by Cece Rose
Thirteen
Strange & Deadly
“Why don’t you just tell me what Rhydian did to make you so murderous?” I ask Solas again as we walk down the quiet street. I can see the bus stop we’re heading too now right down the end of the road.
“How about, you let me kill him, and then I’ll tell you,” he quips back. He’s walking with his tail held high, and I can see the tension in his small, furry frame. Whatever it is, it seems to be worse to him than me turning him into a cat. He’d offered to make an oath to never try and kill or harm me if I helped him. Demons are known never offer immunity from their fury, so he must really hate the fae.
“It’s not going to happen. How many times do I have to say that?” I ask him.
“You could make that the last, and give me a different answer next time,” he replies deviously. I roll my eyes. Stupid demonic asshole. We walk the rest of the street in silence until we reach the stop. I lean against the bus shelter frame, watching as Solas sits down right by my feet. I close my eyes for a moment, so tired and desperate for a second of rest.
“Are you really going to say that little Damon isn’t your familiar?” the detective’s voice calls from across the street. My eyes shoot open, and I look around quickly for any humans that may be listening, not seeing anyone in the direct vicinity of the bus stop I’m standing at. It's never this peaceful inside of London, and I’m shocked at how deserted this street is during the day.
“Damon?” I echo the name in question, as I turn my focus back on Detective Huxley, just as he finishes crossing to my side of the road.
“Your cat?” He looks down at my feet, and I follow his eyes to where Solas is sitting at my feet.
“Oh, this cat,” I say, cringing internally. “Sorry, I got confused as I…err…I changed his name. Turns out that Damon didn’t suit him as much as I first thought,” I lie, hoping that he can’t tell how freaked out I am.
“What’s his name now?” he asks me curiously.
Fuck. I look down at Solas, silently pleading for help.
“Tell him my name is none of his business," the demon says unhelpfully.
"His name isn’t any of your business," I answer, not knowing what else to say and feeling a silent timer chasing me to speak. What I just said really sets in. Why the hell did I just say that?
"Why are you so damned touchy about your familiar?" The detective narrows his eyes on me.
“I guess it’s because he showed up so late,” I lie again, forcing myself to smile. “I’m not quite ready to share him with the world.”
“But you left him overnight at a work colleague’s house?” The scepticism is painted very clearly across his too-attractive features. I can’t help but think it’s odd how normal he looks. The messy, sandy blond hair makes me think of a surfer, not a witch so black he became a vampire too. Everyone with a brain knows that living forever is overrated.
“Are you stalking me now, detective?” I ask, trying to turn it back on him.
“Investigating, there’s a difference. Now answer the question.”
“I wasn’t aware there was one.”
“Fine, let me rephrase that, Miss Harlow. Why would you leave your cherished new familiar at a work colleague’s home overnight?”
“I needed someone that I could trust to watch him while I was busy with a friend. He’s pretty needy for a familiar and doesn’t like to be left alone. I didn’t realise using a friend as a pet sitter was a crime.” I glance up at the timetable on the bus stop, the damn bus was due three minutes ago. I hope I didn’t miss it and that it’s just running a few minutes late.
“So he’s more than a work colleague to you?” Something flickers in his eyes as he speaks, and I don’t like it.
“He’s a friend.” I stress the word, wanting it to be loud and clear. The last thing I needed was for Darren to become a suspect in Jay’s murder for some reason too. I sigh deeply. “I wish you’d just stop following me. I didn’t kill him. I’m not a killer. I mean, do I even look like a killer?” I ask, gesturing at myself. The thought of me being a cold blooded murderer is so incredulous, I don’t understand how he can’t see that.
He smiles. Just the corners of his lips. It’s so subtle it’s almost a contradiction of the action itself. “Killers look just like everyone else.”
