Chapter 2: Chapter Two

“We have to go to the police and tell them…” The words died in my mouth, as an alarming realisation hit me like a truck. Bam! “Tell them what? No one in their right mind would believe the multi-millionaire CEO of Farley Cosmetics had killed someone. If we went to the police … I’d finish the day in a straitjacket.” I looked at Mr. Brick Shithouse desperately. “You believe me, right?”

Our eyes locked, and he gazed at me steadily. He reached out and squeezed my shoulder and gave me a reassuring smile.

“I believe you.”

Relief washed over me, and some of the panic clawing at my chest receded.

I didn’t know whether I could trust him. I had no idea who the hell he was. But after what I’d just witnessed, he was offering a way to put more space between me and Catherine, and I was more than happy to take it.

 I took a deep breath and tried to think what our next move should be.

 “Maybe we should go back up there and check it out? See if we can find any evidence for the police.”

 “The police can’t help us, but I know someone who can. You need to come with me.”

“Where?” I asked as we climbed out of the lift on the ground floor.

He leaned closer and whispered in my ear. “I’ll explain everything once we’re out of the area, for now just pretend we’re leaving together.”

“Alright.” The knot in my chest loosened a little. Putting some distance between me and Catherine made it easier to breathe.

Walking calmly, we crossed the lot, and I almost smacked into my rescuer again as he came to a halt beside a massive, black SUV.

“That’s your car?” I asked, my voice coming out in a squeak.

The vehicle was more than a little intimidating, and perfectly matched its owner. Amidst the panic, I hadn’t fully taken in his appearance, but now I stared up at him, my eyes growing wider as I took in his massive frame. His black hair was clipped short and close to his head, and his dark eyes were intense. He was dressed in standard trousers and tight-fitting T-shirt of any nightclub bouncer. His tattoos stood out against his tanned skin, and his muscles bulged under the material of his shirt.

He walked around to the passenger side of the SUV, opened the door and waited for me to get into the car, but I didn’t. Not yet. I had to be sure of who this guy was first.

Please don’t be a psycho, please don’t be a psycho. I’d just escaped one killer; I didn’t want to be trapped with another.

“Okay, so you’re not at all shocked I just told you I saw Catherine kill someone? I’m not buying it. And where the hell you are planning on taking me?”

Suddenly my mind conjured up images of him driving me to a secluded area and killing me as easily as Catherine had killed Pierre Beaufort.

In my mind, I saw Catherine as she’d been in her room, aged and withered one moment, and then beautiful and young the next. Like she’d sucked the very life out of Pierre.

Mr. Brick Shithouse sighed and raked his hands through his hair. “Please, I’ll explain everything soon, but it’s not safe here.”

“So, let’s call the police,” I insisted, not moving an inch.

“I told you; they won’t be able to help.”

“And you will?”

He let out a frustrated breath. “Yes.”

I glared at him.

You can get as pissy as you like, Mister! I’m the one who had to witness a murder.

“Just get in the car, before someone sees us. Here, look, I’ll give you my phone if it makes you feel better.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to me. It was black, like his clothes, with no decoration. I pressed the power button, and the screen lit up, revealing the logo of a shield. Was that for some sports team or something?

“We’ll drive away from everything, and once I know we haven’t been followed, I’ll explain more.”

Should I believe him? Even with the phone locked, I could call the police easily. Surely if this guy was planning on killing me, he wouldn’t have just given me his phone? And he believed me about Catherine. I shuddered all over remembering the way she’d … I couldn’t quite believe I was even thinking this, but she’d sucked the life out of Pierre Beaufort.

I glanced back at the stately home and shuddered again. Catherine was still in there. Was she hiding Pierre’s body? Would she come looking for me once the evidence was hidden?

I still didn’t trust the guy, but right now, going with him seemed like a much safer option than waiting around for Catherine to find me.

I got into the passenger side, and a moment later, he got into the driver’s side.

“How can I believe anything you’re telling me when I don’t even know your name?”

The tension in his jaw slackened. “You can’t, but what’s your gut telling you?”

Damn he was good.

“It’s telling me to believe you.”

“There you go, and my name is Sol.”

 “What kind of name is Sol? Is that even a real name?”

“Of course it’s a real name. It was my grandfather’s.”

“Sorry, Sol. It’s a lovely name, really. It’s just with everything that’s happened, well, you know…”

I didn’t trust easily, not since my ex. To compensate, my brain automatically thought it was a good idea to operate my mouth without consulting me first. To smooth things over, I hastily added, “I’m Roxie.”

We lapsed into silence, and more than once, my hand twitched towards the phone in my lap. I glanced behind me to see the stately home growing smaller in the distance, and then Sol started driving down a dark, quiet, country lane.

