Meyer heaved air into his lungs, his chest tight and his throat dry. Across the room, Wade was striding down the corridor. He had somewhere urgent to go, but there would be no prizes for guessing where.

“I think Mark may have been betrayed.”

“What do you mean he was betrayed?” Ruth said, supporting Meyer's arm before he collapsed back into the chair.

“Mark tried to write something as he died and Wade is about to have any trace of it wiped.”

“We should talk to-”

“The council? Who is left Ruth, who can we trust anymore?” Meyer said. “If we hurry, we can-”

“You are in no fit state to do anything. Look at you, you're sweating as if you'd done an honest days work. You'll kill yourself, stretching your powers like they don't cost you a thing. I won't allow you to, you old fool, even if I have to knock you out and carry you back to the house myself.”

She was right of course. He didn't have it in him to enter another mind, not tonight. His power was depleted, but without knowing what that note said, they had nothing to go on. Wade had won, again.

- Chapter 10 -

Crime Scene

Alex leapt off the couch, dressed and drove faster than was legal through the roads of London, the siren blazing.

There had been another one.

It brought the grand total of murders to eight, at least, that was the running number. By all accounts, the real figure would be higher. Her phone had rung several times before it woke her, too many late nights on the case had begun to take their toll and she had been completely dead to the world when the call came in. The last thing she needed was to look like she was taking a back seat on a new murder.

Turning off High Holborn onto Greys Inn Road, Alex found her destination illuminated in pulsating blue lights. She pulled into the side of the road in front of a patrol car and, flashing her warrant card to the cordon officers at the entrance, continued towards Greys Inn Gardens.

“What we got?” Alex said.

“Looks like the same MO. Body is cut up pretty badly. No ID as of yet,” Drew said.

Drew Mayflower was a DI, the same rank as Alex, although he was tipped to take over as the senior investigator, given that the previous one had just walked out. Alex had been drafted across to the operation six weeks ago, following a reshuffle and a soupçon of nepotism (although she tried to ignore that fact). Serial killers are rare, especially ones acting on this scale, and being on the team of detectives who catch one is good for any career pathway. Not everyone expressed happiness when they had brought her in. Maybe because she didn't look the part: blonde hair, blue eyes, an Oxford education and excellent choice in shoes were not a normal combination for detectives who join the force as a constable and work their way up. Alex knew that wasn't the real reason they disliked her though, but she'd be damned if gossip and snide remarks would drive her out of the unit.

“Who found him?” Alex said.

“Security guard found the victim, called 999 immediately.”

“Cause of death?”

“Throat has been cut. Forensics got here about 15 minutes ago and are setting up. Minerva's CSM on this one and is organising the scene of crime guys now.”

“How big a scene are we looking at?”

“Stretches across Greys Inn gardens, they have set up walkways and are tracing the ingress route.