All Hallows' Magic

by T J Green

  “In what way?”

  “Well, someone is trying to manipulate events at Old Haven. Someone is placing witch-signs in the trees, and there’s a sign burnt into the earth now. That didn’t happen at All Souls. The spirit there arrived all on its own.” Avery inwardly winced. Not exactly true, but she couldn’t tell James about the portal under the Church.

  James’s lips tightened. “Witchcraft! Someone is performing witchcraft at Old Haven? That’s sacred ground. Hallowed. Consecrated to God!” His voice rose with anger.

  “Witches are not demons,” Avery said, her voice also rising with indignation. “Witches are good. They are not repelled by hallowed earth. Many worship the Goddess, not the Christian God. It doesn’t make them evil.”

  “You speak from experience,” James said knowingly, his eyebrows raised.

  “Yes,” she said, sick of his accusations and stupid ignorance. “I know about witchcraft. There’s good and bad to the craft, as there is to anything. But I’m pretty sure this is not about inviting demons into Old Haven.” As she said it, a certainty rushed through her, and she was convinced she was right. Her being resonated with it.

  He leaned forward. “Then what are the witch-signs for? They are creepy and unholy and I want them gone.”

  “We cannot move them. Yet.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her and then sat back. “That’s exactly what Ben said. Why? They’re just twigs.”

  “Look, you asked Ben to keep an eye on the place, so he is. There have been increased spirit sightings there. It’s an old church, with old graves. Halloween is coming. Maybe somebody wants to stir up ghosts and scare people. Or maybe it’s something else. He came to me for advice, and I suggested that we don’t move the signs yet. You have to trust me, James. We’ll move them when we can.”

  “Well, that’s the trouble Avery, I’m not sure I can trust you.”

  Avery’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. “So, why are you here?”

  “I’m assessing my options.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she shot back, annoyed. “We helped you at All Souls, and I’ll help you now, but we need time and space to do it.”

  James rose to his feet, the chair scraping along the floor. “I’ve wrestled with my conscience ever since the events in the summer. I’m not sure what happened then, but I have to accept I wilfully looked the other way. I will not again. I’ve decided I’m going to call the police.”

  Avery stood, too. “And what will they do?”

  “I want them to catalogue it and issue a trespass notice. I don’t want whoever it is doing this to think they can keep doing this.”

  “And what about Ben and the filming?”

  “I will allow that, but not the witch-signs. I’m going to get them down as soon as possible. And I want the press there.”

  “The press! Are you nuts? Old Haven will be invaded! I thought you would hate that. In fact, that’s exactly what you wanted to avoid at All Souls!”

  “I’ve changed my mind. I will make it clear that this will not be tolerated.” And with that, he turned and marched out the door.

  ***

  “I’m worried James is going to get hurt,” Avery said to Alex.

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine. Especially if the press and the police will be there,” he answered, trying to reassure her. “What could go wrong?”

  “Everything!” she huffed. “I wonder if I should go.”

  “Don’t talk bollocks,” he said, incredulous. “You can’t use magic, and you being there will look suspicious. Let James go ahead and do what he has to. I guarantee if he can tear those signs down, they’ll be back overnight. In fact, he probably can’t tear them down. They’re reinforced with magic.”

  “That’s what worries me. He could get hurt. And what would be on film?”

  “Nothing! Magic will fry the footage.”

  “Well, from what Ben told me, it’s happening tomorrow at midday.”

  It was a few hours after James had announced his intention to remove the signs, and Avery and Alex sat at the corner table in Penny Lane Bistro, exactly where they had sat months earlier when they were planning to break in and hunt for Helena’s grimoire. In fact, Penny Lane Bistro had been Helena’s house with her husband, and it was from there that she had been dragged to her trial for being a witch.

  “When did he phone?” Alex asked, referring to Ben.

  “At about six. I’d been trying to warn him about what James was planning, but he was testing psychic subjects at the university.”

  Alex smirked. “Were they psychic?”

