The Dark Detective: Venator (14 page)

He glanced in the mirror so often that Max was beginning to wonder how he managed to keep the taxi from lurching into a misplaced letterbox or inconveniently parked car.

They arrived without incident and the taxi driver dropped them on a street parallel to their intended target. Max figured there would probably be scouts on the look-out. He didn’t want to make it too easy or obvious for the Brood, so arriving by taxi at the front door was definitely on the list of things marked ‘careless’.

Max studied the building from a distance. A faint olive aura surrounded the house but he couldn’t detect any Brood lookouts. Sloppy, he said to himself – either that or really, really sure of themselves.

Either way, it made him nervous.

He led Sophie along a narrow alleyway to the side of the building and down a set of steps to the servants’ entrance.

He muttered the usual incantation then used his mystical key to open the lock.

“I really must get myself one of those,” whispered Sophie, whose eyes glittered greedily every time she saw Max use the silver key.

Max replaced the key in a pocket deep inside his coat, buttoning it carefully. He didn’t know if Sophie’s light fingered habits had been curtailed by the Blood Oath she had signed – and he didn’t really want to find out right now.

“Okay. Let’s keep it tight. We need to make a sweep of the house and find the amulet if it’s here.”

“Oh yes,” said Sophie, “but I will be able to kill things as well, won’t I? I mean Brood demons, of course.”

“I’d say that’s a distinct possibility.”

They tiptoed through the kitchen. The beautiful marble surfaces were covered in a thin film of dust. Max suspected that the Brood must have been in residence for several days. He didn’t like to think what had happened to the house’s occupants, although he could guess.

They were just making their way up the stairs when a brisk ring of the doorbell made them both jump.

“Oh no!” breathed Max. “That is really lousy timing.”

A delivery man dressed in a bright yellow and red shirt was leaning in the portico, waiting for someone to answer the door. Max could see the man’s shadowy outline through the embossed glass.

He had to make a decision: save the man and, more importantly, the man’s soul, or carry on with the current strategy, picking off the Brood one by one. It wasn’t really a hard decision to make – Max’s job was to protect humans from the things that go bump in the night.

Already a Brood demon was opening the front door and beckoning the delivery man inside.

“Where d’you want it, mate?” said the delivery man. “I tried the back entrance but nobody answered. Here, you all right? I gotta say, guv, you ain’t looking too good. In fact... Oh my God!”

The man screamed. Max wasn’t sure if it was because he’d just realised that the person he’d been speaking to was definitely not human – or whether the demon had attacked.

“Sophie! Watch my back!” yelled Max as he charged forward.

He was almost too late – the demon had already got a grip on the man’s head and his thumbs were hovering to gouge through the man’s eyes, ready to suck out his soul. In a detached part of his brain, Max noted that each Brood demon had a slightly different style of killing.

Max’s shout distracted the demon long enough to save the poor, unfortunate delivery man from eternal damnation and a couple of squished eyeballs – and gave Max the chance to shoot the Brood foot soldier between its stolen shoulder blades with a well aimed blast of Holy water.

The delivery man seemed to have frozen in horror. Max took him by the shoulders and shook him hard. The man stared at him in terror.

“Run!” hissed Max.

As the delivery man staggered back out of the door, Max turned his attention – and Holy water pistol – on the demon again. But the Brood was shrieking and had already begun to sizzle, like pork chops on a barbeque.

Brood demons were erupting from every room. A few had fresh human skins but the rest were in various stages of decomposition, and the stench made Max gag.

He glimpsed Sophie out of the corner of his eye – she seemed to be buried under a mountain of Brood but clearly she’d kept her head because several staggered back, caught by the deadly aim of her Holy water pistol. But there were too many of them and the fight could only end one way. Max picked off one Brood with his crossbow, and emptied his water pistol at another clutch of Brood racing towards him. Max had decided many years ago that he wouldn’t be captured alive by a demon. He always kept one silver letter opener stashed away for such an emergency and today, it seemed, was the day.

Max’s last thought was what his gran would say when she knew how he’d died.

As his mind turned to his grandmother, Max’s coat began to glow with mystical energy and the Brood were thrown back, as a pulsating mass of blue-white light surrounded Max like a force field.

