by Helen Harper
‘Don’t worry,’ he said drily. ‘We have insurance.’
Just as well. I stumbled slightly, falling against him. Maybe I did need some help. ‘Ipsissimus Collings,’ I began.
‘We’ve found him.’ Winter’s voice was grim. ‘He put up a hell of a fight.’
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the tears at bay. It almost worked. ‘He was a good man.’
Winter nodded. He didn’t say anything but I knew it was only because he couldn’t trust himself to speak. I put a hand on his arm and squeezed.
The air in front of me shimmered and Clare’s face appeared, although it was remarkably transparent. Just like Ipsissimus Collings before her, she was already being called away. Her time here was up. Funnily enough, she didn’t look in the least bit sorry about it.
‘Thank you, Ivy.’ She turned her face and glanced away as if someone was shouting her name. A smile spread across her face. ‘I have to go but I had to say thank you. All of us thank you.’
‘You’re very welcome,’ I whispered. ‘I’ll make sure no one forgets you or the rest of your coven.’
She blew me a kiss then there was the now familiar flash of bright light. The witches around us gasped. Even Tarquin fell momentarily silent.
‘And just like that,’ I said quietly, ‘she was gone.’
There was a loud snort. ‘How many times do I have to tell you, woman? There’s a queue! We need to be orderly about this!’
I smiled at Ipsissimus Grenville. ‘Would you like me to help you now? You can pass over next. You’ve been here for long enough.’
His eyes widened fractionally then he wrung his hands and looked away. ‘I would like that.’ He sighed. ‘But I will stay until all the others are taken care of.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘All of them? That could take years.’
‘Yes.’ He nodded to himself. ‘But you’ll do it. We both know you will. I have full trust in you.’ I blinked. ‘Besides,’ he continued, ‘you’ll probably need my help.’
‘You’re not going to let me get any peace, are you?’
Grenville roared. ‘My dear! Peace is for wimps!’
‘I’m a wimp,’ I pointed out.
Winter pressed his lips against my temple. ‘No, you’re not.’
‘I’m not like you,’ I protested. ‘I’m not even like Tarquin.’
‘Thank goodness,’ he murmured. ‘Besides, we all know you’re much better.’
Arse. At this rate everyone would know all of my secrets. I’d have to work harder at being lazier. Much, much harder.
Epilogue
There was a shaft of sunlight hitting the bedroom floor. At this time of day, Brutus always found it something of a dilemma. Was it better to lie in the shade but on the comfort of the bed, or to lie in the sun but on the hardness of the floor? Both spots had a lot of merit and it was a difficult choice. However, this was the sort of problem he enjoyed toying with; lately, there had been challenges of far larger import – none of which he had appreciated in the slightest.
He’d just about made the decision to choose the sunshine when the door opened and a witch walked in. Excellent. Brutus immediately flopped onto his back and rolled around in the manner that humans seemed to adore. The witch crouched down and gave him a fuss, just as Brutus wanted. He could definitely get used to this kind of lifestyle. The more minions at his beck and call, the better.
Then the witch went back to the door and heaved in a vacuum monster. Brutus shot a wistful glance at the sunbeam and skedaddled. Ivy might enjoy someone else cleaning the house on a daily basis but did they have to do it every damn day? He missed having dust bunnies to chase after, and he was no match for the vacuum monster, much as he tried to kill it when it was sleeping in the cupboard.
With some regret, Brutus abandoned the bedroom and padded off in search of another place. He was tempted to head for the garden; not only would there be plenty more sunny warm spots where he could curl up, there might be the added bonus of birds. He was feeling slightly peckish. Unfortunately, he was also fairly certain that he’d seen Princess Parma Periwinkle stroll in that direction. That was all very well but if she was running an errand for the man, she’d no doubt try to draw him into her plans.
Brutus had long since decided that work was a beast better left to others. There was a reason he had attached himself to Ivy, after all. It had taken a lot of training to make her even remotely adequate as his witch, and she still had a long way to go, but Brutus remained optimistic. If he couldn’t claw her into shape, no one could.
