Hunter and Adam made their way downstairs, the old house was dark and still sleeping. They stopped at the living room, which was illuminated by the crackling fire someone had helpfully lit. There, as Adam had promised, a familiar monk stood. Marcus was inspecting the bookshelf as he waited, his eyes drifting over the British classics.
“Marcus, you’re here early.” Hunter said pointedly.
“I did not want to miss you, Hunter.” The monk said, looking a little sheepish. “I did not know your routine. But you did not have to get up, I wait.”
“Adam told me you were here.” Hunter explained. “C’mon, kitchen. Coffee.”
Hunter yawned and led the way to the kitchen. Adam ran ahead and began rummaging in the cupboards, triumphantly pulling out a bright box of cereal.
Hunter went to get a bowl, but his son snatched it from him. “I can do it.” Adam insisted.
Hunter smiled, reluctantly letting his son make his own breakfast, images of the potential mess the Coco Pops would make. He turned to build a fire in the aga and tried to get a match to light. Hunter heard Marcus chuckle behind him, and a fire sprung up in front of him, causing Hunter to fall back onto his arse.
“That’s cheating.” Hunter stated. “I never managed to learn that trick.”
“Hmm, it is strange.” Marcus replied, suddenly serious. “That you can shield an army, but you cannot light a fire.”
“Yes, thanks – the senior monks enjoyed pointing that out.” Hunter sighed at the hours spent in theory and practice as he tried and failed to learn something even the youngest monks could do; and the following, in-depth discussions about possible reasons and solutions. It had all made Hunter’s headache; he had never done well with finicky detail. That had always been James’ job.
“At least I finally learnt how to make that hovering light.” Hunter said defensively, to stop the natural progression of where his thoughts were leading.
“So, this is Adam.” Marcus said as Hunter put a pot on the stove. “It is nice to meet you, signorino. I have heard a lot. Biagio ti ha insegnato italiano, sì?”
“Biagio!” Adam started through a mouthful of Coco Pops. “Abbiamo giocato a calico.”
“Incredibile.” Marcus glanced at Hunter. “Your son has a talent for languages.”
Hunter handed a mug of hot coffee to his friend. That was an understatement, to be honest, it worried Hunter a little that his son picked up so much so easily. “Anyway, I though you two had met earlier this morning? Adam was supposed to be in bed.”
Marcus looked confused. “You are mistaken, Hunter. I see no one this morning.”
“But he…” Hunter broke off, frowning. It was too early to work anything out. “What brings you here, Marcus?”
“The Abate wanted to send a message. I volunteered.” Marcus replied, pulling a face as he took a sip of the bitter coffee. “He says well done with the… the… macchina.”
“Sorry, it’s the best we’ve got.” Hunter mentioned, very much aware that he needed to restock his pantry. “Is the Abate and the Donili ready to spread the word?”
“They already do it, Hunter. My wife is with your MMC as we speak. Biagio has gone to Fraulein Kuhn. Luis to South Africa; Anna to America… The list is long, most of the monks have decided to help you.”
“Marissa is with my MMC?” Hunter echoed, worried at the idea of sweet innocent Marissa dealing with General Dawkins. “Will she be safe? They won’t confuse her for a witch; or view her in ill light because of the connection with me?”
“Marissa can take care of herself.” Marcus said with a slow smile as he thought of his love. “We have agreed to meet at the Abbazia de Donili in one week to discuss the next step.”
The talk drifted conversationally over life in Donili for the next hour or so. Adam, after his early and exciting start, was falling asleep where he sat, so Hunter picked him up and carried him to the living room, laying him on the settee.
Hunter had made a second round of coffee, and he and Marcus sat in amiable silence by the time the rest of the house stirred. Hunter always liked to hear footsteps and voices filling his house. The Manor, for all that it made him feel at home, could also make him feel cut off from the rest of the world.
Marcus flinched beside him, and Hunter looked up to see Mel enter the room. He could not blame the monk for feeling a tad uncomfortable with a demon around.
