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Finally impatience got the better of him; he threw all his weight into spinning her around to face him. Alison tensed her arm, her fist with the wire wrapped around it poised and ready. She used the force he put into spinning her to fuel her own strength, and as their eyes met, she slammed her fist as hard as she could into his throat. The points of the wire sinking deeply into his flesh, he didn’t have time to scream as she ripped her fist sideways with all the strength she could muster, tearing flesh as she went. His severed jugular spurted a wall of blood, covering her. She choked and gagged, jumping out of the way as he fell forward, his features now forever frozen in a state of surprise.
Tears fell freely as Alison made quick work of wrapping the second piece of wire around his neck and pulling it towards her, the wire cut into her hands, leaving deep lacerations in its wake, but it was worth it. The wire cut swiftly through his flesh, though she had to stamp on the bone to break it.
You had to completely sever the head to stop the Circle taking over the body, forcing it to live on even in death.
When finally it was done, she collapsed against the tiled wall of the shower, exhausted. She was shaking so badly she could barely keep her teeth from chattering. She’d actually done it. Relief washed through her.
Though it was too soon to celebrate; she still had the second brute to deal with and Maker knows how many more on the other side of that door, but the first hurdle was over. That sick bastard, the tomb who had violated and beaten her in more ways than she wanted to remember, was finally dead.
Those hands couldn’t hurt anyone any more.
Taking a deep breath, Alison pulled herself together; it wouldn’t take long for the second brute to come in for his turn. The scent of blood hung thickly in the air, and a ‘turned’ vampire had no morals or control. The High Lord was a Magi, a magical being who was also born vampire. This is why he was so powerful, because he had the ability to create an army of un-dead. Alison frowned. He gave vampires a bad name. Maker, the actual vampire community were strictly born only. They never ‘made’ vamps unless the circumstances were extreme. And though they were a dangerous, deadly bunch, they would never do what that bastard, the High Lord, had done.
Shaking herself, Alison turned on the shower, using the scalding hot but blessedly clean water to wash her face and hands. She pulled her jeans back on and tied the ragged bits of material that made up her T-shirt around her chest. It didn’t look good but at least it covered her. Mostly.
Leaving the water running, she quickly patted the dead tomb down; he had nothing on him but his knives. Not even a damn mobile phone.
She took the knives and left him where he’d landed. Sure, she could take his jacket, it would give her some much needed warmth; but she couldn’t stand the idea of anything of him touching her, not even a jacket. His scent would be all over it and even that seemed like hell to her.
Carefully, Alison stepped behind the door to the bathroom, bracing herself against the wall. Waiting for brute number two to make his entrance. It didn’t take long. These sick bastards were definitely without patience.
“Come on!” the black-haired tomb thundered from the other side of the door. “You’ve been in there forever. It’s my goddamn turn now.” She heard his hand land on the door handle.
“I’m damn well coming in. You better have washed her. I don’t want your stink all over her when it’s my turn.” His voice reverberated through the room as the door began to open…
“OI!” he shouted, opening the door fully, “I said…”
His sentence got cut short as he stepped into the bathroom, the door swinging closed behind him. “What the –”
Alison didn’t wait for him to finish, just leapt at him from behind, sending the tip of his companion’s knife straight into the back of his neck. The guy didn’t stand a chance; he fell forward, his body hitting the floor with a heavy crack. She’d killed him instantly, the second the knife had hit his spine. She repeated the process of cutting through his neck so his head was completely severed before scrambling back against the wall, choking down air as she did.
Adrenaline was still pulsing through her even as tears fell. She broke down sobbing in fear and terror. She was so stupidly lucky he hadn’t turned around. She hadn’t had the strength to fight him; she’d used up the very last of it lunging at him. Her body felt so weak she doubted she’d be able to stand.
And now she was a killer. She’d never taken a life before. And now she looked down on the two men that had taken their last breath because of her, she felt sick. Life was precious, something not to be wasted. And she’d taken it away from them.
