‘I spent hours fishing around in Dylan’s brain, and it’s not a memory spell,’ she’d whispered. ‘Not as such. He’s been compelled to forget something. Stanley, for sure, but I think it’s a whole lot more.’

  ‘Compelled? As in by a vampire?’

  She nodded, her silver earrings catching the morning light and dazzling my eyes. ‘Yes, a vampire. But a pretty average one, if I’m honest. When I found the compulsion, I felt sure that I could break it and make him remember. Except …’ She sighed, brushing a small pool of water off one of his loungers and taking a seat, ‘I couldn’t break it. Ash, it’s like Dylan was blocking me. Well … blocking himself, I should say.’

  ‘Wait … I thought you said that he had been compelled. Now you’re saying he’s repressing his own memories?’

  ‘No. I’m saying it’s a bit of both. I’m saying it’s a fairly inferior attempt, and I’d almost broken through it, but it was like Dylan put a wall up himself at that point. But I did see flashes of his memory before that.’ She shivered. ‘Miriam was there, with some other vamps I didn’t recognise. It was a warehouse, I think. But it was cold. There were crates on racks, and some on the floor. Dylan had just walked in on something – it looked like Miriam and the others were opening up one of the crates – but then he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he looked around at Stanley, and then … that was it. I was closed out. And I’m sure of it, Ash. It was Dylan who shut me down. And I think the reason he did that is because whatever happened after that was seriously traumatic.’

  ‘Huh.’ I leaned back against the wall and folded my arms. ‘So he was right about recognising Stanley, then. And what did Dylan have to say about it all? Will he work with you some more on this?’

  ‘He said we’ll get back to it as soon as we can, but … I can’t say it’ll be easy. It’s a very stubborn brain.’ She gave me a wicked grin. ‘And it’s also one that is very full of thoughts of a certain reporter.’

  I was just wondering how wrong it would be to ask her to tell me one of those thoughts, when Jared poked his head out the door. ‘Come on girls. Coffee’s ready.’

  ≈

  We worked straight through until eleven that morning, and only stopped because Grace had fallen asleep beneath the pool of rain she’d mistakenly summoned instead of lightning. She awoke with a snort that somehow managed to be graceful, and said, ‘Well, you all look incredibly tired, I must say. I think we should go and get some rest for tonight.’

  While she was one hundred percent correct, I decided to head to the Daily Riddler office anyway. We’d already prepared the Solstice edition, but there were one or two things that needed to be finalised before it was ready for Grace’s printing spells. I knew that once she had some rest, she’d be in a mad rush to finish things off, and since I couldn’t sleep anyway, I decided to do those things for her.

  I looked over the pages, reading the section about Stanley Martin’s death, and the death of Deefer. Other than working for Wholesome Holdings, those two men really had nothing in common. Dylan hadn’t recognised Deefer the way he had Stanley, and their deaths seemed completely unconnected.

  I’d been confused about murders before, but despite my confusion I’d always been sure that the victims were murdered. With Deefer and Stanley, I had none of that certainty. Maybe I was still holding back because I didn’t want anything to get in the way of my parents’ return. If it weren’t for what Pru had told me this morning, I might be inclined to accept that these deaths were nothing but unfortunate accidents.

  But now there was definitely a previous encounter with Stanley – in a dodgy warehouse with even dodgier vampires, no less. I was just puzzling over it all when the door opened, and Jared walked in.

  ‘Hi,’ I said. ‘I thought you were getting some sleep before tonight.’

  ‘Says the woman who thinks she can survive without ever going to the land of the nod. I just thought I’d pop in and check up on you. We didn’t get a chance to talk to each other very much at the lighthouse this morning.’

  It was true. We’d barely spoken, which meant that I had no opportunity to check if the Queen’s sachet had done its job. Maybe it was just as well he’d decided to pay me a visit. ‘Did you em … did you have a nice night with your dad? And did you maybe get some sleep afterwards? On your pillow? In your bedroom?’