  “It doesn’t look like it,” she said, laughing. “Anyway, James had already told him. The press couldn’t scramble in time for today, so that’s why it’s happening tomorrow. They were very interested, apparently.”

  “Of course they were. It’s the perfect Halloween story. Especially after the deaths in the churches over the summer.”

  “I guess there isn’t much we can do. I’ve told Ben to stand as far back as possible.” Avery sighed. “I thought we’d ended things with James quite well, and now I find he’s been fuming for months. It sucks.”

  Alex leaned forward and held her hand, stroking her palm. “I know. But we’re witches and he’s a vicar. And we did act very suspiciously. Anyway, I’m starving. Let’s order food first and then we can talk.”

  “Does your stomach always come first?” Avery asked petulantly.

  “Not always.” He turned to the menu. “I’m having steak. What about you?”

  “You always have steak.”

  “I’m a red-blooded male and I’ve been on my feet all day. You?”

  “Venison,” Avery said decisively. She sipped her red wine and decided he was right. There was nothing she could do about James. Ben and the others would be there—they were going to be interviewed about ghosts. They could keep an eye on James. “So, how’s Zee working out?” she asked after they placed their order.

  “Brilliant.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. He’s tall and striking, he works hard, and the ladies love him. Including half the bar staff,” he added with a frown.

  Avery laughed. “Oh! A ladies’ man?”

  “I’m not sure I’d say that. He’s just charming—and huge. And mysterious. I think that helps.”

  “Mysterious how?”

  Alex sipped his pint as he thought. “He doesn’t talk about himself much—understandably. No one knows where he comes from or what he does outside of work. And let’s face it—we don’t know much more, either. I just know they live in that big house on the edge of the moor that’s available for long-term rentals. I have no idea how they arranged it, or who sorted their paperwork, and I don’t want to know.”

  “How’s Newton with him?” Newton often drank in The Wayward Son, but he was very suspicious of the Nephilim.

  Alex raised his eyebrows and exhaled heavily. “Polite but brusque. He’ll come around. I don’t think it helps that the very handsome Eli is working with Briar.”

  “Really! Jealous? Well, he should have made a move when he had the chance.” She took a satisfying sip of wine. “I’m a bit disappointed. They would have made such a nice couple. But, it’s his own fault. ”

  “You’re a hard woman, Avery Hamilton,” Alex said, holding her hand and gazing at her in the way that was guaranteed to send her stomach somersaulting. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

  She met his dark chocolate eyes and felt her heart skip a beat. “Keep treating me like this and I don’t think you ever will.”

  “Ever? I like that,” he said, rubbing her palm again, and Avery allowed herself a twinge of excitement at the thought that this may last longer than any relationship she’d ever had before.

  She wasn’t sure if she was pleased or bitterly resentful when the waiter brought their food and their conversation turned more mundane, but just after nine they were interrupted by Alex’s phone.

  “Hey Reuben,” Alex starte
d, but then he fell silent and looked alarmed. Really alarmed. Avery’s stomach tightened with worry. “Reuben, I need you to stay calm until we get there. Give us five.” He looked at Avery. “Something’s wrong with El. We need to go.”

  6

  El was lying on the floor in the middle of her lounge, unconscious.

  Her long, blonde hair was spread around her, looking bright against the dark red of the rug beneath her. Her face was pale, and her limbs were spread wide. She was wearing skinny jeans and a t-shirt, and her feet were bare.

  The door to her flat had been open and they found Reuben at her side, kneeling as he shook her gently. “She won’t rouse at all!” He looked at them, panic filling his eyes.

  Avery felt for her pulse. “How long has she been like this?”

  “About fifteen minutes. It happened just before I called you.” Reuben was almost breathless with worry.

  “What were you doing?” Alex asked calmly.

  “We’d just had dinner. I’d cooked and was tidying the kitchen, and she walked from the table to join me and just fell!”

  “No headaches, dizziness, anything weird? Any sign of fainting?” Alex asked.

