PROLOGUE

“No matter how good you are - you are evil in someone’s story”.

The chimes of the old grandfather clock in the hall had just finished marking eight at night when Milena Anderson stepped down from the step onto the pale stone gravel area that covered the entrance and driveway. It was a large town house in the North of The Saltpans zone, in the north-western region of Saint Sampson in the free-trade city of Rookhaven. While she was happy enough with the house, as it was a good area, popular with businesses and people that had money, it was not Richmond – those people spent more money on importing coffee from Caribbean than the people of Les Rovets or Landes spent on their food that kept the poor filth alive. Still, someone had to do the hard lifting and clean the place, and that certainly was not going to be her. 

          “Mistress” Milena immediately bowed her head and backed away, clasping the vaping tool behind her. Luckily enough it was the size of a long cigar, and its metal form easily slipped into her small leather pouch she had buckled to her belt as she stood there, trying to be motionless as one of the most powerful people she had ever met strolled past her without a glance in her direction, thankfully.

The Mistress was a slender woman, and while she appeared to be in the early forties, she had held on to her fashion choice that should have aged her, and it would have if she had not looked stunning, as her elegance and grace owned it. There was never a doubt that she had not made the right choice. Her head wear was a vital part of this woman’s outfit, a close fitting felt helmet pulled softly to the back making her seem even more youthful. The narrow off-the-face brim was finished with rows of stitching, tastefully adorned with a white silk rose and a smart ostrich fancy on the side was of two shades and finished with grosgrain ribbon. Her dress was made of a luxurious emerald fabric, silk by the way it moved and glimmered slightly in the evening light. The hem was hand embroidered to match the narrow cuffs which are also trimmed. A square neckline was particularly chic with the jewelled pin and bow. Like Melina, as the cold air hit her, she tightened her short sport jacquette, coney fur in a natural tan shade called Muskratine, which was dyed in a tan shade with brown markings to closely resemble the natural muskrat. 

          He quickly made his way around the Mistress to have the rear passenger door open before she got there, breaking the gaze, and freeing her. Stocky or not, he moved with the efficacy of a boxer. Her Mistress never looked behind her, and had the door closed before the others in the driveway area had even been aware someone had left the house, and the gathering inside. The car fired up without an issue, the four-door saloon aged well, it was one of the first generation of its model, and in its day would have been envied. Melina knew next to nothing about cars, nor did she care to increase the knowledge. What she did know, was that nice house or not, she wanted more and if – or when she was the head of the Coven, she would be in a better car than that. 

Ruben Garcia on the other hand cared for his cars, granted, he would like to be driving something with a bit more style than this, but considering he grew up with nothing, this was better than he could have hoped for. The vehicle boasted a rather elegant Art Deco styling, and it is an innately respectable machine that truly belonged on the driveway of a suburban villa. The original was the more substantial alternative to the saloon. As compared with its predecessors, it boasted all-hydraulic brakes, greater width, a longer wheelbase, and a more spacious cabin. The generous specification included a heater, twin sun visors and a clock. The wide seats are trimmed in leather and have latex foam moulded foundations, while thick pile carpets cover the floor. It had mainly appealed to those sedate types who could afford it and who quietly revealed in its ability to cruise along roads at a steady seventy miles per hour. He praised the flowing lines, and it had most things that an owner is likely to want to have wanted.    

          Granted, the car was dated, the latest model was taking the limelight with the adoption of the larger six-cylinder engine. But having recently gained a new host, and as the previous lifestyle had gained too much attention from the ever-present Inquisition, Ms de-Pinchmont was right to curb the lavish lifestyle for the time being, and if he kept in her favour, he stayed alive, dressed well – and maybe he could convince her to have his own plaything. 

          “Reuben” Her voice cut through the dark thoughts that were coursing through him, and he almost resentfully dropped the spell. As he adjusted the rear-view mirror, he caught another glance at Melina before he turned the car into the road and headed towards home. One day she would not have the protection she had no idea she had, then she would be his to use and dispose of. 

