by TJ Green
Newton met them in the car park looking harassed. He wore a heavy wool coat over his suit and had a thick scarf, but he still looked cold. And no wonder, the wind was bitter. “We haven’t got long. The coroner has, fortunately for us, been tied up with another death, and we only have one on over the weekend. So, before SOCO get stuck in, I want your opinion.”
“You want us to look at a dead body?” Briar asked, her face pale.
Newton nodded. “If you don’t want to, stay in the car. I know it’s grisly. But I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need your help.”
“I’ll go, if no one else wants to,” Alex offered.
“No. If something weird is happening, I want to know about it,” Avery said, and El and Reuben agreed.
“It’s fine, I’ll come,” Briar said, not looking at all certain. “Just wanted to prepare myself.”
“Thanks,” Newton said, looking at all of them. “I really appreciate this. As soon as we get close to the scene, I’ve got shoe covers for you to wear. And don’t touch anything!”
They followed him across the college grounds, to a building on the edge of the sport fields. He headed around the back to where a couple of big bins were half open, full of rubbish. Officer Moore, Newton’s partner, was standing guard, and a uniformed policeman stood at the other end of the building. Moore nodded at them, and then walked away, leaving them to it. As usual, he said nothing.
“She’s here,” Newton said, lowering his voice with sadness. He handed them the plastic shoe covers, waited until they had all put them on, and then led them to the huge square bins. He pointed between them, and on the ground, sitting upright, was a young woman. Her eyes were wide open, staring into space. Her skin was pale, almost blue, and her lips were parted as if she was about to speak.
“Oh, no!” Briar said, shivering. “This is horrible.”
Newton looked grim. “Yes, it is. Welcome to my world.”
“What are we looking for?” Alex asked, his eyes never leaving the young woman’s body.
“She’s very pale, as you can see. Almost blue. It could be because it’s bloody freezing, but I think it’s because she’s had significant blood loss. She has tiny puncture wounds on her neck, just like the other one. Can you see if there’s any sign of magic? Or can you detect a vampire? Just don’t move her!”
Alex looked at him. “Having never met a vampire, I have no idea what signatures they leave. And it’s tricky, without touching her, Newton.”
He sighed. “I know. But I just want your opinion.”
Briar looked as pale as the dead girl, and El said, “Help me search the area, Briar.”
She nodded, looking grateful. “Sure.”
They walked away, talking softly together, and Alex crouched next to the body, Avery and Reuben crouching on the other side.
Avery looked up at Newton. “Did you say the other one was posed? Sitting up, too?”
“Yeah, but on a bench, where everyone could see her.”
Avery held her hands above the girl’s body, trying to sense magic, while Alex and Reuben examined her clothing and skin as carefully as they could without touching her. Avery closed her eyes to help her focus. She sensed something. It was hard to place, though. It was like she felt darkness. But it was very faint. She sighed, exasperated. “I can’t feel anything. Not really.”
“‘Not really’ sounds like something,” Newton said, an edge of hope entering his voice.
“I don’t know how to explain it, other than I sense darkness—almost like a void, I suppose.”
“But you can see the wounds on her neck,” Alex said. He pointed to the pale round marks over her carotid, almost two inches apart, the skin already looking scarred rather than raw and new.
Reuben grunted. “There’s not many things that would leave marks on the neck like that.”
“So, you do think it’s a vampire,” Newton said, pulling his scarf around his neck as if to protect it.
Avery had to agree. “It’s possible.”
“Let me see what I can feel,” Alex said, frowning.
They watched for a few seconds, and then Alex jerked back, sitting heavily on the floor. “Wow. That was intense!”
“What?” Newton crouched, too, looking worried.
Alex shook his head. “I had a vision, almost a snapshot of her final moments, and it was just as you said, Avery. I felt I had dropped into a void.” He rubbed his face. “Shit. I wish I hadn’t done that. That was horrible. I felt her despair and confusion.”
