by Elle Adams
Who were they? And how had they known where I lived?
I looked around. Nobody else walked around the high street on a freezing Wednesday afternoon in December. They were inside in the warmth or at work.
I backed up a few steps, and my phone started to buzz with an incoming call.
The first waxwork man turned in my direction. “Ah, Aurora,” he said. “I thought you might have reconsidered your decision.”
“Get away from my flat.” My voice sounded high, scared, and I cast a desperate look at the windows of the other flats in the hope that someone might look outside. Nobody did.
The man—Mortimer Vale, he’d said his name was—smiled. “Just give us what we need. Give me the journal.”
“I don’t have it.”
The journal’s weight in my rucksack pressed against my spine. Maybe if I threw it at them, it’d buy me enough time to run and call the police. But something in me rebelled at the idea, and besides, they’d easily catch me if they moved as fast as they’d done in the shop. My phone was still ringing, its traitorous buzz giving me away.
“Then I’ll have to take it by force.”
The man moved. I turned and ran, grabbing my phone as I did so. To call the police, not whoever’s epically bad timing had sent three loonies on my tail. What had I ever done to tick them off? I was just a bookshop assistant. No, ex-bookshop assistant. I’d never done anything illegal or odd in my life.
Except stop fires with my bare hands?
The phone’s buzzing ceased, and a female voice said, “Hello, is this Aurora Hawthorn?”
“Sorry, I'm in the middle of an emergency,” I gasped out. “Can I call you back?”
“I’d keep running,” said the female speaker on the other end.
“Excuse me?”
“Keep running,” she repeated. “Towards the river or the nearest source of running water you can find.”
I looked up. The river was across the road from me. How did the caller know where I was? I shoved my phone in my pocket and picked up the pace, flat-out sprinting.
“I wouldn’t run that way.” The voice came from my pocket. Her voice was so loud, it was like she was standing right next to me. “Go to the water. Before they catch you.”
“Who are you? Why are you watching me?” My breath came out in pants. My footsteps hammered on the road, and when I risked a glance behind me, the man was close enough to catch my eye and smile.
They could catch me in a heartbeat, but they were toying with me.
“Keep moving,” said the voice on the other end. “You’re almost there.”
I veered to the right, towards the bridge. There were no cars around—and in a blink, the man appeared in front of me, blocking my path.
I gasped, skidding to a halt.
The woman’s voice rang out from my pocket. “Don’t panic, love. Get into the water.”
There was a path down to the bank, but it was a drop a couple of metres off the ground. The other two men were closing in behind me. Nowhere to run.
“They're vampires, love. They can't cross running water. If you get in, they won’t be able to touch you.”
“I—what?”
Total strangers calling me ‘love’ and talking about vampires was the last thing I needed when my life was in dire peril. I gave a last desperate look at the nearby road. Nobody was coming to my rescue. I had nothing to lose.
I jumped off the bank, my feet hitting the shallows. If nothing else, they might hesitate to follow me into the water. Or maybe they’d drown me. They’d already tried to set me on fire today, after all.
I waded into the water, my feet dragging, the two strangers watching from the bank. They looked angry—and they weren’t following. I glanced at the bridge and saw the third man eyeing me with his lip curled. He didn’t move to follow me, either.
“Are you in the water?” the woman’s voice came from my pocket.
“Yes.”
“Good. Stay there. This isn't the best place to explain, but you're probably feeling very confused right now.”
You think? “That’s one way of putting it.”
“Got the sharp tongue from your father, I see.” The woman chuckled.
“Look—who are you?” I asked. “I'm standing ankle-deep in water with three madmen who tried to burn down my place of employment staring creepily at me.”
“I’ll come and deal with them once Candace gets here. The short answer, love, is that you’re a witch. And I'm Adelaide, your aunt.”
“You—what?”
A shout of triumph came from the other end of the line. “I knew I put that transporter spell somewhere.”
