Ruby Morgan Box Set: Books 6-10

by LJ Rivers

  “Huh?”

  “Duncan’s ri-hi-hinging. Please, get my phone.”

  Brendan finally caught on and jumped up from the sofa. I rolled over, crying with laughter, and not knowing why. It was Duncan’s idea to have that song be his ringtone on my phone, as a dark and joking reminder of his own stint at rehab.

  “Come on,” Charlie moaned. “You’re scaring me.”

  The cramp in my stomach started to release, and I was able to breathe again by the time Brendan returned from my room. Amy had stopped singing, and Brendan had my phone to his ear.

  “Yeah, I know. But I’ll call you later. Here’s Ru.”

  Wiping away what I thought was a tear, but might have been just my imagination, I took the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Ru. It’s Duncan. I just wanted you to know I’ll be leaving.”

  “Oh? Why?”

  “It’s just … I’ve had a good time here and all. Well, not a good time, naturally. But you know, it’s been good to clear my head. I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to put it without it sounding totally lame compared to what you’re going through.”

  “I understand, Dunc. Of course I do. You needed to get away, and you don’t have to weigh your words to me.”

  When Charlie had phoned to tell him about Mum, he had wanted to come back. I was glad Charlie had talked him out of it, even though I knew how much she wanted him to come. Their friendship was strong, and however much she missed him, her affection for him was stronger than her fear of abandonment. She had told him the last place on earth he should be right now was London. And she was right.

  “You know how I feel about all that’s happened, right?”

  “I do. And thank you. But I think you should stay a while longer.”

  He drew a deep breath. “I don’t know, Ru. It doesn’t feel right with Elaine gone.”

  Tell me about it.

  He let out a tiny laugh. “And this cat of yours. It’s driving me nuts.”

  “His name is Kit, silly. What’s the matter, you don’t like freshly caught sparrow for breakfast?”

  “I can handle his hunting. But he’s going bananas, Ru. Climbing the curtains, scurrying back and forth with seemingly no purpose, and then there’s the wailing.”

  “Come again?”

  “I’ve never heard a cat howling and screaming like that. It’s like those old Italian ladies we saw on Discovery, remember? The ones that go to funerals to kick-start the crying.”

  I knew the answer before I asked. “And when did he start acting like that?”

  “Sometime late Saturday night. We were sitting down by the pond, both of us, watching the sunset. Well, I was, anyway. He was sleeping by my feet long after the orange disc had dropped below the horizon. Then all of a sudden he just jumped straight up in the air and started … well, screaming. Ran off like a rocket, and I didn’t see him until two o’clock in the morning. I was in bed, and the little bugger dropped on top of my head. Scratched my forehead and all.”

  “He knew,” I whispered.

  “I reckon he did, yeah. But listen, Ru, I’m not leaving because of the little furball. Remember Ilyana?”

  I hadn’t thought about her in months. What a tragic fate for the young Banshee. She had fled from a group of Harvesters back home in Bulgaria. Somehow she managed to get all the way to London, where she met Brendan. He helped her obtain a new identity, Olivia, and got her enrolled at White Willow last autumn. Then, four weeks into her new life, she had disappeared from campus, only to reappear a few days later as the first victim of the White Willow murderer.

  There were other people in the world who experienced tragedies, I reminded myself. Not that it helped, but maybe it would at a later time.

  “Yes, of course. What about her?” But I thought I knew the answer to this question, too.

  “I’ve got in touch with her cousin, Nadya, in Bulgaria. I think I’ll go visit her and tell her, and any other relatives of Ilyana, about her life in London. Her short life, but still.”

  “That’s a nice thought. But could you stay for a couple of days, you think? I’ll come home and take care of Kit.”

  And everything else Mum left behind. The magnitude of the thought made my head spin.

  “OK. I’ll hang on a day or two.”

  “Thanks, Duncan. See you later, then.”

  I rang off before my shaking hand could no longer hold onto the phone.