He wound away from the residence and out towards the main Order buildings. There was always fun to be had with the red robes. Initially he’d considered demanding a diamond-studded collar so that everyone would know who he was but collars tended to chafe. Anyway, within three days everyone knew him. If you wanted to remain scratch free, you either carried fishy treats or you stayed far away from Brutus – unless you were particularly dumb. Some humans couldn’t be trained, no matter how hard you tried. The floppy-yellow-haired one heading towards him right now was a case in point.
‘Brutus!’ Tarquin nudged his companion, who was already doing the smart thing and backing away. ‘You know whose familiar this is, of course. We were childhood sweethearts but I was bit too much for her. She couldn’t keep up with my pace so we decided to split up. She was upset about it, of course, Cried for weeks, but it was for the best. There are no hard feelings on my part. I even saved her life when I saved the Order. Between you and me, she’d leave Ipsissimus Winter in a heartbeat if I told her I’d take her back but I wouldn’t do that to him. That’s the kind of good guy I am.’
Tarquin crouched down. Brutus purred and knocked against his hands then leapt up into his arms. It was only when Tarquin had straightened back up again with an overly wide smile that Brutus acted, slashing out one paw and scratching him across his eyelid. Tarquin shrieked and dropped him. ‘You little furry bastard!’
‘You big slimy bitch,’ Brutus answered. He flicked his tail and continued on his way.
He paused in front of the library, debating whether to enter. The skinny, nervous one was quite adept at petting, not that you’d expect it to look at him, but he often got distracted by witches asking questions or by old books which caught his eye. Brutus liked the man but he wasn’t playing second fiddle to a pile of papers. Not for anyone.
In the end, he continued towards the study. The man would be delighted to see him. One day those other witches would create a warding spell that would keep Brutus out – but Brutus doubted that day would be today.
When he reached the man’s office, the door was closed. Brutus sniffed. Doors were made to be open; that was their raison d’être. Fortunately this one did its job, swinging backwards so that the tall, fit female could exit.
‘Thank you, Eve,’ the man said. ‘Will you be round later for dinner?’
She paused at the threshold. ‘Is Ivy cooking?’
There was a faint snort. ‘No.’
‘I could cook if I wanted to!’ Ivy yelled. ‘I have a microwave, you know. I’m just not going to be cooking tonight.’
Eve smiled. ‘Then, yes, I’d love to pop round.’ She glanced down. ‘Hey Brutus.’ She reached down and scratched him under his chin then sneaked a hand into her pocket and pulled out a crunchy biscuit. She placed her finger to her lips and Brutus nodded. He wasn’t an idiot; he was far more likely to get treats from others if he didn’t boast about the ones he’d already had. He snaffled it surreptitiously then made his way in.
Goody. The computer was on. Since becoming Ipsissimus, the man had designated certain areas to be magic free so that technology could be utilised and the Order could become more efficient. There had been some grumblings but the zones were clearly demarcated and there had been no explosions of any sort. Bit by bit, even the worst of the naysayers were beginning to admit that the new blood and new ideas which Ipsissimus Winter brought to the Order could be advantageous. Brutus thoroughly agreed; he le
apt onto the desk and sat down on the keyboard. It was always warm and tingly, even if it did make an annoying beeping sound when he jumped onto it.
Ivy leaned down and nudged him off. He scowled. ‘Bitch.’ Then he immediately returned to the same spot.
She sighed. ‘Why can’t we have a normal conversation?’ she asked. ‘I know you’re capable of it. What have you been up today, Brutus?’
‘Food.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Come on,’ she coaxed.
Absolutely not. This was why he’d avoided long sentences around her before. She’d want to talk; she’d want him to talk. They’d both lose out on valuable sleeping and eating time. You’d think that Ivy, of all people, would understand that but she didn’t truly understand what it meant to be lazy, not like a cat did. It was an art form; it required dedication that even humans like Ivy weren’t capable of.
The man smiled indulgently and focused on Ivy. ‘I have a proposition for you.’
Brutus perked up. That sounded interesting.
‘A new job.’
Wait a minute.
