| |
Her ancient Kingswood sedan coughed and spluttered into the parking lot, while Tessa attempted to soothe it with promises of an upcoming mechanic visit. Of course, this would have to be after her first official pay cheque had cleared.
When she had settled onto her sagging couch with a cold beer, she finally cracked the wax seal on her case file. She was confronted with images of a mutilated body, with sigils both burnt and cut into the flesh. Tessa fought the overwhelming urge to vomit, faint or just throw away the damned folder, but she forced herself to keep going. The body was barely even identifiable as male or female, the face and torso disfigured beyond recognition. Dirty tufts of hair stuck out here or there, but it was so clotted with blood the original colour could have been anything. Quickly turning over to the case notes, the wave of nausea hit again as she realised this poor mess of a man, apparently Mikal Myne, had been dumped in the gutter of an alley only a block away from her house.
Tessa resolved to make that little alley her first port of call, perhaps tomorrow, when the sun was well and truly up to wash away the spookiness. She flicked through the victim's history while taking another swig of her beer, ignoring her growling belly. Food was not a priority right now, and Tessa suspected that it would be hard to keep down in the face of these images.
With no recorded family, Mikal had been through the Agency testing systems and unfortunately had no skills other than necromancy, which had long been banned due to its lack of use for the greater good. Thus, he had been classified as a Restricted Innocent, and closely monitored to ensure he never used said skill.
According to the file, Mikal had been a good boy at least, and had a clear record as far as crime went in both the magickal and mundane worlds. It was unlikely that he had now done anything illegal enough to have warranted his death in the gutters of Bayton. Death may have been the norm here, but it seemed unlikely that it was related to any action on his part.
Necromancy was still taught about in Agency training and kept up in research, but it was deemed one of the Forbidden Crafts and practising the art could be punishable by death. This of course didn't stop everyone; it was mere months ago that the Agency had apprehended an unscrupulous factory owner who had put to work a literal force of zombies. The bodies had been secretly pilfered from a crematorium side business along with a few missing employees. Tessa had to admire the entrepreneurial skill of the owner.
Not that any of it helped him now. He was currently deceased and had his conscious and very sentient soul bound to his rotting body as punishment for about 20 years or so. Teaching him respect for the plight of the dead apparently. She had to hand it to the Agency; they certainly got creative with their sentencing. Death was not always the end when it came to magickal justice.
The death sentence was not handed down lightly. However, killing innocents was the best way to fast track such a sentence. Attacking an Agent was another way, although few were foolish enough to take that option.
The sigils didn't yield many hints. They were angular and aggressive, most done with a quick slash. Many were deep enough to show muscle and fascia beneath the skin. From what Tessa could recognise, a few were to increase power, a few were binding runes, nothing that really jumped out as a clear clue to intent of the crime. The only other thing of note in the photographs was that his right hand had been taken. Completely severed at the wrist joint.
Probably as some kind of trophy.
Tessa desperately hoped that this was some mundane murderer who liked to make their kills look like something magickal to waste everyone's time, but she would only know for sure once she went to the dump site. Seeing as she could only visit both there and Mikal's tiny apartment on the border of Bayton and Upton on the morrow, Tessa decided to give the sleuthing a break for now. The answers would be much safer to find in the sunlight, with other people round that weren't just out for shady reasons. Dark alleys were the least safe under the mantle of night.
Tessa grabbed another beer before unpacking her newest magickal supplies. She swigged away as she was making a few charms to sell. Little titbits for love, prosperity and confidence, all those small things people sought magick for. They were pretty, and Tessa actually enjoyed making them, despite the slight magickal drain. It was a nifty little supplemental money maker, using her Agency education to make various magickal items to sell at the night markets in the centre of Bayton.
The scrappy little market had set up in what had once been an industrial area, but it had long fallen into disuse after the economy slumped. The Bayton Central night market was a heady blend of magickal charm and ingredient sellers, food vendors, sex workers and the occasional poorly hidden drug deal. People of all kinds crushed in the dust together to buy the latest magickal fad or break a hex, while sating many more base needs. It was alive, and vibrant. The gathered people were peppered with buskers and performers, pickpockets and even the few urban fae, plying their own wares.