Avery reached out and squeezed his arm. “Sorry you had to feel that.”
“I’m sorry she had to feel that,” he answered.
Reuben watched silently, and then, almost regretfully, he closed his eyes and held his hands above her, too. He nodded. “Yeah, I obviously haven’t had that psychic connection, but I feel the blackness, too. But that may just be death, as she loses consciousness.” He opened his eyes again. “And yes, there’s a lot of blood loss. I don’t sense violence, though.”
“How can her death not be violent?” Newton exclaimed. “That doesn’t make sense!”
“It feels gentle, a sort of slipping away,” Reuben said, trying to find the right words for it.
Avery nodded. “Yes, that’s just like what it feels like. How do you know about the blood loss?”
“I’ve been harnessing my water elemental powers, practising with El. I can feel water and fluids in the body—it’s something I noticed when we lifted El’s curse. And consequently, I know she has less blood than she should have.”
Newton stood and walked away, and the others followed him, joined by El and Briar who had completed their search. “Have you two found anything?”
“Nothing at all,” El reported. “Nothing magical, anyway.”
Newton ran his hands through his hair, looking weary and worried. “So, we know this must be something supernatural, and most likely is a vampire. What do you know about them?”
Avery looked baffled. “Not much.”
“Well, I suggest you do some research, because if this is a vampire, I’m going to need your help in finding it, and then killing it. And if it’s not a vampire, I want to know what it is.”
Reuben looked sceptical. “Have you mentioned this theory to your colleagues? Officer Moore, for example?”
“No.” Newton glanced over to where Moore stood chatting to the PC. “But, he knows I consult you about the occult, and whispered rumours are already circulating around the station.” He looked uncomfortable. “They don’t know what I do, and I want to keep it that way, so the quicker we stop this, the better.”
***
Avery and Alex spent the rest of Sunday together at Avery’s flat, talking about the two deaths and vampires.
“This is not how I envisaged spending my day,” Alex said, as he looked through the books on Avery’s shelf in the attic.
“Nor me,” Avery said, frowning as she had a thought. “While you search those shelves, I’ll run down to the shop and check my stock on the occult.”
“And maybe find some books for Shadow’s problem, too?”
Avery nodded. “Of course. I’d almost forgot about that.”
Alex looked at her, confused. “Why are you running down? Why not use your witch-flight?”
“Of course!” Without another word and before she had a moment to doubt herself, Avery wrapped elemental Air around herself like a cloak and envisaged her shop, and within a second she was there, swaying unsteadily. But she didn’t fall over, and she wasn’t unconscious. Yes!
The shop was dark and gloomy, illuminated only by the glow from the lights on the Christmas tree in the front window. Rather than put a light on, Avery spelled a witch-light over her shoulder, safe in the knowledge that at the back of the shop and behind a large bookcase, no one outside would see.
She had a large stock of occult books, some new, but many were old, collected from house sales over the years. She started to pull books, aiming to keep her search wide. There were a f
ew titles that she didn’t remember seeing before, but Sally had been to a house sale only a few weeks before, so maybe they were from there. As she pulled a few out, a mark showed up on the cover of an old leather volume—a mark only visible because of the witch-light. She held her breath for a moment in shock. Where had this come from?
The book looked ordinary enough, if old. It was about the size of A4 paper, and an inch or so thick, with a worn leather cover and faded lettering that said, Mysteries of the Occult. Avery flicked through the first few pages and then scanned through the contents that included psychic phenomena, tarot readings, and runes and their uses. It isn’t a grimoire, but this is a witch-mark, she mused. Maybe there are more witch-marks inside? Maybe it was previously owned by a witch?
After scanning through a few more books, she gathered up the pile and flew back to the attic, arriving in front of the fire. Alex let out a cry of surprise when she manifested. “Bloody Hell! I don’t think I’ll get used to you doing that.”
“Should I ring a bell next time?” she said cheekily.
“Yes, please. I almost spilt my beer!” He handed her a glass of wine as she put the books on the floor next to the sofa. “Something to lighten our mood.”
