by Sean Stone
Dean walked downstairs whilst buttoning up his shirt. He’d slept in later than usual, but he’d had a late night. He’d been having a lot of late nights recently. His dad and his new girlfriend, Kristen Dagmar, had made the house rather unpleasant to be in so he found himself spending a lot of time at the local pub. They weren’t being horrible to Dean, if anything Kristen was going out of her way to be nice to him. The problem was she was a despicable person. Being a former member of the Thirteen, her past was littered with atrocious deeds and she did not stop going on about them. She was proud of her past and relished in retelling the stories of all the lives she’d ruined. She spoke about Nickolas Blackwood as if he was a god. She positively adored the man. Dean could not see how she could have such messed up values and not even notice that something was wrong in her head. What perplexed him more was how oblivious his father was to how evil she really was.
“She’s changing,” James had said one evening when Dean confronted him about her. “I can see her changing. She steps away from her past more and more each day.”
“That’s just what you want to see,” said Dean. “She hasn’t changed at all. But you will. The more you stay with her the more like her you’ll become.” James was also a former member of the Thirteen, though he had only joined to find a cure for lycanthropy. Nick had provided him with the closest thing to a cure — the power to control the changes. James had managed to leave Nick’s service before he ended up like Kristen.
Truth be told, James was no saint. He’d done some pretty dark stuff too. He’d sacrificed several sorcerers in order to steal their magic. James said it was because he needed the power to control the werewolf curse, but Dean suspected that really he’d gotten addicted to the rush of power as he sacrificed each sorcerer. Dean knew his father had an addictive personality. He’d already been addicted to drink and drugs in the past. James was finally doing the right thing now, though. He’d given up his vices and he was trying to do right by his family. The problem was that family now included Kristen.
Dean was about to enter the living room where he would undoubtedly hear more about Kristen’s murderous past when the doorbell rang. “Saved by the bell,” he mumbled to himself and went to answer it. He was surprised to see the young, blonde Clara Winters standing on his step, her face set in a frown. Next to her was the even younger, and more hirsute, Kegan Dyer. Their appearance could only mean that something was wrong. “What is it?” he asked resignedly.
“We’d better come in,” said Clara.
Fifteen minutes later the three of them were sitting in the living room with James and Kristen, all of them stunned to silence by Clara’s telling of what was going on in town.
“I can’t believe all this happened whilst I was sleeping,” said Dean, rubbing the back of his neck.
“A lot happens whilst you sleep. If you got up you’d miss less stuff,” James quipped.
“You were up and you still missed it,” Dean shot back, grinning nonetheless.
“Now you know, will you help?” Clara asked, cutting in. She was looking only at Dean. He understood that. James and Kristen had both been her enemies for the past few months and James had murdered her grandfather decades ago. It must have been taking a tremendous amount of restraint just to sit in the same room as them.
“What’s your plan?” he asked.
“I’m supposed to get help and then go home. My dad’s getting the Coven together.”
“But?” Dean knew there was a but. There was always a but.
“I think I should find out a bit more about what’s going on. I want to go and talk to Bradley at the town hall.”
“Which means finding a way to sneak in because we drove past on the way here and that place looks more secure than Buckingham Palace right now,” added Kegan.
“Marvellous,” said Dean.
“Why on earth would anybody here help you?” said Kristen, her voice low and filled with mocking. Dean instantly wanted to hit her in her vicious little face.
“I don’t know, because we’re all stuck in this town together,” snapped Dean, rounding on her.
“Hardly. Those of us with real power can teleport out whenever we choose,” she retorted with a sly wink.
“That’d be the cowardly thing to do,” said Dean.
“We don’t have time to argue,” said Clara. “We’re fighting for our lives here. They will kill us all.”
“I have nothing to fear. I’m immortal,” she stood up and walked lazily across the room. “James?” she said as she turned back.
James looked at Kristen then Dean. “I’ve fought to make this town safer in the past and always gone about in the wrong way. This might be my chance to do the right thing,” he said.
“Exactly,” said Dean, filling with pride for his dad.
“Is it really worth saving? You have more important things to worry about now, don’t you?” she asked. Dean wanted his dad to say no. That one little word would surely ruin their whole relationship.
“Yes, I suppose I do,” James said in defeat. He stood up to follow her.
“Dad, please,” said Dean in desperation. He wasn’t desperate to have his dad’s help, though it would make a huge difference, but he wanted his dad to side against Kristen. James looked back at Dean, his face torn.
“They can’t get to Bradley without me,” James said, as if he needed to justify himself to her. “I can teleport them in to see Bradley. They needn’t sneak past anyone.”
“Alright, but just do that and then come home. Don’t get involved in this silliness. It never works out well for them,” she pointed at Clara. Dean hated to admit that Kristen had a point. Clara had come out on the losing side more often than not, but with a powerful warlock on their side things would be different.
“I’ll come straight home,” James agreed and then Kristen finally left. It was like a storm cloud had lifted. Dean instantly felt more relaxed. “We’ll drive as close as we can to the town hall and then I’ll get us inside,” said James.
