga, pomogi mne. Natasha cried out to you for help in the asylum. The fables say that she fled your house. But she really didn¡¯t, did she? You took her in and taught her magic. Is that why you chose a life of self-imposed exile? The reason she¡¯s in the asylum is because of you?¡±

    The witch trembled slightly. ¡°I only exchanged our identities to keep her safe. Better to live forever in a prison than die facing the dangers outside. The Ghost Of Glasgow only existed because of my actions, and I have chosen penance forever.¡±

    ¡°Again with pushing others away. You¡¯re just like Jonathan. Are we mortals so beneath you that we can do nothing to help? As much as you think this is your fault for whatever reason, this concerns me too.¡±

    ¡°Wrong, girl!¡± Baba Yaga raised her voice without warning. ¡°It is not you whom she is after. It is your husband! It was he who reignited her blackened heart!¡±

    Anya fell silent. The witch faltered, stumbling back as though she could take back the words that just escaped her mouth.

    ¡°So Jonathan really is the key,¡± Anya said slowly, her brain working to piece all the information together. ¡°And you must have done something to the Ghost Of Glasgow which set her on this bloodied path, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    Baba Yaga kept her silence. Anya took it as a yes.

    ¡°Natasha was deathly afraid of Lucy at the asylum. Is that why you shot her with a memory-erasing bullet?¡± Anya continued to muse. ¡°Lucy knows something too, doesn¡¯t she? You knew somehow that Jonathan¡¯s investigations would lead Lucy to your disciple.¡±

    Her gaze fell to the crystal ball. ¡°You divined it?¡±

    The world spun around Anya as Baba Yaga seized the jar, staring at her soul intently. Panic gripped Anya. If that witch so much as dropped the jar, her soul would dissipate and she would cease to be. Anya trembled slightly; she had never felt so vulnerable before.

    There was a soft clink of glass on wood as the witch placed the jar gently on her table. White light danced around her fingertips, flowing onto the wood. With a swish of her wrist, another crystal ball materialised in place of the previous one.

    ¡°Well played, Anya Sechina.¡± She gazed intently into the crystal ball. ¡°I have gazed countless times into this sphere, and not once has my fate wavered. I wonder¡­ are you the one to break my vow of solitude as it has foretold?¡±

    ~ ~ ~

    The door flew open, and Jonathan practically flew into the house. It wasn¡¯t turned upside down, which at least meant that no one had broken into the house. Although Lucy was a powerful vampire, there was no guarantee she could protect herself, what with her amnesia and all.

    Sparks fizzled in his eyes as he focused his magical lightning, opening up his third eye and attuning it to Lucy¡¯s vampiric essence. Sure enough, a visible dark path trailed out of the open window¡ª which Jonathan had only just noticed¡ª and onto the streets below. He dashed out of the door.

    Jonathan slowed down the moment he reached the ground floor and forced himself to walk briskly along the pavement. He kept his third eye open, conspicuously squeezing along with half of London. The peak hour crowd pouring from the very nearby subway was merciless, among other things.

    Fortunately, the trail ended quickly as Jonathan turned into yet another dodgy alleyway. It was significantly darker here, especially with the tall concrete buildings obscuring most of the light from the setting sun. But there was no doubt where he was.

    Jonathan pushed the doors open and flinched as a wall of sound slammed into him, flanked by a freezing blast of air-conditioning. Unlike the quiet alleyway, the club was alive with music and ladies in heels sharp enough to use as weapons. To make things worse, it was very conveniently situated right under a love hotel.

    The man kept to himself, following the flow of the crowd so that he wouldn¡¯t get picked off by some random drunk lady.

    ¡°Oi, look at that chick over there; she¡¯s so fit! Let¡¯s go dance with her.¡± A slurred voice drifted to his ears. Jonathan¡¯s gaze shot to the group of ogling boys immediately.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be daft, mate. I¡¯m bloody trolleyed now.¡± One of the boys stumbled, holding a table to support himself. ¡°I¡¯m not embarrassing myself in front of her.¡±

    ¡°Bloody hell, look at her moves.¡± Another boy stared lustfully. ¡°Hey¡­ she looks kinda mature. Bet she can teach me a thing or two in bed, eh?¡±

    ¡°Ah sod off, mommy issues.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re gawking too, ain¡¯t ya? Wanker.¡±

    Jonathan looked around. Those boys weren¡¯t the only ones staring at the dance floor. People, mostly men, had their eyes glued onto the figure dancing sensually in the middle of the club. It wasn¡¯t hard to make out who she was, especially when even the DJ had decided to literally shine the spotlight on her.

    He pushed his way through the crowd to the middle of the dance floor, heading straight towards Lucy Carpenter.

 Chapter 11: Close Call

    Jonathan had barely stepped onto the flashing floor when a hand dragged him roughly forward. He faltered, feeling his face burn as her arm found the back of his neck. Bloody hell, did she doll herself up while he was gone? Or has she always looked this beautiful?

    Lucy¡¯s fingers ran down the small of his back, swaying her hips gently beside him. She flashed him a devilish grin and tugged the helm of his collar forward. Jonathan gulped, trying to keep his eyes off her generous cleavage thrusted mere millimetres away from his chest.

    ¡°L-Lucy¡­¡± His voice had somehow decided to come out as a whimper, and the woman put a slender finger on his lips.

    ¡°You know my name?¡± She leaned in close, blowing hot air in his ear. ¡°Have you been stalking me? Bad boy¡­¡±

    ¡°N-no, we¡¯re friends. You don¡¯t remember, but-¡±

    Lucy shoved him out of the spotlight, pushing him roughly up against a nearby wall. She tossed up her jet-black hair sensually and kept one hand beside his head. Jonathan pressed his back against the cold concrete as he watched the groups of men leave in disappointment.

    ¡°Just friends? With someone as handsome as you?¡± The woman bit the corner of her lips, smirking slightly at him. ¡°I don¡¯t think so, honey¡­¡±

    Her finger trailed down his chest idly.

    ¡°It¡¯s just not my style to give up someone who looks so¡­ delicious.¡± Her hand stopped right above his trousers. She tilted her head up towards him, keeping the seductive half-grin on her face.

    God, how is she so ridiculously attractive?

    ¡°Lucy, you¡¯re not yourself.¡± Jonathan tried to regain his composure, only then realising how hard he was breathing. ¡°You¡¯re not as young as you think you are.¡±

    ¡°Are you calling me, a twenty-year-old girl, old? Oh my, you have an interesting seduction technique. Fortunately for you¡­¡± The woman dragged him into the nearby lift and pushed a button hurriedly. ¡°That¡¯s so, so¡­ hot.¡±

    The lift doors opened in full view of a carpeted corridor. Jonathan¡¯s eyes darted to the hotel receptionist, pleading silently for help, but she simply motioned them to the closest room. His heart sank. That poor girl had probably seen enough of such passionate ¡®couples¡¯ in this place to not question anything she saw.

    Muffled groans greeted the empty darkness as Jonathan stumbled into the room, his mouth still firmly interlocked with Lucy¡¯s lips. The woman¡¯s hands ran all over his body while he groped in the dark for a light switch.

    There was a brief respite as soft fabric slammed into Jonathan¡¯s back. He scrambled to his feet, desperately fighting against the ridiculously marshy bed to stand back up. But the woman was on top of him before he knew it.

    Lucy¡¯s fingers found his belt buckle in no time, pulling down his trousers in a swift motion. Despite claiming to be only twenty years old this time, she was clearly very experienced. Jonathan¡¯s hands shot down to protect himself, but Lucy quickly grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head.

    Goosebumps went down his spine as Lucy pressed him down with her supernatural strength, gently planting kisses down his neck. Her fingers travelled down his chest, stopping momentarily on his abs, before sliding dangerously lower.

    ¡°You look so yummy¡­¡± she moaned in his ear.

    Sparks danced behind Jonathan¡¯s closed eyes. Lucy was the last person he wanted to use his powers on, but it looked like nothing short of a nasty shock would be enough to get her off him.

    Her hand snaked its way into his pants.

    ¡°And I¡¯m so hungry!¡±

    Fangs popped out of her gums, and she bit down hard on his neck. The scream that followed grated his ears.

    Jonathan quickly shoved the writhing vampire off him and picked up his trousers. He was fully dressed in less than a millisecond. The speedster didn¡¯t want to leave anything else to chance. He approached Lucy cautiously.

    ¡°What the hell?!¡± She sobbed loudly, touching her broken fangs tenderly. ¡°What are you made of? My teeth¡­¡±

    Jonathan picked up the open-bust top from the floor and passed it to the now whimpering vampire. She glared at him for a moment, before sliding the clothes over her body.

