“What on Earth is going on?” Frances repeated as her small, yet surprisingly imposing figure entered the room.

The knife had fallen from my fingers and landed with a clatter on the hard floor when I jumped away from Frank's still slumped and cowering body and her eyes were drawn to it instantly; nothing got past those eagle eyes. I could almost see the cogs turning in her mind as she put the scene together. Her mouth gradually dropped open as her eyes slowly flicked from Frank to the knife, the broken table, and finally coming to rest on my statuesque form.

I stood still, frozen to the spot through fear of what I might do if I moved. A heady mixture of anger, frustration and blood-lust still seethed through my veins and didn't much care at who it would be directed as long as I gave it an outlet to escape through. But one tiny, still rational part of me knew that the situation could so easily spiral even further out of control if I let it all loose, and that thought alone was enough for me to keep it reigned back in. Calm, composure, that is what I needed in that moment; I also knew I needed to get out of there, the pub could no longer be my 'safe haven' in the village, I had more than outstayed my welcome.

“My good God, Heather! What do you think you've been doing down here?” Frances shrieked, “look at this place!”

Of course she would be much more concerned about the mess and the expense of the broken table than about the drunk and the knife; if I'd have slit the man's throat she'd have been most concerned about the bloodstains on the floor. I rolled my eyes, from what I'd learned of Frances it really shouldn't have come as a surprise.

Frank too, it seemed, had noticed her seeming lack of concern for his welfare. Even drunk and possessed this bothered him and he was going to remedy that situation; I didn't even need to say a word – which suited me just fine, I wasn't sure I'd even have my tongue under control quite yet.

“She went mad and attacked me,” Frank yelled, suddenly, taking both Frances and myself by surprise. He hauled himself back to his feet and made a slow, unsteady progress towards the landlady, his arms spread wide, imploringly.

With Frances's presence in the room, and a knife no longer pressed to his throat, all fear Frank may have felt earlier had dissipated and he looked out for revenge.

“Came at me like a mad woman she did, had that knife at me throat. Insane, I swear Frances you want to watch out, someone like that working here.”

Frank turned a glance towards me and I saw that flicker of shadow behind his eyes once again as a sinister smile curled his lips. He was preying directly on her worst fears, someone untrustworthy and dangerous encroaching on her carefully controlled life and her precious business – couldn't blame her for feeling that way I supposed, I hated it when someone got in the way of me doing my job. I met Frank's eye as the Whisperer taunted me from behind that glassy grey stare and I knew it's presence there had to be more than just coincidence.

Both Frank and Frances glared at me, accusingly, and all I could do was gaze back, feeling at a complete loss for something to say. I mouthed soundless nothings as I longed for the return of my wit and sharp tongue to cut through the awkward silence.

I shook my head. “This is all getting ridiculous,” I finally managed to blurt out. It wasn't quite the witty repartee that I'd been hoping for but I felt in control of myself and my emotions, even as I threw my hands up in the air in a physical gesture of exasperation.

Frank continued to study me, a little too closely for my liking, as if he were daring me to voice my suspicions and spill the beans about the demonic passenger he carried in his head. I wouldn't give in to that, besides Frances was never going to believe a word I spoke again, why would she buy some outlandish story about demons?

I took a step backwards, I had to get away from the pair of them, from everybody, but they both stood blocking my only exit routes.

“I can't do this any more,” I said, shaking my head again as I felt the threads of control I'd weaved start to slip back through my fingers. “It's just too much all at once. And you people drive me fucking insane!”I ranted, my internal monologue spilling over my lips, “I hardly even know who I am or why I'm here any more.”

“What are you ranting about Heather?” Frances asked, carefully. She certainly seemed to believe Frank in his exclamation that I was insane after the outburst I'd produced.

“Nothing,” I muttered, taking a deep breath as I pulled tighter on the threads of control until I had them well back within my grasp again. If I could just keep it together a little longer I could get away from them. “Nothing, it doesn't matter.”

On a sudden spark of inspiration I made my way towards the two of them, though my gaze was focussed solely on Frances – I needed to ignore Frank and his demon, they were a problem I couldn't deal with in that moment, but Frances I could deal with. Perhaps if I just ignored the whole situation it would go away, denial worked so often for humans after all. I could slip past her, go to bed and face the whole thing in the morning with a fresh mind and a better explanation for what had happened – though I wasn't overly hopeful.

“I just need to get some sleep, excuse me,” I said to Frances as I moved close enough to start encroaching on her personal space.

Stubbornly, she stood her ground, even as I detected a slight tremor in her solid stance; even if she was afraid of what I might do she wasn't going to stand aside and allow me my hasty exit.

“No.” She shook her head. “I'm sorry Heather, but that isn't going to happen. I believe you have outstayed your welcome here,” she said firmly without so much as a quiver in her voice. “I want you to collect your things and then I want you out of my pub. You can consider yourself sacked, and barred to boot,” she continued, her confidence growing with each word.

“Fine,” I said firmly. I knew when I had lost, but I wasn't about to let Frances get the last word. “But I will be wanting my wages up to the end of the night before I leave.”

She wanted to protest, I could see it in the look on her face. If it came down to it, she could dock my pay for that one night, I wasn't supposed to have been working anyway and I wasn't about to quibble over a few pounds, but she still owed me for the weeks I'd already worked solidly and I wasn't leaving without it. If I was going to find somewhere new to stay I was probably going to need the extra cash, what I'd brought with me was wearing thin.

