Alena groaned when she awoke to the sound of her phone ringing. Her tired eyes slowly opened to find her clock reading six o'clock, one hour before her alarm would sound. Somewhat blindly grasping for her phone on the bedside table, Alena's fingers finally found the phone and brought it closer to her. The screen told her that she had a new text which she immediately opened. It was sent from Sherlock and it simply gave a nearby address and told her to come quickly. Alena sighed and slowly got out of bed. If he was asking her to come to the crime scene where the fourth victim had been found, she was not going to be happy. She had never seen a dead body, except when they were presented at wakes in funeral homes, and she had never been to an active crime scene. If Sherlock wanted her there, then it had to be important. Reluctantly she rose from her warm, soft bed and walked into the bathroom to get ready. The sight of her face as she awoke was certainly sobering, making her cringe and look away from the sight of her messy hair, somewhat oily skin, and slightly red eyes. Washing her face and brushing her hair quickly remedied that situation, but it still took a while for her to fully wake up.

Soon she had dressed in her black pleated skirt, violet blouse, and black blazer before slipping on the black heels she wore to work. She had a feeling that she would not have the time to run back to the flat after visiting the crime scene to get ready so it was better that she was ready for work so she could instantly head over afterwards. Slipping on her black coat, she grabbed her shoulder bag and walked out the door. At that moment she wasn't starving but she knew she would be by the time her shift began later that day, so she made a note to stop by the cafe and grab something quick before going to the library.

Looking at the address again, Alena realized that it was only a few blocks away from her flat. This little realization sent a small chill coursing down her spine; the killer had struck fairly close to her home. As she walked, Alena kept having to push her long hair out of her face whenever the wind passed through it. This was the reason she never cared to keep her hair down because it would always end up looking messy very quickly, but in her rush to get out the door she didn't even pause to work with her hair. Then again, maybe Sherlock would notice since he said she looked better with her hair down. She smiled a little as she thought back to his compliment the night before, wondering if he really did find her to be a beautiful young woman.

Alena arrived at the address which indeed turned out to be a crime scene. With all the police cars and tape marking off the area, the awful feeling set in that she would be viewing a dead body. She approached the tape where a woman stood, meeting her gaze she turned to her.

"You must be Alena Van Buren," she said.

Alena nodded. "Yes."

The woman raised the tape for her to walk under. "I was told you'd be coming. Sergeant Sally Donovan," she introduced.

Alena shook her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Donovan began escorting her to the entrance and pulled out her walkie-talkie. "Let Freak know that his little girlfriend is here."

Alena raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, 'Freak'?"

Donovan snorted. "Sherlock Holmes. He is a freak, wouldn't you say?"

Stopping in her tracks, Alena looked at her confused. "Forgive me but first of all, I am not his girlfriend. Secondly, he is not a freak."

"No? You don't find him odd?" she inquired.

"He may be unusual in some respects, but to call someone a freak in this day and age is a little bit harsh don't you think? Besides, I'm sure you have noticed that he is observant and capable of providing details which some might dismiss. Does that not earn him some respect?"

Donovan smirked. "Well he gets off on this kind of stuff. But one day showing up won't be enough. One day we will find a body which Sherlock Holmes will have put there because he is a psychopath."

Now Alena was getting annoyed. "Being a sergeant, I'm sure you get plenty of murders and crimes which need solving, so Sherlock will always be needed. I highly doubt that he would go out of his way to produce a crime for him to solve. Crime will always be present in our world. And growing up with a well respected psychologist father I have learned all about mental conditions. Sherlock Holmes does not fit the criteria for psychopath, no more the definition of sociopath. I would be careful in your use of definitions and labeling individuals, Sergeant," she retorted.

Donovan chuckled. "Is that right? Well maybe you should have your father examine and diagnose him."

Alena's fists clenched and she exhaled a breath of anger trying to let go of her brewing fury. "I'm afraid that can never be arranged. My father was killed when I was sixteen."

Hearing those words made Donovan speechless, her mouth opened to say something but no words came out.

"I wouldn't say very much, Donovan," Sherlock said as he walked toward them. "I think you've done quite enough."

Alena felt much better seeing him, relieved she didn't have to carry this conversation on anymore. Sherlock gently took her arm and led her inside.

"You made a rather magnificent speech there," he noted.

Alena rolled her eyes. "You're welcome."