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    ¡°Do you remember me now?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Absolutely not. Are you some kind of gargoyle or something? Felt like I was biting into stone¡­¡± Lucy winced as Jonathan sat beside her. ¡°Am I supposed to know you? You¡¯re a little too old for my liking. Don¡¯t get me wrong. You¡¯re really good-looking, but just not my type. No offence.¡±

    That was a drastic change in attitude¡­

    ¡°That¡¯s what I get for getting my hopes up, I suppose.¡± He shrugged. ¡°What do you remember?¡±

    ¡°Something terrible¡­ Someone died¡­ I was so scared, and then¡­ And then¡­¡±

    ¡°And then what?¡±

    ¡°And then I remembered I was twenty,¡± she mumbled. ¡°And very hungry. I need blood¡­ Please, you have to let me back down there to find my next meal.¡±

    Jonathan handed a blood packet to her. ¡°Good thing I came prepared. This should sustain you for the next few months.¡±

    Lucy¡¯s eyes widened in joy as she immediately sank her teeth into it, sucking out the blood packet greedily. Jonathan¡¯s hand slid out of his coat pocket. He had planned to ask Lucy for help deciphering those dark magic symbols, but with her unstable mental condition, it was probably best that he let her recover in peace.

    The man wrapped himself with the blanket. Was the room this cold when he entered it? He reached for the air conditioning remote to adjust the temperature, but only stared at it in confusion. It was not turned on.

    ¡°Whore¡­ Whore¡­¡±

    Jonathan looked around in confusion. It might have just been the wind, but the whistling air in his ears sounded suspiciously like a woman¡¯s voice. He drew back the curtains to close the windows.

    Only to come face to face with a brick wall.

    ¡°What-¡±

    A gust of wind swept him off his feet. He crashed into the bed, startling the confused vampire who only stared at him as though he was crazy. Jonathan scrambled towards her in shock, finally noticing that same dreaded brand forming on her neck as well.

    ¡°Whore!¡±

    He covered his face protectively as a translucent, demonic-looking face appeared out of nowhere and charged towards them. Power covered his body as he prepared to fight back, but the disembodied being simply went through him like he was the ghost instead. Jonathan turned back at Lucy, whose body was slowly becoming more incorporeal by the second.

    No, it wasn¡¯t just her.

    His surroundings were also becoming more faded, as though he was somehow transported into an overexposed photograph. Jonathan¡¯s voice echoed back at him as he called out to his friend to no avail.

    And then everything turned white.

    ~ ~ ~

    Jonathan found himself back in a dream-like state again, except his surroundings were more akin to some sort of Salvador Dali painting brought to life. If this was a memory like last time, this person must have an extremely vivid imagination.

    He followed the singular path ahead of him, treading on the human skin carefully. They rippled slightly as though it was alive, but at least they were firm enough to take his weight. And so he kept on walking.

    A dull-coloured tent came into view out of nowhere. His surroundings turned a few shades darker as Jonathan¡¯s next step took him inside the mysterious tent. He looked around in surprise. There was nothing else in this fabric pavilion, other than a table with a crystal ball on it as well as two chairs. All in all, it resembled one of those fortune-telling booths in a carnival, if it was ¡®decorated¡¯ by a blind person.

    ¡°Baba Yaga! Oh, Baba Yaga. I beg of you! There must be a way!¡±

    Jonathan tried to turn to the source of the voice but found himself rooted on the spot yet again. He rolled his eyes internally; he was getting sick of viewing these memories. If someone was trying to help him, why couldn¡¯t they just tell him directly?

    There was a loud sigh.

    ¡°I am sorry, but that is what the Heavens have to say.¡± Baba Yaga, presumably, shook her head sadly. ¡°He was your one true love. But you were never meant to spend the rest of your life with him. It is a cruel fate, but it is yours. There is nothing I can do about it.¡±

    ¡°No, I won¡¯t believe it! There must be a way!¡± The woman sitting on the opposite end slammed the table, sweeping the crystal ball off it. ¡°Some witch you are. You can¡¯t even get my lover back!¡±

    Jonathan¡¯s mind pricked with recognition. The angry customer sounded exactly like Nicholaum¡¯s wife. Was she¡­

    ¡°The will of the Heavens is not something to be trifled with, girl.¡± Baba Yaga picked up her crystal ball calmly. ¡°You will lose everything chasing after what is lost.¡±

    ¡°Then so be it. I am willing to sacrifice everything just to be reunited with my love. I have looked everywhere. You are my last hope. You must help me!¡±

    ¡°Even if I could, I will not. Any attempt to go against natural law will wreak devastation upon myself,¡± Baba Yaga refused firmly. ¡°You are obsessed. I truly am sorry. Please, take your leave.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it? You won¡¯t even try to help?¡± The woman was trembling with anger. ¡°You are useless!¡±

    Green light exploded in the room.

    Pain shot through Jonathan as he watched Baba Yaga stumble back, clutching her right eye. Blood spurted from between her fingers, staining the floor. The woman shrieked in anger, releasing another green blast of energy that practically ripped off half of the old witch¡¯s face.

    ¡°That is all I can show you for now, Stonekeeper,¡± an unfamiliar voice rang out in Jonathan¡¯s head. ¡°Seek me, and all shall be revealed.¡±

    The tent shook violently as everything dissolved into white again.

 Chapter 12: Come Back To Life

    ¡°Jonathan! Jonathan, wake up!¡±

    Jonathan opened his eyes groggily. He was back in the hotel room, and Lucy¡¯s face was hovering uncomfortably close over his body. Jonathan¡¯s gaze shot to her neck immediately. His heart sank. Although she appeared to be unharmed, the marking was still on her skin.

    ¡°What happened?¡± he asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s my line. You just faded into the air for five minutes before reappearing on the ceiling. It¡¯s a good thing the bed was under you.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ Hang on-¡± Jonathan tilted his head at the surprisingly mature-sounding woman. ¡°Lucy? Are you back? How old are you this time?¡±

    ¡°Nine hundred and ninety-five,¡± Lucy answered, before flushing red promptly. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m sorry for all that I¡¯ve put you through. I wasn¡¯t myself, and¡­ Ugh, this is so embarrassing¡­¡±

    The man broke into a relieved smile, but confusion quickly covered it up again.

    ¡°How did you regain your memories?¡± he asked. ¡°Did something trigger it?¡±

    Lucy shook her head. ¡°My memories weren¡¯t lost; they were taken. And by a powerful magic user, no doubt. Whoever she is¡ª and I have an inkling of who¡ª she saw fit to return my memories for some reason.¡±

    ¡°Baba Yaga?¡±

    ¡°Yes, how did you know?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s our most likely suspect,¡± Jonathan replied simply, pulling out the summoning ritual from his coat. ¡°Angus gave me this; it¡¯s a foolproof method to contact her. I need your help deciphering some dark magic before we can summon her.¡±

    Lucy stepped away from the book instead. Jonathan looked at her in confusion.

    ¡°Something¡¯s wrong. Look, Jonathan. You have to tell me what¡¯s going on. I won¡¯t help you until you let me know.¡± Concern was spilling over her voice. ¡°I only remember snippets of what happened when my memories were taken, but I can recognise the magic traces around that summoning ritual. It¡¯s remarkably similar to that woman in the hospital.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not Baba Yaga, is it?¡±

    ¡°Definitely not. But whoever she is, her magic is closely related to that witch.¡± Lucy held Jonathan¡¯s shoulders tightly. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to impose on you, but all this seems really dangerous. You may be bulletproof, but you¡¯re not impervious to everything, especially magic. How much longer do you intend to do this by yourself?¡±

    Jonathan exhaled slowly. Lucy was right. And so was Anya. All his life, nothing had ever held his interest for long. He had always chalked it up to boredom or made excuses for himself that it was too difficult to continue. But buried beneath the field of rotten excuses lay the true reason behind his fickle-mindedness.

    Loneliness.

    It didn¡¯t help that he was the type to run away from others at the slightest hint of judgement either, even if they genuinely were just trying to care for him. It also didn¡¯t help that he naturally enjoyed the company of others, until life taught him that relationships shouldn¡¯t be treasured if they weren¡¯t meant to last.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, Lucy.¡± Jonathan nodded at his friend.

    ¡°You deserve to know what happened.¡±

    ~ ~ ~

    The one-eyed witch slumped against her chair, panting slightly in exhaustion. She waved her hands as though shuffling imaginary mahjong tiles, and the crystal ball in front of her ceased its glowing.

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    ¡°Did it work? Did you contact him?¡± Anya asked anxiously. ¡°Is he okay?¡±

    ¡°His involvement with another woman almost cost him their lives,¡± Baba Yaga muttered. ¡°But worry not, my magic was still strong enough to divert the spirit elsewhere just in time. I have shown him what I can. All he needs to do now is perform the summoning ritual to bring himself here.¡±

    ¡°Why not bring yourself to him?¡±

    ¡°That is a risk I cannot take,¡± the witch replied darkly. ¡°I can only use magicked familiars to carry out my actions in your world, or I risk exposing myself to the Ghost Of Glasgow.¡±

    ¡°Why are you so afraid of her?¡± Anya asked. ¡°You¡¯re Baba Yaga, for goodness sake! You¡¯re a legend, literally! What did she even do to you?¡±

    The crystal ball on the desk flickered, and a faint figure formed in it.