The worst part of it was that she didn’t feel anything. There was no guilt, no regret, just nothing. These tombs had deserved to die, they had made her life a living hell and she had no doubt there were many females prior to her who had suffered the same abuse she had and perhaps had not come away from it alive.
Back in his ‘den’ as the others liked to call it, Dax was frantically performing search after search. The Internet was a wonderful thing these days; it gave unlimited access to the world’s secrets if you knew where to look. The sun was out and shining brightly, he’d been at this all night. It had been about five in the morning when he’d finally got home and the Djinn had gone straight to bed. He revelled in the warmth of the sun’s rays shining through his glass house. Though the entire building was built with bullet-proof reflective glass, some of the rays still seeped through and lit the entire house up. He was sat in his large leather chair at his desk, staring at his huge computer screen – which was, in truth, a floor-to-ceiling glass panel that had a graphics board hardwired into the glass, so not only could he see through it and watch the land behind but he could also bring images up on it. Not even the government had technology this advanced. Perks of being part of the council’s structure.
There was a loud digital ping as his phone went off next to him. He grabbed it, and hit ‘answer’ as he shoved it against his face.
“Speak,” he barked into the receiver.
“Dax, its Tam.” Her husky tones filled his ears.
“What have you got?”
“OK, I’ve been out to the beach where Alison was taken. You’re right, there was a boat that had been pulled ashore several weeks ago. There is still an imprint in the sand from the bottom of it, though it’s been so battered by the sea we can’t tell much from it.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” he snapped, probably a little more harshly than he should have. It wasn’t her fault Alison had been taken. And to Tamriel’s credit, she was up and working on the case at five in the morning, as soon as Dax had texted her. She was one of the hardest working, most driven females he’d ever come across.
“Cool it, Dax, don’t be an arsehole,” she snapped back at him. He heard her shush Leyth who was growling in the background. Mated males could be ridiculously protective and Leyth was no exception.
“Sorry. I’m just –”
“Yeah yeah, tell me something I don’t know,” she snorted, cutting him off. “Anyway,” she continued, “after I’d been down to the beach I got on the net and I’ve been rooting through the Navy’s database.”
“Ah, you really think the Navy is going to be involved?”
“Hell no, but they do sell off equipment that has been discontinued.”
“And?”
“And about six months ago they sold an ex-miniature submarine to an unknown bidder. They are nicknamed ‘midget submarines’ because they weigh less than 150 tonnes, can be manned by as little as two people and have no on-board accommodation.”
“So we think the Circle bought it?”
“Well, we’ve been looking into local harbour auctions too. They have sold over twenty boats in the last six months to an ‘unknown’ bidder too.”
“How do we know they are related?”
“Here is where it gets interesting. The submarine and the boats were all sold to an unknown bidder but they’re never untraceable, there are always accounts that the payments need to come from.”
“Not if they do it in cash.” She made a strange ‘ahh’ noise, making her sound like a teacher whose student had just got the right answer.
“True, however large payments like that don’t go unnoticed in bank accounts, the exact cash sum of each purchase was drawn out of the same bank account on the same day the purchase was made. From a bank not ten minutes away from the auction, the payment came from the account of one…” There was a shuffling noise as she shifted through what sounded like a load of paperwork; she’d obviously been researching this for hours.
“Jason Smith. Who is a high-flying investor for the fishing trade.”
“And he’s linked to the Circle how?”
“He’s not. But we went to question him an hour ago at his home in Whitstable. We’ve only just got back.”
“And…?”
“And we found him dead in his living room.”
“Crap. So no leads.”
“Dax, he’s been dead for a long while, we reckon about five months. He was well into the rotting stages when we got there, and there are no fingerprints at the scene but get this: the last thing he actually purchased and signed for himself was a disused oilrig off the coast of England but we haven’t found where exactly yet. It has been redundant for decades, apparently it was built on unreliable intelligence and when they found nothing, it was just left to rust. It’s little more than a pile of scrap that goes unnoticed these days. So why would he buy it?”
