After a few moments, Alvin held up his arms, declaring, “That was off the hook.”
I glanced at him, amazed to see the plates empty. “I hope you won’t get sick.”
“Nah, I don’t get sick.” He shrugged.
I surveyed the room, looking at the heraldic emblems hung around the stone space. I pointed at the one that had been defaced. “What are these symbols? What happened to that one?”
He glanced at it, then back at me. “Now. Let’s talk about my debt.”
I waved a dismissive hand. “There’s no debt.”
“You bought me a meal,” he said. “There’s a debt.”
I turned back to the bar again. “Don’t worry about it.”
He fixed me with an intent stare. “I never owe favors, you get me?”
“What do you want?” I asked uneasily.
“The real question is, what do you want?” He opened his jacket. To my surprise, a myriad of items hung from his jacket folds, sewn to the cloth. It was a bizarre collection—bottles, bracelets, a comb, a tiny hand mirror, some porcelain animal sculptures.
“A bracelet?” he asked. “A talisman to keep away salesmen? Perhaps a like potion?”
“A like potion?”
“Yeah, mate. Much better than a love potion. Love potions are a disaster waiting to happen. Like potions are mellow, relaxed. Definitely recommended. Maybe you could use it on the guy you’re waiting for.”
I smiled. “No, thanks.”
“Maybe a tiny cat statue? It enables you to talk to cats.”
“It can make me understand cats?”
“Nah, that’s not what I said.” He shook his head. “It just lets you talk to cats.”
“Will they understand what I’m saying?” I asked, grinning.
He shrugged, as if this had never occurred to him. “They might.”
“Thanks, Alvin, but no. I’m good.”
“Please take something.” His bloodshot eyes widened. “Like I said, I always pay my debts.”
“Okay, fine! Give me…” I glanced at the open jacket, looking for the cheapest looking item. “That small bottle.”
“The invisibility potion?”
“Uh, yeah, sure. That sounds fantastic.”
“Excellent!” He smiled and gave it to me. “You made the right choice.”
“So, this will make me invisible?” I asked, looking at the small glass bottle in my hand. This kid was the most entertaining person I’d met since I got here, though I was a little concerned for his mental state. I was already diagnosing him with drug-induced psychosis.
“It…” He seemed to trail off for a moment, before blinking. “Like, after you drink it, people won’t see you. For a short while.”
“Okay.” I shoved the bottle into my purse. “There you go. Debt paid.”
The light flickered, and for a moment his eyes burned with a fiery orange. Not human, my mind whispered.
Then, the strange glow was gone, as quickly as it had arrived. He sat before me, the same high teenager I’d seen before.
Fuck fuck fuck. I’m losing it.
“Well, cheers for the food, Cassandra.” Blearily, he waved. “See you tomorrow night!”
He slid off the stool, while I was still digesting his last sentence. “Hey, what the—hey!” I turned to catch him before he left up the stairs, but he was gone. I glanced at Leroy. “How did he know my name?”
Leroy shrugged, giving me another healthy pour of claret.
Frowning, I took a sip of my claret. I still had most of the glass left, but I was starting to gather that my dubious source had stood me up.
“You came.” A deep voice raised the hair on the back of my neck, and a shiver of anticipation shot through me.
I swiveled my stool to face him—but I did it a little too enthusiastically, underestimating the force of my push. I ended up turning a full circle, ending back where I started, like a total idiot. Blushing, I turned slower the second time—but Roan was already sitting next to me. How had he moved so quickly?
He wore an amber T-shirt that stretched over his muscled body, and I had to restrain myself from reaching out to touch him.
His green eyes slid down my body, taking in every curve and claiming me with his gaze. For just a moment, he reached for my waist, as if entranced, before pulling his hand away.
He tightening his fist, knuckles whitening. He raised his eyes, lingering on my lips before meeting my gaze. My breath caught in my throat.
Clearly, my honey-trap technique had worked. Then again, if I’d intended to throw him off-guard, how come I was the one who couldn’t remember how to speak? I was hardly drilling him for information.
