by Rachel Green
“Is there another sister, perhaps? Procedures would have been followed...”
“I don’t need your assurances about procedures. Something is obviously wrong with them if she’s been released without my knowledge. There’s been an almighty cock-up somewhere and it isn’t mine.”
Felicia slammed the phone down and fought back the tears that threatened to cascade down her cheeks. “Julie?” She spoke aloud to the empty flat. “Where the hell are you?”
* * * *
Felicia fidgeted. She should be looking for Julie, not stuck in here.
DI White tapped his pencil on the table. “There’s something you’re not telling me. You have beads of sweat on your forehead and your pupils are dilated.”
“Look...” Surely they couldn’t believe that she had killed her own mother? “I’ve told you all this time and time again. I went to see Mother yesterday and saw her lying at the bottom of the stairs. I didn’t push her or anything. It would have been about one o’clock.”
“Yes, you said that in your statement.” White pulled the sheet of typed paper toward the edge of the table and read out what she’d written. “‘I usually visit my mother, Mrs. Patricia Turling, on my way to work, but since Monday was my day off, I’d dropped in on her to make sure she was all right after our visit to the hospital the day before. When I arrived at approximately one PM, I found my mother lying at the bottom of the stairs. At this point I saw flames at the top of the stairs and fled.’ That was what you told us, Miss Turling.”
Felicia nodded. “That’s right, yes.” She clutched her hands tightly together on her lap, the tension of the muscles in her shoulders making the blouse feel uncomfortably tight.
DI White tapped the paper thoughtfully. “The problem with your statement, Miss Turling, is that there are one or two inconsistencies. Is there anyone who can attest to your whereabouts?”
Felicia grimaced. “Meinwen Jones, the owner of Goddess Provides. I went to her afterward. She’s my friend.”
“That’s the witchy shop in Knifesmithsgate, isn’t it?”
“That’s right. My gallery is opposite.” She dabbed at her eyes.
“As long as Ms. Jones can vouch for you being in her company, I think we can keep dismiss any foul play, Miss Turling.” White smiled.
“Can I go now?” Felicia returned the smile.
“In a moment. There’s something else I’d just like to ask you first.” He flipped open his notebook.
“Yes?”
White perched on the edge of the table, thereby forcing her to look up at him. “One of your mother’s neighbors reported seeing your car outside your mother’s house at twelve-thirty PM. Would you mind explaining that?”
* * * *
Julie took a deep breath, feeling the oxygen infuse every pore. She smelled the familiar reek of sulfur and held her arm out for Wrack to return to her shoulder.
“You’re inside a tree.” He tapped on her arm. “Don’t ask me how because I don’t know. Your man outside reckons the tree will mask your spirit from those looking for you. Don’t ask me about that, neither.”
“But where are we? Are we still in England?”
“Oh, yes.” She could feel him shifting around. “We’re a mile or two from the hospital, near an outcrop of rock and in the middle of a wood. There’s a river nearby an’ all.” He began to chew something. She didn’t want to know what.
“Laverstone Wood.” Julie winced as something cracked right next to her ear. “Not far, then, not far at all.” She tried to wiggle her fingers, but felt nothing more than the whispering of the wind in the leaves above. “How long will he keep me prisoner?”
“Prisoner?” Wrack laughed and spat. “You’re not a prisoner.”
“Then why did he abduct me?”
Wrack curled his tail about her neck. “For your protection. He’s your granddad. Something like that, anyway. It got a bit complicated and I stopped paying attention.”
* * * *
Felicia closed her eyes and sighed as DI White stepped back into the interview room clutching a newly typed statement. Her earlier feeling of well-being had vanished like smoke on the wind after his phone call and now the fluorescent light, one bulb of which flickered constantly, was giving her a fresh headache.
“Right, Miss Turling. Let me read back your amended statement. ‘I went to my mother’s house at twelve-thirty on the afternoon of Monday the tenth and stood in the hallway talking to her. She was on the landing at the top of the stairs. As we talked, she stepped backward and fell down the stairs. I could see she was dead. I did not stop in the house because it was on fire.’ Is that correct?”
