“Have sex. Yes, Amanda, we’d have to fuck,” she said bluntly.
“Um, thank you for thinking of me, but I don’t think I swing that way, you know?”
Georgina smiled. “Heh. That’s okay. We’re friends, so I thought I’d ask.”
“Why did you think I would be cool with that?”
“It’s only sex, Mandy. You do it with strangers most days, so what’s the difference?”
She thought about it for a moment. Georgina was right, but this was different. It wasn’t the action that made her stomach go tight with anxiety. It was the possibility that she might ruin her friendship with Georgina. She didn’t think it was worth it. Or maybe it went even deeper than that, she thought. Maybe the sisters had really done a number on her head. Was there a hint of Catholic guilt eating at her subconscious? Did she think it was wrong? She shook her head, hoping to dislodge that troubling thought. No. It just wasn’t worth her friendship with Georgina, that’s all. And yet…
But Georgina accepted her rebuttal, and called another friend. She went out and did the job with someone else, and Amanda spent the whole night thinking about what it would have been like if she had done it. If she were honest with herself, part of her was kind of excited by the idea, but it scared her as well. It took a huge mental leap to admit to herself that the idea of being with a woman was kind of exciting. It was taboo, but that was what made it interesting.
She ended up eating another slice of Georgina’s heavenly cheesecake while she was out, just to try to take her mind off of the idea of sex with Georgina.
It didn’t work, but was a tasty distraction while it lasted.
When Georgina eventually returned, Amanda asked her how it went.
“I thought you weren’t interested,” Georgina teased.
“I, well… Um… I’m not, to be sure… But, you know,” she said, swallowing guiltily.
Georgina raised her eyebrows. “You are interested, aren’t you?”
“No! No, I’m not. I just wanted to make sure you had a good night, you know?”
Georgina smiled. “Of course. Oh, helped yourself to more of my cake, I see?”
Pushing the memory to the back of her mind, Amanda took a breath. She felt like she was stood on a fence, ready to fall either way, and unsure which way to lean. She could feel Maria’s gentle warmth, and looking up, knew she could lose herself in those deep brown eyes. She was tempted. So very tempted.
Amanda reached around to Maria’s hand and lifted it off her hip. She stepped back a touch and smiled. “I’m flattered, I am, but I’m not…. you know…,” she stammered, unsure how to voice it. “At least, not right now.”
Maria smiled back. “Of course, I’m sorry, I thought I was getting signals from you. You can’t blame me for trying, can you?”
“I don’t mind, no. I like you, Maria. Sorry,” she answered, wondering if she really had been giving off signals. Maybe? She had been admiring Maria from a distance a little bit. She kind of fascinated Amanda, although she wasn’t sure why. Or was she not willing to admit it to herself?
“I hope I’ve not offended you,” Maria asked, concern crossing her face.
“No, don’t worry, you haven’t. We’re fine.”
“Good. I’m sorry.”
“To be sure. No harm done,” Amanda answered, her tone conciliatory.
Maria smiled. “So, are you looking for some fun and frolics tonight?”
“Not really. I’ve had a crazy few days, so I just wanted to have a drink and chill out a bit.”
“Of course, I heard that you met your first Nomad today with Raven.”
“Yep, some woman called Angel, I think. She wasn’t much trouble,” Amanda mused.
“Well, there were two of you against her, and in a public place, as well. Don’t underestimate her. Angel is a well-known and dangerous Nomad.”
“I won’t.” Amanda wasn’t worried. Angel hadn’t put up much of a fight, so she was feeling pretty confident.
The night went on, and Amanda circulated through the people she knew, speaking with Gentle Water, Raven, Maria, and Royston. Maya was there, but they didn’t talk much.
“Is Maya okay? She seems quiet,” Amanda said to Royston partway through the night as she looked over at the brooding figure standing at the balcony.
Royston looked over. “She’s fine. She likes to keep to herself. She has her own stuff to deal with.”
