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

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  “This has something to do with the death of your partner, right? You want to believe it wasn’t a suicide?” I asked. His eyes were roaming over my face like two bright spotlights searching for the truth.

  “According to the official reports she took her own life, but that’s a lie,” he said. “I knew her, and she had no reason to kill herself. Someone made it look like a suicide. She told me that someone had been following her for weeks, that she was in danger.”

  I was trying to put my thoughts back together, send calming vibes to his erratic emotions.

  “I don’t know anything about that case, Zach, and I can’t help you,” I explained. “I thought this was going to be a friendly conversation. You don’t have to tell me anything about what happened. Let’s just have a drink.”

  He shook his head, but his eyes were wary, like he was waiting for me to do something out of the ordinary. It wasn’t like I was going to pull a bouquet out of my ass—David Copperfield I was not.

  “You can take your clothes off, then we can get to know each other a little better,” he suggested. “But this ain’t going to happen until you tell me what you are.”

  I knew then that someone else had used charms to keep him away from the truth. He showed the classic symptoms of paranoia. He was right: I was hiding stuff away from him, but he wasn’t ready to hear the truth, to know that his world wasn’t what it seemed.

  “What am I?” I repeated, laughing. “I’m Maxine, the girl with a complicated past, but very simple future.”

  I got up, so I was standing close. A second later, I smiled and stole his precious bottle of tequila, crossing the room. He was playing some kind of game with me and I needed to ease his anger somehow. The lust I had for him brewed deep inside me, as he approached me a moment later, still unsure if he could trust me.

  “I have been working the streets long enough to know that normality doesn’t exist. It’s just a shame that our paths didn’t cross sooner. The missing prince, we both know that he is still in the city, that your kind has taken him.”

  And then it hit me. I finally began to understand why Zach was behaving in such a way, why he wanted me away from this case. Someone must have been filling him with doubts, messing around with his thoughts. I still had no idea what exactly had happened to his partner, but I suspected that another demon was using him against me to steer me away from George. Zachary was used from very beginning.

  “There isn’t such thing as ‘my kind’ Zachary,” I explained, furious with myself that I hadn’t figured this out sooner. The demon who took George must have known that I had an affair with Arthur and that was why Zachary was brought in to assist in the first place.

  Then, before I could put all this back together and work out what was really going on here, Zachary did something that I truly wasn’t expecting. He pushed me against the wall and kissed me with a fierce passion. This whole thing happened so quickly that I completely forgot about the fact that I wasn’t supposed to trust him.

  Chapter 16

  “I did not die, and yet I lost life’s breath”

  ― Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy

  My knees threatened to give out, as he pushed his hard body closer. His mouth captured mine in a hard, demanding kiss. Over the past twelve months, I swore not to let this happen to me again, to endanger my life like this, but in that moment the heat sizzled my blood before my mind could grasp what I was doing. Zachary pushed his hips towards me, and I moaned, aware of the hard bulge pressing against the spot between my legs.

  I was losing my fucking mind. This human was obnoxious, paranoid, and was a complete alpha, but whatever he was doing to me restarted my heart, bringing it thudding back to life. His hand reached out, smoothing down the lines of my hips, as his kiss grew harder, clouding my judgment. He slid his arms around me and grabbed my butt cheeks, lifting me up and carrying me across the room and pushing me down on the table.

  My demonic soul unleashed sparks, my skin grew hotter, blood boiled as he began to thrust his body against mine, the delicious friction giving us a taste of what was to come, both of us breathing hard.

  My hands busied themselves diving into his curls, tangling his hair as he covered my neck with his lips. His kisses pushed me further, consuming my mind with unexpected passion. I shut my eyes, as liquid heat filled every nook of my oversensitive weak body. Finally, there were no flashbacks, no bad memories—in that one sweet moment, there was just me, enjoying making out with this glorious male specimen.

