possibilities for the attacks on those women. I've fought a lich before, and even I didn't consider that one could be behind those murders.'
'I know, I just… I feel like I've been five steps behind since Vicki's disappearance. And now she's dead. Turned into a monster by that… cunt. And after all that he threatens my family.'
'Your family are safe. They have agents and Sky with them. And Tommy isn't exactly a slouch when it comes to taking care of himself. And we both know how safe Kasey is with that much security around her. They're safer than we are.'
Olivia forced a smile. 'You really are not what I'd expected.'
'I'm an enigma wrapped inside a riddle, all bundled in something quite wonderful.'
'It’s nice to see you have a healthy opinion of yourself.'
'It's a burden I live with every day.'
Olivia's smile was genuine. 'You and Tommy are both idiots.'
'Says the woman who had his child,' I said as we stopped outside Peter Jarvis's door.
'Moment of weakness,' she said, and stared at the plain brown door intently. 'I hope there's something important in there. Or at least useful.'
'Only one way to find out.'
Olivia stepped back from the door and created a sledgehammer of water in her hands, freezing it solid and then smashing it into the door just above the lock. It took two swings to destroy the lock and knock the door open. The ice instantly evaporated and she walked through the ruined door.
I followed, closing the door as best as I could behind me. It shut out most of the natural light from the window on the landing, and encased Olivia and me in darkness. Not the ideal start to invading a serial killer's home.
Olivia soon found the light switch and dull fluorescent light showed us a normal hallway, albeit a dark one, with pictures on the wall and some bookshelves along with several doors.
'You know, this is the second home I've been in that was owned by a psychotic murderer,' I said. 'And both of them have appeared completely…'
Olivia opened the first door inside the apartment.
'Holy shit,' I said as I stared at the madness beyond.
The room itself was fairly normal-a rather hideous green carpet with a small camp bed in the centre, one small bedside table and a lamp. It was what was on the walls that frightened and horrified. There were pictures of Olivia. Someone, probably Neil, had been stalking her, but there were hundreds of photos covering the walls. They were interspersed with photos taken of the bodies of the dead women; creating the most disturbing wallpaper of all time.
'He slept in here,' Olivia said, removing a photo of her from the wall and throwing it on the floor with disgust.
'These photos of the murdered women weren't taken by Neil. Peter must have done them himself. It would be more personal for him.'
'I feel sick,' Olivia whispered. 'Neil was following me around all this time.' She tore another picture from the wall and showed it to me. 'This is one of Kasey and me. That fucking cunt took a photo of my daughter. If he wasn't already dead, I'd tear his fucking head off myself.'
I took the pictures from Olivia's shaking hands and tossed them onto the floor.
'Burn it,' she said. 'Burn all of it.'
'We need to look around more-we can't do that if I set fire to the building.'
Olivia grabbed a large bunch of the photos, most of which appeared to be of her and Kasey, and tore them all off the wall, exposing the blue paint behind them.
As I was leaving the room, I noticed one picture that stood out from the rest. It was of Peter and four other men, all of whom were in police uniform. 'The four ghouls he created in that basement, they were his friends. And they were cops.'
'It was thought that some people in the police tried to conceal evidence during his trial, but nothing was ever proven.' Olivia shuddered. 'Let's keep searching.'
I made sure to shut the door on our way out of the room; I didn't want Olivia getting all pyromaniac on me. There were four more doors along the hallway. The first two led to nothing but empty rooms, and by the time we'd reached the second to last door, I was beginning to think there was nothing here worth bothering with.
I opened the door and very quickly realised how wrong I'd been. Although it didn't contain anything quite as crazy as the first room, I did find three leather-bound books on a desk next to a large window with a chair in front of it. I picked up the first book and turned it over in my hands.
At first I thought it was just a journal, as there were no markings to set it apart as anything important. But when I opened it, I realised exactly what I was holding. 'I don't know how this is possible,' I said to myself.
'What's wrong?' Olivia asked, taking the book from my hands and flicking through it. 'What is this?'
'It's a copy of a six-hundred-year-old book that details how to become a lich. A book that should be locked away on Avalon to stop anyone getting hold of it.'
'What are the other two?' Olivia asked picking up the second book and handing it to me without opening it, as she flicked through the last one.
I read the information contained within the second leather book with haste. 'It's his journal,' I said. 'It details every single murder he's ever committed. Including the ones since he became a lich, he says he wanted to make them all pay. He blames you a lot, Olivia. Mostly for taking away Vicki and getting him caught.'
I flicked through a few more pages and came to a photo that had been glued into the back of the journal. It was a copy of the one I'd found in Vicki's house, the picture of her and her friends, the six other victims. I showed it to Olivia.
'He wrote something underneath,' I said. 'He wrote, and I quote, 'Those fucking bitches need to die. They helped Vicki get away from me. She was never meant to leave. She said she'd love me always. Fucking whores will all pay for what they did. Vicki is paying right now. I can hear her scream when I close my eyes. And when everything is done, when I'm content that all of the wrongs have been righted, I'm going after that LOA bitch.''
I paused, then said, 'And, you know what, Olivia? I think I'll stop there.'
'Keep going.'
'No. I'm not giving you more ammo to do something stupid. You're already angry and emotions are high, you don't need to hear any more of his insane ramblings.'
“Point taken. You should take a look at this.' Olivia passed me the book she'd been reading. 'It's a history of insanity.'
The last book was a chronology of not only Peter's behaviour, but that of several of his ancestors. A mixture of paper cuttings and copies of the crime reports from the police gave a stark and dangerous view into Peter's mind. His father was a drunk and regularly beat both him and his mother, finally getting arrested at the age of thirty-six. He was dead a few hours later, found hanging in his own cell. Peter would have been eight years old.
Peter's grandfather was similarly tainted with a seemingly endless rage. He was arrested and convicted of the murder and dismemberment of three prostitutes in Leeds during the 1950s. A fellow prisoner slit his throat six weeks after he started a life sentence. I began to wonder how anyone could be a member of this family and not be a psychotic madman.
It was endless misery and hatred in printed form-Peter's great-grandfather died after a drunken brawl outside a pub in London. Someone shot him to stop him from stabbing a man to death with the end of a table leg.
The very last page was just a photo, taken in the 1860's. Beneath it was written great, great-grandfather. The man's evil eyes bore into me. I'd seen those eyes before. When he'd almost killed me. Peter's great, great grandfather was the lich I'd met in Montana.
Chapter 32
Montana Territory, America. 1878
'Your plan appears to settle on the insane side of crazy,' Sergeant Roberts said from the opposite side of the
