by Alys West
With her head resting on his broad chest, Zoe felt the familiar tingling sensation creep across her skin. For a moment she simply enjoyed it. Then she tilted her head back to look up at him. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Making my skin tingle when you touch me.”
Finn’s eyebrows rose. He touched his lips to hers. “Like when we kissed this morning?”
The sensation intensified and she giggled. “Exactly like that. But the weird thing is it’s doesn’t happen all the time. It went away when we were in the cottage.”
Finn grinned. “Are you sure you’re not imagining this?”
“Absolutely not!” Zoe punched him playfully. “It wasn’t there in the cottage or the car.”
Finn regarded her silently for a moment, his grey eyes thoughtful. Then saying, “Let me try something,” he took a step back.
“O-kay,” Zoe said, wondering where he was going with this.
“Has it gone?”
“Yes.”
Finn moved back and wrapped his arms around her again. “What about now?”
Relaxing into his embrace, she shook her head. “Still nothing.”
There was silence for a moment before he said, “And now?”
Because she was waiting for it she felt the tingle start where his body touched hers and then ease outwards across her skin. “It’s back.”
“Thought so.” Finn smiled a little smugly. “You’re feeling the energy from my shield.”
“Your what?”
“Shield.” His voice dropped. “You know I told you about spellworkers creating energy fields. This is similar but on a much smaller scale. I direct a pulse of energy over my skin and it keeps me hidden from other people with magic. I don’t need it at the cottage or in the car because I’ve put other forms of protection around them.”
“So without it Maeve could use magic to find you?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my God! I had no idea... I mean I didn’t realise you could use magic to do that.” The increasingly familiar feeling of being totally out of her depth returned. While at the same time she felt a stab of panic at the danger he faced.
“I had no idea you’d be able to feel it,” Finn said. “I’ll have to ask Winston if that’s normal. Last time I was in a relationship there wasn’t any need for shields.”
Zoe’s eyes flicked up to his. “Relationship?” she said softly.
“I know it’s not been very conventional so far but I thought... That is, if that’s what you want?”
Zoe’s face lit up. “Absolutely! Yes! That’s what I want.”
“You’re prepared to date a druid?”
“If you’re prepared to date a woman with crazy dreams!”
“You’re a seer. And I’ll risk it.” Gently he traced a finger along her cheekbone. Zoe closed her eyes, savouring his touch and the amazing sensation creeping through her skin. “Do you mind it?” he said, his finger trailing down her neck. “The tingling?”
She shook her head. “Actually -” she glanced at the rows of waiting passengers and stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear “- it’s kind of exciting. If you know what I mean?”
Finn’s eyebrows shot up. “How exciting?”
Zoe’s gaze darted to the waiting passengers. “I’m not telling you here!”
“Later then? I’ll ring you.”
Blinking, Zoe nodded. He was being so damned normal. Well, not exactly normal because their newly confirmed relationship didn’t have a normal. But he was acting as if things were normal around them. As if he weren’t in this life and death situation. As if they were guaranteed to see each again very soon.
She swallowed trying to force back the surge of emotions. She wanted to cling to him, beg him to be careful, tell him - in case she never got another chance – how much she cared. Only she knew instinctively that was the last thing Finn wanted. He was the one in danger. All she had to do was go home and wait. If Finn needed normal then she’d give him that. She could fall apart when the coach pulled out. Forcing a smile, she said, “Don’t let Winston work you too hard!”
“I can handle him.” Finn grinned confidently. “He’s probably sent you a dozen emails with possible matches for your stone circle by now.”
“He really doesn’t get it that I don’t remember my dreams after I’ve drawn them, does he?”
“He’s relying on you. He’s convinced you’re our secret weapon.”
“Oh, don’t!” Zoe said, bowing her head.
He put his finger under her chin and tipped her face up. “We need your dreams. Without them we’d be completely blind.”
“I know and I’ll ring you,” Zoe said, repeating the promise she’d made earlier in the car. “Only I’ll try not to wake you in the middle of the night next time.”
