by Nhys Glover
Jake turned to me, his gaze steely. “Someone was already inside. Someone who could easily have placed bugs in the three places where he knew most conversations took place.”
I swallowed several times, feeling sick. “You mean Mason planted the bugs when he was here? You think Mason is with them? But he was horrified by what was done to my pets!”
“Just because he didn’t hurt your animals, or even condone the action, doesn’t mean he wasn’t working with the people who did it,” Jason argued, already on the same page as Jake.
“How much footage is there of my place?” I asked, suddenly panicking that the police might watch it and see something that gave us away.
“It started last Friday,” Jason answered, his expression tight.
“There would have been recordings of us discussing Andrews’ death, even your visit yesterday,” Jake said thoughtfully.
“That’s not a problem. Though the footage is evidence, it won’t be viewed, beyond the identification of the premises being surveilled. It’s an invasion of privacy. I was more worried about the recording of the phone call to you Sunday evening. It revealed Andrews didn’t say all the things you told us he did. But, oddly enough, that recording was damaged before any but one member of the force could hear it.”
Jake’s eyes widened. “You doctored it? That’s dangerous.”
“Just enough to make it unclear what Andrews discussed with you. There’d be too many questions if I’d left it,” Jason admitted, none too pleased with himself.
“So where does that leave us?” I asked uncertainly.
“If the blood on the shirt and nightstick turns out to be Andrews’ then, combined with the evidence of his illegal surveillance, it becomes an open and shut case. Watkins heard that you knew about the threats and the siphoning off of your assets, and he came to stop Andrews from handing over the Life Insurance documents.
“If his aim was to make you sell the house, then you gaining access to the insurance money would have made their goal more difficult to achieve. You were already fighting them, so they killed Andrews. Sorry, he killed Andrews. At this stage no one else is implicated. Though it’s clear he wasn’t acting alone.”
“Will this stop them?” I asked, sickened by the lengths these madmen would go for power. Illusory power.
“I don’t know. I really don’t. If I put the fear of God into Smart, and you don’t allow him access any longer, they’d have to realise their plan is no longer viable. But there may be more irons in their fire that we don’t as yet know about.”
“Why would Mason do it? He’s a respected academic,” I murmured, still not able to get my head around the betrayal. I’d trusted him implicitly. Well, up until the very end. By then I’d started to see through him a little.
Jason frowned, studying my face as if trying to gauge just how much more I could take. He must have decided I was stronger than I appeared because he shared more damning information with me.
“When we were doing background checks on Smart, we discovered there was no Mason Smart working at Cambridge University. No one knew who we were talking about, and when a search was carried out on their site and his page discovered... Well, let’s say a few IT heads are rolling in Cambridge right now.”
“Mason hacked the university’s website?” I exclaimed in amazed horror.
I remembered how Mason had sat at the kitchen table handling the Logos carelessly, even drinking tea as he read it. I’d wondered at that. It was not the behaviour of an expert used to handling rare books. But in every other way he’d seemed perfect.
Had he even translated the cuneiform on the Goddess? Had he any legitimate knowledge of Celtic Pre-History at all?
Jake placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, rubbing it a little.
Suddenly a horrifying thought struck. If there was surveillance in the library then the Watkins family knew where the Logos and Book of Shadows were hidden.
An even worse idea came to mind. Why would they need the books if they had photos of the pages? I’d never thought to warn Mason not to photograph the pages as he’d done with the cuneiform and the paintings on the walls. Dear Lord, they knew as much as we did about the Way! No, more. Because Mason had likely been studying it for days and only feeding me the extraneous details. Just enough to keep me satisfied.
“What?” Jason asked, picking up on my distress.
“I was worried he’d want the books, but if Mason photographed all the pages, then they don’t need the original sources.”
“But knowing what spells to use doesn’t mean they can cast them properly. They need to be able to pronounce them.” Jake pointed out soothingly.
I shook my head. “We aren’t the only Keepers on the planet. Bryce’s father was a Scottish Keeper, remember? He taught Bryce’s mother how to pronounce the spells. What if that Keeper is with them? Or was bribed or threatened to reveal what he knew... Oh, God, what if Bryce’s father was forced to reveal the pronunciations before being killed. Maybe he never left his wife and kids at all. What if Bryce’s mother didn’t die of an accidental overdose?” My voice had become an plaintive cry by the end of my thoughts.
My gaze landed on Jake. Following that line of argument, had Jake’s father, Jason’s uncle, died for what he knew? Maybe he’d been enticed to join the Watkinses and then been killed for some reason.
No, there was no evidence that Jake’s father was a Smith or that he was dead. Or that he had any involvement in this. I’d just put the two disappearances together in my head. I was finding Commies under the bed again. Paranoia was a dangerous thing.
The trouble was, the deeper we went, the more unstable the ground felt beneath me. I would never have believed Mason would bug my house or lie about who he was. But all evidence pointed to him doing just that. So who said he was the only one on the enemy’s side. What if Jake was too?
But no. He came here with a legitimate problem, and Squib was certainly not part of some scheme to hoodwink me. And if Jake had been on Mason’s side he would hardly have opposed him from the very start, would he? It was Jake who’d suspected Mason first, just as Mason had suspected Jake.
