23Ok! Firstly I would like to sincerely apologise for the lateness of this chapter. Over this year I have gone to university, dated for the first time, had a hard drive die on me losing all my fiction writing and coursework. So yeah, this is coming up a bit later then I would like. So I an VERY VERY SORRY to everyone out there! The next one is pretty much written now so will go up in the next week or two I promise! xx So hope you enjoy reading! :)
Chapter 12: Water and Blood
"The Fates has no pity for the dead; in the same way it has no pity for the living."
Faye gazed wide eyed at the boy under the table from where she sat sprawled on the floor. He looked no older then about five, with dark hair and skin and bright green eyes that shone like marbles in the gloom. He was sitting cross legged, clutching a teddy bear by the paw. His other hand was at his mouth and he was sucking his thumb. Faye would have thought him positively adorable if he hadn't just scared the crap out of her.
Though if he'd made the noise Faye was sure she was in no danger.
If Demons were going to attack me here I'm pretty sure they wouldn't have sent a little boy in Thomas the Tank Engine pyjamas as a vanguard.
Carefully Faye pushed herself up onto her elbows and smiled at the boy encouragingly.
"Yeah, I'm okay." she said, then added. "And my name isn't Tall Lady. It's Faye. What's yours?"
She spoke in a calm and soothing voice that best suited conversations with small children, the kind of voice that if you used it on an adult would be considered patronising. The boy's mouth twitched up at the corners in an uncertain smile. Faye had babysat enough in her youth to know how easy kids could get spooked around strangers, so Faye knew a smile was a good sign.
He quickly removed the thumb from his mouth and grinned sheepishly. "Faye." he said, as though testing the sound of the word in his mouth. "That's a pretty name. Mine's Oliver." He was missing one of his bottom teeth, Faye noticed, his tongue pushing out against the gap. "This is Kit." Oliver added as an afterthought, and he held out the bear, paw extended.
Faye smiled back at him. "Well it's very nice to meet you." she said, as she shook the bear's hand.
From somewhere downstairs came the sound of Patricia's warm, elderly voice.
"Oliver! Oliver!" The boy looked at the door, then tucked his knees up and put his finger to his lips.
"Shush! We're playing hide-and-seek!" he said in a child's whisper, which was just as loud as his normal voice. All the same Faye decided to humour him. She pinched her thumb and forefinger together then ran it across her mouth to show she'd be quiet before getting to her feet.
"Oliver! Are you up there?" came Patricia's voice again, now much closer. A second later she emerged from behind the open door, breathing heavily.
"Hi, Patricia." Faye said, going over to greet her.
"Oh! Hello, Faye dear." Patricia said distractedly. "I was just thinking of coming to check on you, but…" she paused and gave the room a once over with her eyes. "You... um…haven't seen a little boy wandering around by any chance?" she asked. "About yea high, dressed in blue pyjamas?"
Faye gave an overdramatic shrug and folded her arms. "No, Patricia I can't say that I have." she said loudly. There came an audible stream of giggling from somewhere behind Faye, quickly to be stifled.
Patricia's anxious face broke and she glanced around Faye at the table then back. Faye smiled down at her and gave a minute nod. Patricia smiled back and Faye watched as she made a big thing of searching the room; peering around the sofas, behind the pool table and down the corridor to the bedrooms.
"Well, I honestly have no idea where that little man could be hiding!" she declared loudly.
Faye couldn't help but beam. It was like looking back in time. She remembered all the times she'd played this with her mother and Abby, only now she was an onlooker, and no longer the laughing child hiding in plain sight.
Patricia looked back at Faye and winked. "I guess I'm just going to have to have dessert on my own tonight." she sighed.
"No, No, Nana!" Oliver yelled, pushing a chair out like a brick in a wall to extricate himself from his under-table prison.
"Oh! There you are! You nearly made me jump out of my skin!" cried Patricia, bending over to hug the boy who ran at her legs. Her smile was as broad and heartfelt as ever, but somehow it was different. That smile, Faye knew, was special, the kind of smile Faye's mother gave her. In the same way Patricia's smile was meant only for Oliver. It was a family smile, a smile of devotion and unrequited love.
It warmed Faye to see it. It was just so wholesome, so normal after the last few days.
Patricia pulled away from the boy and looked down into his face. "Now Oliver," she said, suddenly brisk. "you know you don't come up here. You don't play upstairs, do you."
Oliver looked suddenly guilty and shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "I know Nana. I'm sorry."
Patricia looked appeased. "Well, that's alright then. Just don't do it again." She smiled warmly and Oliver beamed back.