“We’re away from Catherine, start explaining.”

Sol’s eyes widened, but he slowed the car. “What? Here?”

“I’m not going any further with you until I get some answers. Especially not down a random country road where you could rape and murder me.”

“I don’t make a habit of raping and murdering people.”

“That’s exactly what someone who rapes and murders people would say.”

Sol glared at me.

Alright, my comment might have been a little flippant, but it was still a legitimate concern.

“Okay, so maybe you’re not Rapey McMurderton…” 

Another stern look told me to stop with the smartass comments. I wasn’t intentionally trying to be a bitch, I just found it easier to put up walls when I was on edge. “I’d still like to know what the hell I’m getting into.”

“Catherine Farley isn’t the woman you think she is.”

“No shit, Captain Obvious.”

That one just slipped out, I swear!

“She’s dangerous. Me and the group I work for are trying to bring her down. That’s why I was at the gala.”

Further down the rabbit hole we go…

 “What I saw in her room was real, wasn’t it? I didn’t just hallucinate because I’m coming down with the flu?”

An image of Pierre Beaufort’s corpse flashed through my mind, and my chest tightened. No amount of jokes could erase what I’d seen back there.

“You mentioned earlier that you were getting sick. How long have you been feeling unwell for?”

“I don’t know … since my interview, I guess. What’s this got to do with Catherine being dangerous?”

Sol ignored my question. “You’ve just started working for Farley Cosmetics?”

“Well, technically, I start tomorrow. It’s my first job since I graduated, so Catherine invited me to the gala to get to know everyone,” I replied, still not understanding what he was getting at.

“Before that, did you know Catherine?”

“I met her once when I was fifteen, but after that I hadn’t seen her again until my interview.”

“How long have you lived in the city?”

“Five years, and that’s enough with the questions. Tell me what’s going on.” I let out a frustrated breath, not sure how any of this related to what I’d witnessed in Catherine’s room.

Sol glanced at me, and his expression softened. “I’ll explain more when we get somewhere safe. Right now, it’s important that you’re looked over by a doctor.”

A doctor? Surely it wasn’t that serious? A couple of painkillers and a good night’s sleep and I’d be fine.

“Why? I told you; I’m getting the flu is all.”

“In the middle of August?”

“Yeah, it’s summer flu.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is?” Sol scrutinized me closely.

“Yes, quit bugging me.”

Where the hell is he going with this?

“So, nothing unusual has happened recently? You don’t find it strange Catherine hired you so soon after graduating?”

“Seriously, stop with the questions already.”

“Think about what you saw tonight, Roxie, and think about the things that have happened to you in the last few months.”

My mind replayed the last six weeks, like a video tape in rewind. I remembered embarrassingly rumbly cover letters and fluffed interview responses. Then my excitement, and the night drinking with my best friend, Samantha, in celebration, when I’d gotten the position of marketing junior.

Memories of the handwritten letter Catherine had sent me flashed through my mind, accompanied by an image of all the freebies she’d sent to me before inviting me to the gala. Then there was how she’d acted in the stately home. All the Farley employees had followed Catherine’s every word or direction like sheep. It’d been inspiring then – now it was just unsettling.

“What is she?” I asked finally.

“Something not human. I’ll explain everything when we’re at HQ. I swear.”

I didn’t ask any more questions and did as Sol said. Despite his presence, the ball of fear in the pit of my stomach started to expand. I knew he wasn’t lying, and I knew he wasn’t going to hurt me, but that made everything else more worrying.

Once again, I remembered Pierre and how I simply thought he was Catherine’s lover, then he aged before my eyes, until he was nothing more than a lifeless husk.

We reached the motorway and got onto an intersection. We drove for just over an hour in complete silence, travelling further into the countryside, and away from the city. Leaving Stourley caused mixed emotions within me. Mainly, I was glad to be as far away from Catherine as possible. But it was also weird leaving my home behind. I’d lived in Stourley for five years, and before that, in Loams Hill, a little village no more than ten miles from the city. The few times I’d travelled this far away from where I’d grown up was when I went on holiday, or the occasional day trip to a theme park or beach.

A weird part of me worried I’d never see my home again.

By the time we got off the motorway, I was shaking so badly I thought I was going to have a panic attack or something. Without me even needing to say anything, Sol pulled over, and I leaned forward to rest my head on the dashboard.

I could feel the warm trickle of perspiration running down my back, and my forehead resting on my arms told me I was burning.

Glancing sideways at Sol, I asked “What’s happening to me?”

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He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I think it’s an after effect of seeing Catherine feed. It should wear off now you’re away from her.”

“She was feeding from him?” My skin suddenly felt itchy and unclean. But I couldn’t think about that. Not now. If I gave into my memories of what Catherine had done, I might go insane, so instead I asked, “You mentioned you work for a group. What do you do? Are you like the Secret Services or something?”