Melina’s skin crawled, a shiver went up her spine as they drove away. She had absently started to follow it out, finding herself on the sidewalk. She was trying to shake the feeling that she had been drawn towards the car, and a little sick rose into her throat when she realised, she had been drawn towards Reuben. It was then a thankful distraction arrived as another car pulled up, the front tire scrapped against the high curb. It was a coupe, older still, but it was sporter than the saloon that had just driven away. She was about to start swearing at the careless driver when the passenger door popped open. Peering inside she could barely see, the streetlight high on its metal post offered no assistance. Then a cigarette lighter flickered into life, the flame holding fast as the driver, still leaning down from when he opened the door from the inside looked out at her.

          “Milly!” Jacob Lane shouted with excitement as he recognised her. He scooped up his grey double-breasted suit jacket from the seat, giving her space to sit, and gestured to do so. He favoured, like most, the sharp, pointed collared shirt, its smart shape framed a tie well, so they were perfect for a formal look. Tonight, he was wearing an eight-button waistcoat with wide peak lapels, no tie and the top two buttons of his white shirt were undone, fully completing the casual look. His ex-military life often influenced the way in which his black hair was cut, sporting a short back and sides style with a side parting, slicked back, and immaculate style.

           “Jacob?” Milena questioned leaning further in, holding her steady by placing her hands on the car door frame. Jacob was around her age, and had thankfully stayed handsome as they had both grown in rank through the Brethren. 

 “Milena! Sit down would ya!” His green eyes sparkled and matched his mischievous grin. He had not shaved in a day or two, which was unlike him as he usually hated stubble. “Get in, I’ll take you for a spin” He nodded his head slightly, as if was listening to some unheard music, or if he was just agreeing with himself. 

         “You been drinking?” It was not really a question; she could smell it on him as she sat, her legs still outside and boots resting on the kerb. 

          “Only a couple of pints, but I’m okay” Leaning back against the seat and driver’s side door, slightly defensive. 

          “You sure?” Knowing full well that Jacob’s ‘couple of pints’ was a flexible number.

       “Yeah, it’s cool, don’t worry. Where do you want to go? I need to go get some smokes” He started to get a bit frustrated and angry with the questioning so attempted to change the subject.

         “Oh okay, who’s car is this any way?” Milena resigned herself, swinging her legs into the car and shutting the door, thankful to be sheltered from the cold breeze and the small heater the car had.  

          “What? Oh this… it’s a mate’s… so don’t worry, you don’t know him” As she shut the door, still a bit nervous. Then a blue flashing light appeared through the darkness, the police lights reflected off the wet buildings, glass and puddles that had formed from the rain. Jacob jerked his head back and forth, looking through the back window, the car mirrors and ahead of him. Before Melina could ask what was wrong, he slammed his foot down on the accelerator, and the car took off with a screech as the tyres slipped on the wet road

Officer Vince Canary was already annoyed, not that it took much to annoy him. He was going through a messy divorce; his wife had already left him for a doctor or something in Bailiff’s Cross where the main hospital of Rookhaven.

          “How did she even meet that guy?” Mumbling under his breath as he checked the street signs and headed up Mt Pleasant Street towards number fifty-seven where the noise complaint had come from, apparently there was a house crowded with students – something obviously close to the end of civilisation and the world, according to the caller. 

        “What?” Sergeant Adelynn Taylor questioned. Also annoyed, but more about Vince’s whining about the divorce. Unlike him, she was glad that they had got a call to answer. Granted it was some rich so-in-so’s kids party being too loud for the snobby neighbour. But at least he would have to stop his seemingly endless bitching.

          “Nuffin” Still mumbling, noting that they where are the far end of the street. 

         “Whatever” Said under her breath. It took a lot of energy to not snap at the fat bastard. No wonder his long-suffering wife left him, hell, she glad she was too. She had not told him that earlier that week she had passed the initial exam to join the Inquisitor ranks and could not wait to get called up into the program. They were now doing additional background checks, so he would find out sooner rather than later when they knocked on his door. She was tired of the mundane police work, the noise complaints like this one, and trivial criminals. She wanted more than anything to don the black uniform and hunt the serial killers, the unlicensed mages, the Vix - the real criminals. It helped that they also had their own righteousness level and did not have to answer to the pettiness of the politics within the force. A full Inquisitor was the embodiment of what justice should be.

