Angel: Private Eye Book One (11 page)

I was sitting on the edge of my bed. If you
could call it a bed. The mattress was so bowed it was like I was
sleeping in the crook of somebody’s elbow. It was lumpy, too, and
though I tried to settle down to sleep, at 8 o’clock in the morning
I’d spent the next half an hour pulling pens and scraps of paper
and old photo tubes out from under the sheets.

Though my room was unimaginably pokey, it
was strangely homey at the same time. And yet Mr Marvelous was
right – it had a stunning view. An impossible view, in fact.

It seemed to be able to look out over the
entire city, even though it was ostensibly only on the third
floor.

Mr Marvelous was out for the morning, and
he’d told me to pack up my things from my apartment, fix up my
room, and be ready to work on the murder case by 2 o’clock in the
afternoon.

It was already 12, and I was half furiously
tired and furiously hungry. Except I couldn’t dare eat. Eat or even
think of food, and another flash of that grey dead hand would snap
into my mind.

Though I didn’t have any clothes to change
in to, Mr Marvelous had found a trench coat for me.

I didn’t ask how, but as soon as I put the
massive thing on, it shrunk to fit me. It was to be my only
uniform, apparently. He didn’t care what I matched with it, as long
as I wore that thick caramel brown trench coat wherever I went.

On the top left lapel was a small pin with a
grinning Mr Marvelous. It was corny, but at least the trench coat
was warm and did a fantastic job of keeping back the chill.

A few minutes later I found myself
reluctantly leaving the shop. It took me a full five minutes to
convince myself to open the door and creep out onto the pavement
outside.

I just couldn’t calm my suspicious mind.
Paranoia had settled deep into my bones, and I expected attack from
every direction.

The only direction it came from, however,
was the wind. As soon as I closed Mr Marvelous’ shop door behind
me, a great gust of wind rocketed down the street and played around
my skirt, threatening to flatten it high over my head. Fortunately
the trench coat was thick enough and strong enough that the wind
couldn’t even tug its hem.

Flattening it down with a half-smile, I took
several mincing, scurrying steps forward.

I would look like an oversized mouse in an
oversized jacket. And that wouldn’t be the first time someone had
ever referred to me as a mouse. Sweet little innocent Elizabeth –
that was my name. Well, sweet, little, and innocent may have worked
when the world hadn’t known about the otherworlders, but now I was
one of them, it was about the worst combination a girl could
be.

Shrugging hard into my collar, I quickly
made my way across town.

I’d called my flat mate a few times, lying
to her and telling her I was totally fine and that nothing untoward
had happened last night.

I’d kinda forgotten to mention about the
fact I’d killed a vampire and found a dead body. That could come
later, if at all.

Sarah had been thrilled the day we’d found
out the results of my DNA test and it had been confirmed I was from
the otherworld. She thought it was so cool, so edgy. She had plenty
of vampire friends, and had apparently dated a werewolf in high
school. Even though she hadn’t been aware at the time. But I
doubted even Sarah would be completely okay with my nightly
escapades.

I just hoped she wasn’t home. It would be so
much easier to pack up my stuff and send her an email, giving her
the option of never seeing me again if she didn’t want to.

I finally reached my apartment. My sweet
little apartment set in my sweet little apartment block. Clean,
new, and smack bang in the human section of town.

The streets were wider, lined with old oaks,
and the trash was taken away every day. There were no vampires
roaring around on motorbikes, flipping you the bird, and there were
no werewolves thronging outside of the Turkish takeaway, ordering
all the kebabs.

Peaceful, quiet, safe. Oh so safe. I held
onto that word as if I could wrap my hands around it and keep it
close to my chest.

With a shaking hand I pulled my house keys
from my pocket, jammed them in the lock, and opened my door
quietly.

My apartment was small, but nicely
decorated. Sarah and I had both decided that it was a better idea
to invest in pretty furniture than getting a bigger place that
could skyrocket in rent.

As soon as the door swung open, I took a
happy breath that pushed through my chest and felt like a warm
hug.

In fact, it felt so much like a warm embrace
that I brought a hand up and patted my neck distractedly, reveling
in the pleasant sensation. A pleasant sensation that didn’t go away
and only grew more intense.