“That’s right. It was an accident.”
“You didn’t touch the body?”
Felicia shook her head.
“Then would you explain how you knew your mother was dead?”
Felicia’s voice was as small as a child’s. “I saw her ghost, and a demon came to take her away.” She buried her head in her hands and took several deep breaths.
“A demon.” White gave a long sigh. “Very well, Miss Turling. That will be enough questions for now. Are you on any medication? Perhaps you’d like a cup of tea and a chat to one of our counselors?”
He offered her a hand, and she stood shakily, drying her eyes with the last of the rolled-up tissue. She was directed to another room and was shortly joined by another woman.
“You must be Felicia Turling.” The woman consulted her notes. “I’m Jennifer Chung. It’s my job to assess your mental capacity as a witness to a possible crime. Did you see anything else apart from the ghost of your mother and the demon? Any goblins or fairies or pixies?”
Felicia glared at her. “No, of course not. They don’t exist.” She winced. “I’m fairly certain they don’t, anyway. I’ve never seen any and there was nothing else at the house.”
“Oh?” Jennifer wrote everything down, her handwriting a neat line of tiny copperplate. “What did this demon look like? Did it come to carry your mother away?”
“He looked like a pillar of fire.”
“About how big was he? Ten feet? Twenty?”
Felicia laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. The hall isn’t that big. He was about eight feet tall, the size of an angel.”
Jennifer looked up. “And you’ve seen those as well, have you?”
Felicia frowned. “Yes. Look, I know how this sounds, but I’ve just lost my mother.”
“Quite. I think that’s all for now. I have your address if I need to get in touch.”
* * * *
She flung on her coat and headed to the hospital. Where had Julie gone?
The staff at St. Pity’s were polite but obstructive. Julie’s room was empty, cleared of everything she owned, the bed stripped to the linen sheet over the mattress. Had it not been for her sister’s strong scent, Felicia would have doubted Julie had ever been there.
She followed the scent, two orderlies hurrying after her, trying to match her stride. Through the public room, through the reception and into the terrace garden she went, the scent progressively weakening until she got to the rose garden where, apart from around Julie’s favorite bench, it vanished.
“She’s gone.”
The two orderlies looked at each other. “That’s what we’ve been telling you.” Felicia waved them to silence.
“Where is she?” she asked, not looking at them. “Where is the woman who sat here every day?”
“She left. All her stuff. Lock, stock and barrel.” The second orderly backed off a step when she turned to him, her gaze unfocused.
“I’m not talking to you.” Felicia turned away again. “No one? No one saw what happened to her? What use are you all?”
One of the men nudged the other and tipped his head toward the building. The second nodded and they began to edge back inside.
“She’s listened to you for years. Years. And not one of you saw what happened to her yesterday? Where did she go? Who took her?”
“Yo
u did.”
Felicia spun. The matron was standing in the doorway. “I saw you myself. We have your signature on the papers. Everything was in order. I don’t know what’s happened to your sister since yesterday but when she left the hospital she was alive and well and in your care.”
Chapter 14
Felicia burst into Meinwen’s shop, causing the older woman to drop a box of semi-precious stones. “It’s Julie.” Her heart thumped against her rib cage. Any harder and it would be out. “She’s disappeared.”
“From the hospital?” Meinwen left the box and hugged her.
“Yes.” Felicia couldn’t stop the tears from spilling. “I went to get her released this morning and they said I collected her yesterday.” She dragged a tissue across her cheeks. “You’d think I’d remember.”
“Of course you didn’t collect her yesterday. You were here all afternoon.”
“I know.” Felicia took a deep breath to calm herself. “I’ve no idea who really took her or why. I’m worried sick. Taliel–”
“Your grounded-angel grandfather?”
“That’s right. He left a message saying she was in danger, and now she’s gone.”
