Growing bored, she wanders about the place, noticing how tidy it is, and as she enters the sitting room she looks at the photos on display. Ben with his family. Ben with his friends. On the coffee table she sees a book. Reading the title she realizes she has read it.
With this realization she becomes confused. She always believed werewolves to be stupid, messy creatures, but this boy was everything opposite. Apparently he was house proud, smart, and unashamed to have photos of his family, where his friends could see them.
She hears a car pull up quickly outside. Peering out the window, she spots Eve Allhallows’ granddaughter and a vampire climbing out of the car. As her anger resurfaces, she watches as the witch walks over to Ben, stopping him on his way to his house so she can talk to him. The vampire who had been knocking on doors joins them.
A couple of minutes later they walk away, and Ben carries on toward his house once more. Quickly Evelyn hurries back to her hiding spot behind the kitchen door, where she waits in growing anger for him to enter the kitchen.
She doesn’t have to wait long, and once he passes her hiding spot, she creeps out and smashes his skull in, watching as his body crumples to the floor. She stares for a minute as the anger seeps from her body.
She looks properly at the dead boy lying on the floor. For once she sees him as a boy, not a different species. Her chin wobbles. Shaking herself, she reaches for her bag. Removing a black candle, incense, and a lighter, she quickly reanimates his body before she changes her mind,
“After all, you’re already dead. Might as well use you,” she mutters to Ben, as if she had stumbled upon the body and decided to use him. On her third try, she manages to reanimate the body.
“Go next door, and kill them all,” she crows in delight as she sends Ben jerkily on his mission, just as someone knocks on the front door. Crouching down and hiding, she watches as Ben opens the front door and the witch talks to him. She notices the instant she realizes something is wrong with him. She stares as the witch backs away and runs next door.
In delight she moves into the sitting room where she carries on watching the scene unfold, delighting in their fear, until everything changes. She watches as the witch’s eyes turn an impossible shade of violet, and flames erupt from her hands.
In fear, Evelyn runs back into the kitchen, grabbing her hammer and matches, dumping them into her bag. Blowing out her candle, she douses the incense, and clutching them in her hands, she runs out the back door.
She’s halfway through the garden, when she’s wrapped in an invisible embrace like a steel trap and dragged back through the house and toward the witch.
Screaming her hatred, she shakes in fear as Hecate speaks through the witch, strips her of her powers, and Hecate’s hounds drag her into hell.
The ghostly blue fades, and once more we’re in the blood scented kitchen. Quickly I head into the garden where I spot Evelyn’s bag in the grass. Calling Kheda, I point it out, and we go toward it. I photograph the area, the position of the candle, drenched incense, and the bag. Kheda retrieves all the items and brings them back into the kitchen where we search for any clues. There is nothing obvious, just the usual items you would expect to find in a woman’s handbag. It holds a comb, pen, shopping bag, phone, knitting (probably for knot spells, not for actual knitting), old receipts, keys, and different color candles and incense. With an annoyed huff, Kheda puts the phone on the table.
“Nothing of use in there. I don’t think she used it often,” he grunts in annoyance.
I look at the contents on the table in confusion. I know it’s quite a lot she has in her bag but…
“Is that all?” Jasmine asks as she looks at the contents in front of her.
“Isn’t it enough?” Victor laughs. “I mean, the only thing she’s missing is the kitchen sink!”
Shaking my head, I pick up the bag and shake it. Something inside shifts, keeping the bag just the tiniest bit heavier than it should be. Quickly, I turn the bag inside out and feel for a pouch small enough to go unnoticed, but large enough to hold something inside.
It’s Jasmine who finally notices it, a slim pouch in the lining near the seam. Easily missed, if you didn’t know it was there or looking for it. She slips her long slim fingers in nervously as she doesn’t know what’s inside, or if it’s bespelled. Finally she extracts a slim leather-bound black book.
