《Spark of Chaos》


 Chapter 1

    I wanted to pace, to march up and down before the heavy door with the frosted glass pane-a symbol brought to life. It was the final barrier standing between me and my last chance of a new life.


    Breathe.


    No, that didn¡¯t help. I was breathing, but still nervous.


    Great.


    I was starting to very much fear that my deodorant had given up some time around noon as I stalked through the city of York in the burning heat of the summer sun, hunting for those all too few businesses that might possibly hire me.


    So far it had been a bust.


    I fanned my face and pulled at the collar of my blouse, wondering if I should loosen the top button, though that might give the guy about to interview me the wrong impression.


    Sweat ran down my back and I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the glass pane of the window opposite the door I waited beside. My hair, that had started in such a neat, tight bun, was somewhat awry with dirty blonde strands, sticking to the sweat damp skin of my face.


    My makeup, what little of it I had applied, was beyond saving even if I did have the time to run to the ladies to fix it.


    A rumble sounded from inside the office, the plastic wheels of an office chair pushed over wooden floorboards as its occupant rose from behind his desk. The soft pad of feet across those bare boards as he crossed the office and then, there, his large, shadowed form behind the frosted glass set into the door.


    I swallowed back my nerves.


    This was my last chance. I had few options left. Every other business in the city was either not hiring, or perhaps just not hiring me. I could feel the quiet hunger growing daily and without a job, I would be forced to feed it in a way that would bring notice.


    I couldn¡¯t risk that.


    ¡°Emma Grey?¡±


    The speaker towered over me as I stood up. His shoulders so broad that he filled the doorway to the office, and his face obscured by a shaggy beard of dark brown hair. A match for the unruly mop on his head.


    He stepped back and waved me in, brow furrowing as he wrinkled his nose, which only caused an increase in perspiration as I realised, he was smelling me.


    Just great.


    I pressed my arms against my sides and shuffled past him into the office. The air inside was thick and clammy. The only sound coming from the whirr of the fan on the desk that was trying its hardest to cool the hot air with little effect.


    The large man stepped past me, moving slowly as though afraid a quick movement might send me hurtling across the cramped office space. There was a sour scent to him as though he¡¯d slept in his clothes, an odour that matched that of his office and I wondered if he had actually slept in the leather office chair behind the wide desk.


    He gestured for me to take the wooden backed seat opposite him, and I settled into it, crossing my legs and holding my purse on my lap as I chewed my lower lip. He huffed softly as he settled into his chair and folded his hands across his flat stomach as he peered at me with deep brown eyes the colour of autumn leaves.


    ¡°I-I have a CV,¡± I stammered, opening my purse and pulling out a wrinkled sheath of papers that had been folded in half, twice. ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s a bit-¡°


    He waved away my apology and held out his hand. I passed him the only copy of my CV that I had left and waited as his eyes roamed the page, taking in every detail.


    As he read, I took a moment to scrutinise his office. It was not an impressive space.


    A second desk was pressed up against the wall to the right of the door I¡¯d entered, its dark, walnut surfaced covered with stacks of folders that I was sure were due for filing in the rank of metal cabinets that lined the righthand wall.


    On the opposite side of the room were bookshelves loaded with books, many of them stacked haphazardly and scattered amongst them strange figurines and ornaments. Many of those were obvious charms and wards, though against what I could only guess.


    On the wall above the door, was a clock that had long since stopped working.


    Dust covered everything.


    Except the man¡¯s desk, which held a telephone, a stack of brown cardboard folders, a leatherbound ledger, a copy of the days newspaper ¨C not one of those awful tabloids thankfully ¨C and a single coffee cup that bore the deep, dark stains of frequent use, and infrequent washing.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    ¡°Okay.¡± His voice was gruff, and low. Each word accompanied by a deep rumbling from deep in his chest. ¡°You¡¯re wanting a job.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t a question.


    He discarded my CV casually, letting it lie amongst those files on his desk, and he folded his hands as he looked me over.


    ¡°Well, Mr. Grimshaw¡­¡±


    ¡°Grim,¡± he said, interrupting. ¡°Or Jack, either¡¯s fine.¡±


    ¡°Jack,¡± I said, smiling nervously. I swallowed hard. This was my last chance. ¡°I need a job, and¡­¡±


    ¡°Private school.¡± His eye¡¯s dropped to my CV. ¡°College, then University. Not a top university, but a decent one down south. Well off family, I guess.¡±


    I could only shrug. It wasn¡¯t exactly something I wanted to talk about.


    His gaze swept my body, and I stiffened, almost feeling an invasive touch as he took in everything about me in that look. His expression didn¡¯t change, and I suspected he found nothing to be impressed about.


    A young woman, slim though not exactly athletic. Well dressed, soft spoken, and sweating like a whore in church.


    I couldn¡¯t exactly blame him.


    ¡°Look,¡± I began but he cut me off again, and I could barely stop myself from rolling my eyes.


    ¡°You studied Economics.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I-¡°


    ¡°Looking to join the family business, was you?¡±


    I unclenched my jaw and forced my lips into a polite smile. It wasn¡¯t going well and aside from his infuriating need to interrupt me, he simply sounded bored. Entirely uninterested.


    I had to change that.


    ¡°My family and I have parted ways.¡±


    That piqued his interest. He leant forward in his chair, one bushy eyebrow rising in query. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that an impertinent question?¡±


    ¡°Probably.¡± He lifted large shoulders in a shrug. His arms were almost as wide around as my waist! ¡°Answer anyway.¡±


    My hands tightened into fists, and I pressed them down against my legs, fighting the urge to snap back a reply. I breathed out, and drew a deep breath, calming myself.


    ¡°Father was¡­ wild, in his youth. He left the family for a few years and came back with me. His family didn¡¯t approve and never let me forget that.¡± I couldn¡¯t help the anger in my tone, and I forced another deep breath before I continued. ¡°He recently passed, and with him went my place in that family.¡±


    ¡°So, they kicked you out.¡± His face darkened at that, though I suspected it was less to do with my own family strife and more, something personal to him. ¡°Sound like a bunch of twats.¡±


    ¡°Quite.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve no need for an office manager.¡± He grunted. ¡°Nor a receptionist.¡±


    ¡°Good. I¡¯ve no desire of being either.¡±


    ¡°What then?¡±


    I sucked in another deep breath of hot air and held my hands still against my lap as I desperately willed the fan to blow some of the turgid air in my direction.


    ¡°To be frank, I have only a limited idea of what you do, but I need a job, and I am willing to do anything.¡± Within reason, of course. ¡°You¡¯re a private investigator. Surely you have need for help doing¡­¡± I waved a hand, gesturing vaguely. ¡°Whatever it is that entails.¡±


    His laughter was a low rumble, almost a growl and the hairs stood taut on the back of my neck at the sound. A primal reaction, like that of prey when confronted by a predator.


    My tongue darted out, wetting too dry lips, and I tasted the lipstick I wore. Jake shook his shaggy head as he pulled open a drawer and pulled out a bottle. He poured a generous measure into his coffee-stained mug and took a moment to screw the cap back on the bottle as he studied me.


    ¡°Been a long week,¡± he said, nodding down at his cup. ¡°Before you think I¡¯m some sort of clich¨¦.¡±


    ¡°Perish the thought,¡± I said, though I¡¯d been thinking exactly that.


    He lifted the mug and took a long swallow before wiping his mouth and beard with the back of his hand. He belched and tapped his chest with a large hand as he mumbled an apology, and I realised he¡¯d likely been drinking for some time.


    ¡°Happens I could use some help,¡± he said, grinning sourly. ¡°There¡¯s some that¡¯ll talk to a lass easier than they will me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a people person,¡± I lied. ¡°I can do that.¡±


    He threw back the rest of the bourbon and reached for the bottle. Another grunt as he considered me, his eyes fixing on mine.


    ¡°Not sure that¡¯s true.¡±


    There wasn¡¯t much I could say to that.


    ¡°I do work for the covens, that a problem?¡±


    Yes.


    ¡°No.¡±


    He flashed straight white teeth and filled his mug with the remains of the brown liquid in the bottle.


    ¡°I can smell your lies, lass,¡± he said. ¡°Even beneath that reek of death that covers you.¡±


    Shit!


    He waved a hand as I opened my mouth to give panicked reply, and my shoulders slumped. He¡¯d been my last chance, and I¡¯d blown it as soon as he¡¯d opened the door.


    ¡°Can give you a ¡ê120 per week,¡± he said, and I blinked in surprise. ¡°You¡¯ll do all the shit I don¡¯t want to do for the bread-and-butter jobs; Filing, interviews, research and so on.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Not sure if you¡¯ll be a help or a hindrance with the supernatural community here, but I can make it work, I reckon.¡±


    I was stunned to silence. I didn¡¯t know what to say. It would barely pay my bills, but since my few savings were almost gone and I had a desperate need to keep a roof over my head and food in my belly, I was willing to take anything.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    A little voice in the back of my mind was screaming at me and calling me seven kinds of fool for asking, but I had to know.


    Grim gave a knowing smile and tapped his nose with one thick finger. ¡°Call it good timing if that makes you feel better. That¡¯s all I¡¯ll say. You want the job or not?¡±


    I held out my open hand across the desk. He barely hesitated before he engulfed it in his own, his grip firm and strong, yet almost gentle as though he were afraid of crushing my hand.


    ¡°When can I start?¡±


    ¡°Now.¡± He lifted his chin towards the other desk loaded with files. ¡°Sort all that out.¡±


    I nodded eagerly and rose from the chair. I hesitated a moment as I turned away and I looked back over my shoulder at him.


    ¡°You know what I am?¡±


    ¡°Aye, lass.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re okay with it?¡±


    I held my breath as I waited for his answer. I shouldn¡¯t have asked. It could only bring me more pain. As much as it had through my whole life. Mum had been the only shield to the hate and disgust, and with her gone, I wasn¡¯t sure how much of it I could take.


    Grim flashed his teeth again as he leaned forward, placing one hand flat on the desk. Those deep brown eyes of his lightened, becoming the orange of sunset and then a deep amber that shone forth, his face falling into shadow.


    My cheeks burned at the heat that radiated from his body, the sour smell of an unwashed body lost beneath the animal musk of a beast. The hairs on my neck stood on end, and I trembled as I stared into that golden gaze.


    The nails on his hand lengthened and curled, darkening as they became claws that dug deep gouges in the wood of his desk and that low rumbling growl sounded form deep within his chest, turning my knees to jelly as I let out a gasp of very real fear.


    ¡°I reckon I¡¯ll be safe,¡± he growled.

 Chapter 2

    Tang Hall was one of the less desirable areas of the city, full of council estates and working-class people feeling the impact of Thatcher¡¯s legacy through the past decade and doing little better under John Major.


    The area was suffering from unemployment and low wages, along with cuts to benefits and government funding. The people abandoned and forgotten.


    A perfect place to hide.


    There was a group of feral kids by the converted flats, one kicked a ball against the wall while another tossed a crisp packet into the gutter. I ignored their jeers and unlocked the door, slipping inside before they could start something.


    I looked back as I closed the door and caught the flash of crimson in the eyes of the crisp eater, and paused, forcing back my own automatic response.


    The last thing I needed was to be seen and worse, recognised for what I was. Not without the protection of a powerful family that had sheltered me for so many years.


    My flat was on the top floor, and I climbed the bare wooden stairs wearily. It had been a long day of rejection, only saved at the end. Which had then led to several hours of tedious work filing which left me covered in dust that stuck to my clothes and aching feet from a day of walking around in heels which I kicked off as soon as I was through my door.


    The flat wasn¡¯t much to look at. Painted walls and varnished floorboards with a worn rug that had been put in by the landlord. That was accompanied by equally aged and worn furnishings that just six months ago I would have laughed at the idea of having.


    What the hell had happened to my life?


    A question I didn¡¯t really know that answer to. Not really. One minute I had been the least welcomed family member, attending university and readying for a job at my father¡¯s company, and the next¡­ well, everything had come to an end.


    Those family members who had been distant but polite had descended like vultures to pick apart the remains of my father¡¯s life. His accounts emptied, his properties and businesses folded into the family holdings and everything other than what I had with me at Uni was taken.


    Then they had turned their attentions on me.


    A shiver ran through me at the memory, and I slumped onto the sofa and stared at the empty fireplace. Unwelcome memories spinning in my mind as I sought to quiet the feelings of loss and betrayal that came with them.


    I was brought out of them by a knock on the door and I reached into my purse for the small knife I kept there before I padded over on bare feet to peer through the peephole. A sigh escaped me, and I slipped the knife into the back of my skirt before I pulled open the door.


    ¡°Hey, neighbour,¡± she said brightly, leaning against the doorframe. Her curves were unapologetically on display in a cropped white top, and her smile was so genuine it set my teeth on edge.


    She was young, similar in age to me, with raven black hair that hung in thick curls past her shoulders, shining in the early evening light. Her eyes were hazel and stared into mine without that flash of colour to announce she wasn¡¯t human.


    ¡°Hi?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Tilly.¡± She hooked a thumb at the door opposite my own. ¡°From across the hall.¡±


    ¡°Okay, do you need something?¡±


    Her face fell and she looked uncertain for a moment, glancing back at her door as if reconsidering her decision to come knock on mine.


    ¡°Ah¡­ there¡¯s a band at the pub later, and I thought you might want to come.¡±


    After paying rent and buying a few groceries, along with petrol for my car, I had about twenty pound left to my name. Hardly enough to waste on beer. At least that is what the rational part of my head was telling me.


    But, then again, I¡¯d just gained employment and had a roof over my head and enough groceries in to feed me until payday. I was young and very much in need of some fun.


    ¡°Sure,¡± I said. ¡°What type of music is it?¡±


    ¡°Does it matter?¡±


    ¡°I guess not. Let me get changed and¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay, I can wait.¡±


    There was a pause that was almost uncomfortable, and I stepped back, opening the door wider and waving her in. ¡°Okay, let me just grab a shower and a change of clothes.¡±


    ¡°No worries.¡± She wrinkled her nose. ¡°Mind if I open the window?¡±


    She didn¡¯t wait for a response, and I exhaled a soft sigh and closed the door while she opened the window to let some air in. I left her to it and headed for my bedroom.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    I lingered under the hot water, washing away the day¡¯s grime before towelling off. I dressed quickly in faded blue jeans and a plain white top, cut high enough that it hinted at rather than exposed what little cleavage I had.


    A light application of makeup and then I brushed my hair, letting it hang loose around my shoulders. A dab of perfume at wrists and behind my ears, and I was done. There was no jewellery other than the thin gold chain and pendant that had been the last present I¡¯d received from my father.


    Tilly was seated on the sofa leafing through the pages of one of the books that were all that remained of my once extensive collection. She looked up as I entered, watching me as I pulled on the low-heeled ankle boots.


    ¡°Ready?¡± she asked, smiling.


    ¡°As I¡¯ll ever be.¡±


    It was a short walk to the local pub, and I grimaced as I followed her through the doors. The place was exactly as I would have expected it to be. The furniture was decades old and in much need of repair, while the polished wooden bar was scratched and gouged.


    The walls were stained, and smoke filled the air, while the patrons clustered in groups, laughing and talking. Some wore work clothes, having stopped in for a pint after work, while others were dressed in casual but clean clothing and were clearly out for the night. In the corner, gathered around the pool table, were the young men and women in their going out clothes, ready to head into town after a few drinks at the local.


    There was no sign of a band.


    ¡°What¡¯re you drinking?¡± Tilly asked, elbowing her way through the crowd to the bar. She had to almost shout to be heard.


    ¡°JD¡¯s and coke.¡±


    We were receiving a lot of attention, and I wasn¡¯t sure if that was due to Tilly¡¯s ample attributes or my novelty of being new. Either way, I had to fight the urge to hunch my shoulders and shy away from it.


    When she returned with drinks, we moved through the crowded bar and out through the back door to the beer garden. It was almost as busy as the inside had been but there were a few tables free, and we found one in the corner with a little bit of shade and settled in.


    ¡°Band starts after eight,¡± Tilly said, sipping her vodka.


    ¡°Sounds good.¡±


    It actually did. Once I was outside, away from the scrutiny of the crowd, I could allow myself to relax a little bit and enjoy a Friday night drink with someone who could be a friend. One of the first I would have in my new life.


    One who wasn¡¯t aware of what I was.


    Who wasn¡¯t scared of me.


    I sipped my drink and swallowed past the lump in my throat.


    ¡°Where you from?¡±


    I almost choked on my drink!


    Sure, I should have expected the question, but it still took me by surprise.


    ¡°London,¡± I said, which was close enough to the truth.


    ¡°You don¡¯t sound like a southerner.¡± She paused. ¡°Or a northerner. You sound posh.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, I guess.¡±


    She giggled and eyed the guy who made a show of checking her out as he walked past our table. Not an easy task considering we were in the corner and away from pub doorway.


    ¡°You working?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve just found employment.¡± I couldn¡¯t help my smile. Things had been looking rather bleak. ¡°Working for a private detective of all things.¡±


    A faint line marred her brow as she narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice, leaning in. ¡°Keep that to yourself,¡± she said, looking around. ¡°Folk round her will just hear the ¡®detective¡¯ bit and think you¡¯re Old Bill.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± I assured her, raising my eyebrows in surprise. ¡°I can promise you that.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, just be careful who you tell that to.¡±


    Great, another secret to keep from people. Just what I needed.


    ¡°How about you?¡± I asked, changing the subject.


    ¡°I work at a nursing home,¡± she said shrugging. ¡°It¡¯s alright. The old dears are lovely but the pay¡¯s shit.¡±


    The talk turned to generalities, and I let myself relax a little being back onto safer subjects. Tilly was happy to talk about her day-to-day life, and she spoke at length about the York nightlife. In short time, we were on our second drink and laughing together as she recounted how and why her last relationship had ended.


    For a short time, I actually felt normal. Just like any other girl, sitting with a friend, in a warm beer garden, enjoying a drink. Doing the sort of thing that girls up and down the country were doing.


    Not hiding from the people who were supposed to be family.


    My drink suddenly tasted bitter at that thought and I silently cursed myself for spoiling my own good mood.


    I looked away from Tilly, making a show of scanning the crowd as I hid the shimmer in my eyes.


    ¡°Anyone you fancy?¡± Tilly asked, giggling, and I shrugged. I¡¯d not really been thinking about the guys. ¡°He¡¯s hot. Been watching you all night.¡±


    I glanced back at her to see who she was looking towards and followed her gaze. There was a man, mid-twenties with the build of someone who worked a trade. His muscles were not gym made, I was sure of that, and he had the square jawed face that many would consider handsome.


    He leaned casually against a lamp post, sipping his pint as his friends talked and laughed around him, but his gaze never wavered from me.


    As soon as I met his eyes, they flashed violet, the colour sharp and unnatural; gone in an instant. It was a purposeful act to show who and what he was and expecting the same in return. My response was instinctive and automatic, and it happened so quickly that I couldn¡¯t stop it.


    I hurriedly dropped my gaze praying to a god I didn¡¯t believe in that he didn¡¯t see.


    With an indrawn breath I forced my eyes to return to their normal pale blue before I looked up again, holding myself rigidly under control.


    The man was gone.


    ¡°You, okay?¡± Tilly asked, leaning in as I turned back to her. ¡°Christ! You¡¯re pale.¡±


    My hand trembled as I lifted my glass and swallowed it back. Another look around but there was no sign of the guy.


    I¡¯d been quick! Surely, he hadn¡¯t seen. He couldn¡¯t know.


    My eyes brimmed and I pushed myself up from the table as a concerned Tilly rose with me. ¡°I need to go,¡± I said.


    ¡°I¡¯ll come with you.¡±


    ¡°No!¡±


    She recoiled from me and several of the nearby people turned around at the shrill sound of my raised voice. I forced a smile of apology and shook my head.


    ¡°Sorry, not used to drinking. I¡¯ll be fine. Just need a bit of space.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t leave you alone.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± I insisted. ¡°We live a couple of streets away. I¡¯ll just head home, and the walk will do me good.¡±


    She was unsure but she didn¡¯t want to leave. The band would soon be starting, and it was still light and wouldn¡¯t be dark until well after nine. There was no reason for her to think there would be any danger for me.


    Even in the shitty area we lived.


    Tilly gave in and I left with a weak smile. Any friendship we might have been building was likely lost but that was the last thing on my mind as I pushed through the crowd inside the pub. I kept my head turning, looking for the guy but there was no sign of him, and I slipped out through the front door, unable to shake the feeling that I¡¯d been seen.


    Worse.


    That I¡¯d been recognised.

 Chapter 3

    He caught up to me as I was crossing the tree lined common, and I spun to face him, hands raised defensively.


    With a grin, he hopped back out of reach and once again his eyes flashed with the vividly unnatural violet. But I was ready, and I kept myself in control, forcing aside the change.


    ¡°Not polite,¡± he murmured coyly, smiling at me.


    I grunted in reply, scanning the common to make sure we were alone. An all too familiar pressure rose in my chest-that urge that came when fear threatened to overwhelm me.


    The one that made me dangerous.


    My breathing grew shallow, and I was acutely conscious of the rise and fall of my chest as my heartbeat pounded in my ears. My mouth filled with saliva, reading itself for what was to come. Disgusted, I swallowed it down.


    ¡°What do you want, half-breed?¡±


    There was no hiding the anger in my tone. I¡¯d been discovered. Just when things were going so well.