    ¡°Allow me to tell you a story,¡± Baba Yaga began, setting her hands on the ball. ¡°Once upon a time, there was once a couple deeply in love. There was a little snag, however. The woman was a witch, while the man was a normal human. But despite their taboo relationship, they sought to live a simple life like every other husband and wife.¡±

    ¡°Let me guess, their community found out?¡± Anya said.

    ¡°Indeed. They had lived for years in peace, but their secret was eventually still leaked to their village.¡± The witch nodded. ¡°Terrified of the woman¡¯s practices, harmless as they were, the villagers deemed her a demon and trapped her in her house. They burned it down to get rid of her.¡±

    Anya watched as the gas in the crystal ball formed a feminine figure struggling and screaming in pain.

    ¡°Hold on, are you saying she died and became a vengeful ghost?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Not quite. Turns out, it was her husband who died in her place to give her a chance to escape. The villagers, satisfied with the single charred corpse in the house, assumed that the threat was eliminated. They never questioned the husband¡¯s whereabouts, and simply thought he was already secretly killed by his wife.¡±

    The crystal ball turned white.

    ¡°After recovering her magic, the heartbroken witch searched for years to find a way to bring her husband back. It eventually brought her to my doorstep, where I used fortune telling to determine the outcome of her endeavours. In fact, it was at this very table that we met,¡± Baba Yaga continued. ¡°Unfortunately, nothing but bad news awaited us. Not only had that man long passed on, the woman was also never fated to be with her true love in the first place.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m assuming she did not take the news well?¡±

    Baba Yaga sighed softly as her fingers ran over the deep scratch marks on the table¡¯s surface. ¡°Scorned and bitter, she lashed out at me. She tore out my right eye and even caused irreversible damage to my face. It was only thanks to the help of my disciple, Natasha, that we were able to banish her from my house together. And that, which I quickly learned, only proved to be my biggest mistake.¡±

    ¡°How so? You couldn¡¯t help her even if you tried. It¡¯s not your fault.¡±

    ¡°No, it is my fault. Because it was my incompetence that drove her to relentlessly pursue her husband through his multiple reincarnations.¡± She closed her eye painfully. ¡°It was because of me that she became the Ghost Of Glasgow.¡±

    Anya¡¯s soul rocked the jar slightly at the revelation. ¡°So that explains why all the victims were female. That explains why there was no obvious thread linking them together. She¡¯s just a jealous woman stalking her husband over his reincarnated lives.¡±

    ¡°Her obsession with her late husband drove her to hunt down every woman that he fell in love with. Paranormal or human, they stood no chance. She was not the most powerful witch, but she was obsessed. Deranged, even. Every hunt was meticulously planned, and carried out to perfection.¡±

    There was a swollen moment of pause.

    ¡°Now you see why I must hide? The Ghost Of Glasgow will stop at nothing to fulfil her obsession,¡± Baba Yaga said. ¡°I am fortunate that my house has been enchanted to be constantly moving in and out of dimensions. If I reveal my presence in your world for too long, nothing is stopping her from hunting me down and finishing the job. I may not have been romantically involved with her husband, but I am a huge reason behind her pain now.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s it, then?¡± Anya protested. ¡°You cower in fear for the rest of your life? Trapped in your own house forever?¡±

    ¡°There are others who have suffered much worse fates,¡± Baba Yaga replied grimly. ¡°I have already meddled too much in the human world to atone for my sins. Be grateful, girl. I risked exposing myself to save you from that vengeful witch.¡±

    ¡°Wait, something¡¯s not right,¡± Anya spoke slowly, deep in thought. ¡°If the Ghost Of Glasgow really is only hunting down the women in her husband¡¯s lives, what has it got to do with me? Why did you see fit to take my soul?¡±

    Baba Yaga fidgeted uncomfortably. Realisation dawned on Anya as her soul flushed ice cold. It couldn¡¯t be¡­

    ¡°Because the present incarnation of her husband is none other than the Immortal Stonekeeper, Jonathan Warner.¡±

 Chapter 13: The Witchéˆ¥æªš Disciple

    Jonathan found himself outside the gates of the asylum once again. Not like he relished the thought of revisiting this place, but Lucy had decided that something about the ritual smelled oddly familiar.

    Literally.

    The dark magic in the inscriptions possessed a whiff of magic very similar to the old woman in the asylum. Whether or not she actually was Baba Yaga, they did not know. But even common sense was enough to deduce that this woman was somehow closely related to Russia¡¯s most powerful witch. Jonathan only hoped that Lucy would be of more help than he was back then.

    To his surprise, the duo was stopped by the wardens before they could enter.

    ¡°Hey, remember me?¡± Jonathan¡¯s voice sounded patronising even to his own ears. ¡°I¡¯m back to visit the same patient. You do remember me, right? I¡¯m an associate of Angus.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m not daft.¡± The chief warden did not deign to even look friendly this time. ¡°That¡¯s why we stopped you. Something has happened.¡±

    ¡°If this is about my partner¡¯s death, I thought Angus already cleared it with you. I was not the reason for-¡±

    ¡°No, we don¡¯t pretty much care about that.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Baba Yaga died in her room just yesterday. Suicide, or so it looks. Don¡¯t suppose you lot have anything to do with that?¡±

    Jonathan stepped back in shock. ¡°W-what? Of course not! What reason would we have to kill her?¡±

    ¡°What reason do you have to visit her, then?¡± the warden shot back. ¡°I didn¡¯t ask you the last time because questioning Angus¡¯ associates wasn¡¯t a good look. But our patient died shortly after you visited her. We¡¯ve taken a look at the cameras; you guys had a brief altercation with her. What did you do to her?¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t our fault!¡± Jonathan protested. ¡°She got violent-¡±

    ¡°-For a reason, didn¡¯t she?¡± The wardens were all glaring at him now. ¡°She had been catatonic for years. You show up and she suddenly wakes up? You¡¯re not fooling anyone. What is your relation to her?¡±

    The man backed away slowly. Not like their numbers frightened him, but he would be in a bigger heap of trouble if he used his powers on them. He had to get out of this with his words, which last he recalled, had only gotten him into more trouble than he had intended.

    ¡°Gentlemen, if I may.¡± Lucy¡¯s soothing voice drew all their attention. ¡°Please direct your attention to me. I will explain everything.¡±

    The wardens turned to her immediately.

    ¡°Lady, I recognise you,¡± the chief warden snarled. ¡°You were with him the last time too. Don¡¯t think I can¡¯t recognise you just because you dyed your hair black. You won¡¯t get away with this. We have you now. The police will-¡±

    His mouth slammed shut as red flickered in his irises. Jonathan looked around him in confusion. The rest of the wardens seemed oddly petrified as well, as though they were frozen on the spot by an invisible force.

    ¡°Open the gate for us,¡± Lucy commanded, and one of the guards pressed a button.

    The vampire sauntered into the hallway, and Jonathan scuttled in after her. A strange wave of magic washed over him as he passed through the gates. Lucy swivelled on her heel and turned back to the dazed-looking guards.

    ¡°Forget we were ever here.¡± She waved her hand casually. ¡°And carry on with your day.¡±

    The red glow in her eyes flickered away as she gave Jonathan a slight smirk. She snapped her fingers as a dark cloak materialised, draping over her body. Jonathan examined his slightly sparkling body in awe.

    ¡°No need for disguises now. I have rendered us invisible to the cameras.¡± There was a slight hint of satisfaction in Lucy¡¯s voice. She gestured to the lift.

    ¡°Lead the way, Jon.¡±

    ~ ~ ~

    The scene that greeted Jonathan once he stepped into the room did not surprise him. Of course, the wardens did not bother to take out the noose from the old woman¡¯s neck, given that they had simply left her to the elements ever since she was imprisoned in this psychiatric ward.

    Jonathan stepped carefully over the fallen table, evidently kicked over in Baba Yaga¡¯s struggle as she choked on the noose fashioned by her bedsheets. He looked around the soulless white walls again. There were no other signs of a fight. Either she was murdered by a very careful killer, or the woman had actually committed suicide. Given the Ghost Of Glasgow¡¯s stellar track record, both possibilities were equally likely.

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    ¡°In case you were wondering if this is a suicide, I can safely tell you that it¡¯s not,¡± Lucy stated nonchalantly, her irises glowing a deep red as she observed the room.

    ¡°How¡¯d you come to that conclusion?¡±

    ¡°Someone else was here recently.¡± The vampire¡¯s eyes regained their original colour. ¡°A vampire, to be precise. The scent of dark magic lingering in the air is really thick.¡±

    Jonathan bent down, picking up Anya¡¯s blackened necklace from the ground. There was no longer any latent light magic in it. Whatever corrupted the relic was powerful enough to override its protective charms.