Her personal space a thing of the past, I stare over her shoulder, so I can read what’s in the book. Opening it up, she finds spells and some names. Farther into it she sees Ben’s address, who to send him after, and finally directions to another location. Silently she hands the book to Kheda.
Taking it from her, Kheda flicks through it stopping at the directions. His brow furrows in concentration as he looks at the diagram, reading the directions. “I can’t for the life of me think where this is,” he mutters.
Victor and I peer over his shoulder so we can see if we recognize it. The next thing Victor whips out his phone. Speed dialing a number, he harshly informs whoever answered to get out, get everyone out now.
Chapter 22
In a flash, Victor hangs up and dashes out the back door.
“What is it, Victor?” I yell.
Looking back at me, Victor pauses to reply, “My bar.” He reaches a hand out to me, which I take willingly. Victor pulls me against him and shoots up into the sky, leaving Kheda and Jasmine behind. I tuck my head into the crook of his neck, inhaling his warm musky sent which reminds me of spices, and hot summer nights in the desert, even though I’ve never been to the desert. I cling tightly to him; a second later, we land in the woods behind Victor’s bar.
The screaming and scent of terror assails our senses, as we dash to the back of the building. Peering in the nearest window, we stare at the scene before us. Blood decorates the walls and floor of the pub.
We spot Simon lying on the bar, his head facing the door, eyes open wide in terror. Ropes have been wrapped tightly around him, holding him down, preventing him from rolling off.
A tube inserted into his side is draining him of his blood; the tube I notice, leads to the bathrooms, if I remember correctly. Tears flow down his bruised face as he cries helplessly, unable to save himself.
A shudder ripples through him, as his eyes stray to a decapitated head in front of him. I look at the head and gasp in shock as I recognize the quiet witch from the cave, and my grandmother’s shop.
Bloody hell, what was her name? Peter Rabbit…Beatrix something or other. Crap, I’d begun to think she was the killer; after all she kept turning up everywhere. I feel guilty of suspecting her, even if only slightly, but to be honest she did fit the profile.
Glancing at Victor, I reach for his hand and squeeze it gently. The look of anger in his eyes is frightening, yet I’m not afraid. I understand it completely, I feel just as furious. I twirl one finger around, raising an eyebrow in enquiry. Giving me a puzzled look, Victor realizes I’m asking if he wants us to continue to look around.
With a nod of agreement we separate, circling the building. Every window I come across I peek in, but apart from finding the staff’s bodies, there’s nothing else to see. At my final window, I spot Victor glancing in a window opposite, and wave at him in warning. A cloaked figure is approaching him from behind.
He turns, just as the figure whacks him, knocking him unconscious. Staring helplessly, I quickly duck, covering my mouth as I stifle a sob. Anger floods me. A second later peeking once again, I see the cloaked figure drag Victor’s unconscious body to the front door.
Quickly I hurry back to the bathroom window. Jimmying it open, I heft myself up straddling it before slipping silently inside. Listening, I creep toward the door, pausing as I hear Simon crying.
Pushing the door open a crack, I gasp in shock then anger, as the cloaked killer strips Victor’s shirt from his body, running her hands over his muscled torso. No way in hell is this bitch getting away with touching my man.
Flinging open the door, I step in to face the
woman underneath the cloak. At my sudden entrance, she falls back in shock, dropping Victor. His head bounces off the floor at the sudden impact.
“Get away from him!” I growl.
Clambering to her feet, the cloaked witch throws her cloak back dramatically, showing me her face. I stare in puzzlement at the waitress from The Olive Tree.
“Why?” I demand.
“Why? How can you ask me why? It should be obvious, especially to you. The question is, how can you associate yourself with the likes of him?” Sally Jensen demands as she curls her lip in disgust. “Filthy whore, you will be next, once I’ve taken care of him,” Sally cackles.
“Behind you,” gasps Simon in warning, as slim feminine arms wrap around me, clamping my arms to my sides with surprising strength.
