Blood & Magic Page 8

  “You think he stabbed himself?”

  “I know it sounds strange, but yes. We'll know more when we get him back.”

  Alex focused on the body, this case didn't get easier. Every new victim was a weight, a pressure on her mind, keeping her awake. The faces, their expressions of shock and horror taunted her, why could she not figure it out? This man was a new one for her collection.

  “Where is the knife?” Alex said, its absence dawning on her.

  “The one the victim used to stab himself with? The killer must have taken it. I won't be able to tell you more until I get back to the lab, but I've got a hunch the two sets of injuries were not caused by the same weapon. The shapes of the incisions are wrong,” Chris said.

  She gazed back down at the body as Chris picked up a clipboard resting on the step next to the victim. It could have been the light, but when he moved it away, Alex swore the stone underneath appeared lighter than the surroundings.

  “Chris, have you taken a sample of something from this step?”

  “No?” he followed Alex's gaze. “How did you spot that? My guys already checked around the body. It is barely visible, but yeah you are right, definitely a lighter patch. You think someone got rid of something?”

  Chris called across to one of his technicians, who came running back with a blue fluorescent light and a window cleaning bottle. Taking the Luminol, Chris squirted the paving, letting it settle for a moment before shining the UV light on the area.

  “Is that writing?” Chris said.

  “I think so. S-a-n… is that an 's'?” Alex said.

  “No, it's a 'g'. S-a-n-g-u-i-n-e-m. Sanguinem?”

  The letters glowed in blue against the pavement, the rough shapes drawn by fingertip.

  “Blood written in... blood,” Alex said.

  “This is majorly weird. I'll need to confirm the blood is a match, but we thinking this was written by the victim and removed by the killer?”

  “A killer organised enough to bring cleaning products with him? So we aren't looking at a crazy?”

  “I don't think the two go hand in hand. Not clever enough to bring something to properly get rid of the evidence.”

  They were interrupted by a voice from behind, calm and measured.

  “Good evening,” the man said.

  “And who the hell are you?” Alex said, turning to face him.

  “My name is Wade. What have you found there?” Wade said.

  He was smiling, but not in any way as to be friendly. How did he get past the PCs at the entrance?

  “Who has seen what you have just uncovered?” He paused. “Ah, just the two of you.” As he spoke, Alex felt something twinge in her head.

  “This is a crime scene for crying out loud,” Alex said. “You need to-”

  “Now if you two would run along for a second, I'll come and find you soon,” Wade said.

  Alex and Chris obeyed. To not do what he said would have been unthinkable. They walked beyond the gate and stood, waiting. What for, Alex did not know, but it was the right thing to do. Two minutes later, Wade joined them.

  Except Alex thought someone had joined them. A man was it? What man? And what had they been talking about? No, she couldn't remember that either. The victim stabbed himself then… Chris and her walked over here and… Why had they done that?

  “I’ve got a splitting headache,” Chris said.

  “Snap. Maybe we’ve had enough for today. Look, I’ll run by the lab in the morning.” Alex said.

  “Sounds like an idea, good night Alex.”

  They both left, Alex not acknowledging Drew who was stood to the side of the forensic tent, a dozen tissues stuck up his nostrils like tusks. What a wimp. It wouldn't do his reputation any good if he reported her, but he could she supposed.

  But it was no good thinking about that now. The man had said go home, go to sleep. No, there wasn't a man, was there? There wasn't a man and his name certainly wasn't Wade.

  - Chapter 13 -

  Skin deep

  The voice called out again.

  “Come to me Henry Fellows.”

  Henry entered a long hallway, every area of wall space covered with vivid paintings of modern art. It opened to a circular room, at least thirty metres wide, that was doused in a blanket of ivory stone. Tables broke the sheet of white, each crisp tablecloth garnished with a tall vase of red roses. At the centre, hung an elegant chandelier that cast mosaics of light around the room, causing the glasses arranged on the tables to constantly shimmer and sparkle.

