Kiera Hudson & The Lethal Infected (9 page)

Chapter Sixteen

“I told you this was a dumb fucking idea,” Murphy said, coming from Ravenwood’s study and into the hall. “You could have got us all killed.”

“It would have gone okay if someone…” Potter started.

“I’m sorry, but you must be confusing me with someone who actually gives a fuck in anything you’ve got to say,” Murphy said, limping across the floor toward the staircase.

“You don’t understand,” Potter said, gripping his friend’s arm. “Someone tried to kill Sophie.”

“She will die,” Hunt said. “It’s just a matter of time.”

Hearing this, I stepped out of the shadows and toward the others. I stood to one side of them, but close enough to hear. I knew my eyes were still red-raw from the tears I had spilt at learning that Sophie was carrying Potter’s child.

“Who did this?” Murphy snapped, looking at Hunt then back at Potter.

“If I knew that, the fucker would be dead already,” Potter said.

“Don’t you think there has been enough violence for one night?” Hunt cut in. “This should be reported back to the agency – back to Lois Li.”

“Have you lost you tiny fucking mind?” Potter asked. “Or perhaps you want to go and explain how you’ve screwed up here tonight?” 

“I screwed up?” Hunt balked. “The bottles were switched.”

“You should have kept that bottle of black stuff under lock and key,” Potter snapped at him. “You shouldn’t have let it out of your sight.”

“I thought it was quite safe in my laboratory,” Hunt defended himself. “How was I meant to know that someone would want to switch the bottles and kill Sophie?”

“Well, someone wanted to,” Murphy said, taking his pipe from his pocket and thumbing a mound of tobacco into the bowl.

“But who and why?” Hunt asked.

“That’s what we’re gonna find out,” Potter said.

“How?” Hunt asked. “There are no clues.”

Slowly, Potter turned and looked at me. “There’s always clues – isn’t that right, Kiera Hudson?”

“Do you really expect me to help clear up this mess you’ve created?” I asked him, unable to believe his nerve. “I told you it was dangerous.”

Coming back across the hall, Potter took me by the arm again, steering me back into the shadows beneath the broad staircase. “I told you I had no choice,” he said just above a whisper.

I suspected by the level of his voice, and the fact he had moved us away from Murphy and Hunt, they didn’t have any idea that Sophie was pregnant with his child. Why had he told me and not them? As far as I knew, in this world he was my boss and I was just the office eye candy. It was the others who were his friends – not me.

“I can’t help you,” I told him. “We have no suspects or motive, and I wouldn’t even know where to start looking.”

“Bollocks,” Potter whispered. “I saw you at work back at Bastille Hall. You were like a freaking bloodhound once you had picked up the scent.”

“There is no scent here,” I said. “And besides, I’m not a part of this.”

“You’re one of
us
,” he hissed.

“I’m nothing like you,” I shot back, still feeling angry and hurt.

“What has got into you?” he asked, wide-eyed as if he had no idea.

“You came barging in on me and my date tonight…” I started.

“Date?” Potter suddenly scoffed. “I thought he was some schoolboy and you were helping him to do his homework. He didn’t look any older than ten years…”

“Get out of my way,” I said, trying to push past him.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he said, placing one hand on my shoulder, keeping me pinned to the shadows. “What else is eating you up?”

“I thought you had invited me here tonight because…” I bit my lower lip to stop it from trembling all over again.

“Because of what?” Potter said. “You’re not making any sense.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said with a shake of my head. “Did you really just invite me here tonight so I could watch you turn Sophie?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “You’re part of the team. I thought it only right that you were here to witness Sophie…” he trailed off.

“What?” I pushed.

“Sophie was right, you are jealous of her, and that’s why you won’t help to find out who tried to kill her tonight,” he said.

“You’re wrong, Potter,” I said, although deep down he was right.

“Prove it,” he taunted me.

“I don’t have to prove anything to you,” I said, glancing up over his shoulder to see Murphy limping toward us. A cloud of blue smoke trailed behind him.

“What’s with you two?” he grunted.

“Nothing,” Potter said, taking a step back from me. I felt like I could suddenly breathe again.

“So what was with all the whispering?” Murphy eyed the both of us.

“Maybe you should go and ask someone who gives a fuck,” Potter huffed, turning and heading back to Hunt, who still stood by the open doorway. From the study, Sophie released another series of agonising screams.

“What’s really going on between you two?” Murphy asked once Potter was out of earshot and we were alone.

“He wants my help, but I said no.”

“Why won’t you help?”

“Because I don’t agree with what happened here tonight,” I explained.

“It’s done now, Kiera. We can’t change that,” Murphy said. “We might not be able to save Sophie, but with your help we might be able to save us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

Murphy looked hard at me. “Well there’s a killer amongst us. Who might that person try and kill next? You weren’t even meant to be a part of this tonight. But you are now.” Turning, he slowly limped away.

