Paragon - Chapter 13: Chapter 13

I dropped the stack of new books on my table.
The elevator chimed and locked out the outside world behind me. I moved for the fridge and pulled out a fresh red vial as I scanned the horizon outside the glass. When I was finished I placed my new purchases on one of many bookshelves lining the walls of my living room.
I set the lights on dim and filled the room with low classical music. Humming the melody as I walked to the main room. I'd need to practice these pieces again, Elgar and Chopin were a wonder to play on rainy days... I cast the grand piano a look before deciding against it.
I chose a dense book and threw myself onto the wide L sofa.
Human Behaviour Psychology a Total Anthology
3,000 pages should be enough for this week... I had yet to study it intently but a certain mortal was giving me cause here. Inside these pages were the science behind reaction and emotion. The finer details exposed.
It wasn't until I started noticing the sky tint darker that I put the book down.
With no muscle cramps, hunger, tiredness or any other ailment it was only too easy to lose track of time. But the details in those pages were mind-blowing. The smallest of actions in mortals reflecting much bigger thoughts at play. Casting ones eyes to the left in speech often the side effect of lying–a rapid choice to deviate from fact and generate a fiction. Pupils dilating when something is attractive or intensely interesting. And then mirroring. The act of the body subconsciously–
My phone started ringing. I shook my new information away and rolled off the sofa onto the balls of my feet. I plucked the phone off the low table reading an unknown number.
"Hello?"
"Y–you know. W-when..." a female voice slurred into the phone. "Things jus... go to s-shit?"
It felt familiar but it couldn't possibly be... I cut off the music and focused intently.
"Who is this?"
I heard a hiccup and frowned. Then a door opening and louder music in the background.
"He fuck-ing caaaame back." She sang down the phone.
He came back. I sighed long and loud. Of course it was her. And now the god damn mortal that had made her work a nightmare was back in London and she was utterly wasted as a result. I glanced at the time. Only 7pm. Anything was possible with mortals.
"Quinn?"
"G-guilty." She giggled profusely over the music.
"Why are you drunk?" I demanded. I started pacing before my windows trying to keep the growl from my voice. "You told me you rarely drink." She had a competitive career and focus not–
"It's n-not about how many sh-ots you take–its the..." She paused, "–yeah no b-uddy keep walking!" She said louder clearly trying to drive away another mortal in her state.
I let another breath leave me in frustration before speaking again.
"Quinn. Where are you?"
"Narnia." She laughed.
I didn't. "I'm serious. You're not in the right mind for–"
"I'm in–the mind for get-ting fuuucked up." She cheered over the music and crowd where ever the hell she was.
"Listen to me, Quinn. Tell me where–" the call suddenly ended abruptly and I stared at the glass in disbelief. Really. Really?
I tried the number again and it went straight to voicemail. This had to be a joke. A seriously unfunny and entirely moronic joke. I flicked up the copy of her driver's number plate and stormed over to my desk.
Three screens glowed to life and I put in the various passwords. I entered my secure network and database that was more detailed than the police network. I entered the plate and it instantly identified the model and make. A company car. Even better.
I didn't need to dig much. I had his nationality and full address with a few clicks and the car's location in less time.
I yanked my coat off my chair and called Jamerson.
"Ms Fletcher–"
"I'm forwarding you a location I need to get to quickly."
His response was trained and swift. "I'll be outside your flat in ten minutes, ma'am."
"Thank you." I grit out, cut the call off and hit the elevator.
It cracked under the force and I stared at it a moment as I considered what I was getting myself into. Mortals get drunk all of the time. They lose control and find an escape. She was merely doing the same she didn't need my help. She just wished to drink away her despair that her old boss had returned to town. I wouldn't be in his memory but she still was...
I hesitated when the doors opened. This was crossing another line. Getting more involved with her life... again. The longer I let this go on the worse it would be.
But then I thought back to the drunken woman I had found stumbling down the street last week. The monster that had lured her into it and what would have happened if I hadn't ended him.
I strode into the lift and hit the underground floor.
Jamerson arrived sooner than he said which I was grateful for. He followed the route on the touchscreen that I had forwarded to whatever street her car was parked outside of. He sensed my urgency too so the ride was not long. When I finally spotted the silver Mercedes I jumped out into the dark rain. I flicked my collar up and approached quickly, scanning the surroundings and not finding the sort of places I was looking for.
Her driver was blowing on a coffee inside.
I rapped a knuckle on the window and he flinched, spilling some on his lap and glaring at me. He flipped me the finger that pretty much said, piss off.
I flashed him my badge wordlessly and his skin went pale.
He dropped the window with an apology already forming. I didn't wait, I seized his hand and took his mind with it.
"Quinn Adams. Where is she tonight?" I demanded, with more darkness in my voice than I realised.
