Chapter Ten: The Theatrics of Mechanical Minds
"Here's the location that I came up with," I said to Sherlock as I tossed a map onto his lap. It was nearing night, and I had spent the day thinking up places where my friend could be hidden. That had gone on until a text from a restricted number popped up on my phone. It listed a street address and was signed with "Have fun, Raven Queen." I did not pretend to understand what it meant, but I was obviously needed there, even if it was the most obvious trap in the universe.
"And you found this how?" he questioned as I shut the door.
"I, unlike you, actually do things with my spare time."
It was an abandoned warehouse that the address belonged to, and I groaned internally. It was almost too cliché to handle, even for a psychopathic mass murderer who was wanted in multiple countries. He clearly had a taste for the dramatic, which I normally would have admired if it were not for the decrepit state of the building.
"Ah, you're here," Sherlock said to Lestrade. The grey-haired man had been leaning up against the side of the building, but came over to the pair of us as we approached him.
"Well, it can't possibly get stranger, and having a Holmes sibling in my debt had to be a good thing," he replied. I laughed; it appeared that my family had built quite the reputation in London.
The sun was setting as we entered; the last rays of light framed our shadows like an explosion behind us. I shivered subconsciously, remembering my cases in the FBI. Things like these had the potential to go horribly wrong, especially when there were four of us and we knew nothing of our opponents. At least, I knew nothing of them. Sherlock seemed to know more than he was letting on, and John Watson undoubtedly knew whatever Sherlock did.
The inside of the warehouse was blanketed in dust. A distinct set of footprints, of a size that did not bode well for any adversaries, led across the room and through a doorway.
"It's a trap," Lestrade stated. I snorted.
"Of course it is, which means we spring the trap. Demetria's in here somewhere, and I am getting her out," I stated before following the trail. Sherlock sighed and started after me, and Lestrade and John had no choice but to follow.
The footprints, which I judged by the stride to belong to a man about six and a half feet tall, led straight to a metal staircase. It stretched up to another floor, the ceiling of which was lost in shadow. I sighed and began to ascend, carefully listening for any footprints besides the three sets behind me.
"Raven?" The voice came from a room above me, and as I heard the hesitant syllables I broke into a run. Sensing my hurry, the other three followed.
"Demetria!" I cried, relieved. The room that the voice came from was off to one side of my current position, and I threw it open. My caution went along with it as I saw my friend pacing the room, eyes wide and fearful. She threw her arms around me as I met her gaze.
"He said you were coming, but I didn't believe it." Her voice was muffled against my shoulder
I pulled away. "Who? Who said it?" I asked as she and I stepped from the room.
"A man. He called my phone; I never saw him. Someone attacked me from behind, and I woke up about an hour ago here," she said, talking fast as she could. "He just said that he wanted you to notice, and that if I went missing, you would notice."
"Rather dramatic way to get someone's attention," Sherlock commented. John glared at him and Lestrade muffled an annoyed sigh.
"Yes, but I somehow don't think he cares, Sherlock," I stated. "Now can we go?"
So the five of us left, the warehouse decaying into dust behind us, and the doors of my mind palace opened wide for me.
She had fled her family merely weeks ago, giving up the people who loved her because she could not, would not fit in to them and their ordinary society. Raven had left them behind because she had never fit in and at least she had a chance to make a name for herself in the city she dwelt in, with her last year of high school almost at its close. She knew where she was going afterwards, and it was no shock to her that within a week of arriving, she had come to the police and they had begun using her as a consultant.
Seventeen years had passed from her birth, and there had not been a single one in which society had taken her existence and let it be, so she retreated from humans and spent her time in police stations, bookstores, and libraries, including that of glass windows and stone walls which resided in her new home.
The pale, dark-haired girl was sitting in that selfsame library, a book occupying the table before her. Next to it, a smaller book was open; her finger ran down the entries as she searched for an unfamiliar word. Finding it, she turned back to the book before her, all of which was written in Greek.
She looked up as a man passed by, the only other person in her section. He was young, about 19. Dark hair, darker eyes. Pale and as tall as the girl he was passing, if not an inch or two taller. Tucked beneath his arm was the twin to her own book, in the same language as hers. He seemed to notice as well, as his eyes flicked over the pages of her book, taking in both the title and the language.
"The Iliad. Isn't that a bit advanced for your age?" he questioned, speaking in an odd, lilting accent. She filed it away in her mind for further reference.
"I could ask the same thing about you and The Odyssey," Raven shot back. The young man laughed, and it somehow seemed unhinged.
"When you're a genius, you learn not to mind," he replied, still grinning.
"I should know; I am one myself," the seventeen-year-old finished quietly. The man gave her a long, searching look. He ended his gaze abruptly and gave her a small smile, like he knew something she didn't.
"Happy reading," he said, before vanishing amongst towering shelves, the original Greek translation of Homer's The Odyssey still tucked beneath a skinny arm sheathed in the sleeve of a suit. The girl frowned and turned back to her story.
My eyes widened imperceptibly as I sat up straighter. It was one of my earlier memories after I left, and I had all but forgotten it.
"He's about your height but seemed taller. Dark brown hair and these odd, red-brown eyes. Pale skin. Always wore suits, strangely enough," Sherlock had said. It was the same as the man from the library twelve years ago, exactly the same. I was not a new target for his mind games; he had only just begun to actually focus on me rather than either of the older Holmes brothers. He had targeted me years ago with the brutal, signed murders. And with me in London and him in hiding, I had just opened myself up as a perfect mark for him to hit.
Tessa Lee's murder had been his doing, to draw me to London. He knew that I would not let the case go, which meant that he knew my mind as well as I did. The thought scared me more than I would have liked. If he knew my mind, then the logical next step would be to go after Demetria.
"Did you receive anything from the man, Demetria? A note, a message, something like that?" I questioned quietly, hoping that no one else would hear. She gave me an odd look.
"Yeah, actually. He said to give you this. It was in my pocket when I woke up," she replied. "What is it?"
The note she handed me was simple. Great minds think alike, Raven Queen, was etched in dark ink on the paper, seeming triumphant in a way that only this man seemed to be able to. And indeed, we both were great minds, albeit in different manners.
Baker Street was quiet when the five of us returned. Lestrade left us at the door, saying goodbye and heading off to the Yard. They got all the evidence, and we thought that was that. For the next two weeks, all was quiet. I always felt like I was being watched, though. It was something I couldn't shake off. Mycroft attributed it to the recent kidnapping, but I had never felt like this. Not when I worked for the police, not when I was hunting serial killers in the FBI, and most definitely not in this city that had always seemed like home to me.
A/N: This is the end of Act One, so the next chapter basically starts a whole new part. I would seperate them like I did on Wattpad, but the documents won't let me do that on this site. Anyway, if you want to read the version that I have on Wattpad (Nothing past here is edited), then feel free. Follow, favorite, review; thanks.