Doomed Cases Box Set: The Complete Collection Books 1- 4 & Prequel

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  “Wait, please excuse me, but I’m curious. Layla is my good friend and she’s very worried. Have you got any leads? The prince had been difficult lately. His aunt did suspect drugs at first, but I thought that it was something completely different,” she said, and released me. Good, because I was ready to slap her.

  I sighed and relaxed slightly.

  “Evidence has been found that suggested a possible link to drugs. Apparently, the prince was seen with a much older woman, someone from outside the palace. I’m looking into this a bit further,” I said. I felt like she almost forced this confession out of my mouth. This wasn't right. I normally wouldn’t share information about a crime case. Maybe she was a demon after all and was concealing her true nature from me.

  She arched her left eyebrow, smiling widely. I needed to shut my mouth fast. I had no idea what was going on with me.

  “And you must know this because you were close to the other prince, right?” she asked, innocently, like she didn’t mean anything by it. A mad gleam started dancing in her eyes. She knew, she must have; otherwise, why would she bring something like that up? The bitch.

  “I used to protect him, so there was no doubt that we were close,” I replied, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. It was clear that this woman wanted to know juicy details of my encounter with Arthur.

  “I believe that it was more than just protection. You were caught with him in one of the confer … oh, don’t mind me. I know more than you think,” she said, burning me with her intense gaze. Anger rippled through my system, and I was ready to wipe that stupid smile off her face. Alexis had no business asking about my past. It looked like way too many people knew about me and Arthur.

  “What the hell is your problem? Who are you?” I repeated, not able to bite my tongue any longer.

  “I have no problem, Maxine. I’m just a friend who wants to give you friendly advice. Continue with your investigation, but keep your claws away from the prince,” she said, firmly and forcefully. An odd draft of cold air passed over my neck. I felt another person nearby, a demon, but I was too distracted to care. This woman obviously wanted something from me.

  “Or what? Are you threatening me?” I asked, having enough of being pushed around. Friend of the princess or not, I didn’t give a crap anymore.

  “No, Maxine, it’s something for you to remember. The prince has his future laid out for him and he’s focused on his new fiancée. I gently suggest you stay away from him; otherwise, the consequences might be severe. This is coming from the higher end,” she told me, smoothing her long dress, creeping me out even more with an aura that I didn’t understand.

  I was ready to snap, but the voice of reason told me to let it go. I quickly turned around and walked out of the room, heading towards the kitchen. My pulse was speeding, thoughts racing. Royals knew that Arthur was a player and we had always been discreet. There was something not quite right about Alexis Frasier, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was exactly. She appeared to be a human, not a demon, and if she was such a good friend of Layla’s, then why was I only meeting her now?

  Shaking with anger and trying to find the answers to some of my own questions, I bumped into the head chef, Laticia, in the kitchen. She threw herself at me and didn’t let go. I held it together, pushing the discomfort from earlier on away. It felt almost nostalgic to stand in the kitchen. In the past, I had spent quite a lot of time in here, chatting to Laticia about anything and everything. I missed the palace, and I never actually realised before now just how much.

  Laticia and a couple of other members of the staff had never seen the prince with the redheaded woman. Apparently, he had been acting up lately. He was angry and aggressive toward his whole family. Laticia confirmed that he hadn’t been eating much, and a few times, she had seen him with a bottle of odd liquid. This was some kind of progress, but I still had no idea what kind of demon I was dealing with.

  Two hours later, I was leaving the palace through the main courtyard, glad that I didn’t stumble upon Arthur again. My heart was beating hard in my chest, and the softer part of me wanted to run to him and confess that I still loved him. I knew it was impossible; that life wasn’t meant to be. We were much too different, and our worlds clashed.

  As I walked through the long path that would take me back to the main street, I looked back at the palace. A couple of stories up, probably on the third floor, I saw a face. Natalie, Arthur’s fiancée, was staring down at me from the window. My stomach tightened, and for a second, I couldn’t move. She kept staring down at me, probably wondering if I came back to steal her precious Arthur away. She couldn’t have known about the kiss from yesterday. The guards were pretty discreet.

