Skullduggery

Book 3: Thrill of the Hunt

by Helen Harper

Genres: Fantasy Romance; Romantic Fantasy; Urban Fantasy

Synopsis

Okay. I’ll admit I’ve got problems. But surrender is word wholly absent from my vocabulary.

My grasp on magic is shaky at best and my dependence on spider’s silk is a battle I’m still fighting. But while my heritage and my health might be problematic, I’m certainly not going to roll over and give up.

Not me. Not ever.

With Hugo Pemberville and his skilled band of Prime treasure hunters by my side, I'm drawn into a quest for a mythical golden skull. This artefact might just be the breakthrough needed to shed light on the enduring mystery of Lady Rose's disappearance - but the search for it will force me down a twisty path filled with unexpected revelations.

The echoes of the past have never felt quite so close to home.

Skullduggery is the third book in the urban fantasy series Thrill of the Hunt. Expect dangerous magic, heart-rending romance and thrilling, unexpected adventure.

 

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Release date: June 17, 2024

Print pages: 296

Sample

Chapter One

 

I was sure that somebody somewhere enjoyed posh parties with dainty canapés, fizzing champagne and the delicate strains of Mozart in the background. Unfortunately, I was not that person – especially when all I really wanted to do was curl up in a corner and quietly die.

‘Would madam care for a sourdough buckwheat blini garnished with oak-smoked salmon, beluga caviar, beetroot foam and gold leaf?’

Madam would much rather have had a greasy burger, a hot bath and twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep. However, I managed to smile at the young tuxedoed waiter and decline politely with a shake of my head. He was clearly a low elf, and to be a low elf in this room you were either friendly with someone like Hugo Pemberville or you’d been drafted in as staff to serve the highfalutin’ elite of the magical world. 

I’d scanned the hundreds of well-dressed guests and there wasn’t a single one who was a low elf like me and the wait staff. Then again, it was possible that I wasn’t a low elf either. I grimaced and tossed back my glass of champagne before snagging another one.

‘I’m bored,’ Hester complained in my ear. ‘This is a very dull party.’ 

‘It’s a cultured, civilised affair, Hes,’ Otis told her. 

‘I don’t want to be civilised or cultured.’ She sniffed. ‘I want to have some fun. This is the first night we’ve been away from Pemberville Castle in six weeks. I’m wearing my best dress – and I’m about to collapse from boredom.’

She wasn’t the only one on the verge of collapse, though my woes were physical. I could feel myself swaying with exhaustion, every muscle in my body ached and my eyelids were heavy. Even lifting the glass of champagne to my lips felt like an effort. If I wasn’t careful, I’d probably pitch face first into the nearest punch bowl.

My fingers strayed to my clutch bag, inside which nestled three pills of purest spider’s silk. Swallowing one would keep me awake and alert for another couple of hours, but it was only five hours since my last hit; bone tired or not, I had to hold out for longer between doses. I had to. I was bitterly aware that my fatigue and aching body weren’t solely the result of my recent training regime; my addiction to spider’s silk was taking its toll in more ways than one.

Otis buzzed anxiously, ‘Daisy? Are you alright?’

‘Of course she’s not alright!’ Hester snapped. ‘Hugo is on the other side of the room flirting with a very attractive woman in a revealing dress, while Daisy is here propping up the wall.’ She nudged me. ‘You should get out there and find someone of your own to flirt with. Then Hugo will get jealous, dash over here in a manly fashion and whisk us all away from this shitty, shitty party.’

I ground my teeth. ‘I’m not twelve, Hester, and this is not a school disco. And Hugo would not whisk anyone away in a fit of preposterous jealousy.’ I looked over at him. He was indeed deep in conversation with a stunning brunette whose glossy hair and sparkling jewels made her look as if she’d stepped off a catwalk. She kept touching his arm and leaning in to whisper in his ear, and my stomach kept clenching in annoyance. 

I looked away. I had no claim on Hugo, not really. ‘Besides,’ I continued, ‘as you well know, we’re not here to enjoy a party or to flirt. This is business.’

Otis flapped his wings worriedly. ‘There’s no sign of Sir Nigel. Maybe he changed his mind at the last minute and he’s not coming.’

‘Yeah,’ Hester agreed. ‘He probably decided to do something more interesting with his time.’ Her tiny bottom lip jutted out. ‘Like fold his collection of bow ties into origami shapes. Or watch paint dry.’

‘He said he’d be here and that he’d tell me everything he’s found out about the fiends. Why don’t the two of you see if you can spot him?’ I suggested. ‘Ask around.’

‘And what will you be up to if we do that?’ Hester asked suspiciously.

Ideally I’d be resting my eyes and playing the role of professional wallflower. 

I spotted a familiar figure heading towards me. ‘The same,’ I said. ‘Last one to find Sir Nigel is a rotten egg.’ 

‘That’s you,’ Hester told her brother. ‘You’re a rotten egg.’

