by Helen Harper
‘I’ll say it again,’ Fake Eve said, with a furious toss of her head. ‘Who are you?’
My lips moved but no sound came out. She laughed at me. ‘Can’t talk, can you?’ There was a definite sneer to her voice. That really bugged me.
She might have been a talented witch but she didn’t know everything. As she patted me down, looking for some kind of identification in my pockets, she didn’t realise that I was still able – just – to move my thumbs. What most witches don’t know is that having opposable thumbs isn’t only handy for fashioning tools. It can also be very helpful for magic. It is generally believed that performing runes requires at least four fingers and a thumb. I smiled smugly to myself. The Order don’t know everything. I’d been literally twiddling my thumbs one afternoon when I discovered entirely the opposite.
Using swift surreptitious movements to avoid alerting her, I twirled one thumb and sketched out a brief figure of eight with the other. It was hardly elegant and wouldn’t win me any prizes in a magic competition but it served my needs very well. Drawing in the magic that Fake Eve had used against me, I pulled the energy together and flung it back at her. As I fell to the floor, finally released from the invisible force that was holding me up, she was slammed back into the window and glued there spread-eagled like a squashed fly. Ha! Take that, witchy woman!
I limped over to the man and bent down to check him. He was still breathing. That was something, at least. I ran my hands over his body, unable to see any broken bones. Pursing my lips, I went into the kitchen to find something to tie them up with. Eventually I came across a long extension cord in one of Eve’s drawers. Struggling against the man’s weight, I heaved him into a sitting position and wrapped the cord round his wrists. Fake Eve glared at me the entire time but I ignored her. Her turn would come. I fashioned a gag for the man out of a dishcloth and added a few magical flourishes in case he happened to be Houdini and could wriggle his way free. Then I pulled off Eve’s curtain ties and stood in front of the woman. Her eyes spat fire.
‘Three,’ I said, watching her carefully. ‘Two. One.’ Nothing happened. I’d mistimed it. A second later, the spell wore off and she slumped to the floor. I reached down swiftly before she could react and looped the ties round her wrists and her feet, ensuring that the magic encircling her was even stronger than it was for her partner. Then I dragged her over to him so they were back to back.
By the time I’d found a suitable gag to keep Fake Eve quiet, the man was coming around. He blinked his eyes, patently confused for a few seconds. Then he turned his head and caught sight of me grinning at him. He seemed even more astonished than I was that I’d bested the pair of them.
I eyed the hapless duo. Burglars taking advantage of a temporarily empty property were one thing – but these witches were something else entirely. I hunkered down until I was eye to eye with the man. ‘Who are you?’ I asked softly.
He struggled against his bonds. ‘Mmmph.’
I dismissed his attempt at an answer. ‘Don’t worry,’ I told him airily. ‘I’ll find out.’ I reached inside his jacket and pulled out his wallet. There, for all the world to see, was his Order ID card. ‘Matthew Bell End.’
‘Mmmph!’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. Matthew Bellham.’ I grinned. ‘Easy mistake to make.’ I placed my fingers under his chin and forced him to look at me. ‘Now why is the Order breaking into the flat of one of their own?’
He pressed his lips together and looked away.
‘Ve haf vays of making you talk,’ I said, with what I hoped was a menacing air.
Unfortunately, he called my bluff. ‘Go on, then.’
I leant back and examined him. The frown line in his forehead was growing more pronounced by the second. He wasn’t scared but he was concerned. I rubbed my chin, stood up and went over to his partner. I patted her down, looking for identification. Clearly, she was a bit smarter than frowny Matt as she didn’t carry anything with her name on it. She did, however, have five carefully separated ziplock bags of dried herbs: rosemary, bakuli pods, tansy, sweetpea and something unidentifiable. I opened the bag and took a careful sniff before recoiling. Yeuch. That was pungent.
Yanking down her gag, I asked, ‘What are these for?’
‘I’m a keen cook.’
‘Really.’
‘Yeah,’ she sneered. ‘Really.’
