by Helen Harper
‘No hope?’ he enquired.
I shrank into myself. ‘I’m the Global Phantom Solutions and Assurance Strategist. The only one in the world. I should be finding solutions and assuring ghosts that I have a strategy.’
Grenville raised an eyebrow. ‘Go on then.’
Er… I gazed at him beseechingly. ‘Can you…’
He folded his arms. ‘No.’
Drat.
Something white and small caught my eye as it drifted down from the sky. ‘Look!’ I shrieked, in a voice high-pitched enough to catch the attention of the squabbling ghosts. ‘Snow!’
There was a moment’s silence. I knew I didn’t have long before their fighting started again. I racked my brains. Then, before I knew it, my mouth was opening once again. ‘Away in a manger,’ I sang. ‘No crib for a bed.’
Every single ghost stared at me. I nudged Grenville to encourage him to join in but he was too astonished to do more than gape.
‘Is that daft girl singing now?’ I heard one ghost mutter.
I waved my arms around with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. ‘It’s Christmas! Get into the spirit, you spirits!’
‘Bah humbug.’
‘It’s not Christmas, you know. Christmas doesn’t begin until December 24th. Honestly, it gets earlier and earlier every year.’
The grumbling was getting louder again. I spotted Abigail appearing from around one of the buildings, leapt down from the bench and dashed towards her. ‘Anything?’ I asked. ‘Any clues? Any sign of the Angel?’
She shook her head miserably. ‘No, there’s nothing. But…’
I felt a flare of hope. ‘But what?’
She squinted. ‘Were you just standing on a bench and serenading yourself with a Christmas carol?’
Behind me I could hear Grenville laughing. ‘It’s a long story,’ I said shortly. ‘Come on, let’s get out of the cold.’
I left Grenville to his band of moaning ghosties. If I succumbed to whichever curse decided to rear its ugly head first and died horribly, they’d really have something to complain about. Of course, knowing the way my luck was going, I’d also be cursed so that I’d end up joining them and then I’d have the rest of eternity to hear their complaints. Excellent. I wouldn’t even get peace in the grave.
Merry sodding Christmas.
Chapter Eight
Winter came up behind me and wrapped his arms round my waist. I inhaled deeply, enjoying both the feel of his body against mine and his musky, male scent. Outside, the flakes of snow continued to swirl downwards.
‘Maybe,’ I said, ‘the snow is a good thing. There will be so much of it that it will extinguish any lava that comes spouting out of Oxford’s brand-spanking-new volcano which is going to appear under our feet any second now.’
Winter chuckled softly. ‘You don’t really believe that’s going to happen, do you? The volcano, I mean. The Angel could have been stolen months ago and yet there have been no ill effects whatsoever. Besides, chances are it’s only been misplaced. It’ll turn up in March in some forgotten corner. You really shouldn’t worry about it.’
I was silent for a moment. It didn’t bother me that Winter wasn’t superstitious but surely he knew that curses couldn’t be dismissed out of hand. ‘Maybe it will just turn up,’ I said. ‘But maybe it won’t. You know how many ghosts are in the queue to pass on because they’ve been cursed and are trapped here. There’s power in curses. Extraordinary power. We’ve searched and searched and the Angel is nowhere to be found. It might have been one of your witchy geek enemies who took it. It might have been someone who didn’t know any better. It might just have been lost by sheer accident. But whatever’s happened to it, we can’t pretend that its absence isn’t dangerous. I’ve already sent Abigail and the rest of the Neophytes home just in case – but what happens next is anyone’s guess.’
He pressed his lips to my neck. ‘Whatever comes to pass,’ he murmured, ‘I’m sure we can work it out. We always do. Between us, we’ll find a way.’
I loved his optimism. I just hoped it wasn’t misplaced.
Winter’s hand reached under my jumper, gently caressing my skin. ‘The snow might be good for other reasons,’ he purred. ‘We’ll get snowed in. We’ll be forced to stay here together with only our body heat to keep each other warm. We’ll be trapped here for days.’ His hand moved further up, his fingers grazing against my ribcage. ‘Just the two of us. No witches, no Order, no Angels, no curses…’
Princess Parma Periwinkle strolled in and deposited herself in front of the open fireplace before performing some extraordinary contortion so that she could reach her bottom with her tongue.
‘Sure. Just me, you and two grumpy cats,’ I said with a grin.
‘They like each other really.’ He paused. ‘Where is Brutus anyway?’
‘Last I saw, he almost brought down the Christmas tree on top of our heads. And there’s an entire salmon missing from the cafeteria, which is probably down to him. I wouldn’t put it past him.’
Winter snorted. ‘I thought he’d have ventured back home by now. I wouldn’t have imagined snow would be his thing.’
I snuggled further back against him. ‘It’s not. Last winter he positioned himself by the radiator and didn’t move for three months – and there wasn’t even any snow. Just some frost.’
