My phone buzzed with a message, making my heart leap. I snatched it up, hoping it might be Storm. It wasn’t. It was only Finch telling me that he had visited the Petrichor club and spent hours interviewing the customers, but no one remembered ever seeing Zezi. It was just more bad news.
I briefly thought about dialing Finch, needing someone to talk to, but I doubted he would want to talk to me about my efforts to free a vampire from jail. Not when he was so busy trying to track down his long lost love. And he did love her. I had no doubt about that. It made me feel kind of lonely, knowing that I had never been the subject of that much wanting and desire. Nobody loved me. Certainly not Storm.
Nobody in my life cared about my current quandary. I had no one. Storm and Remi and Monroe and Leo would have cared if their hands hadn’t been tied. I should have found some way of persuading them this case was looking worth looking into instead of walking out. They had been hunting DCK for years. They cared. There were the ones I wanted to talk to right now. Given the way I had walked out on them, I doubted any of them would want to speak to me ever again.
I stopped my restless prowling only when I caught a glimpse of myself in my mirror. I looked like an insane person. And maybe I was. Driven insane by this desire to catch the Devil Claw and to kill him. My navelstone had mercifully stopped vibrating. My navelstone that might not even be a navelstone.
I lifted up my T-shirt until I could see it. I had always hated looking at it, as if confronting it meant that I had to confront the idea of what I really was. The stone was a black shiny rock, like a large gemstone, stuck slap bang in the center of my navel. It was fused to my flesh. Grimacing, I used a finger to explore the edges of it. Yep, still fused to my flesh.
And yet, for a short while yesterday it had not been. I was pretty sure of that. Because the sword that had so briefly and magically appeared in my hand had had a black stone at the very end of it in. A black glittering stone that had looked exactly like my navelstone. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but I had known it afterwards when I had come home and examined the stone in the mirror.
But I’m sure there isn’t a goddamn sword buried inside me. That sword had been long enough to have gone right through me and come out the other side. So where the hell had it come from? Was it a sword or a navelstone? Had the navelstone been still there in my belly while the sword had been in my hand?
I gripped the edges of the stone with my fingernails and tugged it. A sharp and deep pain made me grimace. I persevered, and yanked at the thing, my face contorted with agony. Several minutes later I accepted the fact that it was not going to work; the thing was not going to come out. So why the hell had it come out of its own accord? If it had come out of its own accord. If I hadn’t imagined the damn thing.
I couldn’t have imagined it. Finch had seen the sword. As had Rodrigge and Marielle Ronin.
So what did the sword mean? Did it mean that I was the killer that I thought I was? Such a natural born killer that I came with my own goddamn sword?
I worked late into the night searching on the internet, digging up any piece of information I could find about Darya Palmer, and Constance, Joshua and Leonie Asbeck, hoping that some part of their lives that might lead me to where Constance was now. My search was futile. I went to bed feeling even more frustrated than I had been when I’d begun. Frustrated and fine, because naturally my mood wasn’t going to allow me to feel anything but okay.
I’d probably have had better luck searching the Agency databases. I debated calling Remi or Monroe in the morning and begging for their help, and whether they would bother to help me. I had to solve this case. I couldn’t give up on it. The whole reason I had joined the Agency in the first place was to find DCK. I had given up my job thinking that I had the lead that I finally needed. And oh how quickly I had hit this dead end. I might as well not have bothered.
Every time I started to drift towards sleep, it occurred to me that my chances of finding DCK might have been gone forever. I should not have walked out in my job. I was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Storm had thought I was stupid too. I couldn’t rid myself of the look on his face when I had walked out. Disbelief, and maybe a hint of relief, as if he was tired of me. As if he was glad that I wouldn’t be his problem any more. The thought might have made me cry if I had been capable of crying right now.
One thing had been certain. If Storm had cared about me at all, if he had one drop of same feelings I had for him, he would have stopped me from leaving. I was sure of it. Because he had all the power. He could have persuaded the chief to let us informally investigate Leonie Ashbeck’s murder. It wouldn’t have been easy for him, but it wouldn’t have been impossible. He knew how much catching DCK meant to me, but he hadn’t trusted me enough to help me.
I wanted to hate him but I couldn’t. Because he had been protecting his employees jobs. Why did the man have to be a damned hero all of the time? And why did I have to like him so unreasonably much when he gave me absolutely nothing in return?
Just as I was drifting towards sleep I realized the one good thing about this whole thing. Tomorrow was Thursday morning. I had an appointment with Roopa. But since I had already lost my job at the Agency, there was no need for me to have therapy any more. Theo might not be happy with it, but I doubted that he’d fire me. I sleepily sent Roopa a text message saying I wasn’t coming in to see her.
