Derek

Weighed down under a mountain of paperwork, Derek rubbed his tired eyes as he scanned the emails that just kept coming. Sarge had left the station earlier, telling Derek to wrap his head around what was involved in running the P.I.T. in Cork. When Derek had complained, saying that the job wasn’t his yet, Sarge had made a face and told Derek that hiding his head in the sand would get him nowhere. Then the bear landed a stack of files on Derek’s desk and told him he’d see him later.

A couple of hours later, Derek had worked his way through the stack, answered phone calls from all over the country, and answered all the emails Sarge had forwarded to him. He’d also sent Caitlyn home to get some rest—no sense in everyone being exhausted. He was starving, tired, and more than a little grumpy when Ever’s name popped up on his phone screen. His heart kicked against his chest as Derek pressed Answer, simply saying her name into the phone. Her words came in a rushed panic.

“Oh Derek, thank goodness. Erika’s in trouble. You have to help her.”

The sound of absolute terror in her voice made him sit up and pay attention. “Jesus, Ever, slow down. What’s happened to Erika? I sent her home to you after she dropped Ricky off to his. She should have been back ages ago, but what makes you think something’s wrong? How do you know she’s in trouble?”

There was a split second of silence before Ever said, “I have it on good authority she’s in trouble. Please, can you just trust me on this? It’s life or death. Derek, please find her… she’s family.”

And that was it, wasn’t it? Despite Derek’s own reservations about Erika Sands, she was a member of P.I.T. and therefore family.

“Stay by the phone,” Derek told Ever. “I’ll call back."

As soon as he disconnected the call, Derek dialled Ricky’s number. As the phone rang and rang, Derek muttered to himself, “C’mon mate, pick up, pick up.”

Derek ended the call before it went to voicemail and rang Erika’s number. He got the same response. After one more attempt to ring his partner, Derek glanced up as the door to the squad room creaked and Melanie popped her head in.

“You okay? You have a worried face.”

“Ever called,” he explained. “She said that something’s happened to Erika. I can’t get hold of her or Ricky.”

Melanie came in and rested a hip against Derek’s desk. “You and I both know that Ricky sleeps like the dead. He probably has some music blaring and has crashed. Donnie said he looked a little under the weather tonight. And Erika, I dunno. She disappears every now and then. Maybe she’s got a boyfriend we don’t know about.”

Derek considered her words, but there was a sense of dread in his veins from Ever’s call, and he felt he had to check on things himself. Grabbing his car keys off the desk, Derek rose as he spoke. “I’m just going to swing by Ricky’s and make sure he’s okay. If he were really sick, then maybe Erika stayed to make sure he was okay.”

Something ran through Melanie’s mind before she folded her arms across her chest. “I’m coming with you.”

Derek shook his head. “There’s no need. I’ll let myself in with my spare key and see what the story is. I’ll ring you if I have any news.”

The arms folded across her chest now sprang to her hips. “Derek Doyle, I am now a full-fledged member of this team, and the last time you went rogue the team had to come get your ass because some psycho kidnapped you. I might not be the best backup, but I’m all you got.”

Under normal circumstances, Derek would have applauded Melanie for standing up for herself and having his back. Now, he merely nodded and motioned for her to follow him. Derek jogged out to his BMW and hopped in while Melanie slipped into the passenger seat. Reversing out of his spot, Derek pulled quickly into traffic and the two of them took off for Ricky’s.

They travelled in silence for the most part as they drove down the link road and towards the Jack Lynch Tunnel. Derek veered the car to the left before taking the exit for Glanmire. Ricky’s house was a stone’s throw from the city centre. It kept him away from his family who lived out in the opposite direction.

“What makes Ever think Erika’s in trouble?” Melanie queried.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Derek simply said, “That I do not know. But we’ll check it out. Hopefully it will be nothing.”

“You… um, you…” Melanie stuttered, staring down at her feet as her mass of ruby curls covered her face. “You don’t think that the reason neither of them answered is because they are together, do you? As in together together?”

Derek shook his head, not wanting to upset the young woman but also wanting to be completely honest with her. “Ricky wouldn’t do that. I’m 110 percent sure of that. He’s not the kind of guy to cheat. Trust me on that one.”