    ¡°Peace,¡± he said, holding up his hands, palms out, unfazed by my choice of words. ¡°I¡¯m curious, is all.¡±


    ¡°Be curious elsewhere, I¡¯ve nothing for you.¡±


    I took a step back and he leaned forward, eyes gleaming with hunger, almost desire.


    ¡°What are you?¡±


    I didn¡¯t answer. If he didn¡¯t already know, then why the hell would I give him a clue?


    He began to move, circling around me, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes intent as he scrutinized me, searching for an answer to his question as though he could determine the answer if he just looked hard enough.


    Idiot.


    ¡°I¡¯ve met my share of witches, sorcerers and psychics,¡± he said, voice soft, almost gentle as though he were afraid, he would scare me away. ¡°Their eyes shine golden, lit by the magic they hold.¡±


    ¡°Not elemental,¡± he continued, tapping his chin thoughtfully. ¡°I¡¯ve not met one, but I know their colours. Undead too, those are easy to recognise.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your point?¡± I snapped, fear giving way to anger as he circled me, studying me like I was some specimen.


    ¡°Shapeshifters eyes are amber, while creatures of the lower planes are a deep purple.¡± He flashed a grin, showing teeth as gestured to himself. ¡°Of course, I¡¯d know that.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes,¡± I said, rolling my eyes with a sigh of exasperation. ¡°You know the most common races. What does it matter?¡±


    He stopped his pacing and leaned in eagerly, his grin turning wolfish, his eyes hungry.


    ¡°Because I¡¯ve never seen eyes turn black,¡± he murmured, his voice dripping with hunger.


    Shit.


    He¡¯d seen.


    It was always the same with people like him-they always talked. It wouldn¡¯t be long before word got back, and then they would come for me.


    I could run.


    Or I could put an end to his questions permanently.


    In the distance the low rumble of the band had begun, loud enough that I could almost make out the words. It was still light out and there were people walking along the road, heading to and from the common with dogs on leashes.


    Cars sped past, people heading home or out on their Friday night outings. Taxis with people heading into the city centre to the pubs and clubs there.


    Witnesses.


    Too many to count.


    ¡°Not here,¡± I said, my voice a whisper, laced with defeat as I came to a decision. I wasn¡¯t ready to run. Not yet. Not when I was just starting to rebuild my life.


    ¡°Then where?¡± he asked, cocking one brow as the corner of his mouth lifted, wolfish grin becoming a leer as he looked at me with a different kind of hunger. ¡°I¡¯m not far.¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± I said, shoulders slumping, the very picture of defeat. ¡°Let¡¯s go to your place.¡±


    Better than making a mess in my flat anyway.


    He half-turned, gesturing with one hand for me to walk along beside him. I did so in silence, watching him from the corner of my eye as I tried to determine what he was.


    Violet eyes meant Hybrid. Most likely Half-Demon. Born of human women and sired by demon possessed humans. There were some of the most common of the supernatural race and caused the vast majority of the problems for our community.


    It was in their making, the demonic energy that left them with a power of their own, a shadow of the power of their sire, but leaving them more than human. With that power came a natural leaning towards chaos and violence.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    For some it would be fighting and general unpleasantness, for others it would lead them to rape and murder and the worst crimes against children. They were half-a-monster, and all too many of them gave up any desire to control those dark urges.


    I wondered whereabouts on that spectrum of evil he lay as I watched him.


    ¡°Kenny,¡± he said, inclining his head in mock greeting when it became clear I wasn¡¯t going to talk. ¡°You?¡±


    I remained silent and he scoffed.


    ¡°Come now. You refuse to show your eyes, and your name too. There is a limit to how much rudeness I will accept.¡±


    ¡°Emma,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°A pleasure.¡±


    His grin suggested otherwise.


    ¡°Why won¡¯t you leave this be?¡± I asked as we turned into an alley that ran past the back of a row of terraced houses.


    He remained silent but it didn¡¯t matter. I knew the answer anyway. I was something new, something unexpected and unknown. There was value in that and if he couldn¡¯t use me to bring himself money or power, then he would use my body.


    I was rapidly learning just what type of monster he was, even without knowing his power.


    Can¡¯t say I liked what I was learning either.


    ¡°This is me.¡± He waved at a wooden gate set into a high brick wall. The green paint peeling and faded.


    Pushing the gate open, he gestured for me to go ahead of him into the rubbish strewn enclosed garden. I picked my way past the discarded children¡¯s toys and black bin bags stuffed with old rubbish.


    The smell of stale piss assaulted my senses and there were empty bottles and beer cans littering the floor below the upstairs window.


    Kenny brushed past me, and I recoiled, the scent of sulphur leaking from him told me his power was held tight.


    Not a total fool then.


    ¡°No one will disturb us,¡± he said as he unlocked the door. ¡°Junkies next door are out scoring. No one in the other side.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t exactly reassuring, and I swallowed back the bile that threatened to spill out as I glanced around at the nearby houses. If anyone was in, they weren¡¯t watching out their windows. No one to see me enter the house.


    Kenny laughed.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, no one can see you.¡±


    Odd wording, but it brought with it understanding.


    Invisibilis. Translated, it meant unseen, or not visible. His power was invisibility and as he brought me, and no doubt many others before me, to his home, he was using his powers to hide us from view.


    No witnesses.


    What would that power do to someone? Knowing they could do whatever they wanted, and no one would ever witness it? What damage to his psyche, to a mind already infected with those chaotic urges, knowing that no one could prove he did anything because they couldn¡¯t see their attacker?


    A sickening feeling began as I knew what fate was instore for me.


    If I let it happen.


    Shaking my head sorrowfully, I followed him inside to a filthy kitchen. Grease stained the cabinet doors, and the worktop was covered in crumbs and spilt food.


    A chip pan sat on the oven top, and beside it a frying pan filled with congealed grease. I wrinkled my nose at the odour and tried not to touch anything as I walked past the sink filled to overflowing with plates and cups, and into the hallway then through to the living room.


    It was marginally cleaner, though the threadbare carpet hadn¡¯t seen a vacuum in some time, and I doubted that the surfaces had ever been wiped with a cloth, let alone with polish.


    ¡°Drink?¡± Kenny asked as he waved me towards the sofa. I shook my head and sank onto the upholstered cushions.


    Not a chance in hell I would eat or drink anything produced in the cess pit of a house.


    Kenny opened a cabinet and poured a generous measure of cheap brandy into a tumbler before coming over to join me. He settled beside me and took a sip before leaning back, half-turning so that he could face me.


    I turned my head to him.


    ¡°So,¡± he said. ¡°Tell me now, what are you?¡±


    I shook my head as I sighed. ¡°What does it matter? It won¡¯t benefit you to know.¡±


    ¡°Anyone so determined to hide what they are, has a reason,¡± he said, sipping his drink. ¡°Usually because they¡¯re valuable to someone else.¡±


    That hit too close for comfort.


    ¡°How much do you think the covens would pay for you?¡±


    My eyes fixed on his as I glared, but he met mine evenly as he just flashed that idiotic grin that I was growing to really dislike.


    A low rumble sounded from my stomach and his eyes flicked down as he laughed. ¡°You want me to get you something to eat?¡±


    ¡°Maybe later,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°Yeah, good idea,¡± he said, leaning closer, his grin predatory. ¡°Let¡¯s work up an appetite first.¡±


    His eyes glowed with a violet light that no human could ever see, and I flinched.


    ¡°You don¡¯t want to do this,¡± I warned.


    ¡°Come on,¡± he said, throwing back his drink and setting aside the tumbler. ¡°You knew what it meant when you came here. This is going to happen, and then you¡¯ll tell me everything.¡±


    He leaned in, his arm slipping around my shoulders possessively as he pulled me to him, burying his face against my neck as he nuzzled me. I recoiled and his grip tightened, his free hand gripping my arm before I could raise it.


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± I whispered, my stomach doing flips and my heart racing with fear of what was to come. ¡°Please.¡±


    ¡°Shhh,¡± he whispered, his hand releasing my arm as it slipped down to my thigh. ¡°This can be fun for us both¡­ if you let it.¡±


    I squirmed, pulling away from him but he held me tight. Fear clawed at my throat, and beneath it, a burning anger that was threatening to become a conflagration. A roaring fury that would sweep away everything I was as I lost control.


    ¡°You don¡¯t want to do this!¡±


    His fingers dug into my hair, yanking my head to the side. His breath was hot against my skin as his tongue slid across my neck. The revulsion hit like a wave, followed by something deeper. A spark of rage catching fire.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do what I want,¡± he said, breath hot on my neck.


    ¡°No,¡± I whispered, almost sadly. ¡°You won¡¯t.¡±


    His scream filled the room as I snapped his wrist in one quick movement, and it was his turn to pull away. It was too late though. I could feel the darkness filling my vision, and knew my eyes would be a black so total that it would reflect nothing as it devoured all light.


    In an instant, he disappeared, and I surged to my feet.


    Bloody wonderful!


    The door began to open, and I slipped a hand beneath the edge of the coffee table, lifting and throwing it all in one smooth motion.


    It crashed against something I couldn¡¯t see beside the opening door, and there came a shriek of pain as Kenny flickered back into visibility. I was on him in an instant, hands wrapping around his throat as I stared into his eyes.


    He was a head taller than me, and half-again as wide. His arms as wide around as my thighs and it meant nothing. He lashed out, fists landing blows against my head and shoulders. I didn¡¯t feel them. I couldn¡¯t feel them.


    I was numb, my flesh grey, cold and dead, the darkness inside of me a gnawing pit of emptiness devouring all that was life and living.


    His face began to redden, his tongue sticking out, eyes widening as they filled with the realisation that he was about to die.


    ¡°How many!¡± I snapped, staring into those eyes with my own dark vision. ¡°How many women have you brought back here? How many did what you wanted, whether they chose to or not?¡±


    He didn¡¯t answer, but that didn¡¯t matter. I could read it in those eyes, staring deep into his soul. It was as stained and tattered as my own.


    Rapist.


    Abuser.


    Murderer.


    Not that it mattered. Not then. Not when hunger tore at me. Like a starving man holding a steak. There was nothing I could do to stop myself.


    I opened my mouth and lunged, teeth sinking into his cheek as I bit down, tearing at the flesh. The metallic taste of blood filling my mouth as I began to chew, and Kenny died beneath my hands.

 Chapter 4

    I could still taste him.


    It didn¡¯t matter how much I rinsed my mouth or scrubbed at the blood that coated my chin and lips. The taste lingered.


    And I craved more.


    Tears ran down my cheeks as I buried my face in my hands and sobbed, hating what I was, what it made me do. This legacy of my mother, a woman I had never met and whom my father refused to speak of.


    My hands shook as I brushed my eyes, wiping away the tears. I sniffed, noisily, and swiped at the strands of hair that fell over my face and I looked, really looked, at the mess I had made.


    Sightless eyes stared back at me, the wet bloody mess of his face and neck were raw evidence of what I had done, and beneath his lifeless body, blood soaked the carpet in a slowly spreading pool.


    Shit.


    There was no hiding this. I had no one to call on to help me cover up this crime, and a crime it was. Despite what he had done, the humans would send me to prison and the supernatural community would turn to the covens for help.


    A shudder ran through me at the thought of what they¡¯d do.


    Better to open a vein right here, right now, and find final freedom.


    ¡°Dammit!¡±


    There were the tears again, staining my cheeks and ruining my makeup as if that even mattered. It was just more of a mess to clean up.


    I hated myself.


    I hated what I was.


    What I had become when I turned sixteen.


    Until then I was a normal girl. Well, as normal as any girl born into a supernatural family. But, despite that, I had friends, I went to school, and I even had boyfriends.


    I had a future.


    Then I turned sixteen and the change happened. I thought puberty had been bad, but it had nothing on what came to me then.


    I shook my head, clearing away those memories. It was not the time, nor the place. I was, what I was. There was no changing it, no cure to the cursed life I led.


    No. There was only dealing with it.


    I sniffed, noisily and pushed myself up from the grimy sofa. I checked through the kitchen, searching for rubbish bags and cleaning supplies, but to my utter lack of surprise, I found none of either.


    Next, I headed upstairs to the bedroom. My top was ruined and while I could wash the blood from my face and hands, I couldn¡¯t exactly leave with a white top that was covered quite liberally in the blood of the man I¡¯d just killed.


    There were few clothes in the wardrobe, but I found some sweatshirts in the top drawer of the dresser. They smelt strongly of mildew and BO, but it wasn¡¯t like I had much choice. I grabbed the cleanest I could find and pulled it over my head.


    It would be enough to get me home where I could change properly.


    I ran my fingers through my hair and exhaled a soft sigh. A quick look around the house hadn¡¯t exactly set me at ease. I wasn¡¯t even entirely sure that Kenny lived here.


    There were no pictures of family or friends, which wasn¡¯t damning in and of itself, he was a guy after all. But there were few clothes or personal belongings and the only room that looked like it saw consistent use was the bedroom.


    In the bathroom there was a toothbrush, toothpaste, soap and aftershave. No razor though. Since his face had a day¡¯s stubble growth at most, it suggested he was shaving elsewhere.


    My guess was doss house. A place he could come on a weekend that he could bring girls back to. A place where no one would see him coming and going and any¡­ mess¡­ he made could be cleaned up far from where he actually lived.


    He was too young to be married, not these days, and he had no ring, so I was beginning to suspect there was another reason he needed to keep his darker deeds away from his home.


    Add to that the very simple fact that a higher-than-average number of half-demons were engaged in crime at all levels, and it suggested to me that I had stepped into something I really wanted nothing to do with.


    I glanced down at the body, hating him for the mess he had caused.


    Really hating that I began to salivate at the sight of the ragged, red, flesh of his face.


    I turned away, squeezing shut my eyes and forcing down the hunger. I¡¯d fed it already, it would be days, perhaps weeks, before I was forced to feed it again.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    When I had no choice, but to feed.


    A yelp escaped me as the phone began to ring, startling me, and I looked across in horror at the phone and answer machine sitting on a side table. It was past nine, who would be calling?


    ¡°Kenny, you there? Pick up man, c¡¯mon.¡± A pause. ¡°Shit, alright, if you¡¯re still at the pub I¡¯ll see you there in an hour. If not, finish up with whatever bird you picked up and I¡¯ll be round to see you after I have a pint.¡±


    My eyes widened in fear. An hour! I was screwed.


    ¡°Remember, mate. You were taught to share, so wait for me, yeah?¡±


    A low chuckle, full of malice, was the last sound I heard before the call ended and I stared at the phone, wondering what the hell I was gonna do.


    Another glance down at the body of Kenny. There was no hiding what my teeth had done to his flesh and that would be evidence enough to call in the covens. Or, if he was a criminal like I suspected, to get a hunting party well and truly riled up.


    How long before questions were asked at the pub?


    How long before someone remembered seeing him talking to a girl on the common?


    How long before they were knocking on my door?


    ¡°Oh God!¡±


    I was screwed.


    Well and truly.


    ¡°Bugger.¡±


    I ran a hand down my face and sucked in a deep breath, willing my heart to stop racing.


    It didn¡¯t help.


    Panic was flooding my system with adrenaline and all I wanted to do was run as far and as fast as possible, but that wasn¡¯t the answer.


    There was nowhere to run to.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I told myself, voice trembling as much as my hands. ¡°You have an hour. You can do this.¡±


    Move the body. That was the answer.


    Without a body, they might assume Kenny had killed someone and done a runner. Not like they would be calling in the police.


    Right?


    My mind was racing, my heart fit to burst from my chest.


    I pulled open the back door and peered out. The houses I could see were starting to close their curtains, the summer sun finally heading towards the horizon. I couldn¡¯t see anyone in those windows, so with a deep breath, I slipped out of the back door and quickly across the garden.


    A dog barked as the gate shut, the metal bolt rattling, and I ducked my head and hurried along the alleyway back to the main road. I kept my hands in my pockets and my head down all the way home and whispered thanks to any deity that was listening that the feral kids had all moved on.


    I rushed up to my room and grabbed my car keys, along with a roll of rubbish bags, cloths and bleach. There wasn¡¯t much I could do in an hour, but I could at least try and clean up after myself.


    Back outside I stared critically at my car. When I¡¯d bought it, I¡¯d been almost giddy with how cute it was. A Mini Cooper in metallic green. A great car for a young woman on her way to university. Not so great for someone looking to move a body.


    Still, it wasn¡¯t like I had any other choices.


    I couldn¡¯t shake my nerve as I drove back to Kenny¡¯s house. It was as I was reversing along the narrow alley that I realised with a start that I wasn¡¯t entirely sure which house was his. A moments panic hit me before I caught sight of the green painted gate, and I heaved a heavy sigh.


    Back inside the house, I stood over Kenny¡¯s body and considered my options.


    Being what I had came with some benefits, not least of which was the supernatural strength. I was much stronger than your average girl. Your average guy, too. So, lifting and carrying the body wouldn¡¯t have been an issue except for the size.


    Kenny was six foot something, and broad enough that there was no way I could hide what I was carrying.


    Not unless I cut him into smaller pieces.


    ¡°Oh God,¡± I whispered as I headed to the kitchen to look for a knife.


    I kept one eye on my watch as I set about the grisly task with a too dull, rusted, carving knife found in a drawer in the kitchen.


    Arms first, cutting through the flesh of the shoulder and using my enhanced strength to force the blade through the bone with a most horrendous sound. Blood splashed the walls, and myself, and I swore softly at not covering up.


    Once the arms were secured in a rubbish bag, I went for the legs. They were long, too long for the bag, so I was forced to make two cuts. Just below the knee, and then at the hip. That was the harder part, the flesh being thick and heavy with muscle, making it challenging even with my strength.


    Then it was time for the head.


    I licked suddenly dry lips and tried to avoid looking into those empty eyes, all life absent. Despite my¡­ needs, I¡¯d never actually killed someone before. I¡¯d always had help from my father with managing my condition.


    He¡¯d supplied me the dead flesh I needed to live. Staving off the change that would have made me uncontrollably dangerous.


    Without him, I would have killed years before and likely lasted months before the covens hunted me down, determined to protect the supernatural world from being discovered by humans.


    I slammed the knife blade down against Kenny¡¯s neck, anger rising in me. It was his fault I¡¯d had to kill. His fault that he¡¯d died. If only he¡¯d kept himself out of my business. If he hadn¡¯t asked me those questions, demanded answers.


    If only he hadn¡¯t been raping scum deserving of death.


    I dumped the head in a bag and tied it off, ignoring the enticing aroma of the cooling flesh that kept my mouth watering despite the horror that brought me.


    Another trip to Kenny¡¯s bedroom to grab yet another sweater to replace the one I should have taken off before butchering the body, and I washed up as best I could before heading back to the kitchen door.


    After checking that there was no one watching, I carried the bags out and loaded them into my car. Covering them with a blanket so I didn¡¯t have to try and explain them should I pulled over. Though, to be fair, if I were pulled over, I was done for anyway.


    Back to the house where I used the bleach and the cleaning cloths, to wipe down every surface I might have possibly touched. Once that was done, I emptied out the remainder of the bleach onto the bloody stain on the carpet.


    Anything to make it harder for anyone to confirm whose blood it was.


    It wasn¡¯t exactly ideal, but it was the best I could do in the severely limited time I had left. A quick check of my watch was enough to remind me it had already been almost an hour which meant Kenny¡¯s friend would be back any moment.


    I closed up the house and went back to my car before driving back along the alley. I pulled out and drove carefully around to the front of the houses and parked up where I could have a clear view of the row of terraced houses.


    It wasn¡¯t long before someone came along. A slim man, young, with spiky black hair and tattoos on his neck. He knocked on a door and when no answer came, tried the handle. It opened because I¡¯d had the good sense to unlock it from the other side before, I left, and he went inside.


    He came back out shortly after entering and leaned against the doorframe as he smoked a cigarette. He was on his third smoke when another car pulled up and four men climbed out. The barrel chested balding man who I took to be the leader exchanged words with Kenny¡¯s friend before they all went into the house and my heart sank.


    I was right.


    He was a criminal of some sort and if there was one thing the supernatural criminals could do, it was organise themselves.


    They had to.


    If they didn¡¯t, the covens would come for them and shut them down.


    Which meant I was seriously screwed.

 Chapter 5

    I padded across the bare wooden boards and pulled open the front door just enough for me to see out, since I was only wearing knickers and an oversized t-shirt that I had slept in. I blinked blearily at the radiant smile of Tilly and stifled a groan.


    It was way too early for this.


    ¡°You feeling any better?¡±


    Her tone was friendly, even kind, and I knew it would be impolite to tell her to bugger off and leave me be. I wasn¡¯t exactly in the mood for casual chatter with a neighbour and I¡¯d had barely two hours sleep after arriving back in the early hours.


    Still¡­ I didn¡¯t want to arouse suspicion.


    ¡°I¡¯m okay. Just a bit of a dicky stomach. Something I ate.¡±


    ¡°Ah, chick, that sucks. Look, if you need anything I¡¯ve just been to the shops, so I¡¯m stocked up with the essentials.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± The local corner shop wasn¡¯t far from Kennys house. She¡¯d have had to pass his road to get there. I pulled open the door. ¡°You wanna come in for coffee?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d love a cup.¡±


    I stifled a yawn and closed the door behind her as she headed straight for the kitchenette. I waved her towards the kettle and headed back to my room to dress.


