They’d made it to the narrow bridge that crossed Aberfin River. It was only wide enough for one car. Nick slowed down to ensure no vehicles were approaching from the other direction, and when he did, he glanced at his rear mirror and saw a red car pull over and put on its hazard lights. The car had been driving behind them for a while now.
He crossed the bridge cautiously, then continued, ‘There are people who say they are Wiccans or witches and do those kinds of things, like trying to hex people, but they’re usually just wannabes or they want some sort of power. Most Wiccans believe you can do whatever you want as long as it harms no one, that whatever you do comes back to you times three. So if you hurt someone, it will come back to you worse. If you give out positive energy, even more will be returned to you.’
Juliet scratched behind her ear. ‘It sounds a bit unbelievable to me.’
‘Says the woman who sees ghosts …’ he mocked, maybe flirtatiously.
She turned towards him as if to retaliate, but then pushed herself back into the chair. She sat up straight and crossed one leg over the other. ‘If I hadn’t seen your mum’s spirit, I would have thought you were crazy, telling people you could see the future.’
That was blunt. ‘I might have thought you were crazy too.’ Nick laughed. ‘Anyway, you’re the only person I’ve told.’ He smiled and turned to observe her reaction.
‘Really? Why?’
‘Who else would believe me? And because you ran off after the incident, nobody knew you were there. I don’t think the drunk driver even saw you. If I had told people I saw the future and saved a woman’s life, they would think I had delusions of grandeur, imagining a woman into existence for me to be all heroic and save in the nick of time.’
Juliet laughed quite hard and twisted to look at him. ‘I should have stayed. I’m sorry about that.’ Her posture seemed to relax, though Nick sensed laughter didn’t come naturally to her.
‘I’ll let you off this time,’ he teased, ‘but don’t run away next time I save your life.’
Juliet went silent for a moment, apparently not impressed by Nick’s attempt at flirtation. Maybe she didn’t like his suggestion that she would need saving again. Maybe she didn’t realise he was joking. Maybe she wasn’t here to be flirted with. Maybe she didn’t like him, full stop. Maybe I’m completely overthinking this.
‘How old are you?’ asked Juliet.
‘Twenty-four, almost twenty-five. You?’
‘I’m twenty-five. I’ll be twenty-six in December.’ She scanned his face. ‘You look younger than twenty-four.’
‘Is that a bad thing?’
‘No … not really.’ Her voice wavered.
Nick had been driving for almost ten minutes and hadn’t seen any houses for a couple of miles. The road only seemed to go in one direction.
The red car from earlier appeared in Nick’s mirror view. Thinking it odd, he signalled and pulled up on a muddy side, then observed the red car’s reaction. It mimicked his behaviour, slowing then stopping, keeping its distance. Nick twisted and gave a hard stare through the back window, but he couldn’t make out who was in the driver’s seat.
‘What’s going on, Nicolas?’ Juliet turned to see what he was squinting at.
‘I think we’re being followed.’
She pulled a face of disbelief. ‘Why would anyone follow us?’
‘I’m not sure, but I’ve seen that red car behind us twice now. It keeps pulling over and staying well behind every time I slow down.’
Juliet looked about to respond, but sounds drew her attention away. Nick followed her gaze. The red car had started up and was roaring towards them. He panicked at first, thinking it planned to smash straight into his Corsa, but it drove firmly to the side.
If someone’s following me, then they can catch up and show themselves. He felt ridiculous; why would anyone tail him like this?
The car slowed as it neared, and Nick finally glimpsed the driver.
Alan.
In the passenger’s seat was the tall man who’d tried to punch Nick at Creaky Crystals. In the back was the greasy-haired thief-lady.
Alan pulled in front of Nick’s car, blocking the way, then Nick heard him kill the engine. All three stepped out of the red vehicle.
‘What’s going on, Nicolas?’ Juliet looked at him with concern.
‘Erm … don’t worry. It’s just a colleague who’s annoyed at me. I’ll talk to him and sort it out.’ Nick’s hands shook and betrayed his confident words. He shuffled out of the car and closed the door behind him. ‘Alan … what’s this all about?’ He tried an agreeable tone.