  He sucked on my bottom lip, moving his hand underneath my T-shirt, circling his rough fingers around my hardened nipple. The pressure between my legs grew with every passing moment. I wanted him to tear my clothes apart, to fuck me hard in his home, on this table. The consequences didn’t matter anymore. Our attraction was explosive, and we needed to become one.

  Then we both heard a loud knock, and a second later, the vase on the table crashed to the floor. Zachary pulled away; his eyes bored into mine intensely as he tried to catch his breath. It took me couple of seconds to pull myself back together, to actually remember that I was supposed to keep breathing. I held the heat from his lips that was now boiling in my veins, burning like hot coals on the soles of my feet. I couldn’t remember when I ever lost control like that before. Zachary brushed his finger over my cheek and then winked at me.

  “Stay here, I’ll be right back,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  My T-shirt was lifted, revealing my bare stomach, and my hair was a tangled mess when I jumped off the table and glanced at the mirror. A second ago, I thought he was ready to kill me, and then the sudden anger transformed into passion, stealing away the arguments and his unexplained frustration. No, I couldn’t keep doing this to myself. I had failed myself once, and now I was pushing something that could never work.

  “Hello, handsome. I know I meant to call, but I was in the area, and I thought that I would just pop in.” I heard the feminine, seductive voice coming from the threshold. My heart hadn’t stopped pounding yet, and my oversensitive abilities alerted me that there were more than two horny people inside Zach’s house now.

  A second later, a very human woman entered the living room. She had bleached blond hair cut nicely in a trend bob, her beautiful face was made up immaculately, and she wore a very short skirt that barely covered her thighs. She raised her left eyebrow, eyeing me up and down from the short distance. Zachary was right behind her, his eyes still filled with brewing fire.

  There was a slight pause as she opened her mouth, then closed it. My tangled clothes gave away the fact that just a moment ago, I was lost in the swirl of a passionate embrace with the man of the house. It was easy to read that it wasn’t the first time the woman had been here. She was Zach’s regular.

  “Oh sorry, darling, I had no idea that you had company,” she sang with a very annoying high-pitched tone of voice. At that point, I was lucid enough to get the fuck out of there. I needed to regroup as soon as I could.

  “No worries, I was just leaving actually,” I said.

  “Maxine, wait—”

  “It was nice meeting you,” I cut him off, and rushed out before things got more awkward. Whatever he wanted to say, it didn’t matter. It was a spur of a moment lapse in judgement. We both lost control of our bodies. I flew through the door, aware that the woman in his living room was his usual fuck buddy. Her vibes were crystal clear and I didn’t want to stamp into that territory.

  I had been played, possibly by someone who wanted to see me down or possibly by Rodriguez himself. Whoever was working against me knew about my affair with the prince. Rumours at the palace had circulated, as no one could explain why I left my post so suddenly.

  Zach and his demons weren’t my problem. Missing Prince George was, and I couldn’t afford to get distracted. I had broken the rules once, and I paid the price and suffered to this day. The factions were designed to keep demons under control so that would help to keep order on Earth, and I had to protect my wounded past. My fu
ture was at stake, and the future of others.

  I couldn’t afford to make another mistake like that, especially with another human, and especially with a man like Zachary Quinton. I headed through the dark estate, ready to get lost and never face another day like this again.

  The next two days passed in a haze, and it seemed like I was stuck in my flat for a long seventy-two hours. My phone kept ringing, but I didn’t answer any calls. When I got home the night I made out with Zach, I sent Ricky a quick text message, telling him that I wasn’t going to be in the office on Saturday. At times, we had an understanding. I mentioned that I was planning to work on our case at my own, that I needed some time alone.

  I didn’t hear back from Zach, and maybe that was for the best. He took away my focus. After the episode with the royal family, things became complicated and I kept reminding myself that I had been happy before. Paul came to visit me, and he even brought bottles filled with the magic elixir that was supposed to keep me sane for a while. When the sun went down, and I was intoxicated enough, I wandered off, searching for new clues, talking to old contacts, hoping to find something that could lead me to the elusive missing Prince George. It was a productive weekend in terms of drinking and working, but no one was willing to talk. I didn’t play poker that weekend and it was a first for me.

