“Yes, Ma’am.” Olivia nodded, her face solemn.
Ma’am’s lips moved, and the barest hint of sound rustled out, autumn leaves pushed by the wind, sliding and tumbling against each other. The book left the middle of the table and floated towards me. Of course I’d have to go first—the person with the least experience and probably the most scared person here, other than Olivia.
Would this hurt? And what would I be asked to sacrifice if I couldn’t uphold my promise?
I placed a sweaty palm against the cool metal cover.
Angelica’s voice was deeper than normal, even, and commanding. “Repeat after me, Lily. I, Lily Katerina Bianchi, swear to uphold the utmost secrecy in regard to the investigation into the group known as Regula Pythonissam.”
As I repeated her words, hot air surrounded me, swirling faster and faster, the breeze like a scorching summer wind coming off the desert. The type of gust that was the opposite of refreshing. The hair in my ponytail stirred, fluttering against the back of my neck.
Ma’am continued, “If I discuss anything related to this case with anyone other than those currently in this room, I will forfeit my magic. My failure to keep this secret will result in me becoming a non-witch. Permanently.”
Olivia’s intake of breath was loud enough to reach me. Holy hell, that was pretty severe. But then again, what was I really losing? If my magic disappeared, I’d be safe again, and I’d just go back to my old life, because surely the group after me wouldn’t need me anymore. But then again, Millicent had once explained how bereft I’d feel, and whenever I blocked my magic to stop weird things appearing in my camera, I suffered an emptiness that was hard to describe. It was as if a huge part of me was missing. Being honest with myself meant admitting I would miss my magic as much as I would miss my right arm. Also, that group’s goals wouldn’t change just because they couldn’t use me. Maybe me having no power was just what they wanted?
I took a deep breath and repeated her words. The whirlwind picked up speed, slapping strands of my hair into my cheek.
“… becoming a non-witch. Permanently.” The air spun faster until it was hard to breathe. I shut my watering eyes. Then it died all at once. I opened my eyes.
The book quietly drifted to Will, as if nothing had happened. The process repeated until everyone, including Ma’am, had sworn on the magical tome. Then it was Olivia’s turn. Ma’am placed her hands on my friend’s shoulders, and Olivia had to swear on her ability to walk. That was harsh, but I was relieved she hadn’t had to swear on her life—none of us were risking our lives, just an ability, so it shouldn’t have been different for her.
Ma’am waved her hand over the book that hovered in front of her. It disappeared. “Now that’s done, we can get to work. I’m sure we all have ideas on how to move forward. I want everyone to write them down and bring them to the next meeting. We’ll sift through them and formulate a plan. We’ll meet here at seven tomorrow night.”
Will’s phone rang. Ma’am raised a brow—he probably should have had it on silent for the meeting. I’d switched my phone off, although I rarely received calls anyway, but I figured it would be rude for it to ring during the meeting.
Will looked at the screen. “It’s my grandmother. I need to take it.”
Ma’am nodded, and Will answered the phone. “Hello, Gran…. What? Slow down. Say that again.”
We were all staring at Will. I guessed it was what happened when you took a phone call during a meeting. It didn’t help that he sounded worried.
Will’s brow wrinkled. “I know, but it happens. I’m sorry, Gran…. No! Don’t worry. You’ll be all right. I promise…. Of course I can come and see you. I’ll be there soon. Bye.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“Another one of her friends died. Everyone there always says these deaths come in waves of three. She’s worried she’ll be next.”
“That’s nonsense.” Ma’am shook her head. “You go and comfort your grandmother, Will. You can make up the time tonight.”
“Thanks, Ma’am.” He stood and looked down at me. “Want to come for a drive? She seemed to like you last time. Maybe having you there will help calm her.”
I stood. “I’d be happy to.”
We said our goodbyes and left. I had an idea, but I wasn’t sure if Will would agree, and to be honest, it scared me. As we drove, I placed my hand on my tummy to quiet the nerves and broached it with him. “Do you want me to take a photo of your grandmother? That way you’ll know if she really has anything to worry about.”