  She stood, waiting for him, at the top of the steps.

  She was perfection.

  Dressed in a white sheet, her makeshift toga barely covered her perfect porcelain skin. Dark brown locks fell either side of her face, her chiselled cheekbones even visible from where Henry stood across the room. She glided down the steps towards him, but refused to meet his gaze as she came closer, playing hard to get, teasing him.

  “Henry Fellows. How lovely to meet you,” she said, the words soft as they escaped her perfect ruby red lips.

  He tried to speak, but found his tongue tied in knots.

  “I have been waiting for you for such a long time,” she said.

  Without warning, she dropped the toga, her perfect form revealed in all its glory. Henry stood inches from her, motionless, his heart racing.

  “Aren't you going to join me?” she said, as a slight smile spread across her flawless lips.

  His inhibitions gone, Henry had never felt so free, so happy, euphoric. He loved her. It was mad to say it, but he loved her. She was perfect, everything he ever wanted. He had thought he could never love anyone, his mind refusing to let him experience happiness, yet he knew that somehow, he loved her. And she loved him. Yes, she loved him, she must. Otherwise none of this made sense. His whole life had been leading to this, the perfect moment with the perfect woman. Endless pleasure was before him as the past faded to nothing.

  Henry almost ripped his clothes off, throwing away the dirt and worries of his past life that they seemed to represent. She drew closer, her lips drawn to a pout, inviting him. He traced his hand down her arm, the feel of her unblemished skin sending tingles through his body, her perfection making him shiver with excitement.

  As he looked into her eyes, Henry found that the magic, in the true nature of the word, was lost.

  In that moment, when their gaze locked, her irises cracked before him, shards of purple and green splintering across her once blue eyes, a ripple of energy cascading out across her body. Her skin, once perfect, became grey and mottled, the colour spreading out and transforming her snowy perfection, as a dropped stone disturbs a silent lake. Her face changed too, her nose receding and broadening, becoming snout like. Hairs sprung in wisps around her face, her hair thinning, the once flawless body now gaunt. Her ears began to point, not like before with the Grol, for they were almost transparent and grey like the rest of her. Skin began to develop between her fingers, which grew outward in spindles creating the effect of giant wings as her lips peeled back to reveal long sharp teeth and overly pronounced canines.

  “Oh bloody hell,” Henry said.

  More energy rippled outward from her, the transformation into some bat-like creature now complete. The once white table cloths turned to ash as the tables beneath them cracked and fell apart, the white walls turning black as the chandelier above his head decayed before him. Its glass pendants fell to the floor, fading to nothingness as they met the ground. Flowers that once accented each table, wilted and died, the whole image crashing down around him. She had been in his mind, changed his reality and now the image she conjured had broken. If Henry doubted any of the things he had been told tonight, this evidence left him unquestioning. The world wasn't a safe place, a fact he already appreciated, but just how unsafe? He had been so naive.

  “Henry, stay back!” a voice shouted from behind him.

  He turned to see Gabriel pointing a gun at the creature, but when Henry turned back, her transform
ation had already begun to reverse. She was turning back into the woman he had seen. The perfect woman. Except now he had seen the monster within, he could no longer appreciate her beauty.

  “She's a-” Gabriel said.

  “A vampire mutant thing? Bloody hell, when does this end,” Henry said.

  “A mutant?” the woman began to speak, but Gabriel interrupted her.

  “Well, yeah Henry, you're about right.”

  “Hey, skinny guy, less of the mutant thing if you please. And we're called Vampiris. You can put the gun away Gabriel,” said the woman.

  “You two know each other? How many levels of strange are you trying to transcend tonight Gabriel?” Henry said.

  Gabriel didn't speak as his eyes flashed towards Henry, a reminder that he wasn't wearing any clothes. Frantically getting dressed, the conversation continued on.

  “Gabe and I go way back,” Sabrina said. “In fact, Gabriel got quite a bit further than you when-”

  “Okay, that will do Sabrina. For God’s sake put some clothes on,” Gabriel said.

