Scorched Heart (The Firebrand Series Book 4) by Helen Harper (top non fiction books of all time .txt) 📗

when I had the chance. I’d go back. I’d speak to him again. And this time I wouldn’t let him get away. Fuck the consequences.

I stood up, realising that my jeans and my hands were filthy. My nose twitched. I’d need to go to the Bird and Bush, change and get out of Barchapel. I could be in London before dinnertime. Then…

I jerked. That smell. Oh my God. That smell.

With trembling hands, I raised my fingers to my nose and sniffed. My mouth went dry. I wasn’t imagining it. I sniffed again then let out a cry and collapsed again, only this time it wasn’t out of grief or pain but confusion.

I scrabbled at the floor, brushing away as much of the debris and dust as I could. There were the old bloodstains but that wasn’t all – there was a darker stain too. It wasn’t brown and it didn’t look like old blood; it seemed to be a scorch mark.

Something had burned here, something sulphurous and strong. I stared at the mark. There was only one explanation and I should have considered it earlier. I’d accepted what I’d been told as the gospel truth and hadn’t questioned it further, but I had to question it now.

It wasn’t only my parents who had died here. It looked like I had died too.

Chapter Five

Lukas answered the phone on the second ring. ‘D’Artagnan. Is everything alright?’

I opened my mouth to answer and suddenly realised that I couldn’t speak.

‘Emma?’ He sounded more concerned. ‘Emma?’

I drew in a shaky breath. ‘I’m here. Sorry. I’m here. I just…’ I swallowed the lump in my throat. ‘I needed to hear your voice.’

‘What’s happened?’

I found the words and gave him a brief rundown of what I’d discovered in the cottage. In my childhood home.

‘I have to admit,’ he said, ‘it had crossed my mind that’s what had happened.’

‘You should have said something.’

He sighed. ‘It’s obvious the thought hadn’t occurred to you, and I didn’t want to plant ideas that might cause you more pain. You’ve clearly put a lot of effort into putting the events of your childhood behind you, and you take care not to dwell on the past. I’m not only talking about your parents.’

‘You mean Jeremy too,’ I said flatly, referring to my ex-boyfriend who’d murdered me. Twice.

‘It didn’t seem wise to stir up old ghosts when you’d found your own way of coping.’ He hesitated. ‘Are you sure you’re doing the right thing? You don’t have to stay in Barchapel, you know. I can pick you up and get you back to London right now.’

I shook my head, for my benefit rather than his. ‘I’ve started this,’ I said softly. ‘I have to finish.’

‘Okay.’

I liked that he didn’t try to persuade me otherwise or to ask whether I was sure. Lukas took my answer at face value, respected how I felt and acted accordingly. He wasn’t all big bad vampire Lord.

‘I’ll be there in a couple of hours,’ he continued.

Whoa. ‘No,’ I said. ‘You told me you’ve got business to take care of.’

‘I can delegate.’ His voice was brisk. ‘You need me more.’

‘I don’t. You have your own responsibilities and I’m okay. Now that I’ve spoken to you I feel much better.’ I wasn’t even lying. I added more softly, ‘Don’t give me more things to feel guilty about. There’s nothing for you to do here and a million things for you take care of in London. Not to mention a thousand vampires. I’ll see you on Thursday like we planned.’

‘Emma…’

‘It’s fine. I’m fine. Besides, I’m on my way to the local police station to find out more about this other murder. There’s no point in you heading here and then cooling your heels because I’m too busy doing my job to worry about anything else.’

‘If you change your mind,’ Lukas said, ‘all you have to do is say the word. I’ll drop everything and come running in a heartbeat.’

The lump in my throat was making a return. ‘I know,’ I said. ‘Thank you.’

I started walking down the country lane and into Barchapel. The sun was still shining, its warm cheerful rays at odds with my turbulent thoughts. As I turned the corner, my eyes narrowed when I saw the crow sitting on the low hanging branch of an oak tree nearby. I glared at it and it cawed once before flapping off. I sniffed. It probably wasn’t the same bird I’d seen earlier but its departure gave me some satisfaction.

I reached for my phone once more. Lukas had given me the emotional support I needed but now I wanted more practical assistance. Fortunately, I knew the perfect forensic pathologist to help me out.

‘Emma!’ Laura greeted my call, upbeat as usual. ‘How’s my favourite zombie?’

‘Very funny,’ I told her. ‘But I don’t want to eat your brains so much as pick them.’

Laura must have heard something in my voice because she immediately grew serious. ‘What is it?’

I plucked at an invisible speck of lint on my sleeve. ‘I don’t suppose you ever took samples of the – er – residue that’s left over when I resurrect?’

‘What kind of death scientist do you take me for? Of course I did. Testing the stuff that you leave behind when you die and come back to life again is my new hobby. Not that I’ve got anywhere with the results, beyond working out that there’s a mixture of dead skin cells, elemental sulphur and nondescript ashes.’ She paused. ‘Why?’

I bit my lip. ‘If I sent you an old sample from a historic crime scene, could you compare the two?’

‘It would depend how old we’re talking.’ She sounded excited. ‘Why? Is there someone else who’s a phoenix? Have you found evidence of someone like you?’

‘Not exactly. It’s me – old me. It’s possible that I died and was re-born when I was a little kid.’

I could almost hear the cogs turning in Laura’s brain. ‘I’m confused. When did this happen? Why didn’t anyone notice that you’d