Peering up between the strands of her hair, Melanie gave him a weak smile. “Is it ‘cause of his ex? The one he ran into at the party?”

“It’s not really my story to tell, but, yeah. One thing is for sure—Ricky would never, ever betray you in that way.”

They pulled up the drive to Ricky’s house, and Melanie jumped out of the car. Derek followed her, sticking the key into the door and pushing it open while knocking twice.

“Ricky, mate, are you in here? If you’re naked, cover your junk. I’ve got Melanie with me.”

The echo of silence greeted them as they walked around his house. Melanie put her hand on Derek’s elbow. “I get his scent everywhere but it’s old, like he was here but isn’t anymore. Do you get that as well?”

“Yeah, looks like Ricky and Erika never made it back here. Let’s just search for clues.”

They went their separate ways, Derek heading off towards Ricky’s bedroom while Melanie went into the front room. The bedding was cold and tossed haphazardly across the bed. The curtains were still closed, and clothes hung over the back of an old chair. A book lay open face down on the pillow, the spine cracked from being read so many times.

Melanie called to him, and Derek wandered down the hall to her. Standing in the doorway, he watched Melanie as she took in her surroundings, finally getting to see the man she might one day tie herself to.

Ricky had a bookcase full of photo frames and knickknacks. There were rows and rows of pictures of the team. She picked up one frame, a photo of her when she was still human. Melanie’s glasses had slipped down her nose, strands of hair falling free from the ponytail she’d wound her hair into. She’d been smiling, her face flushed with life and vitality.

“I never even realized he’d taken this. I look so happy. And alive.”

Derek released a breath. “Ricky liked to take pictures of us in the most candid of moments and scatter them around his home. He told me once that we were his family, and people display pictures of their family.”

As Melanie set the frame back onto the bookcase, she glanced over her shoulder at him. Despite having a queasy feeling in his stomach, Derek knew Ricky could take care of himself.

“Hey, want to see something funny? But you gotta kept this between us, right?”

“Girl Guide’s honour.”

Derek backed out of the room, narrowing his gaze at the burn marks on the couch and made his way to a door just off the kitchen. When he pushed it open, Melanie gasped.

“Oh my God, how many does he have? There’s got to be, like, a couple hundred Funko Pops. Look at all the Marvel ones! Why does he keep them hidden?”

Derek chuckled. “He thinks it messes with his bad-boy rep. If people knew he was really a comic book geek, then his cool levels would drop. Or so he says.”

Melanie let go of a burst of laughter that doubled her over. When she’d composed herself, Melanie rubbed her eyes. “I so needed that, Derek. I have the worst feeling in the pit of my stomach.”

“I think we need reinforcements on this one, Melanie. That bad feeling you got? I have it as well.”

Derek pulled out his phone from his jeans pocket and rang Donnie, who answered on the second ring.

“What’s up, Derek?”

“Donnie, have you heard from Ricky or Erika?”

“Nah, man. Not since they left us after his meeting with Katherine Smyth. What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” Derek stated, “but I think we need to head on back to where this all began. Katherine was staying at the Crown of Midnight, right?”

Derek heard papers being shuffled. “Yeah, it says it here in her file. She’s rented out the penthouse suite and some storage space in the basement.”

“Meet me at the hotel. I think something strange is going on.”

Through the phone, Derek could make out Donnie moving through the halls as he made to leave.

“Want me to call Cait? Get her to meet us there?”

Derek considered it for a moment, but Caitlyn had seemed tired. He’d let her get some rest, call her if things went sideways. He told Donnie as much and signed off without a goodbye, safe in the knowledge that the Donnie would be waiting on their arrival.

Melanie and Derek left Ricky’s house. Once back in the car, Melanie leaned back into the leather of the seat and closed her eyes. Derek studied her discreetly as he drove. From the tight pull of her lips and the muscle tick in her cheek, Derek could tell she was as worried as him. As the car meandered towards the hotel, Melanie tapped her foot against the floor impatiently, and Derek tried to lighten the mood a little.

“Did Ricky ever tell you how we first met?”

“No.”

Derek smiled. “I had been with P.I.T. for a while when Ricky was recruited. The team was still fairly new, but we were all much older than we looked. Sarge told us of this wiseass cop from the gang task force who’d racked up more undercover hours than any other cop, and he was barely twenty-three.”

