Case: 0 (Annalise Storm Chronicles Book 1)

by May Freighter

  Mavel’s hands roamed her arms, mindful of her wound. His fingers tangled in her hair as he guided her head back to deepen their kiss.

  Before she could fully enjoy herself, he moved away, and she let out a protesting moan. Unsated, she reached for him again, but he shook his head.

  “Someone is coming,” he whispered.

  “Oh…” She faced the window, noting that her shirt remained unbuttoned.

  There was a knock on the door, and a nurse came into the room. “Hello, I have brought the patient’s release paperwork.”

  While Annalise buttoned up, Mavel greeted the woman. She glanced over her shoulder as she finished with her last button.

  “Miss Storm, I would like to inform you that your doctor wants to keep you here for a couple more days for observation. After you tore your stitches open, there is a chance of a scar being left behind if you do not stay for the cellular regeneration treatment.”

  “Perhaps you should stay,” Mavel said.

  “Just give me the paperwork and whatever gels I have to apply to the wound. I’ll take full responsibility.”

  The nurse sighed in defeat and handed over the digital tablet.

  Annalise keyed in her citizen ID and pressed her finger to the fingerprint scanner. “There, all done.”

  “I will arrange for your healing gel to be prepared. You can collect it at the pharmacy on the ground floor. Take care of yourself, Miss Storm.”

  Once the nurse left the room, Mavel stepped closer. The concern on his face drove another pin into her already aching heart.

  “I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt,” she lied.

  He bobbed his head in acknowledgement and proceeded to open the door. He wasn’t dumb enough to trust her lie, but as long as he didn’t fight her on this, she was content.

  On the ground floor, she collected her prescription and got in the car in an underground car park. Sitting in the passenger seat, she observed the concrete pillars around her until they were shooting through the streets of the Golden District.

  Unconscious of her action, she touched her tingling lips. The sensation of his hot mouth on hers lingered there. She smiled. No, this can’t be. Shaking her head, she jerked her hand away and entwined her fingers between her thighs, so she wouldn’t do it again. A possibility of a relationship between them was an illusion. They could never be together in this society. She could be kicked out of the Golden District to live in the Bronze and lose her job at the DPD. He would lose his servant contract and would be unable to get into another one. Somehow, she could not imagine Mavel as a worker.

  What if he felt something for me in return?

  “We’re here, Anna.” Mavel’s voice brought her out of her inner turmoil.

  She undid her seatbelt and got out of the car. In silence, they marched to the lift where she became aware of his every movement, his every breath, and the contours of his body. Annalise pouted. She needed to get her head out of the clouds.

  They entered the apartment, and she asked, “So, what’s for lunch?”

  “I was planning on making a salad with some of the vegetables I’m growing on the balcony unless you want something else?”

  Mavel’s eyes bore into her, and she almost melted from their intensity. Here, they were alone. And, although that was the norm, this was the first time she felt her heartbeat thudding in her ears.

  He touched the lock of her hair, and she flinched. Mavel chuckled. “Anna, don’t look so scared. I am not planning to devour you. What happened in the hospital was just a kiss—a friendly greeting.”

  Her brows shot up. “Is that how to greet your friends?”

  “Maybe not all of them.” He patted her on the head and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Annalise stood stock-still, uncertain whether he was joking or not. She had never seen him with anyone else, but the way he didn’t shake Des off in the office gnawed at her confidence. Pursing her lips, she went into her room and dumped her medication on her desk.

  Her stomach gave a loud rumble. Before returning to the living area, she took a bath and ran a comb through her wet hair. The food was already set on the kitchen island.

  On the balcony, Mavel clutched the metal railing. He was on the phone, his expression pensive. After the call, he grabbed his jacket off the sofa. “Will you be alright by yourself? I have to go visit my mother. She’s not feeling well.”

  “I’ll be fine. Go take care of her.”

  His eyes examined her face, and he hurried out of the apartment.

  For a long time, she sat there, staring at her food. Somehow, the hunger was replaced with worry for Mavel’s mother. Was she very sick? His expression was too hard to read to ease her mind.

  She forced a few bites of salad down her throat and decided to watch something on the holo-screen. The first channel that came on was a Divinity News broadcast. Whatever Devlin was doing was distressing the politicians as there were already rumours in the media about an ongoing investigation.

  She turned the holo-display off and retired to her bedroom where she proceeded to read her case file. Good thing she had backed up the information before her suspension.

  Close to 10 p.m., Mavel returned home. She flew out of her room to find him studying his boots.

  “Is everything alright with your mother?”

  He stripped out of his jacket and tossed it on the hanger. “She’s better.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No,” he said, brushing past her. In the kitchen, he planted his mug under the coffee maker and turned the machine on.

  She frowned. He’d never acted so distant. “Mavel, have I done something?”

  He slammed his hands on the counter. The violent action made her want to jump out of her skin, but his pained expression tore her apart. The silver in his eyes became molten as she stood there mesmerised.

  Her body warmed from his stare alone, and she couldn’t fight the enigmatic effect.