    ¡°That item came from the Scottish Witch Market, didn¡¯t it?¡± The necklace had drawn Lucy¡¯s attention as well. ¡°I¡¯d recognise their craftsmanship anywhere. Oh dear, it seems like that vampire destroyed it as well.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it protected by light magic?¡± Jonathan queried. ¡°I thought vampires are afraid of that.¡±

    Lucy shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s a popular misconception. Vampires are afraid of holy magic, not light magic. In fact, our dark magic corrupts light magic easily. Light magic repels spirits, not Nephilim or demonic beings. It just so happens that most relics infused with light magic also happen to be blessed with holy magic as well. Unfortunately, this necklace only possesses light magic.¡±

    Jonathan inhaled sharply in realisation. ¡°This woman was so desperate to take Anya¡¯s necklace for herself. Could it be that she¡¯s haunted by a spirit?¡±

    ¡°Are you saying the Ghost Of Glasgow is an actual ghost? I don¡¯t think so. This woman had been haunted by a vampire for many years.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Lucy furrowed her eyebrows in concentration. ¡°It¡¯s all coming back to me now. She was catatonic when we met her, wasn¡¯t she? I didn¡¯t recognise the signs back then, but I do now. The reason behind her comatose state is because a vampire repeatedly used hypnosis magic on her.¡±

    Jonathan almost faltered at the revelation.

    ¡°Hold on, I think I recognise her too,¡± Lucy said. ¡°She¡¯s not Baba Yaga. She¡¯s Natasha, the disciple of Baba Yaga! There¡¯s no mistaking it; she¡¯s famous among us Nephilims.¡±

    ¡°Is that why your memories were taken?¡± Jonathan speculated. ¡°Someone knew that you would recognise Natasha in a single glance, so they sought to take them away?¡±

    ¡°No point speculating pointlessly. And there¡¯s no time to waste,¡± Lucy said urgently. ¡°The stench of murder is still strong enough to recreate what happened. Let us see the truth for ourselves.¡±

    The woman muttered under her breath as dark particles swirled around her fingertips. There was a slight shimmer in the air as reddish-dark lines began spreading as though reality itself was cracking. With a final dramatic wave of her hands, Lucy flicked the black liquid from her fingers onto the surrounding walls. Jonathan stepped back unconsciously as a slightly reddish hue blanketed everything in the room except for Lucy and himself.

    The door behind him opened without warning, and a huge figure walked right through him.

    ¡°Dinner time, Baba Yaga,¡± the slightly translucent chief warden grunted, leaving a plate of brownish mush carelessly beside the bed. ¡°Eat it, or don¡¯t. Just don¡¯t die on my watch.¡±

    The door closed.

    Natasha got out of the bed gingerly to pick up the plate of food but froze for some reason. Fear spread over her face as she clutched Anya¡¯s necklace tightly and began praying feverishly in Russian.

    ¡°Your gods cannot help you, Natasha. This is your Purgatory.¡±

    Jonathan¡¯s ears pricked at the familiar-sounding voice. The recognition was faint, but he had definitely heard that unique-sounding Scottish accent before. Natasha trembled, praying louder as a dark figure separated itself from the shadows and walked menacingly towards her.

    ¡°No way¡­¡± Jonathan breathed. ¡°It¡¯s her¡­¡±

    Morevia Wright snapped her fingers as the bedsheet began tying itself into a familiar-looking knot. She leaned in closer to the old woman as red began flickering in her irises-

    ¡°Otoydi ot menya!¡± Natasha wailed, shoving the pendant in her face. It was no use. Morevia snatched it from her neck and squeezed hard. The relic cracked as black particles drowned out the pulsating light in it. She tossed it onto the floor carelessly.

    ¡°Jonathan Warner and Anya Sechina.¡± Morevia shoved the woman against the bedframe roughly. ¡°What did you tell them?¡±

    The woman only responded by praying louder.

    ¡°Oi, I asked you a question!¡± Morevia yelled as the bedsheets hung themselves over Natasha¡¯s neck. ¡°Answer me, you stupid old hag!¡±

    Natasha whimpered, shaking her head fearfully.

    ¡°Fine.¡± Morevia¡¯s voice dropped to a whisper. ¡°No last words for you then. You won¡¯t be spilling any more secrets.¡±

    She turned away and waved a hand.

    Jonathan watched in horror as the bedsheets tightened around her neck, lifting the old woman up. Her eyes bulged and a strained gurgle escaped her throat as she twisted and struggled against the fabric, clawing desperately at the bedsheet tying itself onto the stationary ceiling fan. But it was no use.

    And just like that, her unnaturally long life was over.

    There was an unceremonious thud as her legs spasmed for the last time, kicking over the cupboard by her bedside. A dark stain formed itself on her pants as her bladder let go, leaking urine along her wrinkled legs.

    Morevia Wright stared at the corpse expressionlessly before vanishing into the shadows as quickly as she came.

 Chapter 14: Baba Yagaéˆ¥æªš Hut

    Jonathan spent the next few seconds silently wondering what he should do next after the reddish hue retreated from the room. He had seen his fair share of gruesome deaths, but witnessing a murder play out in front of his eyes was a new kind of disturbing.

    Still, it did not add up. If Morevia Wright was the Ghost Of Glasgow, why would she kill her own sister? Why vary her methods of killing so many times? When did she turn from a witch into a vampire?

    More questions turned up the harder Jonathan thought about it, but it was undeniable that he saw her murdering the old woman with his own eyes.

    ¡°So what now? Do you recognise that vampire?¡± Lucy asked. ¡°Because I don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but it does not matter,¡± Jonathan said grimly. ¡°Baba Yaga is definitely involved somehow. I just know she is. We need to summon her.¡±

    ¡°If you wish¡­¡± Lucy muttered. ¡°Fortunately, my dark magic lets us bypass the majority of the ritual, so we won¡¯t have to do any of that ¡®face four corners¡¯ nonsense. Did you at least bring the bottle of vodka?¡±

    Jonathan nodded and snapped his fingers. Sparks burst from his fingertips, conjuring a completely filled bottle of vodka in his palm.

    ¡°Are you ready?¡± the vampire asked with closed eyes as dark magic swirled turbulently around her. Jonathan quickly stood beside her, setting the bottle in between them.

    ¡°Baba Yaga, Mother Of Death!¡± Lucy roared in a distorted voice. ¡°Round to us-¡±

    ¡°-We enter the hut of Baba Yaga willingly!¡± both of them announced in unison.

    Jonathan opened his glowing eyes as a huge reservoir of magic poured in from another dimension. The room trembled as though an earthquake had suddenly decided to tear through London. Grey soaked the walls as reality seemed to melt before his eyes. The vibration intensified as the vodka drained itself from the bottle.

    And then they were no longer in the asylum.

    ~ ~ ~

    ¡°Greetings, at last, Immortal Stonekeeper. I have been awaiting your arrival.¡±

    The first thing Jonathan noticed was how dark and messy his surroundings were. The second was how much he wanted to punch this old hag for hurting Anya.

    ¡°How the fuck do you know me?¡± He stomped up to the one-eyed witch sitting behind a rotting wooden table. The old woman simply pointed at him.

    Jonathan growled aggressively as he felt something clamp onto his legs. He looked down. They were tied down by a cluster of vines that the wooden ground had somehow sprouted.

    ¡°Have care,¡± Baba Yaga warned. ¡°This glass jar is the only thing keeping your partner¡¯s soul from dispersing. I can¡¯t help her if you drop it onto the floor.¡±

    Jonathan ceased his struggle.

    ¡°Well, well. You certainly have seen better days, Baba.¡± Lucy walked into the light. Her dark cloak was draped over her shoulders again, barely concealing the two trusty pistols hanging on her sides.

    ¡°Lucy Westenra, or do you no longer go by that name?¡± Baba Yaga¡¯s eye flitted to the vampire. ¡°My apologies for taking away your memories; it was a mistake I sought to correct too late.¡±

    ¡°Carpenter. Lucy Carpenter,¡± Lucy stated sharply. ¡°You took my memories so that I wouldn¡¯t recognise your disciple, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    Baba Yaga kept her head hung low.

    ¡°My poor Natasha¡­ My sweet, sweet Natasha¡­¡± Her voice shook with emotion. ¡°After everything you had to go through, I¡¯m sorry I couldn¡¯t be there for you. Rest in peace, my dear child¡­¡±

    Wood scraped against wood as Baba Yaga stood up.

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    ¡°This has gone on long enough,¡± she said. ¡°I have brought you here to resolve what I could not back then. I am placing my trust in you, Jonathan Warner. All shall be revealed.¡±

    ¡°You know who the Ghost of Glasgow is?¡± Jonathan asked cautiously.

