by Helen Harper
I watched him carefully. I doubted that was all there was to it. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed likely that his new address was about giving the appearance that he was an everyman in the hope that the Order seniors would look favourably upon him.
After the kerfuffle and corruption surrounding Order promotions, they probably wanted to make it very clear to the world that their system was based purely on merit. They didn’t want to be seen promoting someone from a wealthy, well-connected family. Affirmative action, Order style. Tarquin was slumming it because he was worried that his privileged position wouldn’t permit him to get to Second Level until the dust settled. It probably didn’t hurt that he’d moved to the same building where Eve lived, given that she’d already been promoted beyond him.
‘Where’s your car?’ I asked. He prided himself on showy numbers that wouldn’t look out of place on a racetrack. There was no way he’d have given up whatever swanky vehicle he was currently driving. His postcode, maybe. His car? Never.
‘It’s in the garage.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘I may have wrapped it round a tree last weekend.’
I wasn’t even slightly surprised. ‘Plonker,’ I dismissed.
He didn’t argue with me, he simply leaned forward, a familiar smile tugging at his mouth. When I was a teenager, he’d managed to get me to do just about anything he wanted with that expression. But I wasn’t a teenager any more.
‘Come on, Ivy. I want to talk to you so let’s make bygones be bygones. We could be friends again.’ He placed a certain emphasis on the word ‘friends’ which made me grimace in disgust.
‘Been there, done that, got expelled,’ I said.
He leaned back and shrugged as if it were entirely my loss. ‘Fine, then. But you will drive me home. I really do want to talk to you.’
Tarquin was probably enjoying the chance to order me around. As tempting as it was to turf him out, it was more tempting to take his money. It wasn’t as if I had to go out of my way to get it either.
I pursed my lips. Fine. There was no way I was going to put up with his inane chatter for the whole journey back, however. I sketched out another rune, putting up an invisible barrier between him and myself. It would effectively block out any noise and I could drive home in peace. I’d already tortured myself enough for one day.
When we finally pulled up outside my block of flats, Tarquin’s lips were still moving. I didn’t think he’d stopped talking for more than a few seconds during the entire journey. I congratulated myself on my forward planning and released the spell.
‘…and that’s when I told him he was wrong,’ he said with a dramatic flourish.
‘Excellent,’ I murmured. ‘That’s fifty quid.’
He looked startled. ‘How much?’
‘Fifty quid,’ I repeated, silently adding on a tax for the benefit of customers like him who annoyed me.
Tarquin shrugged and handed over the money. I wasn’t surprised that there wasn’t a tip; in my experience the wealthier the customer, the less generous they were likely to be. It made me feel less guilty about charging him far more than I should have.
I got out of the car. Tarquin didn’t move. Tapping my foot, I glared at him through the window. ‘Get a move on then.’
He looked startled. I wondered whether he’d been waiting for me to open the door for him like some kind of private chauffeur. As if. Belatedly getting the message that I wasn’t going to bow and scrape, he pushed the door open himself and got out. I locked up the taxi and spun away. My duty was done.
‘So did I do the right thing?’ he asked, calling out from behind me.
I ignored him and picked up my pace. He had to get the message sooner or later.
‘Ivy…’
I marched ahead. Unfortunately, Tarquin’s legs were far longer than mine and I’m rather unused to moving quickly. He caught up within seconds, grabbing my elbow and swinging me around. ‘Get your hands off me,’ I hissed.
He dropped them as if he’d been burned. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘But I do value your opinion. Just let me know what you think and I’ll leave you in peace.’
Obviously I still hadn’t the faintest idea what he’d been wittering on about. I sighed. ‘Yeah, sure. You did the right thing.’
He looked relieved, which surprised me. ‘Really? That’s great.’ He took a step forward and gazed down at me. ‘Thank you.’ For a moment he seemed sincere then he reverted abruptly to type. ‘You could come up to my place and I’ll show you my gratitude in person,’ he purred, drawing even closer. He reached up and brushed the back of his hand against my cheek, his touch feather-light.