‘No, you’re a rotten egg.’

Lacking the energy to deal with their bickering, I waved them off then forced my mouth to curve into a smile as I greeted Gordon Mackenzie, the accomplished sorcerer and occasional nemesis of Hugo. ‘Hi, Gordon.’

He ran a shaky hand through his hair and gave me a quick grin. ‘Good evening, Daisy. I was hoping to bump into you.’

‘Really?’

His cheeks turned pink. ‘Really.’ He coughed and shuffled his feet. ‘I hate these sorts of things,’ he said. ‘Parties like this are full of people trying too hard to impress their peers. I’m not well suited to them.’

‘You should talk to Hester. She’s not impressed either.’

Gordon gave a surprised laugh. ‘At least I’m not alone, then.’

‘Definitely not.’ This time I smiled more genuinely. ‘How have you been?’

‘Good. Busy.’ He twitched awkwardly. ‘How have you been?’

‘Much the same.’

There were a few beats of silence, then Gordon dropped his eyes. ‘I’m not very good at small talk either,’ he admitted.

‘To be fair, neither of us is a glittering raconteur at the moment.’

‘I’m not surprised. You don’t look very well, Daisy,’ he said, then winced. ‘I apologise. I didn’t mean to be rude.’

I patted his arm. ‘You’re not being rude, Gordon, just honest. Never apologise for that. I’m tired. I’ve been training with Hugo and the Primes for the last month and a half and it’s hard.’ I swallowed. ‘Really hard.’ 

Then I flexed my biceps. ‘But look! I’ve got more muscles. I can swing my sword with greater control and I can empty my mind of thoughts for a whole nine minutes while I meditate. It’s progress. Of sorts.’ I shrugged then immediately regretted the action when a wave of pain rippled down my spine. 

Wild magic flared deep in my belly, threatening to spring out from my fingertips. I hastily tamped it down; boring or not, the last thing this soirée needed was for me to set the room on fire because my magic was out of control.

Gordon understood what had nearly happened and he reached towards me. At least he didn’t run away screaming. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

‘I’m fine.’ I swallowed hard. ‘Honest. I’m doing okay. It’s harder to control my powers when I’m tired, but I’ve got this.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Positive.’ I took another sip of champagne and tried to act as if nothing were wrong. Unfortunately, I didn’t fool either of us – especially when the long-stemmed glass trembled in my traitorous hands. ‘Have you seen Sir Nigel?’ I asked. ‘I need to pick his brains about something.’

‘I’m afraid not. I think he’s been delayed in Glasgow.’

Cumbubbling bollocks. My dismay must have shown on my face because Gordon leaned in closer. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ 

I sighed. ‘Not unless you’re an expert on fiends as well as being a world-renowned sorcerer, and you can tell me what the likelihood is that a fiend would have sired a child and that child would be me, and if that’s true whether I’ll turn evil or die from my spider’s silk addiction before that happens, and if my inability to control my own magic is because I’m at least fifty-percent fiend with the capacity to become a psychopathic murderer with no regard for anyone’s wellbeing other than my own.’ I took a breath.

Gordon stared at me.

I glanced down at my empty glass. ‘I should stop drinking champagne,’ I added. I put the glass down on a nearby table before I inadvertently dropped it and smashed it to smithereens.

He continued to stare at me.

‘I won’t hold it against you if you run away, Gordon,’ I said.

He didn’t move. Maybe my tirade had made him freeze with terror. 

Finally, he met my eyes. ‘Fiends are made, Daisy, not born. Yes, they embody evil, but that’s not you. You are not a bad person, and you’re certainly no more likely to become a psychopathic murderer than I am. I can’t speak for the spider’s silk problem because that’s outside my area of expertise, but if Hugo is training you to help you beat your addiction, you’re in the best possible hands. I don’t know if you’ll die from your addiction, but I do know that you’re a good person and that’s what counts, not who your parents are.’

Now it was my turn to stare. Gordon had spoken with quiet conviction; he wasn’t afraid of me, he didn’t patronise me, and he didn’t tell me everything would be alright. He simply spoke the truth as he saw it, and that meant more than he would ever realise.

‘You know what, Gordon?’ I said softly. ‘You’re a good person too.’

He blushed deeply, fiddled with his cuffs, bowed and started to back away. ‘I’ll leave you in peace.’

Exhausted or not, I couldn’t let him off that easily. ‘Wait! You said that you were hoping to bump into me. Is there something I can help you with?’

He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. ‘You’ve got a lot on your plate. Don’t worry.’

I folded my arms. ‘I’m not worried, but I’m here to listen.’ I offered him a mock hard stare. ‘Frankly, Gordon, I could do with the distraction, especially if Sir Nigel isn’t going to show up. You came to our rescue in Wales at New Year. The least I can do is listen to you now. What’s going on?’