‘He didn’t move from the radiator? Not even for fooooood?’ Winter teased.
I smiled. Then my insides froze with a nausea-inducing epiphany and I yanked myself away, throwing my hands up. ‘Goddammit!’
He blinked at me. ‘What is it?’
‘Brutus,’ I snarled. ‘Brutus took the Angel.’
‘Huh?’
‘I just said it – he hates the cold. Plus, he was hanging around the tree when Abigail and the others were putting up the decorations. He had ample opportunity. The locator spells used to search for the apparent thief wouldn’t have picked him up because he’s not human. And I definitely saw him scampering off with another decoration in his mouth.’ I stomped over and grabbed my coat, shrugging it onto my tense body.
Winter watched me. ‘That’s just circumstantial. I can’t see why Brutus would steal a silver angel.’
‘Why does Brutus do anything?’ I grimaced. ‘There was a clump of something icky in the bottom of the box the Angel was kept in.’
‘I thought no one could work out what it was.’
‘We couldn’t.’ I cursed. ‘But I bet it was a damned pile of dried cat sick.’ I stalked over to the door, narrowly avoiding treading on Princess Parma Periwinkle’s tail. Everything was falling into place, apart from the motive.
‘Do you know where he is?’ I demanded, glaring down at Winter’s familiar.
As if in answer she made a run for it, abandoning the fire’s heat in favour of skidding under the sofa. So be it. I flung open the door and stomped out.
‘You’re still wearing your slippers!’ Winter called out before catching me up.
‘I don’t care. I’m on a mission. I’m going to strangle that dratted cat.’
‘How are you even going to find him?’
‘I will find him if it takes me all night. He’s taken the Angel, I know he has. Clearly, he’s been playing the long game and has been planning to bring down the Order from the beginning. He’s hated me all along. He has a better vocabulary than I do but he’ll barely use five words when he speaks to me. The only reason he’s probably not shown his true colours until now is because he was waiting until he could bring down all witches, not just me. How do I know my cat is plotting to kill me? His damn name is Brutus and he’ll stab me in the back the second I’m not looking.’
I heaved in a ragged breath and picked up speed, scanning the ground for paw prints or any sign of Brutus in the snow.
‘I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation…’
Winter’s words barely registered. ‘How do you fancy roast cat for Christmas dinner this year instead of turkey?’
‘Ivy…�
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Just then I caught something flashing past from the corner of my eye. ‘There!’ I spun round, my slippers sliding on a patch of ice as I did so. I almost went flying onto my arse with my legs and arms akimbo but Winter caught me just in time. I grunted out a thank you before heading after what I was sure was Brutus.
I ducked under a snow-laden bush and squeezed along a tiny path between two of the Order buildings. Not only was my own familiar responsible for all this crap but he was making me act like some kind of chubby Indiana Jones. Muttering and huffing, while I was sure Winter was trying not to chuckle behind me, I pressed on. There was a definitely a trail of paw prints to follow.
I squeezed out of the narrow gap at the end of the alley, my eyes scanning the trail. The feline prints led to a small lean-to shed, barely noticeable against the clump of trees which hugged the wall of what I belatedly realised was where the small Department of Familiars was housed. Brutus was clearly trying to be ironic.
Exhaling a cloud of angry breath, I had only taken three steps forward when the blasted cat himself appeared, snaking out from under a gap in the little shed’s wooden door. He turned his implacable yellow gaze in my direction and sat down, giving his ears a wash.
‘You freaking feline!’ I yelled. ‘You’re the one who took the damned Angel. Right? You bastard!’
Brutus didn’t even blink. He did, however, stop licking himself, his tail flicking in irritation from side to side. ‘Mind your language. There are children present.’
‘Don’t patronise Winter, you sodding cat burglar!’
Brutus sighed dramatically, his eyes flicking past me to where Winter was standing.
Winter frowned. ‘Hmm.’ He walked past me, past Brutus and towards the shed, then fiddled with the lock until the door opened. I watched while he put his hands in pockets and stared inside with a frown.
‘Well?’ I demanded. ‘Is the Angel of the Order there?’
For a moment, Winter didn’t answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was oddly strained. ‘I think you should come and see for yourself.’
I glanced back at Brutus. He’d stopped waving his tail and was holding himself strangely erect. Warily, I stepped past him and peered past Winter’s shoulder into the gloom of the shed.
High on a shelf the little silver statue of the Angel gleamed down at us, a peaceful benevolent expression on her frozen face. The snowflake ornament I’d seen Brutus steal was propped up next to her. ‘I knew it,’ I spat. I looked down at the floor. ‘And there’s the remnants of the cafeteria’s posh salmon.’
‘Mmm.’
‘And look. That’s my scarf. He even took my damned scarf.’ At that moment the scarf moved. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. In that moment I forgot all about the Angel. ‘Is that…?’
