The Divine Roses (Jake & Dean Investigations Book 3)

by Richard Amos

  Bloody Orla had been there at their stupid bollocking picnic, then went to Mila’s, hanging around like a fly around shit. Okay, Dean was more like honey, but she so wasn’t a bee.

  Man, I needed to stop this with her. I mean, was I really shocked she’d be there too?

  No.

  At least Dean didn’t fully trust her, that this unease wasn’t me being a fruitcake and jealous dickhead.

  Much.

  Ugh.

  Jealousy was a dirty thing. There was seriously no need for it at all, but there it was, a tiny beastie tapdancing on my heart.

  Most of my insecurities were dead. I’m talking a long time six feet under. I wasn’t a mess anymore, hadn’t been for years. As scary as my time in Coldharbour was, it’d left me in a better place. I’d come out of it with new friends, the love of my life, and a daughter. The Jake Winter who’d been a model, crashed his career with drugs, lost his husband, dangled over the edge of oblivion, was this new guy. Me. Better. Stronger. Full of light instead of shadows. Glass full, jacked up on love.

  I wasn’t sliding back to that shit. Jealousy had killed my marriage long before it’d actually fallen apart before Michael had cheated and been murdered. All in the past. Done. Moving on meant moving on.

  No tumbling back.

  I stood up, shaking out my hands.

  I’m so much better than this.

  Orla was nothing. A friend from way back.

  Dean’s mine. There’s no reason for me to doubt that.

  “Dick,” I mumbled.

  “Heard that!” Lou squealed. “You know what to do, Daddy.”

  Wow. Nothing ever got past her, did it? Over to the swear jar, I went. The bloody price had gone up to two euros a curse word.

  I was gonna be bankrupt in a year.

  Dean came into the room. Hair swept back, black jeans, red shirt, four buttons open to show off his sexy flesh in a sexy V-shape I wanted to give a sexy lick.

  Bet Orla does too.

  Fuck off!

  At least I kept that inside.

  “You look amazing,” I said.

  He flashed me his pearly whites. “Thanks, baby. Does this shirt go with the jeans?”

  “Of course.”

  They’ll look better on the floor. Ha ha!

  He nodded. “Looking sharp yourself.”

  I really hated my hair. Too short, I’d decided. But the outfit was okay. I was pleased with it. These new jeans were awesome—black and white spatter pattern, along with a gray polo shirt with a metallic silver piping.

  “Cheers,” I said. “But not as good as our little cutie here.”

  Lou and her fave outfit—space-print jeans and matching jumper. She was a walking galaxy.

  She giggled. “I’m the best.”

  “You are, darling,” Dean said, sitting next to her.

  “No kisses!” she yelled.

  He backed off. “Sorry, forgot.”

  “My hair’s rocking.”

  Dean looked to me. She’d picked that up from yours truly.

  I shrugged. “Well, it is.”

  We’d got those curls to sit in pretty ringlets, actually tamed for once. Must’ve been magic because all we’d used was water and a hairbrush like always.

  I loved her crazy barnet.

  Lou giggled again and got back to her book.

  Dean got up, and we went to the window together. Evander and Orla were due any minute now.

  The real test for Orla would be the wards around our house. They’d know if she was a threat, ping her back from the door into the street.

  Might be quite funny.

  “You heard from Mila?” I asked.

  “She’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

  “Cool.”

  He took both of my hands in his. “Relax. We’ve got this.”

  “We always have, right?”

  “Jake and Dean, still going strong.” He lifted my left hand and kissed the back of it. “Me and my baby.”

  “You big softie.”

  He lowered his voice. “Never soft around you.”

  I chuckled. “Must be an uncomfortable existence you have.”

  “It is.” His smile faded. “How’re you holding up after this morning?”

  “I’m good. Cherry’s a mess. I called her, she said she’s with the mysterious Victor.”

  “We really need to meet this guy,” he said. “At least she’s not alone.”