“What about that man who asked about her? Might he have taken her?”
“He might. Mother said she saw him at the hospital. He was with a woman.”
“And now your mother’s dead.”
“It can’t be a coincidence, can it?”
“I’d have to say no.” Meinwen chewed at her lip. “Be careful, though. He sounds dangerous.”
“You’re forgetting something.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m dangerous too.”
Meinwen laughed. “I hadn’t forgotten, but you don’t know what you’re dealing with. He could be another demon.”
“Or an angel.” Felicia grimaced. “I met one of those last night. He nearly killed my vampire friend. I’m sure he would have killed me as well.”
“No!” Meinwen sat. “What happened?”
“We were poking around Mother’s house when he attacked. Gillian saved my life but we only got away because the police heard the commotion. I don’t think he wanted to be seen.”
“But who could see an angel? Apart from you, I mean.”
Felicia shrugged. “He probably wasn’t willing to take the risk. I’m glad, anyway, else I’d have been dead too.”
* * * *
Felicia went into the gallery by the back door, collected the mail from the front but did not switch on the lights. She dropped the letters on her desk and went straight upstairs to speak to Harold.
She looked respectable again, having taken a few minutes at Meinwen’s to repair the makeup that had slipped down her face from crying. Jasfoup was in the kitchen, this time doing nothing more taxing than looking at a map of the area.
Felicia knocked on the door frame. “Mr. Jasfoup? Is Harold about?”
“Yes.” Jasfoup covered the map. “Have you tried the office?”
“Not yet. I always try the kitchen first. He’s usually in here.”
“True.” Jasfoup smiled. “I’m sorry for your loss. I read it in the paper this morning. I’m surprised you’ve come in, to be frank. Most people would have left their shop closed.”
“Thank you. I intend to, actually. That’s what I wanted to speak to Harold about.”
“Was it? That’s understandable. Is there something else? You look as if you’re about to burst into tears.”
“There is, actually.” Felicia sat. “My sister’s disappeared from the hospital. I think she’s been abducted.”
Jasfoup patted her hand. “Are you sure? You’ve been under a lot of stress lately.”
“Of course I’m sure. Do you think I’m stupid?”
“No but the mind plays tricks sometimes.” He looked around the kitchen. “Would you like tea?”
“I don’t have time. Thanks for the offer, though.”
He stood. “I’m making one anyway, so if you change your mind...” He let the offer hang.
She shook her head. “I don’t really drink tea. It stains your teeth.”
“Yours, perhaps.” Jasfoup sniffed. “Don’t say I didn’t offer.” He began to set out two mugs, and as he turned she caught sight of two smoky protuberances from his shoulder blades.
Felicia couldn’t help staring.
“Mr. Jasfoup? You’ve got something on your back.”
“Have I?” Jasfoup craned his neck and brushed at his shoulder. “What is it? Bird muck?”
“No.” Felicia coughed to clear her throat. “Wings.”
“Ah.” Jasfoup returned to the table. “I think it’s time we had a little talk. I’ll fetch Harold. Do take a seat.”
Harold looked his usual self, though he hadn’t combed his hair and his suit looked a little crumpled, as if he hadn’t taken it off since the day before. What was different, though, was the creature he brought with him, an almost exact replica of the one that Julie carried on her shoulder. Not the same one–it was a different shade of gray.
“Hello Harold.” Felicia crossed her arms. “What is that thing I’m seeing? I take it that’s the rat I saw last week?”
“Devious is an imp and he was quite offended to be mistaken for a rat.” Harold narrowed his eyes. “Who were you with on Friday night?”
“That’s a bit personal, isn’t it?” Felicia looked between the two of them. “Just who, or what, are you?”
Harold shrugged. “I’m mostly an average Joe and Jasfoup here is a minor demon.”
“Less of the ‘minor’, if you don’t mind.” The demon added milk to the cups.
Harold ignored him. “What’s more to the point is, what are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s a wolf.”