Then something clicked.
“Mel, can I speak with you outside?” Hunter said, his voice cold as he tried to keep his temper in check.
Hunter pushed past a dazed-looking Shaun and ignored Kristen as she shouted his name. Hunter threw open the front door and stalked out into the courtyard, the gravel crunching underfoot. Hunter squinted in the bright sun and ignored the beauty of the countryside around him.
Mel followed him, her plimsole-covered feet were feather light and making hardly any noise.
Hunter stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. Her blue eyes were wide, and she looked so innocent in her white summer dress. Hunter pushed aside that instinct to trust and protect her.
“Mel, what is Incy?” He snapped.
Mel looked bemused at Hunter’s ignorance. “He’s a spider, George.”
“Is he a familiar?”
The world was silent, the wind stilled, and the morning chorus of birds quietened. A familiar. Hunter felt sick mentioning it.
The silence seemed to stretch on.
“Yes.” Mel whispered.
“You gave my son a familiar!” Hunter roared, his calm breaking. “You gave my five-year-old son a fu-”
“Hunter!” Kristen shouted as she jogged over to them. She looked between Hunter and Mel, hardly believing that Hunter was losing his temper with her. “What the hell is going on?”
“Adam’s pet spider is a familiar.” Hunter said with disgust.
Kristen paused. “Have you given her chance to explain?”
“No, but-”
“Then don’t be so damned hasty.” Kristen turned to Mel. “Mel, why did you give Incy to Adam?”
“For protection.” Mel said simply, watching as Hunter started to pace in front of her, the energy of his anger almost palpable.
“Is it dangerous?” Kristen asked, forcing herself to keep her attention on Mel. “Will it hurt Adam?”
Mel looked shocked that she would even ask. “No! Incy is there to protect and serve Adam.”
Hunter just grunted and kept pacing.
Kristen put her hand on Mel’s shoulder. “Mel, why don’t you go have breakfast while I have a chat with Hunter.”
After taking a moment to work out who Hunter was, Mel turned and went back to the house with all the appearance of a kicked puppy.
“Why are you defending her?” Hunter snapped after Mel had retreated.
“Uh, maybe because I don’t need you losing it and accidently blowing something up. Plus, it would be pretty dumb to piss off a demon. And I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re making out.”
Hunter stopped his pacing and glared at Kristen. He hated that she had made two very good points; and one that was way off the mark.
“I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to understand, Miss Davies. You were never educated; you couldn’t know what it means.”
Kristen nodded, her lips pursed, then reached out and slapped Hunter across the face hard enough to make his head snap back.
Hunter staggered back, surprised. “Ouch!” That was the hardest a woman had ever slapped him, but then again, he’d never been slapped by a 6th gen witch-hunter.
“Be glad that’s all you’re getting. I don’t need you, or anyone, accusing me of being uneducated. I have a GPA of 4.0 and I have the benefit of not being brainwashed by your Malleus Maleficarum prejudices.”
“You don’t understand.” Hunter forced himself to be reasonable. “A familiar is a devil-spawned creature that feeds off witches to survive.”
Kristen rolled her eyes. “It’s a symbiotic partnership – in return the witch gets
a loyal servant. I have done the reading, Hunter.”
Hunter swore beneath his breath and stalked away towards the expansive Astley grounds.
Kristen jogged to catch up with his longer strides. “What’s really upsetting you Hunter? That Incy’s a familiar? Because you’ve been perfectly fine and accepting that Mel’s a demon. Or is it because it further points out that Adam’s a witch!”
Hunter stopped. He didn’t want Kristen to be right, but he couldn’t deny the pang of guilt in his stomach.
Kristen walked round to face him, then stepped closer, her hands running up his muscled arms, her head resting on his chest. Hunter felt the warmth and comfort of her, it felt right.
Kristen tilted her head back to look at him. “There is no rulebook on what to expect where Adam is concerned. Just don’t take it out on others.” She rose onto her toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
Hunter responded by pulling her tighter against him. “I’ll try. Can I rely on you to step in and distract me when it goes wrong?”