He stayed quiet, maybe considering my offer. After a few minutes, he said, “No, thanks. I’d rather not know. It’s not like we can prevent it. She’s old. Whether her time is tomorrow or in a year, it’s coming.” He frowned.
“Fair enough.”
We arrived at the nursing home, and the night staff buzzed us in. While we waited for the lift, a scream echoed down the hallway, and a groan followed. “What are they doing to them?”
The lift opened. Will ushered me in. “Nothing. They’re demented. The other day when we came in, it was unusually quiet. Normally, it's much noisier than tonight. At night, they drug the residents so they’ll sleep.”
“They do what?” My eyebrows climbed up my forehead.
“Not like that, Lily. Some of them have insomnia. It’s part of caring for them, giving them sleeping pills. They don’t all get them, of course. Normally Gran is asleep by now.”
It was only about eight thirty. Sheesh, they had an early bedtime. When I was old—hopefully I’d get there and not die young—I would hardly sleep. Not having much time left should make you want to do stuff. And that was the other thing—old people drove so slooooow. I’d be speeding everywhere. God knew that they had no time to waste.
When the lift opened to the upper floor, crying reached us. Someone yelled, “Be quiet! Go to sleep.” A door slammed. An old man in a dark blue dressing gown ambled down the dimly lit hallway towards us, his slippers scuffing along the floor, making a swooshing sound.
A woman in a blue nurse-type uniform hurried after him. She grabbed his arm and led him back the way he’d come with only a quick glance our way. I swallowed. What a horrible existence. I hoped I never had to experience this for myself.
When we reached his grandmother’s door, Will knocked. “Who is it?” came from inside.
“It’s me, Gran. Will.” He turned the handle, but he couldn’t open the door.
“Just a moment.” After a minute, the screech of a chair scraping across the floor made me wince. The door opened a crack, and his grandmother peeked out. She opened the door further, leaned out past the doorframe and Will, looked both ways, then pulled him in. I followed. She shut the door quickly once we were in.
What the hell was going on?
She looked at me as if she’d never seen me before. She pointed a crooked finger at me. “Who’s this? It’s not a friend of the Queen’s. Is it?”
“No, Gran. She’s my friend Lily. She was with me when you called, so she came with me.”
Will introduced us again, and I smiled. “Lovely to meet you, Edith.”
Her eyebrows drew down, and she pursed her lips. This didn’t seem to be the friendly Edith of this morning. Meeting her seemed as if it had happened a week ago, not less than half a day. And she didn’t even remember me. That was sad, but at least she recognised Will was her grandson this time.
She stood opposite William and grabbed his arms. “My friend is dead. That’s two this week. They’re coming for me next. You have to get me out of here.”
“Who died?”
“Beryl… my Australian friend. She moved to London because she married one of us. She’s been here for forty years, but now she’s gone. They did it, William. They killed her.”
“Who’s they?”
She looked around, and when her gaze came across me, she scowled. She leaned towards William and whisper-shouted. She obviously didn’t think I could hear. “She could be a spy. Make her
leave, and I’ll tell you.”
“Gran—”
“Will, it’s okay. I’ll wait outside. Goodnight, Edith.” I quickly left and shut the door quietly behind me. The only person outside was a woman carrying a tray with dirty dishes. She was passing Edith’s room as I stepped out. She didn’t glance back but hurried to the lift and pressed the button. Someone down the hall groaned, but it was fairly quiet otherwise.
I looked at Edith’s door. She’d been so nice this afternoon when she thought I was someone else, and tonight…. Will must be happy she knew who he was, but now she was agitated, paranoid even. But what if something was going on, and it wasn’t just an overreaction to the loss of her friends? Hmm. I decided to go for a walk.
