Hibernian Charm (An Occult Detective Urban Fantasy) (Hibernian Hollows Book 2) Read online

  “Everyone does weird stuff nowadays, it seems.”

  “Not everyone. Anyway, did you actually learn anything from that?”

  “Yes,” Melanie said as they got to the lift. “I learned what happens when this paralysis kicks in fully. We've got to stop the perpetrator before they do it to anyone else.”

  Chapter 4 – Likely Suspects

  Their first port of call was the esoteric bar known as the Monolith. It was bang smack in the City Centre, and yet it was largely unknown to most people. That was because it was the favourite haunt of another group, some of which weren't even people at all.

  Melanie pushed the front doors open, and the usual din fell to a quiet whisper. There was no doubt who they were whispering about. If there was, all those bladed eyes removed it entirely.

  “No, no, no,” the owner, Oscar Elsey, said. He shimmied up to them, shaking his hips as he walked. If it wasn't for his muscular frame, he would have seemed quite fey. Yet that was the funny thing about this other world so many lived in: fey often meant something else.

  “We're just here for a drink,” Melanie said.

  Oscar cackled. “What, the copshop got none?”

  Eckhart shuffled up to him, bearing his chest. He looked remarkably small next to Oscar, but then everyone did. “We heard you're the best around.”

  Oscar smiled. “You talkin' about me or the bar?”

  Eckhart shrugged.

  “He doesn't know what he's talking about,” Melanie said, pushing in between them. “Why don't you get us a drink, Oscar? You know what I like.”

  “Yeah,” Oscar said with a scoff. “You like to cause trouble. I can't let you in, Melanie. You spook the customers.”

  “She spooks them?” Eckhart asked. “Isn't spook slang for one of you lot?”

  “Isn't it slang for one of you?” Oscar replied. “I don't need spies here.”

  “We're not spies,” Melanie said.

  “Well, the Vowels ain't no normal Garda unit, is it?”

  Eckhart grinned. “More normal than you.”

  “Boys,” Melanie said. “Can't we just settle this over a cocktail? I've had a hard day. I just want a quiet drink.”

  Oscar grumbled, leading them to the bar. “You think you've had a hard day? Try keeping the Kavanaghs and O'Neills away from each other's throats.”

  “We've tried,” Melanie said, pulling up a stool.

  “Yeah, best steer clear of them, Melanie.”

  “I've told her that before,” Eckhart said. “Don't mess with the vampires.”

  Oscar let out a low purr at him. “Don't mess with the werewolves either.”

  “Well,” Eckhart said. “Wait till the New Moon first.”

  “Have you heard anything strange lately?” Melanie asked.

  Oscar couldn't contain his smile. “Strange? Girl, my whole world is strange!”

  “You said it,” Eckhart remarked, raising his glass.

  “Yeah, I know, Oscar, but … stranger than normal.”

  “Well, there were these rumours about a new warlock in town. Malik Oaken”

  “Oh?”

  Oscar leant in close, and seemed about to spill the beans on the latest gossip, but then he halted and snapped his jaw shut. “This isn't official police business, is it?”

  “Not official,” she said.

  He grumbled again. “Well, you didn't hear this from me, but it's been said he's wanted in Amsterdam for a string of occult crimes. Apparently he set up a coven to lure young women in, and no one's seen them since. All the covens here have their members on high alert.”

  “Why don't they, uh, do some magic against him?” Eckhart asked.

  “Because he's got his own. Defences up the wazoo.”

  Eckhart forced a straight face. “Up there, huh?”

  “Do you have any details on him?” Melanie asked.

  “Here,” Oscar said, pulling a poster from the wall. It showed the faces of a dozen people the bartenders were not to serve. He tapped his finger at Malik's image, with his high brow and long, black hair. He looked like he came from a bygone era. As far as Melanie was concerned, he should have stayed there.

  “He looks grim.”

  “He is grim,” Oscar said.

  “How did you get this photo?”

  “Let's just say, a little faerie took it for me.”