“That’s probably for the best. I need my sleep tonight. I’m not going to get much tomorrow.”
And there it was again. Impossible to get away from. Tomorrow night. When he might die.
Dread crept into her heart and Zoe wrapped her arms tighter around him. Instantly he responded, pulling her closer until her body pressed against his. Gently, his hand stroked her hair. “What you doing Saturday night?”
Zoe shook her head. She really couldn’t think that far ahead. “I don’t know. Nothing, I don’t think.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. Would you like to go out? I’ll come up to London. We’ll go somewhere fancy with tablecloths and wine lists.”
“But, it’s Beltane and we don’t...”
Finn cut her off. “No buts. Do you want to go out with me or not?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“Then it’s a date.”
Zoe hastily blinked back tears. Not trusting her voice she looked up at him and nodded. Then standing on tiptoes she fastened her fingers in his hair and pulled his head down. After one delicious moment of anticipation Finn’s lips met hers. The kiss was deep, passionate, loaded with emotion. Then they clung to each other, eyes closed, locked in the moment.
Suitcase wheels rattled, feet shuffled forwards as people around them started to move. For another second she clung to Finn, willing herself to hold it together, not to turn into a total teary mess.
Taking a deep breath she pulled away. The gate had opened. People were boarding. Finn picked up her luggage. Without meeting his eyes, she swung her rucksack on to her shoulder, took her portfolio.
Pulling her ticket from her pocket she said hurriedly, “Don’t wait. I’ll be okay from here. You don’t need to stay and wave me off.”
Finn nodded. “Alright. I’d better get back. See what Winston’s up to.”
She scanned his face, trying to commit it to memory. “I’ll see you Saturday,” she said softly.
Finn’s hand slipped beneath her hair, cradled her face. “Saturday,” he murmured. “I’ll be there.”
Turning, he strode down the concourse. When he reached the glass doors onto the street, he looked back, raised his hand. Biting her lip to hold back tears, she did the same.
Chapter 28
“I assure you I’ve done everything I can to ease Penny’s healing crisis,” Maeve said to Tony for what felt like the fiftieth time. The words were, of course, a lie. She could put back the energy she’d taken but she had no intention of doing so. She had the most important ritual of her life to perform tonight and her need was far greater than Penny’s.
It was more disquieting that Tony’s concern for his wife could override his subjugation to Maeve’s control. No matter how slowly she spoke or how long she held his gaze her words were not having their usual effect.
“How could you let this happen?” Tony said in a vehement whisper, pointing at his wife tossing listlessly on the bed. “This isn’t like any healing crisis I’ve ever seen. Look at her! She’s in pain.”
“She just needs a few hours sleep,” Maeve said. “Give the infusion time to do its work and she’ll fine.”
“She’d bett
er be!” He moved towards the bed and took his wife’s hand. “Do you want me to stay while you sleep?” he said.
Deciding this was an opportune moment to make an exit, Maeve stepped hastily out onto the landing. Helena hovered there. “How’s Tanya today?” Maeve said.
“She’s doing much better,” Helena said. “I’ve taken her some tea and toast.”
“Wait here.” Maeve rapped sharply on Tanya’s door. Hearing a quiet ‘come in’, she swung it open. The room stank of sweat and sickness. Tanya sat up in bed, a pallid, greasy haired mess in crumpled pyjamas.
Maeve strode over to the window and threw it open. “Let’s get some fresh air in here. It’ll do you the world of good.” Turning back to the bed, she smiled down at Tanya. “Helena tells me you’re much better today. You can go home.”
“I’m not sure I feel well enough. It’s a long drive and I still feel really weak.”
“Tanya.” Maeve looked her in the eye and spoke slowly, emphasising each word. “You are well enough. You will go home today.”
“Okay, Maeve. If you’re sure.”
Maeve smiled fleetingly. “Good girl. Start packing and I’ll send Helena to give you a hand.”
