Dust (Bones, Ashes and Dust Trilogy #3) Read online

  'We need to go back to Hass' apartment,' he said.

  'I guess so.' But what would we be walking into? Would Sophia still be there? What if she'd already gone and we had to force Hass to tell us the truth? I stepped from one foot to the other. I had more pressing issues first though.

  'What's up?'

  'I'm sorry but I really need to go to the loo.'

  We were around twenty minutes from Madrid when the dark clouds tore open and the rain crashed down. Josh tried to shield me from the brunt of it, but I could tell he was finding it hard to fly with the rain saturating his feathers. The rain was doing little to improve his mood.

  When we neared Hass' apartment, I could see that the block had been sealed off with yellow tape, and there were police cars blocking the road, their blue lights flashing. This was a complication we didn't need.

  We landed at the back of the throng of people that had gathered outside the police cordon. No one saw us, no one cared about two strangers stepping out of thin air, not when there were other things to gossip about. Josh let his wings dissolve into nothing. A few stray black feathers drifted to the floor.

  'This doesn't look good,' I said.

  A tight knot of anxiety twisted inside my stomach. He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd. There were several officers standing next to the tape, dressed in navy blue and black with pistols at their sides.

  'It looks serious,' I said, dropping his hand. Something caught my eye on the floor. 'Hang on,' I said, 'what's this?' I stooped down and picked up a discarded newspaper from the floor. It was wet and covered in dirt, but I could still make out the headline: “Ex-Nazi, hiding in Madrid, Found Murdered.”

  What had Sophia done?

  I gently peeled the paper apart and began to read:

  'Friedrich Hass, a former SS Officer and member of the infamous Werwolfs, was found dead in his apartment in the centre of Madrid yesterday by his nurse. Police are treating the death as suspicious.

  Hass, living under the name of Joseph Vass, had managed to evade Nazi hunters for over seventy years.

  One source told Madrid News that Hass had links to several criminal organizations, and was involved in the sale of stolen artwork and relics. The most controversial were the pieces stolen from the Jews in the Second World War.

  The police have called a press conference at 8.30am, local time.'

  I looked up from the paper. 'Do you think it was Sophia that killed him?'

  Josh shrugged. 'I don't know. She did lie to us…'

  'But that doesn't mean she's capable of murder.' Did it? I didn't trust her, but murder?

  'No, but...'

  It wasn't looking good, I had to admit. Why had she been thrown from Heaven? Were we missing a piece of the puzzle?

  I glanced up at Hass's penthouse suite, the blue lights flashing across the sash windows. Something didn't sit well with me. Something was off.

  But my gut instincts were telling me she hadn't done it, that we couldn't have been that blind.

  'I don't think she killed him,' I said. I folded up the paper and dropped it into the nearest bin.

  Josh didn't question me. Instead, he said, 'To be sure, we need to get into Hass' apartment.'

  'His apartment? It's crawling with police! Besides, if the spear was here then Sophia's probably already taken it and run.' How were we going to get past all the police? And they had guns!

  'Yeah, but maybe there's a clue, something she's left behind. We have to check it out, see if the spear was there, to prove or disprove Sophia's involvement in Hass' murder. Maybe there are answers in there, maybe not. We won't know until we look. What time is it?'

  I looked at my watch and tapped the face of it; after our swim in the lake I didn't know whether it was working anymore. 'Eight twenty-two. I think. What if Sophia did do this? What then?'

  We stood and observed the scene as news crews and local journalists jostled for position at the edge of the cordon. A female police officer was in deep conversation with a guy holding an iPad. He was tapping at the tablet as she spoke. She was gesticulating wildly and looked irritated.

  There were several other officers on the scene, some by the front door searching residents and asking for I.D., others were on guard, stationed around the building's exterior, and four scene of crime officers dressed head-to-toe in white overalls. There was too much activity going on outside the front of the building, and no safe way of negotiating our way through it.

  'Come on,' said Josh, grabbing my hand.

  'Where are we going?' I asked as he pulled me through the crowd.

  'Inside.'

  We stopped outside Hermes, a fashion boutique. It looked empty, although all the interior lights were switched on.

