James could hear Lewis chuckle behind him as he finished making a note of the broken streetlights number, sliding his notebook back into his pocket as he turned to face his boss, his features a ghostly glow in the reflection of James' torch beam as the light bounced off the pavement between them.
"It's the third one tonight, sir," he said, defensively.
"No, it's a good idea, letting the council know they're broken," Lewis smiled, teeth white in the darkness, "it's just you tutting every time you see one, sound like a disapproving school ma'am."
"Thank you, sir," James replied dryly.
It had turned into another long day and exhaustion dragged at James, but he also felt more in control than he had for months, years even. Their case was back to being red hot, with the information provided by the three spirits leading them to a suspect, a young man by the name of Shaun Kutty, a recent employee of the Martha House shelter.
A visit to his home had resulted in the gentle questioning of his 89 year old grandmother, who had revealed the less than happy childhood of Kutty at the hands of his alcoholic parents and his disgust at the recent rule changes at the shelter that now offered rehabilitation programs to those with addictions, Kutty had resigned the previous week.
They took a left off St Aldates and walked along the footpath that led to Christ Church Meadow as they made their way to the river.
"Here," Lewis suddenly said to him, nudging his side. In the orange glare of a working street lamp James could see Lewis holding out a chocolate bar.
"Thank you, sir," he said as he took the offered bar, quickly opened it and took a large bite.
"So much for getting you an early night," Lewis uttered as he squinted at his watch.
"Quarter to eleven, sir," James informed him between mouthfuls of chocolate.
It was now Lewis' turn to tut, both of them smiling at the sound.
"I wanted to thank you, sir, for earlier," James said as he swallowed the last mouthful of chocolate and crunched up the wrapper before placing it and his clenched fist into the depths of his coat pocket. "With Innocent," he clarified.
"No need for that, lad," Lewis replied, "Letting Innocent think you got the information from Second-Sight isn't going to do any harm."
Innocent had given James a dressing down after Lewis had revealed that James "had a bit of a talent at Second-Sight" and had come up with the connection from visions of the victims clothing and few personal items. Although Innocent had started off irritated that James had only just revealed that particular magical talent, the telling off had quickly, to James horror and Lewis's amusement, turned to one of almost parental concern and had ended up with him being praised for finally using his magic and finding a new lead.
After leaving the Chief Supers office Lewis had ensured that they both grabbed a plate of shepherd's pie from the canteen. Innocent had conferred with the local homeless charities in the city to try and safeguard those at possible risk from Kutty and the two accomplices the spirits had mentioned but had been unable to give more than descriptions, whereas they had all recognised Kutty from their visits to Martha House
Although Oxford ran a "no-second night" scheme, ensuring that no-one spent more than one night sleeping rough, there were some who were constantly finding themselves on the streets. Either being evicted from homes they had been found due to their behaviour or going on a binge and forgetting where they lived and settling down for the night wherever they found themselves.
Innocent's meeting had resulted in a list of five names, all with a serious alcoholic problem and all of them having registered at Martha House whilst Kutty worked there. Three of them were the murdered victims, one had been found safe and sound in a temporary hostel accommodation and one was still missing and every available officer was out looking for him.
They turned on their torches as they took a right turn and the street lamps and light from the city faded as trees bordered the city side of the narrowing path.
"Best call it a night," Robbie suggested, "could walk right past him and wouldn't know it, we'll have to get…."
"Sir!" James suddenly whispered out, "over there," he pointed towards a nearby copse of trees, his other hand coming up to touch the back of Lewis' shoulder. Lewis suddenly lurched away with a strangled shout, as if he'd received an electric shock. James stumbled backwards in surprise, staring at Lewis in alarm.
"Sir?" he queried with concern.
"Is it still there?" Lewis replied with his own query, staring out into the darkness.
"Yes, sir, I'm sorry sir, it's a spirit," he confirmed, as he watched the apparition filter in and out of the trees, bright against the night, "we've a dead body somewhere…." He trailed off as Lewis took a step towards him and clasped his shoulder, scouring the dark park...