“Yes, alright. Thank you.” Tanya dragged back the bedclothes and slowly stood. She took a tentative step forward, wobbled and put her hand on the wall. She glanced uncertainly at Maeve.
“Well done,” she said absently, stepping around her guest.
Closing the bedroom door Maeve beckoned to Helena. “Help Tanya to pack. Make sure she leaves as soon as possible and don’t listen to any excuses.”
“No worries,” Helena said. “I’ll get her going.”
Her breakfast tray waited in the office. Sipping earl grey tea, Maeve opened The Seventh Book at the marked page. Slowly she read and reread the steps necessary for the ritual until she felt certain she’d memorised it.
A little before noon she returned to her room and repeated the spell to ascertain Zoe’s location. This time the image wavered, briefly coalesced into a straight road with many lanes filled with cars and lorries before breaking into shimmers of colour.
Maeve put the bowl down and perched on the edge of the table. Where was the blasted girl going? The spell could only reveal her current location. A little less than two hours had passed since she’d been in Bristol. She could be on any motorway within a hundred miles of that city heading in any direction. But if she waited until the girl arrived then it could be too late to go after her.
There had to be some way to find out the girl’s destination, someone who knew where she might run to. Tapping her foot impatiently Maeve ran over in her mind what she knew about Zoe. She’d given a London address when she booked but it was unlikely that the girl would go home. If, indeed, that was her home. The thought of London triggered a memory of the girl’s arrival and abruptly she had a solution.
Throwing open the door she called her employee’s name. A few seconds later she heard the heavy tread of Helena’s feet on the stairs. Before the girl reached her, Maeve said, “Find me a telephone number for Anne. Or was it Anna? I can’t remember her surname. She stayed here a couple of times last year.” About to turn away she remembered the girl’s pictures. They’d been useful before. Possibly they’d provide some clue as to where she was going. “And bring me the portfolio Zoe left behind.”
Helena’s willing smile faded. “I can’t. I’m sorry. It’s not here.”
“What do you mean it’s not here?”
“Zoe’s portfolio isn’t here. A guy came to collect it and her rucksack yesterday evening.”
Maeve stared at her employee. Then she held the door open. “Inside!” Shoulders hunched Helena walked past her. Firmly shutting the door, Maeve pointed to a straight backed wooden chair. “Sit.”
“I’m sorry. You were out and the guy who came said he knew Zoe and she’d asked him to pick her things up and I thought...”
“Quiet!”
“Sorry,” Helena mumbled, staring at the floor.
Maeve walked over to the mirror and, staring unseeingly at her reflection, struggled to control her fury. That he would return to collect Zoe’s luggage spoke of a confidence she hadn’t believed him capable of. He must have known she’d gone out or he’d never have dared return. Zoe’s picture of him standing on the Tor flashed into her mind. He must have been watching the house, waiting for his chance. But even then there’d been a risk. She could have returned at any moment. It didn’t make sense. Unless there was something in Zoe’s luggage – something that she’d missed – for which he’d take that chance.
“What time did he come?” Maeve said, without turning round.
“I guess it was about nine. I was watching TV and then the intercom on the gate buzzed and I thought maybe it was you, that you’d forgotten your keys or something. But it was the Scottish guy who’d rung earlier and he said he’d come to pick up Zoe’s things.”
Maeve spun to look at her employee. “Scottish?”
“Yeah, he’d got this lovely accent. Kind of like Ewan McGregor.”
“What did he look like?”
“He was a good looking guy with dark hair in a ponytail.”
Maeve was silent for a long moment. He had an accomplice. She’d not anticipated that. For a second she felt a stirring of something uncomfortably close to apprehension. Then she remembered who she was dealing with. Whether there was just the Scot or a dozen other druids prepared to fight beside him, it wouldn’t matter if she had Zoe.
Helena broke the silence with a further stream of apologies. Maeve ignored them. After displaying such incompetence there could be only one further use for the girl.
With effort she modulated her voice and smiled. “You’re leaving me after today and I want to give you something before you go. Find me that telephone number and then go to the treatment room. Relax and I’ll be there in a little while to give you some healing.”