  In two long strides, he demolished the space between their bodies. The notion of their bodies together had immobilised her, unsure of how to react to the overwhelming feeling of belonging. How could something feel so perfect? Her hands moved to offer him comfort. Something was terribly wrong. Mavel’s body was shaking but before she could ask him what tormented him, his face moved as he exhaled against her skin and trailed feather-light kisses along the length of her slender neck.

  She moved her head, allowing him to continue the sweet torment of her skin. Mavel took this as an invitation and nibbled on her earlobe. His warm breath shifted her fine hairs, tickling her in return. She struggled to contain her giggle, but it came out anyway, and he withdrew.

  His gaze roamed her flushed face. “Why don’t you push me away, Anna?”

  “I-I don’t know…”

  He touched her cheek, and their gazes locked. “I am modded. It is best if you push me away or break the contract with me before things get out of hand.”

  She blinked several times as his words gained meaning. Grief took over her soul, and she voiced the question she had hoped never to ask him. “Are you saying you want me to erase the contract with you?”

  “I am saying that it may be for the best. You could lose your pureblood status.”

  Her hands flew to her hips, and she winced when her shoulder muscles tugged on the wound. What was he trying to do here? Did he so desperately want to be separated from me? Why do this all of a sudden?

  “Did your mother say something to you? Is that why you’re doing this?”

  Mavel shook his head. “Anna—”

  “Don’t call my name like that. It makes me think you’re going to leave. I am keeping this contract intact whether you like it or not!”

  Breathing hard, she stormed back into her bedroom. Her stinging eyes were blurred with tears. She sniffled as she slid to the ground, her quivering legs no longer able to hold her full weight. Heartache caused by the thought of him leaving drove another dagger into her heart.

  “Mavel,
you idiot…”

  12

  Plus One

  The remaining two days of her suspension had crawled by at a snail’s pace. Mavel spent most of his time out of the apartment, visiting his ill mother. The only time he was present in the room with her was to help her apply healing gel to her wound. When he was done, he always had an excuse to get away from her. Without her access to the updated case file, she sat on the couch with her legs tucked underneath her and silently glowered at his bedroom door.

  That morning, he made her breakfast and left to get changed. It had been twenty minutes, and he hadn’t come out. Yes, he was avoiding her like a biological hazard.

  The doorbell chimed, and Annalise sluggishly sauntered over to the door. She glanced at the screen to find her mother, Regina Storm, with her dark brown hair tied in a braided bun on top of her head and her hazel eyes eyeing the camera.

  “Open up, Annalise,” she said.

  Sighing, Annalise pressed the release button on the lock.

  Regina glided into her apartment in her red suit. A politician’s wife had to wear the best to reflect her husband’s status, or that was what her family drilled into her since she was a child.

  Her mother turned on her high heels which made her slightly taller than Annalise. She outstretched her arms and engulfed her daughter in a restricting hug, in turn, tugging at her healing stitches.

  A sharp pain shot through her shoulder. “Mother, stitches…”

  “I’m so sorry, darling!” Regina released her at once. “So, it’s true. You got shot. Do you wish to continue pursuing such a dangerous career? If you keep getting scars on your body, no man will want you.” Her mother searched her face for a weakness Annalise wasn’t about to show.

  “Take a seat in the living room, Mother. I’ll make you something to drink, but I have to leave in fifteen.”

  Regina’s eyes watered. “You know we worry about you. What if you had died? Do you know how upset we would have been?”

  Against her will, she felt a pang of guilt. When her mother cried, it could last for hours, and Annalise didn’t have time to stay here and comfort her. She pulled her mother into an awkward hug. “I’m fine. I didn’t die and probably won’t for a while.”

  Regina scoffed. “Probably won’t… What kind of reassurance is that?”

  “Alright. I will stay alive no matter what. Does that please you?” Annalise asked, releasing her. “Coffee?”

  Her mother bobbed her head and went to sit on the couch. “Where is your beast?”

  Annalise inwardly groaned while she prepared her mother’s drink. Regina was spending too much time with her father’s friends. Their distrust for the modded seemed to be rubbing off on her and everything that moved around them. “Mavel is in his room, getting changed. Why?”

  Regina’s attention flickered to his door for a second. “No reason. It’s unusual for him to not be by your side. Perhaps it is for the best—”

  Annalise’s eyes narrowed. “What are you implying?”

  Her mother didn’t get a chance to answer as Mavel walked into the living area. He lowered his head in respect. “How are you, Mrs Storm?”

  Regina’s lips stretched into a smile that did not reach her eyes. “I’m doing fine. Just came to make sure my daughter’s well.”

  He pointed at the door. “I will wait for you downstairs, mistress.”

  Mavel left, and Annalise stood there staring at the space where he was only a moment ago. Does he want me to break the contract this badly? Is that why he’s acting this way?

  “I see you are busy with work, darling, so I will come back another time,” Regina said, rising from her seat. “Ah, before I forget, your father wanted me to remind you about the party on Wednesday.”

  I get shot, and he doesn’t bother to call me to ask how I am, but he sends my mother in to remind me to attend a pointless political party. Typical…

  Annalise checked her wrist comms and let out a faux gasp. “I got to run, Mother. Your coffee is on the counter. Close the door behind you when you leave.” She waved her goodbye and ran out of the apartment after grabbing her jacket, not stopping to hear Regina’s response.