“Okay,” said Clara, a little stiffly. She probably felt the same way about James as Dean did about Kristen. Clara knew she was in no position to turn down help, though. The four of them went to Clara’s car and headed to the town hall.
Chapter 3
Fifteen minutes later they pulled up just down the road from the town hall. The entire street had been closed and was heavily guarded by at least ten soldiers, all of them armed with large rifles. Clara didn’t know enough about guns to know what sort they were, but she could tell they were deadly. Five more soldiers were stationed on the steps leading up to the town hall.
“How many do you reckon are inside?” Dean asked, his expression grave.
“Hold on,” said James and closed his eyes. He sat silently, concentrating and a few moments later his eyes flicked open again. “At least triple what’s outside.”
“Shitting hell,” Kegan murmured.
“How did you do that?” Clara asked. Jamal had taught her a fair bit when he’d been training her, but most of it had been combat spells.
“Uhm… I just sort of… reached out,” he said awkwardly.
“What do you mean? How do you reach out?” she said a little aggressively. It wasn’t as if he expected her to be polite anyway, they weren’t friends. “What did you do in your head?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said in exasperation.
“Right, Jamal taught me to think about the effect and then will it to happen. What effect did you think about?” Did he just think reveal in his head until it happened?
“That’s one way of doing magic, sure. Kris taught me another,” said James. Of course, Jamal had never given Clara a full magical education, she’d found out he was a spy and ended their relationship before he could. She wondered if he would’ve taught her everything he knew or if Nick would’ve stopped him. He always denied that he’d been hindering her progress, but she’d never been sure she could believe him.
“Teach me,” said Clar
a.
“Is this the time?” Kegan asked, turning in his seat to face James and Clara in the back.
“Considering what’s going on in town right now I think I should take every opportunity to learn that I can,” she snapped at him. She turned back to James. “You’ve been a dick to my family for decades. Do something good. Teach me.” It wasn’t a request.
“Alright,” he said flatly. “Close your eyes.” She did as he instructed. “This is the tricky part. You need to pull up your magic from within. Imagine it as some sort of entity and summon it upwards.”
She imagined her magic like a silver pool sitting in the depths of her stomach, swirling around inside her. She called to it, but nothing happened. She tried again. “I can’t make it move,” she said in frustration.
“What you’re seeing is your imagination, Clara. All you need to do is imagine it moving,” said James waspishly. Jamal had been a kinder teacher.
Once again she followed his instructions. She imagined the silver fluid rising upward through her. It was thick and silky and rippled as it moved. She could feel a resonation within her and knew that it was working. She wondered if her magic really did look like that, or even if it looked like anything at all. “Now what?” she whispered, fearful that if she spoke loudly she’d break her concentration.
“Send it at the soldiers in the street. Teach your magic what to look for.”
She sent the silver stuff out of her, out of the car, down the street. With her eyes closed she couldn’t see where the soldiers were, though. She didn’t open her eyes, but sent the magic to where they stood in her mind. As the magic swirled around the soldier she told her magic to remember him. Learn him. Know him. Remember him. In her mind the soldier turned into a red silhouette where he stood. She sent her magic over a few more of them, each soldier turning red in turn.
“When you’re ready, send your magic into the building and tell it to find similar people,” said James.
She did exactly what he said. The silver fluid, which had now expanded to fill the entire street, forced itself through the doors and continued to expand until it filled the building. Dots of red started to show up within the silver. More and more, the dots grew in size and soon there was more red than silver. Clara could feel her heart drumming away in her chest as she became overwhelmed but the red mass that covered the town hall. The town hall started to get smaller as she began flying upwards. She had no idea how it was happening, but she moved higher, unable to stop herself as the silver moved outside the town hall, expanding across the town. She saw it highlighting more and more giant red blobs all over the town.
“Clara!” Dean’s voice smashed through her concentration and she was back in the car. “You were mumbling to yourself. What the fuck happened?” He was staring at her in concern.
“I’m not sure,” she said. She was breathing heavily, short of breath. She looked at James who was also staring at her in wonder. Kegan only looked mildly perplexed, laid back as ever. “I saw the town. There are groups of soldiers stationed all over it. And all around it. They’re everywhere,” she said.
“Pretty much what we expected,” Kegan said. Clara couldn’t believe he was being so flippant. If he’d seen what she’d seen he would be more worried. She looked at James. “Let’s get in there and see if we can find a way to stop this.”
“Alright, but just us two,” said James.
“No way,” Dean said, his neck reddening.
“He’s right,” Clara interjected. “If something goes wrong you two will know where we are. You can go and get my dad to rescue us. If we all go in and something happens then nobody will know where we are and we’ll all be dead.”
Dean folded his arms and turned rigidly in his seat so he wasn’t facing Clara anymore. “Fine. I’ll wait fifteen minutes and if you’re not out—”
“You’ll go and get my dad,” she reiterated. She knew Dean was prone to making silly decisions like running in on a rescue mission alone. He’d tried to rescue his dad from an SIT holding facility single-handedly.
“Sure,” he mumbled and then fell silent.
“Good luck,” said Kegan, from the driver’s seat.