“Cheers, I think I need it.” She sank down next to him, sipping with pleasure. “I found an interesting book with a witch-mark on it.”
His eyes widened with surprise. “A grimoire?”
“No.” She pulled it from the pile and handed it to him. “This. It looks like an ordinary, if old, non-fiction book on the occult. The mark is on the front, but there may be more inside. I didn’t inspect it that closely.”
With a whispered spell, Alex extinguished the lamps, leaving them only in fire and candlelight, and then with a flick of his wrist, he magicked a witch-light above them both. “Mysteries of the Occult,” he said, reading the title. “Not exactly exciting. But that is an interesting mark.” He lifted the book closer and squinted at it.
“I don’t recognise it. Do you think it means anything?”
He shook his head. “It may be just a way to mark a book of interest.” He turned it this way and that, feeling the cover carefully before he opened it and turned the pages gently. “I don’t feel magic on it, either.” He handed it back to her. “It’s your discovery. Maybe you should ask if Sally remembers where she got it from. Anyway, I’ll leave it to you while I sort through these I found on your shelf. Just be careful, in case something leaps from between the pages.”
“Idiot,” she said, laughing.
For the next half an hour they were both silent as they searched through the books. Avery was frustrated. “There isn’t one other single mark in this book.”
“Maybe it needs another spell to reveal them?”
“Maybe. Have you found anything?”
“Just the usual history and lore on vampires—garlic and holy water to repel them, and a stake through the heart, burning, or beheading to kill them. I’ve had a horrible thought, though.” He turned around to look at her. “What if these bodies have been bitten by vampires and start to turn?”
“You mean they become vampires, too?” She rolled her eyes. “Have you been watching old Hammer House films?”
“It’s in the lore, Avery! They might.” Alex looked very serious.
Avery shuddered, and the sudden flurry of hail against the window made her jump. “Now I’m spooked!”
Alex grinned and reached out to stroke her foot that was on his lap. “I’m going to go to the kitchen and cook us up a feast, something garlicky, because I’m starving, and a bulb a day keeps vampires away. You can keep reading. Will you be okay on your own?”
She threw a cushion at him. “Yes, I’ll be fine!”
“Maybe you should ask Dan tomorrow if there’s such a thing as Cornish vampires,” he said, as he rose from the couch and headed to the stairs. “Or, of course, ask Genevieve and the coven.”
6
Dan frowned at Avery on Monday morning. “Do you go out of your way to find trouble?”
“No! Trouble just seems to find me, thanks,” Avery answered, affronted.
It was just after nine, and the shop was still quiet. Outside it was bitter cold, and it was still dark, the light dulled by thick clouds. Hail lay on the ground from the night before, and the pavements were slippery. Avery had just updated Sally and Dan on the events over the weekend, and Sally looked horrified. “That poor girl. I saw it on the news. I didn’t think you’d be involved!”
“Newton wanted our opinion,” she explained. “And although it was horrible, we had to help.”
Dan sat on the stool behind the counter, his chin on his hand as he gazed into space. “I can’t think of any particular tales about Cornish vampires, but they don’t have to be Cornish, do they? Say these deaths are caused by vampires. They could have recently arrived. Or arisen.”
“Arisen?” Avery asked, startled. “You mean like it’s just woken up?”
“I don’t know! You’re the witch. Where’s it been all this time, if killings have just started?”
“That’s an excellent point,” Avery admitted. “Are there any other creatures that cause death by exsanguination?”
“None that spring to mind.”
Sally looked at them with her mouth open. “Are you both seriously having a discussion about the real possibility of vampires?”
“Yes, we are,” Avery answered. “There’s a whole, big paranormal world out there. Surely you can’t doubt it?”
She sighed. “No, not really. I just don’t want to have to acknowledge it. It’s Christmas, and I’m feeling jolly. Or was.”