  I woke up much more sober than usual on Sunday morning. It felt strange to open my eyes with a clear head. Normally during these drunken phases, I was able to block out my toxic thoughts, but that morning everything came back. When I checked my phone, there was a text message from Emma. Ricky must have given her my number. Her daughter’s birthday party was today, and she just texted me her home address with millions of smiley emoticons.

  Yet again, I had forgotten that I made a promise to be there. Now this didn’t seem like a very good idea, but I couldn’t disappoint another person. She made an effort, probably slaved over decorations and food, so this was the least I could do.

  After a quick shower, I pulled my tangled hair into a messy bun, put some clean clothes on and headed out. The first stop was to the toy shop. I had no idea what a little girl Emma’s daughter’s age needed, so I bought Barbie dolls, three in case she didn’t like what I had chosen for her. My chest was tight when I was paying for it. Luckily the stash of a very small emergency fund allowed me to not look like a complete dick in front of other guests.

  Emma lived in Greenwich, and I had to walk half a mile from the tube station to get to her place. All the way, I kept telling myself that I should turn around, that this wasn’t a good idea. My previous experience taught me that I wasn’t quite myself when I was around other mothers. My anxiety shot up when I stood in front of an old terrace house an hour later, fighting with my thoughts, trying to act like this wasn’t an issue for me. After a couple of deep breaths, I forced myself to knock. I was late, but I was much more sober than I usually would be for this time of day. Maybe that was part of the problem, showing up and expecting to be treated like someone who fit in. Several moments later, Ricky opened the door, holding a glass of champagne in his right hand.

  “Maxine, what a treat. I wasn’t expecting to see you here today,” he said, looking good in his blue sweater and black trousers. I shoved the present into his chest.

  “I was invited, but what are you doing here yourself?”

  He gave me his mischievous smile.

  “I was invited, too. The little girl is quite adorable. Besides, there are at least a dozen mothers out in the living room, very yummy mummies, if you know what I’m saying.” He winked at me. I rolled my eyes as he shut the door. A few seconds later, Emma strolled through the corridor, wearing a lemon-coloured dress, a red birthday hat on her head.

  “Max, oh, I’m so glad to see you. I hope you didn’t have to walk far. Come … come meet Suzi and the others. OMG, I’m so excited. I hired a proper magician, and everyone is dying to meet you. They love Ricky …”

  She was still talking, dragging me through the house filled with balloons, cards, and some other decorative crap. Emma’s place was decent enough. It was an old Victorian terrace house filled with a lot of clutter, funky furniture, and sparkly clothes. For a split second, I imagined myself in her skin, living this ordinary life and waking up happy. This whole life was tempting, but I wasn’t cut out for a life like that. I wasn’t the type of woman who needed any semblance of normality.

  In the light spacious living room, a dozen pairs of human eyes landed on me as Emma began introducing me around. The kids were running up and down, screaming and giggling. All the mothers were typical homemakers, ordinary, not the high-end class like I was expecting, which was a good thing.

  “So you and that handsome partner of yours are running the detective agency, right?” a guest called Lucy asked. The woman was in her mid-thirties with a bad perm and overdrawn dark eyebrows. She was on her second glass of wine, and she was worried that her husband would scream about the fact that she had one too many.

  “Yeah, Doomed Cases. We have run it for a few years, but only recently has the business picked up,” I explained, grabbing a glass of champagne. My head was fuzzy, and the temperature of my body was shooting up. Something else burned the back of my mind, the dooming guilt.

  “Wow, that’s a very spooky name. It sounds like you’re dealing with magical stuff,” she whispered, giggling. I gave her a weak smile.

  “Some of my clients can be spooky,” I admitted, hoping that she would drop the subject.

