Sacrifice (The Venus Chronicles #1)

Chapter 34

Thirty-Four

The walls of the interview room closed in on Eve as Michaels gazed at her from the other side of the table. The man sitting beside him had extended the glamour of disguise to smooth away the knubs on his forehead now. He looked entirely human, and Eve was beginning to doubt she’d ever seen them.

But they had walked through a perfectly solid brick wall and stepped out into the alley next to the police station. Since then, they had behaved like the police officers they purported to be.

“This is bullshit,” she said for what felt like the hundredth time. “I haven’t done anything wrong. You’ve got no grounds to arrest me.” The quintessence rolled around her chest, unable to escape. There was no path through the veil Michaels had cast over her, nothing to connect to. Every person she’d seen since they’d left her house had looked grey and ordinary. No auras. No colors. No thoughts.

She rubbed her fingertips together, smearing what remained of the ink they’d used to take her prints.

“You are being detained in connection with the murder of James Mallory,” Michaels said calmly. He leaned in towards the microphone. They had already explained that the interview would be recorded as evidence, but of what they had yet to say.

Eve felt the color drain from her face, and an icy knot formed in her stomach. She felt like she was going to be sick.

“That’s ridiculous,” she whispered. “I don’t even know who he is.”

“Where were you on the night of December the third?”

Eve blinked back at him, trying to think. The third of December had been the night of her Christmas drinks. The night Lucien had rescued her. She glared back at Michaels, wondering what he already knew.

She rubbed at her forehead. “It was my work’s Christmas party, in a pub in Earls Court.”

“What time did that start?”

Eve wished to delve into Michael's mind to discover what he truly wanted to know, but she couldn’t find a way through the veil. She assumed that meant he could not see into hers either “Around five.”

“Why don’t you walk me through the day’s events,” Michaels said. He clasped his hands together, interlocked his fingers, and leaned on the table, apparently all ears.

Eve squinted at him. “Okay. I got up around seven as usual, got ready for work, and left about eight to walk to the tube. I start work in the British Museum gift shop at nine and I’m usually there until five, but we knocked off early that day.”

“And what did you do when you knocked off?” Michaels nodded to her to continue.

“We went to a pub in Earls Court, the Bird in Hand, for dinner and drinks. Early Christmas thing.”

“What time did you leave?”

“I’m pretty sure we’ve done this already,” Eve said. After all, it was Michaels who visited her the next day. Actually, and this other guy. The guy who may or may not have horns.

“Humor me.”

Eve sighed. “Ten-ish. I had one of my heads.” She looked up at Michaels, who looked back quizzically. “I get migraines.”

“I see.”

It occurred to Eve then that since meeting Lucien, she hadn’t had a single one. “Anyway, I decided to walk for a bit to clear my head and my way home was over Hammersmith Bridge. I’m not sure exactly how it happened. I’d had a few drinks, and well, I ended up in the river.”

The constable scribbled something on a pad and showed it to Michaels.

Eve felt the prickle of sweat on her upper lip.

“Fancied a swim, did you?” Michaels asked.

“Hardly.”

“What then?”

Eve squirmed in her seat. “I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

“A bit unlikely, isn’t it?”

Eve shrugged.

“Take a bottle home from the party?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Meet anyone as you were walking along?”

“No.”

“Didn’t run into Mallory? White, middle-aged man. Red hair.”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Mallory liked to hang around the river. He’s got form. I wouldn’t have put it past him to approach you.”

Eve stared at him for a long moment. “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

“James Mallory was a known sex offender, Miss Areli. Pretty girl like you, wandering alone in the dead of night. It would have been a gift.”

Incredulity was building in Eve. She looked between Michaels and the constable. Neither was giving anything away. “Are you suggesting I was asking to be attacked?”

Thorne produced an evidence bag and placed it in front of her. “Do you recognize this?”

It was an iPhone zipped inside a plastic bag. The cover was a distinctive bright yellow and there was a small web of cracks to the top left of the screen. It was also smeared with blood. She gawked at the bag. “Jesus, where did you get that? It’s mine. I’ve been looking for it everywhere.”

“Can you explain how this came to be at the murder scene?” Thorne asked.

Eve’s jaw flapped as she flailed around her brain for words. There was a slice of time she couldn’t remember.