  As the floor numbers decreased on the lift’s panel, her mind was occupied with the way Mavel behaved. Had her father or mother said something to make him want to break the contract or did he simply wish to quit being her servant?

  She scratched her head, making her hair stand with static. She flattened it with her palms as the doors slid open.

  Instead of waiting for her as he had promised, Mavel was already behind the wheel.

  Annalise climbed inside the car. “We need to talk.”

  He shifted in his seat and waited with a guarded expression she couldn’t understand.

  “Why are you acting this way? You’re distant as if you no longer want to be my—” She paused. The term ‘servant’ stuck in her throat. “A part of my life.”

  She couldn’t tell what was going on behind that perfect blank mask of his. He bent towards her, and she automatically scooted, pressing her back against the car door. He didn’t stop his advance until his handsome face was only two inches away.

  Annalise unconsciously nibbled on her lower lip which was eagerly anticipating contact.

  “This is precisely why I should leave, Anna. You don’t run from me, and you don’t push me away. If I was anyone else, I would have taken advantage of you,” he snapped, retreating.

  She sucked in a deep breath, but it felt like there was no air left in the car. His words clicked in her mind and her hands balled into fists. Anger extinguished any excitement her body craved. She grasped the collar of his shirt. “Are you saying I’m easy? Is that what you see me as?”

  He caught her wrist and wrapped his free arm around her waist. With one strong jerk, she was hoisted onto his lap. Her wounded shoulder voiced a complaint in a form of a dull ache when his lips found hers. He plunged his tongue inside her mouth, and she let him consume her in a hungry kiss.

  Everywhere he touched, her body grew hot. His deft fingers undid the first few buttons of her shirt, and he trailed kisses along her neck to her chest.

  “Mavel…” she whispered his name like a velvet caress. The fire in her was carried all the way to her soul. She didn’t want their contact to come to an end.

  He ran his tongue along the edges of her bra. His hands roamed her waist, and she closed her eyes, revelling in the pleasurable sensations.

  When his hand brushed the hooks of her bra, he tensed and withdrew as far as the seat would permit him. With hooded silver eyes, he studied her—eyes she wanted to watch only her and no one else. His ragged breaths told her she wasn’t the only one affected by this.

  “This is precisely what I was talking about, Anna. I want you, right here and now. I can barely keep myself contained, but I won’t touch you again. Not until you are certain you want this. Not until you ask me.”

  He helped her slide back into her seat and started the car. She was still itching for more contact, but he was right. She never went beyond kissing with men. Going further would change everything. She had to accept him and the possible implications that came with the act. After all, he was modded, and she was a pureblood. Could she sacrifice her lifestyle and jeopardise every relationship she built over the years for a night with the man she loved?

  They got to the DPD, and she marched to the Chief’s office, stopping on the way to greet the other two detectives and their partners. Annalise knocked on the door and entered without waiting for him to call her.

  Mavel chose to wait with the others.

  Chief sighed heavily when he saw her. “It’s Sunday. Why are you even here?”

  She smirked. “You said I’m off the case for three days. It’s been just that. Now give me back my badge and case, sir.”

  “Are you still set on catching Dawson?” he asked with a stony expression.

  “I am.”

  Shaking his head, he opened his desk drawer and retrieved her
gun and badge. His cold stare reverted to her. “One mistake and you’re off the case, Storm. Understood?”

  She gathered her items and beamed at him. Although he came across as an ass, he seemed to care a great deal about his detectives, and she was beginning to like him.

  Not waiting any longer, she strode over to Jamen’s desk. “I’m back on the Fern case in Bronze. Could you transfer all the data to my terminal?”

  “AID will reactivate your account in the next five minutes,” he replied.

  Things were already looking up. With a skip in her step, she aimed for her desk and stopped midstride. Wary, she glanced over her shoulder at her superior. “By the way, how do you know Devlin?”

  “From the Falcon Group?” he asked, not lifting his gaze from his terminal. “We worked on a case together.”

  “You didn’t seem too happy with him looking into our case,” she pointed out, recalling how he acted at the hospital.

  Jamen crossed his arms and met her curious stare. “I can like or dislike whomever I want, Storm. For example, I hate nosy newbies. You got your case back, get on with it. Just don’t forget to report your location to me at all times. I’ve been assigned to a missing and possibly possessed servant in Silver, so I can’t babysit you any longer.”

  He dismissed her by returning to his work, and Annalise retreated to her empty desk. She logged into her terminal and scanned Robert’s case file for any updates. Dawson was a person of interest now. He seemed to be the last person in contact with Leila and could also be responsible for Robert’s death, but that was mere speculation on her part. She had to talk to the widow again.

  Annalise checked her comms. It was 9:27 a.m. She typed in Mrs Fern’s number into the comms and put in her earpiece.

  “Who is it?” Mrs Fern asked.

  “It’s Detective Storm. I’m in charge of your husband’s case. Would you have time to answer some questions today?”

  There was a long pause. “Yes, I will be home in an hour.”

  “Great.”