  “Kind of wish she was crashing here.”

  “I know.”

  Victor was a client of Cherry’s she’d fallen for. Big time. She never stopped talking about him and how sad it made her that he still paid her for sex but treated her like they were lovers.

  Maybe things had changed if she was at the Starleaf Hotel with him, in the penthouse. For proof, she’d taken a picture of herself in the swanky room. Not a fun selfie at all. She looked exhausted in the photo like she could sleep for a hundred years.

  I’d just needed proof she was okay, and I’d called the hotel to clarify she was there too. All good.

  She was my friend. I had to worry. I was still worried, now. What if Melony was the first kill of a new serial killer in Amsterdam? The whole red-light district had been shut down for the night, and council army troops were patrolling with the police. We’d been told to stay away from our offices until further notice.

  Had magic helped that rose transform like that? Witch? Warlock? Alchemist? Fae? Those were the supes who could use magic on a big scale—necromancer magic was different.

  What the hell did it all mean?

  “Your pulse is racing, baby.” Dean traced my wrist with his thumb.

  “Thinking about the autopsy, the rose.”

  He kissed my hand again. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t there.”

  “Don’t say that. You were on a more important mission.”

  “I just like to be there.”

  “You don’t have to be.”

  “Can’t help it.”

  “I know, my knight in shining armor.”

  “And you tell me off for getting cheesy?”

  “I’m a mild cheese. Like Edam. You’re full-on Stilton.”

  He cocked a brow. “Right. I’m stinky cheese? Nice.”

  “Oh, proper stinky.”

  He looked to Lou. “Daddy thinks Papa stinks.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “What?”

  I snorted. “See?”

  “I don’t stink.”

  “Just joking, Papa.”

  “She hangs around you too much,” he said to me.

  I kissed his hand now. “Ah, sorry. We’re picking on you. Actually, it makes a change as you normally both gang up on me, which is all sorts of rude.”

  “Touché. I guess I got off lightly.”

  “I fully embrace your Stilton ways.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Keep it coming. I’m the cracker to your cheese.”

  “You’re crazy. Oh.”

  That could only mean one poxy thing.

  They were here.

  As soon as the doorbell went, Lou sprang up and leaped into Dean’s arms, not saying a word.

  The nerves had suddenly kicked in.

  “Ready?” I asked her.

  A small nod.

  “Here we go.”

  I went to answer the door, Dean following.

  Three. Two. One.

  “Hello there, Jake!”

  There were fae guards on both sides of the canal, sentient and creepy, watching their future fae queen and Evander come up the steps to our house.

  Evander was clad in gold again—jeans, jumper, proper ugly scarf. Orla was in a midnight blue ballgown, teemed with matching clutch.

  Oh, excuse me for not rolling out the red carpet.

  “Welcome,” I said, stepping aside.

  Evander swept past me. “And this must be my gorgeous granddaughter! Hello, Louise. I’m Grandpa Evander.” She buried her face into Dean. “Aw, she’s so shy.”


  “Hello, Jake,” Orla said. She smelled different today, that cloying perfume gone. She’d told Dean it would be.

  An effort to change? Didn’t stop the hair on the back of my neck standing up.

  The wards didn’t react. Let her come and shake my hand. Half of her was over the threshold, not sprawled on her arse on the canal path.

  She wasn’t an enemy.

  Maybe.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Thank you for letting me come tonight.”

  “No problem. Happy to have you.” What a fibber! “Come in.”

  We went to the living room, settling down on the sofas. I flicked some music on and told our guests to help themselves to the food.

  “What can I get you to drink? Sorry, there’s no alcohol. I did get non-boozy wine, though.”

  Evander rolled his eyes. “Then what is the point?”

  “Dad,” Dean warned.

  “Fine. I’ll take some.”

  “There’s lemonade,” I countered.

  Anyone would think I’d said cat piss.

  “Orla?”

  “I’ll have the wine, please. Thank you, Jake.”