    By the time I came back out, dressed in my favourite ripped jeans and a pink striped crop top, Tilly had a steaming mug of coffee in her hand and one on the counter for me. The aroma of coffee filled the small flat, and even though it was just instant, it still lifted my mood enough that I smiled as I lifted the mug and inhaled that rich aroma.


    ¡°God, I needed this.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re still looking a bit pale,¡± Tilly agreed, sipping her drink. ¡°Did you get any sleep last night?¡±


    ¡°About an hour,¡± I admitted, though for different reasons than she thought.


    ¡°You missed a good band.¡± Tilly guided me towards the sofa, and we sat, her lifting her legs to curl them under her so she could sit facing me.


    ¡°Sorry I ditched you.¡±


    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s fine. I know enough of the regulars that I had plenty of people to talk to.¡±


    I managed an impish smile as I said, ¡°Oh, aye. Anyone in particular?¡±


    ¡°Behave!¡± She laughed with me, and I settled back in my seat, feeling some of the tension leaving my shoulders.


    We chatted amiably about little things for a while as we sipped at our drinks. Tilly was funny and kind, with a radiant personality and a love for gossip about the comings and goings of the people in the area.


    It wasn¡¯t long before she was telling me about the scandalous things she had noticed on her way to the shops. Apparently, it being an activity that she enjoyed mainly because it gave her the chance to have a nosey on her neighbours as she made the short walk.


    ¡°So, anyway,¡± she said, finishing her drink. ¡°Mr. Bradley was coming out of Maria Harris¡¯ house. When he saw me, he said he was stopping in to check on her boiler, but you know it was something else.¡±


    ¡°Maybe he was just checking her boiler.¡±


    ¡°At eight in the morning! You¡¯re having a laugh. He spent the night!¡±


    She sounded so scandalised yet delighted at the same time that I couldn¡¯t help smiling with her.


    ¡°Anyway, after he scurried home to Mrs. Bradley, I saw a couple of guys coming out of one of those derelict houses, over on Ennerdale Avenue.¡±


    I tried not to seem too interested but even so, I leaned in, voice trembling a little as I asked, ¡°Derelict houses?¡±


    ¡°Might as well be,¡± she scoffed. ¡°Druggies and wasters are the only ones that live in em.¡±


    Had to be Kenny¡¯s house. I was sure of that.


    ¡°What¡¯s so strange about that?¡±


    ¡°Well-¡°


    She cut off as my phone started ringing and I jerked up guiltily though I couldn¡¯t say why. I smiled apologetically to Tilly and reached over to grab the phone.


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Emma.¡±


    ¡°Oh, hi, Jack.¡± ¡®My boss¡¯ I mouthed to Tilly who nodded and settled in comfortably to wait. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°Need you to come in.¡±


    ¡°On a Saturday?¡±


    ¡°That a problem?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Pretty sure it was that last thing I needed. ¡°Any reason why?¡±The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    He¡¯d already hung up and I sighed as I rolled my eyes and looked at apologetically at my friend. ¡°Sorry, called in to work.¡±


    ¡°Where is you work again?¡±


    ¡°Some backstreet office just off the town centre.¡±


    ¡°Any chance of a lift into town?¡±


    Hell no! That was all I needed. I had no idea how clean my car was.


    ¡°Sure,¡± I said, smiling nervously. ¡°Let me just get my coat and purse.¡±


    ¡°Meet you outside.¡±


    As Tilly left the panic hit. Why was I being called in on a Saturday? I¡¯d only been there for a day so far so I had no idea if it was normal or not, but coming right after what had happened last night, I couldn¡¯t stop the paranoia from eating away at me.


    I pulled on my boots and checked my purse. It had my passport and drivers¡¯ licence, my bank book and wallet, along with the last cash I had and the small folding blade I carried. Hardly enough for me to run with, but if I needed to, I had the basics.


    True to her word Tilly was waiting and I breathed in the already warm air. It was going to be another scorcher of a day, and I didn¡¯t even need the light jacket I wore.


    We walked the short distance to my car, and I unlocked and climbed in, inhaling deeply as Tilly walked around to the passenger side. The faintest aroma of the water and bleach mix I had used to wipe down the interior when I got back, and no tantalizing scent of rotting flesh.


    Off to a good start.


    I dropped Tilly off as close to the city centre as I could, and she waved goodbye as I manoeuvred back into Saturday morning traffic. Soon enough, I was parking on the street outside the office behind a battered Land Rover Jeep.


    Jack¡¯s, I imagined, looking it over and noting the dried mud along its side. The perfect vehicle for a werewolf who needed to get out onto the moors when the need to change came upon him.


    I climbed the stairs with some trepidation and hesitated outside the door, unsure if I should knock or not. I decided, not, since I worked there and pushed open the door, heading inside.


    The office had a strong smell of coffee and there was a Styrofoam cup on my desk with a paper wrapped package beside it. Jack sat behind his desk; head bowed over a stack of papers he was reading through as he ate what looked to be his second bacon sandwich, judging by the screwed-up paper packets on his desk.


    ¡°That can¡¯t be good for your arteries,¡± I muttered, and he looked up, flashing white teeth. I inclined my head towards the sandwich on my desk. ¡°Thanks for this but I¡¯m a vegetarian.¡±


    ¡°Figured,¡± he said in that deep rumbling baritone. ¡°Got you a toasted t-cake.¡±


    A pleasant surprise. I studied him for a moment and grunted softly. He was more considerate than the scruffy, homeless person vibe he gave off would have suggested.


    I took a seat at my desk and unwrapped the t-cake. Toasted well and slathered with butter. Not at all unwelcome after the night I¡¯d had. I took a large bite and asked around a mouthful, ¡°So, why we here?¡±


    ¡°Client coming in,¡± Jack said, not looking up. ¡°Done some work with them before. Dodgy lot, so you keep your head down but take notes.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean ¡®dodgy?¡¯¡± I asked, brow furrowing.


    ¡°Not human.¡±


    ¡°You get a lot of supernatural business?¡± I took another bite, chewing slower this time and savouring the taste.


    ¡°Sixty or seventy percent,¡± he admitted. ¡°Lot of weird shit happens in this town.¡±


    No kidding.


    I sipped the coffee and grimaced. Far too sweet, but better than nothing.


    ¡°If you¡¯re gonna work here,¡± Jack said, pausing in his work to look over at me. ¡°You¡¯re gonna have to get used to some of our clients.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯d you mean?¡±


    ¡°I do work for the covens.¡±


    Which I knew.


    ¡°Well, I also do work for the ordinary folk just wanting to live their lives when they¡¯re getting screwed over by the covens, or by the less¡­ friendly members of our own community.¡±


    I slowed my chewing, not liking the sound of that.


    ¡°Anyway, there¡¯s a bunch of half-demons that think they¡¯re gangsters,¡± he said as the taste of my sandwich turned to ashes. ¡°Part of my work for the covens is making sure no one breaks the rules. If I do work for the gangster wannabes, I can do that.¡±


    ¡°W-what kind of work do you do?¡±


    Jack smiled, not unkindly. ¡°Nothing too dodgy, lass. Don¡¯t worry. You won¡¯t be robbing banks or burying bodies anytime soon.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± I smiled weakly, my stomach churning as I set down my t-cake. No longer feeling like eating.


    How wrong he was.


    ¡°Most of their money comes from dealing ¡®E¡¯ to the ravers, and maybe a bit of ¡®H¡¯ to the hardcore druggies. I do background checks and keep an eye out for anything that might get them noticed by the police or the covens. Nothing too big, you know?¡±


    I nodded. Not like he had much choice. The cardinal rule for the supernatural community was to not get noticed. The covens were the main power in our world and if the humans found out about us, it would expose them too.


    Since they were run like a cross between big business and the mob, using their witchcraft to gain wealth and power beyond anything most people could imagine; they really didn¡¯t want to be exposed.


    In fact, the last time they had been exposed it had led to the witch trials and too many of their kind being burned along with a bunch of innocent women. The coven¡¯s memory was long, and they weren¡¯t strong enough to take on the humans in an open confrontation, even now.


    So, they maintained the peace. They kept the worst of our community under control with fire and fury if needed.


    Which it often was.


    ¡°Ah, so it¡¯s like, background stuff you¡¯re doing today, right?¡±


    ¡°Nah, got a call from the big boss himself. Urgent, he needed to speak to me, so here I am and here you are.¡± He glanced up, brow furrowing. ¡°It¡¯ll be okay, you don¡¯t need to worry.¡±


    Showed what he knew.


    I forced myself to finish the last of the sandwich and too sweet coffee and cleared the rubbish away silently. Once done, I pulled out a writing pad and pen and waited.


    It wasn¡¯t a long wait.


    There was a single rap of knuckles on the door as warning before it was pushed open and three men walked in.


    The first was old, in his sixties, and wearing an expensive tailor-made suit. Gold Rolex on his wrist, and heavy gold rings on his fingers. His thinning hair was slicked back and gleamed in the light coming in through the open window.


    Behind him were what I guessed to be his bodyguards. Large men, physically fit and imposing. The closest to me wore a beard and dark sunglasses. His tan too even to be natural, and the edge of a tattoo visible on his wrist, poking out from beneath the cuff of his shirt.


    A thug trying to look professional.


    Next to him was the barrel-chested man I had seen enter Kenny¡¯s last night, and my heart sank. There was something about him that set my teeth on edge and raised my hackles. A primitive part of my brain screaming ¡®danger, danger¡¯ and there was nothing of human emotion in those dark eyes of his.


    He glanced at me, eyes taking in everything about me in an instant before he dismissed me as not a threat to his boss. He leant back beside the door, large arms crossed over his chest as he casually blocked the door from opening without seeming to do so.


    I swallowed hard.


    This was really bad.


    ¡°Marco,¡± Jack greeted, rising from his seat and extending a hand. ¡°What was so urgent?¡±


    ¡°My son¡¯s missing,¡± Marco said. ¡°I want you to find him.¡±


    The room was spinning, and I had to grip the edge of my desk as my stomach did somersaults. My mouth and throat suddenly dry as I began to perspire hard enough that I was sure you didn¡¯t need to be a werewolf to smell me.


    It couldn¡¯t be a coincidence.


    No way.


    Oh fuck.

 Chapter 6

    I couldn¡¯t breathe.


    The pen was slick in my sweat damp palms and my writing barely legible as I copied down notes by rote, not even really hearing what was being said over the sound of the blood rushing in my ears.


    Everything sounded like it was coming from a distance, the words echoing and strange to my ear. I swallowed back the bile that threatened to spill out and wiped the sweat from my brow, the motion bringing the attention of the barrel-chested man with the dead eyes.


    I only sweat harder.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you jumping the gun a bit?¡± Jack was asking, Marko. ¡°He¡¯s been missing since yesterday evening, so¡­ what? Fifteen, sixteen, hours?¡±


    ¡°There was blood,¡± Marko snapped back, finger jabbing down at the desks surface as he emphasised his words. ¡°Someone tried to clean it up.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps he did?¡± Jack glanced at me, and I thought this is it, he knows! ¡°Your lad has had a few¡­ incidents that required clean up.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯d have called us,¡± Barrel-chest said.


    ¡°Troy¡¯s right,¡± Marko added. ¡°He knows that if something happens, he needs to call Troy or Lucas.¡±


    The bearded bodyguard lifted his chin at that, and I guessed that he was Lucas.


    Good to know the names of the men likely to kill me, I guess.


    ¡°Look.¡± Jack leaned back, sighing as he looked Marko straight in the eyes. ¡°I¡¯m happy to take your money, but he¡¯s probably either on a bender or trying to clean up a mess he made. Probably be home in time for tea tonight.¡±


    ¡°Find him,¡± Marko said, his voice practically a growl. ¡°I want updates.¡±


    ¡°Anything you say.¡±


    Marko rose, pushing the chair back in a motion that was almost violent. It seemed that all of his motions were such, as though everything he did was him holding back the urge to lash out, to hurt or destroy.


    A shiver ran down my back.


    Was I like that? Was my hunger writ so clear in my every movement?


    I hoped not.


    Jack waited for them to leave before he tossed his pen onto his desk and pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes, rubbing them. He remained that way for a moment, even after he lowered his hands, staring up at the ceiling.


    ¡°Waste of bloody time,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    He did look at me then, shaking his head as his lips twisted as though tasting something sour.


    ¡°I know, Kenny. He¡¯s an absolute wanker and I wouldn¡¯t trust him alone with any woman. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time he went too far and made a mess than needed clearing away.¡±


    He sounded tired, and bored, not horrified. Was that a personality quirk of his, some deep-seated werewolf, alpha-male, misogynistic bullshit or was he just so used to such things that he was numb to their horror?


    I honestly couldn¡¯t tell.


    What I could, though, was that he had taken the case to find out what had happened, and that trail would inevitably lead to me. My clean up had been far too fast, too amateur because that¡¯s what I bloody-well was! An amateur.


    Christ. I was gonna die.


    If not the half-demons, then the coven when they found out I had become a man-killer. A threat to their perfectly controlled secret world.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Jack repeated, louder and I blinked, looking over at him.


    ¡°Sorry, what?¡±


    ¡°I said are you ready to go?¡±


    ¡°Go where?¡±


    ¡°Kennys house.¡±


    Shit, shit, shit.


    No!


    ¡°Yeah, sure.¡±


    This wasn¡¯t good. He was a werewolf. He would smell that I¡¯d been there.


    ¡°Great, we¡¯ll take my jeep.¡±


    ¡°Whatever you say, boss.¡±


    I was so very proud of the way my voice was even and still. Even if my hands were trembling so hard, I could barely hold my purse open to stuff the pen and pad in with everything else I had in there.


    My fingers briefly touched the knife.


    A last resort.


    The blade was silver.


    For most supernatural species, silver was anathema. It burned like nothing else.


    I pulled it out and slipped it into my pocket.


    Just in case.


    We drove to Kennys place in silence, and I was all too aware of the concerned glances that Jack kept giving me. I turned my head and stared out the window, watching the City of York go by as we drove to what I was certain could well be my end.


    ¡°You live near here, yeah?¡±Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    I glanced over at Jack, eyebrows rising. ¡°Yeah. I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d given you my address yet, just my number.¡±


    ¡°Aye, but I¡¯d be a pretty poor PI if I couldn¡¯t figure out that, wouldn¡¯t I?¡±


    He grinned as he said it, and I took it to be meant in good humour, but it was far from that for me. If I was that easy to find for him, then perhaps I would be just as easy for my family to find too.


    Which was the very last thing I wanted.


    ¡°Looks like this is it.¡± He leaned forward over the steering wheel, staring up at the houses as he slowed to a stop. ¡°Bit of a shithole, which isn¡¯t unexpected.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, why what did you expect?¡±


    I shrugged. What the hell was I supposed to say. I¡¯d already seen where he lived. Best I could do was lie.


    ¡°Son of a criminal gang leader. I figured he¡¯d have a bit more cash. Could rent a swanky place in the town centre.¡±


    ¡°He does,¡± Jack said. ¡°We¡¯ll be going there next. This is one of the places he deals from. Then uses it on a night to bring back girls. Easy pickings here. He flashes a bit of cash, says some nice words and he¡¯s a good-looking lad, so they tend to fall for it. Poor sods.¡±


    Was that concern for the girls Kenny abused? I honestly couldn¡¯t tell, but once again I found myself re-evaluating my opinion of the big man.


    Perhaps he did care and was frustrated because he was stuck between a rock and a hard place when it came to the covens and the gangsters.


    ¡°Where¡¯s your pack?¡± I whispered and he stiffened, eyes flashing with anger as they turned a bright, unnatural amber. The steering wheel groaned as he gripped it tight, stressing the material, and I held up my hands.


    ¡°Sorry! I didn¡¯t mean-¡°


    ¡°Leave it,¡± he growled, knuckles so white where he gripped the wheel I feared for his blood flow.


    He climbed out of the car, and I scrambled after him. I had one chance to hide that I¡¯d been here last night, and it was going to be tricky to manage. More so if he was pissed off with adrenaline pumping.


    ¡°The doors open, right?¡± I called out as I hurried through the gate and towards the door. ¡°I¡¯ll meet you in there.¡±


    ¡°Wait! Emma, dammit!¡±


    The door opened easily, and I slipped inside. I moved quickly through the living room, and into the kitchen trailing my fingers along the grimy walls and touching every exposed surface I could.


    ¡°Just checking upstairs,¡± I called out as Jack burst through the front door.


    I ignored his call and made a quick circuit of the upstairs, opening drawers and cupboards and leaving my scent on everything.


    Jack barrelled up the stairs, jaw clenched, and hands curled into fists, as I came out of the bathroom.


    ¡°All clear,¡± I said, brightly. ¡°He isn¡¯t here.¡±


    Large hands grabbed me and lifted me easily, so that I was barely an inch away from his face as he growled low in his throat in a way that set my nerves afire. There was something primal about it, and the way he held me, his grip strong but not too tight.


    Well¡­ it was unnerving.


    ¡°The hell do you think you¡¯re doing!¡± He practically screamed and I flinched back. ¡°You know how dangerous that was!¡±


    It was my turn for my eyes to flash, and he jerked back instinctively at what he saw there. His hands opened and I dropped to the floor, landing easily on my feet as I growled back a response of my own.


    ¡°Not as dangerous as you think!¡±


    His breathing was coming in shallow gasps, and his entire body was clenched so tightly I was pretty sure one wrong move would send him bouncing from the walls like a startled cat. I sucked in a deep breath and slowly raised my hands in surrender.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I lied. ¡°It was reckless, but I was just eager to show you I can do the job.¡±


    It took a moment for him to compose himself enough to answer, but his muscles slowly uncoiled, and his stance relaxed, along with his fists. ¡°All you did was show me how new you are to this.¡±


    As rebukes went, not the worst. I could live with that.


    He obviously wasn¡¯t thinking about why my scent was all over the bloody house at least.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± I repeated, doing my damndest to look contrite.


    Not sure it worked.


    He made a show of looking around, not that there was much to see. Only two rooms up here. Bedroom and bathroom.


    ¡°Anything in here?¡±


    ¡°Some toiletries, a few clothes in the bedroom. That¡¯s it.¡±


    He huffed and pushed open the bedroom door, lifting his chin as he sniffed at the air.


    ¡°Smell anything?¡± I asked, innocently.


    ¡°Too many scents, new and old,¡± he muttered, almost as though talking to himself. ¡°I¡¯d need to change to fully decipher them.¡±


    That was news to me.


    ¡°So, your senses are stronger in wolf form?¡±


    He turned his head, frowning back at me. ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± I mocked, pulling a face. ¡°It if was obvious I wouldn¡¯t have bloody asked, would I?¡±


    He chuckled quietly as he entered the room. I stood at the doorway and watched as he moved through the room, pulling open the cupboards and drawers that I had. He didn¡¯t stop there though, lifting the mattress and tossing it aside as though it weighed nothing.


    Bedframe next, he lowered himself to the floor, hands pressing down on the grimy carpet as he sniffed, long and loud.


    ¡°Something here,¡± he muttered.


    There was that flash of amber and his right hand began to change as his brow furrowed and sweat beaded his skin. He concentrated, focusing all of his will on changing just the one hand, as his fingers lengthened, and the nails formed into sharp, curved claws.


    With a single swipe, he tore up the carpet and a loose floorboard along with it. I blinked, and realised I was holding my breath, mesmerised.


    As much as I knew of the supernatural community, I had always been held apart from it. ¡®We don¡¯t mix with the lesser races,¡¯ my grandmother had used to say. Her casual bigotry reason enough to hate me for being what I was, even if not for the danger I presented.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked, my voice subdued by the memory of that vile old woman.


    ¡°A box.¡±


    ¡°Well, duh!¡±


    I could see that. Wooden, about the size of the palm of his hand, which to be fair made it twice the size of the palm of my hand. It had intricate carvings all across its surface, symbols and imagery that I couldn¡¯t understand, though it seemed familiar.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you opening it?¡± I asked as he slipped it into the pocket of his jacket.


    ¡°It¡¯s covered in wards,¡± he said, grunting and shaking his head. ¡°Not worth risking opening.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡±


    A shrug of those large shoulders and then he answered, almost absently as he looked around the room. ¡°Could be set to destroy what¡¯s inside or to burn to ash anyone who tries to open it. I don¡¯t know, I¡¯m no caster of spells.¡±


    ¡°Then what you gonna do with it?¡±


    ¡°Take it to someone who is.¡±


    Great. Thanks for that enlightening explanation.


    I shook my head, no wiser than I had been before I asked the question. Jack pulled out the dresser drawers and checked them over thoroughly for anything else that might be hidden before he left them discarded on the bedroom floor and headed to the bathroom.


    There was less to check in there and judging by the distinct uncleanliness of the house, I was pretty glad I didn¡¯t share his sense of smell. I stayed outside and waited, listening as he tore the bathroom cabinet from the wall and then the side panel off the bath.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± he grunted, coming back out of the room.


    Downstairs we went and he repeated his search of the rooms there, starting with the kitchen before moving to the living room. Only when he was certain that he¡¯d gone over every inch of the place did he approach the blood-stained patch of carpet.


    He knelt down inhaling deeply and scrunched up his nose in disgust.


