Hell's Bell

by Keri Arthur

  Roger opened the door and then waved me inside. The apartment was far more spacious than the one above our café, with a full-size kitchen and a large open living room. There were two doors leading off this—one was a bathroom and the other a bedroom.

  I headed across the white carpet—which was a rather odd color choice for someone who was a vampire’s meal ticket—and went into her bedroom. If I wanted to find Marlinda, then I needed to find something she wore often enough to hold some hint of her presence.

  The bedroom was again white, but the floral cushions adorning the bed provided much-needed splashes of vibrant color, as did the deep blue curtains. The room itself was extraordinarily neat; even the jewelry on the dressing table was arranged in precise lines rather than being thrown into a somewhat jumbled pile—my usual habit when undressing.

  I raised a hand and skimmed it over the various chains, watches, and earrings on the dresser, but there was nothing that even remotely stirred my psychic senses. I frowned and swung around, pensively studying the rest of the room. There was no jewelry on either bedside table, and she certainly didn’t look the type to place anything inside her pillowcases, which had been the teenager’s hiding place of choice. My gaze stalled on the wardrobe, and instinct stirred. I walked across and slid one of the doors aside. There, on the floor, was a small safe.

  I glanced at Roger. “I don’t suppose you or your mistress know the code?”

  His gaze went inwards for a moment, and then he said, “Five-three-nine-one.”

  I bent, tapped in the code, and the door opened. Inside was an assortment of shiny boxes and silken pouches, the contents of which were no doubt worth more than our entire damn building.

  I reached into the safe and skimmed them. At the very back, I got a response. I pulled the blue silk wrap free, and then walked over to the bed to unroll it. Inside were four diamond necklaces; I touched each one, but it wasn’t until I got to the last—and smallest—that I had a response.

  But it was a cold, somewhat murky sensation that had trepidation stirring anew.

  “You found something?” Roger asked.

  “I found something that’s responding to my psychic senses,” I replied. “Whether it will lead to anything is another matter entirely.”

  I plucked the necklace free, then rolled up the rest and placed them back into the safe. Once it was locked, I took a deep breath, and then closed my fingers around the pendant and reached.

  The response remained muted—vague—but there was at least enough of a connection to follow.

  “This way.” I headed out of the apartment.

  Roger locked the door and then followed me down the stairs, his steps so light they were barely audible.

  “Do you wish to take the car?” he said, once we were again outside.

  I hesitated. Given the sensations coming from the pendant, Marlinda was either some distance away, or this necklace simply hadn’t been worn enough to maintain a strong connection. If it was the latter, then Maelle was out of luck. But if it was simply a faint connection, then I risked trudging about all night in an effort to pin down her location—and that wasn’t something I wanted. Not when I had better things to do.

  “Car,” I said. “But we may have to go slow.”

  He nodded and motioned me toward the vehicle. Once we were inside, I said, “Continue up Forest Street until I say otherwise.”

  The driver nodded, slipped the car into gear, and carefully pulled away from the curb. We passed a couple of streets and a small reserve before the pendant again pulsed against my hand. “Right at the next street.”

  “Gingell,” Roger said, more for his mistress’s sake than mine, I suspected.

  We swept around the park, and the road straightened, following the rail line up toward Walker Street and the botanical gardens.

  The foreboding that had stirred earlier found new life, although it wasn’t really a surprise that I was being drawn back to the park.

  “Stop,” I said, and climbed out the minute we had.

  It was late afternoon and the sun shone brightly. Nothing tainted the air other than the scent of eucalyptus, and the merry sound of children playing intermingled with the constant flow of traffic—sounds that spoke of life and happiness.

  But that’s not what we were about to find.

  I took a deep breath, released it slowly, and then walked on. Into the park, past the grove of trees, around the edge of the lake, and then beyond the rotunda.

  It was only at the point where I’d heard the loud splash and seen the ripples spreading out across the still, dark water that I stopped.

  “Have you lost the trail?” Roger immediately asked.

  “No.”

  “Then why do we stop?”

  “Because the trail leads into the water.”

  “Ah.” He contemplated the lake for a moment. “At what point of the shoreline does your talent suggest you enter?”

  My gaze shot to him. “I’m not entering that lake at any point.”

  “Nor did I mean to suggest that,” he said. “Show me where.”

  The sensations emanating from the pendant were becoming fainter, the diamond cooler, despite the heat of my grip. I pressed the stone deeper into my palm, trying to eke out an exact location. After a moment, I walked to the bank’s edge and said, “Right here.”

  He stopped beside me, his gaze sweeping the dark, still water. “How deep is this lake?”

  “I have no idea. Nor do I have any idea whether this is merely a false lead. It’s entirely possible that Marlinda simply tossed something of hers into the lake.”

  “And there is no way to uncover if that might be the case?”

  “No. As I said, psychometry isn’t always reliable.”

  He sighed and then stripped off his shoes and socks, and rolled up his pants. His legs were thin, bony, and white. Very white. Obviously, his mistress wasn’t the only one who avoided sun exposure.

