by Helen Harper
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 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 anyone 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.
Then the door closed and Winter and I were alone.
Chapter Two
For several seconds after the Ipsissimus left, neither of us said anything. The silence lengthened, filling the atmosphere with a heavy, uncomfortable feeling.
‘How have you been?’ Winter asked eventually.
‘Good.’ I hesitated. ‘You?’
‘Good.’
There was more awkward silence. I scratched my neck and sighed. This could be going better. ‘How’s Princess Parma Periwinkle?’ I asked, referring to Winter’s daftly named familiar.
‘Fine. Although she will be staying behind in Oxford for the duration of this investigation. She doesn’t travel well.’
‘Mmm.’ I racked my brains for something else to say. ‘Have you changed jobs?’ I enquired finally. Winter’s brow furrowed. ‘You used to deal with stolen property. Murder seems an entirely different proposition.’
He raised his shoulders in a vague shrug. ‘I was reassigned. Obviously I’m still in Arcane Branch but, given that our assignment together involved the death of an Adeptus Exemptus and we managed to solve the case…’
‘…then,’ I finished for him, ‘your superiors have seen your abilities and granted you an even more prestigious position.’ He nodded while I arched an eyebrow. ‘Are you being groomed for Department Head?’ To be in charge of Arcane Branch was to enjoy heady heights indeed.
Winter tapped his foot. ‘There are many talented witches in Arcane Branch. And it doesn’t look like Magus Phelps is retiring any time soon. I’m still only Second Level, Ivy.’
‘Plenty of Department Heads are Second Level.’
‘Not Arcane Branch.’
I pursed my lips. ‘So you’re looking to move up to Third Level?’ It was the highest any witch could go. I had no doubt that Winter would achieve it sooner or later, regardless of his relatively young age.
‘Are you suggesting that I shouldn’t?’ His tone was cool. ‘Ambition isn’t a disease, you know.’
I held up my hands. ‘Heavens forbid I would think such a thing. I think you’d be a good Department Head, Rafe.’ I used his first name deliberately just to see how he’d react. There was nothing more than a faint flicker in his eyes. ‘And I’m sure your skills are more than up to the task.’ He watched me as if he thought I were somehow taking the piss.
Unsure how we’d reached this point, I half grimaced. ‘Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?’
‘Do you have tequila?’ There was an odd note in his voice. I hardly needed reminding that tequila was what we’d both been drinking before we ended up in bed together.
I sucked in a breath. ‘I don’t have any. But I can go out and get some if you…’
He forestalled me. ‘It was a joke, Ivy. I’m fine.’
I laughed unconvincingly.
Winter sat back down on the same chair, took out a manila folder and opened it up. ‘Despite the production company’s recalcitrance,’ he said formally, ‘we have managed to procure you a position via one of the recruitment agencies they use. You will be working for them for the duration of filming.’
The thought of being on set for Enchantment was almost enough to make me forget the strange awkwardness between us. I had sudden visions of operating a camera or snapping a clapboard and yelling ‘Action!’ It might be work but it also sounded fun.
I grinned in delight and shook out my hair. ‘I’m ready for my close-up, Mr de Winter.’
He gave me a blank look. ‘You will be a runner with duties involving—’
Whoa. Hold on a minute. I interrupted him. ‘What did you say?’
‘You’ll be a runner.’
My shoulders slumped. ‘That was what I thought I heard.’ I shook my head. ‘I don’t think myself and running go together.’ I raised my eyebrows pointedly. ‘You should know that.’
Winter sighed. ‘You won’t actually be running. It’s an entry-level position, which is all we could get you with your lack of experience. You’ll mostly be completing errands for the crew. It works out very well because it means you’ll have plenty of reasons to be in all sorts of places. You can get to know everyone on set and you’ll be well placed to discover any anomalies.’
‘I’m afraid I’m still focused on the word runner.’
‘Ivy…’
‘What?’
He pressed his lips into a line. ‘You’ll be fine.’
I wasn’t so sure of that. ‘There must be something else I could do.’
‘There’s not.’ He checked the sheet in front of him. ‘You will report each morning at 5am.’ I began to splutter but Winter completely ignored me and carried on. ‘Your contracted hours will run until 6pm.’
‘That’s thirteen hours!’
‘You get a break for lunch,’ he informed me, as if that made all the difference.
‘Thirteen, Winter! I know you don’t believe in superstitions but come on! You need to get that changed.’
‘You can finish at 7pm if you prefer. Sometimes there will be night shoots so you may well be expected to stay for longer.’