Death's Dark Horse

by Ruby Loren

  “Come on, you’re saying you never even suspected?” He was smirking now.

  January regretted sharing the shifter secret. “No, I never suspected. I just thought that it was another ploy to make himself seem more authentically Italian.”

  Gregory looked amused by that deduction.

  She sighed again. “I don’t even know what he turned into.”

  The vampire narrowed his eyes at her. “I think you do,” was all he said, but then moved on so quickly, she wondered if she’d imagined that cryptic sentence. “Anyway… I realised it was him, so I ended it.”

  January raised an eyebrow. “Without questioning him first?”

  Gregory looked a little shamefaced. “I questioned him and then he started to change, so I stopped him from doing it. I’m not really au fait with shifter torture. I’m far more skilled at extracting information from my own kind.”

  Thanks for the over-share, January privately thought.

  “So, you’re pretty damn certain he was doing the killing… somehow. But you don’t know if he was doing it for kicks, or for someone else.”

  Gregory’s face grew troubled. “I doubt they were random attacks. Apart from that, I know nothing. My enemy is still a mystery. However, there is one person who could help.”

  January knew exactly whom he was referring to. “If you can find her, you have my full permission to extract all the information you like.”

  She was through with worrying about her sister. Ever since Gregory had seen her hanging out with the vampire that had later died, she’d realised that it was fairly obvious Jo had disappeared by her own choice. She just didn’t want to be found by any family members.

  “Back to Matt, do you actually know what he turned into?” She wanted Gregory to say it.

  “I’m no Sherlock, but judging by the hoof prints leading away from the scene of the crime, he was a horse. The horses around here all seem to be keeping quite a lot of secrets.”

  January didn’t respond to that, but she was worried. It confirmed a theory she’d hoped had been incorrect.

  It also made her suspect that her sister was at the heart of all this.

  The oven beeped and let her know that the pizza was done. She didn’t really feel like eating it anymore. It wouldn’t hurt to try though, she thought and walked over to get it out. The smell of cheese, tomato, chicken, and pepper, wafted out of the open door.

  She revised her opinion on not being up to eating.

  “What do we do now? You said I could maybe help you with something?”

  Gregory nodded and stood up. January could see he looked just as worried as she felt.

  “Well, the problem is…”

  There was a loud knock on the door. January instantly tensed. Both of them were thinking of Lewis.

  “Do you think he really was dead?” She whispered.

  Gregory nodded. “But, I didn’t move him.”

  It took her a moment to process that.

  Lewis’ body was still on the ground outside her house. Whoever was knocking on the door would have walked right past him.

  “Oh God, I hope it’s not my parents,” she muttered, walking forwards.

  A murder in the family would be the last straw. They’d probably disown her.

  A smile flickered across her face.

  “I’ll answer it,” Gregory announced, smoothly passing her by and opening the door with his fangs out.

  “January?” The voice was hesitant, but January recognised the low voice.

  “Ryan? It’s okay Gregory. I don’t think he’s here to murder me.”

  Ryan slid past a still-scowling vampire into the house.

  “He’s one of the pack,” the vampire reminded her.

  She tilted her head from side to side. “He saved me from Luke last night while you were out murdering someone.”

  Gregory pushed past Ryan and turned around when he was on her doorstep. “I’ll just get rid of this body then,” he said.

  January got the point. “I hope you make a better job of hiding it than you did the last one,” she said, giving him equal attitude in return.

  Of course she knew he’d wanted Matt’s body found. He’d been sending a message to someone, but all was fair in love and war.

  Gregory shut the door a little too hard.

  January turned to find Ryan’s face full of questions.

  “Why is there a dead guy with his neck broken out there?” His eyes flicked to the shirt which Gregory had torn off and forgotten – the bloodstain horribly visible. “Are you okay?”

  January waved a hand and walked back over to the pizza. “I’m fine. That’s not my blood. The dead guy tried to stab me. According to Gregory, I probably wouldn’t have died, but I’m pretty sure it was supposed to be attempted murder.”

  “According to Gregory?” Ryan’s brow furrowed.

  “He got stabbed when he jumped in front of me. That was when he killed Lewis. That’s the guy with the knife - he was the drummer in my band,” she quickly explained.

  Ryan looked like he was struggling to keep up. “Your drummer was trying to kill you? And the bloodsucker saved you?”

  January winced at the colloquialism but nodded.

  “Do you want some pizza by the way? Dig right in.”

  Ryan obediently took a slice. “They never do anything for us. Does he really like you, or something?”

  January sneaked a look at his face, but it was blank - his eyes fixed on the pizza.

  “More likely he’ll just want some huge favour at a later date,” she said, wondering if Ryan knew the way vampires worked. She’d only found out through her employment.

  “I still haven’t actually figured out why Lewis wanted to kill me.” She frowned. “I guess I’ll have to do what I can to find out, but really - there’s nothing that springs to mind.”

  She’d not sensed anything ‘other’ about him during the times they’d been onstage together, or even tonight when he’d wound up on her doorstep. She sighed. The band was going to freakout when they realised their drummer had gone missing. Decent, non-psycho drummers, were rarer than hen’s teeth.

  Actually, Lewis kind of proved that point.

  She only hoped he hadn’t told anyone.

  Or left anything to say where he’d gone.

  Just popped out to brutally murder January Chevalier for no reason at all. Back in ten…

  She snorted at the imagined note. Ryan raised his eyebrows.

  “I need to give you your car back,” she suddenly realised and delved into the pocket of her jeans. “That’s probably why you came round.”

  He nodded, briefly. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  He accepted the keys and rubbed the back of his neck, his tattooed biceps bulging. January smiled at the jaguar tattoo, which seemed to clamber around.

  “Your car is still in the car park, I’m afraid. Luke thinks you’ll come back for it, so he has people watching all the time. I may as well give you the key back.” He passed it over.

  January sighed. Her bass was in that car, probably suffering from being warmed up in the day and then forming condensation in the night. It was not a good combination.

  “Was everything okay when you went back in last night?” She was itching to know.

  Trace hadn’t mentioned any of that (yet another reason not to trust her). It would be interesting to see if Ryan was any more forthcoming.

  “The whole place was trashed – broken tables and everything. Luke couldn’t really blame anyone, but he called everyone that was there together and told us to spread the word that you’re still an enemy of the pack. If we talk to you, we die.” He fidgeted, uncomfortably.

  January tried not to smile but couldn’t help it. “Sorry, I was just thinking that there probably isn’t anyone in the pack who could take you on.”

  Ryan smiled too, but his voice was bitter. “That’s why I’m the right hand man. If anyone misbehaves, then it’s my job to carry out orders. If I’m caught… I don’t know.
Luke could probably command my heart to stop. Or set the whole pack on me. Probably that.”

  He looked just as scared as Trace had.

  “I just hope that the bar pulls through. Being in the pack is bad, but for a lot of us, the bar brings in our only income - especially since there’s not exactly a lot to do around here. A big chunk of the money we earned came from those… special nights. That’s going to be hard to get back.”

  January frowned. “You can’t be saying that you actually think it’s a good idea? Putting on a show for humans? It was like a circus.”

  Ryan sighed. “I know, it’s wrong. It’s all wrong. It was better in London when we could all do what we wanted and not have to see each other. It was just the cats. Now it feels like this place isn’t really big enough for us.” He stopped short, not used to sharing the pack’s plans.

  January shoved another slice of pizza in her mouth to encourage him to talk more.

  “So… you’re seeing that vamp then? He’s the boss, isn’t he?”

  She almost spat her mouthful back out. “No, we’re not…” She paused, suddenly feeling like this mattered. “He just breaks into my house a lot,” she finished, lamely - trying not to think about Gregory naked in her bed.

  “Well, actually - it’s my house.” Gregory reappeared in the room and strode over to stand behind her.

  January wished he could have stayed outside for just a little longer.

  The two men’s eyes met.

  Ryan looked away first. “I need to be getting back. Luke’s keeping a tight leash on everyone right now.” He walked to the door. “Thanks for the pizza,” he said and left.

  January heard the Jeep start outside and sensed Gregory finally relax.

  “What was that?” She asked, stepping away from the vampire.

  He was still staring at the door that Ryan had walked through. “What?”

  “Saying this is your house? Acting like I belong to you?”

  Gregory frowned. “He’s one of them. I was doing you a favour by showing him you aren’t on your own.”

  January angrily shoved the last slice of pizza into her mouth. “Sure.”

  Her sharp ears heard his teeth grind together in frustration.

  “I saved your life tonight.”

  “Yeah, and I have no doubt I’ll end up paying for it later.”

  “I have other business to attend to,” he announced and walked swiftly out the door.

  January shook her head, strangely feeling happier now the house was empty. Having both the shifter and the vampire in the same room had made her head feel like it was going to explode.

  “This is why I don’t get involved,” she muttered and put the pizza plate in the sink. She’d sort everything out in the morning.

  Her last thoughts before escaping into sleep were about the wolves that had died in the woods and the message they were supposed to have sent.

  16

  In the morning, January found Lewis’ address and walked to his house on the other side of Hailfield. It didn’t escape her notice that the woods behind his house almost certainly connected with the trees adjacent to her property - if you walked far enough. Her mind flashed back to the person running through the trees when she’d opened the door and discovered the pigeon.

  “What did you have against me?” She said aloud, glancing around at the neighbouring houses and hoping everyone had gone to work. With any luck, Lewis would be classed as missing and remain that way forever.

  A body meant problems.

  She pushed open the garden gate and walked around to the back door, painfully aware that there were houses on either side. She’d just have to risk it. At least there was a plausible excuse for her presence - being in a band with him and all.

  Of course, if anyone saw the brick in her hand and heard the tinkle of broken glass cut through the quiet, mid-morning air, none of that would help.

  Her eyes flicked from house to house, before she pushed her hand through the shattered pane, twisting the key on the inside to unlock the door.

  The house was silent and the kitchen looked just like any other – clean white surfaces and pine cupboards.

  But there had to be something.

  People didn’t just wake up one day and decide they were going to pop round and stab you for no reason at all.

  She walked up the stairs, her eyes inspecting the photographs of parents and other relatives that lined the wall. She felt a twinge of regret before she reminded herself that Lewis had made his own decision.

  Her first impression was that everything appeared normal - but it was almost overkill. Did people really paint every single room of their house the exact same shade of magnolia?

  Her eyes were drawn to a door that was slightly ajar. She crossed the landing and pulled it open.

  “Whoa…” She froze in the doorway, unable to take in the sudden change of décor and personality.

  The walls in this room were black - only, you couldn’t see much of the walls anymore. They were completely covered with snapshots of Mike.

  January’s gaze slid over print-outs of every single Facebook picture Mike had ever posted. There were some other shots too, where it was clear Mike had no idea his photo was being taken.

  January’s eyes were drawn to the camera that sat on a table in the corner of the room. It wasn’t the only thing on the table. Rows of bottles containing dried herbs and pickled items (January didn’t want to inspect them too closely) were all in evidence. There was a shelf that held dust covered crystals and an entire wall devoted to books.

  She walked over and read the faded spine of Traellia’s Grimoire. The other books were all similarly dark looking. They had ancient and demonic sounding names and symbols that January didn’t have the first clue about reading.

  A shiver ran down her spine.

  She finally knew for sure that Lewis had been the one cursing her. Why did none of it work? She wondered, and then pushed the thought aside. She could contemplate the existence of magic some other time.

  A sudden movement made her jump. She felt the start of a change brought on by the natural instinct of defence.

  A black shadow with yellow eyes stared at her from on top of the bookshelf. She’d disturbed someone’s sleeping place.

  “Great, now I have to make sure someone reports Lewis missing,” she muttered.

  The black cat jumped off the top shelf, landing almost silently on the floorboards.

  “I hope you’re less of a head-case than your owner,” she told the cat.

  The animal sat down and yowled at her. It was probably hungry. She sucked her cheeks in, looking around at all of the pictures. When the police investigated, would it lead them straight to her? She hadn’t seen any sign of herself in the room. In fact, she was still slightly baffled. All she could surmise was that Lewis had somehow got the idea she was after Mike.

  “This is so nuts,” she said, shaking her head at the wall of photos. What would Mike think when he found out? Something like that would really mess with your head. She chewed her lip, knowing she was probably only going to land herself in more trouble.

  “It would be better for him if he never found out.” She was thinking of Mike’s happy go lucky, slightly naïve way of bouncing through life. She didn’t want this to change him. Her hands started unpinning the mass of photos from the wall, making a big pile on the carpet. She was no doubt leaving tons of DNA evidence behind, but unless she actually got arrested anytime soon, she’d be fine.

  The cat watched her intently. January wished it wouldn’t.

  “Look, I’ll tell Mike I wanted to ask Lewis a question and he didn’t answer his phone. He’ll try and contact him, realise he’s gone, and someone will be round here to take care of you in no time at all,” she told the little cat, who just stared harder.

  Its paw reached out and pushed a book onto the floor. January walked over and picked it up, glancing at the blank cover before flicking through.

  It was Lewis’ diary.r />
  She scanned a few recent pages, reading the hate directed towards her and the various spells he’d used. He’d even written about how Mike was his and always would be. January made a mental note to ask the guitarist if any of his past girlfriends had suddenly disappeared off the face of the planet. She hoped for their sakes that Mike had been single for a very long time.

  “Come on, I never even flirted with him,” she complained, after reading yet another page full of ‘Die January, Die’.

  “You’re better off dead,” she said and firmly shut the book, tossing it onto the mound of photos.

  The walls looked bare now. She was certain if anyone bothered to look closely enough, they’d realise that something had been stuck on them, but she really didn’t have time for a full forensic cover up. She had a lunchtime shift starting in an hour at the tearoom.

  After a quick search of the kitchen, she found a black plastic bin liner and shoved the creepy photos and the dreadful diary into the sack. She’d glanced into all the other rooms of the house and had seen more magnolia walls - but she couldn’t rule out missing something.

  January sighed and tied a knot in the bag. This was so messy.

  “See you later, cat,” she said, opening the back door.

  The little black cat shot outside. January followed it, again praying that the neighbours weren’t around. Was there anything more suspicious than someone sneaking around with a black plastic bin bag? She cast a rueful glance backwards at the obvious signs of a break-in. This is a disaster, she thought.

  She entered the trees and instantly discovered a recently walked path.

  She knew exactly where it would lead her.

  “Would you like to try the daily special?” January hid a smile when Lucy asked one of their regulars if they’d like to sample the coffee and walnut cake she’d made. It looked spectacular, but January had no doubt its looks were the best part of it. Perhaps she uses too much baking powder, she suddenly thought and decided she’d do her best to remember to ask the other girl about it later. Lucy could be prickly, but no one deserved to make bad cakes forever.