Hell's Rayne (Book 1)

Chapter 22

My biggest fear, as Jesse and I piled into his car amongst our luggage as well as a plentiful amount of rubbish he seemed to have been collecting for some time, was the length of the journey we were about to embark on. Despite the early hour Jesse had chosen to leave, it was still going to take us the best part of the day for us to reach his parents house in Yorkshire. It was one hell of a long journey, just the two of us alone in a car and a huge number of hours to try and fill with small talk. Whilst talking with Jesse might well prove to be fruitful, my worry would come when the conversation would inevitably turn back around on me. I was still struggling with my persona for this case, I'd had too little time to prepare and though I could think on my feet well enough how long would it be before I contradicted myself while he actually paid enough attention to notice.

When it came down to it though, I needn't have worried at all and the long – potentially tedious – journey was actually quite pleasant. We did talk, but about many random and seemingly useless topics, conversations amusing and yet entirely meaningless that I wouldn't have a hope of repeating even if I had wanted to. He never asked any taxing questions, nothing I found myself struggling to answer nor that incited any fear I may forget important details I'd relayed; none of it was important and that's what made it enjoyable.

We sang, loudly and badly, along with his classic rock and heavy metal CDs. Of all the genres of music I'd seen come and go while working on the surface, they were among a few that I could really sink my teeth into. I liked his taste and, as much as I told myself I really shouldn't, I liked his company.

The journey was long, but we made good time and managed to arrive a little earlier than expected, or at least earlier than Jesse's parents had been expecting. They also hadn't expected their son to have brought a random stranger along with him as a guest to his sisters funeral – a part of me had expected him to ring ahead and let them know he was bringing some moral support with him, though another part of me wasn't all that surprised when it came as a shock.

His mother made her disapproval of my presence frighteningly clear. From first impressions, she was a lady that I wasn't at all keen to tangle with; if anyone would test the mettle of my character it would be her and I was far from confident that I could successfully have her fooled. There are some types of people that we are never sent to deal with. It was the same with all demonic breeds, some types are more susceptible to a certain power over another, and Jesse's mother would never be the mark in a case for a Hybrid like myself. I could feel accusing eyes burning straight through me, calculating, judging. I wanted to spend as little time in her company as possible for fear of jeopardising my case and blowing my cover, not when I was so close to the prize I could almost touch it. I had a feeling this was going to prove to be a long and trying week.

I waited outside by the car whilst Jesse went indoors to try and appease his mother. His father though had been genial, almost friendly even, and had seemed about as reluctant to go back inside the house for his wife’s showdown with their son as I had started to feel about staying. You need to be here, you came on this trip for a reason and can't just bail because of some hissy fit his mum is throwing, I had to keep repeating those words to myself. Besides, I held out a small amount of hope that Patrick, Jesse's father, might be able to talk his wife round to the idea; the reassuring smile that he cast me when he finally decided to head inside and, hopefully, put a stop to the yelling was vaguely comforting.

Still, if all else failed, I was pretty sure I'd spotted a Travelodge not too far back, I could probably convince Jesse that we should crash there instead – even a grotty B&B would be preferable to frosty looks over the breakfast table.

“Heather? Hello, I am Mrs Hudson. My son tells me that you are a 'friend' of his.”

The high, tight lipped voice dragged me away from my thoughts. I was almost reluctant to turn around from where I'd been leaning with my arms over the car bonnet, back turned towards the house, as I contemplated my escape excuses. Who wanted to stay in a house where they were so clearly not welcome? Mrs Hudson's tone of voice made it clear that her opinion on the matter hadn't been swayed any; if anything she sounded even more put out, probably having been forced outside to make forced polite conversation with the likes of me.