I tossed the bags to the side. Whatever spell she’d been planning, it was obviously dubious. I’d look it up later. I could only surmise that it was designed to harm Eve in some way – and that made me very pissed off. ‘Who are you?’ I demanded. ‘Are you with the Order too?’
‘What’s it to you?’ she snarled, meeting aggression with aggression. ‘Who the hell are you anyway?’
This woman was all fire and brimstone. No doubt she was smarting at being taken down by someone half her size. Deciding to try a different approach, I pasted on a wide-mouthed smile. ‘I’m Ivy,’ I beamed. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Let us go. You’ll be sorry if you don’t.’
I was already sorry. Goodness only knew what I was going to do with this pair. There were spells I could use to encourage verbosity and elicit the truth about why they were here but they took time to prepare and I didn’t have the right herbs. I doubted Eve had them hanging around her flat either. Those kind of things were generally only used by Third Level Order geeks because their inherent danger precluded all but the most skilled from not leaving their subjects as drooling vegetables. Civilised society tended to frown upon such actions.
I could call the police and let them deal with the problem but they’d probably pass the couple over to the Order. And until I knew why the Order had sent them in the first place, or whether they were working alone, I wasn’t going to trust any witch, from the Ipsissimus to Adeptus Exemptus Winter to the newest Neophyte.
I left them where they were and wandered out of Eve’s flat into the corridor. Harold was at the far end, his pupils dilated and his hackles still raised. ‘I know,’ I soothed. ‘But you don’t need to worry. The nasty people are all tied up and won’t hurt you.’
He didn’t even blink.
‘I don’t know who they are,’ I continued. ‘But until I do, I don’t want them to get away. Eve wouldn’t want them to get away.’ I raised my eyebrows pointedly. ‘They might have hurt her.’ Harold just stared at me. ‘It would be fabulous if you could stay inside and keep an eye on them. Only for a day or two.’ I paused. ‘For Eve.’
His nose twitched. For a moment it was touch and go whether he’d turn tail and run or do as I asked. Fortunately, he chose the latter and padded slowly towards me. He slunk back inside, hissed once in the burglars’ direction and settled down on a nearby cushion.
I clapped my hands. ‘Perfect.’ With Harold watching them, I’d have the time to work out what to do with them. Alternatively, someone else might come looking for them and I’d get a better idea of who they were. I grinned. Delegation was a wonderful thing.
Chapter Six
It was the loud thumping which eventually woke me. I blearily opened my eyes and realised I was still on the sofa. A trail of drool drooped from the corner of my mouth to the cushion next to my head and my neck was aching.
I hauled myself up and rubbed my eyes. It was still dark so there was no earthly reason why anyone would be at my door – unless it was the police wanting to know why I’d tied up two people and was keeping them hostage in my neighbour’s flat.
Yawning and squinting, I pulled the duvet round me and went to unfasten the lock. Winter was standing there with a glower on his face. He looked immaculate, without a hair out of place. Irritatingly, he was also wide-awake and raring to go. ‘Come on,’ he snapped. ‘We need to leave.’
I stared at him.
‘What’s the matter?’ he enquired. ‘Have you lost the ability to speak?’
‘My brain doesn’t compute the words that are coming out of your mouth,’ I told him, wiping the side of my face t
o rid myself of the worst of my saliva.
‘I’m speaking English,’ he said icily.
‘You said to meet you at dawn. It’s still dark.’
He gazed at me as if I were mad. I was starting to think I might be. Maybe this was a hallucination. I poked him in the chest to double check that he really was there. Bloody hell, his body felt rock hard.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Just checking,’ I mumbled. ‘I hoped you were a figment of my imagination.’
‘Clearly I am not.’
‘Clearly.’ I turned on my heel, leaving him where he was, and stumbled into my bedroom. I flopped onto the bed and heaved my duvet over me. I had barely a moment’s grace, however.
‘Get up,’ he ordered from somewhere overhead.
‘Go away.’