“Because someone forced him to.”
“That’s what we think. He is co-owner with a partner that is using a false name on the deeds, there’s a paper trail so vast that it’s nigh on impossible to trace it back to whoever it is. But we also know that this ‘partner’ is the co-owner of every single one of those boats and that submarine.”
“It’s got to be worth chasing up.”
“Definitely. There are some old dockyards in Chatham that Leyth and I are planning on investigating. That’s where the submarine was auctioned off. It might give us some useful leads, and if not we can see if anyone went with Mr Smith on the security camera footage. You want to come?”
“Count me in, I’ll get my stuff together, leave in ten?”
“Sure thing, we’re just going to go and brief Julian.”
Finally they had a lead that might work. Tamriel made a good private investigator; she and Carl had the right idea with their new firm. Dax was well educated and a frigging genius with technology and hacking but he would never have thought of a submarine, even now the idea seemed ridiculous. But hell, the Circle were everywhere, it made sense that they would take to the seas as well.
Dax hastily typed the name ‘Jason Smith’ into his computer’s search programme and then ran a separate search for redundant oilrigs on the coast of England and left his computer running. It would ping the results to his phone if it found anything anyway. Shoving his thick bomber jacket on and checking his knives and Glock were present, he stalked out of his house, clicking the alarm sensors on as he walked back to the mansion.
Tamriel and Leyth were already out front loading up Leyth’s beat-up old Range Rover and Julian was outside with them barking orders into his phone.
“I don’t give a crap how much it costs, Saph,” he was shouting as Dax came within hearing range, “we’re gonna need a boat, charge it to your pack credit card!”
He paused for a minute, presumably listening to her talking before adding, “Fine, just make sure it’s a subtle boat, nothing ‘spanky’, and make sure it’s fast. But big enough for all of us to get on.”
He spun on his heel and marched around the side of the car, hefting his huge muscular body into the passenger seat, muttering something about Sapphire wanting to buy a ‘damned pink boat’ and slammed the door.
“Dax!” Tam shouted as he approached them. “You ready?”
“Yup,” he grunted, sliding himself into the back seat of the car.
“Cool, let’s get moving,” Leyth growled, starting the engine as he slammed his door.
“We’ve got a meeting with the auctioneer first,” Tam explained, sliding into the back seat next to him. “They have given us permission to do a thorough search of the dockyard but we have to be subtle because it’s open to the public today.”
She bent down to pull something from one of the bags she had at her feet, shoving a plastic container onto his lap.
“Eat.”
“Not hungry,” he grumbled.
“Don’t care. Eat.” She grinned at him. Damn that female could be a pain in the arse, but he did as she asked anyway. It was just easier not to argue. Cracking the lid on the Tupperware container he found four thick beef sandwiches sat there neatly stacked up; protein and lots of it. He bit them down quickly, barely tasting the meat as it hit his tongue. His stomach reluctantly accepted the sustenance.
It took about an hour in total to get them down to Chatham’s Historic Dockyard. The drive was tedious. Dax found himself drifting in and out of sleep; a belly full of beef would do that to a wolf. Maybe Julian was right. He really should get some proper sleep soon.
As Leyth pulled the car up to the main entrance to the dockyard, Tamriel leaned out of her window and explained who she was, showing them her new private investigator’s licence and ID card. The guards let them straight through and directed them to the car park, explaining how to find the main office.
“Dax, you and Leyth go take a look around, see if you can find anything while Tamriel and I go talk to this auctioneer and look at the CCTV footage, cool?”
Everyone nodded in agreement as Leyth pulled the car into a parking bay. He helped his female out of the car, and landed one hell of a kiss on her lips, leaving her a little flushed as she walked away with Julian.
“Come on, man, where do you want to start?” Leyth nodded at Dax.
“Not sure, let’s find an area map.”