"Nana?" Oliver asked tentatively, taking her hand. "Can I come have dessert?"
"Of course you can." said Patricia, walking back to where Faye was leaning against the back of the sofa.
"And…" Oliver clung shyly to Patricia's leg as he looked up at Faye. "Can Miss Faye come too?"
"Of course she can, now that her patient is up and about again."
Faye nodded and Oliver smiled up at her, detaching himself from Patricia's legs and hurrying to the door.
"I'll go get Mama!" he called, before disappearing around the door.
"Don't run down the stairs." Patricia called before tottering off after him, followed closely by Faye.
"So you've seen Cale then?" she asked as they descended the staircases to the ground floor.
"Yes." Patricia panted as she lowered herself slowly down each step. "I saw him on his way out with Fabien. He looked very healthy thanks to you."
Faye felt herself blush.
"I didn't do anything really, Patricia. You're the one that pulled the bullets out and bandaged him. I just sat there and waited."
Patricia turned to look at Faye and her eyes crinkled at the edges as she smiled. "Sometimes dear, that's all that's needed. Anyone can learn to stitch a man's wound, but it takes a different sort of person entirely to stay and watch over them, who cares enough to comfort and talk to them, especially when that man is a stranger."
Faye couldn't find the words to form a response. It felt like something was stuck in her throat. Instead Patricia took her arm and smiled knowingly.
"It's alright, dear. Now, let's go and get that dessert before it goes cold."
Fabien sighed as the two of them made their way east along Fenchurch Street through crowds of grey, haggard looking business people. The snow had ebbed and turned to a thin sleet though the sky above remained a uniform, steely grey.
Finally Cale had had enough and rolling his eyes spoke.
"What is it, Fabien?" he asked. "You've been wanting to say something ever since we left, so just say it. But if it's about that damn motorcycle then-"
"No." Fabien interjected. "Though you're never touching her again by the way." he added, pointing a long finger meaningfully at Cale. Smiling he lowered his hand. "No, it's just…" Fabien fell in to silence, thinking as they made their way east. No one saw them. Cale's shield was enough to cover the two of them so they walk like the ghosts they were through the crowd. Finally Fabien swallowed. "Cale, I was just wondering what you've been thinking about Faye?"
Cale faltered in his step, turning to look at Fabien. Fabien met his eyes levelly, straight and sombre in a way that Cale rarely saw.
Where's he going with this? he thought, but said nothing.
"Something is different about you." Fabien continued, brows furrowed. "The Cale I know is flat, cold; even emotionless at times. You tune out the world and live for the job."
"Your point?"
"My point is you get up, gather souls, kill Demons then go home, the same way you've been doing for as long as I can remember. But now…" he gestured up and down at Cale's body as though his point should be obvious. When Cale gave him a droll look he said. "It's Faye. The way you're jumping to her defence, offering her protection at one of our residences- which is definitely beyond your duties as a Soul Reaper." Fabien tilted his head slightly, watching Cale intently as he spoke. "You can't stand the idea of abandoning her, can you? You can't stand the idea of those Demons getting hold of her again, of doing her harm, of not being able to stop them."
Cale gritted his teeth and turned on Fabien. A grey haired man talking on a mobile phone had to step quickly into the road to avoid him but didn't blink twice at the obstruction and Cale ignored him in return. "Of course!" Cale growled, "Why the hell should I want to see her hurt? I've seen more than enough of what those things can do."
Cale's mind flashed back to two years ago. They'd gone out to the suburbs, having sensed a strong Demonic presence. He and Fabien had arrived at a little house at the end of a quiet, normal street, with a grassy front lawn, a blue front door and a set of swings in the garden. The Demons were gone by the time they arrived and the place was a wreck. Blood spattered the walls, furniture was upturned, windows smashed and the doors caved in. They'd found the family inside. The father seemed to have put up a good fight. His arm still clutched the baseball bat tightly where it lay eight feet away from his glassy eyed corpse while his bowls spilled out onto the living room carpet. The mother had been upstairs in one of the little girl's rooms. She seemed to have been trying to barricade the three of them inside. They'd raped her savagely, and her two daughters too. Neither could have been older then ten. There had been so much blood. And the sight of their three bodied piled up on the bed, as though they were nothing more than garbage, still brought a sour taste to Cale's mouth. And it had all been done for fun. It was just a game before the Demons fed on their corpses. It was too familiar, and far too common scene he'd witnessed over the centuries.
He took a steadying breath and looked at Fabien. Somehow he knew Fabien was thinking of the same thing.
"I would never send anyone out to face that fate." Cale said slowly.
