Twenty-four
Hunter did not sleep that night. His limbs were still filled with the restless energy of his grief. Which meant that he had dug a grave in the early hours of the morning, and by dawn, his team held a tearful burial.
Sergeant O’Hara stood with them to pay his respects.
Hunter stood there, unable to process any thought or feeling. Alannah clung to Maria’s arm, her face streaked with tears, whereas Maria seemed to be experiencing the same numbness that was affecting Hunter. Ian stood next to Maria, his hand on her shoulder; he looked over to Hunter, the older man uncertain for once, of what to do.
Hunter let out a rattling breath and eventually moved away from the graveside, his legs just about working, though they felt like lead. He motioned for O’Hara to join him.
“We need to get moving. Send the men and women back to Manchester the mundane way. Also, can you organise an investigation into this – no one knew that we were here, save the Mayor. I want to know if she is implicated, or someone in her office has betrayed us. If it is possible, take our fallen back to their families.”
“Yes sir.” O’Hara answered automatically, then hesitated. “Sir, this does not have to be done now, if you need-“
“Sergeant. I-“ Hunter interrupted, but stopped, looking back to his team that still huddled by the grave. It was impossible to think that James simply wouldn’t be there anymore. It didn’t make sense. But at least he was buried in his hometown. It’s what he would have wanted. Now there was the monumental task of telling his family. Hunter’s insides froze at the mere thought of the emotions and distress that he would be causing good people. People that had always welcomed him and treated Hunter as an extended part of the family.
“Sergeant, can you please inform James’ uncle and aunt – I can provide you with an address, they don’t live far from here.”
Sergeant O’Hara frowned, obviously not comfortable being the bearer of bad news, and probably wondering why the best friend did not take the message.
Hunter saw the look and winced. “I cannot go, I cannot be the one to tell them. You have to understand, I am the one that dragged James into this world. Without me, he would have lived a normal, boringly safe life. It- it’s my fault.”
Hunter took a deep breath, and moved away from O’Hara. He drifted closer to his team again. He had to get them back to Manchester, get them out of his charge and custody, so he could be selfish and grieve.
*****
“Where are we?” Alannah asked, confusion in her weary voice.
It was dark, the weak sunlight blocked by drapes.
Hunter took a deep breath, the very air was familiar and comforting. He easily navigated the chairs and low table, and pulled back the heavy curtains.
“Astley Manor.” He murmured, then shook his head. “Sorry, I wasn’t concentrating.”
Alannah moved closer to him, slipping her delicate hand into his. “It’s ok.”
Hunter wanted to express some gratefulness, but he couldn’t even squeeze her hand, or raise the corner of his mouth in a grim smile. He just stared across the room, unfocussed, waiting to feel normal.
Ian coughed. “I’ll let Mrs Astley and Charles know we’re here.”
He shot a concerned look at Maria, who hadn’t said a word since last night, then left to find the other occupants of this house.
“I should…” Hunter broke off, not sure what he was going to say. He felt that he needed to do something, unused energy still burnt through his muscles, even as they felt like lead. But what could he do, he had already killed the witches and had his revenge. Should he go after their leader, should he face the Shadow Witch and take his anger out on her?
A life for a life. He had spared her, now James was dead.
There was a tug on his hand.
“Come to the kitchen.” Alannah insisted. “You too, Maria. I’ll make tea, then find something for us to eat.”
Hunter glanced down at Alannah, the green of her eyes even brighter against the redness from crying. He nodded, and allowed the girl to lead him to the kitchen.
Maria wrapped her arms protectively about her own chest, and silently followed.
*****
It must have been the very early hours of the following morning, yet Hunter lay wide awake. He turned over again, sleep eluding him.
He didn’t even have to close his eyes for the battle to play over and over, the pictures bright and bloody.
Hunter told himself that he knew – they all knew – that fighting meant the chance they might die. Hunter accepted that. But to lose someone else?
Hunter shuddered at the memory of the shattered forest, the energy that had boiled within himself. He had only ever experienced it once before, when the witches had killed Charlotte, his closest friend, save James.
Was that why the witches had done it? Had they want to – to defuse him? Sophie would have known that after Charlotte, only James could evoke such a reaction. Hunter thought bitterly that, once upon a time, the same could have been said for Sophie, herself.
Had she targeted him?
Hunter threw the cover away and got out of bed. Hardly thinking about what he was doing, he grabbed his dressing gown to cover the bare chest and boxers he had slept in – or tried to sleep in.
Hunter made his way down the silent corridor, until he got to a certain room. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door, stepping inside.
He wasn’t sure what he was hoping to see. Perhaps a pair of glasses on the side-table, or an open book on the desk. But it was disappointingly tidy. Charles must have cleaned the room since the last time they came to stay – there was no hint of James left.
Hunter let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, when he heard a sob in the dark room. Hunter shuffled further into the room, to see Maria huddled in the shadow of the foot of the bed.
“Maria?” He said, but even his soft voice was startlingly loud.
Maria snapped her head in his direction. “Hunter.” She hiccupped, fiercely wiping tears from her cheeks.
Hunter stood, uncertain as ever in the face of emotion. “You ok?” He asked, inwardly wincing at the pointless words.
“Yeah…” Maria coughed to kick the waver out of her voice. “I… I know I shouldn’t be in here, but I – I –“
As she broke off, Hunter heard her breath hitch as she tried to control herself.
“Shh, it’s fine.” Hunter replied, stepping closer, then sliding down to sit next to her.
Maria groaned, and wiped her eyes again. “You know, this is the first time I’ve cried since my dad died, twelve years ago. I don’t do crying, I don’t do emotion.”
Hunter guessed this was one of those times it was best to stay quiet and let Maria vent. He leant his shoulder against hers, but otherwise said nothing.
“Not when I lost friends in Afghanistan. Not when my husband left me.” Maria sighed. “You know, you get in the habit of not feeling, not connecting.”
Maria drew her knees up, hugging them to her chest. “But James was… unexpected. I don’t even know when I fell for him. And I never got a chance to – to tell him…“
Maria broke off in a sob. Hunter put his arm reassuringly about her shoulders. “It’s ok. He knew, he – “ Hunter paused to steady his voice. “He knew, and he loved you too.”
Maria huffed, and shoved him with her elbow. “You’re lying, you’re just saying that to make me feel better.” She said, but couldn’t hide her smile through her tears.
Hunter shrugged. “I’ve known James for years, I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looked at you. Plus, you’re the only woman he’s ever taken home to meet his family.”
Maria leant her head against Hunter’s shoulder. “I hardly knew him. I was foolish enough to think that we’d have forever. I’d give anything to have just one more day with him.”
Hunter closed his eyes, tears leaking out the corners of them. “Me too.”
Maria sighed, wiping her eyes on
her pyjama sleeve. “I don’t suppose time travel is one of your tricks.”
Hunter grunted. “No. At least, I don’t think it is.” Hunter gazed at the dark ceiling, he hated to admit that he honestly could not say for sure. He felt anew the gaping hole in his knowledge. Should he have done what James once requested – sought the traces of the Benandanti instead of fighting the witches?
They sat like that for what must have been an hour. Maria had grown so still that Hunter thought she must have drifted to sleep.
“So what now?” She suddenly asked.
“What now, what?” