“Probably just tried the next house.” Jensen laughed. “Here, drink up. Tea will make it all better for you.” He passed Jennie her tea and then picked up his own. His eyes never left her cup as she raised the drink to her lips.
Just before the steaming tea made her mouth, something smashed in another room. Jensen’s eyes went wide at the sound of broken china, and he excused himself to dash out of the room.
Jennie took the liberty of the distraction to swap over the cups and place them back on the table.
“Are you okay?” she called, walking to the hallway where Jensen was now muttering under his breath as he picked up large chunks of a broken white and blue vase. Baxter stood behind him, chuckling. “Oh, no. Was that expensive?”
Jensen glared at her. “It was priceless.”
Jennie doubled down on her efforts to act like an innocent lamb. “Oh, that’s good, then. Wouldn’t want you to have lost something pricey.”
Jensen stared up at Jennie in disbelief. “No, ‘priceless.’ It means so valuable that no one can put a price on it.”
Jennie pretended to be shocked. “Oh. How much did it cost you?”
“£16,000.”
“Wow. That is expensive,” Jennie marveled, seeing an opportunity. “What was it?”
Jensen sighed and moved the larger chunks into a pile, leaving a track in the white dust scattered on the hardwood floor. “It was a genuine Chinese antique. This jar was from the Ming Dynasty in the fifteenth century. I had it exported from Chengdu by a contact of mine whose hobby is seeking rare and historical items.” He poked the remains with his toe. “I have no idea how that would have fallen off such a sturdy base.”
“Wow,” Jennie moved away from the mess to look at the other pieces decorating the hallway. “You like collecting old things, huh? You’re kind of like Indiana Jones.”
Jensen’s face softened at that. Apparently, the secret button to winning the man’s heart was to inflate his ego.
Isn’t that the truth for most men?
“I don’t know about that.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll get Cynthia to clean that up when she comes later today. How about since you are so fascinated by this jar, I give you a little tour of my collection?”
“That would be amazing,” Jennie agreed chirpily. “I bet you’ve got some super rare pieces, haven’t you?”
Jensen’s eye twinkled. “You have no idea."
He led Jennie back into the living room, where they each grabbed their tea for the tour. While sipping their drinks, Jensen led Jennie around his house, describing the impressive collection of artifacts and souvenirs he’d gathered from a life traveling the world.
The walls were decorated with oil paintings interspersed with taxidermied hunting trophies mounted on plaques. Jennie hid her distaste at seeing the glassy eyes of various rare creatures from around the globe.
Jensen showed Jennie shelves and pedestals filled with precious objects that shone with every color of jewel and precious metal known to man. Shields, and goblets, and Faberge eggs lined the displays, which, like the rest of the house, showed not a single speck of dust.
As Jensen guided Jennie around the house, he occasionally glanced at her expectantly, then placed a hand to his head as if to soothe a headache or discomfort he couldn’t quite explain.
After around fifteen minutes or so, they reached the end of the tour around the first and second floors, finally. Jensen wobbled on his feet as they made their way back downstairs into the hallway, clutching the banister for support.
Jennie smirked. “Wow, who would have known that when I rang your doorbell, I’d be taken around the world in eighty days.”
Jensen nodded but didn’t reply. All of his efforts were on concentrating on not falling.
Jennie moved closer, giving her hips a little extra wiggle as she did. She placed a hand on his cheek and kissed the other. “I can’t thank you enough for showing me your collection. Do you feel a little bit drunk, maybe?”
Jensen gave her a strange look as if trying to work out what had gone wrong with his plan and if maybe he had placed pills in both drinks.
Jennie wobbled a little in front of him, allowing her eyelids to droop until they were half-closed. She’d had enough experience being drunk to know what it was like to look as though you’d lost your inhibitions.
Jensen smirked goofily. “That’s not all, you know?”
“No?” Jennie stared deep into his eyes.
He shook his head. “I have a hidden collection. Follow me.”