  Josh opened the glass door. Warmth flooded out, along with the smell of peony and orange blossom. He pulled me through the store - past racks of designer handbags and scarves, leather couches and stylish mannequins covered in expensive garments - and out through the back of the shop and into the large car park that serviced the shops and the entire apartment block.

  Satisfied there was no one around, we made our way over to the emergency steps that spiralled up to Hass' penthouse. We climbed up to Hass' large balcony, edged by glass panels. There was a small patio table, two comfy chairs and a variety of potted plants. Two large lemon trees sat in large terracotta pots either side of a pair of elegant French doors leading into the bedroom.

  Josh tried the chrome handles just in case, but the doors were locked. He slipped off his jacket, wrapped it around his arm and punched the glass. I winced as the glass shattered. At first, it didn't fall from the frame, so he punched it again, and this time it fell down onto the wooden decking like rain.

  'You up for a little breaking and entering?' he asked, unwrapping his jacket from around his arm.

  No, I wasn't, but I followed him anyway. 'It looks like it,' I said.

  He slipped his jacket back on, then reached inside the door, found the key in the lock, and twisted. It clicked open. He turned the handle and pushed it open.

  We stepped inside, glass crunching under our feet. I looked around, scanning the bedroom for any clue, anything that could help us. There was a large cubist canvas hanging over the bed, a woman's angular body holding a violin painted in muted hues of greys and silver.

  I was tense, uncomfortable, despite my earlier bravado.

  'Picasso,' I said, looking at the painting with my mouth wide open, 'it looks like a Picasso....'

  The room smelled of flowers and dust and had an unaired smell about it, mixed with chlorine and decongestant. There were several glass vases of crimson roses, orchids, and lilies dotted around the room. The antique mahogany bed was decorated with large swirls of what looked like vine leaves and it was draped in layers of satin and real fur, probably mink or maybe wolf. Persian rugs were arranged over the dark oak floor and a polished Grandfather clock ticked time away from the corner of the room.

  I sighed. 'It doesn't seem fair,' I said, 'all this wealth. The life he must have led off the stolen art and money, and all hidden in plain view. A life built upon evil and lies and -'

  'Shush,' said Josh. 'She's here.'

  'Sophia?'

  'Yes. I can hear her. She'll know we're here too. We need to be careful. She could be dangerous.'

  We left the bedroom quietly, Josh in front of me.

  The front door to the apartment was open. I could just make out the shadow of a figure standing next to the door; a police guard. Voices drifted in from outside.

  'She's in the living room,' he whispered, 'stay behind me, and be careful.'

  We walked into Hass' living room. It was now like a war zone. Hass' weapon collection, coloured pieces of shredded paintings, broken figurines and slithers of glass were scattered across the floor. The diamond covered skull grimaced from a pile of broken statues. The Van Gogh had slash marks zig-zagging across the canvas.

  The curtains were partly drawn. A sliver of miserable daylight cut throu
gh the gloom. Sophia was sitting on the floor, her back against the wall, her eyes fixed upon the sofa, on the spot where Hass had sat, laughing at us, only two days earlier. He wasn't laughing now; his body had been removed and all that was left of him was his outline burnt upon the sofa in black. The air smelled of burnt fabric and meat.

  I slipped around Josh, glass and ceramic crunching under my feet.

  'Evie!' he hissed, stepping forward to stop me. I shook him off and continued over to Sophia, who was hunched up, her arms wrapped around her legs.

  She looked up at me. Her eyes were red, her face pale. 'I didn't do it,' she whispered, 'I didn't kill him.'

  And for some reason, I believed her.

  I stooped in front of her. 'What happened?'

  Sophia looked straight into my eyes. 'I don't know. I didn't kill him,' she repeated, grabbing my hand, 'you have to believe me.'

  Josh moved forward.

  I held my hand up, to stop him. 'It's okay,' I said. I knew she wasn't going to hurt me.

  'Is it? She left us to die.'

  'No,' said Sophia, looking at me with tear filled eyes, 'No. I didn't.'

