The agents demon, p.18
The Agent's Demon, page 18
Steel’s fists dig into his thighs. “Why did you stop him?”
“If you two get into a fight here, it’s the guests who’ll suffer. And you.” I stare at him until he drops his gaze and looks away.
I know little of demon Houses, or hierarchy, but to be considered second among them all must mean this House Leviathan is important. Was important. What does that mean for Steel? I dearly want to ask, but guilt stays my tongue. He never intended for me to hear that conversation, and I will not earn his trust by forcing it out of him.
“Come,” I say, drawing him away from the corner with gentle hands. “Rayne can have the carriage: you and I can walk home.” It’s not that far, and the night air will clear his head. Perhaps he’ll open up on the way. I lead him out of the room and call for the butler, who attends me with a polite, distant expression.
“How can I help, miss?”
“We’re leaving,” I tell him, throwing on my cloak. “Please relay our apologies for our abrupt departure.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
There’s a loud knock at the door. The butler, half-turned away to carry out my request, turns back. He opens the door a fraction, enough for me to catch sight of Doyle’s frightened face.
“Doyle?” I step up to the door, frowning. The boy’s alone, panting as though he’s run a mile. “What’s going on?”
“You need to come, miss,” he huffs out. “There’s—there’s been another murder.”
Chapter twenty-nine
“Another murder?”
“Aye, miss. I was passing near the Tower and I ’eard the local police give up the cry. Miss Bhatt said you and Rayne’d be here and told me to come sharpish and tell you.”
My stomach clenches into a hard knot. “Please send for Agent Rayne,” I tell the butler. “Have him come here at once.” The butler bows and leaves. “Where did it happen, Doyle?”
“The International Workers’ Club, miss. Up by Berner Street.”
“I know it. Thank you.”
“Do you want me to take you there, miss?” He pales as he says it. I shake my head.
“Go back to the agency; wait for Monaghan. We’ll find out what we can and join you there.”
“Aye. Be careful, miss.” He disappears into the gloom of the street and I yank on my gloves.
“Berner Street,” Steel asks, donning his cloak. “Is that in Whitechapel?”
“On the district border.” My hands are shaking. I still them by clenching my fingers together. Come on, Rayne. “If we get there in time, do you think you can track the killer?”
“If the trail isn’t too obscured, yes.”
Rayne materialises, finally. “What is it? I was in the middle of—”
“Doyle found us,” I cut in. “There’s been another murder. We need to go.”
To his credit, Rayne does not ask questions, just grabs his cloak and gestures at me to lead the way.
It’s almost two in the morning, and the city is quiet, but as our coach approaches Spitalfields the chatter grows. Berner Street, when we reach it, is clustered with people.
I jump out of the coach before the driver stops and stride over to the crescent line of police holding back the crowd. The place is lit with flickering gas lamps and faint mist curls over the air. I pull my cloak tighter around me. A body lies behind the officers, on the path heading into the yard.
“Officer!” I call to the nearest policeman. “What happened?”
The man glances at me, takes in my cloak and the green silk peeping out underneath. “Move along, miss. The street ain’t a circus.”
“We need to see the officer in charge,” Rayne commands and flashes his identification. “I’m a government agent.”
“You could be the Queen herself and you wouldn’t be getting any closer. Move on, now.” He pushes us back, his truncheon barring us from getting any nearer.
“These are City district police,” I tell Rayne, taking note of their uniform. Berner Street lies on the other side of the district’s border from Whitechapel. “They’re not going to let us in.”
Rayne mutters a curse. “If we can’t get closer to the body, how can we find the killer?”
I turn to Steel. “What do you think?” I ask, keeping my voice low. “Can you sense anything from here?”
The demon gazes past the police at the heap of cloth and blood that’s all we can see of the victim. “There is something,” he says. “I’m not sure what class it is. But there’s something.”
“What are you waiting for, then?” Rayne asks. “Where is it?”