Fabien nodded solemnly. "I know you wouldn't. Nether would I. I'm not condemning you or what you did for Faye. Hell, I don't think in your position I would have don't anything differently. I'm just saying you didn't have to do what you did for her. It's outside of our jurisdiction, as well you know. We just protect humans, we don't sort out their messed up lives for them. But…" he gave a half smiled. "you're trying to do just that, and my point is it's not like you."
They rounded a corner.
"And…" He hesitated, picking his words. "I saw the way you looked at her- when you promised her her life back- as though you'd do it or die trying. I've never seen you so resolute, so riled up." Fabien stopped in the street and looked up at Cale interestedly. "I don't think you even know it yourself yet, but you have feelings for her, don't you?"
There was a silence, thick as the sleet that soaked them in which Fabien watched Cale. After a moment Cale's brows furrowed and he opened his mouth, but somehow he couldn't find any words to fill the space.
Feelings for Faye?
Cale's tongue felt suddenly leaden in his mouth, his mind was reeling.
Did he have feelings for her?
It was true that he had protective feelings for her. In a way Cale wanted to save her, as he hadn't been able to save his own family or that one two years ago. He wanted to protect Faye because he needed to know that he could at least do that much. What good was his immortality, his powers, his strength and training if he couldn't at least save her? But the situation with Faye was so much more than that, he knew. He wanted to save her.
An image of Faye suddenly surfaced in Cale's mind. He thought of the colour of her eyes, the way her hair framed her face, her subtle scent. The smooth curve of her breast, her slender waist, her full hips. How she had felt in his arms the night they'd first met. The way she'd touched his shoulder back in his room. Oh how could such a simple touch feel so good? They barely knew each other. He could count their meetings on one hand, but still…. he couldn't deny it to himself.
She was so damn sexy, and he wanted her. He wanted to feel her warmth. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her like he'd never kissed anyone before. He wanted to bury his hands in her hair and hear her whisper his name in the dark. He wanted to feel her body under his, hot and wet and supple, with that sweet silk between her legs…
But it was more than that too, more than just the physical need. A part of him wanted no more than to just see her eyes, to see her smile, hear her voice.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and took a long, deep breath. It was all true and he didn't understand why he felt that way.
Fabien looked at him closely. Then he gave out a great bark of a laugh. He clapped Cale on the shoulder and said, "Don't worry about it, mate. We all fall for them sooner or later."
Cale was just about to tell Fabien where he could go, when he felt a chill in the air; a sudden movement, a strain, a tension that rippled through him and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The both stopped, the businessmen filing around them, completely unaware of his presence.
"You feel that?" he asked searching with his mind for the source of the disturbance.
"Yeah." Fabien replied, his voice suddenly as sharp as a knife's edge. "South; about a mile."
Cale turned to the direction Fabien was facing and nodded when he felt the aura focus to a point. There was no mistaking that feeling. Death emanated from that point like a vapour. Cale could taste it in the back of his mind, dank and dark. Someone was dead; no it was more than that, Cale realised. More than one. A lot more.
"Let's go." he said. And with that the two of them were off, hurrying through the streets, people unknowingly parting for them as Cale reached out to their minds. Finally the two of them turned onto the embankment out by Tower Bridge. Cale drew up by the railing and looked out over the expanse of churning brown water. He felt the death and his eyes quickly found the source.
Fabien came to a halt beside him a moment later, breathing hard.
"Where…is… it?" he panted looking at Cale, but Cale didn't meet his gaze. His face was as hard and cold as stone, his eyes as dead as the corpses he watched. Fabien followed his gaze and swore under his breath. Down on the shores of the Thames, washing up gently against the pebbles, were the bodies of at least twenty people. Their clothes were soaked through, clinging to their bodies; their hair plastered to their bloodless, blue lipped faces while eyes stared out blankly at the world they could no longer see.
Gulls swarmed around them, squawking and pecking at the soft flesh of their faces and arms. And Cale and Fabien weren't the only ones who had noticed them. Other people had stopped, were gazing open mouthed. A group of German businessmen were pointing and anxiously talking to people on their mobiles. A mother was pulling her young son away, covering his eyes. A few people screamed, one man threw up, and still more were running over, taking photographs or videos with their phones.
Without a word Cale vaulted the black metal railing and landed halfway down the stone stairs slick with mud, slime and salt water. A moment later Fabien followed suit. The smell was what hit Cale first; the smell of decay and purification, of wet cloth, mud, bile, shit and blood. It smelled of death and it was so thick Cale could taste it in the heavy air that smothered him as he approached. He looked at them, but felt nothing He didn't allow himself to. He closed himself to it, forced all emotion into the blackness and let his mind glaze over.