  She was worried and jealous. I didn’t need to be a demon to figure that out. I was with Arthur when they weren’t together. He had mentioned a few times that they went out on dates, but I never thought it was anything serious. Natalie had always been nice to me, and I suddenly felt like yesterday I betrayed her.

  The memory of everything that went wrong twelve months ago suddenly zoomed through me. I turned around and continued to walk back toward the gate, not knowing what the future held for me.

  Everything was supposed to be good, tequila numbed me, but inside, I was torn apart, hurt badly with no way of getting better. Arthur was long lost for me, quickly and without a warning. The only thing that remained was my guilt and the secret that I so desperately wanted to share with him. Maybe I needed to reconsider my decision from the past and give him a chance, see how he would react. Keeping the life-changing moment to myself was selfish and deep down I wasn't a selfish person. I wanted to protect him, protect us, but in the end, I was only hurting us further. It was time to put his and my priorities in order.

  I didn’t go back to the office. When I called and spoke to Emma, Ricky wasn’t back yet. I was starving, so I went back to The Broken Shoe. I felt slightly better when the sun disappeared behind the horizon. Paul served me his traditional fish and chips, and the hot meal eased away my hangover and exhaustion for a bit. I ate, thinking about Zachary Quinton.

  Emma had brought her own laptop from home to set up a spreadsheet with all the cases that the agency had dealt with in the past. She’d told me earlier on over the phone that the files were a complete mess (I knew that) and she wanted to sort everything out electronically. I told her that as long as she was confident enough to take on that kind of job, then I didn’t mind. Ricky had mentioned a few times that we were going to have an audit, but nothing was set in stone just yet.

  Lately we had a lot of cases, but the cash flow was still poor. We needed a boost. The case with the missing prince could bring a lot of revenue, but I had to bring young George back, safe and sound.

  “Empty tonight, Paul,” I pointed out to the retired Watcher when he came in to remove my plate once I finished. It was still early, but there were only two demons in the back, drinking Guinness and talking in hushed voices.

  “It will get busy later. I’m glad you’re all right and that human didn’t kill you,” Paul said. “I should have called Ricky. You drank way too much the other night.”

  “I was fine. Besides, Zach acted like a gentleman. I woke up without my clothes, though.”

  “I told you he wanted to get into your pants.”

  Paul looked tired tonight, like he hadn’t had much sleep last night, but he was right. There was definitely a spark between me and Zach.

  “I think he’s one of those humans who believes in supernatural stuff, in another world. I went to the police station to talk to him. Apparently, his old partner committed suicide.”

  Paul was looking at me with a vacant expression on his face, probably thinking I was sticking my nose into something that I shouldn’t. After years of knowing Paul, I knew he preferred to keep his own affairs to himself.

  We never truly spoke about his time as a Watcher, and I had a feeling that he wasn’t allowed to say much. At times, Paul could read humans much better than I ever could. Most of
his abilities were lost, but he was still able to connect to his demonic soul and use it to his own advantage.

  “You need to be careful with him. That kind of exposure might cost you more than you are prepared to give, Maxine,” Paul mumbled and strolled back to the kitchen with my dirty plate.

  I wanted to play tonight, but I couldn’t be hungover tomorrow. Besides, I was skint. This investigation was moving along slowly, and Ricky was going to be on my case. My mobile was back in the office. I didn’t like taking it with me all the time.

  Several moments later, as I contemplated asking Paul for some tequila, two scruffy-looking female mongrels barged through the front door. They were both blond, flustered, and excited about something.

  “The body was found down by the canals,” one of them whispered, giggling like this was the most exciting thing that she heard in a very long time. I automatically rose back on my feet and moved closer. “It’s one of us apparently.”