    ¡°Bleach,¡± he muttered, pulling a face. ¡°Can¡¯t tell if this was his blood or someone else¡¯s.¡±


    I wanted to sigh with relief, but didn¡¯t dare make a sound that he might notice and bring attention to myself.


    ¡°Too much blood for anyone to survive,¡± he said. ¡°If it is Kenny, I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s dead.¡±


    ¡°You gonna tell his dad that?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Another frown as he scratched at his bearded chin. ¡°Not yet, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    Jack turned to look at me and I caught a deep weariness in his eyes, there and gone in an instant, wiped away as though he were afraid of showing any vulnerability.


    ¡°Because once he¡¯s sure his son is dead, he will tear this city apart looking for the killer,¡± he said sighing. ¡°That amount of bloodshed will bring in the covens. Then all hell will break loose.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    I had to bear the responsibility for that, as much as I didn¡¯t want to. If that happened, the covens would be the very worst of it, but the thought of innocent people getting hurt because of something I did was almost too much to bear.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, lass,¡± Jack said. ¡°We need to figure out who the killer is and find him before this city falls into to chaos.¡±


    Great.


    Just, bloody, great.

 Chapter 7

    A day spent going door to door asking if the residents had seen anyone going in or coming out of Kenny¡¯s house was about as much fun as I¡¯d expected. It was hard to look someone in the eye and ask them that when I was the one they might have seen.


    Still, either because they hadn¡¯t seen anyone or just had a natural urge not to ¡®snitch,¡¯ I came up empty with no one admitting to seeing anything.


    I could only hope that would remain the same if Marko sent his goons knocking on their doors instead.


    By the time we were done it was getting late, and I climbed into Jack¡¯s car with aching feet and the beginnings of a headache from being out in the sun all day. Which was something I wasn¡¯t used to, and my pale skin was entirely too likely to burn rather than tan.


    Just what I needed.


    ¡°I can drop you off at home or take you back to the office,¡± Jack said, pulling his seatbelt on. ¡°Up to you.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re done for the day?¡±


    He offered a tired smile and nodded. ¡°Not much more we can do here.¡±


    ¡°So, what, that¡¯s it?¡± I pulled a face at that. It seemed somehow, wrong, not to be doing more. Even though the last thing I wanted was for more effort being put into finding Kenny, or me.


    ¡°I¡¯ll drop you off, then I¡¯m gonna go check out some of his usual hangouts.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll go with you.¡±


    No idea why I¡¯d said that, but he was considering the offer, judging by the way he was looking at me.


    ¡°The places I¡¯m going, aren¡¯t going to be pleasant.¡±


    Considering the type of person Kenny was, that didn¡¯t surprise me in the slightest. The thought of just what those types of places might be, filled me with more than a little apprehension, but something about spending the day watching Jack work and learning how his business worked, made me want to know more.


    ¡°I¡¯m good with that,¡± I said, smiling as confidently as I could.


    He lifted broad shoulders in a shrug. ¡°Fair enough, buckle up then.¡±


    My heart sank when I realised his first stop was the local pub, but I followed him inside and accepted the half pint of lager he bought me while he made casual small talk with the barman. I sipped at the drink and wrinkled my nose. It wasn¡¯t to my taste at all.


    ¡°He was here last night,¡± Jack said, turning his back to the bar and resting his elbows on the sticky surface as he scanned the room.


    It was less crowded than it had been last night, with a larger group of young lads in checked flannel shirts, black trousers and shoes. The girls all seemed to have some variation of a little black dress and clustered in groups, chatting and eyeing the boys.


    The older crowd were fewer in number but had taken the majority of the tables and congregated by the bar, smoking and drinking pints of bitter.


    ¡°I was here last night,¡± I pointed out. ¡°Place was packed. There was a band on.¡±


    Jack glanced at me; brow furrowed.


    ¡°You might have seen him.¡±


    ¡°Not sure how I¡¯d know without a picture.¡±


    He nodded agreement and shrugged again. ¡°True enough.¡±


    ¡°Do you have a picture?¡±


    ¡°Not right now.¡±


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that help?¡±


    He smiled wryly at that and took a deep swallow of his pint.


    ¡°Trust me, lass. Everyone around here knows who he is.¡±


    Couldn¡¯t really argue with that. There were around 130,000 people in the city and its surrounding areas. Small compared to some cities, but the supernatural community was larger than most. Something about the city drew them to it, and there were many small enclaves hidden away amongst the humans.


    Since those supernaturals with that spark of chaos that drove them to crime and other bad acts tended to prey on their own community as much as the humans. It was easy to think that they would be well known.


    Even if just to know who to avoid.


    ¡°Drink up,¡± Jack said, looking at his watch. ¡°We need to get going.¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t asked anyone here anything?¡±


    ¡°Let the lass behind the bar know and she¡¯ll spread the word there¡¯s cash for info.¡± He grinned, and chuckled low in his throat. ¡°Part of doing this job is learning to work smart, lass. Dangle a reward and people will come to you. Saves you a load of legwork.¡±


    Wise words.


    I drank the frothy lager and wiped the back of my mouth with my hand as I grimaced at the urge to belch that came with it. I fought it down and followed Jack back to the car.


    ¡°Where to now?¡±


    ¡°The Shambles.¡±


    The name rang a bell, and I quickly that I had walked its length while searching for a job. It was a street full of history and a popular destination for tourists. Cobble stoned streets and overhanging timber-framed buildings with upper floors almost touching across the narrow street.


    It was filled with tourist focused stores full of souvenirs, artisan goods and antiques, mixed with tea rooms and cafes. A place for people to browse and take in the atmosphere with buskers and crowds during the warm summer days creating an almost festival-like atmosphere.


    To be honest, it had seemed like a great place to visit, and it was somewhere I had definitely been planning to go once I had some money to spend.


    I certainly hadn¡¯t expected my first leisurely visit to be early evening when most of the shops would be shut.


    It was a short walk from where Jack parked in the city centre, and even as late as it was, there were still a few cafes open with buskers performing for the thinning crowd.


    Jack ignored the tourists and buskers both and slipped into an even narrower alleyway between two shops. My boots squelched in something wet which I¡¯d not expected given the heat of the day, and I grimaced at the assault of unpleasant odours on my senses.


    ¡°What¡¯re we doing?¡± I hissed, almost bumping into him as he stopped abruptly. There was little light in the alley and while he had werewolf eyesight suited for hunting at night, I most assuredly did not.


    Though the idea of seeing what I was walking through was not high on my list of priorities.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Jack glanced back and down at me and grunted a reply that meant absolutely nothing to me, before he lifted one great big fist and knocked almost politely on a black painted steel door I hadn¡¯t even noticed.


    A hatch slid open, and a pair of eyes looked out. Those eyes shone with a deep earthen brown as a muffled voice asked a question I didn¡¯t catch.


    ¡°You know me, Billy. Open the bloody door.¡±


    More muffled words followed by laughter and the hatch slid shut. There was the heavy clunk of a bolt being drawn back and then the door swung inwards.


    ¡°Stay close,¡± Jack said, before ducking his head and stepping through the door.


    With a suddenly dry mouth and a case of nerves that had my palms sweating, I followed after him.


    There were stairs and a maze of corridors lined with doors, some open and most closed. Smoke hung heavy and the primary colours seemed to be red and black.


    I turned my head this way and that, trying to take in everything while I stared wide-eyed at what those open doors revealed. Women in lacy lingerie and silken robes sprawled on fainting couches and beds. Their faces heavily made up, their hair neatly arranged as they smoke and drank, often alone but sometimes with partners.


    Pills and powders were laid out openly, and money was exchanged by sweating overweight men as they shrugged out of their shirts and shoes. Moans and the rhythmic thumping of headboards filled my ears, and I scurried to keep up with Jack, my cheeks burning, as he marched along without looking anywhere but straight ahead.


    A curtain was pulled aside, and we stepped through into a dimly lit room filled with the foul-smelling cigar smoke that mixed with the cigarettes, cologne and perfume of the clientele. Laughter and voices raised in friendly chatter washed over me along with the rattle of the ball on the roulette wheel.


    Tables were set up for cards where men and women concentrated, studying their opponents as much as the cards they held. Piles of plastic chips were exchanged on the flip of a card, while a woman laughed in delight as her number came up on the roulette wheel.


    I shook my head, bemused by it all, and did as instructed, staying close to Jack and he elbowed his way through the watchers standing around the tables, to the bar at the back of the room.


    There, a man sat on a stool, his expensive suit pristine with nary a crease nor stain on the material. His thinning hair was cut short, and his face shaved smooth but for the greying moustache that curled exquisitely on the ends.


    His eyes flashed, for the briefest moment, a deep, dark, red and I shivered.


    Undead.


    ¡°Peter.¡± Jack clasped his outstretched hand with his own and pumped it vigorously. ¡°Business looks good.¡±


    ¡°One thing I¡¯ve learned over the long years,¡± Peter said, his voice soft, almost effeminate. ¡°People love sex, alcohol and gambling. Can¡¯t go wrong with any of them.¡±


    ¡°So why not have all three,¡± Jack agreed, laughing. He turned his head, looking back and reached out a hand to clasp my shoulder as he gently pulled me forward. ¡°This is my colleague, Emma.¡±


    The distinguished gentleman took my hand lifting it to his lips as he bowed his head. There was no contact, merely the faintest whisper of cold, dry, breath against my skin. When he glanced up, his eyes flashed again, and I clenched my jaw as I forced mine to not respond.


    A faint line marred his brow as he released my hand, his eyes flicking to Jack.


    ¡°Shy,¡± Jack said. ¡°Perhaps a little private. You understand?¡±


    ¡°Ah, of course.¡± Peter inclined his head to me once more. ¡°I can appreciate a need for privacy in a den of iniquity such as this. Fear not, my beautiful, young, friend. None shall harm you here nor shall they force you to share that which you would rather remain private.¡±


    ¡°Long winded way of saying you¡¯re good,¡± Jack added, rolling his eyes and chuckling.


    ¡°The insolence of youth,¡± Peter lamented. He tilted his head towards the bar. ¡°Could I, perhaps, purchase you a drink?¡±


    ¡°Beer will be fine for me,¡± Jack said as Peter shook his head sorrowfully.


    ¡°Your lack of taste for the finer things shall forever be the source of my deepest woe.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t be doing with all that.¡± Jack laughed, seeming to enjoy the other man¡¯s company and banter. ¡°I¡¯m a simple man.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a beast.¡± Peter gave a secretive smile. ¡°In more ways than one.¡±


    ¡°Better a beast than a leech.¡±


    ¡°You wound me!¡± Peter pressed the back of his hand to his forehead as he threw it back theatrically. Jack laughed, and Peter turned his attention to me. ¡°You child, you sweet young thing, could I tempt you with something more refined. Say the word, and I shall let you taste of my finest wines.¡±


    My eyes flicked to Jack, and I caught the almost imperceptible nod, so I plastered on a smile for the vampire at the bar, and said, ¡°I¡¯d be honoured.¡±


    Peter clicked his fingers as he spun on his stool, gathering the attention of the pretty woman behind the bar serving drinks in what I could only assume was something that was more lingerie than dress. He whispered instructions and she moved into a back room through a curtained doorway and returned with a single glass of red wine.


    She placed it on the bar, and I lifted it, feeling Peter¡¯s eyes fixed on me, his mouth ajar as he lifted his chin, eagerly awaiting a response.


    I lifted the glass to my nose, inhaling deeply and swirled the glass, before taking a tentative sip. I stood for a moment, letting the tension build as Jack smiled and Peter leant so far forward on his stool that I feared he might fall off.


    ¡°A Borolo,¡± I said, smacking my lips, tasting the again the wine that lingered upon them. ¡°1982?¡±


    Peter¡¯s eyes opened wide as his brows rose and he exclaimed, ¡°Why yes!¡±


    ¡°Rich and powerful, the aroma is¡­ dried roses, tar and the earthiness of truffles,¡± I said, almost laughing as his eyes opened even wider still. ¡°Vibrant cherry and plum, balanced with notes of liquorice, leather, and¡­¡± I paused, considering. ¡°Tobacco.¡±


    ¡°Bravo!¡± Peter laughed, clapping. ¡°Put that swill aside. Lia, my love, bring her a glass of the Domaine De La Romanee-Conti.¡±


    It was my turn to be surprised. A bottle of the 1982 Barolo cost as much as I would earn in a week working for Jack. The Domaine De La Romanne-Conti could be as much as ten times that.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t,¡± I protested. ¡°That¡¯s too much.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense.¡± Peter waved away my protestations. ¡°You do not know what a delight it is to finally have this brute of a man introduce me to someone with such refined taste. Tell me, you beautiful child, you have tasted these before, yes?¡±


    I was suddenly intensely aware of Jack¡¯s quiet interest in my answer, and all too aware of Peter¡¯s more open interest.


    ¡°My father,¡± I said, voice soft and still. ¡°He was a total snob when it came to wine.¡±


    ¡°A man of great taste.¡± Peter inclined his head, bowing low in respect.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± My voice was small and my I had to force my hands to remain at my sides as I swallowed past the lump in my throat.


    Lia returned with a glass of wine and set it down almost reverently before me and I smiled my thanks to her as Peter turned his attention back to Jack.


    ¡°Now, my boy. Tell me what brings you to my domain.¡±


    ¡°Looking for Kenny Ferreira,¡± Jack said, lowering his voice. ¡°I heard he came here on occasion.¡±


    A sneer crossed the old vampires face as he shook his head.


    ¡°I know of the boy, but I banned him from this place months ago.¡± His eyes flicked to me and then back to Jack. ¡°He had a tendency to hurt the girls. I¡¯ll not have that, not here.¡±


    Jack dropped his gaze, chewing his lower lip as he considered, and then when he reached a decision, he exhaled a soft sigh.


    ¡°I hate to ask you this¡­¡±


    ¡°Ask, and I shall answer. For you, and for the pleasure you have given me by introducing me to someone who can appreciate my wine as much as I wish I could.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Jack offered an almost shy smile that soon faded. ¡°Do you know anyone who would have wished to harm him?¡±


    Peter sat for a moment and then burst into laughter, loud and full of good cheer. Heads turned at the sound but when they saw who was laughing, those people soon turned back to their games of chance.


    ¡°The better question, my boy,¡± Peter said, still chuckling. ¡°Is, was there anyone who didn¡¯t wish to harm him?¡±


    While it clearly amused Peter, the answer only irked Jack, and the vampire waved a hand effetely, his laughter fading to a soft chuckle.


    ¡°Forgive me,¡± he said. ¡°Yes, there are several people who would love nothing more than to do harm to young, Kenneth Ferreira. Why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s missing.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± That stilled the vampire¡¯s amusement, and his face assumed an expression of concern. ¡°That is¡­ problematic.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Jack agreed. ¡°Who would be most likely?¡±


    ¡°Banner, perhaps. I understand, young Kenneth had quite a sizeable debt with him.¡±


    ¡°For what?¡±


    ¡°A missing shipment of his favoured product,¡± Peter said. ¡°I understand him to have been quite upset about the whole situation and the blame fell squarely upon Kenneth¡¯s shoulders.¡±


    ¡°Could have taken him to get his dad to pay up,¡± Jack mused. ¡°But, there was a lot of blood.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You are aware, are you not, of young Kenneth¡¯s abilities?¡±


    ¡°He was an Invisibilis,¡± Jack said, nodding. ¡°Could turn himself or another, invisible.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, he often abused that power in a most dastardly manner.¡±


    Jack leaned in, his voice dropping lower as he almost growled, ¡°What did he do?¡±


    ¡°Rumour only,¡± Peter said, raising his hands almost defensively. ¡°No one knows for certain.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    I could feel the tension in Jack¡¯s voice, and I glanced at him with some alarm. It seemed almost like he knew what Peter was about to say but just needed him to give voice to it to confirm his suspicions.


    Whatever it was, it distressed him a great deal. If he were a dog, his hackles would have been up as he bared his fangs.


    I trembled, though from excitement or fear, I couldn¡¯t say.


    ¡°Just say it,¡± Jack said, and Peter sighed.


    ¡°Have you heard of young, Cerys Naddair.¡±


    Jack¡¯s skin was pale, and he shook his head, muttering something I couldn¡¯t hear. His large hands curled into fists, and it seemed to be everything he could do not to lash out and hit something¡­ or someone.


    ¡°Who is that?¡± I asked, my voice barely more than a hushed whisper. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    Peter reached out, patting my hand gentle with his own. I had the momentary realisation of how cold it was, before he spoke, a single word, but one that made my own flesh run cold too.


    Gwiber.

 Chapter 8

    I awoke with a headache and the skin of my face and lower arms, red and itchy from being out in the sun too long. It was minor damage and would heal on its own in a few days, so I did my best to ignore it as I spent the morning cleaning my flat and tidying up after the past few too busy days.


    Peter had kept us until the early hours of the morning spinning colourful tales of a long life well lived. After a short time, I¡¯d begun to enjoy myself and had indulged in his generosity, drinking several glasses of wine, each one more incredible than the last.


    The only thing Peter had seemed to want in return was for me to describe everything about them. The aroma, the taste, the feel on my tongue.


    I was only too happy to oblige, tasting vintages so exquisitely rare that I suspected even my father hadn¡¯t had the chance to taste them. All while Jack got steadily drunker and more morose as the night wore on.


    By the time I left, he was propping himself up and muttering to himself while Peter promised to watch over him.


    A strange night, when all was said and done.


    Still, since Jack hadn¡¯t offered any suggestion of working, I was left with a Sunday to myself and little to do.


    After I¡¯d finished tidying, I managed a load of laundry and made a kale salad for my lunch. I wasn¡¯t particularly hungry, and I picked at it for a while before abandoning it.


    With a sigh, I scraped off the plate into the bin and washed up before heading over to my sofa and dropping onto it, putting my feet up as I crossed my arms behind my head and stared at the ceiling while I went over the conversation of last night.


    Gwiber.


    A name that inspired fear in some places even centuries after the last recorded encounter. That there was a family of them living in York was remarkable. That there was a family of them that wasn¡¯t known about by the covens and eradicated was even more so.


    Out of all those most hated races of the supernatural world, the Gwiber were second only to my own.


    The library was closed, not that it would have been much help, and even if it wasn¡¯t, my car was still at the office, so I had limited transport to get anywhere. What I would have given, though, for access to my family¡¯s library of the occult and mythological.


    Or the family history, as my cousin had once remarked snarkily.


    I smiled at that memory. Jamie. He¡¯d been one of the few who would even speak to me without being forced to and he¡¯d never belittled me or been mean like the others. He¡¯d not spent his days reminding me of what I was like Elspeth, or threatening to reveal what I was like, Robert.


    No. He had been kind, and sweet, and the closest thing to a friend I had in that family.


    Another sigh, the memories turning my mood dark as I lay there, and I pushed myself up. I needed to be doing something, and there was one thing I absolutely had to do.


    My attempt at disposing of Kenny¡¯s body had been rushed, and I couldn¡¯t be sure of how well I had done. While it was a risk to visit that place again, especially in daylight, it was something I was sure I needed to do.


    Especially since I was working with a werewolf who could smell my scent all over the damned rubbish bags and ground around the dumpsite. From what I¡¯d seen, he was good at his job and like a dog with a bone when it came to a mystery.


    No pun intended.


    With a groan, I levered myself off the sofa and went in search of shoes. Then, once dressed, I grabbed my purse and my keys and headed for the door.


    Tilly, for once, was nowhere to be found and as much as I liked the bubbly girl, I needed some alone time, so I hurried out of the building and along the road before she heard the movement and came in search of me.


    Since I had no clue what times the buses were, I decided to walk into town. The morning sunshine was warm on my skin and my mood was high. There were few people about on the streets, most of them enjoying the warm weather in their gardens judging by the smell of barbecuing meat, and the laughter and general noise of people coming from houses all around me as I walked.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    That brought a touch of sorrow, and longing for a family life I had never had.


    Father had done the best he could, but his life was tied intrinsically to the family business, and that had come with responsibilities and ties he could not shake. Far too often I had spent weekends at Grandmothers house, being ignored by uncles and aunts, and tormented by my cousins.


    The only truly happy times I had were at our modest home, with the friends I made amongst the human kids. Children who couldn¡¯t understand what I was or hate and fear me for it. They were the type of people who could just accept me for¡­ me.


    High school had led to college, and then university and I had thought I might have a chance of a real life, away from my extended family.


    Then Father had died.


    With his death had gone any pretence made by my family and I was forced to flee. To hide. To become someone new.


    Emma Grey.


    A sigh escaped me, and I shook my head, clearing them of those intrusive and unpleasant thoughts.


    I had a new chance now, and the past was just that, the past. I¡¯d made a friend in Tilly, and Jack was the kind of man I could enjoy working with. I was sure I¡¯d learn a lot and perhaps, one day, I could even become an investigator myself.


    The idea appealed more than I¡¯d imagined it would just a few days ago.


    A frown formed on my brow as I turned the corner and paused. There was my car where I¡¯d left it, and Jack¡¯s jeep too, along with a black car I didn¡¯t recognise. I couldn¡¯t imagine him driving drunk, so assumed he¡¯d been out already to retrieve it.


    I hesitated beside my little mini and glanced up at the building, eyes scanning the windows until I located Jack¡¯s office.


    It was open, though I couldn¡¯t hear anything from where I was three floors below.


    For a long moment I debated with myself whether I should go up. While I had to go and check on Kenny¡¯s remains, I couldn¡¯t shake the thought that I needed to know where Jack was with the investigation.