“Her own stuff?” Amanda asked. “Does she have her own coven or something?”
“Oh, okay, I’m guessing no one told you. She’s a Scion. A vampire, to be precise,” he said.
“She’s a vampire? You mean, she drinks blood?”
“That’s part of it, yes.”
“So there are two Scions in the Legacy Coven? Her and Balor?”
“Correct. Some are more involved with the Magi than others. They have their own society and internal politics to deal with. But we don’t get too involved with that. Most Scions don’t associate with us much, and those who do, don’t usually mix with their own kind.”
“Good to know,” Amanda said, looking back over at Maya, who was still standing at the balcony, looking out over the sea of people below. She looked lonely, but also clearly didn’t need or want company, either.
A little later, Amanda decided to explore the Museum. The place was huge, and many of the side rooms were deserted or had just one or two other people in them.
She was admiring a painting in one of the side rooms when someone spoke to her from behind.
“And you must be Amanda,” said the dusky female voice.
Turning, Amanda looked up into a face she had not seen before. The woman had a long black mane of hair, shot through the purple streaks. It framed her angular face as she stood there in an elegant, glittery-black mermaid dress. Amanda could also feel the Essentia that was leaking off of her. She didn’t need to open her Aetheric Sight to know this woman was a Magus, and probably a powerful one.
Amanda smiled and offered her hand. “To be sure, and you are?”
The woman took Amanda’s hand gently in hers and gave a slight smile. It was as if she had just had something confirmed to her, something that made her happy. The woman didn’t answer right away, and Amanda was just starting to wonder if she might need to ask for her name again when the woman seemed to rise from her internal thoughts.
“Yasmin,” she answered.
“Charmed.” Amanda smiled.
“Are you here with your Legacy friends?” Yasmin asked.
“I am. They’re over that way, you could go and say hi,” Amanda offered.
“I’ll pass, thank you. I just wanted to introduce myself as I had heard of your arrival,” Yasmin explained. “I’m sure we will cross paths again soon.”
“It seems like everyone knows who I am,” Amanda mused out loud. “But I have no idea who’s who here.”
“Probably best that way, there could be some unsavoury individuals within these walls,” Yasmin answered with a knowing smile.
“Perhaps. Are you sure you won’t come over and say hello? Go on, they’re a friendly bunch, so they are,” Amanda urged her.
“Maybe another time.” Yasmin smiled. “I’ll see you around, Amanda.” As Yasmin sashayed away, Amanda couldn’t help but admire her and the way she glided over the polished floor. She was a stunning and yet dangerous beauty.
- A passage from Royston’s diary
I got a message today. She’s called a meeting. It seems the time has come. Here we go…
Escape
London, England
Liz, along with her friends, walked up the centre of the church, ushered along from behind by Vito. The church priest was beside this intense man, who had saved them from the killer at Stephen’s house. Everything felt a little unreal as if she were dreaming. She wondered if she might wake up suddenly, back in her own bed, cosy and warm. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw flashes of her mum, dead in that chair, or Ben, his head tilting back, his neck gap
ing wide as blood spilt everywhere.
“Yes, yes, I got the message. You can use my office in the back. What’s this all about?” the priest asked.
“Vatican business, sorry, it’s on a need-to-know only basis. We just need the use of your church for a night,” Vito explained.
So, Vito was from the Vatican. Was he a priest? Liz wondered.
“I mean, okay, sure, it’s yours, but wouldn’t a hotel be better?”
“No,” Vito answered, refusing to elaborate further.
Liz and her friends were shown into an office at the back of the church, behind the altar. It was a small room with a humble desk covered in various papers. Hymnbooks stood in stacks on the floor, while a wardrobe stood ajar revealing the robes the priest wore for mass and other events.
Vito grabbed three chairs from around the room and placed them in the middle of the office. “Sit,” he barked. It was an order rather than a request.