What if there was yet another party involved in all this? Maybe Jake’s father got wind of what the Watkinses were doing and decided he wanted the payoff, so he found his son, had him tattooed so his clairaudience was awakened, and then placed him strategically in the area to win me over?
No, no, no, that was ridiculous. I groaned and pressed my hands into my temples. I was going insane.
Jake wrapped an arm around my shoulder and began whispering calming nothings into my ear.
“I think you’re jumping too far ahead. We have no evidence to support your idea that Mrs Mitchell’s daughter and son-in-law were killed. He was probably a drug user living pretty close to the edge,” Jason said.
“Mrs Mitchell said her daughter didn’t start using until after he disappeared. When Bryce was very young. Danielle is sixteen and Bryce thirteen, so their dad was on the scene for at least four or five years. He married their mother, even if she didn’t take his name, so he must have cared about her,” I argued, trying to avoid my doubts about Jake.
Jason considered my words for a moment. “I can make some inquiries. But I wouldn’t hold your breath. They might not have even put in a missing person’s report on him.”
“I think we have to take the win and not bite off more than we can chew right now,” Jake said, more to me than Jason. “Their plot’s unravelled what with at least two of Watkins’ crew up on charges. You have enough to charge Smart too, I assume. He had to have been the one to plant the bugs. I say we focus on the dragon. That’s summat that needs to be dealt with right soon.”
Jason nodded his agreement. I dragged my mind back from the edge and nodded my agreement as well.
“I learned a lot this afternoon,” I told them. “Mason was obviously keeping me from the important information in the Logos, because it was all there, once I started reading. I know which spell w
e need and how we can catch and contain it.”
Jason’s good-looking face lit up with excitement. “Really? That’s great news. When do we do this?”
It was Wednesday. The full moon lasted three days and reached its peak tomorrow. If it was possible, carrying out the spell in the next two days would be optimal, but not necessary.
“Tomorrow or Friday. Have we any updates about its location? After all, that will determine when we can do it. The dragon will need to be inside the energetic net we cast.”
Jason scrubbed a hand through his short dark hair. “No, nothing. Specialists in behavioural analysis from down south have been sent for, in the hope of identifying the kind of person we’re looking for. Every known arsonist in the area is being interviewed. And it’s attracting national media coverage as well. Which only makes staying under the radar that much harder for us.”
That our fires had attracted national media attention surprised me. Not that I would have known about it, given I rarely stepped outside my home or watched TV. Up here the world could be coming to an end and I wouldn’t be any the wiser. But Bryce would have told me. Why hadn’t I heard from the boy since Sunday? Maybe his grandmother was keeping him away, now she’d made contact with us herself. Things were getting dangerous, after all. A man had been killed!
“How do we need to do it, once we locate the creature?” Jason asked.
“We blend our blood in a blessed caldron, and use it to draw sigils on our bodies somewhere. Then we spread out to form a circle around the area where the dragon is located. It can be up to a mile in diameter, if necessary. But as we chant the spell we move in towards the centre, until we’ve got it snared. Then we have to move with it to the opening. Another spell will suck it back through the gateway, and then the wards on the standing stone will be refreshed with yet another spell.”
“The further away from the opening it goes, the further we have to walk to bring it back,” Jason mused. “And the more obvious we’ll all look to anyone seeing us.”
“If we do it at night we’re less likely to be seen.”
“But how do we space ourselves equally around a circle that big when we can’t see each other?”
Jake dug out his phone. “I’ve got a GPS app. If we work out where each person needs to be and everyone gets the app, then it should be easy. We can enter the gateway’s location as well, for the homeward journey”
“Is that what people use when they do those geo-caching treasure hunts?” Jason asked with interest, taking a look at Jake’s phone. I assumed it didn’t have reception right now as my house was notoriously lacking a mobile signal. You had to get further up the moor to pick it up properly.
“What about the fact you can’t get reception a lot of the time,” I pointed out.
Jake frowned. “Hmm, that could be a problem.”
“What about hand-held GPS devices. Walkers use them,” Jason suggested. “They use satellite coverage, which is more reliable.”
“They aren’t cheap,” Jake pointed out.
Jason grinned. “Leave that to me. I have my sources.”
“I’ll need to get the twelve people together tomorrow to teach them the spells,” I said, everything suddenly feeling overwhelming.
“What about if you record the spells with the correct pronunciation, and I get it to those who’ll be involved? That way we can all practice as it suits us. It’d be less obvious than gathering a dozen people out here. We’re still keeping an eye on you, by the way. Moore’s concerned for your safety.”
Actually, the idea of recording the spells sounded like a great idea. I’d be a lot less nervous that way. And if I got it wrong, I could always re-record the parts that weren’t quite right. Daphne could act as quality control.
“I can do that. Can I record on your phone, Jake?” I asked him.
My mobile didn’t have any special bells and whistles on it. And if we wanted to send out the sound file it would be better to use a phone.
Jake nodded.
“Good then. I guess I know what I’ll be doing in the morning.”