  “And all I've got are little birdies,” Eckhart said. “I could do with an upgrade.”

  Melanie was about to hand the poster back when she saw her and Eckhart's faces on the bottom row. She scoffed.

  “Hey, girl, I told you you weren't supposed to be in here,” Oscar said.

  “We're not that bad, are we?”

  “It depends who you ask.”

  “I'm asking you.”

  “Well, I like you, personally.”

  “And what about me?” Eckhart asked.

  “What about you?”

  “Sheesh.”

  Melanie tapped her hand forcefully at Malik's image, as if she could crush him from afar. They turned their attention back to the warlock.

  “Is he known for anything like … paralysis?” Melanie asked.

  Oscar stopped mid top-up of her glass. “Oh. That.”

  “So, you heard.”

  “We all heard about that.”

  “And?”

  “It's a mystery.”

  “But this warlock,” Melanie said. “Is he known for that?”

  “He's known for all sorts, but I hadn't heard of this before.”

  “When did he arrive in Dublin?”

  Oscar scrunched his mouth. “I don't know. About two weeks ago.”

  Melanie looked at Eckhart.

  “Coincidence?” he said.

  “Not in this world.”

  “Let me guess,” Oscar said. “The paralysis victims only started showing up in the last two weeks.”

  Eckhart gave him the finger gun, with a double tick of his tongue. “You shoulda been a detective.”

  Oscar groaned. “Not for a million bucks. You haven't heard of this warlock, have you? One of the other crimes he's wanted for is the murder of dozens of police across Europe. There's nothing he hates more.”

  Eckhart bit his lip, then turned to Melanie. “Maybe we should ask for those dud cases back. I didn't really mind the paperwork.”

  Chapter 5 – Back-alley Magic

  They had a name, and a face to go with it, but they knew they couldn't rely on that photo. Some warlocks could change their appearance. He could look like anyone. Melanie pushed down the thought that he might even look like her.

  They scoured some of the magical hotspots of Dublin City Centre, all those back alleys behind the occult bookshops, meditation centres, and nondescript buildings that belonged to various secret societies. Maybe some of the people who frequented those places thought they were being discreet, but the OIU had most of those locations mapped out. They were patrolled, even if not everyone knew it.

  They were getting nowhere with their inquiries until they went to the street behind House of Stars, an occult bookshop not far from Central Bank. A few covens met there for moot and lectures, and some of their members hung out outside, with all those stragglers who couldn't get in. It was the place to be, like waiting outside a concert hall.

  Melanie flashed her badge. A few scarpered at the sight of it. “Hello, boys and girls.” Some rolled their eyes at her. “I'm wondering if any of you can help us.”

  “No one can help you,” one of the teen girls said, eyeing her up and down as if her outfit was an affront to the gods. Maybe it was. It was certainly an affront to the gods of the OIU. It was like everything about Melanie, a bit of a mish-mash, a bit of a culture clash. Some of it said authority, but some of it said rebel.

  “That's too bad,” Melanie said. “Because helping me might help you.”

  “How?”

  “We're looking for a warlock.”

  “We just call them witches, hun,” an older woman said.

&nb
sp; “I call him Malik Oaken.”

  All those sniggers stopped abruptly. More of the crowd started to part. Even the cocky teen turned away.

  “We don't want anything to do with him,” the old woman said.

  “Good. I want him locked up. So, maybe you can help me find him.”

  The old woman's face grew pale. “He'll know,” she whispered.

  Melanie gestured to the teen. “This your daughter?”

  “My niece.”

  “You know what he does to girls like her?”

  The woman sighed and shook her head. “Yes.”

  “Then help me.”

  The woman sighed again. “He'll kill me.”

  “He'll kill a lot of people if we don't catch him,” Eckhart said.

  She eyed the two of them, then glanced at the teen girl, who didn't look half as cocky as she did before. There wasn't a magic-user in Ireland who hadn't heard of Malik Oaken by now. He was one of the rock stars of the occult world, a rock star you didn't want to meet.