Using the wall to remain upright, Jensen moved to a small cupboard under the stairs. There was a keypad there, which he typed a six-digit code into. A hydraulic lock -clicked, and he opened the door to reveal a set of fluorescent lights that flickered into action.
Jennie bit her lip and allowed herself to be ushered inside.
Yeah, follow the creepy old man into the locked cupboard under the stairs to discover his “hidden collection.” If this isn’t a commercial for stranger danger, I don’t know what is.
Lupe strained his neck to see through the window. The exposed parts of his skin were now covered in tiny scratches from the rose bush where he was crouching with Carolyn.
Another thorn prodded into his ankle. “Ow, fuck.”
“Quit complaining,” Carolyn whispered. “Pain doesn’t last forever.”
“Easy for you to say,” Lupe hissed. “I wish I could float inside a bush and not feel the thorns and spikes.”
“Just concentrate,” she told him.
They had watched as Jennie was led out of the room by the old man. The minute she was out of sight, Lupe began to grow concerned.
They trailed her around the house as best they could. Feng Mian was their eyes and ears, trailing into the house, and then back outside to provide progress reports.
“Still no sign of the saber?” Lupe asked, feeling useless.
Feng Mian shook his head.
Lupe picked a thorn out of his cloak. “Judging by the way the old man was drinking that tea, it won’t be long until he’s out cold.”
“It’s the least he deserves, the animal,” Carolyn added.
They resumed their position near the front of the house when the old man thumbed the keypad and opened the door of the under stairs cupboard. Lupe watched with distress as the old man gestured for Jennie to take the lead into the room, his eyes lingering on her ass as she walked ahead of him.
“I need to get inside.” Lupe leaned out of the bush and looked at the door. “I bet that fucker has it alarmed.”
“We don’t know the code,” Carolyn told him. “You’re going to have to stay outside, pal.”
Lupe shot her a look. “Excuse me?”
Carolyn shrugged. “Well, it’s not our fault you’re mortal, is it? We’ll go ahead and check that she’s okay. No point in Jennie risking any undue suffering because you’re too selfish to stay hidden and set off the alarm.”
“Since when was it considered bad to be mortal?” Lupe argued.
Carolyn tilted her head. “I’m not saying that. I’m saying rushing in and endangering Jennie just because you’re feeling less than useful would be selfish.”
Lupe crossed his arms, his dark eyes flashing. “If I could go spectral, I would be useful.”Carolyn lifted her hands. “What do you want me to say? If wishes were fishes, you’d be stinking.”
Lupe opened his mouth to argue, but before he could, there was a long, low beep. The lights in the house flickered momentarily, then came back on.
Carolyn and Lupe both turned toward the front door where Feng Mian stood in the open doorway. He gave them a placid look and said, “Scrambled the circuits. Come.”
Lupe glared at Carolyn. “Was that so hard?”
Once, long ago, Jennie had been invited to visit a Saudi prince’s palace. This was not long after the Second World War when Western Europe was recovering from years of depression and rationing, and Jennie was given a rare break.
She had been in pursu
it of some answers about her past. Some inclination of what heritage she bore that had gifted her the powers she possessed. Her hunt led her halfway across the world.
Prince Hasan el-Guler saw her in the souk and was so taken by her beauty he had ordered his men to bring her to him. Jennie had gone along with the request out of a mixture of curiosity and amusement, and the prince had delighted in showing her his collection of strange and exotic trinkets he had acquired throughout the years.
Jensen’s hidden collection was nothing like Prince el-Guler’s.
This room was wall-to-wall painted concrete rather than the gold-threaded marble she remembered from the prince’s palace. Metal pedestals held glass boxes containing diamonds and jewels that were impressive in size. She dismissed the scythes, axes, and daggers decorating the walls.
Jennie found the comparison laughable.
How the Western world butchers the magnificent.
Jennie strode up to the nearest pedestal, leaning closer to explore the diamond inside. The metal glinted when the LED spotlights flickered off for a moment before restoring light to the room.
