Chapter One
“I’m afraid I’m not here for a book, Mina.” Hayes nodded to Wilson, who held up a pair of handcuffs and slapped them gleefully over Morrie’s wrists. “We’re here to arrest James Moriarty on suspicion of murder.”
“What?”That’s… not possible. “Murder?”
Morrie glanced between the two officers. The corner of his mouth tugged into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve got handcuffs in my room lined with velvet. They’re so much moresensualthan those old things. I’ll wait here while you grab them, and then we—”
Sergeant Wilson shoved him toward the door. “James Moriarty, you do not have to say anything. But, it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court—”
“Oooh, is the judge going to bang her gavel and tell me I’ve been a naughty boy?” Morrie purred. “Kinky.”
“Don’t say anything,” I hissed at Morrie. Heathcliff, Quoth, and I barreled down the stairs and crowded into the hall. Heathcliff blocked the door while I threw my arms around Morrie and glared at Hayes (or the large, broad-shouldered blob I thought was Hayes. We hadn’t turned on any lamps downstairs, so now that Heathcliff blocked the only light, all I could make out were shadows). “You have to tell us what’s going on. We caught the garroter, so why—”
“This isn’t about the garrotings.” Hayes’ voice was grave. “Mr. Moriarty is our lead suspect in the death of Kate Danvers.”
“Who in the blazes is that?” Heathcliff’s voice bellowed across the room. Tension rolled off his body – a palpable rage simmering in the room. I knew if we didn’t get answers soon he’d go Full Metal Heathcliff and all that would be left of the inspectors would be bits of organs stuck to the ceiling.
“We don’t have to explain ourselves to you.” Wilson shoved Morrie toward the door. She tried to step around Heathcliff’s bulk but ended up pressing Morrie into a shelf. Stacks of books cascaded down on us. “As much as you love to meddle in murders,we’rethe detectives here, and we say Mr. Moriarty’s coming with us.”
Heathcliff’s shoulders tensed, and for a moment I seriously feared for all our lives. With a roar, he flung himself aside, giving Wilson a clear path. “He’s innocent, and we’ll fight this.”
Heathcliff’s words dripped with menace, and through my fear, I felt a jolt of hope. Ever since their fraught kiss, Heathcliff had distanced himself from Morrie. I knew Heathcliff felt something for Morrie, but his Heathcliff-ness meant he wouldn’t acknowledge or give into it. Instead, he raged and sulked and became a complete shit until he drove Morrie away so then he wouldn’t have to deal with it.
But right now, he was ready to fightforMorrie. He might not be able to articulate his feelings, but he was a slave to them. Heathcliff didn’t know a thing about control, about hiding things that were ugly or scary or uncomfortable. He justwas. And right now he was ready for a homicidal rampage on Morrie’s behalf, and thatsaidmore than all the sweet nothings he might’ve whispered in Morrie’s ear.
But it wasn’t enough. We weren’t atWuthering Heights. This was the real world. The police were taking Morrie away, and we couldn’t do a thing about it. A shiver ran down my spine.Why are they taking Morrie? Why are they so certain he killed this Kate woman?
I watched Morrie’s face as Wilson shoved him outside. Flaccid British sunlight poked through the converging storm clouds, illuminating his sharp, chiseled features and the haughty tilt of his chin. Morrie’s eyes sought mine, and he flashed me a reassuring grin that was all teeth and bravado.
A grin that I might have believed, if not for the fact it didn’t reach his eyes. Morrie’s ice-blue eyes were wide, darkened with shadows.
Resigned.
Not surprised.
“I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding, gorgeous,” Morrie called out as he scuffed the chipped stone steps with his brogues. “Don’t worry your pretty head about me.”
But that look in Morrie’s eyes said otherwise. Whoever this Kate Danvers was, he knew her, and he already knew she was dead.
Why doesn’t he look surprised?
My mind whirred with memories from the past couple of months. Morrie frowning at his phone, having his assets frozen, working on an algorithm to track Dracula’s movements and makingcertainI knew how to use it. I worried about him, of course, but between figuring out who garroted Danny Sledge, discovering the shop cat Grimalkin was really an ancient Greek nymph named Critheïsandmy grandmother, and hunting for a blood-crazed vampire intent on enslaving the world, I hadn’t had time to get to the bottom of his odd behavior, and now…
… now he’s gone and done something stupid.
Wilson pushed Morrie down the steps, tearing his gaze from mine. Heathcliff reached out to hold me back, but I slipped under his fingers and followed the detectives along Butcher Street to the town green, where a squad car waited, door open, ready to whisk Morrie away from me. Hayes placed a hand on Morrie’s neck and directed him into the backseat.
“I’m going with him.” I dashed around to the other door and slid inside before Wilson could stop me.
Hayes sighed. He was used to me by now. “Fine. We’ll see you at the station. If James has his mobile on him, I recommend he contact his lawyer.”
The officer behind the wheel nodded at Hayes and pulled away from the curb. He flicked on the radio, and loud violin music pumped through the speakers, so loud it shook the vehicle.
The seats reeked of sweat and urine, a fact I first noticed when the police arrested me on suspicion of murdering my ex-best friend, Ashley. It was hard to believe it was only a few months ago that I’d been sitting in this exact same position, wringing my hands and panicking about what would happen next. it felt like another time, and I was a different person now.
The new Mina – the one sitting across from her boyfriend, the Napoleon of Crime – this Mina wasn’t afraid. She waspissed as fuck.
“What the bloody hell is going on?” I yelled over the music, leaning over to punch Morrie in the arm. “Who’s Kate Danvers, and why do they think you killed her?”