"Touch me like you did before," Lewis said urgently, his hand dropping away from James' shoulder.
"Sir?" James asked in puzzlement.
"Just do it man, before it's too late," Lewis quietly barked back.
Bemused by the older man's request James nevertheless obeyed and touched the back of Lewis' shoulder again, feeling Lewis flinch before looking over at James in awe.
"I see it," Lewis smiled, "I see the spirit, there," he said, as he turned and pointed directly at it.
"But that's…." impossible James was about to reply, but obviously it wasn't. Very little was known about the practice of Necromancy, the truth shrouded in centuries old superstition and fear.
"Is it fading away?" Lewis asked, breaking into James' thoughts.
"Yes, sir, he could have only left his body a few minutes ago, he's passing over to the Forbidden Realm," James explained as they both stood and watched the spirit dwindle away.
"Call it in," Lewis ordered, back to business. "Get a search team and SOCO down here, we'll….," he trailed off as they both turned quickly in the direction of a loud string of expletives that disturbed the night, other less distinct voices rose up before everything became quiet once again.
At Lewis' nod both men quickly headed back up the footpath, James pulled his phone from his coat and dialled the control room, the call swiftly answered, but before he could reply, three figures appeared before them at the crossroad of the path carrying something heavy between them.
"Oi," Lewis called out loudly, "Oxfordshire Police, stay where you…." The figures threw down their burden and scarpered along the path, "…..every bloody time," Lewis swore as he took off after them, James on his heels as he yelled directions and instructions into the phone.
"They're heading for the back of the station, cheeky buggers," Lewis panted out as James pocketed his phone. "They'll have to cut through the Row, cut them off," he ordered as they came out of the park.
James veered off and cut through a deserted car park, scaling a wall to land in the alley that ran behind St Aldates Police Station, he ran up the alley using a wheelie bin to scramble over the brick wall that separated the long defunct alley with Floyds Row, he landed with a grunt and took off up the Row back towards Lewis, who should have appeared by now. His heart pounding in his chest with fear and exertion he rounded the end of Floyds Row and skidded to a halt as he saw Lewis on his knees, bent double, one arm against his stomach, the other trembling as it struggled to hold him up. The three suspects surrounded him, one of them bringing up a baseball bat to strike at the back of Lewis' unprotected head and James knew he was too far away to stop the blow from landing.
With an anguished yell he ran forward a few steps, arms held forward in front of him, palms clenched together, as his magic burned through his limbs in throbbing waves of agony. Necromancy, Pyro, Telekinesis and all the other magic'sdwelling inside him, weaved and mingled together, tearing through his tormented body to burst in iridescent blue pulses from his hands. James cried out as he fought to control the magic, separating it into three streams to hit the suspects directly, the force sending them flying into an ancient boundary wall with bone breaking force to fall forward in unconscious heaps.
James fell to his knees, falling heavily against the side of a building, magic spent, gulping in desperate lungful's of air, fighting to stay conscious as dark spots danced in front of his eyes, his ears roaring with the sound of his own pounding heartbeat.
He jerked as a hand touched his shoulder, another gripping his upper arm as the movement threatened to tumble him face first into the tarmac. He struggled to look up into the concerned face of Lewis who crouched down beside him, the older man's arms going around his shoulders to hug him to his chest.
"It's okay, James," he heard Lewis say over the roaring in his ears, "Even breaths lad, that's right," he coached. "Thank you, James for saving me life," a gentle comforting hand brushed through his hair. "I'll keep you safe, lad," were the last words he heard as he slid into unconsciousness.
"You sure you're up to this, James," Robbie said with concern, as he placed the two mugs of tea on the coffee table, eying the candle set up in the middle of it with disapproval. "You've only been out of the hospital a few days."