Work. That's all this was.
Once on the thin strip of stony shore that bordered the brown water at low tide he began to walk amongst the dead, searching out their souls. The vast majority of them were male, Cale noticed; large, and varying in age from mid teens to about forty. None of their souls were particularly clean or pure. Most were a murky green or a rusty red colour, the colour of dried blood. It didn't surprise him. From the look of their hard, brutish faces, tattoos and various firearms- holstered or otherwise- they were unlikely to the purest of people. It satisfied Cale to a certain degree, as much as a death could. With souls like these, whoever these people had been they had done more than enough in their lives to deserve to die.
After a while Cale came to a body, much smaller then the others, laying face down, half in the surf half out, while the waves slowly lapped at it. Kneeling down Cale turned her over.
The front of her chest had been slashed wide, from right shoulder, through a breast to nearly her navel, so deep it had sawn through the stark white of her ribs and the dark red of the organs beneath. Her short red hair was limp, dull and salty where it fell across her pretty, pixyish face. Her green eyes were wide and pale, her mouth open in a silent, eternal scream.
Fuck. Cale cursed silently.
Her skin was as pale in death as Cale had seen it in life. It was the red headed girl from Angel's Landing; the girl who had been tied up next to Faye on the coffee table.
Cale closed his eyes.
What the fuck is going on?
Taking a calming breathhe leaned back over the girl.
It's just work.
He laid a tender hand on her chest. He could feel her soul inside her body. She was scared, her soul unwilling to leave its vessel.
'Come on. There's no need to be frightened.' he told her, forcing his voice to be soothing and low.
'It's so cold. The water is so cold.' The voice was meek; sad and quavering, as though it wanted to cry. 'I'm so cold.'
Cale homed in on the voice and tried to alleviate the pain she felt. Her death hadn't been clean. He could tell that. It had been a drawn out, painful experience and it sickened him.
'It's alright.' he said, 'I'm going to take you somewhere warm.'
Her soul gave no sign of moving.
Cale knew he could force her soul out of the body; rip it away as easily as plucking an apple from a tree. But he wouldn't. Death had been difficult enough on her and she deserved to be taken from her body gently, peacefully, respectfully, in a way her killer and her tormenters before had not.
I could have saved her, Cale thought to himself. Damn it. I could have just as easily saved this girl instead of Faye that night if she had fallen into my arms. If I had she would still be alive. But, another part of him mind asked, then where would Faye be? Dead and naked on the shore of the Thames like her? Or worse? The thought sparked fire in Cale's stomach, hot and heavy; a deep anger that pounded in his blood, through his ears and chest. He forced it into the darkness and concentrated. He had a job to do.
'I can take you away. I can take you somewhere far away from this.'
'Will it be warm?' the girl's soul asked. 'I don't want to be cold anymore. Death is cold here.'
'It'll be warm there, I promise.'
Tenderly he showed it the heat of his body, a warm escape. And slowly, ever so slowly, she let go and came to the heat of his open palm. Cale lifted his hand and through her skin came a shining pale light. It grew brighter and brighter until, like a glittering fish breaking the surface of a still pool, the shining orb emerged from the girl's body. It was a delicate mother of pearl colour, not quite pure but beautiful in its nature and its essence.
She must have been a wonderful person to have such a beautiful soul, Cale thought.
Gently he closed his hand around the orb and the light faded from between his fingers until there was nothing left. But Cale could feel her there, small and fragile inside his heart. He would release her later along with the others he'd gathered; send her to her warm place.
"You found anything?!" Fabien called from somewhere further down the beach.
"Yeah." Cale said.
Fabien came over as Cale came to his feet and inspected the girl over his shoulder. He tsked through his teeth. "Hell." he swore, "She was so young. No more than a kid."
"I knew her." Cale murmured, "At least, I saw her once. She was at Angel's Landing the night I met Faye."
It was then he spotted the old man a way off, his silver topped cane still clutched tightly in his hand and half his face missing to the birds. His soul was gone from his body -Cale would have sensed it otherwise- but he didn't care.
Let him wander. At this point if I had his soul I'd more than likely smash the black thing to pieces against a wall. The world would be better rid of him forever.
Cale turned back to Fabien and gestured at the surrounding bodies. "These are the gang members from Angel's Landing. The ones who'd drugged Faye."
Fabien frowned. "Who do you think killed them? Demons?"
"No doubt." The wounds on those of the mutilated corpses were consistent with the wounds Cale knew Demon claws made and Fabien knew that too.