“We’ve compared the prints against yours. They match. The blood is that of the victim.”

Eve shook her head, trying to clear it. “I don’t understand how–”

Michaels leaned forward and stopped the tape recording.

Perhaps, at last, this was going to make some sense.

“What do you remember of that night?” he said, pushing the evidence bag towards her. She was still staring at her phone and now tears were welling in her incredulous eyes. It had been one mad thing after another. She was angry at being snatched from her home. Her senses reeled from being turned up to eleven and now down to zero. She was confused beyond measure. Her phone had been in her coat pocket.

“Nothing other than being in the water,” she muttered. “I’ve never met this, Mallory.”

Michaels nodded. “I know, but after that little demonstration on the tube, I can’t have you wandering around unprotected .”

Eve squinted at him, her mind clearing as she realized what he was saying. “So, you’re going to frame me for a murder?”

“I can hold you without charge for forty-eight hours, seventy-two if I go to the Super. That will be long enough to keep you safe.”

She tried to read him, tried to penetrate the veil. Instinctively, her hand went to her pendant and Michaels’ eyes followed. She pulled at the open neck of her shirt, trying to cover it up, but it was too late. She bit at her lip, annoyed with herself.

“The star, did he give you that?”

“Mallory?”

“Forget Mallory. Lucien Knight. Did he ask you to wear it?”

Defiance settled across Eve then. “So, we are back to Lucien. You’ve really got a bug up your ass about him, haven’t you?” They stared at each other, and Eve saw violet glimmers shining deep in Michaels’ eyes. “I know what you are,” she said at last.

Michaels huffed out a laugh and leaned back in his chair. “Enlighten me.”

“You’re a lackey. A prison guard. Following orders and trying to keep Lucien chained.”

He looked taken aback by that. She ploughed on. “We are meant to be together, Lucien and I. Ishtar and Elham are going to be reunited.”

“Gods, and you were doing so well. Had me worried for minute.”

“What?” Michaels was really starting to piss her off.

“Did he give you the Star of Ishtar and tell you that you are a goddess?” Michaels asked, learning forward, putting his arms on the table.

She laughed at his feeble attempt to undermine her. “It’s mine, smartass. It was my grandmother’s, been in the family for generations.”

That wiped the smile off his face. “How many?” he growled.

“It goes back a long way. At least four that I know of. Why? Do you think I stole it?”

“What are you?” he said in a whisper. His eyes narrowed.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“It doesn’t add up. You don’t look like a celestial. You’ve got no aura. Like him.” He tailed off and Eve saw ethereal lines of energy appear around him as he muttered something under his breath. Ancient words that formed ghostly sigils in the air between them.

He grabbed one of her arms and pulled it across the table, exposing the white flesh of her forearm.

A symbol darkened on the skin of her arm, an intricate glyph, like the sparkling runes she’d seen on her body the previous day.

“I should have known,” he said, as the glow around him faded. “You wear his mark.”

She rubbed at the symbol, but it did not fade now that Michaels had summoned it. Knobbly flesh puckered like an angry scar. It looked like she’d been branded. She ran her fingers over it. “What? What is this?” I didn’t feel beautifully magical like the others Lucien had shown her before. Its energy was sinister, like a cancer corrupting her skin.

His expression hardened. “A dark glamour. To hide you from me.”

“He’s not dark. You’re a liar. He is Elham.”

Michaels shook his head and looked Eve over. “I don’t know how he found you. I’ve got to admit, I’m impressed. He’s a reaver. The last thing he’d want is to let me know he’d got you, an unprotected power source.”

Eve quivered with irritation. “A reaver? What are you talking about?” Eve rubbed at her temples. “Do you ever make sense?”

“He kills the possessed to release the dybbuk within. We cleanse humanity. It is his eternal punishment, and mine to police it.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “You’re touched by the quintessence, Eve. With this mark on you, I couldn’t see your true nature. Lucien has hidden you from me.”

Eve looked down to the mark and back up to Michaels. “He loves me.”

Michaels pulled down the corners of his mouth, and reached forward to press the record button.

“Eve Areli, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of James Mallory. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defense if you do not mention something when questioned, which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”

“What!” Eve made to stand, and Michaels grabbed her by the wrist.

“You’re going to spend some time at his majesty’s pleasure.”