Steel glares at him and I touch his arm, draw his attention to me. “Can you follow the trail?”
“I’ll try.”
He steps away from the crowd, heading north. He walks slowly, placing his feet with care, Rayne, Cassius and I following. Ten minutes pass and I realise we’re nearing Aldgate Station.
A cry sounds from somewhere ahead. “Murder! Murder in Mitre Square!”
“Mitre Square?” I repeat. “But the body was found in—” I look at Steel and see the same realisation in his face as it rips through me: two murders.
We race towards the shout. Mitre Square is a spacious gathering place surrounded by buildings. Police stand near a fence on one side, their faces glowing golden in the lights. Beyond them lies a body, the stone paving around it shining darkly.
“Wait.” Rayne grips my elbow. “Stay here.”
“But—”
“You shouldn’t see this,” he says, sternly, and joins the mass of spectators, Cassius at his side. I wait until they engage a policeman, and then go around to stand at the edge of the crowd, close enough to see the body.
Blood soaks the woman’s clothes and spills onto the ground, running over the mud to my feet. Her throat is cut, just like the others, but her face—her face is unrecognisable. Her nose is a jagged hole and parts of her cheeks have been carved off, exposing bloody red muscle and white bone.
I push away a surge of horror and disgust. I don’t want to remember this sight, to be haunted by it every time I try to sleep.
I know I will be, regardless.
Biting my cheek, I turn to Steel. “This is where the trail was leading,” he murmurs, staring at the body. “The killer ran here and killed again.”
Two murders in one night. I swallow bile, try to think. A doctor kneels beside the woman, categorising her injuries. A little way distant stands a young, dark-skinned man with curly hair. “Come on,” I tell Steel, approaching the assistant. “Mr. Green. I’m glad you’re here.”
The man glances at me, then again. “I—Miss Locke. I mean, Agent Locke, my apologies. What are you doing here?”
“We were passing by,” I lie, “and we heard the ruckus. Could you tell us how she died?”
“It’s not—I’m not sure if…” He trails off, and I read the same concern in his face that drove Rayne to keep me away from the body.
“I appreciate your caution,” I say, tamping down my annoyance, “but I need to know. It may help the investigation.”
He nods. “Her throat was cut,” he begins, “again, like the other victims. What’s different this time… Well, judging by the wounds to her cheeks and nose, I would say he tried to slice off her face.”
“Go on,” I say, when he pauses.
“The—the intestines were removed and left near the body,” he continues. “Her right ear has been cut. There appear to be more injuries to her abdomen, but we won’t know much more until the post-mortem. I hope…uh, I assume that’s what you wanted to know?”
Swallowing, it takes me a moment to speak. “Yes. Thank you, Mr. Green.”
“Will I expect you at the mortuary?”
“We’ll be there as soon as we can. I assume the police will get the report first, but I’d appreciate anything else you can tell us.”
“Of course.” The doctor calls Green to the corpse and he sketches a quick bow before he retreats.
“Do these injuries look like the work of a demon to you?” I ask Steel.
His mouth curls in distaste. “Possibly, though I can’t think of any spell that would necessitate the injuries to her face.”
Rayne joins us, then. “Who were you talking to?” he asks, glancing at Green as the man lifts the body onto the cart to be removed.
“The mortuary assistant. He told us what happened to her.”
“I doubt an assistant would be able to comprehend the nature of this crime,” he replies, dismissively.
“Were you able to speak to the doctor?” I counter. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. “For now, I suggest we search the area. Steel, would you mind?” I ask, before Rayne can protest.
“Perhaps you’ll be able to find something before I do, this time,” Cassius drawls.
I ignore the Phantom. “If there’s anything you sense, let me know. The trail led here, so it must lead on.”
He nods and pulls away. I watch him walk along the side of the street, shoulders hunched and head down. Cassius murmurs something to Rayne under his voice, and the Phantom trails after Steel, peering at the buildings on either side of the road. I start after them and find Rayne beside me.