“This thing is bigger than my fist,” Jennie remarked to distract Jensen from the power surge.
“Mm-hmm…” Jensen shook his head, struggling to focus his eyes. There was a thin film of sweat on his head. “The third-largest in the world… Well, found so far.”
Jennie forced an interested smile, hoping he would pass out soon. “Impressive. And this one?”
“That’s the ruby necklace Edward gives Vivian in Pretty Woman.”
Jennie took a step back and cocked her head.
Jensen smacked his lips together. “What? I’m a fan.”
Jennie turned to the pedestal in the center of the room. The one her eye had caught immediately, but she didn’t want to draw attention to her interest. Angus and Paige stood by the saber with a hungry look on their faces.
“What’s this?” she asked lightly.
The saber was long, its razor-sharp edge glinted in the light. The handle was polished gold with emeralds embedded in the pommel. It stood upright, connected to a long metal rod by a series of small wires.
“Ah, a woman of fine taste.” Jensen coughed, made to move toward Jennie, and stumbled over his own feet, stopping himself falling at the last minute. He looked at Jennie. “Do you feel funny?”
“Where’s it from?” she pressed, ignoring his question. “It’s beautiful.”
“That one’s an incredibly rare specimen.” Jensen now leaned on Jennie’s shoulder. “I spent years tracking down the Divinitatem Sancti Machaera.”
Jennie’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“The Saber of the Holy Divinity,” Jensen translated, his words starting to slur as his eyes closed. “Legend has it this blade was made in 36AD. Imbued with the light of the nine holy brothers of Bahá’í, this is said to be the unbreakable saber. The blade no barrier can stop.”
“Wow.” Jennie reached out for the sword and ran two fingers along the flat of the blade. It was cold to the touch, but the metal thrummed with an ancient power deep.
She grazed her fingers on the blade, and immediately small lines of red rivulets of blood appeared. She retracted her hand quickly and dabbed the blood on her clothes.
“So sharp!” she marveled, more to herself than to Jensen. “Of all the swords I’ve seen in my lifetime, of all the blades which were rumored to have been cursed, magical, or powerful, only a few have truly fit the description. But you! You’re the real deal, aren’t you?”
A small smile played on her lips.
Jennie had always had a passion for the undiscovered treasures of the world. With the spectral world a well-kept secret from the realms of the mortals, there were thousands of powerful objects across the world kept in small closets such as these by selfish mortals who wanted to show off rare artifacts rather than use them for their purpose.
If only mortals knew the true power of some of the items they possessed…
Jennie took the hilt and gave it a gentle tug. The metal wires resisted, and the lights at the base of the pedestal turned an angry red.
She tugged again, but the blade held fast.
“Jensen, how do I remove this from its stand?” Jennie asked, already knowing what the response would be. She looked down at where Jensen had fallen asleep on the floor in the fetal position and shook her head. “At least you won’t be awake to see what happens next.”
She cut off her connection to Paige and returned to her normal appearance. She drew her pistol and severed the cables with two quick, well-placed shots.
He is going to be pissed when he wakes up, Jennie thought as she grabbed the sword and ignored the mess of shattered glass and cracked stone in the room.
“Come on, you three. Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Jennie turned on her heels and made it to the top of the stairs before she paused.
Baxter looked back at her from the door. “What are you doing?”
Jennie chewed her lip. “Teaching this guy a lesson. Hold on.”
She rifled around in the kitchen drawers before returning triumphantly with a permanent marker in her hand. She ran down the stairs and scribbled on Jensen’s forehead, leaving a message which he would wake up to and hopefully learn something from.
Let’s see him explain that, Jennie chuckled and read the writing on his skin. “Rapist.” A simple message for the police who would arrive shortly.
Now Jennie raced up the stairs and through Jensen’s house, making it as far as the door before the blaring of police sirens could be heard from way down the street.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jennie muttered.