  The next morning I finally managed to eat, and got a round of applause from Charlie when I bit into my second pancake. I finished that one and even a third, earning whoops and applause from Jen and Brendan, too.

  “All right, all right, that’s enough.” I smiled.

  A genuine smile. The hole in my heart was still Grand Canyon sized, but for the first time since Saturday, I had a minuscule feeling I might find a way to learn to live with it. I had got up early, and for a fleeting moment even considered going for a run. Common sense had kicked in, and instead of collapsing two hundred yards down the road, I had started packing my bag. I would go back to Chester and take care of Kit. And I would start the painful work of going through Mum’s belongings. Not that I had any plans on what to do with it all, but I figured I’d find out as I went along.

  In August, I would go to Tokyo and watch my boyfriend fight for a medal at the Olympics. And come September, I would return to my room at Craydon Court and start my second year of journalist studies and writing for the Whisper.

  Charlie glazed a pancake with golden syrup. “These are absolutely gorgeous, by the way, Jen.”

  “I know,” said my favourite wolf Shifter, as if it were the most natural thing in the world that she made the best pancakes. “I added some cardamom. Just a dash, but still. I think it adds a little je ne sais quoi.”

  Charlie turned back to me and cleared her throat, her expression not so chipper anymore. “So, Ru, you need us to contact anyone? I mean, any relatives who would want to know. About Elaine.”

  She couldn’t, or wouldn’t, hold back the tears. For someone who didn’t share my blood, she really did love Mum like a little sister of mine would. And Mum had loved her just as much.

  I shook my head. “There’s only my grandparents left, but I have no idea how to contact them.”

  Brendan took my empty plate and stacked it on top of his. “Where do they live? We could swing by on our way to Chester, if it’s not too far.”

  “I have no idea about that, either. And I still don’t think you should drive me. You should get back to training. Your coach said—”

  “He says a lot of stuff. I told him I’d be back tomorrow, and I’ll stick to that plan.”

  “If you like, I could give it a go,” Charlie said. “Try to find your grandparents, that is.”

  “Don’t see the point, really.” The shrug was evident in my voice. “They cut all contact with Mum when she got together with Dad. A puny human was apparently not good enough for the blood of Morgana.”

  Charlie wiggled her eyebrows. “But you didn’t say I couldn’t.”

  Jen slapped her gently on the back of her head. “Never let go of a chance to do your digimagic, eh?”

  I would miss my friends so much. But I had to go home. Every minute I stayed away from Mum’s house—my house—was a minute too many.

  “Let’s go, Brendan. Thanks for breakfast, Jen.”

  And that was it as far as my voice went. I went around the table to hug Charlie, and Jen joined us, all three sobbing into each other’s necks.

  “—have extended the state of emergency to last through the weekend. More than twenty thousand troops from the Army Reserve have been called to action, patrolling the streets of all major cities in Britain. The images of armed vehicles rolling slowly through the streets of London, Liverpool, Birmingham and others is indeed something the British people will never forget. The riots seem to have quieted down, and there have been no reports of major incidents since Monday evening.

  “With the death of their le
ader, Jarl Colburn, the Coalition of Purity has suspended its political campaign. A spokesman for the party said they will keep working for their programme, but that they will wait until the next general election to launch a new campaign.

  “The so-called Lionhearts seem to have gone underground. Commander Denton of the Metropolitan Police spoke to the press earlier.

  “As of seven o’clock this morning, the number of casualties from Jubilee Gardens has reached four hundred and sixty-eight, with an additional three hundred and eighty injured. Twenty-one of these are deemed in critical condition.

  Forty-six people were apprehended on Saturday evening, eight of whom were non-Magicals. The mob of Magicals appear to have planned their attack beforehand, taking out most of the CCTV cameras around the area. We have obtained some footage and have good hope of catching the apparent leaders.

  We ask the public—”

  Brendan switched the radio off.

  “They’ll never catch Gemma,” I sighed. “I don’t think she’s even in London anymore.”

