Scorched Heart (The Firebrand Series Book 4), Helen Harper [free ereaders .txt] 📗

I slept like the dead. And then But I missed you too x

I waited to see if he would message again but nothing appeared. Sighing, I put the phone face down and looked up as the waitress approached.

‘Good morning!’ she chirped, pad and pen in hand. Fortunately, she didn’t clock the crossbow by my side. ‘What would you like this morning?’

‘Coffee, orange juice, full English, and to speak to the manager,’ I said, with a bright smile of my own.

The waitress blinked. ‘Uh…’

‘I’m with the police,’ I explained. ‘I need to ask the manager a few questions as a matter of urgency.’ I cast a glance around the room. ‘Do you have CCTV here, by any chance?’

Her eyes widened a fraction, and her sunny demeanour slipped. ‘I don’t think so. Is there a problem? Has something been stolen from your room?’

My life, I thought irritably. ‘If I could just speak to the manager – or the owner,’ I said.

‘This place is owned by a brewery and the manager won’t be in until lunchtime.’

I sniffed and shook out my napkin. ‘Very well. I’ll make sure I’m around when she arrives.’

‘He.’

Whatever. ‘If you could let him know that I need to speak to him, that would be helpful.’

The waitress scratched her neck, her discomfort painfully visible. ‘Sure. I can do that.’

Laura, freshly showered and changed, ambled in and took the seat opposite me. The waitress looked at her warily, clearly wondering what fresh hell was now going to be forthcoming.

‘Can I please have a double espresso and scrambled eggs on toast?’ Laura asked. The waitress nodded and scribbled down the order before departing at high speed. Laura raised an eyebrow. ‘Something you said?’

‘This isn’t an anonymous hotel with hundreds of rooms. Someone must have seen whoever sneaked into my room. I’ll find out who is behind all this.’

I glared round the room at the other guests. As I’d suspected, they were all police officers, here for Patrick Lacey’s murder investigation. I recognised a couple of faces from the station but even if I hadn’t, their auras and body language screamed police. Their combined presence hadn’t stopped me from being murdered, however. And none of them displayed even the faintest trace of shock at my living, breathing appearance.

Laura nodded. ‘You have my every confidence. I give it twenty-four hours max before your killer is brought bang to rights.’ She grinned at me. ‘I bet your Lukas isn’t very happy about what’s happened.’

I looked down. ‘Mmmm. I haven’t told him,’ I admitted. ‘I’m a bit ashamed that I was overpowered so easily. The last thing I want is for Lukas to think that he has to protect me or look over my shoulder to make sure that I’m alright – especially when it’s obviously unnecessary.’

‘Either that,’ she murmured, ‘or you don’t feel that you completely trust the Lord of all vampires and you want to retain some independence.’

I looked at her and she smiled back serenely. I didn’t have time to deny what she’d said because the waitress returned with the coffee. Besides, there were other matters to discuss. ‘I’ll go to the station and get hold of DCI Boateng. I need a second set of files to replace the ones that were stolen.’

‘Will you tell him how the files were lost?’

I nodded. ‘I think so. It relates to Lacey’s murder so I’ll have to come clean about it, including my recent death. Whether he believes me or not is another matter.’

‘I’d like to be a fly on the wall for that one.’ Laura’s smile was tinged with worry. ‘I’ll wander over to the cottage and get those samples. I’ve only got my portable lab kit with me, but it shouldn’t take too long to confirm that you died here when you were a child. And you know that I’ll be happy to look at any of the evidence concerning Lacey if it will help.’

‘I owe you, Laura,’ I said quietly. ‘Big time.’

She dismissed my words with a wave of her hand. ‘My business is death as much as yours is. This is my calling.’

I sighed. Yeah. Death was my calling too. Unfortunately.

Harris Boateng looked as fresh as a daisy. By the time I arrived at the Barchapel police station, he’d already given the morning’s briefing and was poring over what appeared to be a stack of statements. Judging by the pile of paper in front of him, his officers had spoken to just about every resident in the village.

‘Good morning, Emma,’ he said, looking up. ‘You look well rested.’

Hmm. ‘I might say the same of you, sir,’ I said. I motioned towards the door. ‘Do you mind if I…?’

‘Go ahead.’

I closed the door and sat down opposite him. I unstrapped the crossbow and placed it on the desk between us. Boateng gazed at it but didn’t comment.

I drew in a deep breath. ‘I have a confession to make.’

‘You’re a supe who possesses the inability to die.’

My mouth dropped open.

Boateng shrugged. ‘When DSI Barnes told me you were coming to town, I didn’t just look up your professional record. There are a lot of rumours about you dying and coming back to life, although nothing has been confirmed and most people think it’s bullshit.’

‘You don’t?’

‘Actually,’ he said easily, ‘until about twenty seconds ago, I did think that.’

I stared at him, then realisation dawned. Boateng had outplayed me; he’d manipulated my reaction to his words in order to learn the truth before I had the chance to tell him myself. ‘Touché,’ I managed.

He grinned. ‘It’s not every day a Kent copper like me meets a supe, especially not an immortal supe. What’s it like?’

I grunted. ‘It’s not immortality. I still age like everyone else. And being a supe is not as much fun as you might think.’

‘I can believe that.’ He leaned forward. ‘So why did you come in here to tell me this?’

‘Because,’ I said baldly, ‘last night someone broke into my room at the Bird and Bush, waited for me to