I stopped.

I turned.

Our living room was connected to the kitchen
and dining room in one large open plan space.

I turned to face the kitchen. And there, my
completely ecstatic flat mate was making tea for none other than
William Benson III.

I rocked back on my foot, gaze darting
towards the door, brain stupidly telling me that maybe he hadn’t
seen me.

Of course he’d seen me. I could feel his
ethereal touch around my neck. That was why I felt so pleasantly
warm.

“Oh my God, Lizzie, there you are. Where
have you been all night?” Sarah said as she sat down the tea and
ran over to me. She hugged me tight.

I tugged my head back from her voluminous
locks of black hair.

She gave me a pouty, commiserating look.
“William here told me everything,” as she said the name William,
her lips unmistakably curled into a flirtatious smile and she shot
the man a look over her shoulder.

William Benson leaned over and screwed the
cap off the bottle of milk and finished making his tea.

A few seconds later, when he brought his cup
up to his lips and appeared to drink in the warmth, he finally
returned his gaze to me.

There it was again – that ghostly touch.

All over my body.

I set my lips together in a thin frown and
took a step back. “What exactly is he doing in our house? Why did
you invite a vampire in?”

Sarah shot me a confused, amazed look.
“Because that’s William Benson III,” she said in a harsh whisper.
She leaned towards me. “Plus, he said he’s your new boss. He said
he helped you out last night. He said he was worried about you.
Speaking of which, Lizzie, where exactly have you been? Where did
you spend last night? You look like you slept on a park bench.”

“I slept in a storeroom,” I muttered before
I realized what I was saying.

“What?” she squeaked.

“Look, never mind. He can’t stay.” I pointed
a finger towards him. Some part of me was aware that I was being
bolshie towards not only the richest man in the city, but the most
powerful vampire, too. Little mouse Elizabeth Luck was not a
bolshie woman. But there was something about William Benson that
brought it out of me.

Benson smiled over the top of his cup.

As my gaze slashed towards it, I realized it
was mine. No, worse than that. It was my great-grandmother's. It
was bone china, and aside from my necklace, it was about the most
expensive thing I owned. “What’s he doing with that?” I hissed.

“Oh, your grandma’s cup? Sorry, it was the
only cup we had that wasn’t chipped. And come on, he’s the richest,
most eligible bachelor in the city.” Sarah reminded me with a
pointed look.

I dearly wanted to stride over to him,
snatch up my cup, and tell him to get the hell out of my house.

I wasn’t that stupid, though.

He set the cup down with a steady hand and
looked right at me.

Before I let his hands linger over my neck,
I took a pointed step behind Sarah. “He can’t stay here. He’s not
welcome.”

“Lizzie.” Sarah turned on me, surprise
turning to exasperation. “What’s gotten into you? And look, I know
you look like hell, but trust me, this is not a polite way to deal
with your new boss.”

“He is not my new boss,” I said loudly
enough that the neighbors would be able to hear. “I work for Mr
Marvelous.”

“Mr who?”

“Mr Marvelous. He has a private eye firm in
Partridge Street.”

“Partridge Street?” Sarah appeared to search
her memory. Then her cheeks became slack and hollow. “That’s deep
in the otherworld section of town. What do you mean you’ve got a
job for a guy like that?”

“He’s okay,” I said.

“Why not work for someone you can trust?”
Benson smiled at that. “I’m sure it won’t pay as well as I
can.”

Sarah snapped her attention back to him, her
smile becoming almost languid in its happiness. “Do you need any
sugar?” she asked Benson.

With that smile still curling his lips, he
shook his head gently. “I’ve never liked things too sweet.”

It was just a comment, and yet somehow it
was laced with so much innuendo it sounded like he was inviting you
back to his room.

Sarah actually giggled. Sarah was not the
kind of girl to giggle. The last time she chuckled like a girl,
she’d been six years old. She also bit her bottom lip as she turned
back to me. She made a face. “You don’t smell particularly good,”
she said in a low tone, “Have you been sick?”

