by R K Dreaming
Something Sinister
This Way Comes
Midlife Wishes Book 2
R.K. Dreaming
Copyright © 2021 by R.K. Dreaming.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author. The people, places and situations in this book are products of the author’s imagination and in no way reflect real or true events.
Something Sinister This Way Comes
By R.K. DREAMING
Seeking a midlife miracle just got harder.
I came home to magical Brimstone Bay to find a miracle, but found big trouble instead.
A rascal of a genie.
A sinister serial killer who refuses to be caught.
My psychic powers gone downhill.
To put my life back together, I need to help my genie Charming find his freedom first.
The problem is that the one person who can set Charming free has been killed by The Reaper, the very same serial killer who has been hunting me all my life.
Nothing about this murder is what it seems. When tensions get high, Charming and I fall out over how to solve the case.
Can we catch the killer before the killer catches us?
And more importantly, how can I find my path to happiness once Charming is free? Because like it or not, I’ve grown attached.
I’m seeking a miracle, and right when I thought I found it, I'm on the verge of losing it.
Note to readers: This book is written in British English.
Prologue
BRIMSTONE BAY
It was early morning, not yet dawn, when Noah Clooney, tired personal assistant to a Hollywood superstar, pulled up his car outside a large house in Brimstone Bay. He parked outside a smaller guest house set away from the main mansion, and hurried to unload the luggage from the trunk.
His passenger, aging Hollywood hunk Garrett Clooney, emerged lazily from the back seat, looking irritable.
“I don’t see why I can’t stay in the main house,” he complained.
“Sorry,” Noah muttered, eager to get home. “Marilyn said the guest rooms aren’t ready yet.”
“I don’t know why you Humbles wanted to live in Brimstone Bay anyway,” Garrett snapped, following Noah, who was lugging Garrett’s heavy bags towards the guest house entrance.
“It’s only temporary,” said Noah. “Marilyn’s not sure she wants to stay here yet.”
“Marilyn, Marilyn, Marilyn,” mocked Garrett.
Noah flushed. He’d told himself so often that Garrett was just tired, but really he suspected Garrett resented Noah’s recent change in fortune. Noah had got himself a beautiful new wife and a beautiful new life, and Garrett had never liked change, especially when it came to his devoted assistant.
Garrett looked across to the big house and smirked. “Lights are all off. Wifey must be out.”
Noah shook his head. “Nah, she’s sleeping.”
Because of Garrett, Noah had spent the first month of his married life away from his lovely new wife.
First Garrett had insisted he couldn’t do without a personal assistant while finishing up filming a demon hunter movie. Then he’d made Noah accompany him to Ireland where one of Garrett’s director buddies was filming an epic historical saga. It had not gone well. Seeing that the historical saga he’d turned down was already being spoken of as Oscar-worthy, Garrett had blamed Noah for letting him take on that ‘ridiculous stakes and axes’ movie instead, refusing to remember that Noah had warned him against it.
But Noah had been grateful; without Garrett, he would never have met his Marilyn.
Knowing he’d be coming home to her had made it all bearable. But that was before things had started going wrong.
Seeing the sappy look on Noah’s face, Garrett said, “Trouble in paradise? You should have made her come with us, and she wouldn’t have had to suffer that media storm on her own.”
Noah’s jaw tightened. Marilyn had called him frantically earlier on in the week. Someone had leaked news of their secret wedding to the world press. Marilyn was one of Hollywood’s most famous leading ladies, and everyone had wanted a snap of her with her new husband. Her being forced to fire their housekeeper a few days ago had not helped matters either. Poor Marilyn had hated being in the big house all alone.
Fear of being alone was an affliction of hers. She’d been so happy when he’d called to say he was finally coming home.
Eager to get it done, Noah hauled Garrett’s hefty suitcases into the guest house and all the way to Garrett’s bedroom. Before he could leave, Garrett said, “Check the usual websites again, okay? Make sure there’s nothing on them to make the old wifey mad.”
“Already done,” said Noah.
“Do it again.”
Noah opened his mouth to protest, but Garrett scowled. “Just do it,” he snapped.
Noah nodded. He hated the big secret and the many little secrets that Garrett was keeping from his own lovely wife, but he knew better than to argue.
With immense relief, Noah wished his cousin goodnight and jogged down the driveway. Humming quietly, he let himself into the big house, not quite sure what would be waiting for him.
Things had been so wonderful just a week ago. His angel Marilyn, with her gleaming golden hair and her twin dimples and her laughing eyes. She would have been all pleased with herself, quietly giggling as she waited in their darkened bedroom to surprise him. The bed would have been lit up by a thousand candles, blushing rose petals everywhere.
“Honey, I’m home!” Noah called, too quietly for anyone to hear.
He made his way into the lounge, treading carefully to avoid the packing boxes everywhere.