‘Meow.’ Two green eyes opened and gazed lazily up at me. I didn’t recognise their owner but she had the sort of sleek fur and intelligent expression that I knew Brutus went for.
Winter knelt down and gently pulled away the rest of the scarf. There, hiding underneath, were five kittens. They were all curled up asleep against their mother’s belly. They were absolutely tiny.
Something brushed against my leg. I looked down to see Brutus gazing up at me, a flicker of something akin to anxiety in his familiar yellow eyes.
‘They’re yours?’ I asked.
His whiskers quivered. ‘They are.’
‘You took the salmon to feed your…’ Girlfriend? Wife? Baby mama?
‘I did.’
‘And you took my scarf to keep them comfortable.’
‘It’s warm. It smells of you.’
Something pricked at the back of my eyes. Goodness. It must have been the cold weather getting to me.
‘And the Angel?’
‘It’s a symbol of protection.’ Brutus spoke gruffly.
‘So it is.’ I knelt down next to Winter and gazed at the litter. ‘Five kittens,’ I breathed. ‘Wow.’
He put his arm round me. ‘Merry Christmas.’
‘Are we keeping them?’
A low growl emitted from Brutus and Winter pressed his lips together as if to stop himself from laughing. ‘I suppose we are.’
I tried and failed to imagine what it would be like having five mini-me Brutuses scampering around the house. Sure, they were tiny now but they’d grow. Their eyes would open up. They’d follow me around, snuggle up to Winter and me in the evening, play with balls of string and generally be as cute as could be.
‘Merry Christmas indeed,’ I murmured back.
Just then one of the kittens stirred, wiggling around. It opened its mouth, obviously seeking its mother’s milk. ‘Food,’ it squeaked.
The ginger kitten next to it woke up. ‘Food!’
A heartbeat later all five of them were at it. ‘Food! Food! Food! Food! Fooooooooooood!’
Brutus bared his teeth in what I assumed was a proud father’s beam and Winter and I exchanged glances. ‘We’re not going to get any peace ever again,’ I whispered in horror.
He planted a big kiss onto my lips. ‘Maybe not,’ he grinned. ‘But there’ll be more than enough goodwill for all of us.’
Brutus began to purr. ‘Happy Holidays.’
There was a pause before he added with a hopeful wink, ‘Fooood?’
Thank you so much for reading Sparkle Witch! I hope you enjoyed all of Ivy’s lazy adventures. Happy Holidays to you and yours x
Turn over the page for details about my new upcoming novel, Wraith.
Helen
Magic. Shadows. Adventure. Romance.
Saiya Buchanan is a wraith, able to detach her shadow from her body and send it off to do her bidding. But, unlike most of her kin, Saiya doesn't deal in death. Instead, she trades secrets - and in the goblin besieged city of Stirling in Scotland, they're a highly prized commodity. It might just be, however, that the goblins have been hiding the greatest secret of them all. When Gabriel de Florinville, a Dark Elf, is sent as royal envoy into Stirling and takes her prisoner, Saiya is not only going to uncover the sinister truth. She's also going to realise that sometimes the deepest secrets are the ones locked within your own heart.
This is a stand-alone urban fantasy novel.
Wraith will be released on 25th February, 2018. You can pre-order your copy now.
Other titles by Helen Harper
Coming soon
Wraith
The complete Blood Destiny series
Bloodfire
Bloodmagic
Bloodrage
Blood Politics
Bloodlust
Blood Destiny Box Set (The complete series: Books 1 – 5)
Also
- Corrigan Fire
- Corrigan Magic
- Corrigan Rage
-Corrigan Politics
-Corrigan Lust
The complete Lazy Girl’s Guide To Magic series
Slouch Witch
Star Witch
Spirit Witch
Sparkle Witch (novella)
The complete Bo Blackman series
Dire Straits
New Order
High Stakes
Red Angel
Vigilante Vampire
Dark Tomorrow
The complete Highland Magicseries
Gifted Thief
Honour Bound
Veiled Threat
Last Wish
The complete Dreamweaver series
Night Shade
Night Terrors
Night Lights
Olympiana stand - alone
Eros
About the Author
After teaching English literature in the UK, Japan and Malaysia, Helen Harper left behind the world of education following the worldwide success of her Blood Destiny series of books. She is a professional member of the Alliance of Independent Authors and writes full time, thanking her lucky stars every day that's she lucky enough to do so!
Helen has always been a book lover, devouring science fictio
n and fantasy tales when she was a child growing up in Scotland.
She currently lives in Devon in the UK with far too many cats – not to mention the dragons, fairies, demons, wizards and vampires that seem to keep appearing from nowhere.
You can find out more - and learn how to get a FREE copy of Corrigan Fire - by visiting Helen's website: http://helenharper.co.uk