Sol laughed, and I caught a brief glimpse of that smile he’d flashed me earlier on in the night. For an instant, I almost forgot I’d just seen a non-human feeding.

“No, nothing so official.”

“But you know what you’re doing? How to stop Catherine?”

“Don’t worry, we’ve dealt with creatures like her before.”

 “You said something about her feeding and not being human. What is she?”

“All will be explained soon. We’re almost there, so why don’t we just get you checked over first.”

Hoping he was right, and it wouldn’t be too much longer – as I could feel my body getting weaker with every second – I nodded for Sol to restart the engine.

Finally, we pulled up outside a massive stately home, surrounded by acres of grounds.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I blurted out, causing Sol to shake his head. “You rescue me from one stately home just to bring me to another? What is this place?”

“This is H.Q,” Sol said simply, as though that explained everything, when in fact it explained nothing at all.

The building was huge. Way bigger than the stately home Catherine had rented for the gala, and probably closer to a castle than a manor house or something. I wasn’t overly familiar with British architecture, but from the little I did know, this building looked as though it was at least 500 years old, possibly more.

The whole building, and its spacious grounds, were surrounded by barbed wire topped concrete wall that towered up to eight feet. Stationed along the wall were small cabins, each lit up, and with one or two people inside.

I stared up at the closest cabin and was just able to make out a guy holding a crossbow.

What was this place?

Sol reached under his shirt and pulled out a pair of dog tags that were around his neck. Inserting them into a sensor, he typed a code into the security keypad and the heavy-duty gate swung open.

I trailed behind Sol as he led the way up a long, grassy slope towards the estate. When he easily strode over a huge puddle of mud, I stopped dead in the middle of the path.

He turned to me; his eyes wide. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

“There’s no way I’m stepping through that puddle in my new shoes. It’s okay for you, you’ve got giraffe legs. If I try my shoes will be ruined and they cost a fortune.”

Sol raised a dark eyebrow. “They’re just shoes. Buy new ones.”

“Just shoes? Do you have any idea how important these shoes are? They’re the last ones Valaria D’Amato designed.”

“Who?”

“You don’t know who Valaria D’Amato is? You’re hopeless. Do you men know nothing about fashion?”

This time Sol raised both his brows. I suppose someone whose wardrobe choices consisted of nothing but black wasn’t up on the latest Italian designers.

“Isn’t there another way around?”

“You could walk on the grass.”

“I’m wearing designer shoes!”

“Right, and grass would hurt your Valerie T’Matos?”

“It’s Valaria D’Am … Oh, ha-ha, you’re so funny Sol…”

“In answer to your original question, no, this is the only route to HQ. Could you take your shoes off for a few minutes?”

“Gross, no way.”

Sol huffed out a breath. “Fine, I guess there’s only one thing for it then.”

Without warning he grabbed me in a fireman’s carry and hoisted me over his shoulder, carrying me over the puddle.

When he set me down on my feet, I grinned at him. “Shoe lovers everywhere would be proud.”

As we approached the entranceway, I saw that there a woman with dark skin and beautifully coiled hair guarding the entranceway. The thing that made me most curious is the didn’t seem to have a weapon – at least I couldn’t see a crossbow like the people in the towers had had. Something about her told me she could more than defend herself though. I got the same feeling from Sol.

There was more to both of them than it seemed.

“Alright, Jen,” Sol said with such familiarity that it was clear they’d known each other for a long time.

Seeing Sol, Jen smiled, but then her gaze landed on me, and her eyes narrowed. “You know the rules, we’re not supposed to bring outsiders here, Bernard won’t be happy.”

“Trust me, me brining Roxie is will be the least of Bernard’s worries,” Sol said, pushing open the solid, oak door and leading the way inside.

“Are you sure I should be here?” I looked around the building we’d entered, trying to take everything in.

As it was so late at night, there weren’t many people around, but those I did spot were dressed either in a similar fashion to Sol, or in what looked like tactical body armour. I even spotted a few people carrying weapons.

What the hell had I gotten myself into? This seemed like some military operation, but surely if it was a simple case of shooting Catherine and making it look like a random murder, Sol wouldn’t have dragged me all the way out here. What were the army doing with non-humans anyway? Didn’t the government have a special … wait? Holy shit, had I just been brought to the base of a top-secret government organization?

“Yes, it’s the safest place for you. We can have you checked over by our team, and you can tell Bernard what you saw today.”

“Is Bernard your boss?”

“He’s our unit leader, and the guy you saw me with earlier.”

“Oh … I thought he was your dad or something.”

A smile briefly flashed across Sol’s lips. “Close enough.”