    I needed to be kept fully in the loop, else I might well find myself suspect number one, without even realising it.


    I headed inside.


    Heavy footsteps on the stairs were the only warning I had, and I ducked into the dim shadows at the bottom of the stairwell and held my breath.


    A large man came down, polished shoes appearing before trouser clad legs and large hands curled into casual fists. Broad shoulders and a neat beard along with dark glasses completed the picture and I shrank back, desperately wanting to remain unseen.


    At the bottom of the stairs, Lucas adjusted his cuffs and smoothed his jacket, his polished shoes clicking on the floor. His dark glasses concealed his eyes, but his posture was tense as he glanced around before pushing through the stairwell door.


    I exhaled a sharp breath, whispering thanks for the shadows before hurrying up the stairs two at a time, I moved quickly to the office door and pushed it open before slipping inside.


    I let out a yelp, my cheeks burning crimson as Jack looked over from where he stood behind his desk.


    Dark curls framed his chest, tapering into a line down his sculped abs, drawing my gaze before I caught myself. My eyes went round, and I spun, cheeks aflame.


    ¡°You¡¯re naked!¡± I squealed.


    Impressively so.


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t expecting you,¡± Jack said, apparently entirely unperturbed.


    I turned my head, just enough that I could speak clearly to him and not at all so that I could catch another glimpse of his more than impressive form from the corner of my eye.


    ¡°Sorry, I came for my car. Figured I¡¯d check in on you.¡±


    Jack pulled his pants on, and I sighed. All that did was remind me of what was beneath them.


    He opened a drawer and pulled out a folded t-shirt and slipped it on. It was too tight across the chest and around his biceps, and I couldn¡¯t slow my wandering thoughts as I licked suddenly dry lips and tried to slow my breathing.


    The werewolf chuckled in a way that suggested he knew exactly what was going on with me and I cringed, hoping for the floor to collapse and take me with it.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he said, then paused. ¡°Thanks though.¡±


    ¡°No problem,¡± I squeaked.


    He finished dressing and I turned back around, fanning my cheeks that still burned crimson. ¡°Hot in here,¡± I muttered, ignoring Jack¡¯s amused expression. ¡°Do you want-¡° I closed my eyes, drew a deep breath and tried again. ¡°Do you need me today?¡±


    ¡°I need to run,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re welcome to join me. Can¡¯t do much until dark anyway.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    His amusement faded and his eyes got a hard look to them as he pressed his knuckles down against the desk, leaning forward. ¡°I know where the Gwiber are.¡±


    ¡°Where?¡±


    ¡°North of the city, a farm near the River Ouse.¡±


    ¡°Why visit them after dark?¡± I asked, a rush of fear driving away any other feelings that I may have been feeling.


    ¡°They¡¯re not welcoming,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m going to need you to go in and talk to them.¡±


    That surprised me, and I stared at him, wide-eyed as I digested that. ¡°Me!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be close,¡± he promised. ¡°You¡¯ll be safe. I assure you.¡±


    ¡°But, why me?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll not listen to me.¡± His lips twisted into a sneer. ¡°I¡¯ve tried before.¡±


    His expression made it clear that he didn¡¯t want to talk about it, but I didn¡¯t care. I needed to know if I wasn¡¯t going to go in there blind.


    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± I said, keeping my voice as firm as I could. ¡°I¡¯m going to need to know if I¡¯m to be useful.¡±


    He stared back at me for some time as he considered, and I was proud of myself for not looking away. Finally, he gave a curt nod.


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    Then he began to talk, and as he did, I felt a mounting horror. A feeling of deep-seated anguish and helplessness as he told that sordid tale, and I sank onto the desk, knees shaking as the full horror of what he was telling me sank in.


    When he was done, I wasn¡¯t surprised to find tears in my eyes, and for the first time since it had happened, I wasn¡¯t feeling guilty for killing Kenny.


    In fact, I wished I could do it again.

 Chapter 9

    Dalby Forest lay of the southern slopes of the North York Moors. 8000 acres of dense forests, open meadows and rugged valleys that created a diverse and secluded landscape.


    Or at least that¡¯s what the pamphlet told me. I tossed it to one side and climbed out of the jeep, breathing in the clean, forest air.


    ¡°Lot of pine trees,¡± Jack said, pulling off his t-shirt to reveal that well-sculpted physique once again. ¡°Some spruce, oak, beech and birch.¡±


    Okay?


    I gave him a look that suggested I had no idea what he was talking about, and he flashed a grin.


    Then he pulled his pants down.


    Oh gosh!


    I fanned my face with one hand as I tried to look everywhere but straight at him. ¡°Don¡¯t werewolves have any modesty?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡± He shrugged in a way that had my heart racing and laughed. ¡°You¡¯re a city girl, right? I¡¯m just telling you what trees you¡¯ll see.¡±


    ¡°You think I¡¯m going into the forest?¡±


    It was kind¡¯a hard to give him a querying look when he was naked but somehow, I managed.


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    I screwed up my nose and shook my head as I lifted a hand and counted off points on my fingers.


    ¡°So, let me get this straight. Go into a heavy forest with no one around for miles. With a werewolf. In full wolf form. And¡­ what, you gonna suggest I try a little run too?¡±


    His laughter echoed from the trees, warm and robust, full of life. Small birds fluttered from the nearby trees in response, and the undergrowth rustled as the forest life ran for it.


    They were smart enough to recognise the sound of an apex predator. Even in its laughter.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t there, like, hikers and stuff you can stalk instead?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re further north,¡± he said, still grinning like a loon. ¡°These trails are largely unused so not many hikers.¡±


    ¡°Okay, so I¡¯m the only potential victim around then?¡±


    ¡°You will be safe,¡± he assured me and as I looked into those deep, brown, eyes. I actually believed him.


    ¡°Damn, I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m gonna do this.¡±


    He cricked his neck and stretched, grunting as he pulled at tight muscles.


    ¡°I need this,¡± he said, voice soft, almost gentle. ¡°I can control myself enough not to harm you, but I need the chase. The hunt. You get that?¡±


    Yeah, I kind of did. Not that it made it any easier for me to imagine doing what I was about to do. I exhaled softly and shook my head.


    ¡°Okay. Fine. But if you bite me, I¡¯m taking you to the vet.¡±


    ¡°Trust me,¡± his voice said, while his grin told me something entirely different.


    I had no worry about being turned by a bite, and I was pretty sure he couldn¡¯t kill me. At least not without a hell of a lot more effort than he would be willing to put into it. One of the peculiarities of my race, we were damned hard to kill.


    Or so I¡¯d been told. Not like I¡¯d actually tested that theory.


    ¡°There¡¯s a winding stream, a couple of miles that way,¡± Jack said, pointing east. ¡°You reach it before I catch you and I¡¯ll buy you dinner.¡±


    I cocked an eyebrow at that and eyed him askance, a smile playing on my lips. ¡°You sure? I have expensive tastes.¡±


    ¡°Aye, I saw those wines you drank last night.¡± He laughed happily. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I think you¡¯ll enjoy what I buy you.¡±


    ¡°Planned it already, have you?¡±


    Now that was interesting.


    ¡°Set off,¡± he said, shooing me away. ¡°Will take me a good fifteen minutes to change. That¡¯s your only head start.¡±


    I didn¡¯t need any further urging. Running a couple of miles in boots, on the flat, would have taken me more than fifteen minutes. In dense forest with no real path and uneven terrain. I was looking at an hour at least.


    That gave him 45 minutes to chase me down and catch me.


    Not much chance of him buying me dinner then.


    My breathing was shallow, coming in gasps, a lot sooner than I¡¯d expected. I¡¯d left my purse in the jeep, which was something, freeing up my arms but I was no seasoned runner, and I wasn¡¯t dressed for it.


    The fact was, my trim figure was more down to diet than exercise and the last time I¡¯d run a mile had been in high school.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Thank goodness I¡¯d never taken up smoking.


    I ducked a low branch and yelped as I almost twisted my ankle on a loose rock that shifted beneath my foot as I stepped on it. I stumbled and pushed aside the branches of a pine tree and headed uphill.


    Sweat ran down my face and stuck my hair to my head as I reached the top of the incline, puffing and panting. I gripped a tuft of grass and pulled myself the rest of the way and stood, breathing deep with hands on hips as I waited for my heart to stop hammering in my chest.


    A howl came from somewhere in the forest, echoing through the valleys and trees. A shiver ran down my spine at the sound and I felt a faint stab of spear. Some genetic memory in the lizard part of my brain screaming that was the sound of terror.


    I set up running along the crest of the hill and then down, stumbling and arms windmilling as I nearly fell. I made it to the bottom and stumbled through a bush, the thorns pulling at my jeans and nicking my hand.


    Cursing, I wiped it almost angrily against my leg and pushed on into the forest. The light grew dimmer as the thick screen of branches overhead grew thicker. There was rustling in the underbrush and birds singing in the trees, oblivious or uncaring about my presence.


    Then they stopped.


    So did I.


    Pressing myself back against a tree I sucked in a breath and held it, squeezing my eyes shut as Jack made no attempt to hide his passage through the trees and bushes.


    A flash of dark fur, there and gone again in an instant, and he was past.


    I blinked. Surprised.


    Then took advantage of it and set off running at an angle, away from Jack but still towards the general direction of the stream.


    Twice more, I heard the crashing of the big wolf moving through the underbrush, and each time I ducked behind a tree or bush and hid.


    The second time, I finally had a good look at him.


    He was huge and utterly striking.


    Standing in the small open space, the sunlight forming a halo around him, he had an almost overwhelming presence. Larger than any dog, but unmistakably unnatural in his proportions, he stood hunched, yet retaining a towering height.


    His frame rippled with unnatural muscle. Broad shoulders and elongated limbs beneath coarse dark fur.


    The face was a blend of man and wolf, with a broad lupine muzzle that hung open as he panted, revealing jagged oversized teeth. His eyes shone almost golden, lit from within by an ethereal glow. There was no hiding the human intelligence there.


    Pointed ears swivelled, capturing every sound, while his powerful claws dug deep into the forest floor.


    I shivered, excitement mixed with fear. He was beautiful, strong and powerful with a predatory grace.


    My first instinct was to flee, but I forced it back, knowing there was no way I could outrun him. All I could do was hide and hope he couldn¡¯t smell me.


    A sound off to my right had him cocking his head, ears swivelling towards the sound and then he was off, running, lithe and almost silent until he crashed through the heavy lower branches of a pine tree as though they were made of paper.


    I stared, open mouthed, for a long moment before I shook myself and set off running once more.


    He was the first werewolf I had seen in the real world. All of my knowledge of his race came from books that were filled with more myth than real accounts.


    It was a moment I would remember for some time, I was sure.


    Soon enough, the sound of running water came to me and I pumped my arms harder, breathing coming in shallow gasps as I pushed on, determined to reach the stream before Jack did.


    Then I was flying across the ground. I hit the forest floor with a gasp, rolling across fallen leaves and branches as Jack bounded after me.


    He darted in, nipping almost playfully at me as I rolled to my feet. He leapt back as I swung around towards him and rushed back in, warm nose touching the back of my hand before he was away, out of my reach, tongue lolling as though he was laughing.


    ¡°Dick!¡± I muttered, recognising the humour in those eyes.


    Another playful leap, wet tongue running over my fingers before I jerked my hand back and glared at him.


    He was definitely laughing at me.


    ¡°Fine,¡± I snapped. ¡°You win!¡±


    Lifting his head, he trotted forward, eyes fixed on mine. I lifted my hand, holding it out to him as though he were any other kind of dog that I was encountering.


    As soon as he stepped in close, I stooped and threw my arms around him, laughing as I intended to lift him and toss him on his ass.


    But nothing happened.


    I grunted and he turned his head, puzzled, to look back at me as I strained.


    ¡°The hell?¡±


    He might as well have been made of iron for all the chance I had of moving him. It was the first time since I¡¯d developed my abilities that I had found my strength lacking. I stared at him, nonplussed, and shook my head.


    My strength was gone.


    ¡°What the hell is going on?¡±


    Jack, unsurprisingly, gave no answer, though his tail wagged as he turned his head this way and that, trying to figure out what the problem was. He watched me a moment longer and then turned and trotted away into the underbrush.


    I understood what he was doing and rather than try to see him in that unnatural state in-between man and monster, I pushed my way through the trees towards the stream.


    There, I settled on the banking and took my shoes off before letting my feet dangle into the pure, clean, waters of the stream and I stared down at my hands.


    Something had changed and I¡¯d not even realised it.


    How long had it been since my strength had left me?


    I¡¯d had it when I broke Kenny¡¯s wrist, and it had been the only reason I¡¯d been able to dismember his body and carry it to the place I¡¯d dumped it.


    But after that. Sometime.


    All had changed.


    For the first time in a long while, I felt lost and very alone. My father would have been the one I¡¯d turned to for help and he was gone. My family despised me for something I had no control over, and my only real friend in the world was a human girl who wouldn¡¯t understand.


    How then could I figure out what it meant?


    ¡°Em,¡± Jack said, stepping out from the trees.


    And, he was naked again.


    I rolled my eyes.


    ¡°As much as I really do enjoy seeing you without your clothes on, I think I need you to stay behind me for now,¡± I said. ¡°Please.¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡± He chuckled softly. ¡°Wolves don¡¯t tend to notice. I forget that others do.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s cool, just¡­ not now, yeah.¡±


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± he paused. ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­ hurt you, did I?¡±


    The sincere concern in his voice almost broke me.


    How long had it been since anyone had been that concerned about anything to do with me?


    Not since my dad.


    I brushed at my eyes and sniffled a little. ¡°Something¡¯s wrong,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve lost my strength.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t happen.¡± Small branches crunched beneath his feet as he shifted position.


    I threw my arms up and scoffed, ¡°Clearly it bloody well does!¡± I turned my head, looking back at him, the anger I felt burning away any embarrassment at his nudity. ¡°I¡¯m a Ghoul! A bottom feeding piece of trash! The one thing I had was my strength, the ability to protect myself. Now I don¡¯t even have that!¡±


    There was no stopping the tears that sprang to my cheeks, and I swiped at them angrily.


    ¡°Do you know how that feels? No, of course, you bloody don¡¯t because you¡¯re the big bad bloody wolf!¡±


    He stared at me, a stupid look of bemusement on his too handsome face, and I wanted to scream at him. Unleash all of my pent-up anger and frustration of the past few months regardless of how fair that was.


    Then he spoke.


    ¡°What made you think you were a Ghoul?¡±


    And my world flipped upside down.

 Chapter 10

    Ghoul.


    Even the word left a foul taste on my tongue.


    My earliest memories were of my cousins taunting me, looking at me with disgust as they teased and spat that word at me.


    Ghoul. How I despised that name.


    I¡¯d once searched the family library, looking for understanding of why I was so despised by people who were supposed to love and accept me. I¡¯d found nothing reassuring.


    Often depicted as grotesque, humanoid creatures with decayed or emaciated bodies. Ther skin pale, sometimes grey, resembling the corpses on which they fed to maintain some semblance of life. They were strong, their bodies regenerating from wounds made by conventional means, and some could mimic human voices to lure in prey.


    I¡¯d never had a talent with mimicry, but from my earliest days I couldn¡¯t stomach any meat but that provided by my father. It wasn¡¯t until I was older that he¡¯d told me where it came from, and I had found a whole new level of self-disgust and loathing as I realised, I¡¯d been eating human flesh.


    And how much I enjoyed it.


    My skin tended to stubbornly refuse to tan, remaining pale, and I had always had a supernatural strength that was the only thing that stopped all but the eldest cousin from attacking me physically.


    Why then, would I not believe I was a Ghoul?


    What else could I be?


    I looked at Jack and wondered that very thing, staring, mouth agape as I sought to calm the chaos in my mind long enough to focus on asking a single question.


    Jack, seeing my hurt and confusion, knelt, keeping his distance as he gave me a steadying look. I stared into his eyes, lost and feeling very alone, and without warning they began to glow.


    Mine responded, and I turned my head.


    ¡°No,¡± Jack said, voice calm and yet firm. ¡°Let me see.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t see the change to my eyes, not without a mirror, but I knew what he would see. The iris turning a black so deep that all light seemed to be drawn in, my eye sockets becoming shadowed and even the whites of my eyes darkening as though infected by the black of the iris.


    There was an ugliness to it, deeply unsettling to observe and eliciting cries of disgust and grimaces from those who saw the change.


    ¡°Beautiful,¡± Jack said, and I blinked, brows drawing down in confusion and hurt.


    ¡°Do not mock me.¡±


    His grin was lopsided, and his eyes shone almost golden as he stared into mine, unblinking and refusing to look away.


    ¡°No mockery.¡± He ran a hand through the tangled matt of hair on his head. ¡°It¡¯s like everything I am is being drawn into you through those obsidian orbs.¡±


    I blinked at that. Huh?


    No one had ever told me anything like that. Even my father had avoided looking at them whenever they¡¯d changed, though for him I had always suspected it was because they reminded him of my mother.


    Of what had happened to her.


    ¡°You are no Ghoul,¡± he declared.


    ¡°How can you know?¡± I thought back to the first meeting in his office just a few short days ago, that seemed like an age. ¡°I asked you, in your office, if you knew what I was, and you told me you did.¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    I stared at him, unblinking, until it became clear he wasn¡¯t about to expand upon that.


    ¡°What am I then?¡± I snapped.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    Intolerable!


    ¡°Why are you messing with me?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± He grunted, shoulders rolling as he shifted position, relaxing tense muscles. ¡°I thought I knew.¡±


    ¡°You thought I was a ghoul?¡±


    ¡°Something in that racial grouping.¡± A shrug of those broad shoulders. ¡°I was wrong.¡±


    ¡°So, you could be wrong about me not being a Ghoul?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± He scratched his cheek and tilted his head, eyes narrowing as he looked at me. ¡°You¡¯re definitely not a Ghoul.¡±


    ¡°Then what am I?¡± I repeated, my voice almost a wail.


    ¡°Something else.¡±


    It made no sense. My family had been adamant about what I was. It had been the primary cause of their disgust and hatred of me, and if anyone were to know what I was, it would be them. Why would they lie to me?


    ¡°Maybe they had a reason,¡± Jack said, and I gave a start, realising I¡¯d asked the question out loud.


    I released the colour from my eyes and felt that shift that told me they had returned to normal. Jack followed suit, and he rose to his full height, looking around and then up at the blue sky above.


    ¡°We should get back to the car.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°Jeep,¡± I murmured, and he flashed a grin.


    ¡°Aye.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve lost my strength,¡± I reminded him. ¡°Something¡¯s changed and I need to figure out what.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know someone who might help.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t like him.¡±


    ¡°How can you know that?¡±


    ¡°Because no one likes him.¡± He laughed, and I gave him a quizzical look. He just shook that shaggy head. ¡°I was gonna take him the box we found at Kennys so he could open it.¡±


    ¡°A witch then?¡±


    I definitely didn¡¯t want to meet any witches if I could avoid them.


    ¡°Warlock,¡± he said, and I grimaced.


    Great. That was worse.


    We set off walking back towards the car, Jack keeping a respectful distance and leaving me to organise my thoughts. Not that there was much to organise. Everything remained stubbornly jumbled and I was so confused about my own situation, that I gave up and pushed all thoughts of it aside.


    Instead, I wondered about the investigation.


    A Witch would have been trouble. Unlike those who formed covens, the hedge-witches didn¡¯t necessarily have a large amount of power. Some of them were decent enough people, but most were absolute pricks who cared only about themselves.


    They were hungry for power and wealth and were all too willing to use their magical gifts to gain more of both. Though, they were constrained by skill and the amount of magic they could control. Which is why the especially smart ones formed covens.


    Not that that didn¡¯t come with risks and challenges of its own. A coven required a level of personal vulnerability that most witches wouldn¡¯t trust another with. Which is why most covens were family affairs and ruled with an iron fist.


    Still, even a lone witch was trouble, and they could sniff out lies and falsehoods far easier even than a werewolf PI.


    A Warlock was something else entirely.


    Their power wasn¡¯t innate, like a witches was. Any power they had was barely enough to perform the rites and rituals that gave them access to a patron, a demonic being who would grant them a boon of powerful magic in exchange for a price.


    From what I knew, the first bargain was fairly easy to make, and the price paid for the power was something small and easy to get. But the power granted was finite, and once it ran out, another bargain was needed to be made and the price to be paid was higher each time, until it reached the point where the only thing left to give, was the Warlock¡¯s own soul.


    Considering what would happen to that soul, no sane person would make that deal.


    I shivered at the thought.


    ¡°Let me just get dressed and we¡¯ll set off,¡± Jack said as we stepped out of the trees and caught sight of the jeep at the bottom of the incline.


    I glanced at him and managed a small grin of my own. ¡°Don¡¯t rush on my behalf.¡±


    His laughter echoed through the trees and together we made our way down the hill. I climbed into the passenger seat of the jeep while Jack quickly dressed. He settled into the driver¡¯s seat and reached over to a cooler in the back and pulled out a can of coke which he passed to me.


    It was cold and most welcome, and I smiled my thanks as I opened it and took a long drink.