“Ready?” said another female voice in the background. “Estelle, are you coming?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
The call cut out. The next thing I knew, there was someone else standing in the water behind me. I jumped, tripped over a rock, and sank into deeper water to my waist. Holding my phone out of reach of the water, I righted my balance, staring at the odd woman behind me. She wore what appeared to be a long black cloak, which billowed around her in the murky water.
“Cold, isn’t it?” The woman, whose voice matched the one I’d heard on the phone, waded forwards a few steps. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person.”
She was tall and curvy with thick dark red hair bouncing to her shoulders in waves. Pale skin. Freckles. Like me.
Like Dad.
“You’re in trouble, aren’t you?” she said gently.
I must be dreaming. I waved helplessly at the vampires—no, they were not vampires—and said, “They tried to break into my flat.”
“I know, dear,” she said. “Don’t worry, Candace is on her way.”
“Who’s Candace?”
With a popping noise, two more women appeared on either side of the men by the water. There was a flash of fiery light and I cringed back, remembering the burning shelves and the close call I’d had.
The two men fled, their figures blurring as they disappeared from sight. The third, still on the bridge, moved his gaze to me. His eyes narrowed.
“Leave,” said the woman in the water behind me. “If you come anywhere near my family again, I will see to it that you regret it for the rest of your existence.”
Without a word, the third man vanished, leaving nothing but the bare concrete bridge behind.
I was saved. I wanted to lie down. Problem: I was still waist-deep in the river, surrounded by strangers who claimed to be my relations.
The woman in the water said, “Don't just stand there shivering. Come with me. I'll get you out of this place.”
I didn’t move. “Who are you? What in the world is going on?”
“I told you, I’m your Aunt Adelaide,” she said. “That’s Candace and Estelle. And you’re Aurora. I’ve heard all about you.”
I shivered. If not for the icy water drenching me to the waist, I’d be certain I was dreaming. None of this made sense.
“Don’t worry,” said the woman she’d called Candace. “I gave them a good scare. They won’t bother you again, especially when you come to the library.”
I frowned. “The what?”
Adelaide waded to the shore. “The library, of course,” she said. “Your new home.”
2
My heart missed a beat. “I’m sorry, what?”
“We should have this conversation somewhere more appropriate,” she said, climbing out of the river onto the bank, her cloak dragging with the weight of the water. I stood shivering instead of following. She couldn’t be my aunt. I didn’t have any family left. Abe was the closest to a living relative I had, and now…
Adelaide waved an impatient hand. “Come on, climb out. The last thing we need is the normals to spot us. I’d prefer not to have to doctor any memories.”
She was speaking English, but the words refused to connect in my brain. Vampires or not, though, the men had taken off. And I needed to get home, dry off, and lose myself in a good bo
ok until reality made sense again.
“You’ll catch your death of cold like that,” she said, and pulled out a stick of wood. “Come on, get out of the water.”
Something in her voice told me she was used to giving orders to people. Besides, mad or not, standing in the river to prove a point wasn’t a smart idea.
Pointing the stick at her cloak, she gave it a flick. In an instant, the cloak was dry and completely clean as though she’d never set foot in the river.
I got out of the water, climbing up the filthy bank. Adelaide waved the stick again, and the water vanished from my clothes. My sopping wet cardigan stopped weighing me down, and the cold air no longer bit through my sodden clothes. But the shivering didn’t stop. Unless my brain had conjured up a detailed illusion, she’d waved a magic wand and used a spell on me.
Aunt—not my Aunt—Adelaide watched me closely, as though to gauge my reaction.
“Who are you?” I asked. “You can’t be my aunt. I’d have met you before.”
“Complicated rules, dear. Why not take us to your home? It’ll be much more comfortable. I have a feeling we’ll need to chat for a while.”
I opened my mouth to protest and then closed it. My little flat wasn’t designed for entertaining visitors. It barely had room for me to live in it. On the other hand, whoever these women were, they’d saved my life. The least I could do was offer them a cup of tea, Dad-style, and ask them for a reasonable explanation for today’s events.