  “No worries.”

  Retreating to the kitchen would be a constant pattern for me tonight.

  My phone buzzed—the personal one, not the work one we had for out of hours calls from clients. “Hallo?”

  “Hallo, Jake.” It was Lars. “You won’t believe this, but the council has just emailed me over a report.”

  “Wow. Didn’t think we’d see one for weeks, if ever.”

  “Same. Anyway, it makes for interesting reading.”

  “Oh?” I opened the bottle of non-alcoholic wine. “Spill.”

  “The magic on Melony’s body was fae.”

  I put the bottle down before I dropped it. “Fae?”

  “I know.”

  “A fae… Pod-born to go with it?”

  “That sounds like a horrible combination, but a possibility.”

  Bollocks. “So, what now? Are we still involved?”

  “They don’t want you or Dean actively involved unless they explicitly say so. They’re happy to keep me informed on the case details but to report any future murders straight to them. That stands for you and Dean too. If you’re contacted by anyone about a similar case or come across anything, you must report it to the council immediately.”

  “Kind of worrying, right?”

  “Definitely. Promise me you will.”

  “Absolutely. Don’t worry, mate. Not gonna be dicks about it.”

  “Cool. Thank you. Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it. Say hi to Dean for me.”

  “Will do. Say hi to Evi.”

  As soon as I hung up, the doorbell rang.

  I let Mila in.

  “Hello, Jake.”

  She was stunning in her lemon sari. Mila never wore a coat or jacket, even in winter. Bad for the aesthetics.

  “How are you?” she asked.

  “Not bad, thanks. You?”

  “I still haven’t recovered from the misfortune of meeting that man.” She rolled her eyes.

  I grinned. I wasn’t as close to Mila as Dean was, but it was nice to see us bond over something like the mutual ‘ugh’ that was Evander.

  “Tell me about it,” I replied.

  “Are they in the lounge?”

  “Yeah. Go through. Can I get you a drink?”

  “No.”

  “Okay.”

  I hurried to get the drinks, then went back to the living room.

  I’d fill Dean in on the Melony update later.

  Fae magic. Shit. How many alarm bells could one person have screaming in their mind?

  Answer: A friggin’ million.

  Mila handed a vial of black liquid to Evander, who made sure to hide it from Lou. He got up from sitting next to her and move around to the back of the sofa. She was too busy staring at Orla to notice any of it.

  “I hear you enjoy things about space,” the fae woman said.

  Lou slowly nodded.

  “Can you tell me about it? I’m afraid I don’t really know much about space at all. I’d love to know more.”

  Evander uncorked the vial. Black steam curled out of it, and his hands started to glow pink.

  “I know the surface temperature of every planet,” Lou said.

  “You do? What a clever girl. Can you tell me each one? Start with…oh. Help me out here. What’s the closest planet to the sun again?”

  “Mercury.”

  “That’s right. Can you start there and work your way through them?”

  Lou looked to me from Dean’s lap, then to Dean, then nodded at Orla. “Mercury can get to eight-hundred-and forty-degrees Fahrenheit, or four-hundred and fifty Celsius.”

  “Goodness. That is hot.”

  Lou smiled. “But it can be chilly too. Can be minus two-hundred and seventy-five Fahrenheit, which is minus one-hundred and seventy Celsius.”

  Man, my kid was one smart almost-five-year-old.

  “So cold!” Orla said and shivered.

  Lou giggled. “Yep. But it’s not the hottest planet. That’s Venus, even though that’s number two.”

  “Really? Do explain.”

  So she did, and I watched the black mist came toward her over Dean’s shoulder, snake around her head. A soft, orange glow gleamed through it as it made contact, then it disappeared.

  Evander’s fae magic was still radiating from his hands, his eyes closed with concentration. What was he seeing? Oh, God. Let her be okay. Please let her be okay.

  Five minutes later, it was done. Lou was still talking about the planets, spending a long-time telling Orla about her fave—Jupiter.

