The Dark Detective: Venator (23 page)

“Has the Mother been permanently terminated?” he said, staring at the silent rock monster.

“I doubt it,” said Sophie, “but without her amulet, she won’t be able to cause trouble for quite a while.”

He turned his tired eyes to hers.

“You are amazing!” he said.

“Oh, Max, darling! For shame! Have you only just noticed?”

Endings

The newspapers would report it as a heart attack, the authorities thinking it best not to mention that Lily Bruce’s head was, at this point in time, still missing. Her death would be seen as a great loss to America in particular, and the Western World in general. It would be quite a while before the Americans trusted the British with another of their Presidents.

Max didn’t care. He just wanted to go home and sleep for a week.

But first he had a promise to keep. Sophie had earned the right to be released from her Blood Oath.

They stood, side by side, in the small summerhouse that was Temple Lodge in Kensington Gardens. Max was dirty and dishevelled, and even Sophie was less than her usually perfectly-dressed self.

“So this is it,” said Max.

“I suppose it is, Max, darling,” said Sophie. “I have to say, it really has been the most fun working with you. I’ve killed so many things, battled the Mother of All Evil, and it’s still only Thursday – it’s been marvellous!”

Max raised his eyebrows. “I’m glad the work agreed with you. Well, you kept your promise and you saved the world. Now I’ll keep my promise and release you from your Blood Oath.”

Suddenly a light of blinding brightness lit the room. The scent of Spring flowers was overpowering. Max blinked furiously, a hand raised to protect his watering eyes from the power of the sun that seemed to have blossomed in the small temple. Before him the most beautiful, unearthly creature that Max had ever seen floated gently to earth.

“Sophie Dinah Judas,” said the creature, with a voice that spoke of mountain springs and endless joy. “You have truly saved the world. For this you are offered a reward.”

The creature’s golden halo was as bright as liquid sunshine. Max’s eyes were watering like a hose with the effort of trying to peer through his fingers at the golden rays.

The glorious creature held out a tiny ball of light that pulsed with an iridescent pink and purple glow.

“Is that what I think it is?” whispered Sophie.

“Yes,” said the magnificent creature. “It is your soul. If you wish it, it will be returned to you.”

Sophie’s hand hovered over the pulsing ball of light.

“If I take it back,” she said. “I’ll be dead and I’ll go and live with you, won’t I?”

“Yes,” said the creature.

Sophie hesitated, and Max saw her hand tremble.

“Sophie! For God’s sake take it!” urged Max.

She turned her luminous eyes on him and shook her head slightly.

“If you don’t mind,” she said to the creature, “I’d rather go on being a good, bad demon. It’s been such fun.”

“Your choice has been made,” said the creature.

Slowly it rose through the air and faded from view.

“No, wait!” yelled Max. “She’s made a mistake!”

“Max, darling! I didn’t know you cared,” laughed Sophie gently.

“But, but that was an angel,” said Max. “
An angel
– and it offered you your soul.

“Actually,” said Sophie, with a half smile, “that wasn’t any old angel: that was my dear friend Gabriel. You know,
the
Angel Gabriel. We know each other from way back. And I think I now know why he chose me to help you – don’t ask, it’s a long story. But I know I’ve made the right choice.”

“How could you turn down the chance to get your soul back?” said Max, appalled and distressed.

“And if I did – who would look after you?” she said, her voice husky with emotion.

Then she smiled mischievously.

“Besides, it’s far more fun being bad on Earth, than good in Heaven.”

“Do you know what chance you’re missing?” whispered Max.

“Actually,” said Sophie. “I do.”

They stood in silence. Then Sophie took a step towards Max and held out her hand, her nail polish still a violent red, if somewhat chipped.

They shook hands, and Max shuddered slightly at her unnaturally cold touch.

“Goodbye, Max,” she whispered. “Give me a call when you want to go and kill something. Ciao!”

“Bye, Sophie. Take care of yourself. Don’t go eating any humans.”

“Oh, Max, darling, you’re such a joker!”

He watched her walk across the park, still turning heads, despite her filthy and torn clothes.

Instead of heading for home, Max went back to his office. He had a report to write.

He sat at his desk, head in hands, feeling the tiredness wash over him in waves. A sharp knock at the door roused him rudely from his reverie.

Superintendent Thatcher was standing at the door.

“May I come in, Detective?”

“Uh, yes, of course,” said Max, standing to attention. “Please, ma’am, have a seat.”

She sat stiffly and leaned back in the chair. Max had no idea what she was going to say. Well, he had an idea he was about to be chewed out for not reporting his findings from Buckingham Palace.

“I understand, Detective, that we all have a lot to thank you for.”

Max wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.

“Ma’am?”

“If I am reliably informed, and I believe that I am, you and your
charming
colleague, Miss Judas, have saved the world from a terrible fate today.”

Max gaped. In his two years working for the Demon Division, no other officer had ever indicated that they understood the job he did. And then he realised that the Superintendent had used Sophie’s real name.

The officer smiled slightly.

“Yes, I’m sure this surprises you, Detective, but there are one or two senior officers here who are aware of the vital role you play in law enforcement. I am just grateful, after watching your progress for many months, to have the opportunity to thank you for your efforts. I am fully aware just how demanding – and dangerous – your job has been. I shall make it my business to ensure that you are fully supported in your role. And rewarded, too: a timely promotion, I think, is due. From now on, you are Detective
Sergeant
Darke. Congratulations, Sergeant.”

She stood and held out her hand. Max shook it automatically, too stunned to do more than stutter a faint, “Thank you, ma’am.”

She smiled briefly and marched from the room.

Max stared at his half-written report, then shut down his computer. A Sergeant, he decided, could choose when to complete reports and when to give himself the afternoon off.

* * * *

Max saw the usual flicker of net curtain as his grandmother checked out who was knocking at her door. Better safe than sorry.

“Max, dear! You look exhausted. Bad day at the office?”

“You could say that, but it’s over now.”

She fussed and tutted over his ravaged, filthy clothes and whipped up a lamb stew, followed by cherry cake and a large mug of tea.

It felt good to just relax and let the strain of the past 72 hours drain away.

He was almost asleep in her armchair when a thought jerked him awake.

“By the way, Gran. I forgot to tell you – I’ve been promoted: now I’m a Detective Sergeant.” And one of the youngest in the Met.

“Yes, I know already, dear,” said his gran. “I’m so very proud of you.”

Max stared. How on earth could she have known – he’d only just found out himself!

“Gran – I’ve been meaning to ask you. Er... is there any witch blood in our family?”

She turned and looked at him in surprise.

“Max, dear! Are you asking me if I’m a witch?!”

“Er, yes, I suppose I am,” said Max, with an embarrassed smile. “Better safe than sorry.”

His grandmother’s tinkling laugh burst out and seemed unstoppable. Max’s smile broadened. He had to wait a long time for her reply.

THE END