Sherlock looked at her with sincerity in his eyes. "Actually I'm quite serious. I haven't seen Sergeant Donovan quite so speechless for a while."

She tried to suppress a smile but failed at it horribly. "Thanks. So what am I doing here? This is your forte, Sherlock."

"Actually, our worlds have collided in this case," he replied. "The fourth victim was at the book fair, but she was killed inside her flat."

Alena sighed. "Dear God. You were right about him following a victim to their home."

Sherlock stepped inside a room where John stood with Lestrade and another man whom Alena had never met before. There on the ground was the body of a woman in what looked to be in her mid-thirties. The body had a sheet over it completely but the head was exposed. She was glad she was not seeing the actual wounds, that would make her utterly uncomfortable.

"Hello, Alena," Lestrade greeted. "Oh this is Anderson, he's on forensics."

Anderson looked at Alena as she entered the room, a little too closely though. He looked at her from head to foot, examining her with curious eyes.

"Nice to meet you," she said politely.

He grinned a bit. "Oh the pleasure is mine," he replied.

"Yes, evidently a little too much pleasure," Sherlock growled. "I would divert your eyes elsewhere if I were you."

Anderson looked at Sherlock, clearly annoyed. "Are you threatening me?"

Sherlock's gaze turned deadly. "Absolutely, for if you don't I will have to do something which would not be pleasant to do in front of a lady, which you should treat her as such and not as some object to be gaping at."

Alena's eyes widened and her jaw dropped a bit. She had noticed Anderson's unusual gaze upon her and it had made her uncomfortable, especially after what occurred the night before. Seeing Sherlock defend her in such a way made her feel not only respected but happy knowing Sherlock cared about her.

Lestrade had noticed Anderson's wandering eyes and took Sherlock's side in this case. "Outside, Anderson. Now," he ordered.

Casting Sherlock a nasty glare, Anderson retreated from the room.

"My apologies, Alena," Lestrade said.

She shook her head. "I'm fine, really. Thank you. So, is anyone going to fill me in on why I am here?"

John pulled out his notes. "Well apparently the killer claimed his fourth victim after all. Alyce Carlyle, a rare book dealer."

Alena blinked in surprise. "Alyce Carlyle?"

John looked up when he heard her astonished tone. "You knew her?"

She shook her head. "I never met her, but she was on a list of names we had for book dealers at the library. Sometimes people will come in wanting to know the value of a book they own, but as a librarian it goes against the rules of my job. We refer people to a few book dealers who can make such appraisals, and she was on the list. I remember her name."

He nodded. "Well she did attend the book fair last night, and it would seem that she fit the profile of a woman who loved books recreationally and professionally."

Alena sighed and shook her head. "So he followed her and killed her in her own home, surrounded by the very things she loved," gesturing to the piles of books stacked around them.

"Throwing us off once again," John said.

"And this time he didn't leave a note on her," Lestrade commented.

Alena turned to him, "What?"

He nodded. "No note was left on the body. We've been searching."

Sherlock groaned. "No there has to be one. Somewhere in here there has to be one, he must have left something. The note is critical to his method, he must have hidden it this time."

Immediately he began looking around the victim and amongst the vast collection of books. John and Lestrade looked around as well. Alena looked around the bookshelf at the incredible number of titles and styles of books Carlyle collected all these years. That was when she noticed a book which lay open on the shelf and had been marked. There was a page which had text circled in something red...it had to be blood.

"Sherlock..." she said.

He turned to her as she pointed to the open book. Sherlock took hold of the open book and looked at what she saw. "Brilliant, Alena."

John and Lestrade looked at the sight as well.

"So he left the message in a passage from a book this time," John said aloud. "Circled in the victim's blood."

Alena began reading the single line aloud. "'And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming'. Edgar Allan Poe's 'The Raven'."

Sherlock looked up from the book, perplexed. "He's changed his approach again, but this time he leaves us a completely different kind of clue. There has to be a hint in here somewhere as to where he will strike next."

John shrugged. "Some sort of Poe event?"

Sherlock thought it over. "I haven't the faintest. Alena, you're a fan of Edgar Allan Poe. You own the complete tales and poems, and it is well read judging by the amount of wear on the copy. Is there anything you know of which would be a large event relating to the author?"