He tossed his jacket onto the sofa on his way towards the stairs. At first, he thought the lump at the base of the stairs was one of his holdalls. Then he remembered he only had the one holdall, since he always packed light, and it was in his hand.
Noah switched on a lamp. The thing at the bottom of the stairs became clear. It was a man.
Noah knew in an instant that the guy was dead, even before he fully registered the red at the back of the guy’s head.
“No,” he said in a strangled voice.
He leapt over the guy and raced upstairs. He threw open the master bedroom door, heart racing because of what he expected to see. Marilyn was on the bed, lying among the rumpled blood-sodden sheets. His Marilyn.
Noah screamed a wail of grief he’d never thought himself capable of. On the wall behind him was a massive red clawed pawprint, the mark of The Reaper, the dripping blood already dry.
Chapter 1
SIGOURNEY
“So it was her all along?” I murmured, looking sadly at the smiling face of the gorgeous young woman. Her image dominated the front page of the newspaper we’d picked up on our way in to Central London.
‘The Reaper Strikes Again!’ screamed the headline. ‘Actress Marilyn Hepburn Murdered!’
My genie, Charming, looked over my shoulder, and nodded at the photograph. He looked weary, as if the murder of the young woman had wiped out not just all of his energy, but all of his remaining hope.
He was walking slightly behind me, his broad shoulders and moody demeanour keeping strangers from knocking into me. Charring Cross Road was crowded at this time of a Saturday evening, and I was nervous in crowds, still not used to having a perfectly healthy body after a lifetime of having bones as fragile as glass.
Being healthy wasn’t stopping me from shivering. Winter in England was cold. The strangers all around us carried a merry, excited energy however, their lives untouched by the murder of the famous Marilyn Hepburn. After all, Christmas was just a couple of weeks away. It was supposed to be a time of year for celebrating.
“Amelie Assisi,” I murmured, unable to take my eyes off her photograph. “I cannot believe she ran away at just twelve, and reinvented herself as Hollywood’s most famous actress. Marilyn Hepburn, of all people! Pretending so convincingly to be nothing but a Humble. My gosh, she must have been remarkable. I feared maybe she’d be living in poverty somewhere, always terrified, hiding away from the world.”
Casting a glance backwards at Charming’s grim face, I felt a stab of guilt. She had been killed just two nights ago, when he had been so near to finally finding her. And here was I, acting like everyone else, as if she was a stranger.
Amelie Assisi had been Charming’s last descendant in this world, the only one who could have freed him from the curse that bound him to the lamp and made him a genie, forced into servitude for eternity.
I felt a pang at the thought that he must have had a child once. He never spoke of his past, and I was too afraid to ask.
“You’ll do it, Charming,” I said quietly. “You’ll bring her killer to justice.” We both hoped this one last act of the love might free him from the curse.
“Yep, catch The Reaper who’s evaded justice for decades. Child’s play,” he said with a glibness I knew he was not feeling. Our last hunt for that brutal serial killer had ended badly.
Charming’s fist was clenched, but he suddenly removed the paper from my grasp and dumped it firmly in a bin we passed.
“That paper isn’t going to tell us anything useful,” he said. “They don’t even know that she was once sweet little Amelie, who saw her mother brutally murdered, the only one who knew that monster’s face. And that he’s found her and killed her for it.”
He didn’t mention that maybe it had been my determined hunt for The Reaper that had got Amelie killed. I felt another horrid stab of guilt.
“They’ll figure out who she is eventually,” I said softly.
“Not before I catch him,” he growled.
“We,” I reminded him.
He scowled now, looking unconvinced. I knew why. With my psychic gifts gone, I feared I would not be much use. Had I known the price of the wish I had made to be healthy, I would never have made it.
Leaving behind the crowded street, we turned into a small and twisty little alleyway that ended at a graffiti-covered brick wall. When we got near enough, the brick wall completely faded away in front of our eyes — something it did not do for Humbles. In its place stood a row of tall and very thorny trees. Even the trunks were thorny. Beyond them, the bustling Magicwild Market was visible.
I felt a child-like jolt of anticipation. I’d rarely had the chance to come to this very special place, a heart of magical England, because my life-long employers, the Sentinel Alliance, did not have free access to this place.
“Are you sure that this is a good idea?” he said, still glowering as he edged between some very nasty looking thorns.
I avoided the question.
“Was the market always like this?” I asked, hungry to know more about his past. All I knew was that once, a very long time ago, he had been a wizard.
He shrugged. “Pretty much.”
We walked into a busy cobbled street, both sides packed with magical shops. Christmas-themed street stalls were crowded with lively witches and wizards, children jostling around them, little voices raised in excitement as they examined the numerous magical wares.
Glowing snow globes with tiny characters enacting stories inside them. Christmas tree ornaments that wriggled and danced and sang in chorus.
One toddler had smashed a jar of multicoloured luminous tree beetles that were now crawling all over her, as she writhed and chortled in glee. Her mother cried out in dismay and struggled to pick them off her.