  “Dean? Jake?” Evander said. “May I see your kitchen? You haven’t given me the tour yet.”

  “Sure, Dad,” Dean answered.

  “I’ll stay here,” I cut in.

  No way was I leaving her alone with Orla.

  Dean nodded and left with his father.

  Mila was still in the room, silent, watching Orla with what could only be suspicion.

  Ten

  Dean

  “Well, Son, the answer is simple. Her blood.”

  I blinked at my father. “Her blood.”

  “Yes. The dilution has resulted in the lateness of her power manifesting, and it is a freezing power which seems to be unstable.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Don’t worry, we can fix that easily. She’ll need to drink a concoction of gealach leaf and dandelion. I’m sure your friend can whip some up for you. If she drinks that every day it will suppress her power.”

  Suppress her power? Medicating my child essentially. “I need to speak to Jake about this.”

  “Of course. But it’s the best course of action. If the wrong people see her use her gift, then things could be bad for her.”

  He was right, yet giving her a potion every day felt wrong. “Is there any other way?”

  “It will require some research.”

  “No problem there. What about the thing this fae woman had taken? Did you see if anything was missing?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’ll keep looking.”

  “Thanks.”

  Damn. What had this woman taken?

  He looked me up and down. “You really aren’t the man I was expecting to meet, do you know that?”

  “I…don’t know what to say.”

  “You’re a great man. I can see that.” Was that sadness in his dark eyes? “Better than me. A real father, a real man.”

  “Dad, let’s not do this.”

  “I have no right to say what I’m about to say, but I want to. You need to know, even if it means nothing to you.” He released a nervous breath, which was so surprising. “I’m proud of you.”

  Talk about being whacked with the confusion stick. “Thanks.”

  He rubbed the back of his head. His whole demeanor had shifted. This wasn’t Evander Gold stan
ding in my kitchen, but a different creature. It was bizarre. “And I’m happy you have his home,” he added, “that you found someone who loves you. I…never had that. Maybe with your mother, but I wasn’t right for her. That’s watering it down some. I was wrong for her because I was wrong. I am wrong.” He stepped forward, imploring me with his eyes as if he was on the verge of saying something else.

  “She’s wonderful, Dean,” Orla said as she joined us.

  “She is,” I replied, turning to face her. That was the unreal father moment over.

  “My darling girl!” Evander boomed. “Isn’t she just? I must return and see that adorable face.” He strode out of the kitchen.

  “Is everything okay?” Orla asked when he was gone.

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  She came closer. “You have a lovely home here.”

  “That’s very kind.”

  Her eyes glittered. “I can sense the family energy. There’s a coziness here.”

  “Jake would love to hear that.”

  “I’m sure.” Another step forward, her hand caressing her bare throat. “I would love a home like this, but I think the palace is going to be so cold in comparison. So lonely.”

  I stepped backward, looking away. “Right.”

  “Oh. No. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Like what?”

  She backed off now. “Like I was meaning, you know, that I wanted you.” She laughed. “Sorry. I’m just saying I’m jealous.”

  “Jealous? You’re about to move into a palace and rule Faerie. You’re going to be queen.”

  “But you have a family. I will have staff and guards and nothing more.”

  “You’ll find the right man one day. I’m sure you’re not short of suitors.”

  “Well, no. I suppose not. No one hasn’t fit yet.”

  “When you least expect it, it’ll happen.”

  “So, it’s said.” She stared at me through her long lashes.

  “Anyway.” I turned my back on her. “I need a drink.”

  Silence.

  A glance over my shoulder told me she was gone.

  Dad and Orla left an hour later, promising to be back for Louise’s birthday party next week. My daughter had relaxed by that time, happily chatting away to her grandfather and the future queen.

  It had all gone a lot more smoothly than either of us could’ve anticipated.

  Mila had left shortly after Dad and Orla, set to return tomorrow night to bring some of the mixture my dad had told me about. She called it Null.