Before he had gone too far, I said, “Why did Potter come and drag me out of that restaurant if I wasn’t even meant to be part of what happened here tonight?”

Stopping dead in his tracks, Murphy looked back over his shoulder at me. “Potter changed his mind about you being here tonight as soon as I told him that you had a date. You’re the detective, Kiera Hudson – go figure that out.”

Murphy left me standing alone. From the shadows beneath the stairs, I watched him head back toward the open study door. Uri, Phebe, Ravenwood, and Mrs. Payne were gathered outside it. Sophie continued to scream and shriek from inside. I could hear the distant sound of her handcuffs clinking and rattling against the piping as she continued to fight to break free of her restraints.

Taking a deep breath and knowing that I couldn’t stand by and not do anything to help catch the person who had poisoned Sophie, I stepped out from the shadows. I made my toward the others gathered in the open doorway. They eyed each other nervously as Hunt explained what had really happened to Sophie.

“Was the door to your laboratory locked?” I asked Hunt, joining the group.

“No,” Hunt said with a shake of his head.

“Is there a key for the study door?” I asked no one in particular.

“There is only one and I have that,” Ravenwood said.

I held out my hand. “Give it to me.”

Ravenwood glanced at Murphy. “Give it to her,” he ordered.

Taking a brass key from the pocket of his suit jacket, Ravenwood handed it to me. It swung from a gold chain. I stepped forward, closed the door to the study, locked it, then placed the key about my neck.

“You can’t just lock Sophie in there on her own,” Potter said, a cigarette jutting from between his lips.

“She’s quite secure and therefore unable to hurt herself or one of us,” I said, unable to bring myself to even look at him. “And besides, who out of you should I trust to guard her? One of you tried to kill her after all.”

“Who put you in charge? It could have been you as much as any of us,” Mrs. Payne spoke up, her voice frail sounding.

“I was the last to arrive here tonight,” I said. “I came with Potter. He was with me the whole time. He is my alibi and so are all of you. On our arrival, he brought me straight to the dining room where I was in your presence the whole time. I couldn’t have, therefore, switched the bottle of Lot 12 for the bottle of poison. If I had, you would have all seen me. I cannot, therefore, be a suspect, but each and every one of you are.”

“So what now?” Uri asked.

“I think it best if we all head back to the dining room and see what I can
see
,” I said.

Without further dispute, the group returned to the dining room.

“Thank you for helping Sophie,” Potter said, taking me by the arm again.

“I’m not doing it to help Sophie,” I said, shaking his hand free.

“Thanks for helping me then,” he said.

“I’m not doing it for you either, Potter.” I told him. “I’m doing it for me.”

“For you?” he frowned.

“Despite how I feel about what happened here tonight and so many other things, I have to be true to myself,” I explained. “It’s not in my nature to stand aside and not give my help to someone who needs it – even if I don’t like that person very much right now.”

“That person is me, isn’t it? I have a knack of angering people,” he half-smiled. Then seeing the stern look on my face, his cocky smile faded and he quickly added, “So how are we going to catch this killer?”

“Follow me,” I said, turning my back on him and walking away.  

Chapter Seventeen

Potter picked up two candles from a nearby table. He handed one of them to me.

“I don’t think candlelight is going to be adequate if we’re looking for clues, do you?” I said, crossing the hall to the light switch on the wall. “The party is over after all.” I pressed the switch with my finger expecting the chandelier hanging overhead to sparkle with light. Nothing happened. I hit the switch again. Nothing. Just the light from Potter’s flickering flame.

“Perhaps the bulb has blown?” he said, standing close.

“What – all two hundred of them?” I sighed. 

“Okay, smartarse,” Potter said right back. “Maybe the fuse has blown?”

“Where’s the fuse box?”

“This way,” he said, heading across the hall to the kitchen. I followed the trail of light from his candle. He pushed open the kitchen door and we stepped inside. I pressed the light switch on the wall, but the overhead lighting didn’t flicker on either. Rain lashed the windows as the wind picked up force outside in the grounds of Hallowed Manor. Side by side we crossed the kitchen. It was just as I remembered it to be. One long wooden table running down its centre, with enough chairs and room to feed a small army. The floor was made of stone and it felt cold against my bare feet. Cupboards lined the walls and there was a huge stove.

At the furthest end of the kitchen, Potter stopped. There was a wooden door that I remembered led out into the grounds. I gripped the handle and rattled it.

“We don’t need to go outside,” Potter said. “The fuse box is right here.”

“I just wanted to see if the door was locked,” I said.

He glanced at me. “Why?”

“Why not?” I shrugged, reaching up and pulling open the door of a tin box attached to the kitchen wall. The door made a creaking sound.

Potter stood behind me, the candle over my shoulder casting light into the fuse box. I brushed my fingers over the mass of tiny switches. “None of them have shut down… hang on…” I breathed. “Look at this.”