“Your demon must learn to get along with the others,” the man says. “He’s not a stray dog, he’s a member of the agency.”
Needled, I reply with more heat than I intend. “Cassius has been griping at him all evening. If Steel chooses to reply with force, I can hardly stop him.”
“This is not a fighting ring. I won’t have them beating each other up.”
“Then you should speak to your partner.” I turn my back on him and go to meet the demons as they’re walking back. Steel holds something in his palm. “You found something?”
He holds it out. The talon is thin and curved like an owl’s.
“Seems your Hound is good for something, after all,” Cassius interjects, and I cast him a swift glare.
Rayne plucks the claw out of Steel’s hand. “Scout demons can mimic others, like Stalkers,” he muses. “This might explain the various different suspects that the witnesses have identified.”
“Scouts only mimic voices, or certain features,” Steel replies. “They don’t have the skill to hold a shape for as long as it would take to murder these women.”
I examine the claw. “It also doesn’t fit with what the Stalker demon told us: Scout demons are copper class. We’re looking for silver.”
Rayne shrugs. “The thing must have lied.”
Steel looks as though he's about to say something, then pauses. I raise my eyebrows at him, and he shakes his head. “I will keep looking for a trail,” he says, instead of whatever he was going to say. “Though it seems he’s masked his presence so well I’m having trouble tracking him.”
“See what else you can find,” Rayne tells Cassius. “Look in the buildings, too. We’ll be here for a while.”
I tuck my cloak around me and settle in to wait.
Chapter thirty
We stay until dawn lightens the dark blue at the horizon. Steel’s expression is grim, and I know we won’t locate anything further tonight. We hire two hansom cabs, and I sit silently beside Steel on our way home. The image of the woman’s body keeps flashing in front of my eyes, blood and muscle and broken skin. I blink it away.
The agency is dark and silent on our return. I go to put away our cloaks and pause. Two familiar coats hang in the closet, fresh with dirt. Eve and Khurana are back.
It’s almost five in the morning. My eyes are hot and sore and desperate to close, but more than sleep I want to see Eve. I didn’t realise how badly I needed to hear her voice until the urge sweeps over me.
“What is it?” Steel asks.
“Eve and Khurana have returned,” I reply, over my shoulder, holding my skirts out of the way of my hasty feet.
We reach my old room and I hesitate on the threshold. It’s a good four-hour train ride from Bristol; Eve won’t take kindly to being woken at this hour.
I push the door open a crack. The fire is lit, casting a warm glow over the small metal beds—empty—and over Eve’s hunched figure, sitting on the floor.
“Eve?” Her face is pressed to her knees, and my eagerness to see her drains out of me. “Are you all right?”
She lifts her head, and reveals a face stained with tears. “Hazel.”
“Eve.” I fold to my knees at her side. I’ve never seen her cry like this. “Are you hurt? Is Khurana hurt?”
“No, it’s…nothing like that.” She wipes her face and smiles tremulously at the floor. Her curls are coming loose; the oil she uses to smooth them into her bun lies unopened on the cabinet. As I watch, a shiver runs through her.
One of the beds is within reach and I pull off its blanket and throw it around her shoulders. “Tell me what happened.”
“The case,” she begins, haltingly. “It was—You didn’t see it, you can’t…” She sniffles and wipes her nose. “Babies, Hazel. They were just babies. They were…” She makes a gesture with her hands, forming a too tiny shape, then puts both hands to her face. “She strangled them. And then she dumped their bodies in the river.”
I hug her tighter, press my face to her shoulder and hope the meagre comfort helps. “Was it a demon?” I ask, after a moment. I feel her shake her head.
“That’s the worst part,” she mutters. “She was human. No—she was a monster.” I don’t know what to say, how to take away her grief. I just hug her as close as I can. “I don’t know if I can do this,” Eve whispers.
What I saw tonight was awful, but the thought of what Eve must have seen brings tears to my own eyes. “You can,” I say, blinking them back. “Now you know what people are capable of. Now you know what you’re capable of.”