Sleep claimed me, and I dreamed of a black rose. It was at the center of the vast space and Iw as trying to get to it. The space was full of a great many things that kept getting in my way. But I could see the rose. It was always ahead of me, and from it radiated that taunting laughter. If I could just reach it, everything would be okay. I had to get it. I reached and failed. Every time something got in my way, the rose laughed at me. It laughed at how pathetic I was. It laughed at the futility of my attempts. And then, when I finally reached it, when my fingers reached out to pluck it up, it crumpled into ashes, leaving me bereft.
I woke up in the morning and I didn’t even bother to climb out of bed. What was the point? There was nothing for me to do. I was due to go into Grimshaw’s after my appointment with Roopa, but sod that. Theo wouldn’t miss me. He could survive without me. His life would go on, and he’d be perfectly fine running his magic shop the way he always had. In my absence. I wondered if Roopa had called him to tell him that I’d canceled my appointment. I wondered if Theo had texted me to insist that I must go see her. I kind of hoped that he would have. It would show that at least somebody cared.
I reached for my phone to check my messages, and it started ringing. I stared at the screen, uncertain what to do. It was the last person I felt like talking to. It was Storm.
Chapter 20
DIANA
Storm asked me to come into the office. I couldn’t believe it. I pretended to be cool throughout the whole phone call, brief as it was, but my heart had been racing.
It was late morning by the time I got to Agency Headquarters. I had texted Theo on the way apologising that I couldn’t do my usual Thursday shift at Grimshaw’s and that I would explain to him later. When I got in, I saw the team assembled inside Storm’s office, huddled around the coffee table, talking intensely about something. I stood outside the glass door watching them, feeling awkward about going in. Finally I knocked, and Storm waved me in.
“Hey,” I said, still feeling a bit uncomfortable.
Storm and the team looked at me, and I looked right back at them, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, not quite sure what to say now about that I was back at the scene where I had huffed and departed just yesterday.
Remi handed me a large paper cup full of a hot drink. I took a sip. It was a chai latte. It was lukewarm by now, but it tasted like the best chai latte I had ever drunk.
“We looked into the Ronin case,” she said, as if nothing had happened, “And we think you might be onto something.” She reached for the chocolate-hazelnut donut and handed it to me wrapped in a napkin.
&
nbsp; I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously,” I asked. “You saved me the chocolate one?” It was a team favorite.
Leo looked annoyed. “Remi’s fault. Count yourself lucky because I would have eaten it by now.” He stuffed the remnants of a custard cream one into his mouth. I knew that he didn’t much care for that flavor but Leo was always hungry near a full moon, which was due on Saturday. It must have taken a great effort of will for him not to eat my chocolate donut.
I took a seat in the empty chair beside Remi, following her cue and pretending that we hadn’t all had a bust up yesterday, and asked, “So what did you find?”
When Remi told me that one of DCK’s former victims had been Steffane Ronin’s ex-girlfriend, Officer Tamara Westmoor, I was thrilled. It wasn’t quite proof, but it was link! A strong one. Steffane Ronin had to have been telling the truth about knowing DCK.
I munched my donut and between bites I filled them in on everything that I had discovered so far from the Ronins and from Darya Palmer. They listened intently, interjecting frequently with questions. It felt good to talk about it with people who cared so much. Throughout it all I found it difficult to look Storm in the eye, as if we had fought about something unpleasant, as if I had something to feel guilty about. I suppose I did. I had gone against one of his direct orders to stay away from the Ronin case after all. I sensed that he was holding himself back from me too, and a new uncomfortableness filled the gap between us. I wondered if it was just me being hypersensitive to every nuance of his presence. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t know how to fix it either.
We discussed the list of suspects who could have killed Leonie if Steffane really had not done it. The list was pretty much the other Ronin vampires, and perhaps Constance Ashbeck herself. I had my money on Rodigge or Marielle. I explained to the team that I had my doubts about Audriett too. She had lied about Leonie’s personality. Why lie about that?
Storm pointed out that perhaps Leonie had behaved more cautiously in the presence of the vampire matriarch of the household. Perhaps she had been wary of Audriett and so pretended be something that she wasn’t. This seemed a plausible explanation.
Storm gave us some more background information on the case, telling us that one of the strongest pieces of evidence against Steffane Ronin in his court case had been Constance Ashbeck’s testimony that her niece had been terrified that Steffane was stalking her. Constance Ashbeck had said that Leonie had been looking forward to going to away university, and had secured a special placement and a scholarship to ensure that she could cope even with her illnesses. Leonie had been so excited. She had never thought she would get the chance to go to university, given that her XP had been so extreme. Constance had said that the university had suddenly withdrawn Leonie’s placement, leaving Leonie devastated. On further investigation Storm’s team had found out that in fact Steffane Ronin had called the university, pretending to be Leonie’s guardian, and had persuaded them to reject Leonie’s application. Steffane Ronin had wanted to keep Leonie at home where he would have access to her.
I was not pleased with this news. It did not look good for Steffane Ronin.
“I still think that we need to speak to Constance Ashbeck. I think that she knows more than she said. Why else as she disappeared off the face of the planet?”
