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Burn my Shadow	By : Khaleesi-Of-Dragons Category: M through R > Raven, The (2012) > Raven, The (2012) Views: 918 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Raven and I make no profit from this story

Chapter List
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The truth is hiding in your eyes/And its hanging on your tongue/Just boiling in my blood/But you think that I can't see/What kind of man that you are/If you're a man at all/Well I will figure this one out/On my own/I'm screaming "I love you so"/On my own/My thoughts you can't decode
"Well, now you know in explicit detail as of my whereabouts last night," I tell Detective Fields with a cold fire burning in my dark eyes—enraged that he had the gall to ask me if I had a part in the murders of a mother and daughter. The Detective lowers his eyes, cheeks tinted red with embarrassment. Sighing, I cross my arms and lean back in the uncomfortable chair he has me sitting in.
"I'll have one of my men escort you back to your room."
"No, I'll stay and wait for my brother." Fields' eyes lock with mine now, giving me a look that would make lesser people cower with fear, but I have grown used to such looks. I'm struck by how they seem to sparkle in the light, a strange mix of colors that changed from hazel to light brown. "I'd like to see you proven wrong once again—your expressions are truly priceless, Detective." I give him a small, charming smile that normally helps me to get clients. He clears his throat, shifting in his seat as I adjust once more, a bit of my cleavage showing. That was nothing new; all of my dresses were cut to show at least a little cleavage. "You know, Detective, you never told me your name."
"I believe I have, Miss Poe." He looks down at some of the papers covering his desk, missing the annoyed glare I shoot him. "Are you sure you don't want to go back to your room?" I ignore his question, just as stubborn as my elder brother and then some.
"No, I believe I have your job and you surname, not the name your friends address you as." He raises an eyebrow, eyes finally meeting mine again, though only for a split second. "Come on, Detective, surely it won't hurt anything. It's not as if by telling me your first name you are breaking the law." I lean forward, elbows on his desk and my head supported by my hands.
"Emmett." Emmett—the name suits him. I notice his eyes flitting around the room, trying to look anywhere but at me, cheeks still a light red. I watch him intently for a few minutes more before I rise from the chair and begin to walk around his office, admiring his literature collection. "Miss Poe—"
"Sarah," I interrupt," call me Sarah." I give him a small smile, perching on the edge of his desk. "And as a friend I'm sure you wouldn't mind paying me what I was cheated out of when you and your men came bursting into my room like you had a right." He gulps; I had slowly leaned forward as I was speaking and now my face was a mere hair's breadth from his. "Now, Emmett, there are two ways you can repay me, both sound like fine ideas to me." The door opens suddenly, revealing Edgar and Cantrell. I wink at Emmett before I hop down and walk to the front of his desk.
"What's going on," my brother asks, pulling me over to him. Emmett doesn't answer him, choosing instead to look down at the magnet in his hands and a strand of hair.
"Why would hair be attracted to a magnet?" I purse my lips, wondering when he's gonna get down to the real questions he wants answered. My brother looks confused and frustrated now—most likely mad that his poetry class had been interrupted by cops. I wonder if he has read about the murders yet.
"Excuse me?"
"Soot is merely carbon residue from coal and wood." Is he seriously making my brother wait when he was the one so impatient to get answers; answers I told Emmett that my brother had idea about? What a pompous ass.
Edgar sighs, shifting from one foot to the other and I step forward, growing tired of the detective's stalling tactic. "Is my brother under arrest or not, Detective Fields?" A hard edge has entered my voice, meaning the detective had better get things going before I do something I would surely regret later. "Because if he's not then surely we can get out of your hair and you can get one with your business."
Fields gestures to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "I am Detective Fields, have a seat, Mister Poe." My brother ignores the gesture, remaining on his feet in case he feels he needs to run.
"Yes," he says sarcastically," the infamous Detective Fields. Am I under arrest?"
"Not yet," Fields answers, finally putting the damn magnet down on his desk. "I'm a reader of your work." I roll my eyes, arms crossed over my chest. This routine was getting very tiresome very quickly.
"I admit, many of my admirers have gone to great lengths to meet me—"Emmett holds up a hand to stop Edgar's talking, shaking his head with an amused look in his hazel eyes. Edgar looks annoyed at having been interrupted but closes his mouth and sends me a look that speaks volumes of how quickly his temper has risen.
"Oh, I didn't say I was an admirer."
"Yet you read them." Emmett lets out a brief chuckle, placing one of my brother's books he'd picked up earlier back on his desk in precisely the same spot he'd picked it up from. Emmett Fields is a man of order; every place has a thing and everything is in its place and all that. Is it so bad to be a little disorganized?
"The night before last, a young girl and her mother were found murdered." And thus the real interrogation begins. "The daughter's body was found lodged in a chimney, the mother's head was nearly severed with a straight razor. The killer eluded capture through a window in which a lock was feigned with a nail sawed in half. Does anything sound familiar, Mister Poe?" He has a self-satisfied smirk on his face that I would just love to wipe off, but my brother raised me better than that…besides, I wouldn't get far before a whole squad of Baltimore's finest were hauling me back in.
"Of course, you're talking about my story." Edgar sounds confused; obviously he hasn't read the paper. "It's merely a work of fiction." Cantrell hands Edgar the morning newspaper—the headline reading: "Grisly Double Murder!" in big, bold letters.
"I'm afraid I'm not." Edgar has grown pale and so I help him into a chair, sitting in the one beside him so that I can hold his hand. Real murders still got to me, especially ones that were done with a knife-like object. "According to various witnesses, you and your sister were seen drunk two nights ago in a tavern near the harbor." He stands up, walking around the desk and straightening his vest. "Obviously Sarah couldn't have done it, so what time did you leave?"
Edgar blinks, seeming to be in slight shock. "I—I don't remember." He brings out a flask. "My, uh, leaving was involuntary." He takes a long swig from the flask before addressing Fields once again. "Do you honestly think I could murder these people?"
"Of course he doesn't," I assure Edgar, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze while sending Emmett my best glare. Cantrell notices the glare and tugs at the collar of his shirt, growing uncomfortable.
"May I see your hand?" Edgar holds up both, but Fields only inspects one, looking away in disappointment when he was finished. "Perhaps with the aid of accomplices, such a scenario might be conceivable—"
"Except for the simple fact my brother didn't do it and you damn well know he didn't," I say loudly, rising from the chair with my hands on my hips. Emmett sighs, nodding in agreement sitting behind his desk again.
"Yes, but what cannot be disputed is the fact that your brother's imagination is the inspiration of this horrendous crime."
"So because some brainless Neanderthal decided to use one of my brother's stories as the basis of some crime that means my brother has to pay for it, is that what you are hinting at, Detective Fields?" Emmett's retort is cut off by someone knocking on his office door.
"Come." The door opens and an elder, plump officer walks in.
"Detective, can I have a word," he asks, breathing hard. Emmett nods, waving him forwards. Whatever he's told makes the Detective look up sharply at my brother and I, eyes narrowed and brow creased in suspicion and doubt. Oh boy, what happened now?
The lyrics at the top are from the song Decode by Paramore.
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Burn my Shadow