  'Yes, you did. The tunnel collapsed -'

  'I left you, yes, but I didn't want you dead.'

  'I don't believe you,' Josh snapped.

  'I didn't. I....'

  'What happened here?' I asked, again.

  'And I didn't kill Hass. The Spear was here. I came back, but it was gone….'

  'The Spear was here and you led us off on some wild goose chase? Why would you do that?' I asked, my voice calm and unsurprisingly lacking anger, 'we could've died in those tunnels.'

  Sophia sighed. She closed her eyes and rested the back of her head against the wall. A tear made a track down her cheek.

  'This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't supposed to happen.'

  'Why did you do it?' Josh asked. He was unmoved by her tears.

  She opened her eyes and looked up at Josh, more tears spilling down her face. 'Because I didn't trust you.'

  'Because you didn't trust us? And yet you're the one who betrayed us.'

  'I don't trust anyone when it comes to the Spear. I lost it. It was my responsibility to find it.' She rammed the back of her head against the wall. 'And now....'

  'And now?' I asked.

  'It's been missing for so long. I almost had it….'

  'It was definitely the real spear?'

  'Yes.'

  'Are you sure?' Josh asked.

  She nodded. 'The moment I saw it in his cabinet, I knew it was the real one. It had my initials on it, and the little details only I knew existed. It was definitely the one.'

  Anger flashed through Josh. He punched the wall with his fist. It went straight through the plaster, making a hole. I didn't like this side of him; the anger.

  'Why?' He spun around on his heels. 'Why didn't you tell us, Sophia, why?'

  I stood up. 'Who did this then?' I asked, gesturing at the mess. 'And where is the spear now?'

  We all guessed the answer to that, but none of us spoke his name.

  'Blame me for losing the spear –'

  'Oh, we do,' Josh snapped.

  'But I didn't kill Hass.'

  'Really? Are we supposed to believe you? After everything?' he asked.

  'I just wanted to find it, to right my wrongs. And now I'll be exiled, made an Outcast…' she let her voice drift off.

  'I believe you,' I said. I wrapped my arms around myself. I turned to Josh, my head tilted, and said, 'I believe her.' Even though, I didn't know why I should.

  'I'm sorry,' said Sophia, 'I am so sorry. I hate being a fallen angel. I hate it! I just wanted to be the one to find it.

  'Really? It wasn't so long ago you didn't trust her,' he asked.

  'I still don't,' I said, 'but, I don't think she killed Hass either.'

  'I hope you're right.'

  'I tricked you into going to Poland knowing that the spear was here, but I didn't kill Hass. I didn't. That's the truth.'

  There was a loud bang. And voices. The thumping of footsteps on wooden floorboards.

  'Police!' snarled Sophia, jumping up from the floor in one quick, fluid movement.

  'Shit!' hissed Josh. 'We need to get out of here.'

  He strode over to the window and threw open the curtains. The police news conference was over. The television crews were packing up. We didn't have much time.

  'Come on, we'll have to go the way we came in.' We raced back into the bedroom, to the open door to the balcony. There were footsteps on the metal steps outside.

  Josh slumped forwards and held on to the door frame as the pain rocketed through his body. His wings bloomed into view, black and majestic. He flung his arms around me and got ready to launch us off the balcony and into the sky.

  'I can't fly,' said Sophia.

  'I'll come back for you,' he said, but I could tell he really didn't want to.

  'No,' said Sophia, looking at the door, 'you go. I can look after myself. I might be fallen but I'm not weak. I'll meet you at the car. It's on the corner of Calle de Castello and Calle de Juan Bravo.'

  'Okay, hold on,' he said to me before he launched us into the outside world. We didn't look back at Sophia.

  Beneath us, police were piling up the metal steps to the balcony. They didn't see us, cloaked by Death's invisibility.

  Maybe we wouldn't see Sophia again. We flew on, unsure of our next move.

  Chapter Ten

  We found the jeep parked outside an expensive Tapas bar a few blocks away. There was a chalkboard menu outside boasting chorizo with red wine and grilled sweet potato. My stomach groaned with hunger at the thought of it. I felt like I hadn't eaten in days.