She huffs a laugh and leans her temple against my forehead. “That’s a good speech.”
“Maybe I needed to hear it, too,” I admit, watching the fire crackle.
After a long pause, Eve stirs and wipes her face. “Tell me about your case.”
“It can wait. Why don’t you go to sleep? We can speak tomorrow.”
“Yes. I want to meet your new demon.”
I glance over my shoulder. Steel stands in the corridor, at the edge of our bond. “I want you to make sure he’s doing his job right,” I tell her and Eve smiles. I wipe her cheeks with my thumbs, smoothing the tracks of tears away. “Come on, into bed.”
Eve lets me hustle her into the nearest bunk without protest, even allowing me to smother her with blankets until only her face is visible.
“I missed you, you know,” I say, sitting beside her. “No one else tells me when I’m being a fool.”
“You’re not a fool.” Her eyes sparkle. “You’re just stubborn.”
“Pot; kettle,” I shoot back. “Sleep. We’ll speak at breakfast. Lunch,” I correct, glancing at the sky outside.
Eve hums a response. I wait until her breathing evens out and slows down. Then, I bank the fire and slip out of the room.
I catch Steel in the middle of a yawn. “Sorry,” I whisper. “We can go now.”
He casts a curious glance over my shoulder but asks no questions, so I head to our rooms. He disappears into his, making straight for the bed, and I enter mine. I feel wrung dry, as if all the life has been twisted out of me.
I glance in the mirror and jerk to a stop. Scarlet stains reach up from the hem of my once-beautiful dress, staining the silk ruffles. Mud is caked onto the parts the blood hasn’t touched, as though I’d waded through a stream.
My throat closes up. I rip the dress from my body. Buttons ping off and scatter over the floor. With shaking hands, I strip away the skirt and toss it into a pile on the floor, then peel off the bodice and fling it across the room. When I’m done, I clench my hands and suck in air until the pressure on my chest eases and the tears that burn my eyes recede.
I dress again in my old wool skirt and jacket, and sit by the window with Turner’s journal, waiting for the light. I will not sleep tonight.
Chapter thirty-one
October dawns clear and cold. The few trees on the street are dusted with red and gold, and their crisp leaves carpet the pavement. It’s been over a month since Turner died, and now three more women have joined her.
I must look as grim as I feel. When I enter the kitchen Maia shoves a cup of tea into my hand. “Sit,” she orders. “I will bring you something to eat.”
“Thank you.” Eve is already at the table, her plate empty. I sit opposite her, leaving room for Steel beside me. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” Her voice is crisp, unladen with the grief she wore last night. She cups her own tea and regards Steel as he sits down. “So, you’re the new Hound. The classless one. Is that why you’re not a Sentinel?” she asks him. “Because they exiled you?”
Steel pauses, his spoon halfway to his mouth. “I suppose,” he replies, and continues eating.
“Seems a little odd,” Eve continues. “Three hundred years, and the agency has never met a male Hound. Why is that?”
“The effects of the spell are determined by the caster,” Steel replies. “You should be asking your professor, not me.”
Eve sets her elbows on the table, levelling Steel with a sharp look. “None of our demons have mentioned your existence. Why?”
“Why would they give up others of our kind to be captured and imprisoned, you mean?”
She frowns thoughtfully. “You’re not going to answer any of my questions, are you?”
“I can’t answer what I don’t know.”
“That’s an evasion, not an answer.”
He smirks at her.
“Steel has been helping me with the Whitechapel murders,” I say. “He has no reason to deceive us.” The lie is for Steel’s benefit. If I’m to learn anything about him and his abilities, as Monaghan asked, then he can’t think I suspect him.
“You’ll be meeting Khurana, later. Consider this a rehearsal.”
I nearly drop my cup. “Khurana?”
Eve looks regretful. “I meant to tell you: you’re to meet her in the hall when you’re done here. She’s going to test Steel.”