Suddenly, he seemed to regain his composure, and he smirked. “Do you want another go on your merry-go-round? Don’t let me stop you.”
I scowled, unable to come up with a comeback.
His gaze shifted to my wine, and he plucked it from the bar, inhaling with his eyes closed. He took a sip, letting it roll over his tongue and moaning slightly. He seemed to be enjoying himself so thoroughly, I almost felt like I was spying on a private moment.
“Sure, help yourself,” I said. “I didn’t realize we knew each other well enough to share wine, but far be it from me to stand between a large man and my drink.”
He put the glass down, fixing me with a hard stare. “Are you going to keep talking, woman, or do you want to learn about your killer?”
“You expect me to trust that you have some insider knowledge?”
“You know I do.”
“Prove it,” I said.
He cocked his head, smiling slyly. “You’ve been trying to figure out those markings on the body. The strange lines that look like writing. You don’t recognize the language, and yet it seems oddly familiar to you.”
Ice ran through my blood. “How do you know that? That information hasn’t been released to the public.”
“If you want to know, you’ll follow me.”
* * *
Outside, the sky had darkened to a deep purple, the color of a bruise. Roan strode quickly down the narrow alley. I had a great view of his powerful back and his rich velvet pants, the color of oak. But I had to jog to keep up with him, and jogging in heels was not my forte. We’d never practiced that in FBI training.
“Slow down!” I said. “I’m not freakishly big. I can’t walk as fast as you.”
“Then run. I have no time for frailty.”
“You have somewhere better to be?”
“I can think of a dozen places.” His voice was smooth and low. “Your sluggishness has already cost us valuable time.”
“Sluggish—hold up! Tell me how you know about the marks.” I grabbed his arm.
When my fingers touched his powerful arm, he whirled to face me. For just a moment, his eyes flickered from green to a deep gold, the color of the late afternoon sun. He smelled of oak and musk, and I had the strangest sensation of life pulsing through his body. But there was something dangerous about him, too. This man could inspire a violent and ecstatic frenzy, pure animalistic abandon—a feral god. How was I getting all this just from touching his arm?
Touching his bare skin exhilarated me, and I tightened my grip on his arm. His skin promised a release I craved…
He tore his arm from my grasp. “Stop distracting me.” Venom laced his voice. “I know your game, and I won’t warn you again.” Shadows slid through his eyes. “I’m going to show you, not tell you. That’s how it works.”
Hating myself for it, I took a step back. I tried to steady my voice. “Then walk slower.”
“Fine.” He turned, walking noticeably slower, and I walked by his side. Even without touching him, I could feel a strange sort of energy pulsing off of him. He felt… powerful.
At the end of a narrow road, we turned onto a large thoroughfare. Traffic clogged the intersection—red buses and black cabs, mostly. Somber stone buildings surrounded us, some with columns. A glance at a street sign told me the name of the road
was Cheapside. Presumably this had been a shoddy neighborhood hundreds of years ago.
We walked in silence through an intersection, and I tried not to think of the strange jolt I’d felt when I’d touched Roan. I must be losing my mind, right? People simply don’t feel things like violent ecstasy and animalistic abandon just from touching someone’s arm.
My fingers tightened into fists as we walked. I shouldn’t be going with him alone. But with Gemma dead, he was the only lead I had. And anyway, there were plenty of people around. I wasn’t going to follow him into an empty warehouse or anything idiotic.
Be courteous, and be prepared to kill everyone you meet. Or in this case, be prepared to run away from everyone you meet.
We crossed to a narrow road called Walbrook, nestled between stately classical buildings.
I paused and crossed my arms. “I think at this point maybe you could tell me where we’re going. And why you couldn’t just give me the information I needed back at Leroy’s.”
He whirled to face me, eyes narrowing. “You’re so determined to lie to yourself, woman, that only a real experience will shatter your bubble. You need to see it for yourself.”