“Hold still, Nancy!”
Little Nancy wriggled, and squealed, “No squish bugs, mummy! No squish bugs!” She had dark pigtails that bounced as she danced, and waved her toy wand determinedly at her mummy as if to stop her.
I felt a pang of heartache, wondering if my own daughter, whose childhood I had never known, had been exactly like that adorably fierce little child. I imagined so.
“This way,” said Charming, seizing hold of my arm and tucking it firmly into his own so that I would speed up to his rapid pace.
He marched us all the way to the looming, gilded doors of the infamous Draekvault Bank, before pausing to ask me again, “Are you sure about this?”
I nodded. “What’s the alternative? Go skulking back to that shack in the Grim Forest as if I was still a fugitive on the run from the law? There is no longer a warrant out for my arrest. I have to reclaim my life, act like who I used to be, or people will treat me like a criminal forever. I can’t solve this case by skulking around.”
He lowered his voice. “You can’t solve it with your psychic gifts either. You don’t have them anymore.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” I said a touch acidly.
I had forgiven him for the loss of them. He had not known they would be taken away by the magic. But that didn’t mean that it didn’t still hurt.
I shook off his arm, and he let go reluctantly.
“I don’t want you rushing into this for my sake,” he said. “I know you want to help me catch him, but maybe you should think about what you really want from your life. I’ll be gone once this is all over, but you’ll have to face the consequences.”
I felt a jolt of heartache at this reminder that his time with me was only temporary. I had two more wishes left, and then he would be gone forever. One couldn’t hold onto a genie.
“Maybe it’s best if you back off,” he continued determinedly. “You can’t afford to incriminate yourself again when the law wants any excuse to put you behind bars. I can do this alone.”
“I have thought about it,” I whispered, cutting him off. “I want to catch him too, remember? He killed my mother! And my daughter and I are both on his list. And so are too many other frightened women out there in the world, living in fear because they know he will come for them one day. He’s a monster, and I want him gone every bit as much as you do. And this,” — I pointed at the Draekvault — “is the way to do it!”
I charged into the opulent marble interior of the witching world’s most famous bank before I could change my mind.
Stalking to the desk that was reserved for VIP clients, I said in my haughtiest voice, “I am Her Grace, the Oracle Sigourney Maltei. I wish to withdraw my gold.”
Had the draekin behind the counter been anything but the cool-blooded kin of dragonkind, my announcement would have caused a flurry of cossetting and simpering enquiries.
As it was, the draekin, a woman with shimmering scales and magnificently glowing eyes, checked my identity and efficiently carried out my orders concerning the gold that I had painstakingly saved up, banking it here to keep it safe from my life-long employers.
In less than fifteen minutes I was walking away, purse heavy with gold, and reassured by the draekin that the rest of it would be available in a bank account in Brimstone Bay. I knew that it wouldn’t be long before a great many people who had no love for me knew exactly what my plans were.
Charming followed me out, casting a doubtful glance back at the draekin, who was watching him coolly.
“You’ve as good as told the Sentinels you’re back in action, and that you’re headed to Brimstone Bay,” he warned. “And the Conclave and your—”
I cut him off. “They won’t care.”
Charming snorted. “No? You mean the Sentinels aren’t chafing because they think you’re no better than a common criminal, who not only snubbed them after a life-time in their care, but who’s managed to avoid a prison sentence too?”
“Their care
? More like a life-time of servitude. I’ve given them the best years of my life, helped them bring hundreds of evil beings to justice. And all along, they told me my daughter died at birth! I am done caring about what they think.”
“What about your father?” he asked quietly.
I sighed. “Father will find me whether I’m hiding or out in the open. At least if I’m out in the open, everyone will know if he comes for me. He cares about his reputation too much. It’ll buy me time.”
“Yeah, time for him to lay careful plans to disappear you permanently and painfully when nobody is looking.”
I grinned. “Aw, you do care about me.” I winked. “But hey, as long as you’re here, I just need to make a wish to get out of trouble.”
He rolled his eyes. He knew full well by now that I had no intention of so carelessly wasting my wishes. Not to mention my newfound dread of their side-effects.
We exited the market and found a quiet alley, from where Charming etherhopped us straight to Brimstone Bay, a short walk from the mansion that I had rented earlier in the day.
After we let ourselves in, Charming looked around the vast interior with its marble floors and stone pillars and velvet couches, and raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? Your gold is going to run out in no time.”
“Got to keep up appearances,” I said, marching to the vast fireplace and doing my best to start up a fire with the logs and matches that had been left there. “How can I expect to be treated like the great oracle if I don’t live like the oracle?”
“That pretence is going to wear out quickly.” His eyes narrowed. “Didn’t you say you had another stash of gold hidden in Brimstone Bay? We should have just used that. At least that way, people wouldn’t have had any warning you were back in town.”