They sat down, herself on one end beside Fran, and Stephen on the other end.
She held her sister's hand, gripping it tightly as emotions and images of death filled her mind.
“So, tell me what happened tonight,” Vito said once they were settled. Liz looked up at him. He seemed a little annoyed or accusatory, and Liz started to take a dislike to him. When he’d rescued them, she hadn’t really looked at him in great detail; all she knew was that he’d saved their lives, and for that, she was grateful. But now that they were away from the immediate danger, and she actually had calmed down enough to assess him on his own, her opinion of him was starting to drop.
He seemed to have an agenda here, but she wasn’t sure what it was yet. Liz didn’t want to speak to him and kept quiet. Luckily, her sister was apparently feeling a little more vocal.
“We nearly got killed by a madman. You were there, you rescued us,” she answered, sounding a touch annoyed by the question.
“Yeah, thanks for that,” Stephen added. “But what about our parents? Should we go to the police? He killed our friend…” Stephen looked away, his voice cracking with emotion before he could finish.
Hearing him get emotional caused Liz’s breath to catch in her own throat as she thought about Ben. She thought about the thug who killed him with a smile on his face. Cut his head off. The sight of the open wound on Ben’s neck flashed into her mind again. She felt sick, but somehow held it together.
“Ben Marshal, yes. But what interests me more is why the Warlock killed him.”
“What?” Fran asked.
“Why did that Warlock kill your parents and friend? What was he after?”
Liz’s mind went immediately to the one thing they had with them that might be of interest to a Warlock like Nate. The golden book was still in Stephen’s bag. Did Vito know it was there?
“No idea,” Fran answered, her tone defiant. “This is ridiculous. All this talk of Warlocks is crazy. We should go to the police and report him for God’s sake.”
Vito moved quickly, stepping forward he swung his hand around in a powerful slap that caught Fran full on the cheek. The sound of his palm hitting her filled the room. She yelled. The force of the hit was so strong that she was knocked sideways, away from Liz and into Stephen. He fell. Fran fell, and their chairs were knocked out from under them.
Liz gripped the seat of her chair with her hands, rooted to the spot.
“Hey, there’s no need for…” the priest called out.
“Shut up, Father. And you…” Vito spat, looking to Fran, “don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, Witch.” He drew out that last word, filling his voice with as much hate and bile as he could muster.
Liz watched Stephen roll and get up, anger glinting like cold steel in his eyes, but Vito had seen it coming and reached for something under his jacket. He withdrew a gun and pointed it at Stephen before he could move in.
Stephen froze and raised his hands. “Hey, chill out, let’s discuss this rationally.”
Liz looked down to see Fran on the floor, pushing herself up, but staring at Liz, her eyes wide.
Liz mouthed the word, “What?” silently, while Vito’s attention was on Stephen.
With her eyes, Fran looked at Vito and then back at Liz, and then did it again. Vito was standing right in front of her but was staring at Stephen, his gun pointing at her friend’s head.
Liz looked back at Fran, who silently formed the word, “Now.”
Liz took a breath as she pulled her foot back and glanced up at the priest, who was opposite her on the other side of Vito. He’d seen the silent communication between her and her sister, and nodded to her, urging her on. With all the force she could muster, Liz kicked out. As she attacked, the priest lunged for the gun.
Her foot connected with Vito’s closest leg just below the knee. He yelped as the priest grabbed the gun and raised it up, away from Stephen. It discharged once, its report echoing around the room and deafening Liz for a moment.
Vito fell to the floor as the priest prised the gun from him and then trained it on the Inquisitor.
Liz still sat in the chair, fear gripping her and keeping her rooted to the spot. She watched Stephen help Fran up as she rubbed the bright red slap mark on her cheek.
“Are you okay?” Fran asked.
“I’m fine,” Liz answered.
“You guys best go, I’ll keep him here,” the priest said.
“Thank you, Father,” Stephen said.