  “Making you... uncomfortable?” Sabrina said.

  “Get dressed,” he said firmly.

  Sabrina picked up the cloth from the floor, which turned out to be a dark red and yet another thing warped by her reality, and draped it across herself.

  “What happened?” Henry said.

  “Well, as you guessed, Sabrina here is an alternate. Vampiris, as she said. It's one of the hybrid ones we talked about. They have got this mental projection thing going on which can play with your head a bit,” Gabriel said.

  “It is a bit more than that,” she said turning to Henry. “I can tell you are new to this, so let me explain things. Vampiris are the superior kind of alternate, we combine mental abilities with being able to manipulate life itself,” Sabrina said.

  “And when she says manipulate life, she means drain poor suckers of theirs, so she doesn't age. Isn't that right, gorgeous?” Gabriel said.

  “My, you are in a bad mood. Henry, please do believe me when I say I would never feed on you, but we would definitely enjoy each others company,” Sabrina said.

  “You are not such a good liar without all your mind voodoo. How did you know I was an Ink?” Henry said.

  Henry realised how close he had come to death. If she'd handed him a knife and asked him to stab it into his heart, he would have done so with a smile on his face.

  “Could you be any greener? You stick out like a sore thumb, baby boy. The whole under-city is alive with talk of a new Ink being chased under here.”

  Sabrina smiled at him and then glided across to Gabriel, taking his chin in her finger tips and she stared deep into his eyes.

  Gabriel didn't flinch.

  “You have used your power recently and now you look like death for it. I take it from the state of you both, your attempts to keep the newbie safe aren't going so well? Poor boy, being stuck with you as a mentor, Gabriel. He won't last long,” Sabrina said.

  “Thanks. We will be on our way,” Gabriel said.

  “To the Inquisition hideout hidden in the sewers? Last I heard, it is not so hidden or in one piece anymore. Good job you didn't try and go there babe?” Sabrina said.

  “Okay, Henry and I are-”

  “You will be my guests until Henry calms down. You only found your way here because I led you to me. There are distraction fields everywhere, they won't be able to get to you here. Plus, you both could probably do with a stiff drink, you especially Gabe.”

  So they sat and, after Henry was drugged up again to make sure his power didn't spike, they drank. It started as a little, but then a little turned into a lot. Soon they were laughing about anything and everything, the world outside completely forgotten.

  “So, I've got this politician in bed and I'm rocking his world, if you know what I mean, and he asks for a receipt for when we are finished. Says he can put it down as an expense. I mean, what a thing to bring up then, of all times. Makes a girl feel unwanted. Well, that was before all the expenses scandal and fortunately he didn't quite make it out of here, so it didn't make the media coverage. You win some, you kill some. You know how it is,” Sabrina said as she swayed on her seat.

  “How did you end up here Sabrina? I mean, were you born an alternate?” Henry asked, even while inebriated he was still one for questions.

  “Gorgeous, apart from the Inks, we are all born alternates.” Sabrina said. “Mine isn't exactly the happiest of stories, but I suppose none of ours are. My brother and I were orphaned at the age of eleven on the streets of the under-city. My father and mother were members of one of the big covens who had gone to war with the Inquisition. They got in over their heads and the Inquisition inevitably came a-knocking and killed them. Abandoning us before it happened was their only choice. So we grew up here, mainly stealing and conning our way through life. I was good at mind tricks, my brother fast and strong. Together we were unbeatable. It was the world against us, and we always won. When we grew older-”

  “You went into prostitution and blackmail. Silas, well, he worked as a gun for hire, until he decided to join Deliverance. There are warrants for the capture of the both of you,” Gabriel said.

  “Well, yes, but you two can't bring me in, so what exactly is your point?” Sabrina said, her tone noticeably frosty.

  “There isn't one, but don't try and sell what you both do as noble. You are driven by money, your brother by power,” Gabriel said.