  “He's at Ballyboden Bastion.”

  “The O'Neills' place?”

  “It's not theirs now. There aren't many of them left.”

  “What's he doing there?”

  “Goddess knows. I heard rumours he's trying to raise some of the slain vampires.”

  “As if we need more of those,” Eckhart said.

  “Right, well, thanks for your help,” Melanie said.

  “You're not going there alone, are you?” the old woman asked.

  Melanie looked at Eckhart. “Not alone.”

  “He'll kill you.”

  Eckhart raised an eyebrow. “Eh, maybe I'll wait in the car.”

  “You need a powerful magician to take him on,” the old woman said.

  Melanie smiled. “I know a guy.”

  Chapter 6 – Friends in High Places

  It didn't take them long to get to the National Library of Ireland. It was after hours now, so it was closed, or so it seemed to the public. They waited outside in their car. Everyone had their favourite haunt. This was one of Melanie's.

  “Are you sure about this?” Eckhart asked.

  “As sure as I've ever been,” Melanie responded.

  “So, not very then.”

  Melanie smiled. “Not very.”

  “What if he says no?”

  “Then he says no.”

  “Yeah, but … we're not really going after this warlock by ourselves, are we? I mean, what are we supposed to do? He can probably teleport out of cuffs.”

  “Then our friend better say yes.”

  “Hey, he's your friend, not mine.”

  At that moment, the glass door of the Manuscripts Department opened, and out came a tall, thin man with greying hair. He locked up, glanced around, then put up his umbrella, even though it wasn't raining. He skipped down the steps and started walking down Kildare Street.

  Eckhart pressed gently on the accelerator, cruising along behind him. Then the clouds parted like waves and the rain cascaded down.

  “Get him to pick the numbers for the lotto,” Eckhart suggested.

  Then, just as suddenly, they lost him. Within the fraction of a second it took to blink, he was gone, as if they'd fallen asleep and he'd vanished around the corner. There was a sense of cloudiness in their minds, as if the sky had fallen there too.

  “I don't gamble,” a voice came from the seat behind them.

  They jumped, finding the librarian sitting in the back seat, cross-legged, dangling the handle of his quite dry umbrella over his outstretched index finger.

  “Jesus!” Eckhart exclaimed.

  “No,” Mr. Constant said, “not quite, but he was a magician in his own right.”

  “You shouldn't do that,” Melanie said, “sneaking up on people.”

  Mr. Constant gave the slightest of smiles beneath his moustache. “And what exactly were you doing, Melanie Miri Rosen?”

  Eckhart raised his eyebrows. “Your full name,” he whispered, as if to say: Now you're in trouble.

  “And what about you?” the magician asked him. “Toby Matthew Eckhart.”

  “Christ, how'd you know that?”

  “It's on your badge,” Mr. Constant said, holding it up.

  “I won't even ask how you got that.”

  “From your pocket, of course.”

  “Ernest,” Melanie said.

  “Yes?”

  “You might be wondering why we're here.”

  “I'm wondering why you haven't told me yet.”

  “We're looking for a warlock.”

  Mr. Constant furrowed his brow. “Well, don't look at me.”

  “No. There's someone new in town. Goes by the name Malik—”

  “Oaken,” Mr. Constant interjected. “Malik Oaken.”

  “You know him?”

  “Yes. He was refused entry into the Order.”

  “The Golden Dawn?”

  “The very same.”

  “We need to catch him,” Melanie urged.

  “We don't need to do anything. That's outside my remit.”

  “But surely you want him caught as much as we do.”

  “Surely, indeed, but I'm not interested in magical wars. That's not what the Order is about.”

  “I'm not asking you to do this on official business. Can you do it … as a friend?”

  Mr. Constant grumbled, stabbing the end of the umbrella into the floor. “Fine,” he said. “I'm doing this for your grandmother Tsura though. And all of this is off the record. I don't want to find my name in some police report.” He held up his index finger. “Not again.”

