A tall, broad-shouldered figure came into view. “Blondie?”
“Say what?” The blond policeman grinned.
“Oops. I was just excited to get a visitor I didn’t hate. Sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“How remiss of me. I’m Beren. Pleased to formally meet you, Lily.”
“Likewise. I’m almost scared to ask why you’re here. Nothing seems to be going the right way today. Well, ever since Sunday, really.”
“You have a knack for being in the middle of trouble.”
“Hey, I didn’t ask for any of this. It’s the PIB’s crappy employment procedures. I have nothing to with any of this, except as an innocent bystander.”
“Shouldn’t you be bystanding more and participating less?” He laughed.
“Believe me. I’m trying. So, have you come bearing good or bad tidings?”
“A bit of both, actually. How would you like to get out of here?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
He put a key in the lock and turned it. Click. He pushed the door open and swept his arm towards the hall. “Welcome back to the free world, Lily.”
Sweet relief swept through me like a tsunami. Tears came unbidden as I stepped out of my cell.
“Are you okay?” Beren took one look at my face and enveloped me in a hug. Ooh, this was nice. Maybe my hug aversion didn’t extend to attractive men with firm chests. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so safe. I snuggled in closer. Who was this wanton woman? Why was I suddenly hungry? Oh, that was wontons. One of these days I would stop being distracted by my stupid brain.
I sniffed. Would Beren be grossed out at having someone else’s snot on his top? I leaned back. “I’ll be okay. Thanks.” He dropped his arms. No more warmth. Bummer. “So how come I’m getting out.”
“Will sent me down here to get you. He’s waiting outside in the car. Angelica’s still in discussions with Mr Pembleton, trying to get Millicent out. They’ve agreed you can leave on the proviso that you stay inside Angelica’s house until the case is solved. They don’t trust you or your relationship with Millicent, hence the home detention until everything’s sorted.”
“So, they proved those messages were planted?”
“Yes.”
“But they still think she could be guilty?”
“I can’t comment any further, Lily. Sorry.”
I followed him through the door. Argh, the bright lights, they burn. I squinted until my eyes adjusted to the change. “Can I see Millicent before we go? I want to make sure she’s okay.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. The boss is out for blood. The sooner you get out of here, the better. He may decide to put you back in the cell.” Beren walked quickly to the lift. We went up a level—the cells were situated on a below-ground level, extra secure I supposed. We reached the ground floor, and he signed me out.
Once we were outside, I took a proper breath for the first time since this morning. The blessedly big sky stretched out in darkness above me, multiple universes worth of space. I wasn’t claustrophobic, but contemplating life in a small cell could make anyone antsy. I grinned.
A black Range Rover pulled up next to us. Beren opened the rear passenger door. “Your chariot, my lady.”
“Why thank you, sir knight.” I stepped in as lady-like as I could, which wasn’t easy since it was quite high off the ground. He shut the door behind me. The luxurious scent of leather and something primal and woodsy hit me. I breathed in, appreciating the lack of urinal tones.
Nice ride. Shame about the driver. William eyed me through the rear-view mirror. I put my belt on and folded my arms.
Beren jumped in next to William. “Hey, man. Ready to roll? Let’s get this lovely lady out of here.”
William grunted. He put the car into drive and headed for the main gates. If I never saw this place again, it wouldn’t be too soon. As much as talking to him chafed like my thighs in summer, I needed to know the latest. “How’d Angelica manage to get me out?” I wasn’t giving him any credit if I could help it.
“We went back to her place, got into your iPad, and when we started Skype, it updated everything that was on your phone… except that conversation. I’m sorry I was so hard on you earlier. You were telling the truth, and I didn’t want to believe it.” He looked annoyed, but whether it was with me or himself, I couldn't tell.
“Apology accepted.” I was stubborn, but if someone made peace, I wasn’t a grudge holder. “How come you didn’t want to believe me? Do you think you have a sixth sense for compulsive liars or something?”
Beren laughed. “It’s the fact that he has no idea. It’s hard to trust most people in this line of business. But poor, old Willy has been burned off the job too, so he just doesn’t trust anyone.”