“Not creepy and ominous at all,” the demon says with a snort. I whip around to look at him with my eyes wide for a second, before remembering that all the detective would have understood was a meow. Shit. I try to act normal, turning to face him again like I wasn’t just gaping at my cat for freaking meowing.
“So you’re saying you could be a murderer?” I blurt. The demon starts chuckling manically, and I wonder what on earth that sounds like to the detective. I take a deep breath. Just keep digging yourself a deeper grave, Kayla. The nice detective can bury you next to all the other village idiots.
“Not everyone that has killed someone is a bad person, Kayla,” Detective Huxley finally replies, and I release the breath I’d been holding. Why do I have to suffer from such bad foot-in-mouth disease?
“Doesn’t your job kind of say the opposite?” I ask curiously, wondering why he’d think some killing is acceptable.
“Not at all. Some beings must kill for survival, like a lion killing a deer for food. Some kill or be killed, so self-defence. Some even kill to protect, like an officer shooting down a dangerous criminal. They would all still be killers, but is it not justified killing? Is that not very different from cold-blooded murder?” He says it plain and simple, as if his black and white world is actually just two different shades of grey, with no more shading in between. Suddenly everything feels drenched in an intensity that wasn’t there a second ago.
“I don’t think it’s as simple as that,” I answer.
“But it can be, and it is. Did you kill in self-defence, Kayla? Did he try and hurt you again, like he did at the Christmas party?”
“What?” I ask. How the fuck did he know about what happened? I only told Lizzy!
“Did he try and force himself on you, Kayla? I’m sure anyone could understand a woman wanting to protect herself anyway she can. Maybe you didn’t even mean to kill him, you just went a little too far.” His face is suddenly a mask of fake sympathy, and I wish I could smack the expression off of his dumb face. But lashing out violently wasn’t going to get me out of this mess. I take a deep breath, letting myself think through my words before I say them for once.
“I don’t know how you know about the Christmas party, but it wasn’t a big deal. He tried it on, and I said no. End of story. I’ve never used magic on him, and I did not kill him. He was slimy, and disgusting, but I’m not a killer. Not for any reason. I get a guilty conscious just from eating bacon for goddess’ sake.” I keep my eyes level with his, making sure not to break contact as I do so. I want him to see the honesty there. Something seems to cross his face quickly, but it’s gone before I can read it.
“Thank you for your time,” he says stiffly, standing back from me. As he moves, I notice the bus turning down onto the road from the top of the street.
“Do you believe me?” I ask, wanting to know if he’s going to leave me alone or not. Being followed around and accused is exhausting. I throw my arm out to hail the bus as it draws closer.
“I need to find the truth. Regardless of if I think you murdered Mr Cavanaugh or not, I do believe that you are the path to the truth of this mess. My instincts are never wrong, and I won’t start doubting them now.” He looks between me and the bus as it slows at the stop. “Are you getting on that or not?”
“Asking so you know where to follow me?” I ask in an irritated voice.
“Maybe, but I would find you anywhere you go regardless of what you tell me.”
“Well isn’t that damn peachy,” I mutter, turning away from him.
The bus door opens, and I step on. Solas slips past my legs and scurries towards the seats as I smile brightly at the old bus driver and scan my bus
pass. I turn around to see if Kier is following me onto the bus or not. He stays standing on the pavement, not joining me on public transport. What was I thinking? He probably has a car somewhere tucked away around a corner.
“One last thing,” he says, drawing my attention just as I’m about to leave to grab a seat. “You might want to be little more careful. People may think a woman wandering around with a cat following obediently at her heels is a little strange.”
“Are you calling me strange, detective?” I ask him, as he turns away.
“No, I’m implying it, Miss Harlow. There’s a difference,” he calls back over his shoulder. The bus door automatically shuts when the driver realises he’s not getting on, cutting him off from my view as he walks away.
I head to the back of the empty bus, dropping into the back seat next to my furry companion. “I need to figure out what killed him, seeing as you didn’t. I can’t deal with him following me around forever,” I grumble quietly.