Ivy seemed to think the same. ‘Hang on,’ she said. ‘Kind of you as it is to think of me, Ipsissimus Winter, I would hate for you to be accused of nepotism. It’s probably far better if I don’t have a job. I’m really quite busy already.’
Good girl.
The man held up a finger. ‘Hear me out. Your title will be Global Phantom Solutions and Assurance Strategist.’
Ivy paused. ‘That’s a very long title.’
‘It is.’
‘I thought you said that the more complicated the job title, the less there is to do.’
He tapped the corner of his mouth. ‘I did say that, didn’t I?’
Ivy grinned. ‘Do I get my own office?’
‘If you need one.’
‘I am the only person who can talk to ghosts,’ she mused. ‘I will be providing an important service. Can I have some staff to work with me? There’ll be errands to run and curses to cancel, after all.’
‘I’m sure we can work something out.’
Brutus tutted. Ivy obviously couldn’t see what the man was doing. It was basic manipulation; before she could say Global Phantom Solutions and Assurance Strategist, she’d be working several hours a day. Well, she’d only have herself to blame.
Brutus got up and headed for the door. It wasn’t as much fun here as he’d thought it would be. ‘Open.’ When neither human sprang into action, he growled and tried again. ‘Open.’ Then, for good measure, he reached up and started clawing at the door’s surface. One long good rake along that wood and the man opened the door for him. Brutus slunk out and the door closed behind him.
He took a few steps down the corridor then paused. Actually, this was a bad idea. If he left them alone now, there was no knowing what Ivy would find herself agreeing to. He had to protect her from herself. He twisted back again and sat in front of the door, albeit now on the wrong side. ‘Open.’ No answer. ‘Open.’
Still no answer. Yet again he was forced to resort to scratching. The door swung open but neither the man nor Ivy were looking at him. Their faces were glued to each other’s. It looked remarkably uncomfortable, not to mention unhygienic. The man kicked the door shut and Brutus had to rush forward to avoid his tail getting trapped. He wasn’t going to sit here all day while those two locked their lips together. How utterly ridiculous.
He turned back to the door. If they just left the damn thing open they wouldn’t have this problem.
‘Have I told you,’ the man said, ‘that I love you?’
‘Not today,’ Ivy breathed back. ‘And I’m sure I’ve already said it to you three times.’
‘I have a lot of catching up to do then.’
‘You certainly do, Ipsissimus Winter.’
Brutus rolled his eyes. Fine. He’d wait until they were done but he was expecting some damn good treats for his patience. He bloody deserved them. He hunkered down and curled up, wrapping his tail round him. There were important naps to be taken.
Sparkle Witch
Book Four novella
Chapter One
‘Have you seen my scarf?’ I asked, managing to distract myself by gazing lasciviously at Winter’s rock-hard body. ‘It’s cold out.’
‘No. And stop changing the subject.’
‘It’s a very snuggly scarf. And I look really cute when I wear it.’
‘You look really cute whatever you wear. But you’re still changing the subject.’ His voice grew more insistent, with a touch of an imperious I’m-the-Ipsissimus-and-I-know-what’s-best-for-you tone sneaking through. ‘I think it would be a good idea for you to get involved.’
In return I put on what I was sure was my best if-only-I-had-the-time expression and sighed deeply. ‘I’d love to but I’ve got Grenville sniping constantly at me for not moving faster and releasing more spirits. And some of those ghosts have been trapped here for decades. Centuries even. I’m concerned for their well-being.’
Grenville hovered behind Winter and frowned at me. ‘Ridiculous girl! Did you not hear me say we were ahead of schedule and that you should take a break for the holiday season?’
‘Where is Grenville?’ Winter enquired. ‘I can talk to him. I might not be able to hear him but he’ll be able to hear me. He has to understand that relations with the living are as important as relations with the dead. I know he has different priorities but it’s not as if the ghosts are going anywhere.’
That was exactly what I kept saying. Instead, however, I reached up and wrapped my arms round Winter’s neck, pressing myself close to him and inhaling the deep scent of his skin. ‘I know what kind of relations I’d like,’ I purred.