  “Yeah, it’s a big deal. Apparently, the head of Leviathan faction is down there. It’s one of his girls,” the other one said.

  Paul stopped polishing the glasses and looked at me.

  “Maxine, you have to go there now. The dead demon has something to do with your case,” he stated.

  I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant, but then I changed my mind. Paul didn’t need to tell me twice; he just knew, like the other Watchers and demons in the city. I had known him long enough to trust him. The two female demons looked at me then to Paul, but I didn’t have time to explain anything to them.

  Outside it was raining again. Harsh cold drops of rain beat over my leather jacket as I ran to the tube station. I spent a good forty minutes getting from Brixton to King’s Cross. No one had to tell me where the police had found the body; the torn emotions, the sadness were sending me all the way to the canals. There was a gate to the underworld somewhere in that area, but only certain demons were able to use it. Sometimes my kind just knew. If a demon or mongrel died, everyone around the area felt it instantly. This didn’t happen often.

  By the time I found the crime scene, the edge of the canals was filled with police, and a crowd of people stood behind the yellow tape, probably trying to get a glimpse of the dead body or blood. There were reporters there too, so the word must have gotten out quickly.

  I walked up to an older officer who stood on the other side of the yellow tape.

  “Let me in. I’m on the case here with Detective Zachary Quinton,” I said, hoping that somehow that could guarantee me a pass. He narrowed his eyes at me and checked me out pretty much from my head to toe.

  “Let her through, Gordon. She might be helpful,” the voice behind me stated, sending chills down my spine. I turned around and abruptly faced Zach, who managed to sneak behind me undetected. That could only mean one thing: I was connecting to his emotions too comfortably.

  Chapter 13

  “I wept not, so to stone within I grew.”

  ― Dante Alighieri

  Someone took my picture when I was passing through the yellow tape. There was a couple more camera flashes as I started walking along a canal with Zach. He was calm, but slightly apprehensive that I had shown up without a warning. The body was lying several meters down, just by the cycling path. The forensic technicians were using black lights and ethanol to check the space for DNA. Most of the time demons died in Hell, and I was surprised that Watchers hadn’t found this poor demon first.

  “How did you know to come here tonight, Flower?” Zach asked, when we stopped on the edge and he turned to look at me.

  “Some women came into the bar blabbing about it, and I had a feeling that I had to be here … you know, kind of like a sixth sense,” I told him, forcing out a smile. The man next to me was aware of my Achilles heel—tequila and Prince bloody Charming. Last night was a blast, and I had way too much fun with him. It was time to get on with my task.

  He grabbed my arm and stopped me from going down to see the corpse. Her energy was circulating around the place, shooting goosebumps alongside my neck. There were a lot of other cops walking around. I spotted two guys I guessed were runners, judging by their outfits, by the police car, probably giving their statements. The mist began drifting around the space, as I blocked the fear, the anger, and sadness. The crowds weakened my abilities, and I didn’t want to be here when the Watchers showed up.

  “I don’t believe that you came here because you heard about it in the pub,” he snapped back as the heat shot down between my breasts, heading south. “I heard that you were looking for me today.”

  I held his dark gaze, trying to convince myself of the fact that his touch being comforting to me meant nothing at all. My breath caught in my throat as lust increased my breathing rate, tingling in places that were supposed to be immune to any attention. Maybe he was right. I shouldn’t have come. I would’ve saved myself a lot of hassle.

  “Well, I needed to speak to you about last night, but the guy at the front desk at the station wasn’t very helpful.”

  His grip tightened, and his eyes narrowed.

  “How did you do that last night?” he asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Outplay me only to lose all your cash. I never lose, Maxine, and I think you cheated just so you could stay on this case with me,” he told me, pulling me closer to him. Crap, what was with this guy and him enjoying manhandling me like this? I kicked his arse once, and I was ready to do it again.