  He stared at me, looking about as bemused as he ought to after what I’d just asked. ‘Where else would I sleep, you nutter? And yeah, before I went to sleep – on my pillow, in my bedroom – I did have a nice night with my dad. We talked a lot. About my mam, because … well … I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he and Mam have one of those love-hate relationships. We talked about you, too, as a matter of fact.’

  Oh dear. I sank a little lower in my chair. ‘Did you? That’s nice. And then you went home? To sleep?’

  He gave me a soft smile – the kind of smile that would melt my insides if I happened to like him in the way most women did. My stars, he was attractive. He’d tidied up his hair since I saw him last, and his face even looked a little fuller, like he’d enjoyed a really good meal.

  ‘Didn’t you notice how on the ball I was while we were running through tonight’s plan? And there was me thinking I’d been ever so impressive. Yes, I got a lot of sleep,’ he said. ‘The best night’s sleep in a while, in fact. Between that and the talk with my dad, I think I’ve really managed to put some things in perspective.’

  ‘Oh?’ That sounded promising.

  ‘Yeah. And I owe you an apology, I reckon. What I said the other day … that wasn’t fair, Ash. I think I’ve been messing about with your feelings, wrecking your head altogether. And you don’t deserve it.’

  ‘You … you think you’ve been messing with my feelings? But … I don’t have any feelings. I mean, you’re a gorgeous, lovely guy but …’

  ‘I know.’ He smiled. ‘About you not having romantic feelings, I mean – I’m not saying I know I’m a gorgeous lovely guy. Although …’ He gave me a cocky grin. ‘A lot of people seem to think so, so who am I to argue? Look, in all seriousness … I know you don’t want me in the way I’ve wished you would. You’ve been completely upfront with it, and I’ve not respected that – despite telling you a dozen times that I would. That’s what I mean when I say I’ve been messing around with your feelings. I’ve been … I guess I’ve been a bit of a manipulative slimeball, haven’t I? Telling you that you should be with me instead of Dylan. Cooking for you, trying to get on your good side all the time. Well, it’s all going to stop right away.’

  I held up my hands. ‘Hang on now. I think you’re being a bit hasty, Jared. I think we should ease into this new relationship gently. Like … maybe you could still cook me breakfast sometimes?’

  He let out a deep laugh. ‘See? That’s one of the reasons I convinced myself I was head over heels with you. But despite the fact that you are beautiful and funny and smart … I came to a conclusion this morning. As soon as I woke up, I just knew – you were right all along, Ash. I have an easy time wooing girls. But you’ve shown no interest in me that way, and I think … I think maybe I was just in it for the challenge, after all.’ He stood up. ‘You’re a good friend, Ash. I know that’s all you’ve ever wanted to be to me, and I think I can finally accept it – really accept it this time.’ He bent over and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Soon you’ll be able to be with Dylan properly, and when that happens … I honestly wish you all the happiness in the world.’

  He moved out of the office far quicker than he’d arrived, and I found myself stroking my cheek, thinking over what he’d said. The Queen’s spell had worked. Jared was just as lovely as ever, but he was no longer crazy about me. It felt like a weight off my chest, I realised. But if Dylan didn’t feel the same when this was all over, I doubted I would feel quite so relieved.

  Sure, I’d hold my head high and pretend it didn’t matter to me either way. But if it turned out that all he’d ever felt for me was a blood-induced crush, then I would be very crushed indeed.

  19. Winery Code

  After Jared’s visit, my stomach rumbles began to compete with Grace’s snores for the loudest noise in the building (yip, I could hear her from all the way downstairs) so I decided to head to the Fisherman’s Friend for some lunch.

  There were even more decorations today. I was just admiring the enormous new snow globe outside the door, when I spotted a figure on the other side. Whoever it was had been distorted by the curved glass, so I took a peek around, only to see them clicking their fingers and disappearing. But they didn’t disappear before I got a good long look at that sallow skin and chestnut hair. It was Dylan’s ex-girlfriend, Darina Berry.

  Had she been spying on me, or was she here for a totally legitimate reason? I knew which I’d be laying my bets upon. But just like everything else in my life, I was going to have to brush those thoughts aside until I’d gotten tonight over with.

