by Helen Harper
‘Yeah, he’s back. For good. Listen, Eve, I really have to go.’
She beamed. She wasn’t hearing me properly. ‘That’s wonderful news!’ Then her smile vanished. ‘Are you okay that he’s back?’
‘I’m in love with him, Eve. Whatever makes him happy makes me happy. As long as his happy doesn’t involve throwing water over me to wake me up or making me go jogging. You get what I mean.’ She nodded vigorously. ‘Now,’ I continued, ‘I really have to go.’
She finally seemed to realise that I was serious. Her smile dropped and her gaze grew anxious. ‘What’s going on?’
I looked at her assessingly. Eve was in Arcane Branch; she knew how to maintain a level head. ‘There’s a serial-killing null on campus. He’s already killed the Ipsissimus and there’s no doubt that he’s here to kill others. The more witches the better, as far as he’s concerned. We have to find him and stop him but we can’t use magic against him. I have a bunch of ghosts on the look out for him but it’s difficult because they tend to vanish whenever he is in the vicinity.’
She blinked. ‘Uh…but…’
‘Everyone thinks he’s in Uffington. He’s not.’
‘You’re talking about Hal Prescott. The Bearded Butcher.’
Bloody Tarquin Villeneuve. ‘Blackbeard. Yeah. Whatever. He’s here and we need to find him before he kills anyone else.’
‘They wouldn’t let me go,’ she said, the colour draining out of her face. ‘They only wanted the experienced witches to go to Uffington. The only ones left are people like me who don’t know what they’re doing.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I snapped, marching off again, my gaze swinging around desperately for any glimpse of Blackbeard. Eve had no trouble keeping up with me with her long-legged stride. ‘You know exactly what you’re doing. Find the bad guy. Stop the bad guy. Don’t use magic. It’s pretty simple.’
‘Ivy,’ she whispered, ‘if we can’t use magic, how can we stop him?’
I opened my mouth to answer her, just as the familiar figure of Lily came flying round the corner, her arms flapping wildly. As she ran, three other figures popped into existence beside her, fleeing even faster than she was. She zipped past both Eve and I without a second glance. Of course – she was looking for Winter, not me. He was the one she trusted; I didn’t even register in her field of vision.
Fortunately the dead had more respect. All three ghosts came careening to a halt. ‘You’re her,’ one gasped. ‘He must be over there!’
‘It was the strangest thing,’ said another. ‘I was walking along minding my own business and keeping an eye out, then everything went black.’
‘You reappeared in the same spot?’ I demanded.
I felt rather than saw Eve staring at me. ‘Are you talking to one of them? Are you talking to a ghost?’
We all ignored her. The ghost nodded. ‘Yes. I was beside the fountain. When I returned I was still there.’
‘Blackbeard is on the move.’ I grimaced. It was a long time since I’d been here and my knowledge of the Order campus layout wasn’t as up to date as it should have been. ‘What’s beyond the fountain, Eve?’
Eve’s hand went up to her mouth and she stared at me in horror.
‘What? What is it?’ I tamped down the temptation to shake her as hard as I could.
‘The crèche,’ she said. ‘Witches who have kids can leave them there during the day. It’s the only building past that point.’
I felt ill. It made a sick kind of sense – if you were Blackbeard. Lop off the head then move on to the future. Destroy the next generation of witches and you’d destroy the Order for good. I swallowed. And then I began to run.
Even with the sound of the cascading water from the fountain and the distance between Eve and me and the crèche, it was obvious that something was terribly wrong. The screams and shouts said it all. You’d have had to be truly evil not to have felt terrified by the sounds that were rending the air.
I sprinted as fast as I could but Eve quickly overtook me. She pelted straight ahead while I was left gasping. Maybe I ought to join the gym once all this was over and done with. Then I shook myself. The fear and trepidation were clearly getting to me. Every time I was in a life-or-death situation, I started to think I should lead a healthier lifestyle. The trick was to start avoiding life-or-death situations. With that in the forefront of my mind, I put on an extra spurt and rounded the corner just as Eve flung herself towards Blackbeard and leapt onto his back. Four witches, all of whom must have been crèche workers, flung repeated streams of magic attacks in his direction.