  “Stop being such a sore loser, Zachary, and get the hell away from me,” I hissed, angry that I was suddenly feeling all these strange and wonderful sensations. “I can easily embarrass you in front of all your colleagues, and trust me, you don’t want that.”

  He smirked and looked down admiring the other revealed parts of my body. Okay, this was wrong, but he made me a little wetter in certain departments.

  “I care about my reputation, Maxine, and I don’t want to hurt you. Now let’s get on with business,” he said, finally letting go of me.

  The body was partly covered, washed all the way up on the edge. As we got closer, I sensed demons nearby. I had seen many dead people in my short life, but never a real corpse of a demon. I had heard stories that our bodies simply burned when our time came. The female demon was possibly in her late forties. Her pale almost white face was bruised, left eyebrow cut. Her wide blue eyes were parted, and most of her clothes were in pieces. She must have been in the water for several hours, as the corpse appeared to be in a well-preserved condition. It wasn’t something that I ever wanted to see again; down here the corpse looked more like a human than any other supernatural creature.

  She also had long red hair. Yep, it was the one small significant detail that mattered right in that moment.

  “May I?” I asked, hoping to examine her closely. Zach wanted to say no, but he took something from his pocket and handed it to me.

  “Fine, but use gloves. I want to make sure that forensics has a chance to scrub everything off her later on,” he said. I put on the white latex gloves and started brushing her hair off her face. I noticed deep, purple bruises all over her arms and cleavage. She must have been beaten badly before she was killed. This didn’t make much sense. As a demon, she could have used her power to defend herself or at least attempt to.

  After I made sure that I hadn’t missed any other unusual signs, I started checking her pockets, thinking that Zach or the other cops must have already emptied them out earlier on. I didn’t find anything in her jacket or jeans, but when I lifted her sweater, there was a small bag with hair attached to the other side of her cardigan.

  “Wow, that’s unusual,” I said, and got up waving the bag in front of Zach’s face. He grabbed it, frowning.

  “It’s a bunch of hair,” Zach stated, looking at it like it contained some kind of bomb.

  “Hair, it’s red hair, and I bet you it belongs to Prince George,” I said, before I could stop myself. I took a breath and released the absorbed emotions and energy from the gathering cro
wd around the crime scene. An electric shiver passed over my spine, and I inhaled deeply, aware of the crackling energy that was dissipating from the space, getting it out of my system.

  Zach grabbed my hand then, and when our eyes met his pupils dilated. My inner self connected with the dead demon, and sometimes when it happened, my eyes would shimmer. I was so pumped with my new discovery that for a split second, I forgot that I wasn’t around my own kind.

  “How do you know who the hair belongs to?” he demanded, staring at me intensely, like he was certain that he saw something in my eyes. I meant to keep my mouth shut, but my assumption was correct. As soon as I touched the bag, I knew that the hair inside belonged to the missing prince. Zachary was supposed to be unaware of my abilities, but he was much more sensitive to our world than anyone else around here. I suppose I could blame the tequila for making me a little sloppy, and I was still paying the price for messing around with a royal.

  “I’ll tell you, but stop squeezing my arm. People are staring,” I hissed, narrowing my eyes. I was in so much trouble already. If the prince was dead, then I was going to be called down to Hell, and now Zachary was hypersensitive to my abilities, aware that I was hiding stuff from him. None of this was good for my business.

  “I don’t care, Flower. I want to know how you know that this hair belongs to the missing prince,” he repeated, forcefully.

  “Is everything all right, Zach?” a slightly overweight cop asked, standing closer to the edge of the crime scene, looking down at us. Zach didn’t let go of my arm, until we both felt the heat brewing between us. Our attraction was transparent, and I could deny it ‘til the cows came home, but I couldn’t stop myself imagining what if.

  “Fine,” he replied, releasing me. “We need to send this to the lab ASAP. Apparently, the hair inside the bag belongs to Prince George.”

  The cop didn’t ask any questions. He took the evidence off my hands and began climbing back up the embankment.