Jason saw that as a polite way to call our meeting to an end. He stood and headed for the front door.
“If you’re recording, using a phone, I’ll send you a list of numbers you can send the file to. I’ll let those who’ll be receiving it know to learn the spells fast. As soon as we have some indication of the creature’s whereabouts we’ll take action. In the meantime, I’ll get hand-held GPS devices out to everybody and make sure they know how to use them.”
“And the bugs in the house?” Jake asked, trailing behind us.
“You can look for them if you want, but we’ve dismantled the monitoring equipment, so you’re no longer being recorded.”
“That’s good to know,” Jake grunted.
I couldn’t agree more. I kept trying to play back what I’d said or done in each of the locations over the last four or five days. It was an impossible task.
Chapter Twelve
Once I’d closed the front door, I leaned against it and closed my eyes. I felt Jake move in to press against me, enclosing me within his arms as he lowered his head to nuzzle my neck. Even though I still had doubts about him—about everyone, if I was honest—my body responded to his. I felt safe for the first time since discovering Mason had betrayed me.
“How are you?” Jake asked into my ear, sending goose-bumps exploding all over my skin.
“Not good. I feel... violated. Mason came into my home, pretending to be someone he wasn’t, pretending to have feelings for me, putting up roadblocks in my path, and placing bugs in my home. He betrayed me in the worst ways. And though he might not have been the one who killed Rex, he knew who did. He was working with that person. It makes me sick...” I heard the sob in my voice before I realised I was crying again.
I was such a watering can.
Jake rubbed his bristly cheek against mine, the soft abrasion pleasantly stimulating. “You threw him out when you started to sense he wasn’t what he seemed. I think that says a lot. He had me fooled.”
I drew back a little. “No, he didn’t. You warned me right from the start what he was doing.”
He let out a disgusted huff that sent more sensations skittering down my neck. “That was all crap. I just said whatever came into my head because I was jealous.”
My heart missed a beat. “Jealous?”
He laughed humourlessly. “Right from the moment I met him. He was everything I’m not, and it was obvious you thought highly of him. He seemed to fancy you too, so aye, I was jealous.”
“I still don’t understand why someone like you would be interested in me. I’m not your type,” I managed to say, wanting to quell my doubts about him, but not quite able to.
Mason’s betrayal had only served to accentuate my insecurities. He’d been more my type and had said he cared about me, but it had all turned out to be a lie. What if Jake’s feelings were a lie too?
He trailed a gentle kiss across my cheek. “You aren’t my type. That’s how you got under my guard.”
“I’m fat. A big posh cow, remember?”
He groaned. “Am I never going to live that down? I was talkin’ to my boss, who thought I was shackin’ up with you. I had to put him off your trail. I didn’t mean it. I told you I didn’t mean it.”
He had. But it still stung.
“The night I put you to bed. Sunday, wasn’t it? The days are all drifting into each other. I looked down at your curvy near-naked body and wondered how I’d ever thought you were over-weight. I blame it on your clothes. Baggy stuff like this hides the curves, making you look like a solid block. But with your narrow waist, you actually have an hourglass figure.”
His hands were on that waist now, running up and down it, not quite touching the underside of my breasts, but coming close.
“Do you know how much sleep I’ve lost because of seeing you that night? Imagining touching these curves, slipping into the moist core of you with my fingers..., my tongue..., my
cock...”
As he said the last part I moaned, feeling my legs give way under me.
Jake tightened his hold on me, taking my weight and pinning me to the door.
“I want you so much I ache,” he growled almost desperately.
I turned my head so our lips aligned. The only thing on my mind in that moment was feeling his mouth on mine. It didn’t matter who he was or how long he’d stay. All that mattered was loving him and feeling cared for in return. If it was all an act; if he was no better than Mason; then I’d deal with that later. But for now,... For now, I didn’t care.
His mouth was hot and slick as it mated with mine. He tasted so good... smelled so good. Using his lips, he teased me with tender sweetness until I couldn’t take it another second. I wanted more. I wanted to taste him as he’d done me.
My tentative tongue licked at his lips. Jake opened for me, inviting me in. I went a little further and marvelled at the catch in his breath and the way he began panting, as if he’d run miles. His hands began to shake as they held me. They literally shook! Amazing!
He drew back from me and pressed his forehead to mine. “I’m still not a good man, Alfie. And I can’t promise you I ever will be. Or that I’ll stay.”
He sounded defeated. Almost as if he wanted to stay.
“Is it real? What’s happening between us now?” I asked, my voice trembling.
His gaze met mine in confusion. Then it cleared.
“I’m not Mason Smart. I’m not seducing you for any other reason than I... than you mean something to me. So, aye, what’s happening is more real than anything ever has been for me.”
I nodded, believing him. “Then I don’t care about the rest. As long as you stay until the danger is over, I don’t care about the rest.”
“If we start this, I’m not sure I can stop.”
“I don’t want you to stop. I’m a twenty-four-year-old virgin who’s long overdue for deflowering. I want it to be you who does that. It might not be much fun for you the first time, but if we can do it again, the books say I’ll get better.”
