Raven (A Very British Witch Book 4)

by Isobella Crowley

  Darkness engulfed them and something vaguely fire-like appeared in the center of the room. They chanted louder, giving it every last drop of strength they had. Tabitha again reached behind her to steady herself, this time putting her hand in the waterfall that was pouring from the sink and down the cupboard, making a pool on the floor around her feet.

  The tension showed on Tarquin’s face too. His breaths became deeper, his eyes grew wider, his teeth clenched harder. The fire started to fade. Tabitha weakened, her head drooped and the mumbling stopped.

  Bright red and panting, Tarquin staggered across the room to pick up two upturned chairs and brought them to where the table had stood. “Here. Sit down.”

  Tabitha did as she was told.

  Tarquin placed his chair opposite Tabitha and sat down, facing her. “Thought we’d nailed it that time.”

  Tabitha shrugged. “I’m getting old. I must be.”

  “No Tabitha, the spell nearly worked, you saw it. It’s just that something was blocking it.”

  Tabitha sighed and looked at the floor. “That wretched child is up to something. I know it.”

  Tarquin looked puzzled. “But I thought you said she isn’t—”

  “She isn’t. But she’s involved with someone—or something that is.”

  “You mean Tim?”

  Tabitha shook her head. “No, it’s not him. I’d have known. No, it’s no one we know. And whoever it is, they know a thing or two about the dark side of magic.” Tabitha shook her head. “After she promised me.”

  “But it might not be her fault. She might not know whoever’s doing this. Or, she might be under someone’s influence.”

  Tabitha looked grim. “Someone’s influence, or a spell.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Slater Residence, Bicester, England

  Scarlett jumped into her car and hit the road. It was only a short journey to her destination. Although it was a first-time experience for her, it might not have worked out that way. No, if things had turned out differently, this would be a route she’d know like the back of her hand.

  Pulling up outside the house, she honked her horn and, straight away, Cliff emerged through his front door. He got in, made himself comfortable on the passenger seat and they drove away.

  It wasn’t long before the memories started flooding back of the day when they’d found the body. The way the woman had come in screaming, the dark staircase, the smell.

  In no time at all, they were turning onto the road that ran behind Costa. They pulled up on the street, left the car and walked back around to the entrance to the flat.

  She had come prepared. Knowing that the door would be locked again, she picked the lock. It was one of the easier ones to pick thankfully, and one she’d studied on Youtube many times since her foray into the underworld, as she affectionately called it in her mind.

  Once inside, they climbed the steps, carefully closing the front door behind them so as not to draw suspicion. The darkness engulfed them forcing them to rely on their sense of touch to get them safely up the stairs to the flat above.

  At the top of the stairs, Scarlett attempted her lock picking trick. Between the darkness, the lingering scent of death, and the pressure, she fiddled without success. After a few minutes she stepped back, hot and frustrated.

  Cliff moved towards the door. “Allow me,” he said quietly. He pushed at the door almost casually, and it bounced open with quite a force.

  “Vampire strength,” he whispered, a twinkle in his eye.

  “Thanks,” Scarlett said, half smiling.

  Cliff stopped suddenly, thrusting an arm across her midriff. “Shhh.”

  “What?” she whispered.

  After a moment of tense waiting, Cliff relaxed. “I thought I heard something. It’s nothing,” he said, relaxing. The pair ventured into the flat, closing the door, now with a broken lock, behind them again. “So, what first?” he asked.

  Scarlett led him into the bedroom and pointed out all areas of interest. She watched and waited, waiting to see if he was going to make another joke about bedrooms. As Amanda would say, he’d had his daily quota of unfunny jokes. This time though, he was only interested in the job at hand.

  Cliff bent down to give each area a thorough examination, starting at the white skirting boards and working his way over the carpet. Shaking his head, he straightened and scoured the surrounding areas, looking for any clues that McMillan might have been involved in some kind of struggle.

  After drawing a blank in the bedroom, she led him into the bathroom. A couple minutes later, he emerged, shaking his head. “Nothing in here either.”

  Finally, she took him into the living room, pointed out where the body had been and the coffee table where she’d found the chocolates and the card. He bent over and started running his index finger over the wooden surface, taking in every detail. Cliff sighed, disappointment written all over his face.

  “No, nothing in here either. The police must have been more thorough than we’d thought.”

  “What about the phones?”

  “The phones, what about them?”

  “He had a phone in his hand when he died. We need to check for a signal. If there is one, we can rule out the possibility that he couldn’t phone for help due to a bad signal.”

  “Sure.” Cliff took out his phone. “Signal’s fine.”

  “Really?” her face slumped.

  “Scarlett, no need to look like that. You’ll find an explanation. You always do. I have faith in you.”

  “Thanks, Cliff. That means a lot,” she smiled. “Well, there must have been some other reason why he couldn’t have called for help. If the phone signal’s strong, why didn’t he just call an ambulance or something? Or maybe he’s just on another carrier, and he really didn’t have a signal.”

  Cliff looked like he was giving the question some serious thought. “Could be… or maybe someone could have planted it there.”

  “Put the phone in his hand you mean?”

  “Exactly that. They could have put it there after he’d passed out.”