Melanie opened her eyes and leaned forward, turning her head to look up at Derek. “I never knew he went undercover as a normal cop.”

“He made quite a name for himself. Proved himself,” Derek continued, “so we agreed to check him out. On the night we were supposed to meet Ricky, we got an emergency call. Me and Caitlyn were chasing down a rogue goblin who had mugged a teen on North Main Street. We were hauling ass down the street, chasing after the little freak who was as fast as lightning.

“This goblin slipped between and weaved around revellers, and every time we made to grab him, he managed to escape. We came to the crossing, about to hit South Main Street, when the goblin smacked into the wall beside the kebab shop. This homeless-looking dude had the goblin by the throat.

“When we stopped just shy of our target, the guy kneed the goblin square in the cojones and flung him at Caitlyn. With a grin the size of Texas, he held out his hand and winked. ‘Ricky Moore,’ he said. ‘Nice to meet ya’.’”

Melanie’s lips curved into a smile. “How did he know where you’d be?”

Steering the car past the Kent train station and veering off to the left and down along the river’s edge, Derek carried on. “Apparently,” Derek mused, the fond memory replaying in his mind, “Sarge had told him where we were and why we were late meeting him. But Ricky had smiled at Sarge, betting him a fiver that he’d catch the goblin first.”

Derek eased his car into the drop-off zone and pulled up the handbrake. “After introducing himself to me, Ricky’s next words were, ‘D, you should see your face, man. You look like you swallowed a wasp.’”

Shaking her head but smiling a little more, Melanie remarked, “That’s priceless, Derek. And so typical of him.”

Donnie was waiting for them outside the building. Derek bent down and removed the small Beretta Pico strapped to his ankle. Handing it to Melanie, he asked with all seriousness, “You know how to use one of these?”

Melanie swallowed hard, yet nodded. “Donnie’s been showing me. I’m not a crack shot, but I can try.”

“Hopefully you won’t need it. Let’s check out the penthouse.”

Flashing their badges to front of house, Derek was handed a swipe card to gain access to the penthouse suite. Using the card, Melanie, Donnie, and Derek travelled up the elevator, the door to the suite opening with a ping. Derek held up his hand and stepped forward.

“Ms. Smyth, Agent Doyle with the Paranormal Investigation Team. We would like a word.”

Derek caught no scent in this room, old or new, as if it had never been used. The lack of an open window gave the room a slight musty smell, which meant no one had been allowed in to clean the room, either. Why would someone rent out the expensive suite and never use it?

“Melanie, come here. Tell me what you make of this.”

The three of them ventured farther into the suite. Derek and Donnie stayed off to the side as Melanie walked around, her nose scrunched as she concentrated.

“This is a front,” Melanie replied, reaffirming Derek’s own thinking. “I don’t think Katherine has even slept here. Her bags are by the lift, the covers are rigid, probably dressed by a housekeeper. I can’t catch even the slightest smell of perfume or anything.” Melanie turned back to Derek and Donnie. “If Katherine Smyth hasn’t set foot in this place, then where has she been staying?”

“Very good. Exactly what I was thinking.” Derek surveyed the room once more and found nothing new that could attest to Katherine Smyth not being their unsub. He directed the thought towards Donnie, who nodded.

“Donnie, did you say that Smyth rented out the basement storage as well?”

“I did. On the hotel forms, she said she needed space for all her inventory and equipment. Do you think she’s holed up in the ground level?”

Derek bopped his head, heading for the lift. “No windows. One way in or out. Always getting a heads-up when someone might stumble upon me. I’d totally choose that kind of security. She’s in the basement—I know it.”

Getting back into the lift, the three of them returned to the reception area, and Derek queried as to the easiest way down to the basement. While they congregated in the reception area, Derek heard someone shout Donnie’s name.

Two men in business suits came up and asked was he really Donnie O’Carroll who’d played for Munster. They tried to snap some pics with Donnie, asked him why he left rugby, and was he really a policeman now. Donnie took it all in stride, but the vampire looked quite uneasy.

“Hey man, what happened to you? You just fell off the face of the earth.”

Donnie flashed his razor-sharp fangs and grinned. “I fucking died, mate. And it’s the best thing that happened to me.”