    ¡°No, but you have been having strange dreams lately, haven¡¯t you? Dreams that seem like memories of a distant past. Dreams that feel like you were there, even if that is impossible.¡±

    The man narrowed his eyes.

    ¡°The Ghost of Glasgow is no more than a mere woman, driven to obsession by jealousy and longing for her dead husband. You, stonekeeper, are his present incarnation,¡± Baba Yaga continued. ¡°I took the soul of your lover, Anya, to keep her safe. I took the life essence of your friend, Cornelia, to shelter her. But for Carpenter¡­ I will admit that I was only driven by my selfishness.¡±

    She took a deep breath.

    ¡°That woman disfigured me because I couldn¡¯t help her reunite with her husband. It was only with the help of Natasha that we managed to drive her out of my house,¡± she said. ¡°Unfortunately, that foolish girl was too brave for her own good. After catching wind of the murder sprees, Natasha struck out on her own to confront that hunter without my knowledge. By the time I found out, Natasha had already been badly injured. And to make things worse, her mind was permanently scarred.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t want me to find out about Natasha¡¯s involvement, because you knew I¡¯d recognise vampire hypnosis¡­¡± Lucy breathed.

    ¡°Yes, I divined that she would meet you soon after. So I recklessly took action to prevent you from recognising her. Natasha had suffered enough, and I did not want her to be dragged back into this problem any longer,¡± Baba Yaga admitted. ¡°But I see now that I was a fool and a coward to have removed myself from the world. Running and hiding cannot be a solution to everything, neither is denying destiny.¡±

    The witch picked up the jar on her table and passed it to Jonathan.

    ¡°It is time I returned your companions¡¯ souls to you,¡± she said. ¡°I pray you would forgive me for all the wrong I have done. When you return to the living world, your companions will be returned to their bodies. Your lover has opened my eyes to the folly of my cowardly ways. She will tell you all that has transpired.¡±

    Jonathan opened his mouth, but his surroundings were already beginning to blur before his eyes. He clutched the jar tightly, feeling the turbulent magic tug on his body once more.

    ¡°Farewell, Stonekeeper. And Godspeed.¡±

    ~ ~ ~

    A few hours later, Jonathan was on the verge of zoning out as Anya continued yammering in his ear. Although her soul had only just been returned to her body, she certainly wasn¡¯t lacking in energy. He, on the other hand, only wanted to do one thing right now.

    ¡°Anya¡­¡± he interrupted her. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m sorry for everything. You were right, every word of it. I screwed up. Hell, I screwed up my whole life. I could¡¯ve- I should¡¯ve been better, but I¡¯m always running away from everything. I kept pushing you away. I-¡±

    Anya cut him off with a tight hug.

    ¡°It is I who should apologise. I was unnecessarily harsh on you, and I hurt you with my words.¡± Her body was trembling. ¡°But you saved me anyway. You went through so much to get my soul back. You¡¯ve been nothing but kind to me, and I only saw your imperfections¡­¡±

    ¡°I love you, Anya.¡± Jonathan embraced her tightly.

    ¡°I love you too. I¡¯ll never take you for granted again¡­¡±

    The memories came back to him one by one. Every fight, every time he forced up a wall between them, every hurt look in Anya¡¯s eyes as he turned away from her. If he could just go back and punch his past self for being such a foolish coward, he would. Anya didn¡¯t need his protection. It was he who wanted to protect himself from heartbreak.

    ¡°Uh¡­ not to break up a tender moment, but what just happened?¡±

    Jonathan let go of Anya slowly and turned to the teenager walking into the medical bay.

    ¡°I¡¯ve found the Ghost Of Glasgow, and I¡¯m going to confront her,¡± he said behind gritted teeth. ¡°She¡¯s going to pay for all her crimes.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Angus raised an eyebrow sceptically. ¡°Who is she?¡±

    ¡°Morevia Wright, a vampire. I know where she lives.¡±

    Anya tugged at his hand. ¡°Are you sure? I really can¡¯t fathom why she would kill her own sister and bury the body in her own backyard.¡±

    ¡°What proof do you have?¡± Angus folded his arms.

    ¡°We saw her kill Natasha, Baba Yaga¡¯s disciple,¡± Lucy answered for him. ¡°With our own eyes, might I add. Morevia Wright has been using her hypnosis on her every day so that she doesn¡¯t spill any secrets. She killed her to silence her permanently when she found out about our visit.¡±

    ¡°There was enough residual dark magic in the air to recreate the crime scene,¡± Jonathan added. ¡°If nothing else, Morevia is responsible for the death of at least one person. I trust I don¡¯t need your permission to apprehend her?¡±

    Angus shrugged. ¡°Just try not to kill her. We still have questions for her.¡±

    Jonathan nodded and turned towards the door. He felt a soft hand hold his arm gently.

    ¡°Be careful, will you?¡± Anya whispered, sounding almost like she was pleading with him. The man gave her a gentle smile.

    ¡°I will. I promise.¡±

 Chapter 15: Now You See Me

    Morevia had not chosen to leave the city, nor did she put up any protection spells of any kind. So either this was one big trap, or she was confident enough in her powers to battle Jonathan on her own. Jonathan couldn¡¯t decide which was scarier.

    His eyes flitted to the yawning darkness in the house as he walked up the steps silently, trying to shake off the feeling of deja vu. If he had a quid for every time he faced off with a vampire in a dark house, he¡¯d have two. It wasn¡¯t a lot, but it was still a bit odd that it happened twice.

    The door creaked open as Jonathan stepped into the house boldly. A seated human silhouette was outlined in front of him by the moonlight streaming in. Jonathan relaxed his body, approaching it cautiously.

    ¡°I should¡¯ve known you¡¯d eventually catch up to me, inspector.¡±

    Light bloomed in the room without warning as the silhouette disappeared. Jonathan whipped his head to the source of the voice behind him.

    Morevia Wright was dressed in a bright red cloak, slumping her body against the wall as though she was a tragic femme fatale in a noir movie. She sighed wistfully as her despaired gaze met his.

    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you run?¡± Jonathan asked suspiciously.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been running my whole life, good sir.¡± The vampire had gotten up to her feet in a literal blink of an eye. ¡°No more, my love. If it¡¯s my fate to be caught, I¡¯m glad it¡¯s you who catches me for the last time.¡±

    Jonathan grabbed her hand, pulling it away from his chest. Morevia twirled around theatrically instead and fell into his arms.

    ¡°I am not your lover, lady.¡± Jonathan pushed her away. ¡°The man you have been pining for is long dead. So many lives have been lost because of your obsession. This ends tonight. I¡¯m sorry for what has happened to you, but you won¡¯t hurt anyone else.¡±

    ¡°You saved me from the horrid man.¡± Pearly tears rolled down the vampire¡¯s face. ¡°You still love me, don¡¯t you? Deep down, I know you¡¯re still in there. Deep down, you¡¯re still my husband. Look within you, please¡­¡±

    The inspector drew his gun, pointing it straight at Morevia¡¯s face. Not like it was necessary given his powers, but he was hoping that it would at least make her back down.

    ¡°Is that little display meant to insinuate that you¡¯re going to shoot me, Warner?¡± Morevia chuckled softly, tucking a stray fringe behind her ear.

    ¡°If I must. This gun is loaded with silver bullets. This is your last chance to back down.¡±

    ¡°Come now, don¡¯t lie to yourself. You don¡¯t have it in you to kill me. It¡¯s too obvious.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah? Try me.¡± Jonathan snarled, cocking his gun-

    It burst from his fingertips, flying out of the window. Jonathan flinched as he stretched his hands for it, but cold fingers clasped around his jaw. His eyes widened in shock as Morevia put her hand behind his head and crashed her lips into his.

    Sparks flew from his body, and the vampire flew backwards. She yelped in pain as her back smashed into the edge of a wall before she crashed into a table on her way back to the ground. Jonathan¡¯s conscience stung him as he watched the whimpering lady gripping her waist in pain.

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    ¡°That was very mean of you to attack me like that, but I¡¯ll forgive you.¡± Morevia¡¯s voice dripped with poisonous honey as she stood up gingerly. ¡°You¡¯ve been under a lot of stress lately, so you lashed out. It¡¯s alright. We¡¯ve been through worse, haven¡¯t we?¡±

    Lightning danced around Jonathan¡¯s eyes as he aimed his hand at her. Nervousness pooled in his stomach. The Ghost Of Glasgow was skilled enough to kill even those who should be immortal. He was confident enough in his invulnerability, but if he screwed up again and let her escape¡­

    ¡°Get over yourself, woman,¡± he spat. ¡°You¡¯re bloody delusional.¡±

    The taunt worked like a charm. Morevia lunged at him in response, flinging him against the wall. The house literally shook with the impact. Jonathan got up to his feet as he casually brushed off the crushed rubble from his clothes, expecting her to follow up with another pointless attack.

    But she didn¡¯t.