It didn’t take long for them to find one of those huge boards with the ‘you are HERE’ arrows on it. The dockyard they were in was huge. There was a museum and a large boat you could walk around. There were also rope-making warehouses and some privately owned warehouses too, as well as a small café and several car parks.
“OK, they hold the auctions in the museum most of the time. It would make sense to hold this one there too as they were selling off boats, the museum is near the water.” Dax glanced that way; it was indeed close to the water, yet not close enough. There was a replica of the ‘midget submarine’ on display, and little else.
“I need to look at their private rentals information, we need to know who else is renting space here.” Dax started walking towards the café.
“They’re not going to let you see those documents, that’s private for a reason!”
“They don’t need to let me.”
Leyth snorted as he waked over to the counter to order some coffee as Dax plonked his arse into one of the spindly plastic chairs. Damn thing felt like it was going to bend and break under his weight.
Tugging his laptop out of his bag, he set it on the table in front of him and turned it on. It scanned his fingerprint on the mouse pad and allowed him access. A message popped up notifying him that the search he’d started at home was still in progress. No surprise there!
Hitting the Wi-Fi on he scanned the area, quickly finding the dockyards network. It was of course password protected but hell, like that mattered. He clicked the little cursor onto his encryption software icon and set it into motion. The software in question was something he’d designed years ago; it was pretty basic, but that’s all it needed to be. It ran through the millions of number and letter password sequences in a matter of seconds, leaving no digital ‘fingerprint’ in its wake. As it briefly touched the network, it deleted all trace of itself as soon as it had made it. As the word ‘accepted’ finally flashed up on the screen, the programme made a note of the password and stored it in the depths of its hard drive for later use if ever needed. Now he was logged on to the network, he opened up another of his own software programmes; he’d called it ‘The Eraser’ because that’s exactly what it was.
As Dax quickly stalked his way through the dockyards database, ‘The Eraser’ deleted any record of his IP address, any evidence that someone had accessed the network or anything in it. Simple.
It took only minutes before he was rifling through the documents stored on the computers in the ‘property’ department. Finally he found a list of tenants, their names, contact details and a company description. Dax of course made a copy of the information, storing it on his computer and pinging it across to his home desktop as well.
There were several different companies. Mainly they had something to do with fishing or boats. There was quite a large events company that had rented two of the larger warehouse spaces and an office, though they checked out after his thorough background search.
“Anything?” Leyth grunted, pulling him out of his little technology bubble.
“Nah, everything checks out.”
“What now then?”
“Well, I guess we should take a look around.”
In minutes the two of them were up and walking away from the little café towards one of the warehouses. The large wooden and brick structure towered over them as they came to it. The two huge wooden doors looked big enough to cater to a giant. The interior of the warehouse was beautiful, heavy wooden floors and large windows. The air was tinted with the distinct scent of metalwork and rubber, which made sense, it was absolutely brimming with the latest in technology.
Dax let out an impressed whistle as he stalked through the doors into the warehouse.
“’Allo? Can I help you?” A beasty-looking bloke sauntered over; he was huge, easily matching Dax and Leyth for size, though he was most definitely human.
“We’re with Chambers private investigators and we’re doing a check on the dockyard, have you noticed anything unusual lately?”
“Unusual how?” A slightly smaller brunette man swaggered over to his huge companion.
“We’re looking into the sale of some boats at the auction a few weeks ago.”
“You mean that submarine that got sold?”
“Yeah, what can you tell us about it?”
“Well, it got sold didn’t it?” The big man looked down at his friend, then yelled over his shoulder, “OI, BOYS, anyone know anything about that submarine that got sold the other week?”
There was a collection of ‘nah’s’ in return.
“Sorry mate, can’t help you. We’re pretty busy preparing for our next job anyway so we’re gonna crack on if it’s all the same to you.”
“No worries.” Leyth nodded at him, turning to leave.
“Wait –” Another man with long wavy blond hair stepped from behind one of the huge shelves dominating the room. “It wasn’t docked here, they sold it but it was shipped out from somewhere else – Will?!”