She began thinking about anything she may have heard or read about but shook her head. "No, I can't say there is to my knowledge. If there was one, I would have probably kept a note about it. As you said, I am a fan of his."

Pulling out his phone, he began running a search online for any upcoming event relating to Poe. The frustration on his face showed that he was not getting anywhere with the results. "It has to be something else."

Alena looked at her watch, realizing that time was running short for her to get to work. "I would love to stay and help in any way I can, but I really should get going."

Lestrade nodded. "We understand, thanks for stopping by and for locating the message."

She nodded. "Oh I'm sure you would've found it without me at some point. I wish I could do more."

John smiled. "Oh if we need your assistance, you know we'll get in touch with you."

"Of course and if I have any down time I can try and find out about any events which might fit the theme of Poe."

"That would be fantastic," John replied.

Alena turned to say her farewell to Sherlock, but he was sort of staring off into space, obviously processing the quote in his mind, trying to figure out how it connected to an upcoming event.

"See you later, Sherlock," she said.

"Mm," was the only reply she received from him.

Alena walked out of the flat and past the tape to grab a taxi to work. Getting one she climbed in and began texting Sherlock as she rode to the library.

If there is anything I can help with, do not hesitate to text me.

AVB

Leaning back against the seat of the taxi Alena watched the world go past her window as people began heading to work for the day. She tried to relax after witnessing the dead body and knowing how close it was to her home. Now all that remained was trying to figure out what the killer meant by using that Edgar Allan Poe quote. Of all the notes left behind, this one was the most perplexing. None of them had been direct quotes until now.

News of the murder of Alyce Carlyle quickly spread through the library before she even walked in the door after stopping at the cafe. Reports had been posted online and all the librarians were in shock. No one could believe that she had fallen victim to this murderer. Alena kept quiet about the whole thing, not wanting to draw attention to herself just because she had witnessed the body.

"I can't believe she was murdered," Emily said.

Alena nodded. "I know. This guy is getting harder to catch."

Emily looked at her with concern. "Do you think he'll ever be caught?"

She had to smile at that. "You know I asked Sherlock the exact same thing last night. He is confident that this guy will be caught."

"I hope so. Did you hear that the note is now a quote from 'The Raven'?" she asked.

Alena nodded. "Yeah, I know which one. It makes no sense because there is nothing coming up which revolves around Edgar Allan Poe. I've even checked."

Emily shrugged. "I have no idea either. The only thing I have been paying attention to is the big concert tonight. My cousin and I were going to go together but she came down with the flu so I'll just have to go alone, which really is disappointing."

She turned to her friend. "Oh, which band?"

Right after work Alena rushed home to change. She couldn't believe the good luck she had that day when Emily told her that the band she was seeing that night was actually one of Alena's favorite bands of all time. This alternative band from Finland produced albums which Alena loved and only wished she could see them in concert but they never toured the United States, only Europe. Now for one night only, this band would be playing in London and Emily got extremely good seats. Hearing that Alena was a fellow fan, the friends immediately made plans for Emily to pick her up and take her to the arena.

Alena quickly made a small dinner as there wouldn't be much time for her and Emily to pick up dinner before the concert. Upon finishing she dressed in her black skinny jeans with a studded belt, a silver sequin top, her black heeled boots and her blazer. Tying her hair back in a ponytail, she began putting on her makeup, which ended up being a bolder look than she usually wore. Adding eyeliner, a darker eye shadow and garnet red lipstick, she was dressed for the occasion as the band played pretty dark music with equally dark themes. It had been ages since she had gone to a concert, so this was something worth going all out for.

Still having a few minutes before Emily was scheduled to arrive, Alena decided to stop by John and Sherlock's flat to see how everything was going with the case. Neither one of them had texted her that day with any updates or requests for her help.

Alena practically skipped up the stairs and into the sitting room. "Hello boys," she greeted happily.

John looked over at her. "Hello Alena, my goodness that is not an outfit I have seen you wear before."

Sherlock was on his laptop when she came in. He glanced over at her outfit before quickly diverting his eyes back to the screen. "Oh good God," he mumbled in response.

Her smile widened so much her cheeks began to blush. "Well it isn't every day that I get to go to a rock concert."

Sherlock scoffed. "Boring."

She cast an annoyed glance in his direction. "Oh do tell, how is a concert boring?"

"Blaring loud music, can't hear anyone around you, drunk idiots, musicians who cannot sing, shall I go on?"