Kristen looked up at him, a blush colouring her cheeks. “I think I can handle that. Come on, let’s get back inside, I want to catch up with Marcus.”
Kristen slipped her hand into Hunter’s and he let her lead him across the long grass. Hunter still wasn’t happy, but the initial shock had passed. He wondered if there was any way of guaranteeing Mel was telling the truth, rather than relying on instinct.
As they came back to the front of the house, Hunter glanced warily at the living room windows and surreptitiously dropped Kristen’s hand.
She immediately turned to give him a questioning look.
“Sorry. I’m not ready… for ‘us’ to be public.” He explained weakly.
“Way to charm a girl, Hunter.” Kristen snapped, her patience suddenly fraying. “And just so you know – most of them have already guessed.”
Kristen turned in her heel and marched through the heavy front door, making it slam back on its hinges.
Hunter’s old womanising ego savagely kicked him in the head. But it was too late to change how badly that had come out and he had enough to worry about without adding Kristen to the list.
As he walked into the living room, he saw that Adam was awake now. Probably due to the numerous adults gathered awkwardly, waiting for Hunter to return.
“Adam, come with me.” Hunter said quietly, nodding to the corridor.
“It wasn’t me!” He replied quickly; his big hazel eyes worried.
Hunter smiled. “Nothing’s wrong. Just come on, it’s secret.”
The boy jumped down from the settee and pushed past Shaun to get to join his father.
Hunter didn’t go far, leading his son to the empty library. He closed the door firmly behind him, then turned to face the boy.
“Adam, does Incy ever bite you?”
“Yes – but it doesn’t hurt daddy!” Adam answered, looking very worried again. “You won’t make me get rid of him, will you? Because he’s mine. And Mel – Mel says it’s normal.”
Hunter took a deep breath, reminding himself to stay calm. He couldn’t believe Mel would tell his son that; normal – how the hell did Mel know what was normal!
“Adam, show me where Incy bites you.” Hunter requested.
Adam hesitated, then rolled up his trouser leg. “There.” He pointed to the back of his right calf.
Hunter knelt down and ran his thumb over the area that Adam indicated. His flesh paled and flashed back pink where pressure was applied. Apart from one spot the size of a penny; it stayed pale and did not change colour, because there were no capillaries to do the job.
The witches’ spot. The site on a witch’s body where their familiar fed; reputed not to bleed; and one of the signs that medieval ‘witch-prickers’ used to identify and persecute witches. Hunter knew enough of the history and anatomy attached to the spot, and the truth was that Kristen was right – it was yet another reminder that his son was a witch.
“Daddy, I miss mummy.” Adam said as his father’s silence continued. “She’d let me keep Incy.”
Hunter sighed in defeat. “You can keep the spider, Adam.”
The boy sat quietly for a minute. “When’s mummy coming?”
Hunter hesitated, it was not a conversation he wanted to get into, how could he tell a five-year-old that his mother was a baddie on the other side? He wondered how Sophie had managed up to now. Hunter had no proof, but his gut feeling told him that Sophie had never painted him as the bad guy in Adam’s eyes.
“We’ll see her soon, Adam. Soon.” He finally answered, honestly enough.
Chapter Thirty-two
Hunter tried to concentrate, but throughout his conversation with Marcus and for the rest of the day, his mind kept coming back to Mel. He felt unsettled that he had allowed this demon such unlimited access to his son. When he put it in such stark terms, Hunter could hardly believe it; he had been so quick to trust Mel. Despite every logic, and the warning from the abate, he had continued to accept that she was here to help.
By that evening, Hunter decided that he had to do something. He quietly asked Mel to join him in the library; as an afterthought, he asked Kristen to come too.
The little blonde demon walked into the library with her usual, skipping step, then turned to face Hunter with those big, curious blue eyes.
Hunter waited for Kristen to come in and perch on the nearest table. He closed the door and slowly turned back to Mel.
“Mel… you are my friend, yes?” He asked hesitantly.