Alan growled back, ‘You know what it’s about.’
A gentle thud came from behind Nick; Juliet had also stepped out of the car.
The tall man still wore a black bomber jacket, and the lady had greasy hair again. Alan, although rather chubby, charged for Nick and took him by surprise. He tackled him rugby-style, but Nick managed to keep his footing and twist out of the hold.
‘Wha-what are you doing?’ Nick asked a bit frantically. He put his hands up in a non-threatening way, treading backwards.
Alan was panting already, bent over and holding his knees. He didn’t even try to answer.
The tall man took sidesteps with his arms outstretched, moving like a giant crab in his bomber jacket, and ended up positioned behind Nick. Alan had caught his breath by now, but his face was burning red, his glare full of determination.
After a quick glance back, Nick realised what they were doing. Surrounding him. But he wasn’t sure where the thief-lady was. He had to keep his eyes trained on these two.
Where’s my ability now? his mind shouted at itself, imagining what might happen next. It could come in handy here! The thudding in his chest was painful. ‘Why are you doing this?’ he asked.
But Alan’s response was aimed at the tall man. ‘Get him, then!’ he barked and pointed at Nick.
Hearing the scuffle of grit from behind, Nick pivoted and ducked under the big hands that came at him. But the man’s arms were long; he quickly stretched back, grabbed Nick by the hood of his jacket, and then propelled him towards Alan.
Nick stumbled headfirst into his colleague, who locked him in a bear hug. He tried to look for Juliet, afraid that the greasy-haired lady might be accosting her, but Alan squeezed him so tight that his vision blurred. His heartbeat was loud in his ears.
Suddenly Alan shoved him forward. Nick blinked as he stumbled again. His sight began to clear. Fingers gripped him once more—the tall man’s. Then a strike took him in the back of the knee. He dropped to the ground.
Grit pressed against his face. Before he could do anything, spit hocked out of his mouth. Sharp pains hit his back repeatedly, digging into him. He curled up and covered his head to protect it from the blows. Looking down, he saw a foot kick into his stomach. A retching sound broke out of him, and then he groaned in agony.
‘Stop!’ he heard Juliet scream.
The kicking went on. He tried desperately to shield up and defend himself. Hard shoes connected with his shins, back, and arms. He dared not look up, in case they kicked his face, but he knew Alan and the man in the bomber jacket were the ones attacking him.
Writhing on the bitter ground, he closed his eyes and wished for it to stop. He tried to shout, ‘Help!’ but it came out deflated.
He heard the short lady talking to Juliet in a strong accent, ‘Stay near car, no move!’
There was nothing he could do. If they continued, they would kill him. He could only wait and hope for the attack to stop.
The frightening vision had come true, and Nick just prayed it would end well.
Chapter Twelve
JULIET MARCHED TOWARDS the scuffle, knowing she had to break it up, knowing she had to help Nicolas—but how? The two men threw Nicolas around like a rag doll, before one of them brought him to the ground.
Then it became a whole lot worse.
‘Stop!’ Juliet screamed. But in their frenzy, the attac
kers paid her no mind.
From one side a woman intercepted her. The object that flashed in the lady’s hand compelled Juliet backwards, step by step, until her spine thumped against something cold and hard.
‘Stay near car, no move!’ the woman screamed at Juliet, her face furious but with a hint of vulnerability. Juliet stood much taller than the lady, but she did as she was told. Reflections of the white sky glinted on the knife, and the woman’s hand gripped it so tightly that her knuckles were chalky and pronounced.
She pointed the blade at Juliet, fixing her in place.
What have I gotten myself into? Fear tingled over Juliet’s skin, taking her strength away. She leaned against the side of Nick’s car and held her hands up. A shake began in her knees, a rolling in her stomach, but she tried to stiffen her composure and keep despair at bay.
She looked at the woman’s pale and unclean skin, then stared at the oily and straggly hair brushing her shoulders. There was desperation in her eyes, not malice. Juliet didn’t think the lady would shamelessly use the knife on someone, but even so, that didn’t reassure her.