"I'm fine, sir," came the confident reply from James, as he waggled his fingers from his slouched position on the sofa, one of the mugs lifting from the table and levitating towards him. With an audible sigh Robbie plucked the mug from the air and handed it to the younger man, receiving a grateful, if somewhat cheeky grin in return.
Robbie had to concede that the lad did look far better than he had for a while. Regular meals had filled out the hollows and sharp lines giving James a far healthier look, the dark circles under his eyes greatly diminishing with regular sleep. But it was the lack of shadows lurking in the depths of James' eyes that told Robbie that the younger man really was on the road to recovery.
Robbie sat down carefully on the sofa next to the lad, so as not to slosh the mug of tea balanced on his chest.
"I promised I'll tell them, sir," James quietly said, avoiding Robbie's gaze as he took a sip of tea.
"Aye, I know," Robbie nodded, "I'm just worried about you holding open a vortex, you haven't done much magic since that night; don't want you having a relapse."
"I cleaned the whole flat without leaving the sofa yesterday, sir," James countered. "Did it in the time it took you to wash the dishes," he added with a smirk.
Robbie returned the smile, "Smart arse."
It had been a week since the night at Floyd Row. Shaun Kutty and his two accomplices, Matthew Jenkins and Reggie Jackson had been remanded in custody three days ago for the murder of the four rough sleepers after a stay in hospital to treat broken limbs and a concussion each.
James had remained unconscious for over 24 hours and had been diagnosed with nervous exhaustion. After three days in the hospital Robbie had taken pity on him and had reassured the doctors that James would be well looked after at home and Robbie would personally ensure that he did nothing but rest and eat balanced meals.
James shifted beside him, sitting up straight and placed his finished mug of tea on the table.
"I wanted to thank you, sir," he suddenly said, "for everything. For believing me about the Priests and for keeping what I did that night out of the reports. I still have no idea how I did it," he added in astonishment.
"Build-up of all that magic, I expect," Robbie guessed. "It had to go somewhere, James," he turned his head to look at the lad. "And it should be me thanking you, if you hadn't done what you did….." Robbie let his words trail off, the pair of them sitting in silence for a moment.
"Did you good though," Robbie commented.
"Sir?"
"Releasing all that magic, you got your control back, haven't you?" Robbie asked. "You're feeling better about it."
James nodded his agreement. "I think sir, that more importantly, having people I can be honest with, be my true self around them, has been more beneficial," Robbie smiled at the pink tinge staining his sergeants' cheeks.
"Laura and I won't betray your trust," he solemnly promised.
Laura Hobson had taken James under her wing, her own Magical power wasn't much stronger than Robbie's but she could conjure and work spells and had started to give James a more formal Magical education, something that the young man was lapping up, even though it already came naturally to him. Robbie wasn't entirely sure that it was Laura's lessons that James' looked forward to but more the fact that for the first time in his life he didn't have to hide his abilities, now performing magic comfortably in front of both of them.
Neither of them had pushed James to use the power of Necromancy, worried that it was too soon after the magical overload and could do the young man more harm, but James had been insistent that he wanted to contact the murder victim's spirits and let them know that they had received justice. That their murderers would be old men themselves before they even became eligible for parole.
More importantly for James he wanted to let them know that their families had been tracked down and all of their bodies had been claimed.
"Let's get this done before Laura finds out," Robbie suggested, picking up James lighter from the table and lighting the candle. "Do you need the lights out?"
"No, I don't think so," James replied. "Just need something to focus on while I make a connection."
Robbie watched as James rubbed his hands nervously down his jean clad thighs, and took a few deep breaths as he prepared to open the vortex.
It was a new beginning for James and if he was honest, for himself too. The lad had given him purpose and direction again and he hoped he had given James the confidence to truly be himself. He gave a start as James grabbed his hand, the world lurching for a moment before his perception changed and he saw the shimmer of the vortex open.
As Robbie was drawn into the magic, he knew that a bigger challenge lay ahead of them, one day soon he and James would have to deal with the Order of Priests and the indiscriminate murder of Necromancers.
One day…
The End