    ¡°God, I needed that.¡±


    ¡°Aye, me too,¡± Jack agreed. He drank from his can and settled back into the seat. ¡°Thanks, by the way.¡±


    ¡°For what?¡±


    ¡°The chase.¡± He smiled, eyes distant. ¡°In wolf form, our instinct is to hunt. If I don¡¯t, I start to get a bit antsy.¡±


    Like I did when I didn¡¯t eat the flesh of the dead. I could understand that feeling at least, and we both faced the same problem if we didn¡¯t scratch that itch. Or did we?


    I¡¯d thought that without eating human flesh, I would become dangerous. Feral. Aggressive and violent, lashing out at anyone around me until I ate.


    Father had warned me about not eating and what would happen if I ever entered that feral state. How the covens would come for me. Hunt me down. Kill me.


    A soft sigh escaped me, and I sipped at the coke, allowing myself a moment to enjoy the cold beverage and a brief respite before I needed to return to the task at hand.


    Hunting down a killer, who happened to be me, figuring out why I had lost my strength, and finally knowing what I was.


    My life was a mess.


    No matter how I looked at it, there wasn¡¯t a way for me to deflect the suspicion away from myself without implicating someone else. Which was a problem, considering Kenny¡¯s father, Marko, would likely rain down fiery retribution on anyone implicated.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t beat me to the stream,¡± Jack said, finishing his drink. ¡°But how about I buy you dinner anyway.¡±


    I glanced at him, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth as I cocked a brow at him. ¡°I thought we were going to see the Gwiber?


    He shrugged. ¡°Tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°What about finding Kenny?¡±


    ¡°He can wait.¡± Another shrug as he started the jeep. ¡°Man¡¯s a piece of shit anyway. If he¡¯s as dead as I hope he is, he¡¯ll wait.¡±


    The twist of his lips as he said that told me he meant what he said and that he truly didn¡¯t like Kenny. Which, considering what he¡¯d told me, I could well understand.


    ¡°Why are you working so hard to find him?¡± I asked, curious.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t like the guy and he¡¯s an objectively terrible person who has done some truly evil things. Why are you even bothering to look for him?¡±


    Jack was silent for a moment, chewing his lower lip as he considered his response. Finally, he glanced at me. ¡°It¡¯s the job.¡±


    Just that.


    I considered that for a little while as we drove away from Dalby Forest, and if I was honest with myself, I wasn¡¯t entirely happy with the answer. I understood it, sure, but I didn¡¯t like it.


    In just the few days I¡¯d known him, Jack had proven himself to be different to everything I¡¯d ever read about werewolves. He was kind, compassionate and incredibly honourable.


    Which meant it didn¡¯t sit right, the idea that he would take on any job he didn¡¯t want to do.


    ¡°No,¡± I said, and he glanced at me again and then back at the road.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe it¡¯s just the job. There has to be another reason.¡±


    Again, he was silent, and I bit down on my lip to hold back from saying anything else, letting him think.


    ¡°York is neutral,¡± he said, finally. ¡°There¡¯s no coven here.¡±


    I knew that. It was one of the main reasons I¡¯d chosen the city to hide in.


    ¡°They stay out because they know that people need a place free of their control. Somewhere all the rebellious types can gather and bitch about how evil the covens are, instead of actively causing problems, yeah?¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°Well, that only happens because there are no problems.¡± He managed a quick smile. ¡°What is the number one rule of the covens?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t expose the supernatural world,¡± I said, by rote. It was drummed into every non-human child as soon as they were old enough to understand what it meant.


    ¡°Yes, and why do we have that rule?¡±


    ¡°Because despite the powers many of our community have, we wouldn¡¯t survive in a war with the humans. We lost once before, and it almost destroyed us all.¡±


    It did destroy many races. Not all of us survived and it had taken millennia to reach the point where we could exist in secret with everything about us being thought of as nothing more than myth and legend.


    ¡°Good,¡± Jack said, nodding. ¡°I think Kenny¡¯s dead, and to be honest, I don¡¯t give a shit about that. But, his dad does.¡±


    I thought about that and gave a small grunt of acknowledgement to what he hadn¡¯t said.


    ¡°You need to find who killed him and bring him in so Marko doesn¡¯t expose us trying to get revenge, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s it,¡± Jack agreed. ¡°Anyone in the city exposes us, and the covens will come in and crack down hard. They have too much to lose by being exposed. They will wipe this city off the map before they allow that to happen.¡±


    It would be a tough job explaining the destruction on an entire city of 130,000 people, but they could do it. Which was the scariest part of it all. The covens were that powerful, that integrated into the political and business sectors, that they could do it without arousing suspicion.


    Plague, fire or floor. Some natural disaster that people wouldn¡¯t really be able to explain and would investigate. Not that it would matter. Funding would be cut, aid redirected, media manipulated and even government ministers and politicians coming out and reassuring the public it was a one-off disaster and wouldn¡¯t happen again.


    A web of lies.


    ¡°So, you have to find Kenny¡¯s killer,¡± I said, voice quiet. I couldn¡¯t help feeling a hollow pang in my chest at the idea.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Jack said. ¡°And I will, too.¡±


    I glanced at him and managed to force a smile. I believed him. And that scared the hell out of me.

 Chapter 11

    ¡°I¡¯ll be back in an hour,¡± Jack said as I climbed out of the jeep outside my building. I glanced up and caught a grinning Tilly staring at me from her window.


    ¡°How should I dress?¡±


    ¡°Casual,¡± he said, and I closed the door, lifting a hand to wave as he drove off.


    I climbed the stairs wearily and was entirely unsurprised to see Tilly waiting outside my door.


    ¡°Who¡¯s the hot guy?¡± She asked.


    It was hard to dispute her assessment, though ¡®hot¡¯ didn¡¯t truly convey how attractive Jack actually was.


    ¡°My boss,¡± I said. ¡°Just dropped me off to change and he¡¯s coming back to pick me up.¡±


    ¡°You going anywhere special?¡± She asked, waggling her eyebrows as she followed me into my flat. I gave her a quizzical look and then glanced at the door but if she got my hint, she gave no indication as she dropped onto the sofa.


    I closed the door with a sigh, too tired to argue. It had been an emotionally taxing day so far and I wasn¡¯t sure I had the energy to even eat, let alone socialise.


    ¡°Headed out for food,¡± I said, dropping my keys onto the ceramic plate on the small table beside the door. ¡°Going to grab a shower.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll wait.¡±


    Okay then.


    I left her picking over my magazine selection and went into my bedroom. I undressed quickly and showered off the dirt of the day. I stayed under the water for as long as I reasonably good, enjoying the feeling of the heat against my skin and the silence of my bathroom, where I didn¡¯t need to think, or worry, even if just for a short time.


    Eventually though, I finished up and towelled off before heading back to my room, brushing my hair as I considered what I would wear.


    Was it a date?


    I had no idea.


    He¡¯d said to dress casually, but that didn¡¯t mean he wasn¡¯t thinking about it being more than just dinner. He wouldn¡¯t be the first boss to try and sleep with an employee, after all.


    So, matching underwear or not?


    I mean, it wasn¡¯t like I was some chaste virgin. I¡¯d had boyfriends before. I¡¯d had sex before.


    Just never with a werewolf, and the things I¡¯d read about them was¡­ well¡­ eye opening.


    Werewolves had the vitality of youth far longer than most. They were naturally inclined to good health, and that impressive physique that Jack had would have come far easier than it would for any human.


    Stronger, faster, and with a hell of a lot of stamina, they were considered to be a great lay by those who had made a study of such things.


    I was currently none of those things. A weak, neurotic mess, with more baggage than an airport luggage carousel.


    Hardly a great catch by any measure.


    ¡°You okay in there?¡± Tilly called, knocking on my bedroom door. ¡°You¡¯ve been a while.¡±


    I sighed and wrapped a large towel around me. It was large enough to cover me from chest to mid-thigh, and I tied it tight before pulling open the door.


    ¡°No,¡± I said, to a smiling Tilly. ¡°I am really not okay.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s up, chick?¡±


    She followed me into my bedroom, and I explained the situation as best I could to a human. The werewolf chase through the forest became a friendly race. The emotional breakdown, due entirely to a family history I didn¡¯t want to disclose.


    I explained his compassion, his kindness, and his apparent interest. I didn¡¯t need to mention the strong jawline even his thick beard couldn¡¯t hide, or the way his shirt clung to the muscles of his chest and stomach.


    Even though that was all I could apparently think of right then.


    ¡°So,¡± I said. ¡°What do I do?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re joking, right?¡± she scoffed. ¡°He¡¯s hot as hell. You jump him as soon as you get the chance.¡±


    Well, that was no help at all.


    ¡°I¡¯m not like that,¡± I muttered. ¡°He¡¯s, my boss.¡±


    ¡°Who cares?¡± She laughed and crossed to the wardrobe. ¡°Look, it¡¯s the nineties. Go get what you want, girl.¡±


    ¡°Casual sex isn¡¯t really my thing.¡±


    All of my sexual relationships had started as firmly committed boyfriend-girlfriend relationships first. It worked for me. I was comfortable with both of those boyfriends before we¡¯d reached that stage, and that was what I needed.


    There was so much else in my life that was full of chaos. Comfort was vastly underrated by people.


    Tilly pulled out a dress and looked it over critically before hanging it back on the rail. She clucked her tongue as she sorted through the few items I had in the closet and turned back to me with a look of displeasure.


    ¡°You need to update your wardrobe.¡±


    ¡°He said, casual,¡± I pointed out. ¡°Jeans and shirt are fine.¡±


    ¡°Even so, you seriously need to go shopping.¡±


    ¡°Aye, when I get paid.¡±


    ¡°No idea how you can live with such a small selection,¡± she tutted, and turned her critical look on me. ¡°I think most of my tops will be a bit loose on you, but I have a couple that could work.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I said, laughing. ¡°Thank you though.¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Just looking out for you.¡± She smiled brightly and headed to the door. ¡°I¡¯ll let you get dressed.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± I said as she reached for the door handle. ¡°So¡­ doesn¡¯t matter if my knickers and bra match, yeah?¡±


    The gorgeous young woman laughed and shook her head, dark curls almost seeming to shiver. ¡°If he¡¯s into you, he really won¡¯t care.¡±


    With that sage advice, she headed back to the living room closing the door behind her. I chewed my lower lip and pulled open the top drawer of my dresser.


    Sure, it didn¡¯t matter, but it did. Really. And, as my father had often said, better to be prepared than not.


    Decision made, I glanced at my watch and dressed quickly. Jeans and a plain black top with a low enough neckline that I showed hints of what little I had there. Knee high boats with a slight heel for my feet, and a quick application of makeup before I ran the brush through my almost dry hair.


    Once ready, I headed back to out join Tilly who had a beer ready and waiting for me. I took it with a smile of thanks and sank into the armchair.


    ¡°Not sure I¡¯m ready for this.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine.¡± Tilly grinned and sipped her beer. ¡°Can always send him my way if you decide you¡¯re not interested.¡±


    The problem was that I didn¡¯t know if I was interested or not.


    It was complicated, and there were a lot of complex feelings I was dealing with about the whole situation. I mean, if he discovered that I was the one who killed Kenny then that was bound to change things.


    Not to mention my current lack of strength and confusion over just what I was.


    Then there was the cannibalism.


    Okay, it wasn¡¯t technically cannibalism, but really it was.


    Would take a lot to be interested in me for anything more than a quick shag.


    I sighed and gulped down the beer as Tilly watched with amusement.


    ¡°Go easy,¡± she chided. ¡°I know you¡¯re nervous, but you still have to be wary. You¡¯ve only known him a few days.¡±


    That was true too. An added extra bit of baggage to add to the ever-increasing pile of it that was a huge red flag against dating me.


    ¡°I need another beer.¡±


    The distant beep of a horn told me that wasn¡¯t going to happen, and I jumped up and headed to the window, looking out to see Jack¡¯s jeep far below.


    ¡°You need some perfume?¡± Tilly asked, rising.


    I shook my head. Werewolves had sensitive noses and perfume was, apparently, quite abrasive to them. They tended to prefer the natural body¡¯s odour.


    Or so I¡¯d read.


    I grabbed my jacket and purse and shooed Tilly out the door. She laughed and waved from the landing as I descended the stairs, and her good-natured encouragement followed me out the front door as I trotted over to the jeep.


    Jack sat inside, one arm resting on the open car window, as he smiled appreciatively.


    ¡°I said, casual.¡±


    I eyed his plain blue t-shirt and jeans critically. ¡°Sorry if my casual doesn¡¯t match your hobo aesthetic.¡±


    He laughed, and I lifted my chin, accepting victory in that brief verbal battle, and climbed into the jeep beside him.


    ¡°So, where we going?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡±


    Okay, I hated that.


    I set my jaw and folded my arms, pouting a little, as we set off, heading away from the city centre. I glance quizzically at him, but he gave nothing away, though the corners of his lips twitched in what might have been a smile.


    We drove out of the less than desirous area of Tang Hall, and into the even less so, Heworth. Gangs of kids roamed the streets, bored and looking for entertainment. The council houses were run down, the businesses we passed even more so.


    Graffiti covered fences and walls alike, while rubbish filled the gutters. Washing hung on lines in the front gardens, and stoney-faced people watched us warily as we drove past. Then we were out of the area and heading into the countryside.


    After a half an hour of driving, he pulled into paved yard of a farm.


    I frowned across at him and he gave me a grin that seemed to say, ¡®trust me¡¯ before he climbed out of the car. I followed after him and together we walked across to the farmhouse, a sprawling building with several storeys built of old stone.


    There was a new extension built on the right-hand side, and it was to there we went. I glanced back at the yard and the handful of cars parked there. Battered old clunkers, next to the shiny newest cars off the lot.


    A curious combination.


    When the door opened, it was held by a young girl, blonde curls and large brown eyes in a doll-like face. She smiled sweetly as she whispered her greetings.


    ¡°Reservation under Grim,¡± Jack said, and the girl nodded and crooked her finger, inviting us in.


    More confused than ever, Jack held the door for me, and I stepped into the dimly lit interior. A handful of round tables were set about the plain wooden floor, the people sitting at them talking quietly amongst themselves as they ate their meals.


    We were led through a curtained door, and I stayed close to Jack, his hand briefly touching the small of my back as he guided me confidently to a separate room, small and wood-panelled, with barely enough room for the two of us to sit. The table was set with placemats and napkins, cutlery and empty glasses.


    ¡°What is this place?¡± I whispered as the curious young girl handed Jack and menu and then departed without a word, closing the door behind us and leaving us in the gloom of the candles that flickered and danced on the table between us.


    ¡°It¡¯s a place designed for people like us,¡± Jack said, glancing at the menu briefly and passing it over.


    ¡°Which means, what?¡±


    Jack smiled and leant back against the wall, watching me. ¡°That all diets are catered for.¡±


    My eyebrows rose at that. It was not at all what I¡¯d been expecting.


    ¡°So, I could¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°Whatever meal you order, will have your¡­ preferred¡­ choice of meat.¡±


    ¡°Wow.¡±


    I whistled softly. That was not at all what I would have expected to find. Not just a place that would cater for the many and varied supernatural races, but one that was inclusive of those of our kind that had more specialized diets.


    A thought occurred to me, and I glanced around the small room. ¡°We¡¯re in here because of my dietary needs,¡± I guessed, not wanting to even say what those needs were out loud.


    ¡°Yes.¡± His smile was gentle and knowing. ¡°Not all of our community are welcoming of them.¡±


    Which I could understand. It wasn¡¯t like I was exactly welcoming of them. In fact, I only ate what I had to, because I had to. The alternative being far too unpleasant to consider.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, eyes shimmering. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you what it means that you would do something like this.¡±


    He shrugged, and smiled, his eyes sparkling as he watched me.


    ¡°Why are you doing this?¡± I asked, needing to know that I wasn¡¯t wrong, that there was something going on between us.


    ¡°Because you¡¯re interesting,¡± he said, his voice soft, and gentle, and so low that I had to lean forward to hear him clearly. ¡°I won¡¯t lie and claim to not be attracted to you.¡±


    That was bold, and I blinked, before swiping at my eyes with my hand.


    ¡°As soon as I saw you, I felt it,¡± he said. ¡°Didn¡¯t you?¡±


    No, I was far too exhausted and scared, and thinking of nothing more than finding a job to ensure I could survive another week.


    Not that I could say that.


    Instead, I smiled and reached out, taking his large hand in mine.


    ¡°I definitely feel an attraction,¡± I said. ¡°But there¡¯s any number of reasons this won¡¯t work. Not least of which, you¡¯ve known me three days.¡±


    He laughed at that, shoulders shaking as he shook his head, and I gaped at him.


    ¡°I¡¯m not asking to marry you,¡± he said, shoulders still shaking with his amusement. ¡°I¡¯m not asking you for anything more than you¡¯re willing to give. I just like you; I find you attractive and I want to spend time with you.¡±


    There wasn¡¯t much I could say to that.


    ¡°Now,¡± he said. ¡°What do you want to eat?¡±


    I smiled and glanced back at the menu. The meals were all pretty straightforward, but my eyes moved down the menu looking for the vegetarian options.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to hate me,¡± I said, and he lifted a brow in surprise.


    ¡°Oh, why¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need to eat¡­ that, just yet.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not something I choose to eat.¡± No matter how delicious it was when I actually tasted it. Where it came from was just too off-putting. ¡°I hold off until I absolutely have to.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± He seemed genuinely surprised at that. Pleased too. ¡°That¡¯s fine. They have vegetarian options.¡± He paused. ¡°We can ask them to prepare some cuts for you to take home to your freezer.¡±


    ¡°We can?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± He rubbed at his chin as he thought. ¡°How much do you think you¡¯ll need? How often do you have to eat?¡±


    ¡°Maybe once a week, if I stretch it as long as possible.¡±


    ¡°So, it would be good to have some stored in the freezer for emergencies. When did you last eat?¡±


    ¡°Friday,¡± I said, without thinking and a line appeared on his brow for the briefest instant before it was gone. So fast, I wasn¡¯t entirely sure I¡¯d noticed it.


    But he¡¯d noticed something.


    That I¡¯d last eaten on the day when Kenny went missing. The same day I¡¯d been at the pub when he was there.


    He wasn¡¯t showing any reaction, keeping his face calm and still, but the smile he wore wasn¡¯t as easy, and there was the faintest of creases in the corners of his eyes.


    Jack was suspicious.


    I was in trouble.

 Chapter 12

    Jack pulled up outside his office and killed the engine. We sat in an uncomfortable silence that seemed to stretch taut, before I reached for the door handle.


    ¡°You sure you want to drive home?¡± he asked, turning to me. ¡°I can pick you up in the morning.¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m fine. Thanks.¡± I managed a smile, strained thought it was, and he simply nodded as I pulled open the door and climbed out. I paused for a moment before I turned back to him. ¡°Why not just call in the covens?¡±


    ¡°How do you mean?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re taking on all the pressure of trying to keep the peace. Why not call in the covens. They could have a necromancer come in and confirm Kenny¡¯s dead with a days¡¯ notice.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want the covens here.¡± He pressed his lips into a firm line and his grip on the steering wheel tightened. ¡°Once they come into a city, they tend not to leave. They¡¯ve stayed away from here so far, because they¡¯ve had no reason to come in. If we invite them, that will change.¡±


    That pretty much tied in with what I knew about the covens, and if I were honest, the last thing I wanted was the covens setting up shop in York. The very moment they did, would be the moment I needed to flee.


    Something I desperately wanted to avoid.


    It was new, but I felt like I was building a life here. I had a friend, and a job. As I eyed Jack, I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if I could have something else too. Someone who could care for me, perhaps even love me, despite what I was.


    All I needed to do was ensure he never found out I was the one who had killed Kenny.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, offering a weak smile. ¡°I¡¯ll see you in the morning.¡±


    I watched as Jack drove away as I stood by my car, holding a bag of Tupperware boxes that held several different cuts of meat that had come from what I could only hope was an ethical source. Though, I wasn¡¯t going to dwell on how ethical a source it could be when talking about human flesh.


    It was time to make a decision.


    There was something I¡¯d been putting off since Friday, not quite certain whether or not I was going to stay. Killing Kenny had been part of the reason for that, since there was no chance of me staying if my part in that was discovered.


    But, during the intensely awkward ¡®date¡¯ with Jack, as I¡¯d picked over my food, wondering all the while if he had realised what I had done, I had come to a decision.


    I liked it in York.


    I wanted to stay.


    Which meant I needed to do some thing to make sure I could.


    Kenny had only been dead for a few days and his spirit wouldn¡¯t be contactable from the world of the living. It was too soon, and his spirit would be confused. Which meant the only thing a necromancer could do was confirm whether he was on the other side.


    So, I had some time.


    I climbed into my car and dumped the bag of Tupperware containers onto the back seat before buckling up. A quick check of my watch and I started the engine. It was after nine, which meant I had time enough for what I needed to do.


    And to get where I needed to go.


    Driving south, through the city, I kept just above the speed limit. I was all too aware of the type of meat I had on the back seat, and I really didn¡¯t want to be pulled over by some bored cop. I kept an eye on my mirror, watching for any cars following, and didn¡¯t breathe easily until I was out of the city.


    Paranoia was eating at me, and I couldn¡¯t help but feel I was being watched. The rational part of my mind told me it was because of what I was going to do, but there was a small, very loud, part that was screaming warnings at me.


    The whole thing was giving me a headache.


