by R K Dreaming
“Hmmm. Do you have an alibi for the time of the murder? Say between the hours of nine o’clock last night and dawn this morning?”
“What alibi would that be?” I snapped.
His eyes dropped to my left hand, where a faint band of pale skin was visible on my ring finger. I had left my wedding rings in London, flinging them off in a fit of rage.
“No,” I said shortly. “The only person around here is Aunt Adele. I saw her before I went to bed. She can vouch for me.”
“And after that?”
“After that I was trying to get some sleep,” I said shortly.
I saw him write down the words no alibi on his notepad.
“Why have you come back to Brimstone Bay after so long away?” he asked.
“I don’t see how that is relevant.”
“Why did you arrive so late at night?”
“I got a late train. Why? Is that against your sense of propriety?”
He didn’t comment, merely saying, “Why does no one know that you are in town?”
“How do you know that nobody knows I’m in town?” I said sharply.
I saw the slight rise in his eyebrows, and I almost groaned out loud. Darn it! The sneak! He had trapped me into saying that. He hadn’t really known that I’d come back to town on the down-low. Now he did.
“Wily coyote,” I muttered.
“Excuse me?”
“I said you’re not just a pretty face after all!”
He looked annoyed.
There were so many things I could have said to explain away creeping in under the cover of night. That I enjoyed being a solitary person. That I was an introvert, a writer. But given my new affliction, all of that just sounded highly suspicious. So I said none of it. I didn’t want him thinking I was alone a weirdo who had something to hide.
“Are you done with your fifty million questions?” I asked irritably. “Shouldn’t you be running off to interview that James guy?”
“Do you know where I might find him?”
“How am I supposed to know that?” I demanded hotly. “Do you think I’m harbouring him in here?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”
Now he was being deliberately provocative. There had been no reason for him to say that at all. Other than being snarky with me.
I stood up abruptly. “I’d like you to leave now. I believe I’ve told you anything helpful that I’m aware of.”
I was trying very hard not to be rude. Perhaps I imagined it, but I was sure that I saw the corners of his lips twitched, as if this amused him.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to stay a little longer,” he said. “Or do you want the body to stay in your garden all day?”
I groaned out loud this time, not bothering to hide it. How stupid of me. And I called myself a crime writer! He needed to wait for a crime scene team to arrive.
“I assume you won’t need me for that. Aunt Adele can keep you company.”
I swept out of the kitchen like a Westbrim ought to. Shoulders stiff, back straight, chin up. Granny Selma would have been proud.
Aunt Adele ruined it by saying, “You go and get yourself back into bed, dear. You look done in. I’ll bring you up a breakfast tray.”
As if I was a child.
“And don’t go anywhere,” added Chris Constantine.
I scowled. “Am I a suspect? Did you see the state of her wounds? That poor girl. I could not possibly have done it.”
“You are a witch,” he said. “You could have done anything.”
* * *
Some hours later I was pacing around and around my tower room. The crime scene team had come and done their work and gone with the body, and so had Chris Constantine. I had kept watch from out of my window.
Allegra had messaged again as I’d been watching him. I’d wished I could snap a shot of the view and send it to her. Hashtag Eye Candy.
Allegra was single. She would have appreciated it.
Did she know Hollywood’s finest was working as law enforcement in Brimstone now? Was he doing research for a new role? But that couldn’t be right. Chief Raine would never have sent him here alone to lead on a murder case if he was an amateur. The chief had very high standards.
I know you’re all loved up and all, Allegra’s message had said, but when are we meeting? I want to hear all about it. Don’t even think about putting me off. You can’t skip two weeks in a row.
She wanted me to confirm our next weekly London meetup. But I wasn’t in London. She wanted to hear happy newly-wed stories. I had none.
Please, let’s skip again just this once? I had replied. I’ll let you know when.
She had not replied. Her silence still felt ominous. Allegra was no fool. She knew something was up. I hoped she would put it down to the weirdness of me being a newlywed.
In other circumstances I’d have said I was lucky to have that excuse.
Aunt Adele had brought me the breakfast that she had promised me.
She had told me in hushed tones that she had been eavesdropping in the garden, and overheard Agent Constantine and a crime scene woman talking. They thought it was possible that Lily had not been killed in our garden because there would have been more blood here if she had. She may have been murdered elsewhere.
I pondered this as I ate. It made sense that she must have died somewhere else, poor Lily. Because otherwise we would surely have heard sounds of a struggle. But where? And would that location have revealed something about the killer?
I finished every bite of the huge portions of toast and eggs and mushrooms and sausages, but I still felt ravenous.
It was daytime, and my body was trying to shut down, desperate to sleep. But I refused to do it. I was going to stay awake and be normal.
I had to be normal.
Chris Constantine had as good as told me I was a suspect. If he’d found out about my affliction, he would have marched me in to the police office in handcuffs already. I was sure of it.
I chewed my lip.
Lily had been left here on purpose, and the private garden, not the café garden that was more easily accessible. The private garden was walled off to keep strangers out. Someone had deliberately chosen it.
