Urban Witch (Urban Witch Series - Book 1)

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Urban Witch (Urban Witch Series - Book 1) Page 17

by R. L. Giddings


  I looked for any sense of understanding in his eyes but saw nothing. He was deathly pale.

  “Okay, when I click my fingers I want you to say it out loud. Your full name – I’ll know if you’re holding anything back. And remember: I won’t be asking twice.”

  I clicked my fingers. He gasped and then said, “Allardyce Montefiore.” Gasped again and then, with some difficulty said, “Allardyce Macrory Montefiore.”

  “Allardyce,” my voice was filled with admiration. “How are we spelling that? One “l” or two?”

  He held up one finger and said, “Lift … the spell.”

  “I already did,” I explained. “When I clicked my fingers.”

  He flopped forward so that I was forced to catch him. He was surprisingly solid. When he’d regained his strength he pushed himself away from me, “You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you? Getting my name out of me like that.”

  “Pretty clever, yeah,” I said. “Now I can put a curse on you whenever I like.”

  His eyes rolled wildly as he tried to stand up straight, “What if I was holding back? What if I didn’t give you my full name?”

  “Oh, right. Shall we see then?”

  Panic flared in his eyes, “No. That won’t be necessary. You must understand that I had no intention of hurting you. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try anything like that again.”

  I relented as soon as I saw that he meant what he said. I decided to try a different approach.

  “Allardyce Macrory…” I was careful not to mention his surname. “You wouldn’t be owning up to either of those if you had any choice in the matter.”

  “Allardyce was my grandfather’s name. On my mother’s side. Welsh, see.”

  “And Macrory?”

  He suddenly lost all patience and stormed off down the platform. He’d hardly managed ten paces before he started to falter, bending forward and grasping his knees. His heart was probably still struggling to keep up.

  “Do you want to sit down?” There was a yellow bench set against the wall. When he tried to speak he found that he lacked the energy to form the words. Instead, he waved me away. After a while he moved to the bench and sat down.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I’d like to ask the same of you.” I’d started feeling sorry for him and had to remind myself that he’d been the one following me. Then I had a thought, “You’re a member of the Fae aren’t you?”

  “Used to be,” he said, perching on the edge of his seat. “In the old days, before I started letting young witches get the better of me.”

  “So what are you doing out here,” I made a wide arc with my hand, “in the world of men? Are you an outcast?”

  “That’s not a very nice word. I’m what you would call a Sprite. I’ve just chosen to follow my fortunes outside the confines of the court.”

  I didn’t fully understand what that meant. All I knew was that the Seelie Court which rules the Faerie World operates in a dimension parallel to our own.

  “So, what did you have planned for me?”

  He rocked his head from side to side deciding whether I could be trusted. “Nothing … permanent. That’s true enough.”

  “You were just trying to give me a warning.”

  “Something like that.”

  I didn’t know whether to believe him so I tried a different tack. “What are you doing in London? I thought you lot liked you forests and your fields.” Sprites are usually self-taught, deriving much of their power from nature. As a result their work lacks sophistication, if not potency.

  “It’s not through choice that I’m traipsing round after you. I owed someone a favour and that’s the top and bottom of it.”

  “And who might that be?”

  He cocked his head at the passengers frozen on the platform.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  I clicked my fingers, dissolving the spell. One by one they began to stir. I watched the father drop his head to listen to his son’s question. Seeing the pair of them together it was difficult not to feel a little envious.

  When I turned, I saw the little sprite marching towards the far exit.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” I shouted but he ignored me. Just kept on going. “Allardyce Macrory …”

  “Shush!” he turned, holding up his palms. “Have you no sense of … decorum?”

  I picked up my bag. The snake had disappeared over the edge of the platform. My bag had a scuff mark on the front of it. Great!

  “You’re the one who’s sneaking off …”

  “And you’re the one shouting my name for everyone to hear,” he was coming back down the platform. “Where’s your sense of decency? I was no more sneaking away than I was taking the air at Eastbourne. I was leaving you to ruminate on the consequences of your actions.”

  “What have I done to be ashamed of – except, perhaps, to defend myself.”

  “You’ve taken charge of my given name and all that that entails,” he lowered his voice. “You may command me to do one thing – no matter how vile. Can’t you see how humiliating that is for a sprite of my standing?”

  He stood with his hands on his hips, daring me to do my worst. Having acquired the advantage initially, I felt that it was now being slowly reclaimed.

  “Tell me who sent you,” my voice came out sounding thin and shrill.

  “Certainly not. I’d rather you just cursed me here on the spot,” he closed his eyes holding out his hands like a martyred saint. He was attracting attention from the other passengers.

  “Well, I’m more than capable.”

  “I’m sure you are. Throwing your weight around with precious little respect for the feelings for others. Is that what they taught you at that fancy witches college of yours?”

  I bared my teeth in exasperation. This wasn’t going at all as I’d expected. I’d bested him fair and square in a match of magical combat and managed to get his name – his full name, mind – with minimum of effort. That kind of knowledge gave me the right to ask one thing of him in return.