  I pushed open the door, looking forward to food and warmth. The place was just beginning to fill up. Most of the occupants seemed to be local supernaturals, stopping off for a coffee and a mince pie after their last-minute shopping. But there were a few eating lunch on tables that had been squeezed in around the many Christmas displays. How was it that there were even more than there had been the last time I was here? I didn’t think there were more decorations in the whole world.

  I was wondering where on earth I was going to sit, when I spied Greg and Dylan huddled together in a booth. I shimmied past a dancing snowman and jumped over a miniature, snow-covered village, and joined them.

  ‘Hey, you’re supposed to be getting some sleep,’ said Dylan with a shake of his head.

  I picked up one of his hash browns and dipped it in his ketchup. ‘Uh huh. Just like you two.’ I noticed that Greg had a plain-covered book open in front of him, with what looked like drunken scribblings inside. ‘What’s that?’

  Greg bent his head towards me, and whispered. ‘This is why we’re still awake. I was just leaving the lighthouse when Dylan got a phone call from Stanley Martin’s wife, telling him she’d found it under his side of the mattress and asking him if it might be useful, seeing as Dylan had told her Wholesome Holdings were being investigated for fraud. She said she had no idea what any of it meant, but that Stanley often scribbled in it when he got home from work.’

  ‘Greg took me to see her in his Wizardly Wagon,’ Dylan said. ‘I told her I’d already been in Dublin, and that’s how come I arrived so fast.’

  I peered closer at the strange writing. ‘So this is … what? His diary?’

  Greg nodded. ‘Most definitely. But I can see why you’re having a hard time figuring it out, seeing as it’s written in winery code.’

  I stared at him. ‘Say what now? Are you sure you haven’t been at the wine?’

  ‘No,’ Greg replied with a dry laugh. ‘It’s a real thing. It’s how wizards can create tech with such unique coding that no one can figure out how our gadgets work unless we want them to. It’s called winery because some genius wizard invented it when he’d had a few drinks. Everyone invents their own version built on the basics. And some people use it for writing down secrets as well as programming.’

  He prodded one of the pages. ‘This is fairly basic. I’m guessing Stanley studied wizardry for a little while, but not for very long. It won’t take me too much effort to crack it. As a matter of fact …’ He and Dylan exchanged some worried glances. ‘… I’ve already worked some of it out. I decided to start from the back, figuring the last things Stanley wrote would be the most relevant. Turns out they were.’

  Dylan flipped open his own notebook, where I could see he’d written down Greg’s translations. ‘I’ll read you his last two entries,’ he said. ‘He didn’t date anything, but it’s safe to say that the first of these two was written quite some time ago, back when I was turned. And his very last entry, well … we think he wrote that only a few days ago.’ He looked down at the diary. ‘Prepare to be just as disturbed as I am.’ In a low, urgent whisper, he began to read:

  I don’t know if I can do what she wants me to. I should have been more careful. When I decided to get in touch with Detective Quinn, I thought I’d kept it to myself. But of course she found out about it. She finds out about everything. And now? Now she wants me to reel him in.

  This is so unfair. All I wanted was to do my job, get paid, and go home. But once I realised I was working for the leader of Vlad’s Boys, I couldn’t keep that to myself, could I? Well, I guess I should have. I should have just put my head down and got on with my job like everyone else in Wholesome Holdings.

  But can I really go through with this? Can I really trick Dylan Quinn, when just a couple of days ago I was thinking of going to him and telling him the truth? He seems like such a decent guy. He works so hard to get rid of the worst people out there, with no idea how close he is to some of those people.

  No matter how much I admire him, though, I’m going to have to do it. I’m going to have to call him up and give him a false tip-off, just like she wants. If I don’t, she’ll hurt my family.