    Even with the lack of Sunday night traffic, it took me almost forty minutes to drive the fifteen miles to Stillingfleet, a small village south of the city. I passed quickly through the village proper and took a narrow country road to the south-east.


    Ten minutes later, I was pulling up along the overgrown grass verge beside a heavy wire mesh fence that surrounded the Stillingfleet Colliery.


    Past the fence was the mine itself; a sprawling industrial complex hidden from the road by a screen of tall trees and scrubland, with a number of the old colliery buildings still standing. Spoil heaps, those large mounds of waste material left over from the mining process sat on the outskirts, while towering steel frames, rusted and weathered by years of exposure, dominated the skyline.


    Warning signs were fixed along the length of the fence, set to deter trespassers and indicating unstable ground, collapsing buildings and flooded mineshafts. Any paths around the property were long abandoned, overgrown and difficult to access.


    Especially when carrying a body. Or at least, rubbish bags containing body parts.


    Even with the supernatural strength, that I no longer had, it had been a difficult task, and I grimaced as I climbed out of the car and looked around. Seeing the road was clear, I turned back to the fence and, ignoring the gibbering, panic filled voice, in the back of my mind, clambered over it.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    A task made even more difficult by not having that extra strength.


    Still, I made it and dropped awkwardly to the grass beyond the fence. I brushed my hands against my jeans and with a heavy sigh for what I had to do, I set off into the trees.


    Branches cracked beneath my booted feet, and old leaves dry from the summer heat, crunching and rustling in a way that could only advertise my presence to anyone who happened to be nearby. My shoulders hunched further with every step, and I gave thanks for the density of the trees that helped muffle the sounds of my passage.


    Birds sang out, their song one of outrage and alarm at my invading their space, a place that had seen little travel from humans from some time.


    Which is why I¡¯d picked the place to dump his body.


    I¡¯d driven through Stillingfleet on my way to York barely a week before, and had stopped for lunch at the village pub. It was there I had learned of the history of the place with old newspaper articles and photos that lined the walls, along with a chatty old man happy to pass the time with a stranger on a warm afternoon.


    Understandable then that in my panicked state after killing him, it had been the first place to come to mind.


    I paused at the treeline and peered out over the open waste ground. Weeds grew from cracks in the concrete, and tarmac of the abandoned road. There were no lights and all I had was the moon and stars to go by, but it was enough.


    Ducking low, I scurried across the open space towards the nearest building and pressed myself back against the weathered wood that creaked alarmingly from even the slight pressure of my body. I stepped quickly away and ran on silent feet to the nearest spoil heap.


    From a distance, the spoil heaps resembled small artificial hills, irregular and jagged, with steep sides where the material had been dumped and left to settle. Some rose several metres high, while the others were smaller, blending easier into the landscape.


    Sparse grasses, mosses, and hardy shrubs clung to the slopes, their patches of green contrasting starkly with the dark, barren areas of exposed rock and shale that had been left over from the mining processes.


    Rain and wind had eroded the heaps, carving shallow gullies and exposing layers of material. Loose stones covered the ground around them, falling in the small rockslides that occurred during the settling process.


    Stone crunched underfoot and I turned this way and that, trying to remember which of the piles I had buried the remains beneath. A task made all the more difficult by my emotional state that night, and the darkness that had blanketed the area.


    ¡°Crap,¡± I muttered, realising I was lost.


    My heart was beating way too fast and the hairs on the back of my neck were fully raised, like the hackles of a dog, as I wandered almost aimlessly amongst those unnatural hills, searching. An hour, became two, and then three, and still I hadn¡¯t found the body.


    It was well past midnight before I stumbled upon the location, more from luck than any kind of tracking skill I might have had. I was trying to climb part way up a heap and a rock shifted awkwardly beneath my foot and was soon followed by a dozen or more.


    As I looked back, following their loud, clattering, tumble. I caught sight of the black bag revealed by their passing.


    Then the stench hit me.


    It should have been revolting. Every part of my being screamed that the odour was one of death and I should be repulsed.


    But it wasn¡¯t.


    And my mouth started watering.


    ¡°Dammit,¡± I muttered, swallowing my disgust with myself as I climbed back down.


    I pulled my knife from my pocket and flicked it open, the silver blade flashing in the cool moonlight. I cut quickly through the bag and reached in, mouth twisting into a grimace as my fingers sank into the slimy mess inside.


    Feeling around, I cursed silently and pulled my hand back out. I shifted a few more rocks and revealed the next bag.


    In there I had more luck, and when I pulled out my hand covered in fluids I tried not to think about, I held Kennys watch.


    It was big, heavy, and made of gold. Tacky and ugly to boot. I slipped it into my jacket pocket and reached back into the bag, coming back out with a hand. The flesh was swollen and ripe, and I had to use my knife to cut away the flesh enough that I could slip the gold signet ring from the finger.


    Moving on to the next bag, the largest, I cut it open to reveal the bloated torso. Flies burst from the bag and maggot crawled in the flesh. I¡¯d not buried the bags properly at all, just covering them with rocks and debris in my panicked haste, and leaving rips and tears in the bags that had allowed the insects in.


    A sloppy job.


    I was disappointed and angry at myself for leaving so much exposed, but I had wasted enough time and didn¡¯t want to waste a minute more, so I pushed those thoughts aside and reached into the bag, feeling around in the stinking fluids for the knife I¡¯d used to butcher him.


    My fingers closed around it, and I almost crowed with delight, then my heart leapt to my throat and my stomach lurched, as a voice cried out in the night.


    ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡±


    I spun on my heel, eyes wide and heart hammering. A beam of light swung across the open ground, revealing all before it and I stood, frozen in fear, hand covered in the rotting, decaying matter of the body lying exposed at my feet.


    All I wanted to do was run, to hide, to disappear and not be seen.


    But it was too late.


    The beam of light hit me, and I stared directly at it, and the man holding the torch in his hand.


    ¡°Hello?¡± he called out. Then, ¡°Bloody hell, what¡¯s that smell?¡±


    ¡°Probably a cat,¡± another voice replied. ¡°Or a fox. Summat died.¡±


    The beam of light moved past me, and I gaped, not understanding.


    I hadn¡¯t been seen.


    Almost like I was invisible.


    My eyes dropped to the body parts lying in the open bags.


    Like Kenny had been.


    I stared at my hands, wondering. I¡¯d lost my strength, but in its place, had I gained a new power?


    How?


    Two men came into view, their torches shining as the beams danced and skittered across the spoil heaps.


    Those beams passed over me not once, but twice more, and still I remained unseen, while in plain view.


    ¡°You see anything?¡± the first voice asked.


    ¡°No, but it stinks,¡± replied the other. ¡°Who cares? Scavengers will have whatever it is.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t want my dogs eating it,¡± the first muttered, sulkily.


    ¡°Well, you search if you want. I¡¯m off back. Sooner we get that copper and lead stripped, sooner we can get home.¡±


    The two men grumbled with one another, but the second man¡¯s argument won out and the two of them carried on, working their way through the spoil heaps towards the abandoned buildings and whatever metal they could steal from them.


    I waited, holding my breath as I watched them walk all too slowly away, and inhaled only when I could hold it no more.


    Blinking, I marvelled at what had just happened. It wasn¡¯t that they just hadn¡¯t seen me, they hadn¡¯t seen the open bags at my feet either. Somehow, I had made them invisible too.


    Not wanting to test my luck any further, I set aside the knife and reburied the bags, gathering rock and stone and piling it high over the bags. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but it was better than nothing and I daren¡¯t risk more, not with those scavengers wandering around.


    Picking the knife back up, I set off running, back to the trees and my waiting car.


    There was still much to do.

 Chapter 13

    I pulled over just before crossing into the village proper and walked the short distance to the river that ran past the nearby houses. Looking around to make sure I wasn¡¯t observed, I crouched down and dunked my hands in the water before scrubbing at them with a clump of grass pulled from the banking.


    It wasn¡¯t perfect, but it cleansed my hands enough that I didn¡¯t have to worry about someone noticing the blood.


    Back at the car, I settled back into the driver¡¯s seat and considered my next move.


    I wanted to stay in York. That was certain. Which meant I needed to deflect attention away from me and onto someone else.


    Since I wasn¡¯t a total monster, I couldn¡¯t just plant evidence on any poor sod I might come across, which meant I needed someone sufficiently nasty and, at least somewhat deserving of death.


    Fortunately, there were plenty of them in York too.


    Banner was my first choice. A drug dealer that no one would miss.


    Plant the evidence and lay a trail of crumbs that would lead Jack to him.


    I could do that.


    Sure.


    But first I had to make sure there was no chance of some witch, warlock or necromancer finding a way to connect the death to me. Which meant I needed a spiritual cleanse of sorts.


    A soft sigh escaped me as I was struggling for time and I neither knew the relevant people in the area who would have the ingredients I needed, or where I could find them myself. Some would be easy, but a couple of them, it would take days of searching if I tried to gather them myself.


    Then there was the ritual. I could recall part of it, but not all. Not enough to make it work anyway, and I desperately needed to make it work. The only way to be sure of that though was to speak to someone who did know the ritual well enough to be able to guide me and there was only one person I knew who I could also trust.


    Which meant I had a call to make.


    One that I really wished I didn¡¯t.


    Setting off back to the city, I drove slowly, not exactly eager for what I needed to do. It was dangerous and could bring down on me everything I was fearing.


    Really, I was caught between a rock and a hard place, and if I wanted to stay, then I needed to take the risk.


    Damn.


    By the time I reached the outskirts of York, I was decided on a course of action, and I stopped outside Fulford Cemetery.


    It was the main cemetery for the people of the city and had been around for far longer than I had. Spread over twenty-some acres, it was surrounded by trees and a tall wall, and the home of the caretaker was set beside the only gate that led into it.


    That gate was closed and locked.


    And one of the ingredients I knew that I needed for the ritual needed to come from a cemetery. Since I didn¡¯t have the time to drive around checking them all. Fulford was the best option.


    Taking the Tupperware containers out of the bag, I opened two and emptied the contents of one into the other. Then I wiped out the empty container as best I could with the hem of my shirt and stepped out of the car.


    I¡¯d made sure to mount the pavement and park as close to the wall as I could, which allowed me to climb on my car¡¯s bonnet, with a small grimace and a silent apology to my little car for doing so and reach up to the top of the wall.


    Dropping down on the other side, I remained crouched as I tilted my head, listening for sounds of alarm or concern. When no alarms were raised, I set off through the darkness, looking for some of the older graves.


    It wasn¡¯t long before I found one and I took another look around before crouching down and pulling out my knife. I opened it up before stabbing the blade down into the grass that had long since grown over the grave.


    Cutting through the sod, I pulled free a small square of grass and sank my fingers into the dark earth beneath. Whispering the words of an old incantation that was more prayer than spell, I pulled up several handfuls of dirt and filled the Tupperware container before sealing it with the lid.


    A short walk back to the wall and I cursed as I realised it was too high for me to climb. A problem that clearly I had not anticipated.


    Just great.


    There weren¡¯t even any gravestones close enough to the wall for me to clamber on. I shook my head, irritated at my own idiocy and lack of forethought and turned in a slow circle, looking for a way over the wall.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    Which I couldn¡¯t find.


    That left the gate.


    Bloody wonderful.


    It wouldn¡¯t be a problem if I knew for sure I was invisible and how to activate that ability. Since I didn¡¯t, I just needed to be creative.


    The gate was made of iron and topped with decorative spikes. They wouldn¡¯t necessarily impale me, but they would make clambering over pretty difficult. Small protrusions and the narrow space between each bar were ideal for snagging clothing or shoes and there was no easy way up and over without injuring myself.


    A chain with a heavy padlock hung from the gate and I studied it carefully before throwing up my hands. It wasn¡¯t like I knew how to pick a lock anyway.


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    I turned towards the voice and flashed a tired grin, holding the Tupperware box down at my side.


    ¡°Ah¡­ hi.¡±


    ¡°What in the blue blazes are you doing out there?¡± the owner of the voice, a pot-bellied man of middle years dressed in pyjamas and housecoat, stepped out of his doorway. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be in here.¡±


    No shit.


    ¡°Sorry.¡± I tried to smile as disarmingly as I could. ¡°I was visiting my grandads grave, and I fell asleep.¡±


    The man stared at me for a minute, no doubt contemplating my ridiculous lie. After a moment, he grumbled and reached back through the open door to grab a key that was hanging from a hook there.


    He crossed over to the gate, muttering and casting dark glances my way. His eyes lingered on the Tupperware container and my dishevelled appearance and clearly decided it too late at night to make a fuss.


    With a final dark look, he unlocked the gate and pulled it open. He jerked his chin towards the opening. ¡°Go on, sod off. Don¡¯t come back.¡±


    ¡°No worries,¡± I replied, ducking my head as I scurried through the opening.


    I didn¡¯t look back and just carried on, right up the street to where my car was parked. I climbed in and tossed the grave dirt on the back seat and started the engine before he could have a chance to change his mind and challenge me.


    Driving carefully, I stuck to the main street until I approached the city centre, and then I began to look for a telephone box. I stopped beside the first one I could find and rooted around in my purse for some loose change.


    Breathing a soft sigh of relief when I found a handful of loose coins, I stepped into the telephone box and picked up the handset before inserting the coins, one after another, into the coin slot. I listened to the chink of the coins and the dial tone for several long seconds before I began to dial.


    The phone rang six times before it was answered, with me counting silently each ring. The voice on the other end of the phone was weary, and full of pain, the words slurred as though he¡¯d been drinking.


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    I licked suddenly dry lips and closed my eyes, letting my head fall against the thin glass panes of the telephone box. I¡¯d never expected to hear that voice again, and it took me a moment to compose myself before I could speak.


    ¡°Jamie.¡±


    There was silence that stretched uncomfortably, and I began to wonder if he had heard me at all. Then, finally, ¡°Eve?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Where are you? Are you okay?¡± There was an urgency to his voice, an almost care to the words that sucked the breath from my lungs. My heart beat loud in my ears and I had to blink away the tears that threatened to form.


    ¡°I-I¡¯m okay.¡±


    ¡°You are? Where are you?¡± he repeated.


    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you that,¡± I said, voice cracking. ¡°You know why.¡±


    ¡°She won¡¯t harm you, Eve,¡± he said. ¡°She promised me.¡±


    A lie and he had believed her. He¡¯d always had been sweet and trusting. Of all my cousins, he had been the only one who had ever treated me with anything remotely like decency. He was the sort of person who looked for the good in others.


    Of course, he would believe her when she told him that.


    But I wouldn¡¯t.


    ¡°I need your help.¡±


    ¡°Anything,¡± he said without hesitation. ¡°Whatever you need. Tell me where you are, and I will be with you in a flash.¡±


    The worst part about it was that he would, too. He would drop everything and rush north to find me, to help me.


    And he would bring death in his wake.


    ¡°The Rite of Dissolution,¡± I said. ¡°Remind me what I need to do.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± There was confusion in his voice, and I could picture the look on his face as he tried to puzzle out what I would need it for.


    He was too innocent a soul.


    My smile was genuine but my voice full of sorrow as I replied, ¡°You know why.¡±


    There was silence again over the phone but for the soft buzz of the static on the line. Then, ¡°Oh,¡± said in a small voice.


    He began to speak, and I listened intently, nodding along. I¡¯d remembered most of it, but there were a couple of details missing and they would have been the difference between the ritual working or failing.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, after he finished. ¡°I mean that.¡±


    ¡°Please, Eve.¡± He choked back tears. ¡°Come home. You¡¯ll be safe. I¡¯ll protect you.¡±


    It would be his death.


    That was as certain as return would mean mine.


    ¡°Remember what I told you, the day of his funeral?¡±  Oh god, how my voice almost broke at that reminder. ¡°Do you?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he said quietly, and quoted back to me those words I had spoken as tears streamed down my cheeks. ¡°Being kind doesn¡¯t mean being weak. Don¡¯t let them see where it hurts, and protect yourself, even from those who claim they love you.¡±


    ¡°Your kindness will be your undoing, cousin. Don¡¯t believe their lies.¡±


    ¡°Eve¡­¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    I put the phone down before he could say anything else and wiped angrily at my eyes, hating the tears that marked my cheeks. Hating my family for what they had done to me; for what they would do to Jamie.


    One day I would return, and I would destroy them. That was the vow I had made as I stood over my father¡¯s grave.


    But that day was not now.


    I rooted back around in my bag until I found the soft white card with just a number embossed on it in elegant gold lettering. Then picked up the phone and dialled.


    A woman answered, the distant sounds of the club reverberating in the background, and I had to repeat myself twice before she understood what I wanted. There was silence for what seemed an age before another voice answered.


    ¡°Emma, my sweet, youthful, darling, whatever can I do for you?¡±


    ¡°Peter.¡± There was no hiding the smile in my voice. I¡¯d found myself liking the flamboyant vampire. ¡°I need your help.¡±


    ¡°Say the word, sweet darling child, and I shall move both heaven and earth to aid you in whatever you need.¡±


    I sniffed, and wiped at my nose, the sound turning to laughter at his manner of speech as I shook my head. Somehow just speaking to him lifted my mood.


    ¡°Belladonna,¡± I said. ¡°I need some now and I¡¯ve no idea where to find it.¡±


    Peter was silent a moment as he considered, and then said, ¡°I know someone who will have some.¡±


    ¡°Close by?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Another pause. ¡°I have to warn you though.¡±


    ¡°About what?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to like him.¡±

 Chapter 14

    I pulled up outside the long row of terraced houses in the affluent Bootham area of the city. Each of the houses that lined the road had a mock Tudor look to them with whitewashed walls and black timber fascia.


    The street was narrow, and the houses had barely two feet of front garden, which was just enough space to place some potted plants and allow the owners to claim their homes didn¡¯t open directly onto the street like the poorer peoples did.


    Each of those gardens was well maintained with a riotous mix of colourful plants that filled the night air with their perfume. The pavements and gutters were clean, and the houses quiet. No children running around, or loud music playing.


    It was simply a quiet, genteel, area of the city and I found myself relaxing the tension in my muscles that I hadn¡¯t even realised I was carrying.


    The house I wanted had a red painted door with a brass knocker, and neatly shaped shrubbery in front of the window. It looked like every other house on the street, and I was sure none of the neighbours knew of what went on inside.


    I knocked twice on the door and waited, my irritation growing as no one responded. It was the opposite side of the city to where I lived, and a good deal out of my way. If the warlock wasn¡¯t home, I would be pissed.


    Raising my hand to knock once again, my brow furrowed as a light flickered on and the distant sound of footsteps approaching stayed my hand.


    The door opened and I blinked, surprised.


    Not what I was expecting at all.


    ¡°Well?¡± he asked. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    Lucien Blackthorn, Warlock, egotist and, apparently, a total prick.


    He stood before me dressed in black trousers and bare feet. His black shirt hung open, revealing a slim, pale, body with the hint of a tattoo on his right breast, hidden from view by the shirt. His dark tousled hair was worn loose and hung almost to his shoulders.


    Leaning against the doorframe, he crossed his arms as he studied me, much as I studied him, and there was a twitch of his lips that could have been amusement. Which, considering how I looked, wasn¡¯t surprising.


    Hardly at my best.


    Eyes, a blue so pale they reminded me of ice, flashed a deep, rich, violet flecked with red, and I almost stepped back as my eyes responded in kind, even though I tried desperately to clamp down on that happening.


    ¡°Interesting,¡± he murmured, head tilting as he looked at me with renewed interest.


    ¡°How did you do that?¡± I managed to gasp.


    ¡°One of my many gifts.¡±


    It was a violation! Forcing me to reveal what I was like that. Fury rose in my breast, and I glared at him, biting back the things I wanted to say as I reminded myself that I needed something from him.


    ¡°You going to invite me in or should we talk, loudly, out here?¡±


    Another twitch of his lips. He was definitely laughing at me.


    He turned away from the door with a shrug and raised a hand, fingers crooking to gesture me inside after him. I grimaced and stepped across his threshold, feeling somewhat like I was crossing into the lion¡¯s den, full of danger.


    I closed the door behind me and walked the length of the hallway before turning right into a quite spacious, and richly appointed, study.


    The warlock crossed to a high-backed leather chair beside the fireplace and settled into it. He raised one pale, long-fingered hand, and gestured to the chair opposite.


    I ignored him as I looked around.


    Books filled every spare inch of space. Shelves full of them lined two of the four walls, and there were piles of them on the sideboard and end tables, as well as forming small towers on the hardwood floor.


    There was a brass clock on the mantle above the fire, the tick-tock of it counting the seconds filling the air in a comforting manner. A table behind his chair held an assortment of bottles, many of them quite expensive and easily recognisable from those I had seen in my grandparents¡¯ home.


    The black painted walls were covered in sigils and wards, too many to count, let alone decipher the meaning of.


    I breathed deep of the air, cool despite the summers evening warmth and lack of windows in the dark room that should have had it feeling like a sweatbox. I chewed on my lower lip and considered what I was doing.


    Lucien was watching me, eyes unblinking, and I felt myself wilt a little beneath that stare. There was power in it.


    More than I had.


    I took a seat, sinking into the chair opposite him, the scent of the leather strong as I was enveloped in the soft cushioned embrace.


    ¡°So,¡± Lucien said. ¡°What can I do for you?¡±


    I licked dry lips. ¡°Belladonna.¡±


    He lifted a brow, surprised, and then furrowed it as his eyes glinted with annoyance.