“Well, if you did kill him, how would you have done it?” Solas asks curiously.
“I wouldn’t have killed him. Didn’t you hear me, I’m not a killer.” I shrug. “I’m just not the type.”
“But if you were, what is a witches’ likely choice if they didn’t want to be caught?” he prods.
“I guess the best way to do it would be to have someone else do it, so they wouldn’t be able to pull my magical resonance from the crime scene. Like you’d have to use a demon or a—shit. Do you think someone used a vengeance?” I gape at the cat.
“Well, even if they did, there’s no way for you to find out that information,” he says matter-of-factly. Regardless of that fact, it’s not a bad lead. Proving someone else guilty would prove me innocent.
I glare at him suspiciously. “Why are you helping me?”
“The sooner you are left alone by that pesky detective, the sooner you can focus on freeing me, and the sooner I can come back and snap your neck. I’m just playing the long game.” He licks his black fur covered paw casually, as if he didn’t just threaten to kill me. Again.
“Charming my ass,” I snort, rolling my eyes as I turn to look out the window. Silvia had no idea, there was no risk of me falling for my demonic cat’s non-existent charm offense.
Fourteen
Fired & Furious
Today is going to be normal. I’d instructed the demon to stay at home and made it clear he’s not to touch anything. I had also somehow miraculously forced myself into work. I didn’t even have a chance to grab a coffee on my way in, so I’m feeling pretty damn irritable by the time I stride into the office.
“Kayla, you’re here!” Lizzy exclaims in surprise as I drop down into my chair.
“I couldn’t stay off work forever. Too much hassle to try and convince the lady in HR that I needed more emotional recovery time for a manager that none of us needed any time off over losing,” I explain quietly, looking around to make sure no one else was in earshot.
“I’m glad you’re back. Yesterday was boring as hell without you,” she comments.
“How did you stand coming in? After all the wine we drank, I don’t know how anyone could think coming into work when they don’t have to is a good idea.” I look at her dubiously. She must secretly be an alien or something.
“A quick spell is the greatest hangover cure. I offered to do yours too before leaving in the morning, remember?” she asks me with a knowing look. Considering when she left I had been half asleep and in a state of unintelligible mumbling, it’s no surprise I didn’t recall her offer.
“Miss Harlow, could you come with me for a moment please?” Clive’s voice asks from behind me. I turn around to the sound of the voice, surprised to see the operations manager is indeed actually talking to me directly. He mostly just dealt with the lower totem managers and bossing them about. The meeting about Jay was one of the only times he’d run a meeting with the rest of us.
“Sure, of course,” I answer, not really having much of a choice in the matter. I share a concerned glance with Lizzy as I stand up. Somehow, as I follow Clive into the dreaded glass room, I feel as if everyone in this place is watching me. Like someone shined down a spotlight from above as if to say, ‘Focus here everyone, the show is about to begin!’
Chewing my lip nervously, I mumble a thank you as he holds the door open for me. I walk into the room, taking a seat towards the head of the table. He gently closes the door, before dropping down into the chair across from mine.
“There isn’t an easy way to say this, Harlow,” he begins, and I instantly tense up. My hands grip the edge of the table tightly, my knuckles turning white. “We think it’s best for you not to be here right now. We’re aware you’re a person of interest in the investigation, and pending further information from that, we feel having you in the office may be distressful for other employees. I had hoped you’d choose to stay off for a little longer, until the investigation had some answers, but with you coming back in, my hand has been forced. You’re suspended until further notice.”
“You can’t be serious!” I exclaim, my heart racing from the rising anxiety in my chest.
“I’m sorry, Kayla, but—”
“You’re sorry? This can’t be happening. This isn’t happening. Why…I just…” I breathe deeply for a second, trying to find the right words. “This has to be a mistake, Clive. I haven’t done anything wrong, I wouldn’t even hurt a fly. How can this even be legal?”