  “No! It was a normal night and she just collapsed. Should I call an ambulance? I wasn’t sure if it was magic.”

  Interesting suggestion.

  “Have you called Briar?” Avery asked.

  “I couldn’t get through,” he explained.

  “I’ll try.” Alex rose to his feet and started to pace as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

  El’s pulse was fluttering wildly under Avery’s fingers and her eyes seemed to be moving rapidly beneath her closed lids.

  Avery looked around the room, perplexed, and asked a question, not really expecting Reuben to answer. “I wonder if she’s possessed or something?”

  He frowned. “Why do you ask that?”

  “Well, you wondered if it was magic. She’s young and healthy. Why would she collapse?”

  The more she thought about it, the more likely this seemed and she stood, too, looking around the room, eyes narrowed.

  “Let’s think. We know there’s another witch in White Haven. There are witch-signs at Old Haven, and strange sigils on the ground. Someone is trying to conjure something. They must know we’re witches—or at least that there are witches in White Haven. Josh could recognise magic and he’s a Shifter, so another witch would know us. Maybe that’s even why they’re here,” she said, thinking out loud.

  “Are you suggesting that whoever it is, is targeting us?” Reuben asked, wide-eyed. “Some bastard has hexed El?”

  “Maybe.” Avery shrugged. “That’s the only logical solution—improbable though that seems.”

  Alex joined them. “I got hold of Briar. She was at the Shifters’ house with Hunter. They’re coming now.”

  “Both of them?” Avery asked, confused.

  “He wants to help,” Alex explained. “Not sure whether it’s us though or Briar. But, all help is welcome.”

  “We need to look for witch-signs, symbols, runes, hex marks—anything,” Avery said. “I’m wondering if she’s been cursed by our mysterious newcomer.”

  Alex nodded. “Reuben, you monitor El. Yell loudly if anything changes. We’ll search the flat.”

  “And the foyer,” Reuben suggested, reaching for El’s hand.

  “Good idea. I’ll look there now,” Avery said, heading for the lift.

  El’s flat was situated on the top floor of an old converted warehouse, next to White Haven harbour. The foyer was locked, and visitors had to ring to be let in, but that wouldn’t bother a witch. It was easy to open locks—electronic or otherwise.

  The trouble was, Avery thought as she examined the lobby, which contained a large plant, a small table, the entrance doors to the two ground floor flats and not much else, a hex bag or something in the lobby would surely affect the whole building.

  Outside the locked area of the foyer was the entrance with a row of locked post boxes. There were only five other flats here—two on each floor, including the ground floor. Avery looked in El’s post box, but it was empty other than a couple of advertising flyers.

  She headed out of the building and around the perimeter, not knowing what she was looking for, but hoping to see something unusual.

  Once outside she inhaled deeply, enjoying the fresh sea air and sharp bite of brine and seaweed. The tide was in, and the fishing boats and small sailing ships bobbed on the gently moving water. The harsh glare from the street lamps showed that the road next to the harbour was mostly deserted, other than a few people wandering past on their way to and from pubs and restaurants. The fish and chip shop had steamy windows, and the faint smell of chips and vinegar drifted towards her. Avery shivered. It was cold and she could feel rain in the air.

  Avery set off around the side of the building. There was only a short distance separating it from the sea, and as she progressed further around the back of the warehouse, the sounds of the town fell away and she heard the glug and lap of the water.

  She felt a prickle run down her spine.

  Someone was watching her.

  Avery froze, slowed her breathing, and sent out her magic, gently. She didn’t want to alarm whoever was watching her.

  She turned slowly, scanning the area. To the right all she could see was the road snaking around the edges of the town, past the arcade with Viking Ink above it, heading towards Spriggan Beach.

  No. Nothing from that direction.

  Avery examined the walls and ground, looking for witch-marks or sigils, all the while feeling the prickle between her shoulder blades, but the building looked and felt normal. This attack was definitely directed at El, and whoever was watching wanted to see their reaction.