By the time Tessa arrived at her usual little stall she was almost salivating over the need to be part of this pulsing mass of humanity. It was so dirty and sleazy, while at the same time feeling more vivid than anything else in her life prior to now. The faces around her were in various stages of cleanliness, all with some kind of desperation etched into their lines. They came with what pittance they had made, looking for an outlet, a solution. Every now and then representatives from one of the old-world religions appeared to tout their particular mission, but most left rather rapidly. We were all lost causes for one reason or another.
The evening wore on slowly, and a few sales had come her way. Enough to tide her over until payday, or at least buy more beer. It was a necessity in her role, even if only to sleep. She was about to pack up her little stall when a familiar face elbowed their way through the crowd to her store.
'Ey Tessie! How’s your lil bits sellin' girl?' At well over six foot, Damien Niel was a man mountain, tall and heavily muscled. He came oozing an aura of a man not to be fucked with, which helped greatly when you were the leader of the local gang. Damien oversaw the whole area in the centre of Bayton, although it was a power he used rather than abused. Overall, the citizens of Bayton Central loved the man. He had a reputation for fairness but tempered with ruthless protection of his borders and laws. It was a necessity in a self-governing area. The Agency, police and government all refused to touch the majority of Bayton.
Tessa smiled, genuinely happy to see his lean, mohawked face. Despite having extensive tattoos, piercings and a partially shaved head, Damien had thick glasses and a handsome smile. His Chinese origin gave him dead straight hair and eyes that crinkled into his wide smile. He invariably donned a pair of ripped jeans rolled up at the cuffs and a black shirt. Over the top he wore a long black motorcycle jacket that seemed to be reinforced with something heavy. It made the jacket almost appear like armour. Tessa surmised that it probably was something exactly like that, as Damien never went out into the streets without it, no matter the weather.
'Hi Dame... pretty good, 'nuff to get me dinner tonight and even have some change,' Tessa greeted him happily. She easily fell into the local accent, despite her upbringing. There was something infectious about the lexicon of the inner Bayton region. Being with Damien also made it worse as she wanted to fit in.
'Aw gal, whenna you gonna let me buy ye that dinner?' Damien said, leaning idly against the nearest surface while he carefully watched the crowd. How one man could look so relaxed, while at the same time being as menacing as a wild beast was always a mystery to Tessa. She didn't let his sweet words fool her for a moment.
'You only want to get me dinner to get me into bed, and I am not falling for that!' Tessa shot back as she packed up, making a mental note to stock up on love and lust charms. They always sold well before Valentine's Day, to sad people with desperation in their eyes... or pants. Topically, Damien looked pained, dramatically staggering whilst clutching his heart.
'Ye wound me Tessie, it ain't like that at all. Don't make me get one'a 'em love spells on ye girl, ye is cold assa grave.' Tessa rolled her eyes sarcastically for the third time that day. At this point it was a habit, one she was determined to break. She kept telling herself that the truth of her hesitation was that she valued Damien too much as a friend to go there. That and now she had images of severed hands and bloody sigils running through her mind. Which reminded her...
'Hey Dame, you know much 'bout that killing over on Straw Lane two nights back? Gotta case on it, 'n have to investigate it tomorrow.' Damien paused slightly while lighting his cigarette, the only sign that he was upset.
'Aye. Fella got himself carved like a Sunday dinner, then dumped there. Them Agency fools took long enough to get on it. It bein 'appening again ‘n all.' He finished, taking a long drag of his cigarette. Tessa's heart caught in her chest, as her mouth dried. The world slowed as the realisation that this was not an isolated event flooded her body with adrenaline.
'Again? This isn't the first one?' she gasped, gratefully accepting a drag off Damien's offered cigarette to calm the storm of anxiety that had gathered in her stomach.
'Aye, your Agency ain't paid no attention when it one of our kind. 'E was all covered in 'em magick signs too, all carved up. But dem Agency don't care none. 'E ain't important enough. Bin two weeks now,' Damien seemed to be let down by that much to Tessa’s surprise. For a gang leader he was pretty caring about those living in his territory. It was one of the many reasons Tessa gave him so much respect, along with the fact that he was effectively her landlord. He owned the entire market after all.
