Early the next morning Chase finds herself out the front of a vandalised building. She approaches the front door and rings the bell for the third floor. She steps back from the door and leans on the brick wall waiting for the door to open. Not long after the ringing of the bell the oak door opens. A thin face appears through the crack.
“Jenkins,” Chase smiles pleasantly “how nice it is to see you again.”
The thin faced man narrows his eyes at her “Last time you almost got me into a lot of trouble Miss Shadows.”
“I did apologise about that didn’t I? Plus you got payed double so what are you complaining about?”
“I suppose you have a point,” he muses, opening the door to allow her in.
“Glad I do,” she smirks, slipping inside the building “Got anything for me?”
“Not much unfortunately,” Jenkins admits, climbing the first flight of stairs “care to come up?”
“Might as well,” Chase shrugs, following him up.
When they reach the third floor door Jenkins stops and looks a little embarrassed.
“You’ll have to excuse the mess, I don’t have much time to clean you realise.”
Chase shrugs again and follows him into the large room. She soon finds herself skirting paper and book stacks. She stops at a stack of books with symbols engraved on the covers “got anything on symbols that may be of use?”
“Symbols? Why are you interested in those?” comes a muffled reply.
“It’s a hobby of mine,” Chase answers continuing toward the muffled voice.
“And here I thought Necromancers were only interested in death,” Jenkins mutters, not noticing that she was now standing directly behind him.
“Most of us are,” she nods, causing Jenkins to jump “although since the failed Deathbringer there have been some changes in the community.”
Jenkins nods his head absentmindedly as he searches his paper laden desk for the information Chase had come for.
“You know in all the time I’ve known you I would have thought that you’d have at least tidied up your desk,” Chase comments, staring at the papers over his shoulder.
“I don’t tell you how to live your life, so don’t tell me how to live mine,” he grunts, sifting through the pages.
“I was only saying,” she sighs, sitting in the office chair.
He mutters an inaudible reply and continues digging through the pages. Minutes of digging later Jenkins lets out a cry of triumph and pulls a pair of stapled pages out from a dangerously built stack on the edge of his desk. Chase looks over his shoulder and tugs the pages from his hand.
“It’s not much,” she states skimming the pages.
“I scoured everything I have and when I asked my Sanctuary contacts they wouldn’t breathe a word to me.”
“Must have been fairly important then,” she murmurs, folding the papers “thanks for the info.”
When she’s halfway to the door, Chase is stopped by a tap on her shoulder.
"Aren’t you forgetting something Miss Shadows?”
Realisation lights up in her eyes and she retrieves his payment from her inner coat pocket. After giving him his payment the necromancer was quick to exit the building. Behind her she could hear Jenkins mutter something while pocketing the cash.
Half way back to her apartment an idea sparks in the back of Chase’s mind. One U-turn later she is on her way back to the Harman residence.
She sighs when she arrives at the house for the third time this week and finds it locked.
‘Stupid mortals,’ she sighs inwardly, retrieving her lock picking pins from her pocket.
After glancing down the empty street to ensure no one was around, she squats and shoves the pins in. After a few moments of jiggling a grin crosses her face when a click emanates from the lock. Chase pulls the pins out and looks the door over searching for any form of tampering before going inside. The gems sewn into the top of her arm warmers become considerably colder as she walks through the residence. The investigator stops just in front of where the body had been discovered, shivering as the gems’ temperature drop even lower in response to the recent death. Her hand slides into her pocket and she retrieves a small leather bound book, as well as a piece of chalk. Chase crouches and opens the book looking through her notes. As the chalk was about to make contact with the carpet she hears the front door and various other windows shatter around her. Within seconds she’s surrounded by what appeared to be a small army of Cleavers. Inwardly Chase begins to panic at the sudden appearance of the grey clad guards, outwardly she slips the book and chalk back into her jacket and she carefully stands straight. Her fists clench at her sides and she feels the shadows swarm in the space between her arms and jacket. Someone clears their throat and she turns to face the direction of the front door. Dark green-grey eyes meet bright blue ones, which do not look too impressed. She raises an eyebrow at him expecting him to start the conversation. She notices that his stance relaxes slightly and a wry smile spreads across his face.
“Looks like I went to all of this trouble for a wee mouse.”
“A mouse?”
“Indeed, we had been expecting…someone a bit more impressive but it seems that all you are is a thief.”
“A thief?” she asks, shock lining her tone “is that what you think of me?”
“What else am I to think miss…”
“Shadows, Chase Shadows,” she supplies “and who might you be?”
“Winter Ryse,” he introduces giving a mock bow “tell me Miss Shadows you wouldn’t happen to be a..”
“Necromancer?” she queries, relaxing her stance.