His dazed eyes met mine. "Velocity Club." He muttered, entirely confused by his own words.
"You never saw me tonight." I commanded, releasing his palm and standing into the rain again. "Sorry about the coffee." I muttered, turning on my heel.
Jamerson waited as I climbed back in and told him the address. I checked my watch. Only 38 minutes had passed since the call. I could only hope Miss Adams hasn't been knocking back shots since then. But I wouldn't hold my breath...
* * * * *
I jumped out of the car before it had even come to a full stop.
Drinkers lingered and chatted loudly down the streets of Soho. A wretched place for the sober and an ideal one for the night life. Their blood hit me before the smell of any alcohol. I jumped a puddle and dodged a mortal as the door swung wide open.
A bouncer lay a hand before the door with a nod. I sighed deeply and cursed my eternal youth to every hell and back. I flashed him a driving license instead of police ID. Clubs didn't tend to react well to police attention. He scanned it and it flashed green. He nodded again opening the door.
I focused my senses the moment the hot air hit me.
The bars were long and at both sides of the packed room. Scents and different flavours surrounded me but I knew I would know the unmistakable scent of Quinn from across a room–no matter how many drunken buffoons I'd need to wade through. Arms and drinks hit me and I growled under the loud music. Every second I was in this festering shit hole was every second I reconsidered my actions.
An elite assassin for the most ancient beings in the world and I was spending my time here. Pushing through a bunch of mindless drunkards.
When I reached the other side of the room I finally caught her unique and powerful scent. It had moved many times between the floor space and the bar. I scanned every mortal and listened to each pulsing beat finding nothing. I followed it to the bathroom door and swept the inside even calling her name within the stalls.
Only drunken chatting and talk of males was present.
I resisted the urge to take the door off on the way out. But then they would just start screaming obnoxiously. I picked up what was left of her scent again and waded through more bodies back towards the other bar–jesus Quinn how much did you consume...
Another familiar scent stopped me in my tracks. I doubled back, ignoring the shoves of dancers around me and focusing on it. A face came to mind. A bald, pig of a man, one that deserved no title or job at all. Miss Adams' former boss.
My blood went colder as I followed the scent I had missed on the way in. It had masked it so well because it was so damn close to hers. I felt my teeth lengthen at the thought of what he had done coming here. I pushed my way more forcefully to the door and stopped outside the cool air. I took a deep breath and found the trail ended at the end of the road.
Fuck.
I jogged over to Jamerson a bit faster than a casual mortal would. I threw the door open and slid into the seat pulling out my work laptop from beneath the seat.
"Ms Fletcher?"
"I have someone I need to find again." I murmured, typing in passwords and drawing up the private security network. He said something ahead of me but I was focusing to intently. I drew up London's vast CCTV network. Honed in on the district, the street and then time.
The images became a blur as I quickly sped up the feed and checked every car pulling up alongside the club. Every taxi, person, plate–there.
A blacked out Bentley. The gross impression of the creature himself. Quinn tugged firmly in his meaty grasp and not even close to sober. But her fear was unmistakable even through the grainy pixels. I snapped the feed closed and entered the number plate into the bar.
"Forwarding a live GPS feed. Follow it quickly." I almost growled to Jamerson.
The car accelerated quickly from the street dodging cars and breaking laws. I'd have the speed cameras removed before nightfall anyway–even if it became a problem I couldn't care about that right now. I cared that the monster had returned and not only stormed back into the city I sent his mind away from... he went straight for her.
I wouldn't allow this a second time.
"ETA?" I demanded.
"Hard to calculate ma'am. The target is still in motion." Jamerson returned calmly as he dodged another car and ran a red.
I drummed my fingers against the window watching the city flash by. I wouldn't even drink the heathens blood. I didn't want any of it near me. I would take him far from her. Then I would break his bones and show them to him. I'd keep him alive for this.
We made another sharp turn and could move faster on a wider road. But Jamerson was careful to avoid the police cars that would occasionally force our speed to drop.
"Estimating fifteen minutes. The target is no longer moving."
But this only agitated me more... A stationary target could mean he is that much closer to doing whatever it is he has in that insipid mind.
"Go as fast as you can." I reiterated, emotionless.
But he was already pushing the limits as much as one could on a cold night in London's central streets. There would already be an army of data amounting on this car. We would need a new number plate again.
We finally arrived outside a street of tall glass towers. The car was no where to be seen but I already assumed it had similar underground parking. Jamerson nodded to the building nearest to us.
"The car is directly below that building. Do you need–"
"No thank you, Jamerson. Take the rest of the night for yourself. I will call Pearson if anything else."
He nodded in the mirror saying something else but I was already out of the car and seeing red. A calm lethal rage was already spreading through my body as I passed the main lobby doors to the demon's residence.