I turned and walked past Edith’s door, in the opposite direction of the lift. I had no idea what to look for, but it couldn't hurt. A young dark-skinned man hurried past, carrying a garbage bag. He gave me a nod, and I smiled. Further along, moaning came from a room to my left. The door was ajar. I stopped. The moaning continued, the tone of what I’d expect a ghost would have, not that I believed in ghosts. I glanced up and down the hallway—no one was around. I carefully opened the door a bit more and peered in.
The room was dark, so I couldn't see much. I tried to reach for the flowing river of magic to make a small light, but it was like grasping at air. An invisible barrier stopped me from reaching my magic. An uncomfortable sensation skittered along my brain—the precursor to panic. Sweat slicked my forehead and the space between my nose and mouth. I finally remembered that they blocked magic here to protect the residents. I took a deep breath and blew it out quietly. Phew.
I pulled my phone out and turned on the torch. Yay for technology. I shone the light on the floor—the reflected light would be enough to see what I needed. The groaning hadn’t stopped.
An elderly man lay in bed, the covers up to his armpits. He was on his back, his eyes and mouth open, and he was staring at the ceiling, emitting that terrible sound. My light hadn’t snagged his attention. The dirge stopped only long enough for him to take a breath. Then it continued. It was almost physically painful to hear. I pulled his door ajar and kept going.
There was no way I could work in a place like this. I totally respected the selfless employees who cleaned and cared for these people. I knew they were paid, but they were doing the worst types of things for people they had no history with. Poo was not my forte. I’d be gagging half my shift.
I finally reached the end of the hallway where there was a door to the left and one to the right. Both were closed, and I wasn’t going to invade someone’s privacy in that way. The door that had been slightly open was different, at least in my mind.
As I stood contemplating what to do next, the door on the right opened, and a woman hurried out, scaring the crap out of me. I started, my hand flying to my chest. The woman, who was about five foot three, had short wavy hair and looked to be about sixty. There was something familiar about her, as if I’d seen her before. Maybe I had this morning and it hadn’t registered?
She stared at me; her dark blue eyes narrowed. Her tone was short. “Are you lost?”
“Um, no. I’m just waiting for someone, and I thought I’d go for a walk because I was bored.”
“Well, walk yourself the other way. Visiting hours are over. You shouldn’t even be here.” She folded her arms and stood there, obviously waiting for me to do as ordered. Why couldn’t people ask things nicely? She had no idea who I was or why I was there. I could have been the relative of one of the recently deceased residents. She really should be politer. Meanies like her made me hate people. Although, maybe she was just upset about the deaths too? It was likely she’d gotten to know the patients fairly well if she looked after them.
“Sorry. I’ll go and wait back where I was. We’re just here to comfort one of the residents who was upset because her friends died. Are you upset about it too?”
Her eyes registered surprise, then incredulity. Sadness didn’t factor into it. Maybe she was just a rude b—
“I’m a professional. The people here are old witches. It happens. They’ve all had fantastic lives. If I were to get upset about everyone who died, I’d be crying 24/7. Now get back to where you came from, or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
She was missing her empathy centre. Didn’t that make her a psychopath? And why did she want me out of there? It wasn’t as if I was doing anything. She raised her brows and tapped her foot. Gah. The best thing would be to turn and leave, and surprise, surprise, I did exactly that. I didn’t need another showdown with a psychopath—I was still recovering from the whole Dana Piranha disaster.
Angry care-home lady followed me.
When I reached Edith’s door, Will was exiting. The care-home woman wore the ghost of a smile when she saw where I’d stopped. In case she got any ideas about being mean to Edith, I squinted my eyes and radiated a “just try it, lady” look. Hopefully she got the message and didn’t think it was because I was constipated or had a stomach ache.
The door clicked shut. Will looked at me, his forehead a puzzle of creases. “Where’d you go?”
“Just for a walk.” I lowered my voice so the woman who was now almost at the lift couldn’t hear. “I ran into that horrible woman on the way. She’s not in the least upset that people are dying. That’s her over there.” The lift dinged, and she stepped in.
“She doesn’t look that horrible. Besides, the people here are old, and it’s expected.”