Ick. Ick. Ick. My fingers itched to draw a rune that would teach him never to come near me again. Instead I told myself to stay calm and coyly looked up at him through my eyelashes. I pushed onto my tiptoes until we were nose to nose. ‘Tarquin,’ I breathed.
He tilted his head, his hair falling across one eye, and deepened his own voice to a husk. ‘Yes, Ivy?’
‘I think I’ve made it clear,’ I said softly, ‘that I despise you. Don’t ever come near me again. Don’t get in my taxi, don’t even say hello to me in passing if we meet in the corridor. I’m a far better witch than you and if you bother me again, you’ll regret it.’
I never got chance to hear his response. There was a loud cough from behind us. Somehow I knew who it belonged to without checking.
I turned round slowly. It was even worse than I thought.
Before I could say anything Tarquin, with wide eyes and a delighted expression, all but bowed. ‘Ipsissimus Collings! How wonderful of you to call on me at my new abode! And you brought along Adeptus Exemptus Winter. It’s a pleasure to see you both.’
I had the feeling that the Ipsissimus was looking at Tarquin as if he were trying to remember who he was, but I wasn’t paying the Order Head much attention. All my focus was on Winter. Unfortunately, his expression was completely unreadable. He was also wearing a red robe, suggesting he was here on official business rather than for a social call, which didn’t exactly fill me with the joy that his presence should have.
‘Villeneuve, is it?’ the Ipsissimus asked. He looked at Tarquin in confusion. ‘Aren’t you the one who was assaulted by Ms Wilde?’
‘That was years ago!’ Tarquin burbled happily. He put his arm round my shoulders as if to prove that we were the best of friends now, before abruptly remembering my threat of just seconds earlier and hastily removing it. ‘Why don’t we go upstairs? I have the most wonderful twenty-year-old malt that I’m sure you’ll love.’
‘Actually, we are here to speak to Ms Wilde.’
Tarquin blinked rapidly. ‘What?’ He coughed. ‘I mean, of course! What have you done now, Ivy? Been getting into mischief again?’ I glared at him. With the looming presence of the Ipsissimus, however, Tarquin barely noticed. ‘I’ll walk up with you. Maybe you can come and partake of some whisky when you’re finished with her.’
Winter’s jaw was set. ‘We are very busy. Run along now.’ There was no mistaking the patronising edge to his tone. I could have hugged him. I should have hugged him.
Tarquin looked at the Ipsissimus as if expecting him to disagree but when the Order Head simply knitted his hands together and stayed quiet, he inclined his head and started walking away. Even I could tell that he was dragging his feet. His curiosity about their visit was greater than his respect for their positions and he obviously wanted to eavesdrop.
I eyed the pair of them. ‘Do you want to go inside?’
For the first time, the Ipsissimus smiled. ‘Thank you, Ms Wilde. That would be prudent. We don’t want anyone eavesdropping on our conversation. Why don’t you lead the way?’
I nodded once, feeling surprisingly awkward. I didn’t have the faintest idea what the pair of them were doing here but I doubted it was going to be because Winter wanted to take me to bed and smother me in kisses while the Ipsissimus had tagged along merely to give his blessing to our coupling. The idea did amuse me, though
.
I turned and headed for the main doors, veering round to call the lift more out of habit than conscious action. Winter immediately sighed as if irritated. I glanced at him. ‘Would you rather take the stairs?’
It was the Ipsissimus who answered. ‘Oh my goodness, no. My bones have become remarkably creaky of late. That’s what happens when you get to my age. You young folks have all that joy to look forward to. Frankly, it’s a blessing to have some technology to help me get around. In my Order dwelling, of course, there’s nothing like this. One day we’ll find a way to combine twenty-first century advances with ancient magic but I don’t expect it will be in my lifetime.’
He was being remarkably verbose, not to mention friendly. It didn’t appear that I was going to be clapped in chains for abusing magic outside of the Order or anything like that. Intrigued now, I gestured to them both as the lift doors opened and then followed them in.
The lift is rather small and cramped so I was forced to stand very close to Winter. I brushed against him, by accident rather than by design. He flinched and drew away and my heart dropped down to my toes. Well, I guessed that answered one question.