    ¡°A herb.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Who provided you with my address?¡±


    I almost flinched back at the anger in his voice but was proud of myself for keeping my face still as I rested my hands on chairs arms.


    ¡°Does that matter?¡±


    ¡°Considering the waste of my time that this is,¡± he almost snarled the words. ¡°Yes, it is.¡±


    ¡°Do you have the herb or not?¡±


    He snorted and shook his head. ¡°Of course I do.¡±


    ¡°Then sell me some and I¡¯ll be away and will stop wasting your time.¡±


    Lucien burst out of the chair, the movement almost violent, and I did flinch then, pressing myself back into the cushions of my seat. But he moved swiftly past me to the sideboard and pulled open a cupboard, taking out a jar that he brought back to his seat as he dropped back into it.


    ¡°What do you want it for?¡±


    ¡°None of your business.¡±


    He fixed me with a look that told me he was rapidly losing patience. ¡°It is if you want me to sell you this. I need to know how much you need, and what type. Does it have to have been gathered during the day or beneath a full moon? From field, or river, or atop a damned hill?¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Oh.¡± My cheeks were flaming, and I shrank back even further. I should have known that. ¡°A ritual of dissolution.¡±


    ¡°Then a single sprig, cut with a silver blade beneath a crescent moon,¡± he muttered, opening the jar. ¡°That will work best.¡±


    He pulled out a slightly eerie looking sprig, with oval-shaped, dark green leaves that had a smooth texture and a slightly pointed tip. There were several small, bell-shaped flowers hanging from the stem, each a dusky purple.


    Lucien set it aside and resealed the jar before he looked at me again. ¡°Anything else?¡±


    I already had the grave dirt, and I had the waning moon so long as I completed the ritual that night. Chalk, I had, and any cooking pan would work in place of a brazier. The only other ingredient I could think I might find easier to get directly from him, wasn¡¯t a big thing at all.


    ¡°Rainwater,¡± I said, shrugging. ¡°Enough to fill a bowl.¡±


    Lucien nodded slowly. ¡°I have that. From the highlands of Scotland, superior quality as it was gathered directly by me.¡±


    Which, by his tone, I assumed meant something.


    ¡°Any rainwater will do.¡± Cheapest preferred. ¡°Whatever you have.¡±


    Another trip to the cupboard and he returned with a small glass jar filled with water that he placed beside the sprig of Belladonna.


    ¡°How much?¡± I asked, lifting my chin towards them.


    ¡°Can do you both for seventy-five.¡±


    I stared at him a moment and then laughed. ¡°You¡¯re joking?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Since I had about fifteen quid to my name, that was way out of my price range, and I was pretty sure he knew that. Much as he knew that if I was coming to him, I had few other options.


    I was starting to understand why people kept telling me I wouldn¡¯t like him.


    ¡°Tell you what,¡± he said, smiling. ¡°I¡¯ll give it to you for nothing. Just tell me who sent you to waste my time.¡±


    I felt a definite chill at that, and I shook my head. No way would I give up Peter to him. There was something predatory about the way he leaned forward, asking me that question, and I wasn¡¯t sure I cared to know why he wanted to know.


    ¡°No,¡± I repeated. ¡°I can pay you later.¡±


    ¡°Pay me later,¡± he scoffed. ¡°You think me a shopkeeper, willing to sell you something on tick, accepting pennies a week because you have the temerity to come asking for what you cannot afford!¡±


    ¡°Like I had a choice,¡± I muttered and glared right back at him, meeting the angry embers of his eyes with my own burning fury. ¡°I¡¯ll leave my car here. It¡¯s worth more than you¡¯ve asked for. I¡¯ll bring you the money at the end of the week.¡±


    ¡°I have no need for your car and no desire to bargain like some market trader.¡± He rose to his feet and waved towards the door which opened as if commanded. ¡°Go. Leave. You have wasted enough of my time.¡±


    I could feel the passage of time, the slow crawl of my crimes catching up to me. There was a gnawing urgency now that I had decided to stay, and I was loathe to leave the ritual for another night as there were far too few before I would lose the waning moon and have to wait another month.


    In short, I was desperate.


    And he was a warlock.


    Bargaining was something he knew. Something he understood. It was part of who he was, and a warlock who couldn¡¯t bargain, was not a warlock for long.


    ¡°A trade,¡± I said, as he took a menacing step towards me. He stopped and stared down at me, head tilting this way and that.


    ¡°Trade?¡±


    ¡°Yes, a bargain if you will.¡±


    He lowered his arm and lifted his chin, eyes narrowing in thought as he considered.


    ¡°I could do that. What do you propose?¡±


    I wracked my brain for everything I could remember about warlocks, which as it turned out, was a depressingly small amount. What I did know, was that when they made a bargain, they would not break it.


    Which gave me a chance.


    ¡°I need to complete the ritual of dissolution, tonight. Now.¡±


    His eyes dropped to the table and the items there, and then back to me.


    ¡°What do you have?¡±


    My mouth was dry, and my tongue darted out, wetting my lips. Risky, far too risky, but what choice did I have. He was intrigued enough to bargain, and I could include anything I wanted in that bargain. He just had to accept it.


    ¡°Personal effects,¡± I said. ¡°And¡­ a knife.¡±


    The corner of his mouth twitched. A smile. I was sure.


    ¡°Murder weapon?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°What connection?¡±


    ¡°Used to dismember.¡±


    His eyes widened as his nostrils flared, excited. He could sense the possibilities in the bargain to be made.


    ¡°Grave dirt?¡±


    ¡°Gathered myself.¡±


    A slight nod and he tapped his chin with one elegant finger.


    ¡°Chalk, I will discount, brazier and matches too.¡±


    ¡°Decent of you.¡± I rolled my eyes.


    ¡°Your blood?¡±


    ¡°Not part of the bargain.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough.¡±


    ¡°Silence,¡± I said, and he blinked, thoughts disturbed. ¡°You will not speak of me or this ritual together or speculate with anyone on my role in any crime.¡±


    He shrugged, uncaring. ¡°Agreed.¡±


    ¡°What price?¡± Another double tap of his finger against his chin and then a widening of his smile that made my heart sink. ¡°A favour to be asked, in the future.¡±


    That could mean anything from picking up his dry cleaning to murdering someone. I wasn¡¯t stupid enough to fall for that.


    ¡°Stipulations,¡± I said, quite firmly. ¡°Narrow your focus.¡±


    He waved a hand, smile not slipping as he dismissed my concern. ¡°The favour will be small, innocuous, and not anything that will bring you personal harm.¡±


    ¡°Nothing sexual.¡± There were some depravities required in a variety of rituals that I wanted no part in. ¡°With you or anyone else.¡± I thought for a moment. ¡°Anything else.¡±


    ¡°Agreed.¡±


    ¡°Agreed,¡± I said with a sigh.


    Lucien gathered the ritual items and went back to the cupboard. He pulled out a variety of items that would be needed and looked back over his shoulder at me.


    ¡°The doors unlocked. Go and gather the things you need.¡±


    I did as he bid, muttering all the while, and returned to find him standing in the hallway. He waved me in to a different room and I followed him cautiously.


    ¡°Don¡¯t I have to sign something,¡± I asked as he closed the door. The black painted room was lit only by the flickering light of a dozen blood-red candles placed around the wooden floor. ¡°Like, a contract or something?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Lucien said, not looking at me as he moved to the centre of the room and pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket. ¡°The bargain is agreed, and failure to adhere by it will have dire consequences.¡±


    Great.


    I watched in silence as he drew a wide circle on the floor, three feet in width. Symbols were drawn inside and out, with a practiced hand. It was clear he knew what he was doing, and he was doing it far better than I could have.


    He divided the circle into quadrants, marking each with a sigil that represented one of the four elements. Fire, water, earth and air. Then he turned to me and held out a hand.


    I hesitated for just a moment before passing over the watch, signet ring and knife. He placed these in the centre of the circle and held out his hand again. I passed over the Tupperware container with the grave dirt in it.


    He cocked one brow at the container and shook his head but didn¡¯t say anything. He simply pulled off the lid and sprinkled the dirt over the three items as he recited quietly.


    ¡°Through earth, I bind thee; from root to dust, thou art cast.¡±


    Lucien next gathered the brazier and spoke a word. Flickering orange flame burst forth and he held the bowl in his left hand as he lifted the watch with his right and passed it through the flames.


    ¡°Through fire, I cleanse thee; no ash remains, no shadow lingers.¡±


    Next, he poured the rainwater into a wide bowl and submerged the knife in it.


    ¡°Through water, I drown thee; no ripple follows, no spirit pursues.¡±


    Finally, he lit a stick of incense and fanned the air above the signet ring, whispering, ¡°Through air, I scatter thee; no trace is carried on the wind.¡±


    Then it was my turn. I swallowed hard and stepped forward. I pulled out my knife and flicked open the blade before reaching up and grasping a small clump of my hair. I sawed the blade thorough it and dropped the hair into the fire.


    ¡°From flesh to flame,¡± I said. ¡°I sever all bonds. No blood remembers; no soul recalls.¡±


    Lucien nodded approvingly and lifted the belladonna above the circle. He crushed it in his hands and scattered it over the items he had placed back there as he said, ¡°With poison, I end thee; no tether shall bind, no force shall claim.¡±


    The watch he lifted and dropped into the fire and nodded to me. I knelt down beside him and used my knife to cut a deep scratch in the soft gold of the ring, defacing it. Lucien then reached for the knife and snapped the blade with a show of strength I hadn¡¯t realised he had.


    ¡°With this act, I undo all,¡± he said. ¡°No name, no bond, no memory remains.¡±


    One last nod to me and I held my hand over the flame, palm down. With a grimace I drew the blade of my knife across the palm and squeezed my hand into a fist, forcing the blood from the shallow cut to drip into the flames.


    A burst of violet light erupted from the flame and the candles flickered as Lucien settled back on his heels. He grinned up at me as I shook my hand, wincing at the pain.


    ¡°The ritual is done,¡± he declared. ¡°You may leave and take these items with you.¡±


    He poured the rainwater over the flame extinguishing it and passed across the ring and watch, which was cool to the touch despite being in the flame. He gave me both pieces of the knife and laughed as he saw the look I gave him.


    ¡°My part of the bargain is complete,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll call on you soon for yours.¡±


    Just great.


    I pushed the worry over what that favour might be to the back of my mind. The ritual was complete. I was safe. No scrying witch, nor necromancer contacting the man¡¯s spirit would be able to reveal his killer.


    No one would know what I had done.


    Now all I needed to do was find someone to blame, before Marko lost his patience and took matters into his own hands.


    I just wasn¡¯t sure how.

 Chapter 15

    The office door opened as I reached for the handle, juggling the sandwich bags, newspaper and cups of coffee that I held. A yelp escaped me, and I stepped back, almost dropping the coffees and sandwiches, as a small mountain of a man glared out at me.


    Lucas grunted, lips twitching in amusement as I had to crane my neck to glare up at him.


    ¡°You gonna let me in?¡±


    He stepped aside and waved me through the door, and I braced myself as I entered Jack¡¯s office.


    It was crowded, with just the two of us in it. Add in Lucas and Marko, and I had to turn sideways to squeeze past the two half-demons to reach my desk where I set down the items I carried. Jack, seated behind his desk, lifted his chin in acknowledgement while Marko ignored me entirely.


    The half-demon gangter jabbed a finger down against the desk as he scowled at Jack.


    ¡°Where is he?¡±


    ¡°I think we need to accept that he¡¯s likely dead,¡± Jack said, choosing each word carefully. ¡°I¡¯ve checked all his usual haunts, and many more besides, and left word with the people who frequent them. If anyone knows where he is, they aren¡¯t speaking.¡±


    Marko eyes flashed and the desk beneath his finger began to blacken, a wisp of smoke rising from it. When he spoke, his voice was tight, barely held under control as Lucas leaned forward eagerly.


    ¡°Then get me someone who can drag his spirit back here!¡± The smouldering patch of black on the desk spread outwards, flashes of orange embers sparking briefly besides his finger. ¡°I don¡¯t care about cost; I want to know who killed him!¡±


    Jack eyed the black spot on his desk, mouth twisting as he reached into a drawer of his desk and pulled out an address book.


    ¡°A necromancer won¡¯t help,¡± he said. ¡°Will be weeks before the spirit is contactable.¡±


    ¡°Witch then!¡±


    The werewolf PI sighed and shook his head. He raised a hand and ran his fingers through hair that was badly in need of a comb. His clothes were rumpled and were the same ones he¡¯d worn yesterday, and the dark smudges beneath his eyes told me he probably hadn¡¯t slept.


    I wasn¡¯t sure what that meant or whether it was a bad thing for me.


    ¡°There¡¯s a clairvoyant I know,¡± he said, hemming and hawing as he considered. ¡°She could try and track him¡±


    Or his remains, went unspoken.


    ¡°Then do that.¡±


    ¡°Technically she works for the Hargrave Coven, and they don¡¯t like to share. It won¡¯t be cheap to persuade her to do this.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± Marko snapped, jabbing his finger down again, and a small pillar of flame appeared on the desk where he pressed, there and gone in an instant. His skin remained unblemished, though the same could not be said of the desk. ¡°Get it done, and soon. If he¡¯d dead, I want his body so his mother can bury him.¡±


    ¡°And, if he¡¯s alive?¡±


    ¡°Then bring him home so I can bloody well kill him myself!¡± the older half-demon said. ¡°For the trouble he¡¯s caused.¡±


    Marko rose, pushing back the chair and almost knocking it over. Without another word, he stormed from the office with Lucas giving Jack a hard look before he followed after his boss. The door closed, harder than needed, and I flinched at the sound even though I¡¯d been expecting it.


    I stared at the door for a moment and then looked at Jack, eyebrows rising. ¡°Well, I think your sandwich will be cold now.¡±


    Jack chuckled and leaned over his desk, inspecting the damage. He rubbed at the black spot, about the size of the bottom of his mug, and he muttered something I didn¡¯t catch. He rubbed at his eyes and shook his head as I deposited the three bacon sandwiches and the cup of coffee on his desk in front of him.


    ¡°Eat,¡± I ordered. ¡°You changed yesterday. Your body will need the calories.¡±


    ¡°Most don¡¯t know that,¡± he said, pulling the first sandwich from its wrapping and taking a large bite. He chewed quickly and swallowed before taking another bite. It was the very definition of ¡®wolfing it down¡¯ and I chuckled at the thought. ¡°I¡¯ll be gone most of today, off to see a clairvoyant.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need me to come with you?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± He shook his head and finished the last bite of the sandwich before reaching for the next. ¡°I need you to watch the office.¡±


    Sounded boring.


    ¡°Are you sure I can¡¯t do anything else? I could talk to the Gwiber.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± His eyes narrowed, and I flinched back from his sharp tone. He smiled, apologetically. ¡°Sorry. They¡¯re too dangerous for you to go alone.¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°What about Banner?¡±


    ¡°Christ,¡± he snorted, shaggy head shaking. ¡°He¡¯s not as dangerous but you don¡¯t want to mess with him.¡± The second sandwich finished, he reached for the third. ¡°No, they can wait. First, we find the body and then we can figure out who killed him.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re certain he¡¯s dead then?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    He wasn¡¯t giving anything away and he didn¡¯t quite look at me when he said it. That left me wondering if he knew what I had done or if he just suspected it. Or even if he was considering me responsible at all!


    I hated not knowing, and I needed to be doing something, or it would drive me crazy.


    Though what I could do, I didn¡¯t know.


    Jack finished his sandwich and drank the coffee as I picked at my toasted t-cake and stared glumly at my desk. He waved his goodbyes and then I was alone. In the office. With nothing much to do but wait for the phone to ring.


    I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if I was being punished.


    There had to be more to why he hadn¡¯t taken me with him. I was sure of it. Unfortunately, though, there was nothing I could do to prove that.


    So, instead, I finished my breakfast and set to work.


    I¡¯d never been one to sit on my hands doing nothing and would always rather be busy than not. I¡¯d finished the filing last Friday, and the filing cabinets were in better shape than they had been before I started.


    Jack¡¯s desk, however, and the shelves on the wall opposite the filing cabinets, were a different matter.


    By lunchtime I had organised the books on the shelves and tidied his desk. I¡¯d found some cleaning supplies and cleaned every surface in the office with them. The window had been opened to allow in some fresh air and let the dust out, and I¡¯d answered three phone calls taking notes enough with each that Jack could simply call them back as needed.


    I was beyond bored.


    I slumped down into Jack¡¯s chair and set the phone back on the receiver before glancing at the notes I¡¯d taken.


    Woman looking to divorce her husband and wanting evidence of infidelity.


    Hardly a life-or-death situation, but it would be easy money for him, I supposed. The sort of bog-standard job that kept the lights on.


    Still, with that call ended, there was literally nothing left for me to do but wait for the next call and that just meant I had nothing to stop my mind from dwelling on my problems. Namely, finding a scapegoat to blame for Kenny¡¯s murder.


    The Gwiber would be the obvious choice considering what Kenny had done to them, though for all their fearsome reputation, I wasn¡¯t entirely sure they deserved to take the blame, let alone what came with that.


    Banner, on the other hand, was a drug dealer and a criminal who had enough people knowing he¡¯d argued with Kenny to be easy to blame for his death. Whether he was exactly deserving of what Marko would do to him, I didn¡¯t know, but I was pretty sure a drug dealer wasn¡¯t exactly someone I would be feeling too sorry for, no matter what happened.


    I just needed to know if he was someone I could blame. So far, rushing and panicking, had only caused me more problems. A body hastily buried, and a now a debt to warlock.


    Then there were my powers.


    I had lost the supernatural strength but gained invisibility. It didn¡¯t take a genius to realise there was a connection between Kenny¡¯s death and my gaining that power since he was an Invisibilis half-demon.


    Though I wasn¡¯t sure how that connection came to be.


    There was a small mirror in one of the desk drawers along with a shaving kit that clearly Jack hadn¡¯t used for some time. I took out the mirror and propped it up on the desk so that I could see myself clearly in it.


    I had a new power, but I didn¡¯t quite know how to use it.


    Seemed like as good a time as any to figure that out.


    I¡¯d turned invisible when I thought I was about to be caught by the men in the old colliery. I couldn¡¯t really recall having done anything specific and the only feeling I¡¯d had, had been a fear of being caught.


    Thinking back, though, in Dalby Forest Jack had burst into the clearing and seemed confused. As much as I could tell, considering he was in his wolf form. Almost like he had expected to see me there but hadn¡¯t.


    Like I¡¯d been invisible then too, and while he could smell me, he hadn¡¯t been able to see me.


    Again, I had been desperately trying not to be seen. To be hidden from view. So that he wouldn¡¯t catch me.


    And he hadn¡¯t.


    I chewed on my lower lip as I thought about that, trying to recall that exact feeling. It hadn¡¯t been fear, not that time, but I¡¯d wanted to win the race and being caught would have meant losing. Whereas with the men in the colliery, it had been fear.


    So, it wasn¡¯t the emotion, but the strong desire instead.


    Was that it? I wondered. Simply wanting to be invisible hard enough would activate the power?


    Only one way to find out.


    I fixed my gaze on my reflection, narrowing my eyes as I focused on the idea of turning invisible.


    Nothing happened. My reflection stubbornly refused to fade away.


    Screwing up my nose in disgust, I tried again.


    And again.


    With no change in the result.


    Shoulders slumping, I sighed and leaned back in the chair.


    What was I missing?


    What did I know about half-demons and their powers?


    Not a lot.


    When a demon possessed someone, a portion of their power was held in that human form. Since demons loved nothing more than spreading chaos, they often spread their seed far and wide also, impregnating women or, if a female body, their host.


    The child born would have a shadow of a shadow of that demons¡¯ abilities. Kenny had been an Invisibilis, while his father, Marko, was an Infernus.


    Or rather, more likely his stepfather, since a half-demon wouldn¡¯t pass on their abilities to their own offspring. It was a one and done ability, too weak to spread further.


    Each half-demon would have their own way of accessing and controlling their power. For Marko, it was his anger, a common theme for those with fire abilities. But, was it his anger that activated the ability, or merely a byproduct?


    My eyes fell to the black mark on the desk where his finger had been pressed.


    Perhaps it was anger and contact, since nothing else had burned but where his finger was pressed.


    My mind went back to the times I¡¯d been impossible, and I tried to recall just what I had been doing when it happened, and then I laughed. My eyes went back to the mirror, and I squeezed my hand into a fist as I focused on the idea of vanishing.


    And I did.


    The mirror reflected the chair and window behind me, but my image vanished.


    I released my hand, and I flashed back into view.


    It was so simple. At the colliery I had instinctively gripped my knife tighter, and in the forest, I had squeezed my hands into fists as I pressed myself back against the tree. That was all it took. Simply squeezing shut my hand.


    My laughter filled the room, and I tried again, squeezing shut my hand and fading from view.


    I had a new power, and I could use it!


    I was almost giddy with the idea.


    My gaze fell on the address book that Jack had left on his desk. In it was the name, telephone number and address of everyone he knew. I chewed my lower lip as I wondered; was Banner¡¯s address in there?


    With my new power, and his address, all I needed to do was walk into his home or business and plant the evidence and there was no one who could see me do it.


    I would be done with the worry and the looking over my shoulder. That fear that someone would link Kenny¡¯s death to me.


    All I had to do was be okay with someone else taking the blame.