He laughed and tried to shake off Eve. ‘Do your worst, witches,’ he bellowed. ‘You can’t hurt me!’ He spun round and I spotted the long, shining blade in his hands. That was probably the same one he’d used to kill Clare and the rest of her coven. It was probably the same one he’d used to kill the Ipsissimus.
Eve shrieked like an Amazon warrior and curved her head down, biting his ear. Blood spurted everywhere. Unfortunately, it only enraged Blackbeard and didn’t slow him down in the slightest. He thrust the blade upwards, narrowly avoiding sliding it straight through Eve’s neck. She swung to one side. Terrified that he’d succeed if he tried the manoeuvre a second time, I ran towards them.
I gestured frantically to the four crèche witches. They got the message and used the momentary distraction to vanish back indoors and look after their charges. They’d probably already realised that magic wasn’t going to work here. While I charged at Blackbeard to try and help Eve, a window opened and various objects were thrown out. Somehow I didn’t think a plastic toy elephant was going to be much of a weapon; neither was the breast pump much use. The milk bottle, however…
I switched direction and darted over to snatch it up just as Blackbeard finally threw off Eve. Her body smacked into the wall of the crèche and she slumped down like a broken doll. Shit. He turned towards her, blade raised, obviously ready to finish her off.
I yelled and twisted off the bottle top. ‘Have some boiling water,’ I shrieked, throwing the milk at him.
Blackbeard raised his hand to shield his eyes; he didn’t know the liquid was barely lukewarm. When he realised he’d been fooled, he snarled and abandoned his bid to kill Eve in favour of facing this new threat. Me.
He swiped the blade forward. Surprise, surprise, I wasn’t fast enough to dodge it and it sliced through my arm. I cried out involuntarily. Blackbeard’s eyes widened as he recognised me. A small, dull voice nibbled at the back of my mind: use this, Ivy. You can use this.
I threw myself to the ground, collapsing onto my knees in front of him. ‘I’m not a witch!’ I wailed. ‘Don’t kill me! I can’t use magic at all!’
Blackbeard paused, the knife held aloft. He frowned at me as if trying to decide what to do. Then he lowered his arms and glanced around. Eve was out cold and the crèche witches had vanished. To all intents and purposes, it was just him and me.
‘You might not be a witch,’ he spat, ‘but you sleep with witches. You are here with witches. As a collaborator, you are as bad as they are. Worse even.’
‘It’s not my fault,’ I babbled. ‘I’m not smart. I don’t have any special skills. I’m just a taxi driver. I thought hanging around witches would make my life better. Instead it’s much, much worse. Now I’m stuck with them and I don’t know how to escape.’ I grabbed hold of his trouser legs. ‘You can help me.’
He kicked me away. ‘You’re lying.’
‘I’m not!’ I held up my hands. ‘My ID is in my pocket.’ I pulled it out and tossed it over to him. ‘See?’ I said. ‘I’m a taxi driver. I’m like you. I’m not a witch, I don’t want to be a witch. I think they bewitched me because they wanted a chauffeur. I’m no other use to them. But…’ my voice dropped ‘…I think they want to use me in some of their spells. Black magic stuff. They want my blood. They want to do evil things.’
When it came to killing and planning for killing, Blackbeard was a clever man but even clever men have b
lind spots. Prejudice can blind even the smartest fool and Blackbeard’s prejudice was against witches. All I needed was to cast some doubt; all I needed was to gain some time.
He shook his large head. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘But I can’t trust that you’re telling the truth.’
‘You know I’m not a witch,’ I pleaded. ‘You know from my ID that I’m just a taxi driver. I don’t know what else I can do to prove that I’m not like them.’
‘Tough. I’ve already let you escape once. I was kind then but I can’t afford to be kind now. You had your chance.’
I sagged. ‘Fine,’ I whispered. ‘In truth, anything will be better than remaining here with these bastards. But … are we the same? Do we hate them in the same way? Is that why you’re killing them?’ I kept my head low and subdued my body language. I was already defeated; I was already prepared to die.
‘All witches are evil. All witches are unnatural.’ Blackbeard said the words as if by rote. He’d been taught to believe this. More fool him.
‘Why did you kill the coven?’ I asked. ‘Why not come straight here first? Raphael, the witch I was with on Dartmoor? He learned about you because you destroyed that coven. Without their deaths, no one would have known you existed. Why them?’
He gave me a blank look. ‘They were there and I needed the practice. I had to know if I was capable of murder. Not everyone is.’ He rubbed his ear where Eve had bitten it, then pulled his hands away and gazed at the blood as if seeing it for the first time. ‘It’s a lot easier than I thought it would be. I knew that having ended them, I could end anyone.’ He raised his massive shoulders in a shrug, as if surprised by himself and his ability to kill, in the same way that I would be surprised if I discovered some money wedged underneath a sofa cushion. ‘How did the witch find out about them anyway?’
Ah ha. Maybe I’d piqued his curiosity. A glimmer of hope rippled through me. I had to manage this properly; I had to give a good enough answer to keep him talking. The closer I stayed to the truth, the more believable I’d be. ‘I told you. Some kind of black magic. I think…’ I hesitated. ‘I think he’s been talking to corpses and they talk back.’
‘Unnatural,’ Blackbeard muttered.
Tell me about it. ‘Why didn’t you just burn all their bodies at once? Why not get rid of them in one go?’
He checked his watch. ‘How many questions are you planning on asking?’ His voice wasn’t irritated, just curious as if he wanted to be sure he could adjust his schedule if necessary. At that point I realised that he wanted to talk; he was desperate to share his exploits with someone who would listen. He’d spent so long hiding his actions that all he wanted to do now was to spill his secrets to the world. And the more I could delay him, the better chance I had.
‘Only a few more,’ I said. ‘I just want to understand.’
He nodded. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘it’s kind of hard to burn seven bodies in one go. They don’t burn quickly and I had limited time each night to do it. I had to keep them in my flat until I could transport them to the crematorium without anyone noticing. And the longer I had to wait, the more I realised I enjoyed it.’ He bared his teeth. ‘Anticipation is a wonderful thing. It’s usually a greater pleasure than the end result. So I drew out disposing of the ashes in the same way.’ He smiled. Chillingly, it was a genuine smile, filled with joy. ‘It was a lot of fun. And each time I got rid of the ash, the feeling built up here.’ He thumped his chest. ‘The need. The desire.’
‘The desire to kill?’
His eyes glowed. He thought I understood, that I ‘got’ him. I’d get him alright, just not in the way he thought. ‘That’s it exactly.’
‘You planned everything so well,’ I said. ‘The secret room in your flat was a stroke of genius.’
‘I had to be in control, to make sure that when those bastards came after me they did it on my terms. Not on theirs.’ His face twisted. ‘This was Plan B, though. Plan A was even better but I had to change it because of you. You knew I’d killed that coven so I had to alter everything.’
I tried to keep my expression blank. All those media embargoes and all that tiptoeing around – and I’d already given the game away when I met Blackbeard in the pub car park. Eve was unconscious. Perhaps I’d manage to keep that little titbit to myself.
‘Uh, sorry,’ I stammered.
He shrugged. ‘It’s good to be tested. And I always had my Plan B ready. That’s why I had that fake glass wall made. I wasn’t sure anyone would be smart enough to spot it was a fake but I hoped they would. Then they’d follow my fake trail and I’d be safe to do what I wanted.’ He gestured round. ‘As you see.’
‘Fake glass?’ I asked. ‘Not mirror?’
‘Real mirrored glass is costly and difficult to break.’ He stroked his beard. ‘The stuff I had was the same as they use in films for actors so they don’t get hurt when they jump through windows.’ He sounded very proud.
If it wasn’t a real mirror that I’d broken in Blackbeard’s flat, I didn’t have seven years’ bad luck coming my way. This day was looking better and better. ‘Thanks,’ I said, meaning it. ‘I appreciate knowing that.’
‘You’re welcome.’
A mass murderer with manners. I swallowed. ‘There is one thing I should mention,’ I said. ‘One thing that leaves you a little bit screwed.’
He raised his black, bushy eyebrows. ‘What’s that?’
‘I lied. I’m a witch.’ I smiled. ‘I’m a witchy witch with witch blood running through my veins and magic in my soul.’
Apparently I was a better liar than I thought. ‘No, you’re not,’ Blackbeard said. ‘If you were a witch, you’d have tried to bespell me the first time we met.’