  While I was busy gasping, Dylan gritted his teeth and said, ‘So now I know who Stanley Martin was. Why I recognised him. He was the one who gave me the tip-off on the night … on the night I was turned.’ He squeezed his eyes shut. ‘I never told anyone what happened that night, but now might be a good time to start. I was called out to what I was told would be a Vlad’s Boys meeting. I thought I’d be catching them in the act, but instead I walked into a trap. I can’t remember Stanley being there. To be honest, all I remember is receiving a call, and then waking up days later in the middle of nowhere. In the dark. I’d been beaten up, and I couldn’t even remember who did it. But that wasn’t the worst of it, because when I woke up that night, I knew straight away that I was a dayturner. It’s a little bit hard not to notice your skin breaking out in a rash and your stomach churning in agonizing pain – so I ran for cover and waited for daylight to come.’

  He took a deep breath. ‘After that … after that I’d sometimes have nightmares. Weird, fragmented dreams about being forced to drink blood from a bag. Scary faces. Sharp teeth. But nothing I could pin down. Whatever happened to me, I felt like it was my fault. I’d been dumb enough to fall for Darina’s trick with the potion, and then I was even dumber when I walked myself into what I should have known was a trap. I just wanted to forget about it. Now I know I was supposed to forget about it all along.’

  My eyes widened, and I thought about everything I knew about the night Dylan was turned. Darina Berry had wanted him to become a vampire – she had some strange notion that her coven would be more likely to accept a vampire than an unempowered witch – but Dylan had told her a very firm no. She wanted Jared to be the one to turn Dylan, because just like Pru, Jared was an exceptionally powerful vampire. He hadn’t sired anyone for a long time, and he didn’t want to sire Dylan. But Darina convinced Jared that Dylan wanted to be turned. It was only when the two men spoke that Jared realised Darina had lied to him. Just when both men were about to wash their hands of her for good, she turned up with a bottle of expensive whiskey, supposedly as a peace offering.

  Dummies that they were, they sat down for a drink with Darina, not knowing that her gift was laced with a potion called A Good Dose of Suggestion. It had hypnotic qualities, making them agree with everything Darina suggested – in fact, she’d been dosing Jared with the same potion for a very long time. They suddenly thought that Dylan becoming a vampire was the best idea in the world, and they began the process. Jared drained Dylan, to the point where Dylan would have to drink his blood, or die. They had truly reached the point of no return. Except by the time they got there, the potion had started to wear off, and they realised they’d been drugged.

  Dylan got his phone call then – his tip-off from Stanley – and instead of doing the sensible thing and ignoring it, and staying so that Jared could complete the process, he had taken off. He swore he’d be back by sunset the next day so Jared could feed him his blood. Instead, he was missing for days. When he did resurface, he was not only a vampire, but one with the dayturner virus. Until now, he’d never told anyone what happened after he left Jared behind.

  As I considered it all, a horrible notion began to form in my mind. ‘Dylan, I don’t know how to put this but … don’t you think it’s all …’

  ‘A bit convenient?’ he finished. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I do. I think it’s very convenient that the tip-off happened to come on the night Jared had already begun to turn me. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Stanley’s diary mentions I had no idea how close I was to some of these people. Until I work some more with Pru, all I have are fragmented nightmares. They might not even be real – I certainly don’t remember Stanley properly. Even though I remember having an informant, I never knew his name. But from that day until this, I’ve believed that it was a set-up. I’ve believed that they got me there and made me a dayturner on purpose. To teach me a lesson. I told you there was a reason why I hated Vlad’s Boys so much. Now you know that reason. And now … now I have to consider that there might have been even more to things than the Vlad’s Boys gang getting revenge on me. I have to consider that Darina might have been involved, too.’

  Greg took a sip of his cola, then shook his head. ‘Yeah, but … Vlad’s Boys are an elitist vampire gang. They kill dayturners because they see them as inferior to them. I sincerely doubt they’d have a witch in charge of their operation.’

  Dylan heaved his shoulders. ‘I dunno, Greg. Until we arrested Miriam for being a member, we also believed that Vlad’s Boys were all boys. Either way, we now know some things for sure. We know Wholesome Holdings are Vlad’s Boys, and that even Deefer referred to his boss as being a witch. And when you translate the rest of this diary, Greg, we might know even more. For now …’ He looked at me. ‘For now I’m going to read the final entry to Ash.’ He took a deep breath, turned the page, and read Stanley’s final entry: