Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
‘What do you mean,’ Channing asked, brow furrowed, ‘closed?’
‘Exactly that. Crane’s report didn’t turn up anything helpful, nor did Ed’s. We’re dead in the water. The brass want it closed, and for us to have a more visible street presence. You and Frost are to take to the streets together.’ I cleared my throat. ‘And I’ll be off for the next two days.’
‘You’re on rota,’ he noted. ‘Is everything okay?’
Seeing genuine concern, I admitted, ‘I was attacked walking to my mother’s home yesterday and as such I have been instructed to take forty-eight off.’
‘Shit, sir!’ Channing was aghast, guilt swimming in his eyes. ‘I should have insisted that I give you a lift.’
‘Nonsense. It was one vamp, and I handled it. He’s true-dead. I’m just taking some downtime.’
He frowned. ‘You never take downtime.’ The frown lifted and his voice dropped. ‘You’re pursuing the Aspen case solo – in your own time.’
Damn. Give the rookie a gold star. Maybe he wasn’t such a rookie these days after all.
But thinking about Thackeray’s warning, about the powers that would be coming after those I love, I looked him in the eye and lied.
‘I’m honestly taking a break.’ After a beat, I added, ‘I will of course be logging in remotely, and if there are any issues, you can always contact me. In the meantime—’
‘I’m in charge!’ Elvira hollered as she swanned into my poky office. She sounded delighted at the prospect. ‘Thackeray came to see me. While you’re off, I’m acting head of Unit 13!’
‘I have every confidence in you,’ I said as I rose from my desk. ‘Try to make sure no one falls down the stairs in my absence.’
Elvira grinned. ‘I make no promises.’
I sighed and shook my head. Of course she didn’t. ‘Just … don’t burn the place down.’
She mock saluted.
You want me to poop on her shoulder? Loki asked.
No, I replied. Let’s save it for a particularly sassy day. This is Elvira behaving.
He snorted.
My thoughts exactly.
I texted Amber, asking her to meet me at home rather than at the office as originally planned. Despite Channing’s numerous offers, I walked home. I wasn’t letting one incident make me feel like I couldn’t walk the streets.
And honestly, I felt surprisingly fine about it. The attack hadn’t even been that big of a deal; it was just the location that had given me the heebie-jeebies.
Annoyingly, I couldn’t protest too hard, couldn’t say I was absolutely fine because otherwise that would blow the smokescreen Thackeray had given me to hide behind. It galled though, letting people think I was so affected by the attack that I had to run home and have a duvet day.
Mrs Abernathy was making her way out of the building as I made my way in. Today she was wearing a bright pink neck scarf that matched her luminous pink trousers. She wore an orange top and was a veritable riot of colour.
Mrs Abernathy’s commitment to her signature accessory was like a lighthouse’s commitment to its beam; regardless of the conditions outside, scarves were a constant and defining part of her attire.
She wore them even in the height of summer, though I could admit it would be handy in the current autumn chill.
‘Good afternoon, Mrs Abernathy,’ I greeted my neighbour. ‘How are you?’
‘Oh, wonderful dear, thank you.’ She turned to admire the surrounding trees. ‘Have you noticed we have a whole murder of crows living nearby?’
Robbie’s crows.
‘Um, I guess they like it here,’ I said lamely.
‘It’s an awfully small tree for them all to sit in. There must be nearly a hundred crammed in that small tree at times.’ She shrugged. ‘I’ve been feeding them nuts. They do seem to enjoy it.’
‘Oh! Well, no wonder they stick around then.’
She smiled. ‘Yes, and they bring me the loveliest little gifts. Several bottle tops.’
‘Right.’ I ran my eyes pointedly over her outfit and changed the subject. ‘You look lovely. Are you doing anything nice?’
‘I’m going to feed the ducks,’ she said, holding her purse aloft, which, presumably, contained bird seed. ‘I wouldn’t want the ducks to think the crows have all of my love.’
Stifling a smile, I commented instead, ‘You’re a bit dressed up for the ducks.’
‘It’s more for Mr Jones than the ducks.’ She winked. ‘He’s a fine specimen of a man, even at seventy. It’s our third date, and you know what that means.’
I found myself grinning. ‘Please don’t shag by the ducks.’
She let out a surprisingly girlish giggle and didn’t promise anything. She gave me a jaunty wave and set off with the vigour of a woman ten years younger.
I walked up the stairs to my flat, opened the door, and gaped a bit to see Amber and Bastion already in situ.
‘I have locks,’ I protested. ‘And wards.’
The deadly griffin assassin sent me an amused look. ‘Do you think either of those could keep me out?’
I huffed. ‘Apparently not.’
Amber’s gaze slid back to me, sharp and assessing. ‘What’s the emergency?’
‘I was attacked last night.’
‘You think it’s the Domini?’ Amber asked.
I blinked. It hadn’t crossed my mind for even a minute that the attack could have stemmed from them.
‘I … no, I hadn’t thought that. It was a vampyr.’ I tapped my lip in thought. ‘Though he did say he had orders to kill me. To be honest, I was considering that the orders might have come from the Connection.’
She didn’t so much as balk at the idea that our lawmaker, police and my actual fucking employer might be gunning for me. ‘Why would they do that?’
‘Jude Jingo killed Ash Aspen. He’s in a new body. I’ve been told to close the case. But … the timing is off. I was told to close the case this afternoon, and officially, I have done so. Complying with my orders. The attack was last night, before I was given any orders to close the case.’
‘Officially you have done so?’ Bastion queried. Trust the assassin not to miss a trick.
‘Unofficially, I’m still digging. That’s one of the reasons you’re here. The other potential cause of the vampyr attack might be that Jingo ordered it. So I need your help. I need you to scry my attacker from my mind. Then I can dig into his identity.’
‘True-dead?’ Bastion asked evenly.
‘Indeed.’
He nodded approvingly.
‘I can scry the vampyr’s image from your mind,’ Amber said, ‘but remember that this is going to hurt like a sonofabitch, and no amount of headache potions will help. Scry headaches are immune to magical healing.’
‘Yeah, I know. I’m officially signed off for the next forty-eight, so I guess it doesn’t matter if I spend a couple of hours whimpering.’
‘It’ll be more than a couple,’ the witch warned.
Loki flew down and landed on Amber’s shoulder.
Her expression softened. ‘Hello, beautiful,’ she murmured, assessing him. ‘You’re looking well. How’s the wing?’
Loki spread his white wings as if to show her he was healed, but I detected a hint of show-off energy.
‘Magnificent,’ she declared solemnly, and he preened. Cheeky little fuzzball. Then he took to the wing, flying high, circling the ceiling light.
Amber watched him with an indulgent smile. Who knew she liked birds?
‘You’ll need a clean bowl for the scry, right?’ I checked.
‘Ceramic, if you have one,’ she said briskly, eyes on me. ‘And filled with clean water.’
I grabbed a bowl from under the sink, cleaned it and filled it with fresh water. Then I carefully carried it over to my dining room table.
Amber snapped on purple gloves and opened a jar of potion.
She dipped her paintbrush into the dark gloop and turned to me.
‘Close your eyes and imagine a moment from the attack. One screenshot, if you will. If you think of the attack as a whole the image will be blurry. Focus instead on one singular moment.’
It wasn’t hard to pick. I recalled the moment his mask dropped. Fury had snapped his fangs down and his nose had wrinkled in a soundless snarl. He hadn’t looked so pretty then.
I closed my eyes and focused on that one snapshot.
‘I’m painting now,’ Amber warned. ‘Stay still.’
I suppressed a gasp as cold gloop was painted onto the warm skin of my forehead.
I kept my focus on the image of my attacker, trying to think of nothing else but him.
‘Try not to throw up on me,’ Amber said briskly.
‘Your concern is overwhelming,’ I said drily. ‘I’m ready. Bastion, you’ll take a photo of the image that arises in the water?’
‘I’ve got my phone out,’ he assured me.
Amber’s magic ran through the runes she’d painted on me, and then my skull started to throb in a dull ache.
Totally manageable, I thought.
‘There,’ Amber breathed.
I opened my eyes as the water in the bowl rippled violently, then stilled.
A face rose from its surface, exactly as I’d remembered him.
Bastion moved instantly.
Click.
Click.
His phone let out an old-school camera-shutter sound as he took the photos. He’d taken two snaps before the image shattered, and pain detonated behind my eyes.
Fuck! Not manageable.
I cried out, clutching my head as the room pitched violently sideways. It felt like a spike had been driven straight through my skull and twisted for good measure.
Amber wiped the potion from my skin with what felt like a cool baby wipe. ‘All done. It won’t get worse,’ she assured me. ‘This is as bad as it gets.’
‘Ow,’ I whimpered.
‘I did warn you,’ she replied but I thought I detected an iota of sympathy somewhere.
I folded forward, nausea surging, vision greying. Ugh. I’d forgotten how truly awful a scry was.
Loki screeched at my pain.
He dive-bombed from his position at the top of the ceiling and landed on my shoulder, pressing his small, warm body against my neck. His wings stroked my skin, feather-soft and grounding.
Easy, Pigdog, he crooned, voice deep and steady. Breathe. I’ll help.
Something warm spread through me.
The pain didn’t vanish entirely, but it dulled. Shifted from a screaming agony to a brutal, grinding ache. Still, it was enough that I could breathe again, enough that I didn’t faint embarrassingly in front of Bastion.
I sagged back into the chair, shaking.
Amber crouched in front of me, green eyes dark with concern. ‘Are you all right, Inspector?’
‘Define all right,’ I rasped.
‘Well, I suspect you’ve got a migraine to deal with and then some.’
‘I’d agree with that assessment,’ I ground out with effort. Skull pounding like a Scottish drum, I closed my eyes against the light and battled the rising nausea.
‘Potions won’t touch it,’ she warned. ‘Your brain’s overstimulated. Mundane and magical. Time for a lie down, Inspector.’
I didn’t argue. I couldn’t. I was no good to anyone like this.
Strong and surprisingly gentle arms led me to my room, pulled off my jacket and shoes, and gently pressed me into bed.
‘I’ll lock up as we leave,’ Bastion promised. ‘And I’ll start digging on the vampyr.’
‘Thanks,’ I mumbled.
I closed my eyes and let the rest of the day dissolve into darkness while Loki perched protectively on my pillow, doing his best to chase away the worst of the pain.