Still, she didn't like where this conversion was going, and now she had two deaths to investigate. So much for the 'domestic murder disguised as a ritual' idea. At the very least it looked like it could be a serial killer situation, the kind who liked to make their kills as weird as possible. While lost in her thoughts Tessa had fallen quiet, tapping her index finger on her lower lip. Damien cleared his throat quietly, to give her a little hint to move on and making her jump.
'Oh yeah uhhh well I'm gonna need to get all the details off you of this first killing, and... wait, where is the body for that matter?' Tessa almost shouted, realising what was missing. A few people nearby stopped to listen into the conversation.
'Eh buried. Dem bodies start a hell of a stink iff'n we keep em. Hassa bury em,' Damien said, implying that spur of the moment burials was entirely a normal occurrence in the area. Tessa couldn't help but be slightly disappointed, despite what a two-week-old body might smell like. She didn't suppose Damien kept a morgue handy, and the Agency didn't see fit to keep much in the way of facilities in this area. She sighed, the beginnings of a tension headache starting to throb its way into a vicious reality.
'Does anyone remember how the body looked? Was it dumped or...' she stopped as a smirk began to form on Damien's face. Tessa lifted an eyebrow.
'Done got better. Done took pictures, figure if that Agency don' do nuffin mebbe I do some'n, mebbe bring em to ye. But itta cost ye Tessie girl.' Damien's smirk grew into a self-satisfied smile as he finished, knowing he had Tessa on the hook.
'OK what'll it cost me? Better not get too greedy though, I'm pretty broke this month. Still on intern wages until next week.'
'Naw Tessie, ain't lookin' for money. Imma think I finally get that dinner with ye. Even pay and all. Like a real gentleman type.'
Tessa fought the urge to give a sarcastic response. Damien did not deserve it, but she just felt that it was all a little cheesy at this point. She was definitely not a romantic and did not enjoy the attention. That is what she tried to tell herself, anyway. Her reticence was a broken record by now.
'OK, OK. How about lunch though? I have to look at where the latest one was dumped, then look at his apartment, so after that?' she said, her traitorous stomach giving a growl.
'Aye, reckon I come with ye on the morrow, see 'em dump site. Mebbe them folks round there talk to you more if I'm helpin' ye yeah? Then I take ye to see 'em other dump site and have 'em pictures.' Tessa reluctantly agreed with a single nod, looking away to finish tidying up the last of her items. Damien moved over to help her, but every time their hands touched the little sparks of excitement skittered up her arms. Her stomach churned nervously, making Tessa feel as though she wanted to vomit. This was no help at all.
'Thanks for all your help, I uh, I better get home, be ready for tomorrow. You know, get my beauty sleep and all.' She said, ignoring the way he looked at her, the way her body responded. Rather than move out of the way, Damien stepped closer, into her little alcove.
'Damn Tessie, why can you never just let this happen?' he said, running a remarkably gentle finger down her face.
'Maybe... I... I...' Tessa's voice faltered, stuck between giving in to her attraction and her own resolve. Now was not the time to get attached to any man, despite how delectable this or any other may be. Damien smiled gently, realising that Tessa had revealed a tiny chink in her usual icy armour. Nervously she smiled back, just a little, ever so shyly. Any time Damien was in the vicinity her resilience was at its lowest.
Damien pulled her closer, cradling her face as he kissed her, and Tessa returned in kind. The dirty inner-city market faded, its junkies, grifters and pick pockets dropping out of existence. Her butterflies returned, warming their toes on the heat bursting from her heart. The moment of radiance didn't last however, and all the filth and sleaze returned in sharp focus as Tessa remembered her resolutions, and her employment. She slowly backed up, trying to think of something to say. Long moments of awkward silence passed until Tessa simply turned away and tried to lose herself in the crowd. She needed to eat, then get home and into her nice, safe, complication free bed.
It looked like she would have a busy day tomorrow including dealing with everything that had happened today, so she wanted an early night.
All the better to forget with.
She thought wryly as she fled, pushing through the crowds of people, her bag flinging out behind her.