Alena shook her head. "Please. You can't convince me to skip this one. Emily had tickets for this concert and her cousin had to cancel. She never realized that I was a huge fan, so she asked me to go with. I have never seen them before, they never tour in North America, so this is the chance I have wanted to have for ages."

John smiled. "Well I'm sure you'll have a great time."

"It should be amazing, you have no idea how excited I am. By the way anything new on that quote?" she asked.

John shook his head. "Nothing yet. We've been searching all day trying to figure out what it means in relation to an event, but this one is difficult."

She nodded. "Yeah I even tried looking as well, but same thing. Well at least there's a week before he strikes again so there is time."

Sherlock looked up from the screen. "Unless he is changing his approach again."

John turned to him. "You mean he might change the timing of the crime? But he's been doing it once a week."

"Exactly. Maybe this pattern is no longer good enough for him."

"But still, there's nothing relating to Edgar Allan Poe between now and next week. We've checked that."

Sherlock groaned and stood up beginning to pace back and forth. At that moment, Alena received a text from Emily telling her that she had arrived. Alena smiled and slipped her phone back in her pocket.

"Well that's Emily so I better go. I will see you both later, good luck. And John, good luck dealing with him," Alena said gesturing to Sherlock.

John chuckled. "Thanks, have fun."

Alena walked down the stairs and left the flat. Hearing the door close, Sherlock walked to the window where he stood watching as Alena got into the car stopped outside on Baker Street. He could see Emily's face through the windshield. John noticed how Sherlock was watching Alena depart and looked at him questioningly.

"Something wrong?"

Sherlock sighed, he could not shake a strange concern he had for Alena's safety that night. "Nothing, I'm fine."

John's brow furrowed but he went back to reading the newspaper.

Hours later the two men had made zero progress trying to figure out what the quote translated to in reference to an event. John was getting worn out by Sherlock's complaints and near constant pacing. He thought that Sherlock might crack he was getting so frustrated. Soon they heard someone running up the stairs. Lestrade entered the room.

"So, got anything?" he asked.

John shook his head. "Nothing yet. This one is completely different."

He nodded and noticed that Alena wasn't with them. "Oh I kind of expected that Alena would be helping you."

"Nope. Turns out she decided to go to a concert tonight with a friend. She was pretty excited by it."

Lestrade nodded. "Oh I heard that there was going to be a big concert tonight. We had to send more security down to the arena just as a precaution. You know how rowdy rock concerts can get. And I hear that the Dreaming Demons can really get a crowd going."

Sherlock's eyes snapped up from his laptop. "Say that again," he demanded.

Lestrade looked at him quizzically. "What? We had to send more security down to the Dreaming Demons co-"

Sherlock's hands slammed down on the table. "He DID change his approach!"

John looked at him. "What are you talking about?"

Sherlock's eyes were wild, clearly he had a revelation. "Dreaming Demons, 'And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming', don't you see? He gave us the exact event in plain sight! Instead of waiting a week, he's decided to kill again much sooner than anticipated! Oh he thinks he's clever, but he made it too easy!"

Lestrade and John looked at one another in shock.

"How did we not notice that before?" Lestrade asked.

"Because you're an idiot," Sherlock said.

Lestrade cast an annoyed glance at Sherlock as he was putting on his coat. "Wait a second you didn't even know it was this concert!"

Sherlock smirked. "But you knew the name of the band playing tonight, and you didn't make the connection."

Before Lestrade could say anything in response, he stopped himself, knowing there was truth in that.

John stood up quickly. "Wait, if the killer is planning to strike at the concert tonight, that means Alena is in danger and she has no idea!"

Sherlock finished putting on his scarf. "That is why we must hurry and ensure that she doesn't become his next victim."

As the three men descended the staircase, John tried calling Alena's phone which kept ringing. "Damn, she's not answering!" he said as they all got into Lestrade's car.

"She wouldn't," Sherlock commented. "The concert is still going on, she would never hear her phone over all of the noise."

"Well we have to hurry, the concert is scheduled to wrap up in a few minutes," Lestrade said as he began driving them to the arena.

"And then all of the fans will stream out of the building and the killer will have his pick of the lambs for the slaughter," Sherlock said calmly.

Thank you to everyone who has been following and commenting on my story! I really appreciate all the feedback!