P. Stormcrow

“Jackson!” 

They stopped and turned around to see Agent Kou stalking up to them. Right. It wasn’t her case anymore, but they should have kept her apprised of their progress, regardless. Things had been happening so fast since their initial investigation he hadn’t had time yet.

“Hey!” Damien affected a casual smile. “How’s Allen doing?”

“Still out,” Kou muttered with a scowl. It was apparent that she wasn’t happy about it, but she didn’t elaborate. “What’s this I hear about you getting yourself into trouble?”

Beside him, Reed rubbed the back of her head, but chose this moment to remain silent. Of course she did. He let out a discreet sigh and shrugged. “We’re fine. Just got into a little scrap. You know how it goes.”

Kou raised her brow, skepticism oozing out of her. “Watch yourselves out there. I don’t want the case I passed on to you guys to be the one that sends you to your early graves.”

Ouch. Blunt. But Agent Kou always was. And it was just as fun to rib her about it. “Aw, you care!” Damien curved his lips into a grin, only to wince as Reed elbowed him in the ribs, making him almost spill his coffee.

“Hey!” he protested, righting the cup in his hand just in time.

Kou shook her head, already looking as though he was giving her a headache. But she handed them an envelope. “Here, you’ll need this if you are heading to the hotel.”

He accepted it with widened eyes. “Is that…?”

“Thank Olivia and the director later. Good luck and happy hunting.” Kou waved at both of them and walked away.

Reed reached out to snatch the envelope from his hand. “Is that a…?”

“Yeah, a warrant. It’ll make finding the two a lot easier. I had thought we would have to stake out in the lobby for a while. These things are rare when it’s a case in our sole jurisdiction, given the nature of what we investigate.”

“I think they’re all worried about you.”

“Ah, I’m a lucky guy to have all these caring ladies in my life!” 

But instead of even a ghost of a smile, as he had hoped, Reed frowned. “Why do you always do this?”

“Do what?” He blinked in surprise.

“Joke about other people’s concern over you. Tease and shrug off their gestures.” Reed pinned him with her steady gaze, as if it could pierce through all his layers of frivolity to figure out what laid underneath.

You’re just a scared weakling that drags everyone down.

He was about to reply with another joke, but one look at the seriousness on her face made him stop short. This was his ride-or-die. She deserves better. “It’s easier, I guess. I suppose, then I don’t have to admit I worry everybody.” Denying the concern helped him avoid the thought of consequences. Not that he was ready to say that out loud just yet.

His answer seemed to satisfy his partner as she nodded. “Let’s get going.”

Relief flooded his system, but she took two steps forward before he found his voice again. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for caring.”

***

The front desk had complied with the warrant, releasing room information to them as soon as they showed the piece of the paper. The poor woman had stammered and stuttered, flustered despite the amount of soothing Damien tried to do. No luck though, with Agent Reed looming over in all her five-foot-four fierceness. Maybe the heat was getting to her.

At last, they stood in front of the room door. After exchanging a glance with each other, Damien knocked and stepped back to wait. It hadn’t taken long for them to develop these little silent communication cues between them and for that he was grateful. Reed had slid into both the job and being his partner much more easily than he had expected.

Seconds later, a tall and lanky man in one of those white hotel robes opened the door. “About time…” He trailed off in confusion. “You’re not room service.”

“No, I’m afraid not.” Damien held his badge up. “FBI. May we come in?”

He glanced at them, wariness seeming to clear the fog clouding his expression. “I suppose I have little of a choice.” He stepped back to allow them through.

The place appeared to be in order, the sheets rumpled, a suitcase standing in one corner. But otherwise, everything stood in its place, the sign of someone well used to travel. But more importantly, there was not a whiff of magic in the air. Either Mr. Ashton Langford was very skilled at hiding his dabblings or this director was not the culprit.

Reed glanced at him, tilting her head in question, and he gave a subtle shake. Not here.

“So what can I do for you agents?” 

As the more senior agent, it was normal for him to take the lead in these conversations, but sometimes Damien wished he didn’t have to. There were still moments he missed Gerard. This was one of them. “Are you aware of three deaths under investigation currently associated with your movie, No End Land?”

“Deaths?” Mr. Langton’s voice jumped an octave higher even as he paled. But the statement had alarmed him. Not surprised. 

“Sir—” Reed started.

“Ashton, please,” he choked out as he groped behind him until he could touch his chair. With slow movements, he eased himself into it.

“Ashton, is there anything you can tell us?” His partner had gentled her tone as she lowered herself on to the edge of the bed so that she could maintain eye level with him. She was building rapport. Smart.

Ashton, however, shook his head and swallowed hard. Neither of them spoke, letting the silence stretch on until at last the director cleared his throat again. “Nah, it’s all silly stuff. Very silly,” he muttered to himself.

Ah ha. There was something. The next part was always the trickiest, but Reed rose to the occasion. “Did strange things happened during the project?”

Ashton narrowed his eyes as he studied first Reed then Damien. “What division did you say you guys were from?”

“We didn’t,” Damien answered this time. “it’s not one you would have heard of.”

“Huh.” He eyed them before sighing, as if he had come to some sort of conclusion. “To be honest, while we were filming, it felt like there was some kind of curse over the project. Things the FX team would have done would be undone the next day. We would arrive on set in the morning and everything would be in disarray. And there was always someone sick or injured.” He stopped himself and took a shuddering breath, as if trying to rein himself in. “I’m surprised we pulled through. By the time we wrapped, everyone was so spooked, we didn’t even bother with a big wrap party. No one wanted to hang around longer than they had to.”

Did all that have to do with the demon pact? 

“Thank you, Ashton,” Reed continued.

“Wait, you believe me?”

The incredulity was not uncommon, but it was always a judgement call whether to bring the person into the fold, so to speak. And Ashton did not need the weight of this if he had nothing to do with it. “One’s perception is never invalid, and you have given us valuable insights into what has happened leading up to this. What we do know from your account is that there were signs of potential sabotage during the filming, and that opens up a new line of investigation. We appreciate your cooperation.”

Reed looked up at him in surprise, but didn’t contradict him. Meanwhile, Ashton only nodded, shoulders sagging as he rubbed his face. “Yes, anytime.”

He didn’t mean that, and they were all aware of it. Damien hoped that one day Ashton could move on from this. It would make a good story for him.

But for Reed and himself who knew this was all too real, it was time to talk to the other suspect. Damien walked back out with Reed in tow and closed the door behind them with a soft click. It wasn’t until they were half way down the hall that Reed asked the question he was waiting for.

“Why didn’t you tell him?”

“You know as well as I do that the knowledge of the supernatural can be a burden. Yes, it was his film, but he’s an innocent bystander.”

“How are you so sure he wasn’t just feigning ignorance?”

Damien turned to face his partner. “Did that look like an act to you?”

She hesitated before replying. “No.”

“I won’t lie to you. It’s always going to be a judgement call and a gut feeling. But so is the rest of the job, right?” He smiled to lighten the words, but knowing her, this topic would come up again once she had more time to give it some thought. He didn’t mind. They got lucky, snatching her up before they could shuffle her to some dumb back-office work.

“Okay. Room three thirteen next?” Reed suggested.

“Yeah, let’s go.”