  “Well, lets try and keep it cheerful shall we?” Henry said.

  “Cheerful? Why are you in such a good mood, given that for all this to have happened, your father must have been killed tonight? You were aware of that, weren't you?” Sabrina said.

  It hit him like a tide of hailstones, leaving him no place to shelter. His father was dead? How could his father... be dead? Did Gabriel know? If he did, he would have said something, right? His father couldn't be dead. She was lying.

  Henry stared at Gabriel. She wasn't lying.

  “Henry, look at me,” Gabriel said, grabbing Henry by both shoulders as his world began to unravel. “The man you call your father is not dead. He is fine and well, probably at home with your mother and that stupid fluffy excuse of a dog, but Sabrina didn't lie to you. Your father, your biological father was killed tonight. It's how this works, it's why I came to find you. He dies, you get your abilities, it's the rules of the game. Henry, he told me to find you. Now, it's a lot to take in, but-”

  “A lot to take in! You tell me that my mother and father lied to me my entire life and expect me to be calm about it?” Henry said.

  “No, they didn't lie to you. The people you call your mother and father believe beyond anything that they are your real parents. Nobody ever questioned it, not even you and you're the proclaimed questioner of everything. Surely you can appreciate you don't exactly look alike? Before you were born, your real father knew this life would not be safe for you, so tried to free you from it. Your mother died in childbirth and, in that moment of pain, he created an escape plan for you. He had a mentalist change your parents memories so they thought you were theirs, after finding a couple who were looking to adopt. Mark has been killed, I don't know how yet, but at that moment your abilities switched on. I'm sorry kid.”

  There was so much to take in, too much. How he was supposed to react, Henry had no clue. His world had been tipped upside down again and again, and, rather than ending the right way up, everything just ended in chaos.

  “You said his name was Mark?” Henry said.

  “Yes, and I am proud to say we were close friends. Hence why he sent me to help you,” Gabriel said.

  “With a gun pointed at me?”

  “What other choice did I have, I couldn't exactly lay it all out, could I? You would be dead if I had not caught you when I did, we only had moments.”

  “Henry, did you not ever question why you just went along with everything Gabriel said?” Sabrina said. “You ended up trying to carry the man who kidnapped you thro
ugh a sewer, so he wouldn't get killed. Something about him you trusted. You're an Ink and they do that genetic memory stuff well enough. Gabriel and Mark were friends. Then they spent a long time working with each other, and you recognised him somewhere from those memories, your subconscious telling you he was a friend, not a foe.”

  “How do you know all that?” Henry said.

  “Oh, gave too much a way didn't I,” Sabrina paused as a guilty smile tugged at her lips. “While you have been off your face on my best wine, I've done a little perusing of your thoughts. I have never seen into an Ink's memories before, interesting stuff. You should teach him how to block that Gabriel.”

  She smiled, but Gabriel was not so cheerful. His face had gone red, his eyes focused intently on her. He threw his glass onto the floor, smashing it into pieces that flew off under the surrounding tables.

  “You did what?” Gabriel shouted.

  He could barely contain the anger, his fist trembling by his side. Gabriel took the gun from inside his pocket and fired twice. Sabrina slumped to the floor.

  “Gabriel, what the hell?” Henry said, kneeling down beside Sabrina.

  “She isn't dead. They don't die that easily, at least not the good ones anyway. Well, you know what I mean, good at their abilities, not as in Sunday school good,” Gabriel said.

  Gabriel walked back to the hallway and didn't turn back, even to see if Henry was following. He wasn't for a moment, still knelt beside Sabrina, until it struck him that if she did wake up having been shot twice, she would probably be in a foul mood. Best to stick with Gabriel.

  Henry caught up with him in the hallway, which was not how he remembered it. The walls were made of metal that had rusted, the whole place on the verge of collapse, with doors standing where the paintings had been.

  “Can you warn me when you do that in the future?” Henry said.

  “Sure.”

  “You know which one we want?”