He started to gnaw his bottom lip, then cast a glance first over his right shoulder then over his left before shuffling closer to me. Despite his nervousness, I couldn’t mistake the flash of hope in his eyes. He really did want my help. 

‘You know that I’m looking into the disappearance of Lady Rose Assigney.’ He was talking about the high elf who hadn’t been seen for decades and whose disappearance was often blamed on Hugo’s absent parents. 

‘Yep.’

‘And you know that I’ve not had any success in discovering what happened to her.’

‘She vanished without a trace thirty years ago, Gordon.’

He nodded. ‘The last time anyone saw her was the thirtieth of May 1994. The anniversary is coming up soon.’

I did my best to reassure him. ‘I’m sure you’ve done your absolute best, but even you can’t work miracles.’

‘I’ve exhausted almost every option,’ he admitted.

I raised an eyebrow. ‘Almost every option?’

Gordon swallowed. ‘There’s an object that might help me get to the bottom of what happened to her. I’ve seen it mentioned in several books. It’s a magical object that…’ His voice trailed off and he seemed embarrassed. ‘Well, let me just say that it’s a magical object that might provide the answers.’

I no longer felt quite so tired. ‘What is it?’

He reached into his breast pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. When I opened it up, I was confronted by a small hand-drawn diagram of a skull. My brow furrowed.

‘It’s not a real skull,’ Gordon said hastily. ‘It’s made of gold and the drawing is to scale.’

If that were true, it was only three inches high. ‘Okay.’ I was reasonably certain what he was going to say next, and for once the frisson of anticipation that ran through my veins was nothing to do with drugs. This was exactly what I needed to keep my mind off my health problems.

‘My skills lie in old books and ancient runes,’ he said. ‘I’m not a treasure hunter – I don’t have any experience in that field, and I suspect that I’d be useless if I tried.’

My excitement got the better of me. ‘You want me to speak to Hugo and persuade him to hunt for this magical skull. With my help, of course.’

Gordon blinked. ‘Uh … no. I was rather hoping that you’d agree to hunt for it on your own.’

I was so taken aback that I jerked and narrowly avoided colliding with yet another waiter hoisting aloft a silver platter with more elaborate but unappetising canapés. Everyone always asked for Hugo; he was the celebrated treasure hunter and I was the inexperienced upstart who rarely got a look in. ‘Me?’

‘Yes, you. You’re smart, resourceful and powerful. You’re the perfect person to search for the skull.’

Before I started to preen at his gushing praise, I tilted my head and gave him a narrow-eyed look. My earlier excitement was fading away. ‘How many other treasure hunters have you spoken to before me?’

‘One or two.’ 

At least he didn’t try to deny it. ‘One or two?’

Gordon shifted his weight. ‘Okay,’ he admitted. ‘Maybe it’s more like six.’

‘Let me guess,’ I said wryly. ‘The others declined because they don’t want to annoy Hugo. And you won’t ask Hugo because he’ll definitely say no.’

‘See? I said you were smart.’ Gordon’s gaze was nervous but earnest. ‘We both know that Hugo will only say no because he’s scared.’

I felt a twitch of discomfort at discussing Hugo behind his back and I glanced over at him. The beautiful brunette was still by his side but he wasn’t looking at her: he was looking at me, his expression inscrutable.

I nodded. ‘Hugo is scared that your investigation will prove his parents’ culpability in Lady Rose’s disappearance.’ And likely her murder, too. ‘But they might have had nothing to do with it. Your investigation means that speculation about their involvement will never stop.’

‘But my investigation could also prove that they weren’t involved and clear their names!’ Gordon protested.

I drew in a deep breath. ‘Do you think they were involved?’

‘Honestly?’ He shrugged. ‘I have no idea. There is circumstantial evidence but nothing concrete.’ He didn’t take his eyes from me. ‘Lady Rose had a family too, Daisy, and they deserve closure. But the simple fact is that I’m running out of avenues to explore. If this magical skull doesn’t provide any answers, I’m prepared to put my investigation to rest for good and tell Lady Rose’s great-aunt, Grace Assigney, that we’ll never know what happened.’ 

I rubbed the back of my neck. Everything about Lady Rose’s disappearance all those years ago was complicated, and I didn’t want to get involved if it would hurt Hugo. I cared about him too much. Gordon was right: Lady Rose should be found so her remains could be taken care of properly and her family had answers – but those answers might never be found. Life wasn’t fair, no matter how much we wanted to believe otherwise. 

In any case, this wasn’t the place or the time to be making any sort of decision. I needed a fresh head to consider everything – and I needed to talk to Hugo. ‘Send me what you have on the skull and I’ll think about it. But,’ I added hastily before Gordon’s delight became too obvious, ‘I’m not making any promises.’

He reached for my hands and squeezed them. ‘Thank you, Daisy. Thank you so much.’

‘Don’t thank me yet,’ I grunted. I glanced towards Hugo again, but this time he wasn’t there. ...