Page 9

Chapter 9

Sunday Murder Club – Episode Four

DAGON

F or the first time since its inception, we were all on time to our meeting of the Sunday Murder Club.

And for the first time, no one had any names to put forward.

Maybe it was because we’d moved our meeting to a Monday. Valentine’s Day had fallen on a Saturday this year, so we’d all agreed to swap days. That was both the bonus and pitfall of us all being mated now, holidays we once hadn’t given a fuck about were now high on our priority lists.

“There must be someone.” I tugged at my hair in exasperation. “People piss us off on a daily basis.”

“Not enough for us to justify killing them,” Cal drawled.

Dimitri snorted. “I can tell you haven’t been on public transport recently. I could suggest a few from there.”

My head swivelled towards my mate. “Um, when exactly have you been on public transport?”

He shrugged. “Last week. Lucky wanted to get the bus home because it was raining.”

“A bus?” Sebastian literally shivered in horror. “Absolutely not. Matty used to get those and I wouldn’t dream of letting him on one now.”

“They have buses in Hell for a reason,” Ferry reminded us. Not that we needed it, but I supposed River and Blaise might not know. Mages couldn’t go into Hell without forfeiting their immortality. “Just going round and round to torture people.”

Dimitri, as always, was unbothered. “Lucky didn’t want to get wet.”

I understood not saying no to our human mate. If anything, I was likely to cave faster than Dimitri. But this just didn’t make sense. “We own three cars between us.”

“I flew there.” Dimitri stroked my thigh. “Are you just jealous because you missed out on the lady who coughed all over us? Or perhaps you’re sad about the karaoke performance the drunk dude at the back put on?”

I grunted. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just saying, I can’t believe you willingly went on a bus.”

Dimitri fixed me with a knowing look. “Like you wouldn’t have agreed?”

“I would’ve called a taxi.”

By now, the rest of the table had fallen into quiet conversation, leaving us to our bickering. They knew there was little point in trying to intervene. There was only one person who could get us to see sense when we were in this mood.

On the same wavelength, Dimitri pulled out his phone and hit the video call button. Lucky’s face appeared within two rings. He was sat at his desk, right where we’d left him. He had a massive essay due tomorrow and had wanted to give it one last read through.

“Are you two arguing again?” he said without preamble.

“No,” Dima and I said in unison.

“Really.” Lucky didn’t bother to hide his smirk. “You remember we’re bonded, right? I can literally feel the mild irritation mixed with sexual frustration.”

Dimitri’s hand slid higher on my thigh. “We can increase the latter if that’ll help.”

Just then, Harlow’s head appeared over my shoulder in the frame. “Um, new rule, remember? No being horny fuckers in front of your brothers. It’s weird.”

Lucky’s face flushed on the screen, making both Dimitri and me turn to glare at Harlow. “How about you fuck off?”

Harlow shot his middle finger up at me, but retreated back to his seat. Within seconds, he was drawn into a heated debate with Blaise about which Gallagher brother most deserved a punch.

“What are you arguing about?” Lucky asked.

Dimitri snorted. “Lucky, just do me a favour. Ask Dagon to get a bus with you.”

Lucky’s brow crinkled. “Okaaay. Dagon, will you get a bus with me?”

“No, thank you,” I said quickly. “We can take a taxi.”

“Not like that,” Dagon scowled. “Like you asked me last week. When it was raining.”

“Oh.” Understanding dawned in Lucky’s eyes, quickly morphing to amusement. He blinked a couple of times before making them all big and round. “Dagon? Can we get the bus home please? It’s right there and my trainers are soaked.”

This wasn’t even real, and I could already feel myself giving in. I had to try though, I wasn’t letting Dima win this easily. “A taxi would be warmer, darling. I can have one here in a few minutes.”

“But the bus is right there.” Lucky pouted, his eyes growing even rounder. “Please, Dagon? It’d make me happy.”

Fuck. I didn’t even need to say it—they both knew I’d lost. I let Dima crow for a second before grumpily admitting defeat. “Fine. I would’ve got on the fucking bus too. You happy now?”

“Yep,” Dimitri chirped, blowing a kiss at the screen. “Thank you, little one. I’ll blow you when I get home.”

A collective groan went around the table. I ignored it. All of them would say something similar to their mates. And let’s not forget how many times I’d walked in on some of them having sex.

Eye bleach was a must with this group.

A pulse of unease and anger went through the bond, making both Dimitri and me sit up straight. Lucky hadn’t responded to what Dimitri had said, glaring at something above his phone.

“Lucky?” Dimitri asked urgently. “What’s wrong?”

“Have you seen this?” He flipped the camera on his phone to reveal the TV screen. That must’ve been what had caught his attention. Brian Jeffries, former prime minister, was on the steps of the High Court. His beefy cheeks were ruddy with joy, his fists pumping in the air.

“Oh don’t tell me the fucker was cleared,” I said in dismay. Several heads swivelled in our direction, River and Mori leaning in so they could see the screen. “They weren’t even supposed to reach a verdict for another couple of days.”