  He waded carefully into the water. Mud stirred, blooming around his ankles and concealing the glow of his feet. He inched farther in, carefully sweeping the lake’s bottom with each foot before taking the next step. The water slowly climbed past his ankles and up his calves. I wondered how far he’d be willing to go—and if he even had a choice in the matter.

  He slowly moved deeper; the bloom of mud got thicker, and every step sent bigger waves rolling away.

  One of those waves very briefly revealed a flash of red.

  “Did you see that?” I asked.

  “I did.” His voice was cool, without emotion. “It might not be who we seek though.”

  I had no idea who that comment was aimed at—his mistress or me.

  It didn’t really matter either way.

  He took two more steps, and then stopped. “My toes have just touched something.”

  I crossed my arms against the chill racing across my skin. “It might be wise to call the rangers before we do anything further.”

  “No. Not until we are sure what it is we’ve found. It’s pointless getting involved with an investigation if we have found nothing more than a discarded dress.”

  While that flash of red had undoubtedly been a dress, we both knew what else was down there—Marlinda’s body.

  And the part of me that was inclined to guilt certainly didn’t want to know if I might have been able to save her life last night if I’d only done a more thorough investigation of that splash.

  He reached a hand down into the water and, after a second or two, grunted and tugged something upright.

  That something was a red dress.

  A red sparkly dress.

  Inside of it was a woman.

  Chapter Four

  I briefly closed my eyes and swore internally. This wasn’t how I’d wanted the hunt to end.

  “Is that Marlinda?” I asked softly.

  “Yes.” Roger’s tone was without inflection, but weirdly echoed Maelle’s. “I think it best you ring the rangers now. But this evil will be avenged.” />
  “We have no real idea what happened here, Maelle. I wouldn’t be making hasty threats—”

  “There is nothing hasty about the threat,” he said, the tone still his mistress’s. “Whatever help you need to track down the thing responsible for this murder, I will give.”

  “Except I’m not tracking it. If we’re dealing with a soul eater, the RWA will be called in. I’m not a strong enough witch to even contemplate such an action.”

  “That is a statement I seriously doubt, but nevertheless, my offer stands.”

  “Then make it to the rangers and the RWA.”

  “I do not wish to deal with the rangers more than necessary. Nor do I believe that you will be allowed to stand apart in this fight. Like it or not, you are this reservation’s witch, and the task will fall on your shoulders.”

  “This reservation deserves better than an underpowered witch.”

  “This reservation seems to think otherwise, if the wild magic is anything to go by.”

  Unease stirred. “What do you know about the wild magic?”

  “Only that it exists here, and seems to have an unusual... sentience.”

  That it did... and I had some theories as to why that might be the case, especially given there was a distinctly feminine feel to that awareness. But I’d been putting off confirming or denying those theories, simply because it meant asking Aiden to take me to the place where his sister had been murdered—and I really hadn’t wanted to dredge up those painful memories. Not when his aura still ran with the heavy weight of his sorrow.

  “That magic seems intent on protecting this reservation,” I commented. “I hope you don’t plan to use it, as you might not like the resulting push back.”

  “My mistress holds no designs on the magic,” Roger said, his tone his own and his expression amused. “She certainly has no need of its power.”

  Because she had enough of her own? That was a somewhat scary thought, and one I hoped wasn’t true.

  I dug out my phone and called Aiden. He answered on the second ring. “Every time you call me out of the blue like this, you’ve found a body. Please don’t tell me that's the case again.”

  “Then I won’t tell you.”

  He swore softly. “Where?”

  “In the lake, near the rotunda.”

  He was silent for a moment, and then said, “Is there a connection to last night’s murder?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll call the crew and be there in a few minutes.” He paused. “Please wait this time.”

  “I will.”

  I hung up. Roger no longer held the small section of red dress, and Marlinda’s body had sunk back underneath the water.

  “What are you planning to do?” I asked. “Stay or go?”

  “Given there are plenty of people who have seen me accompany you here, it would seem suspicious if I now left.” He walked out of the lake but didn’t bother putting his shoes or socks back on. “Cooperation with the ranger will also ensure easier access to information.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure about that, given the rangers tended to play their cards—and information—very close to their chests, but I was more than happy to let him and Maelle find that out for themselves.

  I rubbed my arms and watched the ripples slowly die away. Roger was once again statue-like, and it was rather unnerving. It was almost as if he shut himself down to conserve energy.

  It took less than ten minutes for Aiden to arrive. With him was Bryon, a ranger I’d only met once and had never been officially introduced to. He was wearing a wetsuit under his jacket, and was carrying scuba gear.

  Aiden stopped beside me, one arm lightly brushing mine as he offered me a take-out coffee cup with the other. “Figured you might need this. Who’s your friend?”

  “Roger Smith,” he said, before I could. “My employer—Maelle Defour—asked for Ms. Grace’s assistance in finding a friend who was missing. This is not the result we’d wished.”

  “I can imagine.” Aiden’s voice was neutral. “I gather you went in?”

  “Indeed. It was the way to uncover what, exactly, we might have found.”

  “How far in from the bank did you discover the body?”

  “About twenty feet.”