  It wasn't long before Sophia joined us, rubbing her wrists with a wide grin on her face. I wasn't about to ask what she was so pleased about, especially after the stunt she'd pulled. I wanted to forget about what had happened at the tunnel. And I wanted to forget about Hass. I believed Sophia when she said she hadn't murdered him, but what if I was wrong? Sometimes, I felt like I was going crazy.

  But then, Hass had got what he deserved, hadn't he? So why did I feel so creeped out about the way he'd died?

  We jumped in the car and set off, for location unknown, but keen to put as many miles as we could between us and Madrid, and Hass' murder.

  The car was swaying. I was so tired. I was struggling to keep my eyes open. Silence fell upon us. It was a tense, angry silence that hung around us like thick fog.

  My mind was suddenly awake, but my eyes were still closed. I must have fallen to sleep again. I was aware that the car had stopped. There were voices; Josh and Sophia. I didn't want to open my eyes, to face the day, the crap. I was so, so tired. My muscles ached, my neck throbbed. I remained still, listening to their conversation. I didn't understand most of it. I think, even if I had been fully awake, I would have struggled to understand, with words and ideas being thrown around that I had never heard before. Finally, when they started talking about Veining, I'd had enough.

  'What the hell is Veining?' I asked, reluctantly opening my eyes. Sophia was still in the driver's seat, her seatbelt unfastened, her body turned towards Josh who was sitting in the passenger seat. The tension, at least, seemed to have eased.

  Josh turned to me and smiled. 'Ah, finally, you're awake, he said, 'Veining is a possible way of finding Hyperion.'

  Inwardly I groaned. Fantasy had invaded my reality again. I was too tired to deal with Hyperion. Too tired to deal with the Apocalypse.

  Part of me wanted to go back home.

  Why had I come to this fight? What did I have to offer?

  'Remember what I said about all angels having their own music. A celestial tune which is unique to the individual angel, like a fingerprint?'

  'Yes, I remember.' I was a bit snappy with my answer. I cringed inside. Why was I in such a bad mood? 'I remember,' I said, a little calmer.

  'Well, veining is a way of finding another angel by following that angel'
s individual tune. It's a bit like meditating. You concentrate on the music, blocking out all other noise, and slowly the music turns into a visible thread which you can follow.'

  'Okay, I get it.' I think.

  'But there's a problem,' said Sophia. 'Hyperion's signature tune has been damaged by his evil deeds, the murders, the disgusting experiments he's carried out on himself….'

  'And I don't know if I'll be able to find his music, it might've changed way beyond my recognition.'

  'And I haven't seen him, or heard his new celestial music, since he's...changed,' said Sophia, 'so I don't know what to focus on to find him either.'

  'But it's worth a go?' I asked.

  'Yeah,' said Sophia. 'We've got nothing to lose so….'

  Josh shrugged. 'I'm going to try. It would've been easier if I had a feather of his or something like that to lock on to, but I don't so we're going to have to wing it.'

  'And if you fail?'

  'I don't know,' he said.

  'And if it works?'

  'We find him and we get the Spear back,' said Sophia.

  And then what? I thought. But really I didn't want an answer. I didn't want to think about it.

  'So, you two seem to have worked things out?'

  Sophia fidgeted in her seat.

  'We've come to an understanding,' said Josh.

  'Can we trust you?' I asked Sophia.

  She looked over at me, her brown eyes locking onto mine. 'Yes,' she said. She opened the car door and the cool air drifted inside.

  I smiled at Josh then looked out of the window. The sun was igniting the ochre earth with gold.

  I stifled a yawn.

  Sophia climbed out of the car, as Josh asked,'Why don't you get some more sleep?'

  'No, I'm okay.'

  Josh got out of the car and strode over to Sophia. He was strong, filling up any space he entered with his presence. And she, she was gorgeous and tall, and sinewy. I tried to ignore the pang of jealousy flickering inside me as the two angels prepared to do amazing stuff that the weak human couldn't.

  I watched them hold hands. It wasn't romantic. They both looked awkward, standing face to face in silence.