  Scarlett narrowed her eyes. “Why would anyone do that?”

  Cliff leaned back against the wall. “To throw the police off their scent. Send them in the wrong direction?”

  “A red herring. Of course, why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Because I could be wrong. But my instincts are telling me that whoever did this, staged the whole scene, and went to a lot of trouble to do it.” He paused to reconsider. “Maybe this is a vampire thing. Not that I was involved in any way, shape, or form.”

  Scarlett chuckled. “Relax Cliff, I know it wasn’t you.”

  Cliff’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. His body was covered in blood. Not very professional.”

  Cliff laughed. “What are you trying to insinuate, Scarlett? I’m not that bad, surely?”

  “If it was you, you’d have gone straight for the jugular, no mess or anything. Just a small bite mark on the neck.”

  Still smiling, Cliff nodded. “Yes, you’re right, I’d have drunk him dry. Come on, let’s get on with it. I forgive you for the insinuation.”

  Scarlett sniffed the air and screwed her nose. “Errgh, I can still smell it.”

  “What?”

  “The smell of rotting flesh.”

  Cliff sniffed in every direction. “No, nothing.”

  “Can’t you smell it? Maybe it’s in my mind.”

  Cliff patted her shoulder. “The mind plays tricks on us all occasionally. If you were so repulsed, it’s only natural to imagine you can smell it.”

  Seeing the sense in this, she nodded. “You’re probably right. Come on, Cliff. Let’s just get the things we need and get out of here. This place is giving me the creeps.”

  “Sure. What do we need again?”

  Scarlett shifted her eyes upwards as if trying to remember. “Hair samples, so that’s his hairbrush. Raven was quite specific.”

  Cliff nodded.
“Okay. Anything else?”

  “Things with sentimental value. Old photos, heirlooms—that type of thing.”

  Cliff scrutinized every corner of the room. “You look in the bedroom and I’ll take in here.”

  Scarlett left the living room and returned to the bedroom, looking out for any clues on the way. Everywhere she went, the smell of rotting flesh still lingered. She took a deep breath, just to prove to herself that she hadn’t been imagining things, which prompted her gag reflex to kick in again. Hopefully, she’d be able to grab what she needed and go.

  There was no sign of his hairbrush anywhere, nor were there any strands of hair lying around. There were some drawers, but they turned out to be packed full of clothes. After scanning the room carefully for any other possible hiding places, she came across a small set of drawers by the bed. “A-ha!” she whispered, reaching for the top drawer.

  Scarlett opened the drawer and her face sank. It was packed full of odds and ends including tissues, nail clippers, and scraps of paper. She slid her hand inside and felt around until her fingers touched the back, but still no sign of anything that might resemble a hairbrush.

  Frowning, she withdrew her hand, this time coming into contact with something long, thin and hard. It didn’t take her long to work out it was a comb.

  The top of each tooth was caked in dandruff. She held it up to eye level, examining the gaps between the teeth and grinned.

  After dropping the comb into her bag, she opened the second bedside drawer, finding it to be completely empty. She moved on the bottom drawer, placing her hand inside without looking. It was full of socks, but after reaching right to the back, her fingers brushed something hard and cold. She pulled the object out carefully, trying hard not to scatter socks all over the floor. It was a pendant on a chain. Turning it over in her hand, she read the writing on the back, smiled and dropped it into her bag along with the comb.

  Scarlett left the bedroom to find Cliff, whom she found bent over, examining the wall behind the couch. “Cliff?”

  He stood up, his disappointment evident. “No, nothing, I’m afraid. Not in here, anyway.”

  She smiled. “Oh well, not to worry. I’ve managed to gather everything we need.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes, I have. Come on. Let’s get away from this terrible place. We have a lot more to do tonight.”

  “Agreed.”

  +++

  Tuesday Evening

  Raven’s Flat, Launton

  Scarlett waited for Cliff to fasten his seatbelt before starting up the car and shooting off back the way they’d come. Raven’s flat was on the other side of town.

  Everything was just as she remembered it. A quiet street in a respectable part of town, with respectable looking old people hobbling along the sidewalk. A line of trees separated the railings from the front lawn, beyond which was the flat block.

  Remembering how cunning she’d had to be to break in on the previous occasion, she looked at Cliff and grinned. “Come on. We don’t have long. This place is under police surveillance. “

  Cliff looked aghast. “What? Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

  “I, err, I forgot.”

  “You forgot?” He sighed, but soon recovered. “Okay, no problem.” He leaned over her lap and pushed open the driver’s side door. “You go ahead and go in.”

  Scarlett put one foot on the sidewalk, before turning back to Cliff. “What about the police?”

  He winked. “You leave that to me.”

  +++

  Cliff left the car and walked along the street, his eyes darting around in every direction, looking out for undercover policemen. First up on his radar was an old man with a walking stick. It was, admittedly, a long shot, but maybe this was the idea. They could have hired an old man for the job or dressed someone up to look like an old man. Either way, Cliff wasn’t prepared to take a chance.

  Cliff approached the old man and grinned. “Good afternoon.”

  The man looked up quizzically and nodded. “’Ow do?”