My stomach flipped. I’d seen enough weird shit in the past few days. “Fair warning, if you are hoping to take me somewhere you can kill me…” I searched for a reasonable threat. None came to mind. “I won’t go.” You sure showed him, Cassandra. He’s probably wilting in fear.
“If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead. Surely you can sense that.”
It was a fair point. “You said the killer isn’t human,” I said. “Is he an animal?”
He arched an eyebrow as if I was a lunatic.
“A…” I felt ridiculous uttering it. “A monster?”
“And what do you mean by that? Aren’t all your serial killers monsters in one way or another?” He strode on, and I followed.
As we walked, a strange feeling began pulsing through my body from the ground up, a euphoria so powerful it dizzied me. My heart thrummed. Above, the stars blazed in the darkening sky, and the scent of honeysuckle floated on a humid wind. Without thinking, I reached for Roan, intertwining my fingers with his. I closed my eyes, listening to the faint rush of a river as we walked. As if from the inside of my skull, a melodic chanting knelled in my mind—and then, the sound of screams. Human screams, full of pain and terror. But instead of frightening me, the sound intoxicated me…
Roan ripped his hand from mine, and the sudden movement jolted me out of my reverie.
His entire body had gone tense. “You don’t need to touch me.”
Disoriented, I surveyed my surroundings. We were at the end of the road now, and the chants and screams faded from my mind. The scene before me returned to its dusky gray hue, the scent of honeysuckle gone.
“What the fuck was that?” I breathed. “I’m losing my mind.”
“You’re not losing your mind. The City of London is in your blood. The shadow realm is in your bones, and now that you’ve come home, the ancient city has ignited your magic. You’re beginning to admit what you already know. There’s another world connected to this one, a mirror realm of dreams and nightmares, and men who were once worshipped as gods.”
My legs were trembling, and the world felt unsteady beneath my feet. “What is it? What exactly are we talking about?” I was clearly losing my mind, but it had felt so real. And I wanted to feel that euphoria again. Plus, I had a feeling this man knew a lot more about the killer than I did.
“I’ll show you more,” he said. “But I need you to promise me first that you’ll do something for me in return.”
“What?”
“Take me into the police vault, where they keep the organs of the dead women.”
It took a moment for me to translate that. “You want me to take you to the morgue?”
“Morgue,” he repeated, as if learning a new word. “Yes. You can enter the morgue. You’ll need to let me in.”
“Forget it.” I couldn’t even count the number of ways I’d get in trouble if I did that. “Why would you want to go into the morgue? It’s a bit suspicious, frankly.” My stomach turned. Serial killers often wanted to relive their crimes by seeing the victims’ bodies.
His gaze was positively glacial—icy anger. “If you’re not going to help me, then we’re done here. You won’t see me again until I have another use for you, and that time, you may not have the option of walking away.”
He turned to leave, his footsteps echoing off the stones, and with it, my strongest lead was disappearing. And when he’d said I wouldn’t see him again, I was certain that he’d meant it. He wasn’t a man who’d be found unless he wanted to.
“Wait!” I called out. Okay, there was no way in hell I was taking him into the morgue. But he didn’t need to know that. “I’ll take you into the morgue.”
As he turned back to me, I had the faintest sense that perhaps he’d been bluffing. Perhaps I wasn’t the only manipulator here. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.”
“So what is it you wanted to tell me?”
“Show you.” He walked past me. Again, I followed close behind, just trying to keep up. “You’ll need to actually see it if I’m going to penetrate your thick shields of delusion.”
“And what is it?”
“A glimpse of the mirror realm.”
I swallowed hard. “The world of dreams and nightmares.”
He shot me a hard look. “I’m not speaking in metaphors, you realize. It is an actual place.”
“Right.” I didn’t realize anything. I actually had no idea what the fuck we were talking about, or what the mirror realm was. I was torn between the feeling that I was about to be given a taste of secret knowledge, and the certainty that I was humoring a crazy person.