“Absolute pisstake,” Harlow seethed. “How the fuck could they have found him innocent with all the evidence against him?”

The case against Jeffries had been at the top of our news cycle for months now. The former leader of the Tory Party had seemed shady at the best of times. During his premiership, he’d gutted social care and the NHS. Benefits had been slashed to the core, leaving record numbers visiting food banks. Evictions had doubled, and the general cost of living shot through the roof.

He’d been popular among one class though—the wealthy. Under his care, they’d got richer while everyone else got poorer.

So yeah, the bloke was a cunt of the first order. However, it was only when he was ousted from leadership that the true details of his evil came to life. The multi-billion-pound contracts he’d sold to his friends for peanuts. The public funds that had been used to build him both a second and a third home in the countryside.

Worst of all though, was the accusation that he’d been funnelling money into an offshore account in his wife’s name. His defence was that he employed her.

Pretty cushty job if that was the case, given his wife was rarely glimpsed outside of a salon, spa, or yacht. We were all in the wrong industries if that was the case.

Jefferies had become the face of corruption in the UK. The public had been rightly baying for blood, for the courts to fulfil their purpose and convict the wrongdoer.

Instead, the fucker had been allowed to escape without so much as a slap on the wrist.

Too bad for him that the humans weren’t the only ones who’d been following this. We generally avoided getting involved in affairs such as this, knowing their punishment would follow post death, but Lucky had been raised in the system. A system that now lay in tatters, simply to line the pockets of fat cats. His former care home was now abandoned, the kids scattered to fuck only knew where.

My mates and I had taken a focused interest in this case. A very focused interest.

“Well, gentlemen.” Ferry folded his hands on the table. “Looks like we have our candidate. Who’d like the honours?”

Dimitri and I didn’t so much as exchange a look before we simultaneously raised our hands.

Lucky flicked the camera so it was facing him again. His sunny face was grim. “Make the fucker pay.”

* * *

W e didn’t even need to use Mori’s tracking skills or Sebastian’s hacking skills to hunt Jefferies down. His celebratory party was splashed across social media and every news outlet.

That’s right. The fucker was celebrating getting off on a technicality. Knowing him, it was highly likely he’d greased the wheels in his favour. I made a mental note to have Sebastian do a deep dive into the judge who’d presided over the case.

Normally I didn’t give a shit about politicians. They were all corrupt. If we took it upon ourselves to clean up the trash, we’d never do anything else. Or have anyone running the country.

But this guy…He’d hurt our mate and so many others as a result of his policies. The courts had failed to deliver justice.

Dima and I would not.

The party was being held in the Members Dining Room in the House of Commons, of all places. The irony hadn’t escaped us. What better place to celebrate defrauding society than in the heart of the government itself?

Fuckers. Each and every one of them.

Dimitri and I stood at the edge of the dining room, surveying the scene. Hidden behind a compulsion net, we were able to observe at our leisure.

Brian Jefferies was sat at the top table, his already red cheeks further stained by the vast amounts of wine he’d consumed. He was talking far too loudly, those on either side him hanging on his every word, like he was everything they looked up to and adored.

Would they have done so if the court case had had a different outcome? I’d hope not.

Something told me it wouldn’t have mattered. That they still would’ve championed him, even as he sat behind bars.

I memorised each of their faces. Sebastian could do a deep dive into them too. Murdering people was the least creative way to ruin someone’s life. We were doing this to Brian Jefferies to send a message.

The others would learn a harder lesson.

“You ready to do this?” Dimitri said next to me. “I can’t watch this fucker for another second.”

I grunted in agreement.

We shoved off the wall and headed for the door at the side of the room. A wisp of compulsion had Brian pushing back his chair to follow us.

“Excuse me,” he slurred to his guests. “Need to use the conveniences.”

I didn’t need to see Dima’s face to know he’d rolled his eyes along with me. Fucking rich pricks.

It was ironic really, given I could single-handedly buy every person sitting in that room. Difference between me and them was that they’d been born with a stick up their arse.

Meanwhile, I’d been born to shove one up there, and I don’t mean sexually. A literal red-hot poker. While they screamed and begged for mercy.

It was a shame we wouldn’t be doing that for dear old Brian. Not to worry though, someone downstairs would undoubtedly take great delight in doing just that once we’d sent him their way.

It had been a good hundred years since I’d been inside these walls, but thankfully the layout hadn’t changed much. You had to admire how the Brits clung to their history and traditions, even if some of them were long due to change. Such as this practice of letting corrupt wankers walk free. Then again, that was more of a ‘human race’ issue than a British one.

I led Dimitri up a set of stairs, Brian following us like a mute puppet. I had to open two doors, but finally I found the room I’d been searching for. “Perfect.”

Dimitri strolled to the curtains covering the opposite end of the room. As he poked his head out, sounds from the dinner below filtered through. “Yep, this is the balcony. It’ll work perfectly.”