    ¡°You want me, my love? Come and get me.¡± She giggled cheekily. ¡°It¡¯s been seven hundred years since you last chased me, after all.¡±

    Jonathan swore under his breath as Morevia sank into the shadows. He flipped on all the light switches in the house, looking frantically for any trace of slithering shadows. Where the hell did she go-

    In the bedroom, silly. I¡¯m getting myself prettied up for you.

    Wood crashed around him as he followed her voice and broke down the bedroom door. He flipped the light switch immediately, only to see Morevia already right in front of him, dressed in a familiar-looking mediaeval dress.

    ¡°Do you remember, Nicholaum?¡± Her breath warmed his ear as the tips of her breasts brushed against him. ¡°Remember who your wife is.¡±

    Jonathan swatted his hand, but the vampire slid backwards as though a rope had yanked her away. She walked up the ceiling and vanished again. The inspector put on Anya¡¯s goggles, chasing after the traces of dark magic. They disappeared into the wall outside the house, near where his gun lay.

    ¡°Aha!¡± A dark figure sent him flying back into the house through the window.

    Sodding piece of-

    ¡°It was me, inspector! I am the Ghost Of Glasgow! I murdered all the women who dared to come close to you!¡± Morevia¡¯s voice was going higher by the second as gleeful madness danced in her eyes. ¡°You can¡¯t catch me! You can¡¯t-¡±

    She gasped, staggering backwards as she clutched her bloodied torso.

    Jonathan rolled to his feet, revealing the pistol hidden underneath his body. He tucked it back in his back pocket as he walked towards the vampire who was now leaning against her sofa. Jonathan pushed her body upright.

    ¡°Y-you got me, Warner.¡± Morevia¡¯s lips were trembling. ¡°You did it¡­ You closed the case. You killed the Ghost Of Glasgow¡­¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be dramatic, lady.¡± The inspector took out a bullet from his weapon¡¯s chamber and waved it in her face. ¡°See? These may be silver bullets but they¡¯re non-lethal rounds. Nicked them from a powerful witch, but that¡¯s none of your concern.¡±

    Jonathan pulled the woman to her feet. Thankfully, she did not deign to resist any further, except for a few spasms of pain.

    ¡°The Immortal Association still has more questions for you,¡± he said. ¡°But until we get back, you¡¯re going to be in a lot of discomfort.¡±

    Morevia winced as she chuckled gloomily. ¡°Well played, inspector. Well played¡­¡±

    Jonathan glanced at the woman once again. An oddly serene expression was etched on her face, as though she had suddenly come to terms with being caught after a seven-hundred-year-long murder spree.

    A nagging feeling tugged at his gut, but he pushed it back down. Speculation could come later. There may still be some unanswered questions, but she was at least responsible for one murder. As to her true motive, all the answers he needed were simply an interrogation away.

    Jonathan picked the vampire up and burst out of the house.

 Chapter 16: Now You Donéˆ¥æª›

    ¡°Will you stop pacing around already?¡±

    Anya stopped abruptly, forcing herself to slump onto a chair. Her legs started trembling, so she stood up, before sitting down again. And then a slender hand touched her shoulder gently.

    ¡°Jon¡¯s a smart man. He¡¯ll be fine.¡± Lucy gave her a warm smile. ¡°Besides, he¡¯s quite literally invulnerable. I don¡¯t think anything can even remotely come close to hurting him.¡±

    ¡°I have a bad feeling about this.¡± Anya shook her head. ¡°There are too many loose ends, too many unanswered questions. I¡¯m afraid he¡¯s walking into a trap.¡±

    Lucy¡¯s expression darkened as well.

    ¡°You¡¯re not alone. I feel it too¡­¡± she whispered. ¡°I have a sinister feeling about all this. It¡¯s so odd; I¡¯ve never felt a hunch like this before.¡±

    A cold breeze wafted in as Angus opened the door from behind them, holding a tray of bottles.

    ¡°A cell has been prepared for Morevia Wright,¡± he stated matter-of-factly. ¡°We will decide what to do after she has answered all our questions. So until then¡­ Drinks, anyone?¡±

    ¡°Are you even old enough to drink?¡± Anya uncorked a bottle of liquor, laughing slightly.

    ¡°Technically, I¡¯m over eight hundred years old.¡± Angus was drinking straight from the bottle. ¡°Don¡¯t let this eighteen-year-old body fool you.¡±

    He offered another bottle to Lucy, who refused it with a small pout.

    ¡°How very considerate of you.¡± The vampire poured out the alcohol into a glass instead, her voice laced with sarcasm. ¡°These bottles are made of silver.¡±

    Anya glanced at the bottles, finally realising that Lucy did not have a reflection on any of them.

    ¡°My bad¡­¡± Angus chuckled dryly.

    The supernatural beings¡¯ voices faded into the background as Anya shivered again. It was right in the middle of summer and they were deep in the middle of a building. Where was this wind coming from?

    Her hand grasped the empty air in front of her chest absentmindedly, before falling back into her lap. God, she felt so vulnerable without her magic necklace. It didn¡¯t help that the Witch Market needed two more weeks to make and deliver another relic to her.

    A voice whispered in her ear.

    ¡°Did you guys hear that?¡± Anya jumped out of her seat, turning around frantically. She glanced at Lucy and Angus, who had also stopped drinking.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a hunch¡­¡± Lucy breathed as fangs popped out of her gums.

    ¡°It¡¯s real. Something else is here.¡± Angus stood up, colour fading from his irises and white diluting his hair. Wispy traces of bluish-light magic peeked from underneath his skin.

    The wine bottles exploded without warning.

    Lucy yelped, stumbling back as a large piece of silver lodged itself in her chest. Wind howled as though a category five hurricane was tearing through the room. Anya¡¯s heart raced with fear; she recognised this.

    ¡°Who goes there?¡± Angus roared, although his voice was barely audible over the sound of the wind.

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    His body swelled to twice its size as long, silvery hair draped over his now scaly body. All hints of blood fled from his complexion. Every trace of humanity retreated from his youthful looks as magic thundered down from his face, coating his body in a turbulent bluish glow.

    Anya¡¯s third eye flashed in warning.

    ¡°Angus, behind you!¡±

    -Was what she would¡¯ve screamed, but something had frozen her in place. Her eyes flitted down. A paralysing coldness washed over her body as her shadow quite literally crawled up her legs. Anya screamed silently in discomfort again; it felt like an army of spiders was crawling over her whole body.

    A blue beam of light narrowly missed her. Angus was throwing out magic beams at some kind of spirit visible only to a third eye. But it was darting around at an alarming speed, and the fae¡¯s magic only seemed to be able to move in a straight line. Anya could only watch on in horror as it dived into the bottles on the table.

    Alcohol leaked onto the ground, accompanied by the piercing sound of shattering silver. A few of them found their way into Lucy¡¯s body, incapacitating her as she clutched her side in pain.

    Fire burst from the alcohol, which had already formed a circle around Angus somehow. The fae screamed in pure terror, shrinking away from licking flames.

    What the hell? It knows all their weaknesses-

    Anya hissed in pain as a silver shard flew in her direction, leaving behind a deep gash in her wrist. A dull pain stabbed at her again as she felt a small icy cold appendage on her wound, as though a finger was digging through it. Blood flowed out, following an invisible trail of sorts to the ground. The woman squinted her eyes, trying to make out the blood message forming on the floor-

    Fog encroached on her mind without warning, and everything faded to black.

    ~ ~ ~

    Jonathan almost dropped Morevia in shock when the sight of the devastated room greeted him. The first thing he noticed was the amount of paranormal medics he didn¡¯t know the Immortal Association had. The first thing he cared about was Anya¡¯s disappearance and Lucy¡¯s painful-looking injuries.

    ¡°Lucy!¡± he yelled, almost slipping over the mopped floor as he rushed to the bandaged woman on the bed.

    ¡°Keep your voice down, boy. You¡¯re in a hospital,¡± Angus said. He seemed to be unharmed, except for the soot stains on his face and some glowing blue streaks on his skin that looked suspiciously like burn marks.

    ¡°What happened while I was gone?¡± Jonathan asked. ¡°Someone attacked you?¡±

    ¡°You have the wrong person¡­¡± Angus muttered. ¡°Either that, or Morevia Wright isn¡¯t the only ¡®Ghost Of Glasgow¡¯. We were attacked by some sort of spirit. A poltergeist, I think.¡±

    ¡°Are you saying the Ghost Of Glasgow is an actual ghost?¡± Lucy¡¯s voice echoed in Jonathan¡¯s head as the pieces of the puzzle began to settle into their place.

    He cast a look at Morevia Wright again, who was being hauled away by the Minotaurs. She did not struggle as expected, but a deep knowing sadness was apparent on her face, almost as though she was regretting something.

    Jonathan paced the room, deep in thought. His memories, the brandings, the sudden change in killing method¡­ They were all linked somehow. The only question left was, what triggered the Ghost Of Glasgow to come out again? If she really was going after her ex-husband¡¯s new lovers, how did she find out who to look for?