“Shut it, Beren.”
“Aw, poor Willy’s upset. Want Beren to kiss it better?” Beren made kissy noises. I laughed. William looked angry enough to punch him. And he did. Whomp. A jab to the ribs. Beren grunted.
Ouch. Maybe I did have my mother’s psychic abilities. Or maybe it’s what I would have done.
“Why is Millicent still locked up, and why is Angelica arguing with your boss if everything’s been sorted?”
We exited the gates, William put his indicator on, and we turned right. “Because it hasn’t all been sorted. Some lab reports came back today, and they’ve found a piece of jewellery after sifting through the dirt they dug up from the crime scene. It’s Millicent’s necklace. We’re not sure how it got there, but Snezana hasn’t touched that evidence, so we know she couldn’t have planted it.”
“Is the lab in-house?” I asked.
“Yes,” William answered. “Why?”
“Maybe she has a friend down there. Have you asked Millicent any questions about her necklace yet? Like when was the last time she saw it.”
Beren nodded. “Nice thinking, Lily. Maybe you should come work with us.”
“Ew, no thanks.” I realised how that sounded. “I mean, not because of working with you. That would probably be something I could endure.” I smirked. Beren laughed, but William stuck with his on-the-verge-of-being-angry face. He probably kept that one on because he was likely to need to get his angry face on at any moment. “I don’t like big organisations, especially not government ones. There’s always some lazy bastard who takes credit for your work, not to mention Snezana.”
“She’s not so bad,” said Beren.
“Yeah, if you like psychopaths. No thanks.”
Beren made some cat yowling and hissing sounds and raked the air with his imaginary claws.
So original. “You’ll see, Mr Hilarious. So, when are you guys going to watch the lab security videos?”
They shared a quick glance, and then William looked back at the road. “We’re not. We’d need a warrant. We can’t just spy on our guys whenever we want. And where’s the evidence, Lily? All you have is a hunch, if I’m not mistaken. We all want to find your brother, but going around like a bull in a china shop is not going to help.”
“Gah, that’s the other reason I couldn’t work for the PIB; your processes suck. I’d be eternally frustrated. So, once I’m at Angelica’s, I won’t be able to go anywhere, not even Costa?”
William’s gaze met mine in the rear-view mirror. “No. You can’t even go into Angelica’s garden. We’ll set an alarm ward which will alert us if you step foot outside the door.”
God, those eyes were something else. Why did he have to be such an annoying cranky pants? “What happens if I do it anyway?”
Beren laughed. “You do not want to do that, Lily. Our officers and agents have permission to shoot first and ask questions later—when you’re dealing with witches, there’s not telling what’s going to happen. William and I aren’t on duty twenty-four-seven. Anyone could be assigned to guard you. You can’t risk it. Please don’t.”
I heavy sighed. “Okay.” As far as I could see, the only person who could bring Snezana to justice was me, and
I didn’t mean that in an arrogant way. I was the only one who didn’t have their hands tied, and I knew more than they did about the sort of person she was. I needed to get back to the park and take those photos. There was a way. I just had to find it.
Every now and then, I’d feel the heat of William’s gaze on me. Stupid rear-view mirror. I couldn’t meet his eyes—they did things to me, things I didn’t want. Being attracted to someone who hated you was not a good look, plus I didn’t like him as a person. How screwed up was that? Bloody idiot hormones. If I could just ignore him for long enough, this whole ordeal would be over, and I’d be back home, far, far away from him.
We finally pulled into Angelica’s driveway. The lights were on in her house. Beren opened the car door for me. Such a gentleman. “Thanks.” Angelica opened the front door and came out to meet us.
How did she get home so quickly? “Ma’am, what are you doing home already? Weren’t you in with the boss when we left?”
She shuddered. “Yes, no thanks for the reminder. That man has a bee in his bonnet. Snezana’s his niece. He didn’t appreciate me insinuating she hadn’t vetted evidence properly.”