“You think that Constance was lying about the relationship between Steffane and Leonie?” said Remi.
“I think that Leone Ashbeck was the life and soul of a party just like Steffane. I think the two of them sounded like they would get along really well. So why is everyone saying that Leonie hated him? It seems more likely she would have been flattered by his attention.”
“And you said that the mother Darya blamed Constance for her daughter Leonie’s death,” pointed out Leo. “She said there had been friction between Constance and Leonie. Perhaps Constance did have a reason to want to Leonie dead.”
Monroe had been tapping away at his laptop for the entire time that we had all been discussing the case. Now he spoke up. “I can’t find any records of Leonie Ashbeck ever going to school. I had thought maybe she might have stayed in touch with one of her school friends who might know something interesting.”
“It’s because Leonie never went to school. She was always home-schooled by her mother, and then by her aunt and tutors while she lived at the Ronin nest.” Storm explained this rather distractedly. He was frowning at his phone which had just buzzed, telling him that he had a new message.
I could read his face. Something important had happened. “What is it?” I asked him.
“DCK has struck again!” he said. “A few hours ago in Edinburgh. A woman called Grace Newman. He left her alive! They’ve taken her in to hospital.”
I couldn’t believe it. “But he never leaves them alive,” I said. “Are they sure it was him?”
Storm had already risen to his feet, as if he was intent on going down to Edinburgh this very minute. He was still checking his phone. “Dammit,” he said. “They’re saying we won’t be allowed to speak to her until tomorrow at the earliest.”
Monroe had been tapping away rapidly at his computer, and then he suddenly yelped in excitement and said, “No way!”
We looked at him, surprised by his unexpected outburst which was not in character. His eyes had gone wide. “Grace Newman is Constance Asbeck,” he said. He turned his screen around so that we could all see, and we all crowded to take a look. It was the record of a name change that had taken place six years ago. Constance Ashbeck had changed her name to Grace Newman.
“It can’t be,” Remi said. “This can’t be right.”
“It is,” said Storm grimly. “It’s her.” He held out his phone so that we could all see what was on the screen. It was a picture of a brunette woman, older now, but the same woman that I had seen in the photograph standing next to Joshua Ashbeck at his wedding. It was Constance Ashbeck
“This was in the email I’ve just been sent,” said Storm. “Grace Newman really is Constance Ashbeck.”
My mind had been doing rapid calculations and the conclusion it reached left me breathless. “The Devil Claw knew it was her,” I said in quiet awe. “He knew it was her! He was helping us find her. He left her alive on purpose!”
Leo shook his head. “He’s never behaved that way. He never leaves them alive.”
“Exactly!” I cried out. “He found her for us so that we could question her. He knows that she can give this information that’s going to get Steffane Ronin out of prison. Why else would have he have done it?”
“But why would he want Steffane Ronin out of prison?” said Monroe doubtfully. “How would he even know about any of this?”
“I don’t know how he knows,” I said. “But he has to know. Maybe he’s keeping an eye out on Steffane Ronin. Maybe he knew that we were looking into this case! It would make sense that if Ronin knows DCK he is, that DCK would keep an eye on Ronin!”
“Why would he want to help us get Ronin out of prison?” said Remi. “If he knew about the deal that you made with Steffane, then he would want to do his best to keep Ronin in prison so that Ronin can’t tell us about his identity. Right?”
“He wants him out because Steffane Ronin really does know who the Devil Claw Killer is,” I said breathlessly. “He wasn’t lying. He really does know!”
“I don’t get it,” said Monroe.
“Hes playing a game,” I said, my voice high with excitement. “He’s taking us on and he thinks he can win!”
“He wants to kill him,” said Storm quietly, his brain clearly having reached the same conclusion that I had reached. “He wants Ronin out of prison so that he can kill him.”
The mood in the room changed immediately. It was charged with stunned realization and growing exuberance. Because after all these years hunting for Devil Claw he was finally within this team’s reach.
Leo said what everyone was thinking. “All we have to do is get Steffane Ronin of prison. It will force Devil Claw to break his cover and come for hi
m.”
“And we’ll be waiting for him,” finished storm.
No, not you, I thought, though I did not say it out loud. It would be me who would be waiting for him. Me and my sword.
Chapter 21
DIANA
Storm and the rest of the team immediately departed for Edinburgh to look at the crime scene. Since we were not going to be allowed to interview Constance Ashbeck, or Grace Newman as she was now calling herself, until tomorrow at the earliest, I agreed that I would meet Storm at the hospital that Constance was in tomorrow.
I felt jittery, and at loose end. I decided to call in at Grimshaw’s to talk things over with Theo, so I jumped onto the tube to head there. Finch had called me twice already, but I wasn’t in the mood to call him back. My focus was on Devil Claw. I wasn’t going to be able to help him with Zezi. Not until this was all over. It was proving difficult for me to even think about anything else.
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