    ¡°You were lucky we realised that the true monster was someone else.¡± The inspector tilted his head, remembering Anya¡¯s words to Morevia-

    And then it all clicked.

    There was only one culprit that fit everything in the puzzle. Morevia taking the fall, his weird memories, Natasha¡¯s involvement, Baba Yaga¡¯s fear, the Saint Nicholas branding, the reason why the Ghost Of Glasgow started to use soul extraction magic to kill her victims¡­

    If only he had seen it earlier.

    ¡°Jonathan, there¡¯s something you need to see.¡± A centaur trotted over, showing him a picture of the blood message written on the ground.

    ¡®I pledge my love, devotion, faith and honour as I join my life to yours. Though death do us part, our love endures,¡¯ it read.

    Jonathan bowed his head. This whole saga had been nothing but a tragedy. And he was the only person who could end this.

    ¡°That must be where that poltergeist has taken Anya,¡± Angus mused, looking over his shoulder. ¡°But what does it mean?¡±

    ¡°The grave of Nicholaum, where he was burned to death,¡± Jonathan said grimly, ignoring the confused stares. ¡°She¡¯s calling him to be with her.¡±

    His eyes hardened as Angus left his bed to question Morevia Wright as well. No more running this time.

 Chapter 17: The Ghost Of Glasgow

    Jonathan took his time walking towards the cliff edge overlooking the tumultuous waves crashing on the rocks below him. There was no one else there, except a single female body dangling from a tree just above a fifty-metre drop.

    Or so it would seem. Jonathan took a deep breath.

    ¡°Mistress Mylis Wright, why don¡¯t you save us the antics and show yourself?¡± he called to the air. ¡°It¡¯s me you want, after all.¡±

    The air beside Anya¡¯s unconscious body shimmered in the moonlight, before taking the form of a translucent woman staring into the distance. It wasn¡¯t the most obvious thing in the world, but the magicked branding on the side of her face confirmed her identity. She was never a victim of the brandings. She was the source.

    Jonathan approached the ghost. She did not respond. So he stopped in his tracks, giving the grieving ghost a respectful berth.

    ¡°Fate has not been kind to you,¡± Jonathan began. ¡°You were destined to be alone, separated from everyone you love between the realm of life and death.¡±

    The ghost remained motionless.

    ¡°After Nicholaum¡¯s death, you chased your husband through his reincarnations, didn¡¯t you? But you were only condemned to see him fall in love with other women, no matter how many times you killed them. In hunting them down relentlessly, you became known as the Ghost Of Glasgow.¡±

    Mylis Wright was staring straight at him now.

    ¡°Of course, no one would¡¯ve guessed why you changed your killing methods. Not unless they noticed when you changed them,¡± Jonathan said. ¡°Sixty years ago, you consulted Baba Yaga. Things didn¡¯t go well and you left in a fury. But it didn¡¯t stop there, did it? Her disciple, Natasha, came looking for revenge. Not only did she succeed in finding you, she actually managed to kill you.¡±

    ¡°And with such a heavy grudge in your soul, you remained in this world as a ghost to continue haunting your husband and taking away the souls of his new lovers,¡± he continued. ¡°But how to account for Natasha¡¯s capture by the local sheriff? My guess is that your sister came to your rescue, albeit too late. Unfortunately, the humans arrived before she could strike the finishing blow and they took her away.¡±

    ¡°Morevia¡­¡± Mylis¡¯ voice was barely audible over the sea breeze.

    ¡°To keep Natasha from spilling the truth, Morevia hypnotised her every day to wipe her mind, eventually driving her into insanity. I saw that memory with my own eyes.¡± Jonathan ignored her. ¡°That was, of course, until she met the lich, who kept her trapped in his house. The timing adds up perfectly.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why the murders stopped, am I right? No matter how obsessed you were, you were unwilling to leave your sister¡¯s side. And so was she. That¡¯s why she buried your body in the backyard to keep your spirit close by. It worked for sixty years, until you saw me when I touched your corpse. And so despite all your sister had done for you, you became the Ghost Of Glasgow yet again.¡±

    Mylis sank to her knees.

    ¡°When Morevia found out that I had come into contact with Natasha, she killed her to draw attention to her instead,¡± Jonathan said. ¡°When I was coming close to finding the truth, she took the fall for you. She loves you more than anything, but all you could think of was your deceased husband, Nicholaum. These are the crimes I lay at your feet. Do you confess?¡±

    ¡°You are completely correct, except for one thing. I am not after you anymore.¡±

    Jonathan watched the ghost carefully.

    ¡°Let my sister go, or the love of your life dies.¡±

    Anya¡¯s body swayed dangerously with the intensifying wind. Mylis kept her cold gaze on the inspector, but Jonathan knew full well that all she needed was a single move to snap the rope and drop Anya onto the rocks below.

    Mylis sobbed quietly, although no tears spilt from her ghostly eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve accepted my fate. The heavens have made you immortal, never to cross over into the realm of the dead. I have accepted that my husband will never be with me again. All I ask is for my sister to go free.¡±

    ¡°And then what happens? You continue wandering the earth as an apparition forever?¡± Jonathan¡¯s lips moved, almost on their own. ¡°You must need move on, Mylis.¡±

    He scarcely had time to wonder what possessed him to speak like that when the ground slammed into his face. Jonathan spat out the soil before his back crashed into a tree and split it in half. The upper half fell onto him, pinning him on the ground.

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand! You¡¯ll never understand how it feels!¡± The Ghost Of Glasgow appeared in front of him, screaming in his face. ¡°I loved him! We were in love until they tore us apart! I¡­ I didn¡¯t even get to say my farewells¡­¡±

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    Jonathan struggled for a brief moment, before noticing the tombstone beside him. Realisation struck him as Mylis knelt before her husband¡¯s empty grave.

    ¡°The afterlife isn¡¯t worth going to without you,¡± she sobbed again. ¡°I¡¯ll stay on Earth for all of eternity to be with you, my love.¡±

    Jonathan stretched his fingers, surreptitiously grabbing a fistful of soil from the grave. There was only one person who could help the ghost now. He racked his brain, trying to recall the spell he read about, but to no avail. Damn it, why was he never the studious type?

    ¡°Mylis!¡±

    Both Jonathan and the ghost turned back to the familiar voice. His mouth hung open in surprise as Morevia Wright rushed to her sister. Angus followed close behind.

    ¡°S-sister, they let you go?¡± Mylis cried out as the sisters reunited tearfully.

    The tree rolled off his body with a thud. Jonathan stood up nonchalantly, brushing off the small twigs clinging to his shirt. The fae stood beside him as well, looking grimly at the Wright sisters.

    ¡°You sure this is the right thing to do?¡± Jonathan muttered to him.

    Angus nodded. ¡°I found out everything after Morevia¡¯s confession. We paranormal creatures want nothing more than to be free to live on our own. Our laws are a lot less strict than the human world. As a mere member of the Immortal Association, I see no need to lock up Morevia Wright as long as all concerned parties agree with that decision.¡±

    ¡°Concerned¡­ parties?¡± the inspector asked. His question was answered quickly by the small shadow stepping into the light.

    ¡°Forgiveness is a difficult thing to accept, and yet it is something all of us sorely need,¡± Baba Yaga said. ¡°I mourn the death of my disciple, but only forgiveness will set our souls free. Morevia Wright only killed her out of love for her own sister. It is a mistake, yes. But not an unforgivable one.¡±

    ¡°You decided to come back to the mortal world?¡± Jonathan asked incredulously. ¡°How? Why?¡±

    ¡°Our friend here is many things, persuasive most of all.¡± The old witch cracked a terrifying-looking but warm smile. ¡°And besides, it¡¯s high time I stop hiding from my mistakes and face the light. Your soulmate taught me that, Stonekeeper. Now, go on and save her.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t¡­¡± Jonathan clenched his fist, feeling the prick of the soil against his palm. ¡°I know only her husband can talk her down from this, but I forgot the spell to bring his memories out from my soul.¡±

    Baba Yaga gave him what he could only assume was a smirk, as white magic danced around her fingers. Jonathan gave her a firm nod of understanding. He clutched the soil tightly, closing his eyes.

    And when he opened them again, it was no longer Jonathan Warner who walked up to the Ghost Of Glasgow.

    ¡°Tis I, my love.¡± A distinct old Scottish accent emanated from Jonathan¡¯s mouth, catching Mylis¡¯ attention immediately.

    The ghost gasped, reaching for his face.

    ¡°Do not despair, my dearest.¡± Nicholaum smiled warmly. ¡°God has been merciful to us, for he has granted us our wish to meet in another life.¡±

    ¡°Merciful?¡± Mylis said. ¡°He separated us! I was in pain for seven hundred years! There is nothing merciful about that!¡±

    ¡°And yet here we are, reunited once more.¡± The man kissed her gently on her forehead. ¡°I am sorry, my love. I am sorry to have left you to suffer this world for so long by yourself.¡±

    The ghost threw her arms around him, bawling loudly this time. Nicholaum patted her gently.