For a moment he relaxed against me, one hand moving tantalizingly down my spine while his other brushed away an errant lock of frizzy hair from my cheek. He let out a small growl and bent his lips to my ear. ‘Nice try, Ivy. But if you were that busy right now you wouldn’t have spent all morning opening both our advent calendars and eating all the chocolate.’
Darn it. I thought I’d done a good job of closing each little door to make it look like the calendars were untouched. I pretended not to hear him and let my fingers trail down his chest until they were close enough to slip inside his waistband. I was rewarded with a groan.
‘For goodness’ sake!’ Grenville yelled. ‘How many times a day do you have to be intimate with this man? You’re like a pair of rutting rabbits.’
I murmured a response without thinking, the squirming delight in the pit of my stomach momentarily quashing my common sense. ‘Sex is excellent exercise.’
Winter immediately pulled back. ‘He’s here.’
I scratched my neck and made a show of looking around. ‘Who?’
He rolled his eyes in exasperation. ‘You know who. I’ve said before that we are not here to provide voyeuristic entertainment for a bunch of ghosts.’ Folding his arms across his broad chest, he gave me the look. The one that suggested he was fully aware of exactly what I was up to. Then, unable to help himself, he quirked an amused eyebrow. ‘It’s just as well. I have lots of work to do and I told Maidmont you’d meet him to discuss the arrangements.’
I pouted. ‘You just want me to dress up in a silly costume.’
Winter’s eyes gleamed and I knew he was thinking of the sexy witch ensemble I’d put on especially for him at Halloween. ‘I like seeing you in silly costumes.’
‘It can’t be any sillier than what you usually wear,’ Grenville huffed.
I glared at the ghost. ‘I am not the best person for this job. Not for miles. Besides, I’ve not seen Brutus for days. I was going to search for him and make sure he’s alright.’
‘The cat will be fine. Go talk to Maidmont and,’ Winter paused and allowed himself a slow, lazy smile, ‘we can finish this later.’
‘But Grenville…’
Winter cleared his throat and addressed the air. ‘Grenville, as the current Ipsissimus of the Hallowed Order for Magical Enlighten
ment, I am seconding Ivy for another job. She will return to her normal duties later.’
Both he and Grenville smirked at me. They weren’t genetically related in any way but sometimes I could swear they shared the exact same DNA. I threw up my hands and gave in. I wasn’t going to win. Besides, how hard could helping out at Santa’s grotto be? Piece. Of. Christmas. Cake.
There were many benefits to being the one and only squeeze of the Ipsissimus. Every witch, regardless of their Level or place in the Order hierarchy, was keen to help me out and I’d managed to engage many of them in regular errand running. It was for the good of all, I reasoned. I was happy because I wasn’t working up a sweat; Winter was happy because I had more time and energy to spend with him; the witches were happy because Winter was happy. It was win-win-win. Of course, it did mean that I had to spend a great deal of my day being polite to people and saying hello. I wasn’t even halfway to the Order’s library where Maidmont and the grotto were located and I’d already been stopped half a dozen times.
I thought I was safe when the path ahead was finally clear of red robes and the library building itself was in sight. Then, a young nervous voice called out from behind me. ‘Miss Ipsissimus! I’d really like to ask you about your thoughts on the workings of lavender versus mugwort in the workings of an effective weather spell.’
Don’t ask me about herblore. Never ask me about herblore. I paused and turned. ‘Ivy.’
The latest in a long line of young Neophytes blinked at me, dark hair framing a very earnest face. ‘Huh? I didn’t think ivy would work. Do I need to dry it first?’
‘My name is Ivy. Not Miss Ipsissimus.’ In fact, try saying Miss Ipsissimus three times in a row. It’s beyond daft. Repeating my name aloud had become a familiar refrain. Most witches still struggled with the fact that I didn’t possess a proper Order title – Global Phantom Solutions and Assurance Strategist didn’t have much of a ring to it. I’d suggested on several occasions that it be shortened to Assurance Strategist. Or even just Ass. Sadly, it hadn’t yet taken. But at least I enjoyed the facial expressions on the many humourless Order-driven witches I suggested it to.