         “Let’s light ‘em up, hopefully it’ll scare the rich pricks off” Vince reached up and flicked the electric switch, turning the blue lights attached to the roof on. He was stopped before he could touch the siren, much to his dismay.

          “Let not give them another noise complaint”.

         “Fair enough” He physically slumped with disappointment. Adelynn’s thoughts of him trying to get through a physical exam were soon interrupted, as ahead of them Officer Canary’s plan to scare a rich kid seemed to have paid off. A car just tore out of a parking spot and raced off away from them. Vince did not ask for approval this time; his thick fingers flicked the siren on then quickly shifted down a gear to give chase. 

*           *           *

          “Jacob, what the hell are you doing, stop the car!”

          “No way, I’m way over the limit, and anyway, the cars stolen”.

          “What! Damnit Jacob, let me out!”

          “Shut up, you’re doing my head in”.

          “Jacob, please, stop”.

         “Just shut up” Jacob turned towards her and raises his hand as if to strike her. It was not like he enjoyed hitting her, but sometimes, usually after had a few drinks to release the stress of the day, she would always find some way to wind him up. Melina shrunk away expecting the hit that did not come. He had the desired outcome, as she finally closed her mouth and just held on. Jacob turned to look back at the road and tried to shake the fogginess from the wine and gin he had been drinking all night. He would apologise later, just to keep the peace and she would accept it. Fucks sake, she knew he had a temper, so these snide remarks and whining was her own fault really.

         “Oh shit!” Jacob exclaimed, he struggled to hold the steering wheel, using the inner spokes to maintain his grip as he tried to turn a corner. The rain had made the road slippery enough, but then he had inadvertently gone into the old town where they had used brick and cobbles. So now the car was at speeding and slipping out of control.

*            *            *

They had been in pursuit for a few minutes, but the adrenaline made it seem longer. Sergeant Taylor had radioed in the plates to dispatch when she had managed to read them. They had entered the zone of Amarreurs Harbour, and the beauty of the richer suburbs meant street lighting was better, and not usually jacked to supply a household like in the poorer sections she had used to have as her beat. The car in front mounted the curb narrowly missing a parked car and D-Jax, its then used the pavement to continue before it swerved back onto the road as the driver attempted to take another corner.

           “Fuckin idiot is going to kill someone!” Vince swore as he slowed for the corner in the damp. It was the one thing he lived for, and back in his youth he had raced semi-professionally before the financial depression had taken its toll on the sport. Some of the stronger teams had recovered, whereas he had to find a job to support his family and had never managed to leave it and return to racing. Now pursuits like this were the closest he had to reliving the so-called glory days.

 

Ahead the car disappeared around another corner, the cobbled streets made the chase difficult, but Sergeant Taylor had confidence in her partner for this – nothing else mind you. But she knew he could handle a car pursuit, even when he veered off to the left while the car in front raced ahead of them.

           “Idiot” Vince grinned. “This will cut them off”.

           “You better not lose them”.

         “No chance, that’s the long way around the park. He’s got no way out but to come down to the corner up there” Vince used his right index finger to point ahead of him, never taking his grip fully off the steering wheel. 

*            *            *

Jacob misjudged the corner and could not recover from it; Melina knew it was going to happen at some point. All she had been hoping for, was for the car to stop. But she in the last few seconds, she also hoped that they would miss the light pole that seemed to be in their way. Her first wish was granted by sacrificing the last as the car came to a slamming stop as its front end bent around the pole. 

The driver door creaked open, pushed by a foot. Jacob dragged himself out, staggering as he stood. Holding his head as blood dripping down his face where he obviously hurt himself as he had struck his head the steering wheel. Looking around quickly as the blue lights and siren can be heard getting closer. Pausing in thought, he quickly leaned back into the car as if to check on his passenger and girlfriend, grabbed his jacket from the seat before taking off down the street, quickly disappearing into an alleyway.

Inside the car Milena lay slumped against the passenger’s window.