I retraced my steps home, Adelaide at my side. The other two women walked close behind. All three of them wore the same clothes, long silver-lined black cloaks that looked downright impractical to chase vampires around in. Yet they acted like they did this every day.
I slowed as I reached my flat, pulling out my keys. The apartment block was modern with a decent security system, but if the vampires had wanted to get inside, I had the distinct impression security codes wouldn’t have got in the way. Keys in hand, I hesitated on the threshold.
“They won’t be inside, love,” said Adelaide. “Vampires can’t enter without an invitation.”
I walked into the entryway, then turned to face the three people who claimed to be my relatives. “Okay,” I said. “Say I believe the whole vampire thing… they came into the bookshop without being invited.”
Adelaide waved a hand. “Shops and public places are different. Which floor do you live on?”
“Third, but the elevator isn’t working.”
“No problem.” The younger witch, the one she’d called Estelle, pulled out a stick of wood and pointed it at the closed metal doors of the lift. There was a popping sound, and the doors sprang open.
Okay…
The three women crowded into the lift, and I joined them before the doors closed. The mirrored walls showed all four of us crammed together. Adelaide was either a relation or a ridiculously good lookalike because her eyes and freckles were Dad’s—and mine. Candace, the second aunt, was tall and willowy, like me, her auburn hair wild and loose. And the younger woman, Estelle, had a similar figure to Adelaide and her hair cut to chin-length. She smiled at me in the mirror. She had Dad’s eyes, too.
I was thoroughly unnerved by the time I stepped out of the lift onto the tattered carpet of the third-floor corridor and unlocked the door to my flat.
“This is… cosy,” Adelaide commented.
My face heated as the three newcomers looked curiously around the cramped space of my one-room studio flat. I didn’t think it was that untidy—all the books were neatly arranged on the shelves, there weren’t any clothes lying on the floor and I kept the kitchen clean—but I detected a hint of pity in Adelaide’s expression that suggested she’d expected something akin to a penthouse apartment.
“Uh…” I pulled out the chair at the tiny desk in the corner. “I don’t have enough chairs. I don’t often have visitors over.”
Now I sounded pathetic. While I might spend a lot of time reading, I liked people just fine—I just liked books better. But Laney was the only person who came over on a frequent basis. Social butterfly, I was not.
“Not a problem.” Estelle waved her wand, and a sofa popped into existence, followed by two armchairs.
I stared for a moment, then rested my hand on the top of the sofa. It was solid. Solid enough to pass out on, anyway.
“I fetched them from the library, don’t worry.” Estelle nodded to Adelaide. “Where do you want to start?”
“Make some tea,” said Adelaide. “Aurora looks like she needs it.”
I smiled weakly and collapsed into an armchair.
“Is she going to faint?” Candace squinted at me. “Put your head between your legs. Or is it behind your ears? I never remember.”
“I’ll make the tea,” said Estelle, bounding over to the kitchen. “It’ll make you feel better.”
“Yes, it will.” Adelaide stepped to my side. “Candace, stop staring at her. You’re not helping.”
Candace tutted and took the other armchair. “If it’s any consolation, dearie, this is about to become the best day of your life.”
I had my sincere doubts. I rested my head on my knees, my considerably crinkled skirt bunching around my ankles.
I was officially at rock bottom. I had no job. By the month’s end, I’d lose my home. As for my family… it made no sense that Dad wouldn’t have told me if I had a whole pack of relatives who somehow knew there were strange men after his journal. Oh, and who could appear out of thin air. And do magic.
It made even less sense that a bunch of strangers would be chasing me or Dad, come to that. Why did they want his journal so much?
I looked up when Estelle reappeared, wielding a tray. She’d made tea and scraped together some biscuits on a plate. I’d forgotten I had any. Maybe she’d conjured them with that wand of hers.
Wands. Right. I’d deal with that later. First, I turned to the woman still gawking at me from the neighbouring armchair.