Was someone trying to frame me?
Why?
Had it been James the werewolf? Had he been trying to throw suspicion off himself? He would have heard Lily yelling at me. She had been mad at me. It was the perfect reason to frame me.
They’d picked the perfect patsy whether they knew it or not. Was my secret not as secret as I had thought? This thought was too scary. I pushed it out of my mind.
I had downplayed my argument with Lily to Chris. He’d find that out soon when he spoke to Oberon and the others. They would tell him how angry Lily had been with me. It had only been in the heat of the moment, but the others might say something different. And then Chris Constantine would be back, and this time he would have a real reason to be suspicious. This time he might look closer.
Darn it. My plan for the day had been as soon as it got dark, which would happen around four o’clock, I would rush to Brimstone Library to find the books that I needed.
Brimstone Library had a vast section of specialist books for witches and the eldritch. What I was looking for had to be in there.
But now I had a new problem. Imagine if Chris Constantine came back and decided to take me into the police office for questioning during the daytime, with all that bright sunlight.
My skin would blister up in a heartbeat. He would take one look at that and know it wasn’t a medical condition. He would know what had happened to me.
There were no vampire-witches in England for a reason. The same reason I hated even thinking those words.
I wasn’t one of those. I could not be. Something had happened to me. I didn’t remember what exactly. There had been an attack. So fast and sudden. Then nothing. Afterwards I had awoken with two little holes in my neck and an iron taste in my mouth.
Except now I wasn’t eve
n sure if those little holes had ever been there. They were gone.
But I did remember one thing. My magic had flared. For most of my life I’d had hardly any. But in the moment of the attack I had felt it roar to life within me so fiercely, as if desperate to save me.
And it had. I had no fangs. I still had a reflection. The transformation had not been complete. There was still a chance for me to save myself.
And the magic. I should have been excited about the magic. But I was scared. Look at what had happened in the café yesterday. The unexpected blast from my wand could have hurt James the werewolf badly.
Are you going to stay here agonizing all day, or are you going to do something about it? said a voice.
With a screech of shock, I whirled around towards my bed where the voice had come from. But nothing was there. The bed was empty.
I stood frozen where I was. I couldn’t see where it was. The voice had been a man’s. Not Aunt Adele’s.
I was shocked one of the seven ghosts had come to my tower. It felt such an intrusion!
“Who’s there?” I said in a shaky voice.
Me, said the voice.
Seeing movement, I looked down. Captain Villain had come out from under my bed. He was looking at me inquisitively. Perhaps because the invisible ghost was making me look like I was talking to myself like a madwoman.
I looked around the room some more, trying to spot a glimpse of pearly white translucent ghostliness anywhere. I especially inspected the walls and floor and ceiling, in case a ghost had stuck its head through it and was having some fun at my expense. I saw nothing.
I shivered. Maybe I’d imagined it.
I crouched to tickle Captain Villain between his ears.
“What are you doing there?” I said to him. “The least you could have done is come out when Chris Constantine was interviewing me. He didn’t believe that you’re real.”
That’s hardly my problem, said the voice.
I screamed, and fell over onto my butt.
Captain Villain was speaking! It was him.
His mouth had not moved. He had spoken directly into my mind.
“Captain Villain?” I said tentatively, getting to my feet but staying away from him.
Yes of course it’s me, he said irritably.
I gaped.
“But… But..!”
I had asked him a question just now but that was only because that’s how you spoke to cats. He wasn’t supposed to reply.
“You’re a cat! Cats don’t speak!”
Or not any that I’d heard of. All kinds of animals could be a witch’s familiar. And some of them even had different kinds of powers, but I had never heard of a speaking cat before. Not in real life anyway.
I’m not speaking, he said irritably. You’re hearing it in your head.
“Is that your special power?” I asked. “You can speak into people’s heads?”
Never you mind what my power is, he said. Now are you going to sit here and mope all day? Or are you going to find James the werewolf and ask him the questions you need to ask?
“But... well... er…”
Actually that was a very good idea.
Don’t flap about, girl. Spit it out!
“But I can’t go out just now,” I said to him. “Er, I’m not feeling well.”
I couldn’t explain why I wasn’t feeling like myself. I didn’t want anyone to know, not even the cat.
I know that, he said. I’ve noticed.
“You’ve noticed?” I squeaked.
I notice lots of things. Clearly you do not.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Where is James Bockleman? he said.
“Is that the werewolf? How do you know his surname?”
How do I know anything?
“This is a delusion,” I said. “I’m having a hallucination.”
I went over to my bed and sat down on it. I had been sick all week. What did I expect?
You most certainly are not, he said. Bored now. If you are going to be annoying, then I am going to leave.
“No, don’t leave,” I said quickly. “Do you really know where he is?”
So do you.
My eyes widened. That was right. I did know where he was! Yesterday Lily had told James that he could sleep on the beach with the cats for all she cared.
She had meant Kitten Cove.