“No thanks required. I had no idea we let people like this into the ranks of the church. I will have some choice letters to send to the Vatican after today,” the priest said. “Now, go, before his friends get here. There’s a backdoor through there.”
Stephen nodded and turned to his friends. “Let’s go.”
Fran grabbed Liz by the hand and led her out. Liz didn’t resist, she just followed, feeling ever more bewildered by the day's events. Within moments, they were out the back and walking up a service road behind the church.
“What do we do now?” Fran asked.
“I don’t know,” Stephen answered, hiking his backpack further up his shoulder, the weight of the book inside giving him comfort. “Do you think he was after the book?”
“I don’t see what else he would be interested in,” Fran stated as they rushed up the road approaching a T-junction.
“Who are these people?” Stephen asked.
“I don’t know, and I don’t want to find out. So, which way?” Fran asked, looking left and right. Busy London streets awaited them at either end of the road.
“We should go to the police,” Liz cut in.
“Is that a good idea?” Stephen asked. “They’ll take the book.”
“Forget the damn book,” Fran barked. “I think we need to get help. We can’t fight these people off. They’ve already killed Ben. Do you want to get us killed, too?”
“No, but can we just think about this for a minute?” Stephen asked.
“Ugh, sure. Which way?”
“Let’s go right,” he suggested and set off up the road. They had walked just shy of ten meters when a figure stepped out of the shadows and started to approach them. Liz stopped at the same time as her friends as they all peered into the darkness. As the figure approached the light, they finally got a good look at her. It was the blonde woman from the magic shop. She smiled as she approached them.
Liz felt her stomach drop. Was there no escaping them?
Liz remembered this woman’s sudden appearance in the Magic shop when they’d gone to show Mr Travers the text they’d copied from the book. He’d looked at the script with interest, but before they’d really discussed it, the blonde woman was standing right behind them looking over their shoulders at the papers.
“How curious,” she’d said.
Her sudden appearance had shocked everyone, including Mr Travers. Stephen had grabbed the papers from the shopkeeper's hand and led the sprint from the shop into the street. When the woman had suddenly appeared from a side street, the fear that had bloomed in her chest in the
shop multiplied several times over.
But that fear couldn’t stop other, stranger and equally worrying thoughts she’d felt on seeing the blonde properly in the street for the first time.
She’d never say this out loud, but frankly, the woman was gorgeous. Liz had no interest in women beyond seeing them as friends. She was only interested in boys, but there was something different about this woman. Something beguiling about her that overrode her usual feelings and stirred something deep within her. She wondered if Fran had felt the same. She knew that Stephen had been captivated by this beauty, that went pretty much without saying, but these feelings were alien to her.
She’d been at a loss to explain them, then. And now, as the woman swanned up the road towards them, her hips swaying as she shifted her weight from leg to leg, that same longing and arousal flooded back, creating a yearning and a need inside her that she was both captivated and disgusted by.
“Who are you?” Fran asked as they backed away.
Good thinking, Liz thought, keep her talking and distracted. If only she’d thought of that, but her mind was elsewhere.
“My darlings, why did you run away from me earlier? I only wished to talk to you,” she purred.
Her clothing was a walking cliché, Liz thought. The sexy secretary look was so out of date and out of touch with what the world was like now, she thought. And yet, there was still something about this woman that made Liz want to ravish her and to feel those stocking-clad legs wrapping around her.
Those thoughts and feelings hadn’t overridden her sense of survival, though. While she might be inexplicably attracted to her, she was also getting a strong impression from this blonde that she was a threat. She was dangerous, and she should be avoided. That was the only reason she was not running up to her and begging her to take her right then and there on the street. Instead, she continued backing away, confusion and conflict filling her mind.
“Talk? You just wanted to talk?” Fran asked.
Liz looked sideways. Stephen looked like he was in a daze. Fran was pulling him back, away from the blonde. Fran seemed the least affected by this angelic woman.
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