“Of course, George.” Mel replied, smiling at the easy question.
“I want to be your friend; I want to trust you. But I don’t trust your boss.” Hunter said, getting straight to the point.
Mel pouted at what she considered unnecessary worry. “Luci is only trying to-”
“Trying to help, yes, I know.” Hunter cut in. “When we were in Donili, you said that you weren’t supposed to help us. What were you supposed to do?”
Mel chewed her lip, swaying slightly where she stood. “I was supposed to watch. I was supposed to keep the witch-hunters safe until you came. I… I was supposed to stay unseen, but everyone was so nice. I hadn’t had friends before.”
“So, does that mean you don’t have to do everything Lucifer says?” Hunter asked. “You can choose to disobey?”
Mel continued to look uncomfortable. “He doesn’t control me. I won’t be punished as long as everything happens as it should.”
Hunter shivered at the very idea that he was playing into the hands of the devil. “What about Adam? What did Lucifer ask you to do for him?”
Mel blinked in surprise, thinking it obvious. “He asked me to give him a familiar.”
“Is that everything?”
Mel was startled by the harshness of Hunter’s voice. She nodded. “I am here for you George, not Adam.”
Hunter glanced at Kristen, hoping that she would jump in if she thought he was being too harsh, but the American just gazed calmly towards the two of them.
“Mel, you said that you could read the truth. Really look at what your boss is doing and tell me that he isn’t interested in Adam.” Hunter insisted. “Tell me that there isn’t a possibility that he will try and claim Adam.”
Mel looked away, her unease growing. When she turned back to Hunter, there were tears in her eyes. “Yes.”
Hunter heard Kristen move from her table. He gave a bitter smile, a silent promise that he wasn’t about to lose his temper again.
“And he will use you to get to him.” Hunter said, resignation in his voice. “Mel, I can’t let that happen. I need you to make a choice. You have to stop working for Lucifer, you have to reject him and all his future plans. Or you have to leave and never come back.”
“Y-you don’t want me?” Mel stuttered.
Hunter sighed, his heart breaking at the sight of the distraught and innocent Mel. “We all want you to stay, Mel. But I can’t risk Adam.”
“H-he’ll hurt me.”
Mel shook her head. “No, no, I don’t need to wait. I choose my friends; I will always choose my friends.”
*****
The following afternoon, and Hunter and his accomplices were sitting in the garden.
“Your English countryside is as beautiful as you say, Hunter.” Marcus remarked, glancing curiously at his host. “But this… is this the normale build-up to a war?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hunter replied innocently, as he took in the scene. Mel and Kristen sat on the lawn, Mel busy threading daisies into Kristen’s hair; Shaun was racing Adam around Mrs Astley’s geraniums. Jack sat reading, occasionally looking up from his book to smirk at his younger colleague.
“I don’t think this war has any precedent for comparison – unless we go back to the Middle Ages and my records get sketchy that far in the past.”
Marcus frowned at the long words and waited for Hunter to repeat his meaning in Italian.
Hunter added more. “These men and women… and demons… they are going to fight with us. I shan’t deny them time to relax and enjoy themselves. Besides, don’t you know how rare it is for a British summer not to be accompanied by rain?”
Marcus smiled and shook his head but gazed contentedly across the grounds of the Astley estate. The once controlled lawns and hedges looking slightly wild, and all the more beautiful for it.
“I see why you fight, if you come home to this.” Marcus observed. Suddenly the monk sat a little straighter, turning his gaze to the house. Marcus relaxed again and smiled. “You have a guest.”
Hunter grimaced, wondering whose arrival could amuse Marcus. He really did not want his mother coming out to join them. Mrs Astley would only complain over the state of her garden.
He looked up and was very pleased and surprised to see Biagio walking over to them instead.
“Biagio! I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Yes, the Abate has given me permission to come here before the official meeting in Donili. Your mother told me you were out here.” Biagio replied, faltering a little at the mention of Mrs Astley. “She is… very pleasant.”
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