I kept my eyes trained dead ahead, relieved when we reached my floor and I could step out and give him some space. In stiff silence, the three of us walked down the hallway to my flat.
Brutus was lying flat on his back on the sofa, all four paws in the air and his immense belly on show. He opened a lazy, slitted eye as we entered. ‘Man,’ he said. ‘Good.’
I cleared my throat. ‘Ipsissimus Collings, this is my familiar.’
The Order Head stared at Brutus. ‘Yes, Adeptus Winter did tell me about him. I must confess I didn’t quite believe him. A talking cat! How extraordinary.’ He walked over and addressed Brutus. ‘May I sit here?’
Brutus ignored him.
I licked my lips. ‘Please do sit. Can I get you anything to drink? I have, um, water.’ I hadn’t been shopping for a while and I wasn’t sure whether the milk was still drinkable.
‘No, thank you.’ The Ipsissimus carefully lowered himself, making sure not to disturb Brutus in any way.
I glanced at Winter. He’d shoved his hands in his pockets and was looking rather bored. ‘Would you like a drink?’ I asked him.
He shook his head and sat down on the chair opposite. I took up position on the other end of the sofa. Brutus rolled over onto his front and began batting at the edge of the Ipsissimus’s cuff. Then he lashed out, scratching his hand and drawing blood.
Arse. ‘Sorry!’ I leapt up and grabbed Brutus, whose tail was swinging violently from side to side. ‘He’s not always good with strangers.’ He struggled in my arms, wriggling free so he could immediately jump up onto Winter’s lap. We all watched as he turned round twice and then curled up and went straight back to sleep. I scratched my neck. Okay.
The Ipsissimus exchanged a look with Winter then focused back on me. ‘The reason we are here, Ms Wilde, is to ask for your help.’
I started. Of all the things I’d been expecting, this certainly wasn’t one of them. I slowly closed my hanging jaw and told myself to reserve judgment for now. I sat down again cautiously but I didn’t lean back; I’d make a run for it if I had to. Brutus would just have to look after himself. ‘Go on.’
‘Adeptus Winter was most effusive in his praise of you. Despite the circumstance under which you were thrown together last month, he holds you in high regard.’
I couldn’t help my smile from blossoming but, when I looked at Winter, his gaze was fixed on a spot on the far wall. Why the hell wouldn’t he look at me?
‘We worked well together and solved some serious crimes.’ I paused. ‘But I still don’t want to be in the Order.’
The Ipsissimus chuckled. ‘Oh, that’s not why we’re here. Don’t worry.’ He leaned forward slightly, shifting his hands as he did so. He was still bleeding from Brutus’s unwarranted attack. That wasn’t a particularly good sign, despite the warmth currently emanating from him. ‘Tell me, have you heard of Enchantment?’
I stared at him, wondering whether I had heard him correctly. ‘The television programme?’
He nodded in satisfaction. ‘That’s right. I’m told it’s rather popular.’
Popular? It had been the highest-rated show across the country for years. I hadn’t missed a single episode. A sudden thought occurred to me and I sat up straighter.
‘If you’re looking for someone to watch it carefully for signs of potentially powerful witches, I’m your man. Or woman. Or whatever. I should tell you that the majority of their contestants have very little magic. It’s more about their interaction and the situations they’re put in than what spells they manage to cast. But I’m prepared to let you pay me to watch it. It’ll be hard,’ I said, ‘but if it’ll help you out, I’m prepared to make that sacrifice.’
Winter snorted. ‘We’re not going to pay you to sit on your arse and watch television, Ivy.’
Shame. I met his bluer-than-blue eyes. ‘It was worth a try.’
‘Yes, because you wouldn’t put in an effort for anything else, would you?’
The castigating nature of his words hurt. I crossed my arms and looked at him in confusion. Winter was a lot of things but he was never callous or mean. Even the Ipsissimus seemed rather shocked.
Somewhat belatedly, Winter appeared to realise he’d gone too far. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered.