“Look at what? You’ve got your head in the way,” Potter groaned, brushing me aside.

“The wires to the lights have been cut,” I said.

Reaching in, Potter gripped the ends of the wires.

“Don’t do that…!” I tried to warn him, but it was too late.

The room lit up like lightning as a series of sparks shot from the wires and up Potter’s arm. “Fuck!” he roared, his dark eyes bulging, and leaping backwards.

“I told you not to touch them,” I said, trying to hide a very satisfied grin.
Right now Potter deserved some pain,
I thought. Then snatching the candle from him, I said, “Give me that before you get us both killed.” I shut the door to the fuse box.

“Who cut the wires?” Potter winced, flexing the fingers of his left hand as if trying to dispel the last of the electric shock.

“Whoever poisoned Sophie,” I said, walking away.

“Why?” Potter asked, coming after me.

“I don’t know, perhaps they didn’t want to be seen,” I said sarcastically. “Most killers walk about with a big neon sign flashing above their head saying ‘It was me! I did it!’” I wasn’t going to make any of this an easy ride for Potter.

“Okay, so are you going to be like
this
from now on?” he said, catching up with me at the kitchen door.

“Like what?” I glared at him through the candlelight.

“Like you hate me,” he said.

“I do hate you,” I said, turning and heading back into the hall.

“Why, what have I done?” he asked, following me and lighting a smoke.

“You bit a human and turned her into a freaking vampire,” I said, stropping across the vast hall to the foot of the stairs.

“Apart from that?” he asked.

I whirled around to face him with such speed that the flame nearly snuffed out. “And that isn’t bad enough?”

“I told you why I did it,” he said, the end of his cigarette glowing nearly as bright as the candle in the darkness.  

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” I huffed, turning away again and marching up the stairs.

“You’re just being jealous again,” he said, coming after me.

“You’re the one who’s jealous,” I said, heading to my right at the top of the stairs and into the narrow corridor I knew would lead into what was the forbidden wing.

It was so dark in the corridor that the gloom almost seemed to reach out and touch me. It felt suffocating. Even the flame from the candle and my ability to see into the darkness did little to penetrate the blackness. I hadn’t gone very far when I felt a hand close about my arm. I gasped out.

“Who says I’m jealous?” Potter said, pulling me toward him. The flame danced between us, casting him in shadow then light again.

I thought of what Murphy had told me. “You only came and dragged me out of that restaurant tonight because you couldn’t bear the thought of me on a date with…”

“Not only are you jealous, you’re deluded, too,” he spoke before I could finish.

“So what’s your excuse going to be the next time me and Nev go on a date?” I pushed back. “Are you going to storm in and tell me you’ve arranged an urgent fancy dress party you need me to go to…?”

“You can’t be serious about this Neville guy…”

“It’s
Neev
,” I hissed, pushing him away from me and heading into the darkness.

“Kiera!” Potter called after me.

Not stopping to look back I reached the foot of the wooden staircase I knew would lead me up into the secret hospital wing and Hunt’s laboratory.

“Watch your step,” I heard Potter say as he took my arm. “The staircase is ancient and…”

“I can manage,” I said, flicking his hand from my arm.

“I’m only trying to help.” His voice was softer somehow. The fight gone out of it. And that was Potter. Light and shade. On and off. One moment he was utterly impossible and the next endearing. I hated and loved him all at once. I always had. 

“I don’t need your help,” I said, climbing the rickety staircase. I reached out with my hand to steady myself as I worked my way up the spiralling staircase. My fingertips brushed the wall and I remembered how they had once been sticky to touch, covered with a mixture of queets and garlic. It had been Luke leading me up to the makeshift hospital back then.   

“What is that sticky stuff on the walls?” I’d asked him. “It stinks.”

“Oh, that,” he had said over his shoulder. “I’ve gotten used to it. I don’t even notice it now.”

“Lucky you,” I had muttered. ‘“But what is it?”

‘“It’s a mixture of garlic and queets, which is a herb only found in The Hollows. Lord Hunt discovered that when the two are mixed together it forms a powerful paste that sends vampires completely nuts. They hate the stuff – won’t come anywhere near it,” Luke had explained.

Remembering that conversation I’d had with Luke, I stopped halfway up the stairs. Potter knocked into me from behind.

“Why have you stopped?” he asked.

“Shhh,” I said. “I’m thinking.”

“About me?” He wasn’t joking.

“Shhh,” I hissed again, without looking back. Luke had told me it had been Hunt who had created the mixture of queets and garlic. Luke had also said that queets could only be found in The Hollows. But if what Murphy said was true, the Vampyrus in this
where
and
when
knew nothing of The Hollows. But one of the Vampyrus must know The Hollows existed and how to reach them. Otherwise, how then did this person get the queets to poison Sophie? Was that person Hunt? He knew that queets mixed with garlic was poisonous to vampires. But why would he want to kill Sophie? 

Slowly, I started to climb the stairs again.