‘It is time to get moving. I didn’t say I’d meet you at dawn, I said we were starting in the gym at dawn. If I left you to your own devices, you’d show up several hours late. This way, by the time we get there the sun will be rising and we’ll be bang on time.’
Not only was he an early morning freak, it also appeared he was Mister Pedantic. I didn’t even bother answering. I needed more sleep. A moment later, I heard his footsteps as he walked away. Excellent. Normal people did not wake up at this hour. Winter needed to realise that I wasn’t going to be pushed around. I sighed happily and snuggled further in. Then the duvet was whipped off and something very wet and very cold splashed across my face.
‘What the—’ I sat up, spluttering. It happened again. Coughing and choking, I leapt out of bed towards him, droplets of water flying everywhere. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
‘You’ve got ten minutes,’ he said shortly, placing the now empty glass of water on the bedside table. ‘Then we are leaving.’
‘This is my house!’ I howled. ‘Who do you think you are?’
‘Our work is very serious. We could be given an assignment at any moment, Ms Wilde. We need to be ready.’
I drew myself up, thoroughly pissed off. ‘It’s not our work. It’s your work. I’m the one saving your skin by helping out, so I think it’s time you showed me some respect. You can’t barge into my home and chuck cold water all over me just because you’re a sado-masochistic bastard with a hard-on for self-flagellation. This is assault!’
A muscle jerked in his jaw. ‘I think you’re taking things too far. You’re hardly in any pain.’
‘What about psychological damage?’
‘At this rate, I’m the one who’s going to be psychologically damaged from our relationship. Besides,’ he added with the faintest touch of smugness, ‘you’re now obviously wide-awake. Change your clothes and let’s get a move on.’
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to go shove it. If my bed hadn’t been soaking wet and my neck hadn’t hurt from crashing out on the sofa, I probably would have done but I could hardly go back to sleep now. Instead I counted to ten and crossed my arms. ‘You can’t treat me like this,’ I told him, forcing myself to breathe deeply and calm down. ‘I’m not in the Order. I’m not your minion. You know very well I’m doing you a favour by helping you out.’
His expression shuttered. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to realise the error of his ways. ‘Would you have made it to the Order gym by dawn if I weren’t here?’
‘I might have.’
Winter all but laughed in my face. ‘If I wasn’t here, you’d sleep for the next three hours. This is the best time to be awake. Your body is at its optimum energy levels. The earlier in the day we train, the faster we can accelerate your progress.’
I held up my hand to stall his pointless excuses. ‘Neither of us wants to be in this situation but I understand we have to make the best of it until the binding can be removed. But I’m not an army grunt and you know this will go much better if we can get along. You seem to have decided that everything will fall apart unless you chivvy me along all the time. We’ve not even started working together yet and I’m already beginning to hate you. If you want to drag me around kicking and screaming everywhere you go, you’re going about it the right way. If you want my cooperation and help then you’re going to have to change. Maybe I would have made it to the gym by dawn, maybe I wouldn’t. But you decided I was going to fail before I even had the chance to try.’
For a moment I wasn’t sure if he was going to magic up another glass of water to douse me with, or yell at me to give him ten for daring to challenge his authority. He drew in a breath and met my eyes. ‘You are right. I apologise for jumping to conclusions and for throwing water over you. It was ungentlemanly of me and unprofessional.’
My mouth almost fell open. As impressive as my speech had been at this time of the morning, it was obvious I’d never have made it to the stupid gym. And the last thing I’d expected Winter to do was apologise. ‘Well, then,’ I blustered. ‘That’s settled.’
He nodded once. ‘How did you know?’ he asked.
‘Know what?’
‘About my military background.’
I coughed. I really didn’t want him to know I’d been checking up on him. ‘It was a guess. You look the type.’
He watched me. ‘I never enlisted but my father is an officer. I grew up surrounded by the army and sometimes I forget how different civilian life can be.’
I sniffed. ‘I get it.’
‘Tell me again if I overstep the mark.’
This was going much better than I expected. I snapped out a sloppy salute. ‘Yes, sir!’