A desperate person could be an extremely dangerous person.
Hopelessness rushed into Juliet again as she heard Nick cough violently. There were thuds every time they kicked him. And each thud made her flinch.
One of the men shouted, ‘You didn’t see anything, Nick. I need my job. Why do you think I was stealing? Not for the bloody fun of it … I need the money!’ The man grunted and his foot went thud-thud-thud against Nick, who was curled up in a foetal position. ‘Tell Mora about any of this and next time will be worse.’
The other man, tall, with dark, shaved hair, laughed in a simulated manner, as if the approval of the fatter man meant the world to him.
Juliet wanted to scream for them to stop again, but what good had it done before? The man shouting at Nick had said the next time would be worse—at least that was some reassurance that they didn’t intend to kill him. Juliet just hoped they wouldn’t accidentally take his life, and then have to silence her, too.
The knife … She looked intently at the woman’s fingers wrapped around the haft. If I could take it from her, I could threaten them all to leave. But even thinking about holding the weapon made her palm cringe. No, she told herself. It will be over soon. From what she’d gathered, the attackers were just trying to teach Nicolas a lesson for some reason.
The greasy-haired lady flicked her eyes down at the knife, then shot a suspicious glare at Juliet. ‘You no try!’ she warned, and gave a threatening jab of the blade.
The road was so quiet, seeming to amplify the awful sounds of the beating.
With hatred, Juliet stared at the two attackers, trying to will them to stop with her mind. Then she noticed a small figure stood by one of them. A young boy.
A shifting aura outlined the kid. He wore only white shorts, but they were ruffled and stained. His bare skin was pallid and his feet were raw with dirt. Juliet placed him at about eight years old when he must have died. The spirit looked saddened, watching the chubby man booting Nick.
Then the boy glided over to Juliet. He spoke to her, and she listened attentively.
Once she’d grasped the words, she yelled towards the attackers, ‘Alan, that’s you, isn’t it?’ She pointed at the rounder one. ‘Carl is upset. He doesn’t like seeing you this way.’
Alan stopped kicking. He motioned, cutting short the tall man’s swing of his leg. ‘How do you know about Carl?’
‘He’s ashamed of you and what you’re doing.’
‘Nick must have told you about Carl. You can’t guilt-trip me, woman!’ he spat back.
‘He’s here now, talking to me, and he’s watching what you’re doing. He’s telling me things. When he was at school, he told on a group of kids for stealing marbles from his best friend, Mark, and then Miss Andrews made them give the marbles back.’ She spoke as fast and clearly as possible.
Alan’s eyes steadily widened, and the tall man beside him frowned confusedly. The woman with the knife flicked her head back and forth between Juliet and the men.
‘Carl found you on his lunch break,’ Juliet continued. ‘You were the year above him. He was frightened that the other kids were going to get him. That’s what he said to you: Alan, I’m scared, they’re going to get me after school!’ She rinsed out the eerie feeling from repeating the spirit word for word.
‘St-stop it,’ Alan mumbled sheepishly and shook his head. ‘I don’t want to hear.’
‘After school, the kids did come, and they started to push Carl around. You scared them off and saved him from the bullies. But now Carl’s upset. You’re frightening him, just like those bullies did.’
‘Errm … eerrhh …’ Alan twitched. ‘Let’s leave … Come on. Now!’ He gestured at the other assailant and the woman.
Before scrambling off, the greasy-haired lady gave Juliet a sharp leer and hissed, ‘Witch!’
The three of them shuffled into the red car and were out of sight in no time. Pivoting on the spot, Juliet searched for the spirit of Carl. He was gone.
Nick uncovered his head and rolled over on his back, moaning. Slowly, he tried to stand up. Juliet came to support him as he stumbled. ‘I’m sorry about this, Juliet,’ he wheezed.
‘Okay. Let’s just get back to the car and we’ll talk about it.’ She held onto him, but he moved away proudly.