"But it's nothing like their usual cover up." Fabien said. "It's just so unlike them. Sure, I've seen their mass killings before, but never this public. They usually make it look like a cult's mass suicide or a serial killer; not this."
Cale nodded and began to walk amongst the dead, studying their bodies more closely. He turned his gaze upriver. Angel's Landing was a good twenty miles away by water. "There's no way all these bodies washed up here from Angel's Landing. They had to have been dumped here. And that makes me think that whoever did this was either very stupid or actively trying to cause a scene. Or more likely, both."
"But why? Were they trying to cover up what they'd done by making it look like someone in this part of the city killed them?"
Cale nodded, thinking. "If you don't want to be accused then the best thing to do is try and get it blamed on someone else. Most likely they tried to make it look like another bloody episode in a gang war." He gestured to the bodies. "Most of these guys died of bullet wounds to the head or heart. From the angle and proximity I would guess they were taken by surprise in a crowded room." Cale pointed out a few of the other corpses "But those few with guns in their hands have been ripped apart. And they all look terrified."
Fabien blew his hair out of his eyes in a sign of exhaustion. "So some Demon surprised a group of humans, took out half by surprising them and when the other half realised what was going on and tried to defend themselves the Demon turned into Hellboy and-" He made a quick violent gesture with his hands. "He gets a twenty course meal then realises he has no clue what to do with the bodies, panics and dumps them here. The police think it's just another mass murder, convert it to cold case and he get off scott free as per usual."
Cale couldn't help but give out a dry laugh.
Fabien looked at him sceptically. "What?"
"The police are incompetent but they're not completely stupid."
"What do you mean?"
Cale pointed to one of the Glock 40's still snugly sitting in its holster. "What gang do you know would kill a member of another, dump the body but not take his gun? None. The investigators will know that. Plus no human could rip a body apart like that. But you're right. It will just end up as a cold case whether they think they understand what happened here or not. But a Demon's surprise attack makes no sense. If he was attacking out of nowhere them he would go in already in his Demonic form, not as a human. It's more effective to kill as a Demon than a human and less risky for the Demon too."
Cale knelt down beside one of the bodies: A tall man with a shaved head and a broad face and flat nose. His face was wide with fear and more subtly, surprise.
"They knew their attacker," Cale realised. "But they didn't know what he was until he transformed. Whoever was doing this was scared and panicked when the guns started to appear."
From off in the distance came the sound of sirens.
"But there's still the question of why?" Fabien asked.
Cale got to his feet. "Well it wasn't for food. Not a single one I saw had a bite on them. You?"
Fabien shook his head. "No, none of mine either."
"So whoever the Demon was all he wanted was these guys dead."
Fabien nodded then his eyes flashed as realisation flitted across his face. "Mason."
Cale frowned. "What about him?"
"Wasn't that who Faye said drugged her at Angel's Landing. He knew these guys, pretty well it seemed, and he was there the night Faye was nearly kidnapped. He's a Demon."
"Are you suggesting he killed them?"
Fabien shrugged and watched the embankment wall. The sirens were getting louder and they could see the reflections of the flashing lights in the windows of the buildings around them. "I'm seeing two and two making four." Fabien said. "Mason was trusted by these guys. Perhaps not enough to carry a weapon around them, but as he's a Demon he would be quick enough to steal one before anyone could notice or stop him."
Cale frowned as the sirens reached a tumult.
"Possibly. I can't see what his motive would be though? From what I saw, Mason was a favourite of the old bastard running things. So why kill a very powerful man with a lot of very powerful friends who could do you a lot of harm?"
"Unless there's someone very powerful and a fuck load scarier out there who could do you a lot more." There was a silence, except for the approaching sirens and the churning of the river. It was a logical theory, Cale realised, and a very sound one too at that.
"The only question now," Cale said, watching the police taskforce come hurrying down the stone stairs towards them. "is who is powerful enough to control Demons and a fuck load scarier than an underground drug lord?"
Fabien laughed darkly. "Your guess is as good as mine."
Cale watched as the police began setting out a line of yellow tape around the crime scene, sticking metal poles into the loose pebbles to wrap it around as the crowd watching from above grew ever larger, held back by officers in florescent yellow jackets.
Cale and Fabien began to walk away through the police, lifting the warning tape. No one even registered that they were there.
Cale still had very little idea what was going on. But that was going to change, and soon. He had goals now, and top of his list was to kill that son-of-a-bitch Mason; but not before he made him tell him everything he knew about the plan to kidnap Faye and make him pay for the pain he'd caused her.
Hey Guys! Hope this was ok!? Just trying to get the story line together and set up the next part of the story. As always review and subscribe! xx