“Oh, thank you, Maeve. That’s really kind. I’ll get that number for you right away,” Helena said, edging out of the door.
Maeve took two suitcase from the top of the wardrobe and began to pack. From under the bed she pulled out the black leather bag that held her savings and zipped it closed. She must be ready to leave the moment she obtained the information she needed.
In her office she found numbers for two Annes and an Anna waiting on her desk. The first was delighted to hear from Maeve but didn’t know anyone called Zoe. The second went straight to voice mail and impatiently she left a message. The final call was productive. A few plausible lies were told. The girl was very receptive and promised to call back when she had more information.
Leaving the house through the French windows, Maeve lit the four candles on the altar and took a moment to invoke the power of the goddesses. What she was about to do would ideally take place here but, with Penny and Tony still in the house, that was impossible.
She entered the garden wing and opened the door to the treatment room. Helena lay on her back on the therapy couch. She sat up awkwardly when Maeve walked in. “Relax, dear. This is your time,” Maeve said, her voice low and soothing. Quietly she moved around the room, drawing the curtains, lighting incense, starting the nauseating New Age music, placing a blanket over Helena’s plump body.
“Now I want you to imagine you’re filled with light,” Maeve said, placing her hands on Helena’s heart and throat chakras. Immediately the girl’s aura sprang into focus, a dirty brown layer of insecurity overlaying it. She swept that away. Beneath was the muddied red of repressed anger, orange for addiction and a surprising streak of turquoise indicating a talent for healing.
Maeve closed her eyes and allowed the energy from the aura to flow into her. Calm stole over her and she pulled more deeply, sucking the last drops from the body beneath her hands. Helena started to writhe. Her breathing laboured, she begged Maeve to stop.
Moving her other hand to the girl’s throat, Maeve pressed down on the trachea, choking off words and breath. The girl c
lawed at her grip but she exerted more pressure. Very soon the struggles ceased.
As she usually did at the end of a healing Maeve washed her hands and silenced the music with a flick of a switch. Mechanically she began to fold the blanket but then stopped herself and pulled it over Helena’s bulging eyes.
Disposing of the corpse was the most tiresome part of killing. She didn’t have time to dig a grave. She could leave the body here. She’d be living a new life by the time it was found. But the police would undoubtedly be called and that could lead to complications.
As she blew out the incense a thought occurred. At midnight it would be Beltane. The festival of fire. Nothing cleansed and destroyed like fire.
Chapter 29
Grateful to be at home after hours of travelling, Zoe closed the front door. The final leg of the journey by tube had been over-crowded, unfriendly and a little grimy. A lot like the way London seemed after Glastonbury.
Dumping her bags at the bottom of the stairs, she headed through the lounge to the kitchen. While she waited for the kettle to boil she made a couple of slices of toast. It was a very long time since breakfast and she was starving. The memory of Finn cooking eggs made her smile briefly before the fear returned, settling over her like a suffocating blanket.
Desperate to do something, however little, to help she’d spent the coach journey hunched over the screen of her mobile searching for photographs of stone circles. As they’d reached the M25 she’d found a picture of the Nine Maidens in Devon, which looked almost exactly like her drawing and she’d emailed the link to Finn.
Abandoning her rucksack and portfolio where she’d dropped them, she picked up her bag and carried her tea up the two flights of stairs to her room. As she opened the door, her mobile rang. Hoping it was Finn she snatched it from her bag. Then she saw Anna’s name.
Her friend had texted earlier. Zoe’s response had said only that she was fine and on her way home. Anna had replied immediately wanting to know how she’d left things with Finn. Realising that would only lead to more questions Zoe had ignored it.
Dropping the phone on the bed, Zoe let the call go to voice mail. If only she’d not told Anna about Finn last night. Now her friend would have far too many damned questions. Questions that she couldn’t possibly answer without telling Anna that her beloved Maeve was actually a crazy, homicidal witch.