“I doubt we’ll need it,” James said, his cocky side re-emerging. Then he placed his hand on Clara’s shoulder and they were gone.
Chapter 4
Nausea filled Clara’s stomach and she fought to maintain balance as the room she was now in spun around her.
“How unexpected,” said a high female voice. It was a voice Clara had heard before and one that she never wanted to hear again. How could Sidney have kept this from her? He must have known that Eloise was part of his organisation all along. This was the unpleasant person he’d once spoken of.
“Eloise,” said James quietly.
The room came into focus and Clara saw that the small white haired woman sitting behind the mayor’s desk was indeed Eloise Cultrum, the former deputy mayor. She’d been presumed dead having last been seen in a crypt that had collapsed. Sitting to the side of the desk was Bradley Carter, the mayor. He looked at Clara apologetically before returning his gaze to the desk which was covered in maps of the different areas in town.
“Bradley, what’s going on?” said Clara. She’d thought they had a good working relationship and yet here he was helping the enemy. Of course, Eloise had been one of his superiors in the days when the council ruled over the town and kept the supernaturals oppressed.
“I’m sorry, Clara. I don’t have a choice,” he said meekly.
“Nonsense,” Eloise said harshly. “There is always a choice. You have chosen to help the righteous.”
“And what exactly is it that the righteous planning on doing?” James asked as he took a step towards the desk. There were no soldiers in the office and Clara assumed that Eloise had not expected any teleporting visitors.
“What I always said we should do; wipe out the vile creatures that stain God’s earth,” said Eloise.
“You’re the spy Sidney told me about. He said there was a woman on the council,” said Clara, as she recalled the conversation she’d had with Sidney not so long ago. He’d told her that MI5 had sent spies to Cedarstone, but none were still active. He’d told her that the council spy had returned to Thames House and advised the director to exterminate the supernatural population. Clara guessed that she now had authorisation to do so.
“Quite right, Miss Winters,” she said. She stood up and placed her pen delicately on the desk. The pen looked like it was worth more than the desk it sat on. “MI5 assigned me to Cedarstone when I was barely older than you are now, Miss Winters. My cover started out in a church that dealt with the supernatural. My time at the church opened my eyes. I found a true faith and with it I found my purpose. God wants me to purify the world. Starting with this wretched town. It has taken me some time to persuade those in government to agree with me. All the while the council maintained control they believed all was well. I should have brought the council down myself, but I just couldn’t do that to Jonathan.” She said his name in a softer tone, a gentle expression in her eye.
“We always thought you had feelings for him,” Bradley said quietly. “Thought something might be going on behind closed doors.”
Eloise turned to Bradley, her eyes blazing. “Do not be so vulgar. My love for Jonathan was pure. Not physical. I loved his person. Even though his vision for the world was wrong. He wanted a world where beasts like the two of you,” she indicated Clara and James. “Were servants for us humans. I have always wanted to see the world as God intended it. Without the likes of you in it.”
“Isn’t God all for accepting people for who they are?” said James.
“Who they are, yes. Not what they are. You, James Tenson, are the most deplorable thing I have ever encountered. An animal with magic. And to think, you had the audacity to sit at the table with us for all those years. No. Never again. Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.”
“I’ll be happy to put you out of your misery then,�
�� James spat, clearly annoyed at her insults. He pointed at Eloise and sent some sort of curse flying at her. Clara didn’t want to imagine the kind of curses Nick had taught him. Only nothing happened.
Eloise let a short bark of a laugh escape her lips and she smiled devilishly. “You can’t hurt me.” She held up her arm and showed them the simple metal bracelet which sat on her wrist. “Iron bracelets. All my staff have them so you can forget about trying to cast spells on us.”
James’ lips curled back in a snarl. “That’s fine with me, luckily, magic isn’t the only weapon in my arsenal,” he said before running across the room at her. His palm hit the desk and he bolted himself into the air. Before he made it across the door slammed open and a gun went off. Clara went for cover instinctively and James crashed to the floor screaming. The bullet had hit him in the shoulder and a river of blood was pouring out.
“Likewise, I have several weapons in my own arsenal,” Eloise said as she walked around the desk, patting her hair to make sure it was still neat and tidy. She pulled out a chair and sat down next to James who was still writhing on the floor.
Clara looked around for some sort of escape. There were now two soldiers in the room blocking the door. One had a rifle pointed at James, the other was trained on Clara. James was the only way out of the room and he was currently out of action.
“You might recall that Jonathan commissioned researching weapons we could use against your kind,” Eloise said. Clara did recall, she also recalled the he’d used her company, Winters Research, to do it. “That is an iron-silver alloy bullet sitting in your shoulder right now. The iron neutralises your magic and the silver causes you unimaginable pain. I have heard that you are now immortal, so it won’t kill you, sadly. But your death will come soon. As will yours, Miss Winters.” She looked at Clara with a look that reminded her of a headmistress talking to disruptive students. “You will both be executed publicly. To show the rest of your brethren what is to be expected in the coming weeks. As soon as the innocent children of God have been safely evacuated from this hellish town, I will begin my holy mission.”