    ¡°For better and for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish always. As a sanctuary of warmth and peace, I pledge my love, devotion, faith and honour as I join my life to yours¡­¡±

    There was a moment of silence as Nicholaum waited patiently for his wife to finish the sentence.

    ¡°...Till death do us part,¡± Mylis whispered.

    ¡°Till death do us part.¡± Nicholaum¡¯s voice floated along with the wind. ¡°Let go, my dearest. You have suffered long enough. It¡¯s time you find your peace, as I have.¡±

    Jonathan watched from behind Nicholaum¡¯s eyes as the Ghost Of Glasgow finally broke into a smile. Silver shimmered in the wind as Mylis Wright dispersed into billions of tiny light pockets, fading into the yellow moonlight and soaring away.

    A wave of exhaustion hit him without warning, and he fell to his knees as Nicholaum retreated into the recesses of his soul once more.

    ¡°Anya!¡± His legs carried him to his own lover without thinking. Jonathan fell to his knees, clutching her hand as Anya¡¯s body began to stir.

    ¡°W-What happened?¡± Anya groaned, rubbing her eyes as though she had merely woken up from a short nap. ¡°Jonathan! Are you alright? The Ghost of Glasgow attacked us! She-¡±

    ¡°She is no more.¡± A light chuckle of relief escaped Jonathan¡¯s lips. Anya looked around in confusion, before throwing her hands up.

    ¡°Bugger, can¡¯t believe I missed all the action¡­¡± she whined.

    ¡°Thank you, Jonathan Warner and Anya Sechina.¡± Baba Yaga walked up to them. ¡°If it were not for the both of you, I would have never given myself the chance to make amends for what I could not do for Mylis Wright. The stones have chosen their keeper well. Blessings be on both of you.¡±

    The witch waved her hands elegantly, sprinkling some sort of magic dust on the both of them before stepping into an invisible door.

    Jonathan cast his gaze to Morevia Wright, who was now kneeling at the edge of the cliff.

    ¡°Since Baba Yaga has forgiven you for the murder of Natasha, I see no reason to detain you any further,¡± Angus stated. ¡°You are free to go.¡±

    The vampire turned around. Although tears still stained her face, relief was painted all over it. She nodded stoically at them before transforming into a bat and flying towards the moon. Gentle wind brushed by Jonathan¡¯s ears. He could¡¯ve sworn he heard a ¡®Thank you¡¯, but he was too tired to figure it out.

    He hugged Anya tightly again. She was safe with him now, and that¡¯s all that mattered.

 Chapter 18: The Trail Never Ends

    One year later¡­

    ¡°For the love of god, we¡¯re on vacation,¡± Jonathan groaned. ¡°Hell, it¡¯s our honeymoon. What are we even doing here, Anya?¡±

    His wife hacked away the last of the huge leaves, revealing an isolated path leading up to a well-camouflaged bunker of sorts. Anya turned back with a huge grin plastered on her face, despite the soil and sweat clinging onto her hair.

    ¡°I knew I could count on Lucy¡¯s intel. There really is something here.¡± She was barely suppressing her excitement. ¡°Sorry I didn¡¯t tell you about it earlier. I wanted it to be a surprise.¡±

    Jonathan exhaled loudly. Not like he didn¡¯t enjoy spending time with Anya, but he was looking forward to a nice evening walk around the city with her instead of a brutal hike through some godforsaken path.

    A peck on his cheeks brought his attention back to the present.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be mad at me, okay?¡± Anya looked up at him with doe eyes. ¡°I was planning on enjoying our break together, but when Lucy told me about this group¡­ I couldn¡¯t resist¡­¡±

    The cicadas chirped loudly.

    ¡°I¡¯m not mad, silly.¡± Jonathan hugged her tightly. ¡°I¡¯m still spending time with you, after all. I suppose this can be considered our working vacation.¡±

    ¡°R-Really?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll cherish every moment with you. Doesn¡¯t matter whether we¡¯re working or not.¡±

    Anya blushed furiously, and Jonathan took the chance to give her a gentle kiss on her forehead. She released a small squeal before embracing him tightly like a love-smitten schoolgirl.

    Jonathan fished out his phone.

    ¡°Lucy-¡±

    -Was all he had to say before the vampire¡¯s hearty laughter blared from his phone speakers.

    ¡°I take it you guys are already in China. Have you found the base?¡±

    ¡°Yes. And thank you very much, by the way,¡± Jonathan replied sarcastically. ¡°For telling Anya about your findings and not your best friend. Aren¡¯t you on vacation too, anyway? Wanna come along with us? We¡¯ll just wait here in the jungle feeding the mosquitoes. No biggie.¡±

    ¡°What can I say? She has a very good work ethic. And no, thanks. I¡¯m plenty comfortable here on the Hawaiian beach-¡±

    Jonathan could hear her slurping on some kind of iced drink.

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    ¡°-I have to say, this ¡®bikini¡¯ fashion trend is very refreshing. I can¡¯t believe there¡¯s a place I can just walk around in my knickers. I feel so free here; I¡¯ll have to do this more often. Oh, I have to go; a hunk¡¯s approaching me. Have fun, both of you.¡±

    The phone clicked.

    ¡°She¡¯s certainly enjoying herself¡­¡± Anya commented.

    ¡°At least we confirmed that her intel¡¯s legit.¡± Jonathan shrugged. ¡°Come, let¡¯s check that bunker out.¡±

    The electronic lock fizzled out and cowered easily under the intimidation of Jonathan¡¯s electricity, revealing a small but looming room of some sort. He looked at the crates littering the room; every single one of them was marked with red symbols that resembled some sort of flower.

    ¡°By the by, what happened to Cornelia after her brain was returned to her body?¡± Anya¡¯s voice echoed over to him while she rifled through a stack of loose documentation.

    ¡°Did that flower logo remind you of her?¡± Jonathan commented absentmindedly. ¡°Well, she¡¯s no longer as obsessed about breeding anymore since the threat is gone. Angus gave her a protected plot of land to grow on, so she¡¯s happy about it. That¡¯s all I know.¡±

    ¡°Huh¡­¡± Anya muttered to herself, clearly more interested in the files she was now flipping through. Jonathan continued the investigation on his end as well.

    The crates contained nothing else but racks of bottles. He picked up a bottle, examining it intently. Red-coloured electricity danced within, and the bottle looked like it was made of some kind of special transparent material. Chinese characters were labelled on the bottle as well, except for only three English words Jonathan could make out.

    ¡°Red Clover Corps¡­¡± he breathed. ¡°What the hell is that?¡±

    ¡°Jon? Come here for a bit.¡±

    Jonathan scooted over to his partner. Anya flipped through a tablet, showing him the dissection of a few creatures. Anger and disgust flushed his spine. He recognised some of the monster species. Centaurs, Minotaurs, Werewolves, Yetis¡­ Whatever this ¡®Red Clover Corps¡¯ was, it had spared no effort capturing and experimenting on these paranormal creatures.

    ¡°Despicable¡­¡± Anya muttered behind gritted teeth. ¡°We need to call this in.¡±

    ¡°No, we need to continue investigating in private.¡± Jonathan grabbed her hand before she could call Angus. ¡°Get more concrete evidence of their deeds; save the rest of these creatures.¡±

    ¡°Way ahead of you,¡± Anya said, waving a thumb drive. ¡°These idiots saved all their files locally. We can check them out once we¡¯re out of here. But there was something a little concerning.¡±

    A flurry of mechanical keys clicking permeated the eerie silence as Anya accessed their project database. Jonathan tilted his head at the screen.

    ¡°Project¡­ Mutation Wave?¡± he mumbled to himself, trying to make sense of the diagram on the screen emitting some kind of rippling wave. ¡°PSI enhancement¡­ Evolved humans.¡±

    ¡°Those bastards were experimenting on supernatural creatures to induce some form of mutation in humans,¡± Anya said. ¡°And it looks like they¡¯re close to succeeding too.¡±

    Anya switched off the screen as the duo walked out of the bunker.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to need more resources to help us out,¡± Jonathan stated grimly. ¡°I¡¯ll show Angus what we¡¯ve discovered and see what he says. I won¡¯t let these people hurt the supernatural world any further.¡±

    Anya squinted her eyes before tiptoeing to give him a deep kiss on his lips. ¡°You sounded so hot, Jon.¡±

    Jonathan simply grinned in response as he continued trudging out of the forest. Bad things happen in the world despite humanity¡¯s best efforts. Some people fear every single one of them. Some learn to get used to them. Some choose to fight as though it is their first time every time. Him?

    He was the Immortal Stonekeeper, and he welcomed them.

    END