“So you’re my aunt, too?” I asked. I’d get the newfound family part out the way first.
“Yes, I’m your aunt Candace,” she said, stuffing half a biscuit in her mouth. “Rescue missions are hungry work.”
Adelaide rolled her eyes and took a seat on the sofa. “Don’t mind her. We haven’t seen so much excitement in weeks.”
“Oh.” I paused, trying to get my thoughts together. “You’re my dad’s sisters. He never mentioned you before. And…” I turned to the third newcomer, who offered me the tray. I took a mug—one of my only nice ones—and she sat in the remaining seat on the sofa.
“I’m Estelle, your cousin,” said the younger woman. “Your Aunt Adelaide is my mother.”
“Cousin,” I repeated. “I have two aunts and a cousin who Dad forgot to mention for my entire life?”
“Two cousins,” said Estelle. “Cass is busy running the library while we’re gone. Three vampires are too much for one person to deal with.”
One vampire was too much for me. My hand gripped the mug tightly.
“Drink that, dear,” Aunt Adelaide said. “It’ll make you feel better.”
The tea smelled odd, herbal. I wasn’t normally a fan of flavoured tea, but a warm drink sounded like heaven right now. A warm drink and a good book.
I took a long sip. Warmth spread through my body all the way to my toes, and my racing heart slowed. I no longer felt like I might faint. My head cleared enough to present a dozen new questions.
“You had my number, Aunt Adelaide,” I said. “How? And how did you know I was in danger?”
“Oh, I set up a spell to watch you,” Aunt Adelaide said. “When Roger died, I decided to keep an eye on you in case you were ever in trouble. I left one of our books in the shop, with a spell on it so nobody could buy it. It was on the front display.”
“Was it called The Beginner’s Guide to Horticulture, by any chance?” I asked. The book had glowed when the vampires showed up, and again when Abe was firing me.
“Yes, it was,” said Aunt Adelaide.
“We did it at the funeral. I’m sorry we weren’t able to show our faces, but there are rules, and we didn’t know if you were magical or not.”
My insides pitched down. “You weren’t at the funeral. I’d remember if you were.”
My aunts Candace and Adelaide exchanged glances.
“We were,” Aunt Adelaide said gently. “As I said, there are rules. We can’t reveal ourselves to normals. So we set a watch on you to alert us if it turned out you had magic.”
“Magic.” I slumped back in my seat, clutching the mug to my chest. “Dad was normal. A normal. That’s like… Muggles, right?” I couldn’t believe I was even having this conversation.
But whether they were lying about being related to Dad or not, I’d seen things today that I couldn’t rationally explain away. Vampires who moved swifter than light and started a fire with a sprinkle of sand. Strange women who looked like Dad, who dried my clothes with a wave of a wand. And I’d stopped a fire using… magic.
“Right,” Estelle said. “We’re not allowed to expose our magic to normals. No exceptions. That’s why we couldn’t reveal ourselves at the funeral. We try to keep a low profile.”
“Dad didn’t tell me a thing.” I looked at the floor, confused emotions warring inside me.
“Well, he married a normal, see,” said Aunt Adelaide. “The rules are clear: don’t tell normals about the magical world. So, he left our world behind and decided to raise you as a normal. But I felt when you used magic, Aurora.”
“Rory,” I mumbled. “Most people call me Rory. When I stopped the fire—that was magic?”
“Stopped the fire?” Estelle asked.
“The spell didn’t show us what you did,” Aunt Candace put in. “It warned us you were in danger.
“It was at the bookshop,” I said. “I—Dad’s bookshop. But those…” I couldn’t say ‘vampires’. “Those men tried to burn it down. They started a fire.”
“And you used magic to put out the fire?” Estelle guessed.
I shook my head. “That book—the one you mentioned—started glowing, and something… weird happened.” I grasped for the words to describe the way I’d felt—the sudden urge to grab the pen and write. “I wrote the word stop. And it stopped.”