  I decided on a different approach. “We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot.”

  He nodded sagely. Sniffed. “We have, rather.”

  I sauntered over to him as casually as I could. “You said: one request?”

  He nodded sagely.

  “Then would you agree to a very simple question and answer session?” He looked at me warily, “What sort of questions?”

  “Simple ones.”

  “And what if I don’t like the sound of these questions?”

  “If you feel that you can’t answer in good faith then I won’t press you.”

  At that moment a train pulled onto the platform. I could see his eyes swivel around to watch the doors open and the passengers spill out.

  He stroked his beard as if weighing up an enormously difficult moral dilemma. After a moments pondering he said, “Three questions is all I’ll grant you. On the condition…”

  “Yes?”

  “I get to ask one in return.”

  The station was almost empty. I indicated for him to board the train.

  We stepped aboard just as the doors were closing. I accompanied him down to the far end of the carriage and we sat down opposite one another. There was no one within ear-shot.

  “Okay, first question,” I had no idea what I was going to ask. I only really had one question. I didn’t want to scare him. “What do your friends call you?”

  The little man pursed his lips, wagging his finger as if I’d caught him unawares. For a second I actually thought that he wasn’t going to answer and then he said, “Macrory. My friends - such as they are - all call me Macrory.”

  “Macrory Montefiore. Sounds like a jazz saxophonist.”

  “Why, thank you very much,” he said, pulling at his cuffs. “I have been known to…dabble.”

  “Now, the second question.”

  He braced himself.

  “Why are the Fa
e getting involved in all this?”

  “I feel that question is outside your remit. But I will answer it as far as I’m able. The Fae have no interest in the power struggles of you magical types but they do tend to get annoyed when items of power - items of great power which have belonged to the Fae since time immemorial are first stolen and then mis-used.”

  I hadn’t expected that. He seemed genuinely annoyed. The train was starting to slow down.

  “And then my final question.” I steeled myself. I knew what I wanted to ask but I was pretty sure that he’d refuse to answer under the terms of the agreement. So, the question I ended up asking was: “Give me the name of the man who stabbed Helena Lawson.”

  “The lady who was stabbed at the station yesterday?”

  “That’s her.”

  “You want the name of the man who stabbed her?”

  “Or woman.”

  “You specified “man” so that’s the question. You want to know the name of the man who stabbed her?”

  My heart was racing even though I knew I was wasting my time.

  The carriage jolted as the brakes were applied.

  “Well, that’s an easy one,” he said. “Bjarne Lindqvist. He’s the fellow you’re after.”

  Was it that simple? “Thank you.”

  The train was pulling into the station.

  Macrory stood up, steadied himself against the rail, “Now it’s my turn.”

  “Okay.”

  “What’s your full name?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Bronte. And that, under the terms of our agreement, is all you’re getting.”

  Chapter 16

  I stayed on the train after he’d left and continued on with my journey. I was in something of a trance, changing trains automatically when required without really thinking about what I was doing. I was in a world of my own, desperately trying to make sense of all that had happened in the past couple of days.

  I really wanted to talk to Millie. I just hoped that she was going to be at home when I got there. We had so much to discuss. As soon as the train switched to the overground system I checked my phone for messages. Amidst the usual nonsense from my network provider there was one from my dad saying that he’d had to drive home and would be back later in the week.

  That came as something of a relief. Whilst it was good of him to try and help me get sorted in the flat there wasn’t much he could do until I’d gotten myself organised.

  Then I scrolled down and that’s when I saw the other message.

  It was from Kinsella: “Meeting 9am Monday morning. My office.”

  My heart sank. Was that it? Had Kinsella decided to get rid of me? I hoped not but it didn’t look good. Too abrupt.

  But what had I been expecting? He’d paired me up with Helena in the hope that she’d keep an eye on me. With her out of the picture there’d be nothing for me to do.

  Which was, most probably, what he wanted to discuss at the meeting. How he was going to ease me back into my job at the library. The Book of Lost Souls. Janice would be back at the Ptolemy bright and early the next morning and she’d have plenty of questions. Two days ago I’d have been horrified at the prospect but now, in the light of what had happened, I really couldn’t bring myself to get worked up about it.

  Either Kinsella would sort it out or he wouldn’t.

  That was what I was thinking as the train pulled into the station and I saw Silas standing on the platform.

  I sat back in my seat so that he wouldn’t be able to see me.

  The sensible thing would have been to stay on the train and get off at the next stop but I was tired and hungry. Perhaps if I kept my head down I’d be able to slip past him.

  As I stepped down from the train I couldn’t help glancing over in his direction. I was reminded of how physically imposing he looked. He stood head and shoulders above everyone else and was using his height to check everyone out. I kept my head down and tucked myself in alongside a pair of women coming back from a shopping trip. I thought that I was doing a pretty good job of evading him until he called my name.

  “Oh, hi, Silas,” I held up a hand in greeting. Very cool.