“It’s the Eye!” yelled a demon who still had a larynx. “The burning Eye of Horus! The coat is bewitched!” and then he screamed as his eyeballs were scorched in his stolen skin.

Stunned with the turn of events, the reprieve still gave Max just enough time to reload his water pistol and start to fight back. He forced his way through a mass of flailing, blinded Brood towards where he had last seen Sophie – he hoped he wasn’t too late.

She arose, shaking free of the Brood, and rising like Venus from the waves, her eyes blazing with fierce joy. She was terrible and magnificent. All suggestion of the little woman who complained about having to walk anywhere or do anything that might break a fingernail was gone. Her demon nature radiated menace as she shredded the blinded Brood one by one.

Max felt grateful that she was on his side.

He took pity on the few Brood who had escaped her wrath, and vaporised them with his Holy water pistol before she could use the silver letter opener on them, body part by body part.

By the time the screaming stopped, a cloud of acrid smoke hung over the room. The fine Arabian carpet was badly burnt and covered in green slime from annihilated Brood.

Sophie turned to face him. She was panting slightly and her fangs were prominent. Her usually immaculate hair was dishevelled and Max could see a hint of horn beginning to grow back.

Gradually she regained her composure. She rubbed a finger over the singed spots on her red dress, looking irritated.

“Are you okay, Sophie?” said Max.

“Why, Max, darling!” she said looking up and throwing him a stunning smile. “How sweet of you to ask. I’m quite well, thank you!”

Her normal poise and demeanour had survived the Brood attack in one piece. Her dress, on the other hand, had not. Max could tell that this bothered her more than nearly being dismembered and returned Down Under in a blaze of Hell fire.

“Different strokes for different folks,” he told himself.

“That was quite a work out,” said Sophie, thoughtfully.

Max nodded. He didn’t like to admit that the effort had left him feeling drained and shaky. He badly wanted to sleep but there was work to do.

“We need to search the house,” he said. “The Brood must have left some trace of what they’ve got planned. Look for mystical objects: doppelganger books, rings, amulets, Dark water – anything that will tell us what they were up to.”

Max searched the servants’ quarters first, his police training making him methodical. It was clear to him that nobody human had been in those rooms for several days. He suspected that their occupants had been the first Brood sacrifice – or meal – depending on your point of view.

Unlike most demons, the Brood didn’t eat food: they got their sustenance entirely from human souls. A clean, healthy soul could be used to spawn four or five new Brood. Even a well-worn, grubby human soul could be used to breed at least one new Brood: it was the main reason they were so dangerous.

The ground floors showed signs of Brood occupation. Max guessed that up to 15 humans had lost their lives – and their souls – in this benighted building. He felt sick and weary to the bone, but this was his job. Well, it had been more than a job for two years – it had since become an obsession: his mission. It was also the reason that he barely had a life outside work. How could he, when he knew what lurked in the darkest corners of even the smartest streets?

Sophie was taking her time searching the upper rooms and Max grew impatient. His feet sank into thick carpet as his heavy tread carried him up the stairs.

“Sophie? Have you found anything?” he called.

“Over here, Max, darling,” she chirruped.

Max guessed it must be something evil – she sounded happy.

Sophie emerged from the master bedroom. She was stunningly attired in a turquoise silk and chiffon dress with matching shoes and clutch bag. Her hair was, once again, immaculate. Good grief! She’d even taken the time to have a shower!

Max felt grubby in comparison. But he was also annoyed that she hadn’t finished searching her section of the house. He knew there was no point getting tetchy with a Level Two demon about police methodology: she just wouldn’t understand. Besides – she’d been a valuable ally in the destruction of the Brood.

“Suits you,” he muttered.

“Thank you, Max, darling. You’re so sweet! Oh, and by the way – I found this.”

She held up a pendant of black onyx with a hole at the centre. The chain had large links of heavy gold. It looked ancient.

“It’s an amulet,” she said unnecessarily. “It’s definitely mystical. It hums.”

“Pardon?” said Max.

“It sings to me,” she said. “I feel its evil. It wants to go to the Mother.”