“How would you feel if your grandmother died?”
“Upset, but I know she had a good life, and she can’t live forever.”
“But would you still cry?”
He looked at me as if I was stupid. “Of course.”
“Well then. The people who work here get to know the residents. You’d think you’d at least spare a sad thought for them. They don’t have robots working here. Do they?”
“No. But maybe you have to tune out; otherwise, it would be too hard to come in every day.”
“Hmm, maybe.” I wasn’t convinced. That woman gave me an unpleasant feeling. Maybe I was just too judgemental? “How’s your gran?”
“I finally got her calmed down enough to try and sleep. She’s still worried they’re coming for her next.”
“Who?”
“The Queen.” He shook his head. “She’s been having delusions the last few weeks, and I thought they’d gotten them under control with medication, but this morning and tonight prove she’s still off with the fairies, so to speak.” He sighed.
“I’m sorry.” My heart could hurt all it wanted for him, but there was nothing I could do. “Let’s go. There’s not much you can do right now.”
“I know. It just scares me how quickly she’s gone downhill. Her delusions were smaller before—it was more calling people the wrong name, thinking I was my uncle or whatever. But now she thinks the Queen keeps visiting, and she’s killing her friends.”
As we ambled to the lift, I wondered: what if there was some truth to Edith’s ramblings after all?
Chapter 3
Will dropped me off and went back to work—crazy man. I went to bed soon after because the whole swearing on the book of magic tired me out. During the night, I dreamt of Queen Elizabeth, Prince Charles, and Camilla. They were dressed in designer threads—as usual—and they were wandering through the nursing home. Every now and then, the Queen would order someone knighted, and then she’d order Prince Charles to behead someone. He carried out her orders as Camilla laughed. I woke up the next morning feeling horrified.
I dressed and ambled downstairs to make my coffee. Once it was done, and I was sitting at the table inhaling the heady scent, it came to me—where I’d seen that woman at the care home before. Thank you, brain!
I hadn’t actually seen her before, but she looked a hell of a lot like Queen Elizabeth II. Did that mean Will’s grandmother had been talking about her? Had that woman killed the patients, or did Edith just think that because she wa
s around every time it happened, which made sense since she worked there? Gah, brain. Stop! Just because two old people died, didn’t mean anyone had killed them. Now I was buying into Edith’s delusion.
But what if it wasn’t a delusion?
I finished my coffee and stood. Maybe Olivia could help me nut this out or tell me I was being stupid and that my imagination was just trying to get attention. It was only 7:30 a.m., so she wouldn’t have gone to work yet. I made my way to her room. As I was about to knock on her door, my phone rang. I raced into my room to grab it—the phone company I was with never let it ring long before it would go to message bank, which was supremely annoying.
I panted to catch my breath as I answered. “Hello?” I’d been in such a hurry that I hadn’t looked at the screen to see who it was.
“Lily.”
My heart thudded hard, and my stomach dropped. His voice was tight—the tone of voice one used when delivering life-changing bad news. I swallowed. “Will, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Is James okay?” I held my breath, waiting for his answer. God, please don’t be James.
“I’m fine. It’s my gran.” He paused, maybe trying not to cry. “I just got a call from the care home. She’s dead.”
The silence expanded, seemed to fill the whole room, pushing on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I hardly knew her, but Will’s pain was my pain. My heart broke for him. “What do you need? I’m here, Will.”
“Can you come with me to the care home? My parents can’t make it. I need to collect Gran’s things and… identify her.”
“Did they say why she died?”
“They said it was a heart attack.”
I had a gazillion questions, but now wasn’t the time to ask. “Do you want me to meet you at the PIB?”
“I’m still at home. I’ll swing by and get you in ten minutes.”
“Okay… bye.” I’d never been to Will’s house. I didn’t have the coordinates to his reception room, and I thought it too forward to suggest I meet him there. It irked me a little that I’d never seen where he lived, but we agreed to take it slow. I sighed.
Witch Silenced in Westerham Page 3