Whoa! So that was how she got the job. Why was I surprised? I looked at William. His raised eyebrow and smirk smacked of an I told you so. I stuck my tongue out at him. The way he narrowed his eyes at me was more steamy than angry. Oh my. Time to go inside before I did something to embarrass myself. That escalated quickly, unless I was just misinterpreting his facial expressions, which was likely. What was wrong with me? This was neither the time nor the place. Maybe Snezana had put a spell on me, to keep me occupied with other things rather than putting her arse in jail. You tell yourself that, Lily.
“But how did you get home before us?”
“I travelled.” Huh? “Witches can pop from one place to another. Come inside where it’s warmer, and I’ll explain it to you. Boys, thanks for bringing Lily home. You can set the wards once we’re inside. And can you duck over to Millicent’s and feed the dogs?”
“Will do, Ma’am,” they answered simultaneously.
It was so good to be back. Funny how I’d only set foot inside this place for the first time yesterday and it was already beginning to feel like home. I ran to the fire in the living room and stuck my hands out to warm them. I could get used to this. Angelica came and stood beside me. “So, do you still want to know about travelling?”
“Yes please, if you don’t mind explaining it.”
“I would love to. I meant what I said the day I met you. I’m here to be your teacher, your mentor. I’m sorry I haven’t kept you safe, but you've come to us at the worst possible time. James’s kidnapping has all the hallmarks of a revenge attack. We thought we knew the gang who’d done it, but it seems as if the more we find, the less we know. As much as I don’t want you in danger, you’ve been a big help. You’ve brought things to my attention I was conditioned to not see.”
“You mean—”
“Yes. Now, about travelling. Witches have the ability to open a doorway or tunnel, if you will, to another place. Depending on how good one is at making the doorways, you’ll move from one location in one step or many metres, hence the tunnel comparison. All witches have a room in their house called the reception room. Historians always think they’re to receive guests the normal way, but witches created them. When I come home, I can only arrive in that room. Each witch will set up a spell containing the coordinates of that specific room, but there needs to be a receiving spell for anyone to pop in there. Most witches keep their reception room locked, sort of like a front door, since your friends, or enemies, could pop in at any time if they know the coordinates. That’s why it’s good not to give them out to people you don’t know very well.”
“Can witches travel to places other than people’s houses?” This was interesting. Imagine all the travelling time I could save for work.
“Yes.”
“And?”
She looked sheepish then she laughed. “I don't know why I still find this embarrassing. It’s silly really. Public toilets. Not all public toilets, but we’ve spelled enough of them that we have a fairly wide network of drop-spots. You’ll notice in the United Kingdom that there’s usually a locked toilet that has an Out of Order sign. That’s spelled to be there. We keep a cubicle free for emergencies of the travelling kind.”
I snorted. “That’s gross! Why toilets?”
“There’s a lot of them.” She shrugged. “I didn’t make it up. Don’t blame me.” Still grinning, she shook her head. “Yes, it’s gross.”
“Is travelling easy?”
“No. And now isn’t the time to teach you. You’ll set the alarm off and have all of the PIB out looking for you. You need to stay here and wait this thing out. I promise I’m doing all I can to get things going in the right direction.”
May as well try and learn all I could while I was cooped up here, at least until I managed to escape. “Can you teach me how to figure out if someone’s spelled something?”
“Yes, I can. Figuring out who the magic belongs to is quite difficult, but recognising magic is one of the things all witches learn early on. Have you ever felt anything when a witch is casting a spell?”
“Yes, when you or that other person used magic on me, I felt a tingle wherever the magic went—so, on my hands or head. Sometimes it’s warmth as well.”
“Very good. When a witch casts a spell, they’re using their energy on it, and that leaves an imprint. The first thing to look for is how it makes your skin feel. That overt tingling or warmth won’t be there—it will be subtler, and it fades with time. So if I do something like”—she picked up a small, white-and-black ceramic bird—“and do this.” She mumbled, and the bird morphed into a living creature. It puffed its feathers out before shaking and settling. It preened itself, seemingly indifferent to us. “Touch it, and think about your connection to the power. Be one with nature, with the universe. Feel the energy surrounding the bird.”