I nodded. “I need to go and have a shower
and change my clothes. By the time I’m back,” I sliced my gaze back
to Benson, “You will be gone,” I said directly.

Wow. There I went again, giving orders to
William Benson.

Sarah sucked in a shocked gasp. “Oh my God,
I am so sorry. Look, she’s tired and she’s sick, and when she gets
sick, she gets ratty. Just let her get clean, and I’m sure she’ll
be pleasant when she comes out of the shower.”

I squeaked in indignation, turned hard on my
foot, and strode towards the bathroom.

Sarah followed me in and closed the door.
“What the hell was that? That’s William Benson III in there, don’t
you think you should show a little more respect? The guy’s offering
you a job.”

“I know who that is,” I said with an
exasperated half shriek as I reached over and plucked up my brush.
I tried to brush my hair, but I rapidly discovered it was like
trying to neaten out a bramble bush with an ear bud.

My hair was so soaked in muck and sweat, and
so knotty, I was starting to suspect I’d have to cut it all
off.

With a sigh, Sarah took the brush off me and
miraculously managed to detangle my locks with several precise
moves. “Seriously, Lizzie what the hell happened to you last night?
I was worried.”

My stomach knotted in true fear as I
wondered whether I should tell her…. I didn’t want to tell her for
two reasons. I didn’t want her to think I was any more pathetic
than I already was. And more than anything I didn’t want to bring
her further into this world. She may be absolutely thrilled by the
fact there was a powerful vampire sitting at our chipped wood
table, drinking from my grandmother’s finest teacup, but the
otherworld was dark. It may sparkle at night, it may sound exciting
and sexy, but its shadows were deadly.

Once Sarah had finished brushing my hair,
she accidentally brushed away the top of my collar. Then she hissed
as she saw the bite marks on my neck. “Oh my God, Lizzie, what
happened to you?”

I snatched a hand on my collar and tugged it
away from Sarah’s grasp. I swallowed hard and dropped my gaze to
the floor.

Sarah loomed before me. “Lizzie, what the
hell happened last night?” All of the good humor was gone from her
voice. It’d been replaced with tense, compassionate fear.

I ground my bottom lip through my teeth.
“Sarah, I have to move out,” I said.

“What?!”

“Look,” I didn’t dare tug my gaze up from
the chipped tiles lest I start crying, “I have to move out. It’s no
longer safe for me to stay here. I found a job, and I’m going to
move into the office.”

“Wait, Lizzie, back up. What the hell
happened?”

“I—” for half a second I thought I’d be
brave enough to tell her.

I couldn’t. The words dried up in my
throat.

“I just have to move out. It was never gonna
work, anyway. You’re human, and I’m from the otherworld.” In a
snap, I suddenly broke down. The stress and uncertainty of the
situation undermined my remaining resolve and saw me crumple to the
floor.

Instantly, Sarah grasped my shoulders and
pulled me into a hug. “Lizzie, it’s okay. Whatever’s happened, it’s
okay. We’ll take you to the police. It’s okay.”

“I don’t need to go to the police; I’ve
already been there.”

“Wait, what? You went to the police last
night? Lizzie, for the love of god, tell me what happened.”

“I just… just let me shower and dress, and
get that man the hell out of this house. Okay?” I said
pointedly.

The prospect of making Benson leave was the
only thing that could muster up my courage.

Though Sarah didn’t look particularly happy
about it, she pressed her lips together and nodded. “Okay, I’ll
grab you some clothes.” She turned on her foot, darted out of the
bathroom, and grabbed me some thick tights, a sensible skirt, and a
sensible top.

A few minutes later, I sunk under the
blessedly warm water of the shower and I began to scrub myself like
a monk trying to ritualistically clean himself of his sins.

I used half a bottle of soap and washed my
hair so thoroughly it practically turned to straw.

Once I was done, a full half hour had
passed. Plenty of time for Sarah to have gotten rid of Benson.

I dressed and walked out of the room. And
there he was. Still sitting exactly where I’d left him at the
kitchen table, still sipping politely from my grandmother’s finest
china tea cup.

Though I’d only broken down in the bathroom
half an hour before, another stab of anger rang through my mind at
his presence.