  Where was she hiding? Was she planning more attacks, or had she accomplished her goals by assasinating Jarl Colburn?

  Something told me she had gone to see another Mag. Her prince.

  My father.

  The map on my phone said we were passing the exit off the M6 to Wolverhampton. One hour until we rolled into Chester.

  Brendan took my hand and gave it a little squeeze. “We’ll get through it, Ruby Ruby.”

  A cloud floated slowly in front of the sun. It looked like a fish. A trout, maybe? A few seconds later it had turned into a shapeless blob, and the sun was already peeking out from the other side.

  “Yeah,” I whispered. “Maybe.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Brendan blew me a kiss and backed out of the driveway, then turned and started back to London. He had asked me again if he should stay, but I needed to do this on my own. Besides, his coach had been phoning him non-stop all day, and he had to get back to training if he was going to be ready for the Olympic tryouts.

  As the sound of the engine died down, I turned, and my chest tightened. My eyes were a desert at this point, but pain was clenching around my heart, and it felt as if I was still crying on the inside. The old brick house looked exactly as it always had. Flowers bloomed, and the violets Mum had planted less than a month earlier were stretching towards he sun.

  The air smelled of lemons and honey, of wood and roses. Nothing seemed amiss, except the one thing that really mattered.

  The front door opened, and Kit scurried out with Duncan just behind him. The cat threw himself at my leg and tried frantically to climb my jeans. I crouched and scooped him into my arms, then buried my nose in his soft fur. He was meowing loudly, before he settled into a contented purr as I scratched him between his ears.

  “I missed you, Kit,” I whispered, clutching him as if he were a lifeline I had to hold onto to stay afloat.

  “Hey, Ru,” Duncan said. He placed a hand briefly on my shoulder, then grabbed my suitcase and rolled it inside.

  “Hey, Dunc.” I cradled Kit, crossing the threshold.

  “I’ve tried to keep everything as it was,” Duncan explained. “The plants have got plenty of water, maybe too much—I have no idea. And I just finished cleaning the kitchen.”

  “It does smell of soap,” I commented, glancing at the familiar walls, averting my eyes from the pictures on them.

  “Oh, and I changed the sheets on your bed as well. Put the ones I used in the washer, so don’t forget to take them out.”

  I looked up at him, still cuddling Kit. “You’re leaving so soon?”

  “I got the message loud and clear. You need time alone, and besides, I need to get going.”

  Though I was sad to see him leave, I did want the house to myself. “So, Bulgaria?”

  “So, Bulgaria.”

  “Thanks for watching Kit. And the house.”

  “No bother. I’ve enjoyed the solitude, though hearing about Elaine lessened the experience quite a lot. I hope you don’t mind, but Tabitha swung by earlier today with Willow, and I sort of had to tell her what happened. She cried for a while—or howled, I suppose—but she said she’d come back to check on you tomorrow. And she said that you shouldn’t worry about the sanctuary, as she and Hugo will take care of it for as long as you need them to.”

  “I hadn’t even thought that far,” I muttered. “By Nimue, there’s so much I haven’t had time to consider at all.” I sat Kit down on the sofa. He scratched the fabric and growled a little in protest. “Don’t worry, Kit, I’m staying for a while. I won’t leave you.” But at some point I would have to go back to London. He would be miserable there. He needed his hunting grounds and the open countryscape. Maybe I could ask Tabitha, or perhaps Mrs Wellington to take care of him when I wasn’t around?

  He stopped complaining and put his head on his front paws, his eyes watching us intently.

  Duncan opened the door to the back patio and let the gentle summer breeze inside. He sighed and stretched his neck against the sun. “Any sign of her?”

  “Her?” For a moment I thought he was talking about Mum.

  “Gemma.”

  “Oh. No, sorry.”

  His body sagged a little, but he composed himself. “Just as well, I suppose, though she should be rotting in prison if it were up to me. I can’t believe I brought her into your life. If I hadn’t—”

  “No,” I said firmly. “Mum’s death is not your fault. Besides, I have a feeling that Gemma would have found a way into our lives one way or the other.”