He gives a tight nod in response, around him all the Cleavers tense.
"Why yes I am," she grins as the shadows swarm out from her jacket and around her person.
The Cleavers spring into action just as they finish covering her.
After a few moments of black Chase steps out into a darkened alley. She hastily pats over her person, fearing momentarily that she had been cut by one of the scythes.
'Either they had orders to take me alive or my shadow walking has gotten faster,' she thinks heading to her waiting transport.
The necromancer throws her bag in the back seat and jumps into the driver’s seat. She drives down the street waving at Winter as she passes him.
When she arrives at her apartment Chase retrieves her bag and walks up the flight of stairs leading to her living space. Once inside she walks into her bedroom and shoves her bag into the closet before locking it. As she leaves the room her phone begins to vibrate in her pocket. Sighing she reaches into her pocket and pulls the small device out. She looks at the number before flipping the top and holding the phone to her ear.
"Hello, yes. I told you that I'd need three weeks, look it’s been less than a week since you hired me and it isn't easy when all you gave me was your brother’s name. I am working on it," she holds the phone away from her ear as her client shouts, as soon as he's finished she brings the device back to her ear "well if you don't like how I'm working hire someone else, after all you've only paid half so far. Not that I'll give that money back, yes three weeks. So far I've been able to confirm that he was stabbed. Yes that's all! Do you have any idea how hard it is to find information around here? There is the possibility that it was a random attack. I am going to look further into it, the longer you keep me here the longer it’s going to take. Good bye."
She shuts the phone and shoves it deep into her pocket. Chase moves to the kitchen area and turns on the electric kettle. As it boils she snatches a clean mug from the draining board and milk from the fridge. She places both items on the counter and leans against it while she waits for the kettle to boil. When it’s boiled she adds a tea bag and sugar to the mug before adding water and milk. As Chase sits down she pulls the information that she had collected so far out of her inside jacket pocket. She sips at her mug while scanning the pages.
"I'm glad I didn't pay him his usual fee," she mutters leaning back in her chair.
The young woman sighs and stands from the table leaving the mug and papers on the table. She wanders towards her room intent on getting the book she'd picked up from Harman's house. She stops when there's a knock at her front door. Frowning she slips the diary into a kitchen draw and walks over to it stopping less than a metre away.
"Who is it?"
"Police," came the muffled reply "open up please."
Her frown deepens as she opens the door. When she finds Winter on the other side of the portal Chase sighs and fixes her poker face in place.
"You’re not the police.”
“Not the mortal police no,” he corrects her “would you please come with us Miss Shadows?”
“I haven’t done anything illegal.”
“Well then you’ll have no problem coming with us,” he retorts smugly.
“I’d love to come with you but I’m in the middle of something important right now. Feel free to come back another time,” she smiles sweetly, closing the door in his face.
Winter sighs and pushes the door back open. The necromancer steps away from the door and frowns at the red head who was now standing in her apartment.
“Look you’re coming with me whether you like it or not,” he grunts staring down at her.
“Care to try and…”
She stops speaking when she sees something move behind the grey clad officer. A middle aged woman comes into view and smiles politely at her.
“Who’re you?” she demands.
“That is not important Miss Shadows,” she says serenely “What is important is that you go to sleep now.”
As she finishes her sentence Chase begins to feel drowsy and steps back.
‘Crap a sensitive,’ she thinks trying to shake her sudden sleepiness.
“As you can see Miss Shadows, it is pointless to resist,” Winter smirks stepping towards her.
Chase stumbles away from the advancing man trying to summon the shadows to her aid. Another wave of tiredness washes over her causing the necromancer to succumb to the blackness overtaking her mind.
Winter watches as the necromancer’s body crumples onto the carpet. He steps forward and hefts the girl’s body onto his shoulder before turning to leave.
"Aren’t you going to search the apartment?” his companion enquires.
He stops on the landing and turns to the cleaver standing to the left of the doorway.
“Search the apartment and bring anything that appears to be of value,” he instructs.
The uniformed man nods and marches into the apartment while he continues down the stairs. The sensitive is quick to follow him down, happy to leave the cleaver to do as he was told.
“How long will she be out for?” Winter asks as the woman walks in step with him.
“A few hours at least,” she answers, opening the door to the van.
“Good, that will give us time to examine everything and prepare the interview room.”
“Do you really think that she is linked to Grudge?”
“She might be, you never know with necromancers,” he shrugs, sliding the body onto the floor.
“Are we going back to the Sanctuary now?”
The red haired officer turns and sees the cleaver approaching with a black rucksack.
“Yes we can go,” he nods climbing into the driver’s seat of the van.
As soon as the cleaver is in the van, the group leave with their captive sound asleep.