Derek almost laughed as the two fans paled and backed away, heading back to whatever staff party or wedding they’d stumbled from. Donnie simply shrugged in response to Derek’s raised eyebrow and Melanie’s mischievous grin.

“That happen a lot?” Derek asked.

“More than I bloody like.”

Derek grinned but motioned his head for them to follow him. They strode past the elevator, pushing through the door marked Emergency Exit Only, and descended a flight of stairs. Lights flickered as they continued down in a spiral, Derek pausing every so often to glance ahead and ensure there would be no surprises lurking in the shadows.

Listening intently, Derek could hear the drip, drip of a leaky pipe and smell the mould and rust from pipes not being cared for properly. Guess the hotel was only swanky where it could be seen. Everything else was left to rot.

Derek held up a fist and they all huddled down together. He looked Melanie dead in the eye. “No one would think less of you if you walked back up the stairs and waited for backup,” he whispered. “We understand that this is all new for you. Me and Donnie, we got this.”

He could see her consider her options, saw the moment she decided there was no going back, and his pride surged. He nodded, and in the same hushed tone, told them they would breach the door as soon as they were certain their intended targets were inside.

Donnie scurried over to the opposite side of the door and inhaled. “I pick up four different scents in there, Derek. I get Ricky’s and Erika’s. There’s also blood, but not a lot of it. The scents are distant. I don’t think they’re behind this door.”

“We wait for a sign. We try and take them alive. If anyone’s life is in danger, don’t play the hero. Nobody’s got anything to prove. We get our people out and we go home. Got it?”

Melanie swallowed hard but nodded, while Donnie grinned and said “Hooah.”

So, they pressed their bodies into the shadows and waited.

Freya kicked at the sand with her boots, unsure as to why she’d ended up on the shores of Valhalla this eve. After her conversation with Ever, Freya had felt uneasy, unable to stay still because of the look of hatred in her only child’s eyes. Had she been tough on Ever and the girls? Yes, but Freya had trained them like she had been trained before them. Tradition tended to be big in Asgard; progress was a foreign concept.

Keeping her distance from the remaining Valkyrie, Freya strode along the shoreline, the ends of her very Midgardian jeans soaking up the salty water as it lapped against her legs. It calmed her, the ocean and its endless possibilities. When she died, Freya wanted to remain in Valhalla, even if her spirit had to wander these shores alone. She would watch over the ones whom she cared for, even if they lacked the same emotion in return.

A bird’s cry rang through the air, slicing through the peacefulness of the eve. Freya braced herself and snapped her gaze toward the branches of a nearby tree. In the glint of the moon, she saw a raven perched there, his black eyes staring at Freya as she slid her dagger free.

She had recognised the bird instantly as Huginn, one of Odin’s two ravens. The bird cocked its head to the side as if regarding her, and Freya inched closer, hoping to get within striking distance of the bird. Its claws scraped against the branch as it shifted, and then she heard his voice in her mind.

“Shield maiden, it feels like an age.”

“Odin,” Freya spoke out loud. “I fear it would have been too much to have asked for you to stay buried wherever you chose to lie this time.”

“Oh Freya, if it had not been for my Frigg, then I would have chosen you to rule by myself. You would have been a far better choice, yet we cannot stop the heart from wanting what it wants.”

“Flattery is beneath you, Odin. We both got what we wanted out of our coupling. You got to be with a Valkyrie warrior, and I got a beautiful daughter.”

The raven cawed, shifting again slightly as its beady eyes continued to glare at her.

“And now I must kill her.”

“This time, it will be different.”

“No, it will not.”

Quick as lightning, Freya let the dagger fly out of her grasp and flung it towards the raven. The bird dodged her strike, flapping its midnight wings and lifting into the sky.

“I shall see you soon, shield maiden. Tell our daughter I shall visit her again soon.”

The bird gave one final screech before vanishing into the night sky. Freya cursed herself for letting emotion distract her, because while Huginn had paid her a visit—and Odin via the raven—no doubt Muginn had made his presence felt with Ever.

Freya retrieved her dagger from the sand and jogged towards the huts that housed the Valkyrie and their army. She had to warn them.

Odin was coming, and he was coming soon.