Felicia jumped as the imp spoke next to her ear. “How the hell did it move that fast?”
“Devious travels by demon gate because he’s too idle to walk.”
Felicia scratched at the place the thing had touched, feeling the scab of the love bite. “I was bitten on Friday night, but by a lover. Do you think she...they infected me?”
“Undoubtedly.” Jasfoup looked at her. “What’s more to the point is how well you handle yourself. Gillian speaks quite highly of you.”
“Gillian?” Felicia frowned. “You know Gillian?”
Harold nodded and stirred the teapot. “She’s my partner. Didn’t she mention it?”
“No.” Felicia hesitated. “She painted those oils downstairs?”
Harold grinned. “That’s right. They took her ages. Ruined one of my suits too. That’s a good piece of cloth I’ll never see again.” He passed Felicia a cup of tea.
“I didn’t want tea.”
“You should take some. It’s good after a shock.”
“I should be drinking gallons of it then.”
“I concur. Sugar?”
“Please.”
“Help yourself.” He passed her the spoon. The handle felt red-hot. She yelled and dropped it again.
“See?” Devious cackled. “Werewolf. It’s a silver spoon.”
“You had to test it, didn’t you?” Felicia stood and backed away from the table. She glared at the imp. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“He’s not supposed to be. He’s demon kin.” Jasfoup reached forward and touched her eyelids. Everything came into a sharp, sudden focus, and Felicia froze in horror.
“You’re a demon too.”
Harold frowned. “Didn’t we just tell you that?” He turned to Jasfoup. “Didn’t we?”
“We did.”
Felicia cringed and backed away. “What did you do to me?”
“Just gave you the Sight.” The demon sipped his tea. “It’s a temporary spell but you might as well get used to it. Yours will develop soon enough.”
“I don’t want to get used to it. What are you doing here? Are you taking over the world?”
Jasfoup cringed. “Certainly not! Think of the paperwork.”
Harold picked up the sugar spoon. “We’re people. Just like you.”
“Only not werewolves. That’s something to be grateful for.”
Felicia concentrated on the pine table, using the grain as a mandala to help calm herself down. Meinwen had given her one from Tibet last year. It had given her the willies. When her heart had stopped threatening to leap out of her chest, she looked up. “This is too bizarre.”
“You seem awfully calm for someone who’s just met a demon.” Harold reached across and touched her arm. His hands felt remarkably cool and smelled of cinnamon. “Aren’t you afraid he’ll bite your head off?”
Felicia shook her head. “After what I’ve seen recently, a demon is the least of my problems. I think my mother was killed by an angel.”
“An angel?” Jasfoup frowned. “Why?”
“There was this thing in her house that looked like a man made of fire. I assumed it was a demon, but after last night I’m not so sure. I think it was after me.”
“What angels appear as fire, Jasfoup?” Harold raised his eyebrows. “Cherubim?”
“Any of them, really.” Jasfoup shrugged. “Fire is the closest element to what they’re made of. You didn’t catch its name, by any chance?”
Felicia frowned. “Elizabeth. Mum called it Elizabeth. She said a girl drove her home from the hospital and stayed the night.”
Jasfoup shook his head. “I don’t know any angels called Elizabeth. Do you, Harold?”
“It seems unlikely.” Harold sipped his tea.
“I think it was after me. The one last night was. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for Gillian.”
“You need some security. I never thought to ward the gallery when I did this place.”
Jasfoup nodded. “You need an alarm system to warn you about portals opening. I’ll have a look into that.”
“You could ask my lad to design you one.” Devious helped himself to Felicia’s mug. “Delirious would be able to knock something up.”
Harold gave a snort of laughter. “You could certainly ask him but you should see the plumbing he did in my bathroom first.”
“Is Delirious another imp?” Felicia took a proper look at Devious. The only way she could comprehend it was if she thought of it as a child’s toy. A child’s toy from an adult-rated horror film, perhaps, but still...