He might still be there.
But for how long? I couldn’t leave the house until four o’clock. He might be long gone by then.
I got out my phone. I had to call Agent Constantine and let him know.
Don’t do that, said Captain Villain irritably. Let Mr Fancy Pants do his job and you do yours. Or do you want those kids telling him to look at you as a suspect? Do you think you’re going to stand up to scrutiny? They kill your kind. They always have.
I flushed with anger. “What do you mean my kind? I am not any kind.”
Not yet, he said enigmatically.
“Not ever,” I insisted. “Not if I can help it.”
It doesn’t matter, he said. Do you think they’re going to stop and wait to see what happens? Nosferatu, remember?
Of course I remembered. The prophecy of Nosferatu foretold of the rise of a terrible, dark vampire-witch or wizard. Which was not surprising since every witch or wizard who had ever been turned into a vampire had gone horribly bad. They had been hunted down and killed. Every last one. Every known one anyway.
“That’s not going to happen to me,” I whispered.
Not if you stay ahead of the game. And you had better hope Agent Constantine doesn’t find out about the last time you were accused of murder either.
“That..! How do you know about…? Oh, never mind! That was a ridiculous affair that had nothing to do with me!”
And yet they’ll point to it and say there’s no smoke without fire. We had better be off. Are you coming?
With his tail held high in the air, Captain Villain walked up to my door and looked at me like he wanted me to let him out.
“I can’t go anywhere, remember? Not until after dark.”
That’s what you think, he said. Come with me and you can go exactly where you need to be.
This was mad.
Bonkers.
Cloud cuckoo land, as Granny Selma would say.
But I let him out and followed him down the spiral stairs of South Tower. This was going to be interesting if nothing else.
Captain Villain didn’t try to lead me out of the house. Instead he led me down into the basement and into the dungeons below the castle, and into a narrow twisty corridor.
I kept looking around in wide-eyed amazement, for which Captain Villain had no patience.
He stopped at a dead-end wall, and told me to press on a brick. To my shock a section of wall opened up into a passageway hewn into the rocks.
Hewn by nature, it seemed. It was a cave tunnel. As we walked it went down and down, and intersected with many other tunnels, and twisted to and fro. I felt like at any moment I might bump into the minotaur.
It was dark. I was glad that he had suggested I bring a lantern.
When I had been a kid I had heard of tunnels that run under the cliff, but I had thought they were just a myth. And anyway, even if they had existed, Allegra and I had not wanted to go looking for them because the myth said that they led into the catacombs where all of the ancient eldritch crypts were.
Gosh I hoped he wasn’t leading me there.
Captain Villain trotted along like he was going for a walk in the park. He didn’t hesitate. Not once. I sure hoped he wasn’t going to run off, because I didn’t know how I would get out of here without him.
And I certainly hoped this talking cat thing wasn’t a delusion, because otherwise I was done for. The cat could disappear off at any moment, and I would perish of thirst before I breathed fresh air again.
Finally we saw daylight ahead.
The daylight was the end of the tunnel that we were in. It opened up
on some rocky ground a little distance up from Kitten Cove. I could see the beach and sea below.
I stayed in the shadows at the entrance of the cave mouth, and pulled my hood lower over my face.
Kitten Cove was named for the many kittens and cats that lived here. They didn’t seem to mind the surf and often frolicked in it. Many of them were sprawled out on the sand dunes sunbathing. You knew the cats had to be magical because, even with winter’s arrival, this little beach was warmer than it had a right to be.
There he is, said Captain Villain.
And I saw him. James the werewolf was lying down amongst the cats, apparently fast asleep even though it was past midday.
The thing about Kitten Cove was that the cats here guarded their territory fiercely. That was why I had always liked Kitten Cove as a teen. It was a place where I could be fairly solitary, whereas Brimstone Bay Beach had always been so busy.
The cats didn’t let anyone come here that they didn’t like. And if they liked James the werewolf, then chances were that he was not dangerous.
And so I found myself yelling, “James! Yoo hoo!”
Yoo hoo? said Captain Villain, looking disgusted.
“What?” I shrugged. “It’s a sound that carries.”
And I was right. Because James had sat up and was looking around to see where I had called him from.
I waved my arms and shouted some more until he saw me.
He ran over to me, and then stopped a short distance away, looking confused.
“You’re the woman from that castle café,” he said suspiciously.
“Yep, I’m the woman.”
“What do you want?”
He was looking at my hands as if he expected to find my wand there.
“Sorry about that,” I said. “I didn’t mean it. Heat of the moment, you know.”
“Were you looking for me?” he said.
He looked more nervous than I felt, which was comforting. This guy couldn’t be a killer. My instincts told me it wasn’t possible.
Ooh, instincts! said Captain Villain. I like it.
“Shut up,” I said.
“What?” said James, looking startled.
“Nothing,” I said. “Not you.”
And anyway, it wasn’t him, said Captain Villain. He was here all last night getting drunk and then passing out. I saw him.