  He was dressed in a dark grey wool jacket although underneath he was bare chested. The fact did not go unnoticed by the two women beside me.

  Unbidden, my mind flashed up an image of him standing naked on the Common. I had been all too ready to put my reaction the previous night down to the high level of pheromones in the air but, seeing him now, I had to admit that he did cut a very attractive figure.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked trying to sound dismissive and failing.

  “Waiting for you, obviously.”

  “That’s good of you,” once I drew level with him I just kept on walking, following in the wake of the other travellers. “Been waiting long?”

  “About an hour.”

  “Good,” I made my way to the bridge. “What happened to your shirt?”

  “It’s not the shirt I’m bothered about,” he started after me along the platform. “Some bastard pinched my shoes.”

  “Expensive?”

  “Italian.”

  He was wearing a pair of cheap trainers.

  “Where did you get those?” I asked as we approached the bridge.

  “Lost property.”

  I slowed down as we started to climb the stairs, letting the other travellers pull ahead. I couldn’t help but feel drawn to him and hoped that I wasn’t making it too obvious, “You must have a lot of experience of that.”

  “People are usually very understanding. As long as you’re wearing trousers. Can get a little difficult if you lose those.”

  I sniggered, “What happens then? They ring the police I assume.”

  “I try not to let it get that far if I can possibly help it. If I am completely naked though I have to look shame-faced and pretend that I’m the groom.”

  I didn’t understand what he was talking about at first which just goes to show how dim I can be when there are attractive men in the vicinity. Finally I said, “Oh, I see: ‘groom’ as in: Stag-Night.”

  By the time we arrived at the far set of steps the last of the passengers had disappeared.

  As we came out of the station I made to cross the road but he gestured for me to follow him instead.

  “It’s alright,” I said. “I think I’ll walk.”

  He tossed his car keys into the air and caught them, “I insist.”

  “Insist away,” I crossed the road.

  “Bronte. Would you please allow me to give you a lift?”

  I walked on a few more steps before turning. “I don’t see why I should trust you to take me anywhere. You pop up when you’re least expected and then get angry when I try and contact you. If you want me to trust you then you’re going to have to start being a little more honest with me.”

  He thought about that for a moment. “Look, I’m sorry about this morning: I was rude. Low blood sugar. But if you’ll get in the car I’ll explain everything.”

  I didn’t move.

  “Just round the corner,” he said. “It’s a very nice car.”

  “I’m sure it is. Some fancy, Italian thing that you drive too fast down narrow country lanes.”

  Silas shrugged, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

  “Will you at least come and see it?”

  “Okay, as long as it’s not red?”

  “It’s yellow.”

  “You do surprise me. I’m still not coming.”

  We crossed the main road together, it was a quiet early Sunday evening.

  “We’re over here,” Silas indicated a row of Turkish shops. As he made to step around me into the road I blocked his way.

  “So, you’ve apologised: which is nice. But does that mean you’re going to start being honest with me?”

  He stepped forward so that he towered over me. “I’ve always been honest with you.”

  “About your relationship with Helena?”


  “A gentleman doesn’t discuss such things.”

  “Are you a gentleman, then?”

  “Let me take you to dinner and you’ll find out.”

  He pressed his key fob and, from somewhere behind me, came the sound of a car being unlocked.

  Odd. I hadn’t seen a yellow car and they do tend to stand out.

  I had to look.

  “It’s red!” A Ferrari convertible.

  “You said you wouldn’t come if it was red.”

  “So you had to lie?” I said. “It is a beautiful colour, though”

  He opened the passenger door for me, “Let me take you to dinner and we can get to know one another better.”

  It was a very tempting offer. It was a very beautiful car. I was very hungry and Silas did look good, with or without his shirt.

  On the negative side though, I needed to get a good night’s sleep if I was going to face Kinsella. Plus, I looked terrible. I hadn’t shaved my legs or anything. If I was going to go to some fancy restaurant with Silas, I would need to raise my game quite considerably. I didn’t even have a suitable dress.

  Though Millie might have something I could borrow.

  Silas went around and got behind the wheel.

  “Look, I’d love to go for dinner with you but could we take a rain check?”

  He growled in mock frustration.

  “Okay, I suppose.”

  I slammed the passenger door shut and then, on an impulse, leaned across to him. “Maybe later in the week.”

  He reached up and stroked my chin. “Maybe.”

  Next thing I had lowered my head and was kissing him.

  I’d intended it to be a polite peck on the lips but something more carnal had kicked in once I’d caught his scent.

  It was a good, long hot kiss and, when I finally managed to pull myself away, I found that my arms were shaking.

  Chapter 17

  I arrived at the office with Millie in tow at 8.30am only to find that I’d mis-laid my ID again. Millie signed me in but I still had to go through the normal diagnostic tests before they’d let me through - by which time I was late. Millie had gone ahead so I ran up the steps only to find that the meeting had been put back by half an hour and I was the first one there. I was forced to sit and wait.

 

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