A dreamy expression crossed her face.

Max tore the amulet from her grasp. For a moment a look of sheer fury burned in her eyes.

“Oh, so sorry, Max, darling,” she said blinking. “I got rather carried away by it. It’s not entirely my fault – it is a mystical object, after all.”

“Yes, and a very dangerous one, I’m guessing,” said Max, wrapping it cautiously in an evidence bag and placing it carefully in a deep pocket.

It was worth noting, he decided, that even with having signed the PTB’s Blood Oath, Sophie was clearly still susceptible to powerful evil.

“I wonder if it’s the amulet Ralph mentioned. It would explain why the Brood were so keen to silence him.”

Sophie shrugged. She didn’t know and cared less. But it was clear she wanted the amulet. Her eyes narrowed, watching him. Creepy.

Max checked out the rest of the rooms but it seemed that there was nothing else of importance to find. He felt frustrated. They still didn’t know how, when, or if the Brood had planned to contact the Mother, and he wasn’t sure if there were any more Brood in town, he wasn’t even certain anymore if Lily Bruce was the one who would call the Mother or not. He wished they’d saved one of the Brood to question, even if the chances of it talking were slim to non-existent.

They walked back to Scotland Yard slowly. Max enjoyed the feeling of late afternoon sun on his face and the scent of jasmine and wisteria that wafted through the peaceful streets.

Sophie was preoccupied and uncharacteristically quiet. Max was happy to let his thoughts drift, the tiredness washing over him.

Back at the office, Max left Sophie to go through his department reference books to find out what power the amulet had.

He pulled some fresh clothes out of his locker and headed for the shower block, throwing his Brood-stained clothes in the bin. There was no way Daz was going to get
those
stains out. Being a Demon Division officer ought to come with a clothes allowance thought Max, not for the first time. And he was going to have to find a way to thank his gran for that coat. He still couldn’t quite believe that she’d imbued it with magical protection. They were definitely going to have to talk about that. Gran had been holding out on him.

Feeling refreshed, clean and marginally more alert, Max strolled back towards the office. He was surprised to hear Sophie’s laughter echoing down the corridor. He felt immediately tense. Who was she talking to?

Perched on the corner of a desk, PC Eric Baldwin was being subjected to the full force of Sophie’s charm. He looked dazed with joy at the chance to speak to such a beautiful woman with her shimmering eyes and luscious red locks.

“All right, Eric,” said Max cautiously. “What can we do for you?”

“What? Oh, nothing.”

He seemed annoyed that Max had interrupted.

“Just passing the time of day with the delightful Detective Constable Smith.”

“Oh, you sweet boy! Do call me Sophie,” she gushed.

Max got the feeling that Eric was never going to forget his encounter with Sophie. Few humans did. For some, it had been the last thing they ever knew. Not that Max had ever caught her disembowelling anyone. If he had, he’d have vaporised her before. But he’d heard the rumours.

“Eric?” he snapped, forcing the man to focus. “Any news about the President Elect’s visit?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s what I came to tell you. I remember now. Her flight’s been brought forward – she’s arriving at Heathrow at one pm tomorrow. The Superintendent’s going ballistic – all the planning has to be brought forward by 13 hours. She’s not happy. You two are on the Palace detail. God knows how you wangled that cushy number. All you’ll have to do is blend in and make sure the staff don’t eat the canapés. Mind you, I can’t imagine that you’d
ever
manage to blend in,” he said, smiling blissfully at Sophie. “Not unless it’s a Miss World competition.”

“Oh, you’re such a charmer,” trilled Sophie. “I can see a girl will have to watch her step around you. Ha ha ha!”

Max felt faintly nauseated by the look of dog-like devotion that was etched on Eric’s round, red face.

“Well, thanks for the info, Eric,” he said curtly. “We’d better get moving. Nice to see you.”

He ushered a dazed looking Eric from the office and closed the door firmly on the PC’s broad rump.

“Sophie! Did you have to do such a job on Eric? He’s not a bad guy.”

“Oh, Max, darling, don’t be jealous,” said Sophie coyly. “Besides, I really didn’t do anything.”

Max ground his teeth and raised his eyes to Heaven.