  “Suzi, this is Aunt Maxine from work. She brought you Barbie dolls for your birthday,” Emma jumped in, beaming with pride. I looked down at the small blond creature who was looking at me with her huge brown eyes, holding the dolls in her tiny hands. The wave of emotions suddenly made me sick as memories flooded my head.

  “I like your hair. I want to have colours like that when I’m older,” the child said, swinging her body from right to the left, staring up at my hair in amazement.

  I swallowed hard, pushing myself to get a fucking grip. This wasn’t supposed to make me teary at all.

  “I prefer yours. The blond curls are super awesome, like your Barbie’s hair,” I replied, most likely sounding like an idiot, but at that point I didn’t care anymore. I needed my tequila or a shotgun.

  The girl grinned, mumbled something else about playing with her later, and then ran away. Emma squeezed my shoulder. She was so happy, so relaxed about everything, standing next to the person who was so damaged that she couldn’t even have a proper conversation with a five-year-old child.

  “Oh, Maxine, she loves them. Thank you again for coming. All the mums love Ricky. I bet you can’t wait to have your own kids.”

  I then proceeded to choke on the champagne so hard that Ricky had to come to my rescue. By that time, one of the children dropped something in the kitchen, and all Emma’s attention was luckily diverted away from me.

  “Come on, let’s go to the garden. You need some fresh air, sugar plum,” Ricky muttered, using his own powers to stop me from getting choked up. I grabbed a few more glasses of the bubbly and drank them all in one go. The human alcohol was too weak to numb the turmoil in my heart, but at least it smoothed my crappy mood.

  “Just say it; I know you want to,” I said to him once we were away from the crowd, standing under a wide tree.

  Ricky rubbed his clean-shaven jaw and drank some more. “I won’t. I know that you’re picking yourself up at your own pace,” he said. “I went to The Broken Shoe a couple of nights ago. Paul said that on Wednesday night, you went home with a certain individual. The troublemaker?”

  Fucking Paul and his big mouth. Why on Earth did he have to say anything to Ricky?

  “Yeah, I couldn’t get rid of him after I beat him in poker,” I said. “Don’t worry, he behaved and we are a team now.”

  Ricky then touched my cheek and turned my face, so I couldn’t avoid looking at him.

  “Maxine, are you all right with this? Being here? You should have told Emma that you were sick.
You didn’t have to come,” he said. Yeah, Ricky had read me, and he was simply asking me if I could handle being the other Maxine, the one with a heavy load on her shoulders.

  Chapter 17

  “The experience of this sweet life.”

  ― Dante Alighieri

  I stared at the empty space ahead, trying to put my answer together. Two days ago, I had lost my head, and today I was standing around other people, acting like my addiction wasn’t real. Ricky wanted to make sure that I could cope. He pushed me to keep going, to keep solving cases, to live. He was supportive, and I was lucky to have him; however, that didn’t stop me from thinking about the moment when everything changed.

  “Your Highness, I don’t think it’s a good idea. You’re vulnerable. It’s an open space, and we both know that we shouldn’t be here without at least two more guards,” I said, wondering if this was the day when I was going to lose my well-paid job. Arthur was getting on my nerves, driving through narrow country roads. He woke me up early in the morning and a told me that he had to be somewhere very important. I had my own responsibilities for the day, and he had his personal driver.

  It’d been a couple of weeks since I shook hands with him in the corridor of Buckingham Palace. The roller coaster ride started when he asked me to accompany him to an underground party in one of the clubs in the city several days later, when I was still trying to learn the whole protocol. I was slowly getting used to the fact that Arthur wasn’t one of the most responsible royals in the palace.

  He was going on a tour to Afghanistan in a couple of months, and I had a feeling that he was hoping to have some fun before his freedom was taken away from him. Either way, I was responsible for his safety and quite frankly, fed up with being put in these kinds of situations. I kept ignoring the spark that sizzled between us over the past few weeks. I kept dismissing the fact that he flirted with me on any given occasion, that I enjoyed his charisma, laugh, and his impulsive character.