  “Nice afternoon isn’t it?”

  The man turned around. “Aye. Not so bad.”

  Cliff strode after him. The man stopped outside a large building, opened the gate and hobbled along the path until a nurse rushed out and told him off for leaving the home without permission.

  Refusing to be disheartened, Cliff continued to prowl until he came across a younger man who was eyeing Scarlett’s car. “Good afternoon.”

  The man grunted and sidestepped him.

  “I said, good afternoon.”

  The man looked over his shoulder and barked at him, “Good afternoon.”

  “Where you heading?”

  “Look, I’m busy, okay?”

  Cliff grinned, ran along the path and jumped in front of him. “Just what is the world coming to my friend?”

  “Look, I’m—”

  “Yes, you’re busy, I know. Everyone’s the same these days. No one has time for Jesus.”

  The man tried to brush him aside. “What? Look, I don’t have time for this. I have to get to—”

  “Get to what? Your early grave, my friend?”

  The man scowled at Cliff. “No. Just get out of my way!”

  “So you’re not a believer? It seems to me that your life lacks direction.”

  “My direction is just along this footpath. I have to get to—.” He gestured towards the flat block with his head.

  Cliff grinned. “I see. You need to get home to your loved ones. Or maybe it’s a prayer meeting?”

  The man lowered his head. “Look, I’m gonna level with you, okay? You see those flats over there? I’m meant to be keeping watch. We’ve had word that a dangerous criminal lives there.”

  “So, let me get this right. You’re an undercover police officer?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, knock me down with a feather. I had no idea. And are there any more of you fine boys lurking anywhere?”

  The policeman nodded and glanced at another man further along the street.

  “Just the two of you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you go on then. Don’t let me keep you any longer. You find the criminal, but remember, Jesus loves all his children.” He took out his phone. “Wait there, officer, maybe I can find for you a prayer.”

  “Some other time.”

  Cliff walked down the street to the other undercover police officer. “Hello there, friend. Tell me, do you believe in Jesus?”

  +++

  Raven had told her about the spare key to her flat, and Scarlett made quick work of finding it hidden behind the hallway fire extinguisher as she’d described. That done, she put the key in the lock and was relieved to feel it turn. The flat looked just as she’d left it the other day. After calling to mind the list that Raven had given her, she proceeded with caution. Just as before, the sunshine lit up the entire living area and she felt a strong temptation to sit down on the couch and bask in the warm light. Maybe someday she’d get to do just that with Raven the human, but for now, she had more important matters to attend to.

  Passing through the room, her attention was drawn to the table where she’d found the knife. She put her fingers over her mouth whilst she gave the situation some thought. Tim had ordered her to put the knife back. It was still in her bag. She could do it now if she wanted and no one would ever know it had been missing. And what’s more, she’d be avoiding the possibility of being caught with it.

  Tim had been strict with her, but he had her best interests at heart. If the police found the knife on her, she’d be in big trouble. She might even end up becoming a suspect herself and be thrown in prison for a crime she didn’t commit. She watched the news. She knew that it happened all the time.

  She could leave the flat, call Tim and let the police do their job, as he’d put it. She unzipped her bag and looked inside, just to check it was there.

  On the other hand, if she did that, she’d have a whole lot of explaining t
o do to Raven and even Cliff. In the end, it came down to a choice between listening to Tim or her friends. After wasting more time deliberating over the decision, she left the knife in her bag and continued to search for the items they needed for the spell.

  Most of the things Raven had asked for were in the bedroom. She recited the list once more and bent down to try a drawer under the bed. No luck. Nor was there any sign of the things in the wardrobe or drawers. She was just about to try a different room, when a closet, partly hidden by the wardrobe, caught her eye.

  The closet turned out to be a real Aladdin’s cave, packed full of all kinds of weird and wonderful stuff. This was definitely the place she should be looking. Bending down, she took a couple of jars from the top of the stack and placed them in her bag. Next on her list were potions. After shifting her line of sight upwards, she moved along each shelf and down to the next, until coming to a rest on the third shelf down.

  There were a few bottles of something that looked like it might be a potion, so she took one down to examine it before putting it into her bag. She tried to think of the next item on the list, but her mind drew a blank. Suddenly conscious that Cliff wouldn’t be able to hold the police off forever, she hurried her pace and took hold of as many items as she could, dropping them into her bag.

  In the end, her bag held all sorts of things. Jars, potions, packets of dry stuff, along with other things that fuelled her curiosity, such as little stuffed dolls that looked like they might be useful.

  Scarlett heaved her packed bag over her shoulder and left the flat. After checking and double checking that the door was locked, she descended one flight of stairs and left the building through the side entrance, the way she’d come in.

  By the time she’d stepped outside, making her way back along the path to the front of the building, her shoulder was in agony. No sooner had she paused to swap shoulders, than she heard voices coming from around the front, three of them. If she wasn’t mistaken, one of them was Cliff. The pounding of her footsteps rang in her ears as she struggled to the front of the building. Standing with her back to the wall, she strained to look across the road. Cliff was there, talking to two men, whom she assumed to be undercover policemen. She held her breath, trying to listen in on their conversation.