“Hold her, and make sure she watches while I take care of her lover,” sniggers Sally. I struggle to free myself, slamming my head back into my assailant. As my head impacts with hers, her arms loosen enough for me to break her hold. Quick as lightning I twirl around, recognizing the waitress from Hal’s.
Shooting electricity from my fingers, I electrocute her. Her body shakes and hums before collapsing in a heap. Growling, I turn back to Sally, as she hits me with a binding spell, trapping my magick and preventing me using it. This explains how she is able to kill other witches. My eyes widen in mimicry of fear, as she pulls me magically toward her.
“Stupid witch, you’re helpless, and now you will watch as I take care of him.” She gloats pointing at Victor who’s waking up.
“If I was only just a witch, you would be so right,” I calmly reply getting her attention. I pounce, shapeshifting into a wolf, ripping her throat out mid scream.
Victor is gaping at me, with a stupid but quite endearing smile, as the front door bangs open. Kheda, Jasmine and some officers pile into the pub. Padding over to Victor, I give his face a lick and plop down beside him as he scratches behind my ears, making me wiggle in satisfaction and give a happy tail thump. Jasmine and Kheda hurry toward us.
“Where’s Candi, and who’s this?” Kheda asks as he eyes me in confusion. It’s only when he looks at me again, a gasp of shock escapes from him, as he recognizes my laughing eyes. In the split second it takes to draw in a breath, I transform from wolf to witch, with Kheda gaping in shock, his jaw hanging loose.
Chapter 23
Kheda finally stops gaping at me, to untie Simon. The EMTs carefully take him off the counter and onto a stretcher, rushing him to the hospital.
Victor informs the officers he has security cameras. Except for an officer standing guard over the unconscious Savannah, we all pile into his office to watch the recording.
Savannah wakes with her arms handcuffed behind her. She tries playing the victim; with her broken bloody nose, she looks the part, I grudgingly admit.
“What, what’s going on?” she stammers, forcing out a couple of tears for the added benefit of the officers, superstitiously looking around. “Why am I handcuffed? I don’t understand, I was attacked,” Savannah sobs. Spotting me she starts screaming hysterically, “It was her. She attacked me. I was just minding my own business, when she came in and…oh it was so horrible,” Savannah cries.
Blimey, if I didn’t know for a fact she was speaking the biggest load of bull crap I have ever heard, I would believe her! Seeing an officer move toward me, I roll my eyes in disgust. “Did you not just watch the security video?” I demand, to which the officer has the grace to flush in embarrassment and step away.
“What security video?” Savannah demands, all pretenses of tears vanishing as she looks around at the grim-faced officers. For a second she gives up, sagging forward in defeat.
“The one clearly showing you and Sally, entering the bar and brutally murdering and torturing all these people,” Kheda informs her in satisfaction.
Furiously, Savannah glares at Victor as if this is entirely his fault.
“Security cameras, really? It’s a pub, why are security cameras necessary?” Savannah shrieks, as she unsuccessfully tries to clamber to her feet.
“Well, apparently they are necessary,” drawls Victor as he looks at the death and destruction in his bar, before turning his furious gaze back on Savannah.
“I take protecting my staff and customers very seriously, and obviously I was right in having them, or you would have probably gotten away with these murders judging by your excellent acting skills.”
****
During this conversation, I sit on a bar stool staring in disgust at Savannah. My eyes keep skittering toward Beatrix’s decapitated head. With an exhausted huff, I shift, almost falling off the stool before righting myself to settle more firmly. Again I exhale noisily, as my brain sluggishly processes everything around me. Once more my eyes are drawn to Beatrix’s head. A perplexing frustration settles over me as I find myself staring yet again at it, with a further sigh I give in, going to it for a better look. Crouching down I cock my head, studying it, the more I study it, the more puzzled I become.
“What the hell are you doing?” demands Nina as she stares at me in puzzlement.
As realization dawns on me I give the head a poke, watching it as it topples over. Numbers counting down flash at me. Someone screams at me. My face blanches, and I scream at everyone to get out as I fall on my ass.