Winter’s eyes glittered and he leant towards me. ‘Oh, but Ivy?’
‘Mm?’
‘This doesn’t make me a soft touch. Our job is vital and I won’t let anything compromise the security of the Order or of this country. You will train and you will work and you won’t necessarily enjoy either.’
I registered the sincerity of his gaze. He truly loved his job and I felt uncomfortably that he very much had my measure. He’d realised that the stick approach wasn’t going to work. His proffered carrot, however, was laced with tempered steel. Despite backing down, Raphael Winter was no pushover.
‘Gotcha.’ I thought of Eve’s burglars – not to mention Harold who was probably getting hungry by now. I should probably check on them all. I grinned at Winter. ‘Give me fifteen minutes and then I’ll meet you downstairs.’
‘Ten minutes.’
Arse.
If I’d thought that other people believed this was too early to be out and about, I’d forgotten about the zeal of the Order members. Even though Winter and I arrived barely after dawn, the gym was still half full. Judging by the sweat on some of the faces around us, there were witches here who’d been working out for hours.
‘Treadmill,’ Winter barked. ‘We’ll start with a comfortable jog to warm you up.’
Horror settled in my bones. Since when was a jog ever comfortable? A slow stroll perhaps, preferably in broad sunshine with an ice-cream in my hand. Before I could begin to suggest we started more sedately, he shoved me onto a machine and started jabbing the buttons. ‘Hey!’ I protested. ‘That’s too fast!’
‘It’s barely a walk.’
‘But…’
He glared. ‘Continue complaining and I’ll increase the speed.’
I gritted my teeth. ‘I don’t see,’ I said, already beginning to pant, ‘how jogging is going to make me a better witch.’
‘How will you run down a suspect if you can’t run?’ Winter retorted.
The last thing I planned on doing was running anywhere. ‘I’ll zap him between the ears to stop him.’
‘A good Order witch never relies on magic alone,’ he chided.
I’d have reminded him that I wasn’t a good Order witch but it was impossible to talk. I found it difficult to believe that people did this kind of thing for fun. It didn’t help that, every minute or so, Winter increased the speed. In the mirror opposite I saw my face growing redder and redder. I was fairly certain I was about to have an aneurysm when he
gave me a break and stopped the treadmill.
‘Thank the heavens,’ I wheezed. ‘Can I take a shower now?’
There was a glint of amusement in his eyes. ‘We’ve not even finished the warm-up yet.’
‘I hate you.’
He smiled. ‘You must have come here when you were a Neophyte.’
I like to think I had more sense. ‘I was busy,’ I said shortly, as he directed me to some terrifying contraption with heavy weights attached to its back.
‘Cheating?’ he asked mildly.
I grunted. ‘Amongst other things.’ I felt Winter’s cool eyes on me and changed the subject. ‘What does this do? It looks like some ancient torture device.’
‘It will help your upper arm strength. You’ll love it.’
Somehow I doubted that.
Winter adjusted the weight and corrected my posture. ‘We’ll start with ten reps,’ he told me.
I began to lift. Ten? I’d be lucky to manage two. ‘I need water,’ I told him.
He flicked me a frustrated look. ‘You didn’t bring a water bottle?’
‘I didn’t have time.’
He sighed, as if all this were a great imposition. He should put himself in my shoes. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Wait here.’
‘Where else am I going to go?’ He threw me a narrow look and I smiled sunnily. ‘Thank you, Adeptus Exemptus Winter. You’re the best.’
‘Don’t push it,’ he growled.
I smirked. As soon as he turned away, I got to work. I reached back, focusing on the weights. This was a series of runes I’d used on many occasions. I hated lugging customers’ bags in and out of the taxi, especially when they had heavy suitcases. Some people expected it; some demanded it because they enjoyed watching a girl heave their stuff around. There was a simple way around it. By the time Winter returned with a cup of water, I was all set to go.
I took the cup from him, drained it and smacked my lips. ‘Thanks!’