“That is if you don't want to see me in here again, Frances.” I raised my eyebrows in her direction, paying me was the only way I was going to leave quietly; it was really her best option. “I'll be down in ten minutes with my things.”

A quick detour behind the bar to grab my coat and bag I'd dumped there earlier and then I pushed past Frances and headed up the stairs. I didn't have very much to retrieve from the room I'd rented, a few items to laundry to pick up probably but they would be thrown into a vortex and sent back to my room in Hell – which reminded me, I was going to seriously need to sort out that cupboard and get masses of washing done once I finally managed to get home – most importantly, I needed to pick up Jesse's case file.

There was nothing else stored away in the pine chest of drawers besides the slim manilla file, which I slipped into my bag along with the few other personal belongings I'd carry with me. I took a moment to check everything was still safely tucked inside the bag, the phial of yellow 'potion' glinted at me in the lamplight. Might need to use that more than ever now, I thought to myself as I snapped the bag shut and gave the room one last cursory glance.

Nothing more of mine, besides myself and that one small bag, remained inside the chintz heavy bedroom. Would Frances notice I was leaving without much in the way of luggage? She'd made no comment on it when I'd arrived but perhaps, under the circumstances of my dismissal, she would pay more attention, wanting to be sure I would be gone and not returning to collect 'forgotten' belongings. And, for all of my concerns about keeping up with my alias, did it really matter what she thought?

I took a seat on the edge of the bed, needing a moment to take stock of my situation; besides I'd told Frances I would be ten minutes and it had taken less than five to clear the room of my possessions. I didn't want to pounce on her too soon, she was twitchy enough as it was.

What was I going to do now? It was the middle of the night, I had nowhere to stay and still had a case to complete. When it came down to the wire, it seemed I only had one option left to me.

With my one small bag slung over my shoulder and my leather coat buttoned up against the chill I knew I would find once I got outside, I hurried down the stairs and burst through the door back into the bar.

It gave me a small jolt of pleasure when both Frank and Frances jumped at the sudden noise. They both looked at me with wide, startled eyes as I breezed into the room. They'd been talking about me while I was upstairs – I hadn't felt my ears burning, or whatever that old wives tale was – but I could tell by the way they'd frozen in their conversation I'd been the subject of it. Probably cooking up some scandalous story about me that they could spread around the village come the next day. In the long run it didn't matter what they might say, I would never have to see them again once this case was over, no matter what people thought of me would be of little consequence, just as long as I could get to Jesse first.

“You have my money.” It wasn't a question, not really even a request. She and I both knew it was the only reason I hadn't headed straight for the door, it was also the only way she was going to be rid of me. Keen to leave, I hoped she wasn't going to make a fuss, even if a small part inside of me wanted her to protest – the demon hadn't had it's taste of blood after all and it was still quietly hopeful.

Her lips stretched in a thin, tight line and displeasure written all over her face, Frances still didn't speak a word in objection. “I'll be right back,” she said, curtly, and she pushed through the door and ran up the stairs on her stubby legs.

Alan had taken the cash drawer upstairs, and had probably locked the money up tight in the safe by now. Why she hadn't gone to collect it while I packed I would never know. Perhaps she didn't want to be upstairs at the same time as myself, though it was funny she hadn't seemed in the least bit concerned for her husbands welfare.

“I'll be waiting,” I called up after her in a sing-song voice before the door closed behind her. The more I at least appeared to enjoy the situation the more I felt I had control over it. I would not give her all the power.

With Frances gone, I turned my attention back to Frank, who appeared to have only just noticed he was once again alone in my company. A strange, flickering of emotions passed over his face before he turned for the main doors, mumbling to himself. I managed to make out something that sounded like “I should go...” as he fumbled with the lock, remembering what had barred his first exit attempt.

He stepped out into the darkness of the night and a sigh of relief I didn't realise I'd been holding whistled through my lips. I never wanted to encounter Frank again if it could be avoided. The Whisperer knew who I was, what I really was, it had either seized on an opportunity to mess with me, or it had been sent here specifically to do that. Perhaps I was paranoid for feeling that way but something struck me as suspicious. I'd been gone for much longer that they would like – could it be the case that it was there to give me an extra push in the right direction? Okay, now I was probably being too hopeful.

“Have a nice life Frank,” I called after him. It was a childish comment but I couldn't help myself, needing to get the last word in as he hurried out of the door. Though I saw him, for the briefest second before the door closed as he turned to look at me from across the car park. His mouth stretched wide in a sinister grin that displayed far too many teeth, a maniacal look glazed his eyes and I shivered at the expression. No, I definitely did not want to cross paths with Frank again.

As the door clicked shut Frances pushed her way back into the bar,. A wad of notes was bundled in her fist and she thrust them towards me.

“Here,” she said, refusing to meet my eye as I took the cash from her hand, “I trust I will not see you here again after this.”

I dropped the money loose into my bag; giving her the benefit of the doubt, I didn't bother to count it.

“Don't worry, you won't be seeing me again,” I said with a sly smile, with any luck,I added silently to myself.

With a confused feeling of both relief and foreboding bubbling in the pit of my stomach, I brushed past her and barged my way out of the door. I shivered in the chilly night air – summer or not it was a damn sight colder that I appreciated – and I was hit with the realisation that, though I had no certain idea of where I was going, I might just have dragged myself out of the rut I'd been stuck in.

With the weight on my shoulders feeling somewhat lighter than it had only a few hours earlier, I set off into the darkness. First things first, I had to find somewhere new to stay, preferably somewhere warm. Besides the pub that I could no longer return to , there was only one place I could think of to go. I just had to hope he was still awake.