Brian stood in the middle of the room, unseeing and completely silent, just as I’d compelled him to be.

I stood before him, lifting the compulsion enough that he was aware, but ensuring he couldn’t speak. It wasn’t that we were worried about being disturbed—we’d used a net.

No. It was that I couldn’t stomach another fucking word out of this cunt’s mouth.

He blinked in confusion, looking around the room before narrowing his eyes at me. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. I smirked as he tried again and again, fury turning his complexion a mottled purple.

“Frustrating when your voice is taken from you,” I said in mock sympathy as Dima appeared at my side. “How do you think it feels for all those people you’ve stifled? The ones who can’t afford to pay rent? Those who have to rely on food banks to avoid starvation? The kids in care homes who’ve had the only stability they’ve ever known suddenly ripped away from them?”

Brian stepped back, obviously planning on leaving. Dima gave a low chuckle, his own power wrapping around mine. “Oh, there’s no point trying to run, Jefferies.”

He huffed, mildly put out. It didn’t surprise me that he wasn’t frightened yet. Men like him rarely found themselves in situations they couldn’t bullshit or buy their way out of.

He’d learn soon enough. Then he’d feel fear.

Dimitri pulled a length of rope out from where his whip usually lived. “I hope you enjoyed your supper, Brian. It was your last.”

“And unlike our heavenly mother’s son,” I said, leaning forwards to whisper, “there won’t be any coming back from the dead for you.”

* * *

W e were faster taking care of Jefferies than I would’ve liked, but we were on a deadline.

In the room below us, the toasts were happening. There’d been some anxious buzzing about where Jefferies had disappeared to, but a wave of compulsion had had them carrying on as normal.

Not for much longer though.

“Ready?” I asked Dimitri, hands on the curtains.

He nodded, hefting the rope a little higher. “Yep. Let’s get this over with so we can get home to Lucky.”

I tried to channel Harlow as I threw open the curtains and beamed at the crowd below. “Esteemed members of the Commons and friends, thank you for joining us for tonight’s spectacular finale.”

A hundred faces turned to look at me en masse. The only compulsion I used was to ensure their phones didn’t appear. Sebastian was taking care of the CCTV feeds, and had warned me not to let any other errant footage slip out. He tried to poke me with his dagger too, but Dimitri had intervened.

“Tonight you’re here to celebrate a miscarriage of justice in the form of one Brian Jefferies. While you wine and dine on the finest food and champagne, millions are going to bed with empty stomachs. Children are bedding down in shelters for the night, while their parents are left to seek out empty doorways.”

A few in the crowd shifted uncomfortably, but most of them just looked mildly irritated.

“The media has presented this as justice prevailing.” I let my demon come to the surface, my wings sliding through the panels in my shirt. I didn’t usually bother with altered clothing, but it was better for the dramatic effect I was going for. “But we all know that to be a lie.”

Whispers broke out in the room as the audience wondered what kind of show this was.

They were about to find out.

“Behold what happens when justice fails.” I flung out my arm to the side, spotting Dimitri rolling his eyes in my peripheral vision. See, this was why I had to do this part. He took himself far too seriously for this.

I nodded at the captive audience and Dimitri sighed. Hauling the rope in, he hefted Jefferies’s body into the air…

…and straight over the balcony.

Gasps and screams filled the room as they took in the bloated corpse of the man they were here to celebrate. His lifeless form swayed on the end of the rope.

Dimitri and I watched the terror unfold in silence. When it reached a fever pitch, I let free another wave of compulsion.

Everyone fell silent, turning to face me like puppets. Just as they had been for the dead man now hanging above them.

“This is the fate that awaits you,” I said darkly. “Maybe not in this life, but certainly in the next. If you do not change your ways, you will find yourselves in the hands of someone just like me for the rest of eternity. Rest assured, what’s happened to Brian Jefferies here is a small mercy compared to what he’s now facing in Hell.”

Dimitri pulled the rope, lifting Brian’s body a little higher. “You will remember none of what’s happened here, but you will remember this feeling of fear you have now. Every time you go to break the law, cause or turn a blind eye to corruption, or do something not for the good of the nation, you will remember how you feel now.”

With his final ominous words, Dimitri swung Jefferies effortlessly back over the balustrade and dropped him unceremoniously on the floor. When I closed the curtains, our compulsion lifted, and the chatter continued as though nothing had happened.

Well, not nothing. There was a note of anxiety in the air now. People were voicing uncertainties about the future rather than applauding the corruption they’d got away with in the past.

Good.

Dimitri set about staging the scene so it appeared as though Brian Jefferies had choked to death. It wouldn’t be a hard sell given his level of inebriation when he’d left the dining room. The compulsion we’d left on his body would seal the deal though.

“Come on,” Dima said when he was done, brushing a kiss against my temple. “Let’s go home and tell Lucky it’s done.”

A slow smirk worked over my face, making Dima frown at me curiously. “What?”

“I’m just thinking…he’s going to be really grateful.”

Now Dimitri was smirking too. “Lucky us.”