“Leave the head alone, you sick bitch,” a young officer screams at me in anger.
Scrambling to my feet I shout again, “Get the fuck out. It’s a bomb, for crying out loud.” Finally my words sink into some of their heads. Victor grabs me rushing us outside, with Kheda and Jasmine on our heels. We hear Nina screaming “Bomb,” and everyone starts running for the exit. We reach the road’s edge when the bomb explodes. Fire and debris rain down around us as we rush out of harm’s way, before turning to stare in shock at the fiery ruins of Victor’s bar.
“I’m so sorry, Victor.” Staring at his pub in horror, I squeeze his hand that’s linked with mine.
“It’s just a building. Thankfully, we all got out. How did you know?”
“What?”
“How did you know there was something wrong with the head?” Victor repeats curiously.
“I couldn’t remember seeing her in the pub before Savannah and Sally came in on your security tape, yet her head was there. I kept remembering how Simon had kept staring at the head in fear. I had assumed it was because, well, a decapitated head was staring at him, but the body parts weren’t adding up either, and I just had a feeling all was not right with the world.
“I couldn’t stop looking at the head, so I had a proper look, and the rest is history,” I finish as I nod toward the destroyed burning pub.
Kheda, Nina, and some other detectives and officers had listened to my answer. I saw the instant their brains realized my observations had been correct. None of them remembered seeing Beatrix, with or without a body, before her head was on the floor!
We hear the fire engines zooming through the streets, their sirens blaring. I wonder if one of the officers had phoned them, or if it was the loud boom of the bomb going off which had attracted them. In the scramble out of the bar, I hadn’t noticed.
With a groan of exhaustion, I sit heavily on the ground, leaning my body into Victor’s muscular legs. The officers decide to hustle us to the police station, to book Savannah and take our statements for both the murder of Ben, Evelyn’s disappearance, and how we knew to get to the bar and what happened. Thankfully, Victor had passed over the security tape. Victor picks me gently off the ground, and I wrap my arms around his neck, before snuggling into him.
Feeling the gentlest of kisses brush across my forehead, I close my eyes, just to rest them for a minute. I’d only just closed my eyes when I’m getting told to wake up. Grumbling unhappily, I open my eyes to inform the annoying person I’m not asleep, when I notice we’re at the police station. Huh, when did that happen? One by one, we’re dragged in to a little room to be grilled.
“Why were you looking for Sally and Vincent?”
demands the questioning officer. What did he say his name was again?
“Because there was a murderer on the loose, and after the scene caused in Cynthia’s Café, we thought it best to make sure they were okay,” I reply as I try to remember who the officer is.
“What happened to Ben Sherman?”
“He was murdered, and brought back to life by a necromancer. Look I’ve already answered your questions, and I am tired, so unless you have a new question to ask me, not just the same question asked in a different way, I’m going home,” I inform the officer in annoyance. He has been questioning me for almost two hours and I’m ready to drop. I’m not sure if exhaustion or hunger will claim me first.
“How did you turn into a wolf?”
Looking at the officer, I give a snort of derision. So we’re finally coming to what he really wants to know. Leaning forward, I look him straight in the eyes and continue staring until he starts fidgeting nervously. I let a smile twist my lips. “How do you think I turned into a wolf, officer? You obviously believe you know the answer.”
“I think you’re the one from the prophecy. My grandfather told me about it, and I think it’s you he was telling me about,” the officer whispers. His eyes hold a well of curiosity, excitement, and some doubt.
“If you have nothing else to ask me pertaining to the case, I’m leaving,” I repeat, as I eye him thoughtfully. “What did you say your name was again?”
“My name is Officer Jesse James, Miss Reynolds, but you can call me Jesse.”
A smile slips across my face before I can prevent it. “You can call me Candi, Jesse,” I reply as I head toward the door.
“Wait, Candi. If you think of anything else, please call me.” He passes his card to me while showing me out.
Double Magick in the Falls Page 19