‘Yes, well,’ the Ipsissimus coughed. ‘The thing is that the producers of Enchantment are planning a new series. Instead of twelve would-be witches in London, they’re going for some kind of wilderness expedition. They’ve already selected their participants but during pre-production on location one of them met a rather, well, unsavoury end.’
I ripped my gaze away from Winter and tried to focus. ‘One of them is dead?’
‘Alas, yes. And under highly suspicious circumstances. This was not a natural end.’
I sucked in a breath. ‘That’s terrible. I imagine you’re concerned about it because you believe magic was involved?’
The Ipsissimus grimaced. ‘There are no primary traces. Benjamin Alberts, the poor man who died, was essentially ripped apart and found strewn halfway across a moor.’
I winced. That sounded nasty. ‘No primary traces,’ I said slowly, thinking about what he’d said. ‘But there are secondary suggestions of magic?’
The Ipsissimus nodded. ‘Whoever killed him didn’t use magic but they’d recently come into contact with it. The residue was faint but definitely there.’
I tried hard not to think about who would tear a living, breathing, human person apart. ‘What do the police say?’
‘They don’t believe there’s enough evidence that magic was involved to call us in. Neither do they have any evidence to suggest the death is connected to the television show.’
I absorbed this. Without direct evidence of any spells, the Order wouldn’t automatically be involved in the investigation and couldn’t demand to be part of it. Somehow I didn’t think this sat well with the Ipsissimus.
He continued. ‘The production company behind Enchantment wields considerable power. They have connections in high places and they’ve pulled some strings to be allowed to continue with the show. They already have a replacement for Benjamin Alberts and are all set to begin filming next week.’
‘We put in a request,’ Winter said, ‘for an Order representative to be present at all times to ensure the safety of the other contestants. Even though they don’t appear to possess enough magic ability to enter the Order, the rest of the country doesn’t see it like that.’
‘If more of them die, then the Order will be blamed,’ I said slowly. ‘Because they’re supposedly witches.’
‘Indeed.’ A muscle in Winter’s jaw throbbed. ‘It will reflect very poorly on us. Not to mention that we don’t want more of them to die.’
Well, yes, I supposed there was that too. ‘Let me guess,’ I said drily. ‘The company has refused your request. They don’t want a
nyone from the Order messing with their most popular programme.’
‘You have grasped the situation accurately, Ms Wilde,’ said the Ipsissimus. ‘We cannot afford any more bad press right now. We’ll be blamed for not acting sooner if there are further deaths but we are not being permitted to investigate the first one, or to be present to guard against any more. The large audience that this programme apparently commands means that this is a situation that merits close attention. We need someone who is not associated with the Order to go undercover and find out exactly what’s going on.’
A slow thrill descended down my spine. ‘Me.’
Winter shifted slightly, causing Brutus to growl in his lap. ‘You will do nothing other than report back. You will be there to observe and nothing else.’
‘Just watch what’s going on?’ I grinned. ‘I can do that.’ In fact it seemed right up my alley. Besides, just because one contestant had met an untimely death didn’t mean there would be more. It might just be bad luck. Very bad luck, admittedly.
Before Winter could comment yet again on what he believed to be my lazy nature, the Ipsissimus spoke up. ‘We do appreciate it. You are the perfect candidate, Ms Wilde. You fully understand the nature of magic but you have no current affiliation with the Order. Even if your past history with us is discovered, no one will have reason to think you are working for us.’
‘Because first I was expelled and then I was forced to work for you against my will,’ I said.
The Ipsissimus inclined his head. ‘Just so.’ He met my eyes. ‘Will you help us?’
‘Sure. It doesn’t sound too hard.’ I glanced at Winter. ‘I can put in the effort.’
He looked away. The Ipsissmus clapped his hands. ‘Excellent. I knew we could count on you.’ He checked his watch. ‘I shall leave Adeptus Winter to go through all the details with you. Unfortunately, I must take my leave.’
We all stood up. Even Brutus seemed keen to act politely, although he still watched the Ipsissimus depart with narrowed eyes. Apparently deciding that he needed to make sure that the Order Head was definitely leaving, he stretched before following him out to the corridor.