We made our way to the staircase, where a long, lithe woman with long copper hair was just reaching the bottom. Again, there was something uncanny about her, but I couldn’t quite place what.

She looked up and smiled when she saw Sol.

“Alright, Sarah,” he said, again in an easy, familiar tone.

“You’re back early.” Her eyes fell on me. “Trouble?”

“You could say so. Where’s The Bear?”

“In the lab with the bat. They’ve had another sample from the foxes.”

My head spun as I tried to keep up with their conversation – bears, bats, foxes?

I followed Sol as he led me up the stairs, all the while making a mental note of everything I saw. There was locked door after locked door, and the sound of soft snoring from within made me think these might be the sleeping quarters or something.

At the end of the corridor were three much larger doors, and it was through the one to the left that Sol led me. We stepped into a clinical white laboratory, where the man I’d seen Sol with earlier on in the night was with a woman in a lab coat.

The sight of her sent a chill down my spine. She was the most inexplainable person I’d seen yet – her skin was so white it was almost luminescent, and her eyes had a weird, purple sheen to them. Something about her reminded me of Catherine, even though their only uniting feature was that they both had dark hair. Something about her set my teeth on edge.

She looked up, a small half-smile forming on her lips, and holy shit! Did she have fangs?!

I took a step backwards, barely registering that she and the man were looking at a microscope slide that held a black tar-like substance.

Spotting Sol and I, the man I assumed was Bernard stepped forwards.

“Sol?” he asked, his tone tense and clipped.

“Can we speak with you in your office?”

“I think we’d best.” Bernard led us out of the laboratory, and I was glad to be away from that strange, pale-skinned woman. We followed Bernard to the central door, which opened into an expansive study. The wall behind the desk was lined with various books, and a map of the UK hung on the left wall. On the right wall was a small collection of portraits, and I quickly spotted Sol’s face among the pictures.

“Sit,” Bernard instructed once he was settled behind the large, oak desk.

When we did, my eyes met with his, and a brief look of recognition passed over Bernard’s face.

“This is Roxie-” Sol paused, unsure of my last name.

“Whitmore,” I supplied.

“She works for Farley Cosmetics. Earlier tonight she witnessed the target feeding.”

Bernard’s jaw tightened and a brief look of concern flashed across his eyes before he recovered his composure.

“Were you seen?” he asked me.

“I could see in, but she couldn’t see me. Besides, I think she was rather … distracted.”

“That’s not all. Roxie told me she’s been feeling unwell since she interviewed with the company a few weeks ago. I think we should have Lettie check her over.”

I could feel Bernard’s gaze burn as he scrutinized me, as though checking I wasn’t contaminated or something. I didn’t like it. I’d done nothing wrong, and here was some guy making me feel like I was the one who’d just murdered someone.

Finally, he said, “Have her run the test when we’re done here. Then when we know she’s not a danger, escort Miss Whitmore home and make arrangements for her safety until the target has been neutralised.”

Is that it? You’d have thought, given the circumstances, I’d be pleased to be done with this whole situation, but instead I was oddly disappointed. Talk about an anti-climax.

“Wait, what? You’re not going to explain what I saw back there?” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “You expect me to continue working for that … that … I don’t even know what to call her?”

“As long as the target is unaware you saw her feeding you should be safe. She’ll be neutralised shortly.”

“Safe? Screw safe. I want to stop her. She killed an innocent man. If you’re not going to let me go to the police, the least you can do is let me help ‘neutralise’ her. And if you’re going to kill someone, why not just say kill, instead of using fancy-schmancy words like ‘neutralise’?”

“Oh, you can fight, can you? What’s your ability?” Bernard eyed me sceptically. I guessed what he was thinking; it was the same thing everyone else thought when they first met me. How could a woman of barely five feet defend herself?

“You bet your ass I can. I’ve been taking self-defence classes for years.” I said, straightening my back in an attempt to make myself look taller.

Bernard rose to his feet. “Show me.”

Standing, I manoeuvred my body into a defensive stance, and waited for Bernard to approach. When he did, I struck out with a simple knee jab.

With lightning quick reflexes, Bernard grabbed my leg, up ended me, and laid me out on the floor. With my stomach pressed to the ground, he slammed his forearm into the back of my head, pinning me in place with his weight on top of me.

I wanted to scream out in agony, the guy weighed a tonne, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt me so easily.

Leaning in close, his breath hot on my neck, he said “Listen to me carefully, Princess. This is nothing personal, but you have no idea what you’re facing; what it’s capable of. Catherine Farley is a supernatural entity of the highest order. If I can take you down in a matter of seconds, she’s going to snap you in two like a twig.”

With that, Bernard climbed off me, stood and stalked out of the office.

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