  There would be no need for a prison if I ever got my hands on the murdering fox, I thought, but had no intention of sharing that with Duncan.

  “How do you mean?” He gave me a quizzical look as I passed him and stepped out on the patio. Kit jumped from the sofa and hurried after me.

  “I’m not sure, but when you told me about how you met, it got me thinking. Something about it doesn’t quite add up. She idolises Auberon, and me too for a while, I suppose. At some point, I think she started to resent me. I haven’t entirely pieced it together yet, but—” I hesitated, not sure I should voice my thoughts.

  “It’s fine, Ru. It’s not as if I haven’t thought about it myself. She hates humans, so what was she doing having a relationship with one? I see what you’re getting at, and though it makes me feel like some broken toy of hers, I would be doing myself a disfavour to try to colour this picture perfect in pretty shades. She used me. To what end, I’m not entirely sure, but she used me nonetheless.”

  “I think you’re right. I’m sorry, Dunc.”

  “You have nothing to apologise for. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

  “Right. Let’s stop claiming blame, shall we? The only one who has anything to be sorry about is that sodding fox.” I recalled the last time I’d come home. To Mum. We had agreed not to play the blame game any longer. We had found each other again, and all our secrets had come out into the open. And now, because of Gemma, a person I had trusted and considered my friend, Mum was dead. What had I done to anger her so much she would actually kill my mum?

  There it was again, the blame. I shook myself, then took a look around.

  “Did you paint the swing?”

  Duncan scratched his head, still leaning on the doorframe. “Should I not have done that?”

  I had intended to paint it, but after sanding it down, I’d been helping Mum out at the sanctuary and had never got around to finishing the job. “No, I mean, it’s fine. Looks great.”

  “Tabitha has the pillow cases for it. I was trying to sew new covers for them.”

  “You? Sewing?” I managed a brief laugh.

  “I know. It wasn’t really working out, so Tabitha took over. Not that I had a say in the matter.”

  “Goblins.” I smiled and remembered Mari, Tabitha’s lookalike Goblin in Perllanafal, the little village in Wales I’d visited with my father. The two Goblins weren’t just similar in appearance, but
in mannerisms, too. I could easily picture both of them taking the covers from Duncan’s hands and fixing them up without asking. The only difference would be which snack they would give him instead, but my inner eye watched both the Goblins hand him a tray of freshly baked biscuits. I missed Mari. And Rhys.

  “Anyway, I guess that’s about it,” Duncan said. “The cupboards are still pretty full, and Mrs Wellington stopped by the other day with a giant bag of cat food. The little bugger is a fierce hunter, but he seems to be more into playing with his prey than actually eating it.”

  I glanced at the freshly cut lawn. Duncan hadn’t been sitting on his arse these past few days. He had been working hard, tending to Mum’s house—my house—to the best of his abilities.

  “Thank you for taking such care of my home.”

  “Don’t mention it. You need anything before I go?” Duncan asked.

  “A time turner?” I scoffed. “Not that actual Time Turners are good for anything, but the kind Charlie read about in those books she loves.” The Time Turner I had known wasn’t good at all, but at least he wouldn’t be bad ever again.

  “All right, then, if you’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. Go, find the meaning of life and all that.”

  “That’s the plan.” He grinned.

  “Is there a way to contact you if I need to?” I slid my finger carefully over the swing. The paint had already dried. “You’ll have your phone? I mean, I know Bulgaria’s not on Mars or anything. They’ll have reception there, of course.”

  He nodded. “Charlie has all my travel arrangements and such, and I’ve promised to keep her up to speed if I change my numbers or my plans along the way. My mum even wired me some cash after I told her I wasn’t dating a Mag anymore. Of course, I neglected to tell her I was going to see another Mag in Bulgaria, and she didn’t tell my dad about the money.”