  “I'll write in magic ink,” Eckhart said with a chuckle.

  Mr. Constant was not amused. “If we're not careful with Malik, you'll be writing it in blood.”

  Chapter 7 – Outside the Broken Fortress

  Ballyboden Bastion was in Rathfarnham, at the edge of the Dublin mountains, built by the O'Neill vampires to spy on the nearby Umbra Montis mansion owned by the rival Kavanagh vampire clan. Since the recent collapse of the O'Neill family, the Bastion had largely been abandoned, but no one dared take it over, for fear that somehow they might offend the O'Neills even from beyond the grave. Malik Oaken didn't seem to have those fears. He went anywhere he pleased.

  “It still looks unfinished,” Melanie said as they drew up to those castle walls.

  “This is where they bred their army,” Mr. Constant said.

  “One for the history books, huh?” Eckhart said, nudging him.

  “You won't find any of this in the public parts of the National Library,” the magician replied. “These are the annals of the hidden life, the secret world.”

  “The Hollows,” Eckhart said.

  “What's that?”

  “The Hibernian Hollows, I've heard it called.”

  Mr. Constant fidgeted with his moustache. “Yes, I suppose you could call it that.”

  “How do we get in?” Melanie asked. She was already at the boot of the car, pulling out ropes and tools.

  “Through the front door,” Mr. Constant said. “That's often a good place to start.”

  “Oh. I thought it'd be barred.”

  “Fear and rumour is this fortress' defence now.”

  “Well, it's working,” Eckhart said.

  “So, I guess I won't need these,” Melanie said, casting the items back into the boot.

  “Have you got stakes?”

  “Yes. Will we need them?”

  “This is vampire territory, Melanie. You'll need them if you need your life.”

  “I thought they were dead,” Eckhart said. “The O'Neills, that is.”

  “They were already dead,” the magician replied. “Never be surprised if they can die a few times more. Bring those stakes.”

  “We have stake-loaded guns,” Eckhart suggested.

  “Even better then.”

  “And what about the warlock?”

  Mr. Constant pursed his lips. “Bring everything you've got.”

 
Chapter 8 – The Land of the Dead

  When they had assembled their supplies, feeling overburdened by them, and noting that Mr. Constant seemed to have nothing at all, they carefully stalked up to the gigantic gate of the castle's outer wall. It was a new building, but it looked ancient. Some of it was purposely aged. Other parts were moved from other sites of antiquity.

  The portcullis was up, with its bladed edges dangling above their heads. Mr. Constant strolled through leisurely, Melanie charged after, and Eckhart darted along behind her, ducking low.

  “I guess he's expecting visitors,” Eckhart quipped.

  Mr. Constant gave him a silent glare.

  They walked into the courtyard, eyeing the circular pits on either side, where some of the vampires were birthed, and where others were forced to fight for their first meal. Tradition was big in the vampire world, and the first bite was as sacred to them as holy communion.

  There were rumours that people mad enough to walk the mountains were captured and dragged here. Melanie had fought for an investigation for weeks, but it was always refused. Don had said, “Keep to your own, and let them keep to theirs. Let the Kavanaghs sort them out.” It was always the same in the OIU. That wasn't what it was supposed to be like, as far as Melanie was concerned. They should've been out there doing something. Like this. Mr. Constant didn't need to worry about a police report, because Melanie knew she couldn't file it anyway, not without risking her badge. She'd spent most of the last decade risking that.

  “Now that I think about it,” Eckhart said, “maybe we should've waited till day?”

  “Fear not the dark,” Mr. Constant said. He flicked the fingers of his right hand, producing a faint glow. “Not when you bring the light.”

  They carried on, towards the keep. That door was broken apart, as if the castle had been raided. It was possible that the Kavanaghs had cleared the place out after the recent vampire war, but Malik could have filled it up again. The Kavanaghs could've done that too. Melanie had met their leader, Rua. She seemed like she obeyed some kind of unwritten vampire rules, but she was still a vampire all the same.