We turned onto another large thoroughfare. Stately buildings lined the road, their arched doorframes marked by carvings of a bearded god. Poseidon, probably, or a river god. The pagan world seemed alive and well in this city.
“This is the oldest part of the city,” he said. “Where men once made sacrifices to the gods. Deep beneath our feet, human skulls and gold pieces lie in a buried river.”
I shuddered, thinking of the sound of the river, and the screams of men ringing in my ears. I hadn’t voiced any of that out loud. So if that had been a hallucination, how would Roan have known what I’d experienced? Was it just a coincidence?
As we walked past a small puddle, its reflection flickered, and for a moment, I could see a street lined with rowan trees and elegant buildings of white marble and gold, wrapped in ivy. I quickly looked away, dread clawing at my heart. The visions I was seeing were getting more frequent.
Was I turning into my father?
Horace, don’t! The screams echoed in my memory, and I shuddered.
Roan had stopped, staring at me. “What is it?”
“I just… thought I saw something.”
“You’re about to see a lot more. This is where I wanted to take you.” He pointed to the ground by the side of the building.
A window was inset into the wall, barred with curling iron spikes. Inside, a yellow electrical light illuminated an ordinary-looking rock.
“We came to see a rock.” What this had to do with the murdered women, I could only imagine.
“It’s the London Stone.” His voice was hushed, almost respectful. “The ancient rock that’s been at the center of London for thousands of years.”
I cleared my throat. It didn’t look that big, hardly worthy of reverence. “Are we going to get to the point?”
“You’ll need to get closer. Kneel before it.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. Was he about to blow my brains out while I knelt before a rock? I searched his body, looking for the outline of a gun, but I saw nothing. “If I’m going to kneel to look at a rock, you need to back away from me.”
“I have no problem with that,” he snarled, stepping away. “I don’t want to be any closer to you than I need to be.”
Slowly, I dropped to my knees, and the cold pavement bit into my skin. I felt like an idiot, kneeling on the ground and staring at the rock. “What am I looking for?”
“Look.”
And then, the world shimmered.
It wasn’t my eyes playing tricks on me. It was my entire body. Instead of a rock, I now gaped at a gleaming hall crowded with people—no, not people exactly. They were beautiful and graceful, their movements catlike and soft. But they didn’t seem entirely human: enormous men with horns or claws, powerful women with shimmering wings that reflected the candlelight, many shimmering with colored auras. They whispered and laughed over golden goblets.
When I looked up, I could see that vaults arched high above us like ribs, but between them, no ceiling enclosed us, and the blazing stars lit up the night sky. A warm breeze, scented with rowan and honeysuckle, filtered through the air, and somewhere nearby, a stream burbled. Wisteria climbed the walls, and soft grasses and wildflowers grew below my bare feet…
But I was also in the street, kneeling on the ground, basking in the pulsing energy of the London Stone. The two worlds overlapped.
Suddenly weak, I gripped the metalwork for support, blinking away the vision. Slowly, I rose on unsteady legs and stared at Roan.
“What… what was that?” I asked, my breath shuddering. “What’s happening to me?”
He took a step closer, lowering his voice so no one else could hear. “The writing you saw on the body—they are fae markings. And just now, I showed you a glimpse of the Trinovantum. The fae realm.”
I blinked. “The what now?”
“Trinovantum. The fae realm. As I said. The killer you’re looking for isn’t human. He’s fae, like the people you just saw.”
I wanted to say he had drugged me. That this was some form of smoke and mirrors, or maybe that I needed some antipsychotic meds real fast. And yet…
And yet it had felt true. It had felt like coming home to a place I’d always known.
My thoughts were running wild, feral beasts that needed to be caged. I did everything I could to lock them up in my mental vault, but my knees felt week. “I need some time to figure out what’s going on.”
A muscle worked in Roan’s jaw. “There is no time. The killer will strike again. If you want to stop him, you need to deliver on your promise.”
Agent of Enchantment (Dark Fae FBI Book 1) Page 9