‘I’m okay. I can move about. It just hurts like hell.’
Juliet didn’t reply, but walked around to the passenger’s side of the car. She sat down and noticed sharp twisting pains by her heart. It must have ached from how much it had raced. She wasn’t sure if Nicolas was the type of person she wanted to be around. What sort of actions did he take to warrant being followed and attacked?
Out in the middle of nowhere, it was silent now. No cars drove by, no houses were near, the road was bare, and the trees were statues. Nick sat with his hands covering his face.
‘You need to explain to me what that was all about,’ said Juliet.
She heard him sniffle but couldn’t tell if he was okay or not. This time one of the painful twists took her in the heart; she felt awful for him, that he’d been ganged up on and assaulted, but at the same time, her mind was conflicted.
Why did this happen? He must have done something to annoy those people. No matter how much sympathy she could muster for him, she nonetheless hoped he had a good explanation for why she was just held at knifepoint.
Chapter Thirteen
EMBARRASSMENT JANGLED ABOUT him. He didn’t want to show his face to her. He wasn’t crying, but the way he was shoved to the ground and beaten was humiliating. Juliet would see him as a weak man, unable to stick up for himself.
Dropping his hands to his lap, he went to answer her question. The movement caused pain to flare up and down his body. ‘Alan’s a colleague at work. Items were being stolen …’ He laid out the story of Alan’s thievery. His voice may have sounded whiny, strained, or even desperate, but he wanted Juliet to know he’d done the right thing.
Juliet appeared thoughtful and didn’t speak at first. While Nick waited for a response, he couldn’t help think about Juliet’s ability. It had saved him from being beaten unconscious. But her telling him about it and him actually seeing it in action were totally different. It reminded him of the sort of mediums on television who performed for live audiences and plucked out random names and information—only Juliet was more exact and fluent than anyone Nick had seen on the small screen.
Finally she spoke. ‘It should have been your manager to deal with it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You didn’t tell your manager about it. It’s her store and her items. She had a right to be told.’
‘Erm … Alan has worked with her for years. I couldn’t just tell her.’ He squinted. ‘She would have been devastated.’
Juliet sighed. ‘You don’t have a right to coddle people like that. She can deal with her own problems like the rest of the w
orld does.’
‘I was just …’
‘I know, I know,’ she interrupted and held up a hand. ‘I understand why you didn’t tell her. But as a manager myself, I would want my staff to tell me.’
‘Hmmm … Well, you’re not Mora.’
‘Look,’ she said sternly, ‘it’s better to tell people the truth, or else you’re depriving them of the chance to grow and learn in their own ways. You think you’re protecting them, but it’s insulting to treat someone like a child when they’re not.’ Her voice had risen steadily, almost to a shout.
Nick was hurt. As mortifying as it was to be easily beaten up, this was worse. He’d assumed she’d understand.
For a long while it was silent, until the tension noticeably lessened.
‘I’m sorry I got you involved in this,’ he said honestly.
With a half smile, Juliet replied, ‘I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, as if you’re a child yourself. I know you’re not. And it was your decision to make.’ She slowly took in a breath. ‘I’m probably just on edge from having a knife waved at me.’
Nick chuckled, and his bruises throbbed across his back and chest. Surprisingly, Juliet returned a gentle laugh that reassured him. ‘Who was Carl?’ she asked in a relieved tone.
‘Carl was Alan’s brother. The whole time I’ve worked with Alan, he only mentioned him once. But Mora told me about what happened. It was years ago, summertime, and Alan and his brother went to Eradon Lake with their parents. They went swimming, and Alan was fine, but Carl got his legs tangled in some weeds and drowned. I think he was only nine.’
Juliet’s face fell. ‘That’s awful.’ She shook her head weakly.
‘I know,’ said Nick, but his mind drifted to Alan. He felt sorry for him. If Alan was struggling with money, he didn’t have to resort to stealing. He had friends; Mora would have helped him out if he’d come to her. That was the most regrettable part. Maybe there were signs that Alan was in a bad way, and Nick had simply failed to see them.
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