It was my turn to shrug. ‘I had my reasons for avoiding magic back then. And I have to avoid it now, of course, because it won’t affect you. This will though.’ And I reached up with both hands and yanked on his beard as hard as I could.
He screamed: apparently trying to rip off someone’s chin really hurts. I held on with my left hand, avoiding the swinging knife, and let go with my right hand so I could reach upwards. I jabbed two fingers into his eyes, jamming them into his eye sockets. I didn’t blind him permanently – he jerked away too quickly for that – but he wouldn’t be able to see much for the next few minutes. There was still hope.
He flailed around, still clinging on to that damned blade. Until I got him to drop it, we were all in danger. I danced round, lunging for his hands and trying to grab the knife handle so I could wrestle it from him. Blinded as he was, he still worked out what I was doing and slashed the weapon at me again, this time managing to cut my cheek. I yelped. Then Blackbeard’s free hand snaked out, grabbed a hank of my hair and dragged me over.
‘You little bitch,’ he hissed. ‘You thought you could fool me? You thought you could best me? I might well die this day but I’m going to take you with me. And as many of your little witch friends as I can manage.’
There was a loud thud. For a moment, Blackbeard stood stock still then he keeled over, knocking me to the ground in the process. Behind him stood Tarquin, holding a bloodied rock in both hands.
‘I did it,’ he breathed. ‘I’m a hero.’ He looked at me with what was supposed to be a disarming smile. ‘I saved your life and saved the day.’
Arsing hell. I scrambled away from both Blackbeard and Tarquin and rolled over. Maybe that damned glass had been a real mirror after all.
‘I saved everyone!’ Tarquin shouted. ‘I killed the serial killer!’
I lay on my back, panting like a dog. From the wall of the crèche, I heard Eve groan. ‘What the hell?’ she said. ‘What happened?’
‘I won!’ Tarquin shouted. ‘I’m the best!’
Warm, sticky blood coated my skin where Blackbeard had cut me but I could already feel it congealing. I was going to live. More importantly, so would everyone else. Although maybe I could still grab hold of Blackbeard’s knife and slide it into Tarquin’s ribs when no one was looking
.
A shadow fell across my face and I squinted upwards. When I saw Winter’s familiar sapphire eyes frowning down at me, I gave him as wide a grin as I could manage. ‘Ipsissimus Winter,’ I said. ‘How lovely to see you. I would get up but I’m not sure my legs can hold my weight.’
He put his hands on his hips. ‘You bloody idiot. What the hell did you think you were doing taking on Blackbeard single-handed?’
‘Eve helped. I wasn’t on my own.’ From the side, Tarquin continued to crow. ‘Besides, the real hero is over there.’
Winter rolled his eyes and snorted. ‘Dragging Eve into your foolish schemes is not likely to help your cause. At the rate you keep flinging yourself into danger’s path, I’m going to have tie you up to keep you out of harm’s way.’
‘I’m sure we’ve had this conversation before,’ I said. ‘I quite like being tied up. You must have spotted my furry handcuffs by now, Rafe.’ I wasn’t lying; it was a lot of fun abandoning yourself to someone else. Especially if they were Raphael Winter and they were going to do all the hard work. So to speak.
Winter sighed but there was a glint in his eyes at my words. Then he looked around soberly. ‘You shouldn’t have done this. It’s not your job to save me, Ivy.’
‘It wasn’t Ivy who saved you. It was me!’
Before Tarquin received a sharp slap, someone had the sense to pull him away. I breathed out and raised myself onto my elbows. ‘Someone’s got to try and rescue you, Rafe. Especially with all these young witch women throwing themselves at you like you’re some kind of rock hero. I need to stamp my mark. Unfortunately, Tarquin beat me to it.’
A look of exasperation crossed Winter’s face. ‘Can you stand up?’
I pretended to make the effort. ‘Oh,’ I groaned. ‘I don’t think so. You’ll have to carry me.’
‘Fireman’s lift it is, then.’
Whoa. ‘I’m getting up! Bloody hell.’ I used his hand to bring myself upright. Then I looked around; there was a great deal of blood. And mess. ‘The Order aren’t going to bill me for this, are they?’