  Aiden grunted and glanced at the other ranger. “Byron, you want to get ready?”

  As the man obeyed, I said, “Sorry about messing up our plans like this.”

  He glanced at me, his expression a mix of amusement and frustration. “As dates go, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

  “Nor I. But you can always drop by the café once this has been wrapped up.”

  “I’ve no idea how long we might be here—it could be late, as the lake will have to be swept.”

  I shrugged. “It would appear I’ve nothing else better to do tonight.”

  “Good.” Amusement creased the corners of his eyes. “I’d hate to think I could be so easily replaced.”

  “And I’d hate you to think I’ve nothing better to do than wait around for you,” I mused. “Perhaps I should go out.”

  He grinned. “Says the woman who waited several weeks for me to ask her out again.”

  “Smugness is not an attractive trait in a man.”

  “It’s not smugness. More a confidence in a mutual attraction.” His amusement died as Bryon moved toward the water. “I’ll have to ask the two of you to move back to the rotunda. Once Jaz has taped off the immediate area, she’ll take your statements.”

  I hadn’t even noticed the other ranger’s arrival. As Roger and I made our way back to the rotunda, I saw the brown-haired woman reeling out the blue-and-white tape. I ducked under it and then climbed the step and sat on the bench with my back to the lake, and sipped my coffee. I didn’t need to witness Marlinda’s body being dragged out of the water—not when I was still struggling with nightmares after witnessing a zombie’s head being blown apart.

  Roger, it seemed, did need to watch events unfold. Or maybe Maelle did. Maybe she simply wasn’t willing to accept the truth without seeing it with her own eyes. Or, rather, Roger’s.

  Once the area was secure, Jaz—who was tall and slender, with lightly tanned skin that suggested she wasn’t from one of this reservation’s packs—stepped into the rotunda and took our statements. With that done, we were released.

  “My mistress wishes to thank you for your assistance tonight,” Roger said, as we walked back to his car. “And also wishes to reassert her offer of help should you need it.”

  “I won’t, because I’m hoping this is the end of it, but thanks.”

  “There is no ending, not until the person responsible for this murder is caught,” he replied.

  “Not to belabor the point, but that is a task for the rangers and the RWA, not me.”

  “If you truly believe that you will not be called into this hunt, then you are a fool.” His tone once again echoed his mistress’s. “And we both know neither is the case.”

  I didn’t say anything, even though I very much suspected she was right. I drained the last of the coffee, then dumped the cup into the nearby bin. Roger and his driver returned me to the café, and Belle had a large glass of wine waiting for me as I stepped through the door.

  “Thought you might need to drown your disappointment,” she said.

  I took a drink and then said, rather glumly, “It’ll take more than one glass to do that.”

  “Which is why I have left the bottle uncorked and waiting on the table.”

  “You think of everything.” I moved across the room and sat down. “How did the research go?”

  She wrinkled her nose as she claimed the chair opposite. “I found a couple of mentions of soul eaters in one of her books, but there’s nothing of a specific nature. I’ll dig some of her older books out of storage. I did uncover some interesting facts about your man ghoul, though.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Like what?”

  “Like the fact they don’t share the blood of their masters, but
rather their energy.”

  “So they’re some sort of zombie?”

  “No, because they’re alive, and zombies are dead.” She took a sip of her wine. “From what Gran noted, a thrall is created in a magic-based ceremony that involves the swearing of allegiance and consuming a bloody piece of the vampire’s flesh.”

  A shudder ran through me at the thought. “Why flesh and not blood?”

  “Because eating the flesh, when combined with magic, makes master and thrall one. He’s given eternal life in return for eternal service.”

  “Which is not something I’d imagine most sane people would ever contemplate.”

  She shrugged. “I suppose it depends on who your master is. Maelle seems sane enough—for a vampire, at least.”

  “Or she’s simply putting up a very good front.” I leaned back in my chair and swirled the wine around in the glass. “She all but admitted she’s capable of quite powerful magic.”

  Belle frowned. “You don’t think she’s behind the murder last night, do you?”

  “No, if only because the woman who was with Aron last night was one of her feeders, and Maelle’s seriously pissed about her now being dead.”

  “Do you think their deaths are connected?”

  “Yes, though I have no idea how. Marlinda obviously wasn’t a soul eater, given Maelle is alive and well.”

  “Presuming, of course, vampires do have souls.”

  “Even if they don’t, I suspect Maelle has enough magical nous to sense that Marlinda was no longer present in her flesh.”

  “Which means the soul eater must have killed Marlinda before it feasted on Aron.”

  “Aron wouldn’t have looked like he’d simply gone to sleep if he’d witnessed his companion being murdered.”

  “True.” Belle finished the remainder of her wine and then topped up both glasses. “More research is required, it seems.”

  “I might do that while I’m waiting for Aiden to arrive.” I paused and glanced over at the clock. “Aren’t you meeting with Zak in ten minutes or so?”

  “Yes, but we’re only going over to his place to watch some movies, so he’s getting my regular fabulous self rather than the dolled-up version.” Her grin grew. “Of course, my normal self is more than most men can handle.”