I slowly and gently placed my fingers on the bird’s back and shut my eyes. Its smooth feathers radiated warmth. It really was alive. I pushed away the part of me that was having trouble believing it, because I needed to focus.
The fire crackled. I breathed in, the sharp tang of smoke filling my nose. I concentrated on my feet, on their connection to the floor, then on the fragile creature beneath my hand. Soft humming, two different tones, filled my senses, more vibration than sound. One was a delicate oscillation that filled my mind with the joy of flying, cool wind in my face, wings outstretched in a timeless act of defiance—what was gravity to a bird? The other fainter resonance was deeper, heavier, dark earth and boundless sky, fear and joy and everything in between. I grinned. I was actually doing this!
Now I had to find Angelica’s magic. I imagined sinking deeper into the stream of the bird’s life essence. The image of a bright golden thread of light appeared in my mind. I opened my eyes. It was visible, overlaying the bird in a tangle. I leaned closer and followed the path the maze of light took. A pattern emerged. I had no idea what it meant, but at least I could see it.
Angelica smiled and said quietly, “Shut your eyes again and concentrate on making the image larger. We use this to focus on the pattern within the pattern. The pattern of light can tell us what the spell was, but it’s on the thread itself, you’ll find evidence of the witch who cast it—it’s like a fingerprint. We have a database of magical fingerprints at PIB.”
I shut my eyes and zoomed in, making one section of thread really big, like it was under a microscope. Symbol after symbol, lines, curves, intricate and simple covered the light’s surface. Wow! Was it another language, a kind of hieroglyphic system? Whatever it was, it was stunning, prettier than a night sky flooded with stars.
I opened my eyes and grinned. I wanted to tell Angelica how incredible it all was, but, for the first time ever, I was lost for words in a good way.
She laughed. “I know. I remember my first time, and I still feel that way sometimes
. Not every thread is golden, and some leave you wanting a shower rather than fill you with joy, but this is where we start. And did you notice two streams of energy?”
I nodded.
“One is the bird’s, which you would know from what it felt like, but the other is life itself, the river of energy which is always there and always will be. It’s the heart and soul of our power. Now, let’s put this sweet creature back to sleep.” She simply said, “Finito,” and the bird’s velvety feathers changed to porcelain, although it was still warm.
I breathed deeply and let it out in a whoosh. “That was something else. Thank you.”
“My pleasure. But you don’t have to thank me, Lily. It’s your heritage and the right of passage of every witch. To become your best self, you’ll have to learn everything I can teach you about our power, and who knows, maybe you’ll discover things to teach me.”
“Um, yep. Don’t hold your breath. I’m so far from that, it’s not even funny.”
“You’ll get there. I’m sure of it. Now, let’s think about getting to bed.”
“It’s definitely been a long day. What time is it?”
Angelica looked at her watch—yes, a watch. Not many people wore them anymore on account of phones and computers having the time, but Angelica was coolly old school. “2:00 a.m. Time for bed. I’ll see you in the morning. And do not leave the house. I don’t want to wake up and find you dead on the driveway.”
I laughed, even though she probably wasn’t joking. It was annoying being a stress-laugher. People thought I was making light of something when I was just coping. “I didn’t realise you cared.” If I was honest with myself, I didn’t know what Angelica thought of me. One minute she was cold and cranky, the next, she was gentle and nurturing.
Her answer was a small smile. “Off to bed. If I’m not here when you wake up, there’s breakfast stuff in the fridge. Good night.”
“Night.” I grabbed clean underwear and my pyjamas from my bag—I hadn’t had time to unpack yet—and headed for the shower. My happiness at sleeping in a non-government-issue bed tonight was tempered by the knowledge that Millicent didn’t get that luxury. James was God knew where, and his poor wife not only had to worry about him, but she was in jail for something she didn’t do.
Witchnapped in Westerham (Paranormal Investigation Bureau Book 1) Page 11