“Me, too,” Dan said. “If I’m honest, Avery, this is not the conversation I expected to be having on a Monday morning. And no, I don’t know anything about magical objects that may open doorways to the Otherworld, either. However,” he said, holding his finger up. “There are many strange objects mentioned in British folklore, and in fact, world folklore. Objects that belonged to mythical beings that possessed great powers. But these are objects of myth, and if they once existed, they are long since lost.”
“Objects like what?” Sally asked, clearly relieved not to be talking about vampires.
“Well, for example, there are the thirteen magical objects of Britain, commonly called the Thirteen Treasures, often mentioned in the Arthurian tales and other legends.”
“What type of treasures?” Avery asked.
Dan thought for a few seconds. “There’s a sword that would burst into flames all along the blade, if it was drawn by a worthy man. There’s a halter that was owned by a man who could wish for any of his horses and it would appear in the halter, and there’s a pot that would contain any food you could wish for. Merlin collected them all together, and placed them in his tower of glass, ready for the return of King Arthur.”
Sally looked unimpressed. “Well, that’s not a very exciting group of magical objects.”
“They would be if you were starving and needed a horse,” Dan said. “There’s more, of course, but I’ll have to look them up.”
“What about rings of power?” Avery asked.
“I think you’re confusing that with Lord of the Rings.”
Avery glared at him. “No, I’m not. Cheeky sod. I know the difference between myth and fiction, thank you.”
“I’m glad you do, because it’s all starting to blur for me,” Dan said, rubbing his head. “Have you asked Caspian, or the lovely Genevieve? Or maybe Jasper? Didn’t you say he was interested in that kind of thing, too?”
“I’d forgotten about Jasper,” Avery said thoughtfully. Jasper was a member of the Cornwall Coven, and one of the witches who lived in Penzance. “I’ll ring him later. In the meantime, can you investigate for me?”
“Absolutely. I'm sure I can squash it in between pub and football.”
They were interrupted by the arrival of their first customer, and they went their separate ways, Avery mulling on ancient objects and vampires. She returned to the sta
cks, wondering if she might have missed any books that might be useful. She browsed through the arcane and occult shelves, lost in thought, and nearly jumped when Ben’s voice disturbed her.
“By fire and earth! Bloody Hell, Ben, you almost gave me a heart attack.”
He looked apologetic. “Sorry, Avery, didn’t mean to scare you.” His cheeks were red from the cold, and he pulled his woolly hat off and rubbed his dark hair to stop it sticking to his head.
“It’s fine, I’ll live. Have you come for those spells Cassie asked for? I’ve only done one so far.”
“No, although I’ll take it if it’s ready. I thought I’d show you this.” He pulled an old bottle out of his pocket and shook it gently. The bottle was old, the glass a murky blue, and stoppered with an old cork sealed with wax, much like what she’d prepared for Cassie. But instead of being filled with smoke, it contained a collection of needles and nails, and some dried, dark fluid.
“It’s a witch-bottle!” she exclaimed, taking it from Ben’s hand. She moved from behind the shelves and headed to the window to examine it under the light, Ben following her. “Where did you find this?”
“It was found in the house we’ve been asked to investigate. The one the couple are renovating. They lifted some damaged floorboards, and found this. It was used to repel curses, wasn’t it?”
Avery nodded, still examining the bottle. She turned it under the light, hearing the chink as the nails and pins turned in the bottle. She saw tiny bits of skin and fingernails shifting among the metal. A faint wisp of magic clung to it still, like the remnant of perfume on clothes. She smiled with pleasure. “Wow, this is interesting. Fancy finding one in that house!”
“How old do you think it is?” Ben asked, watching Avery turn the bottle, as fascinated by it as she was.
“A hundred years old probably, maybe older, but the witch museum could date it better than me.” She looked at Ben. “How old is the house?”
“Late eighteenth-century I think. It’s surrounded by an old garden, probably not half as big as it once would have been. I think the land has been sold off over time. Anyway, Rupert and Charlotte are restoring it.”