  She looked towards the deeply shadowed path under the wall on the far side of the harbour. Someone was there. Should she engage them now? She had no idea of how strong they were or what they could do. It could be a trap for all she knew.

  Quickly, before she changed her mind, she sent a spell to chill the blood—unpleasant, but not fatal. Within seconds there was a cry, and Avery saw a bright blue light flash across the water towards her. She rolled, threw up her defences, and deflected the energy bolt. A figure sprinted towards the road. Avery saw a coil of rope lying on the quayside and she flicked another spell towards it, seeing it rise with satisfaction and trip up the unknown enemy. Her assailant rolled quickly and sent a well-aimed curse at her. Avery flew backwards, hitting the wall of the building with a crushing thump.

  She dragged herself off the cold floor and stood ready to fight, but it was too late. Her attacker had gone.

  Avery ran back down the quay, hoping to see someone running along the street, but instead met Briar and Hunter as they sprinted from the road. Briar was breathless. “Sorry! I got here as quick as I could. Is she okay?”

  “She was, but I’ve been out here for the last fifteen minutes. Someone, another witch, was lurking over there.” Avery pointed to where her attacker had been hiding.

  Hunter narrowed his eyes. “Show me. I have a better sense of smell than any of you. I may be able to detect something.”

  If Hunter was still suffering from his injuries, Avery couldn’t tell. He looked fighting fit, and he reeked of confidence and aggression.

  Briar agreed. “You carry on. I’ll head up to El.” Without waiting for their response, she headed inside, and Hunter followed Avery.

  “You feeling better, then?” Avery asked as they walked.

  “Much,” he said, grinning. “Briar’s a good healer.”

  “She is. She’s a good witch.”

  “Single?” Hunter cocked a quizzical eye at her.

  Avery smiled, despite her worry about El. “Yes. Single. Don’t you live a long way from here?”

  “Not at the moment I don’t.”

  Avery appraised him. His hands were thrust into his leather jacket pockets, and his jeans hugged his hips. Leather boots completed the picture, alon
g with his charming, confident grin. He was a darker, cockier version of his younger brother, Josh, and he was very different from Newton. “She’s not the love ‘em and leave ‘em type,” she advised him, quickening her step. “You hurt her, I’ll boil your balls.”

  “Yes ma’am,” he said with a smirk.

  “I mean it.” They had reached the far side of the harbour, and the opening between the two walls yawned wide and dark, the waves choppy where the calm water met the open sea. “This is where my attacker was watching me and the building. I can feel a residual tingle of magic.”

  Hunter dropped to his hands and knees and sniffed the ground. Old lobster pots and rope were coiled on the side; the scent of fish and the sea was strong. Avery was certain he wouldn’t be able to smell much, but she was wrong.

  “Female, old.” He sniffed again, looking puzzled. “Very old.”

  Avery frowned. “But my attacker was agile. They ran and rolled. An old person couldn’t do that. You must be detecting something else.”

  He looked up at her and shook his head. “No. I can smell other stuff, of course—fishermen, fish, seaweed, dogs, cats. But I sense magic, too. Old magic from an old person.” He seemed very certain.

  “How old is very old? And how can you tell from a smell?”

  He rose to his feet and sighed. “It’s hard to explain, but energy has signatures—you can probably detect that, too?”

  “Yes, but this isn’t energy, it’s age.”

  “Oh, age has energy, too. For example, you smell of youth and vitality, and—” he inhaled deeply. “Roses and honeysuckle. And red wine. And a musky male.” He grinned. “Dinner date? And very strong magic. Your magic,” he pressed on before she could respond, “is a mixture of old and new. I sense another presence around you. Something smoky and complex, and a trace of violets.” He frowned, perplexed. ”Someone even older than your mysterious attacker.”

  Avery was astonished. “You must be able to scent Helena, my resident ghostly ancestor.”

  “You keep very interesting company, Avery.”

  “If Helena feels very old, and our attacker not so old, how old are we talking?”