“The podium must have been alarmed,” Paige guessed. “That would explain the red light.”
“You don’t say.” Jennie’s eyes narrowed. There was only a limited window of time for them to make a clean escape. She connected to Baxter, passed through the door and almost crashed into Lupe in the garden.
“Jennie, what’s—”
“Not now.” Jennie held the sword high as she ran around the house and toward a fence that bordered the back garden. There was another lock with a keypad on the gate.
“Allow me,” Feng Mian offered, and the gates clicked open.
Jennie waited for Lupe to catch up, then shoved him through as she became material.
The police made it to the front of the house a few moments later.
They dashed through the gate, calling out to alert intruders to their presence, little knowing Jennie, Lupe, and their spectral friends had already hauled ass.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Piccadilly Circus, London
The sky was growing darker, and George was getting bored.
How long am I going to have to stand here and just watch the world? They’re out there, right now, doing something, and I’m standing and…what?
George looked out over the top of the building and wondered where Jennie was now.
It was an impossible mission, to break into the palace and get to the queen. Although he would be considered young amongst the specters, he was old enough to know it would take nothing short of a miracle to get the kind of result Jennie wanted.
“And, what then?” he muttered in the chill breeze as the sun burned a fierce orange on the horizon. “What’s her plan once she’s got her in her grips?”
Melissa’s voice came from behind. “Got who in whose grips?”
George turned suddenly and stroked the back of his neck. “Oh, you know… Just thinking about Jade and Rachael.”
“Your ex and her boss?” she asked.
“Yeah.” George chuckled. “I haunted her last week. Think she’s gunning for her position.”
Melissa scoffed. “You really need to leave the past in the past.”
George grinned. “Easier said than done. Did you want something?”
“Your shift is up. Kershaw’s collecting the specters down at the Recess.”
“Thank God,” George enth
used with a sly grin. “I thought I’d be up here for another night.”
The Recess was a small underground games club located beneath a thriving gin bar. The multi-room underground complex had once been the hit of the gaming scene around the time that pinball and arcade machines were at their peak.
Kids, teens, and lonely adults from all across London would come and pay their coins to jab the joysticks and mash the buttons, each searching for the glory of putting their initials in 16-bit letters on the screen.
A decade ago, however, the owner of the bar announced its closure. Gaming had moved online, and there was less and less interest in the nostalgic feel of a night of Frogger and Street Fighter.
Little did the owner know that just a couple of years after he passed away while still in possession of the deeds to the club, retro gaming would become a multi-million-pound industry for a thriving gaming market.
George could understand why this was the perfect place for a congregation of specters to debrief and, occasionally, socialize. The space was dark and abandoned. Arcade machines rusted away under dust-covered white sheets. Old blackboards with faded chalk letters littered the walls. Cobwebs covered the stools and spaces around the room.
“Central has reported there may have been a sighting,” Kershaw informed them, kicking back in a deteriorating leather armchair. “Some new blood around the Park. Think it might be something to do with her.”
“It’s not the cleverest idea for her to make it known where she is in the city,” Melissa commented. “Surely no one is that stupid, especially when every specter in the city is hunting for her. If I was her, I’d give up and go hide in the Cotswolds. Live a quiet life away from it all. What’s she in all of this for, anyway? She’s human. Why doesn’t she go and be human?”
“When people feel strongly enough about injustice, they put all else aside to fight it,” George mumbled, his eyes widening when he realized he’d spoken aloud.
“Injustice?” Darren asked as he patted down his blood-stained hospital gown to straighten it out. “What injustice? The way I see it, it’s those fucking Yanks who have caused the injustice, questioning the paranormal court like they are. The court never had these problems when spreading out to the colonies in the East. The Indians and the states around the Caribbean never argued. Straight into the court’s pockets, they were. Even in death, they understand the value of serving for the bigger cause. The Yanks should have jumped on board.”
Rogue, Renegade And Rebel (In Her Paranormal Majesty’s Secret Service Book 1) Page 50