“We’re just taking the steps necessary for the happiness and wellbeing of everyone in the workforce,” he says tightly.
Everyone except me apparently.
“You can’t do this,” I insist, I look out through the glass room window into the office. Everyone across the open planned office is looking over, not even looking away as I make eye contact. Damn it. How many people found out before I did?
“It’s already done. You need to grab any of your things that you need, hand in your ID badge for the door, and someone will escort you from the building.”
“You’re firing me. How can you be firing me? I’ve worked my ass off!” I snap, feeling angry. I didn’t love this job, but it paid well, and it was damn fun working with Lizzy.
“Take a breath and calm down, Kayla. I would hate to have to call security and make a scene. I’m sure you don’t want that either. We’re not firing you. If they find the real culprit, you’ll be welcome to return.”
I laugh. Unable to stop the giggle escaping my mouth. He could say what he wants, but if they never find the real killer, I’m out of a fucking job.
“Are you okay?” he asks, the fake concern makes me roll my eyes.
“I’m just peachy, Clive. It’ll only take a few minutes to grab my stuff. Is that everything?” I ask, and he inclines his head. The tension in his face and body is clear, he’s expecting trouble. Idiot.
I stand up and walk to the door, not sparing him another second of my attention as I half-numbly walk to my desk.
“Kay?”
I open the drawer and just shove everything that I can quickly into my bag.
“Kayla, talk to me?”
“I’ve been suspended. Well, fired, really,” I mutter, continuing to shove stuff into my bag.
“You can’t be serious?” she asks me disbelievingly.
“That’s what I said,” I mumble. I sigh, turning to face her now that I’ve shoved as much as physically possible into my tote bag. I hope Grandma’s grimoire doesn’t get too squashed at the bottom. “I’ve got to go now. I’ll call you when you finish work, okay?”
“Call me during my lunch break? I’ll slip away somewhere quiet,” she offers, and I nod. She reaches out and pulls me into a quick, tight hug.
“Might want to be careful,” I mumble as I pull away. “They might think that you’re my murder accomplice,” I explain, when seeing her confused expression.
“That’s why you’re being fired?” she asks incredulously.
“I guess everyone just wants to believe I’m guilty,�
�� I say, shrugging. “I’ll call you at lunch. Try and stay calm. I don’t want you getting in trouble too.”
“I’ll try, but this is such bullshit, Kay.”
“Preaching to the choir. I’m probably the least thrilled about me being sacked,” I respond, feeling desolate.
Lizzy cringes. “I’m sorry, this must be hard.”
I notice Clive watching me from across the office, but he looks away when I catch his eyes. “It’s fine. I’ll talk to you later on,” I insist. I give her another quick hug, as she’s looking a little pale and in shock about the whole thing, and then head for the lifts. I’m not going to wait to be escorted outside, he can suck it. I’m going walk out of here on my own, with my head held high.
I press the button to call the lift up, and count the numbers as it ascends to our floor. With the sound of the ding, I let out a sigh of relief as I notice Clive hasn’t spotted me leaving yet. I step into the lift, and quickly hit the button for the ground floor. The doors begin to close, and I relax against the side as they do. A hand snakes around the door, holding it open. I watch as newbie steps into the lift, smiling at me awkwardly. The doors close after him and we begin to descend.
“Leaving already?” he asks cheerfully.
“Gideon, isn’t it?” I check, hoping he isn’t offended.
“That’s me,” he answers curtly, looking a little bothered I’d needed to check. Oh well, I’ll probably never see him again anyway. All I want to do is give him a little, calm, passing advice.
“Word of advice, find somewhere else to work. Anywhere has to better than this place, the management here are a bunch of headless apes.” Okay, maybe I’m feeling a little pissed.
“Bad day?” he asks, his face softening a little.
“I just got fired,” I mutter, knocking my head against the mirrored wall of the lift.
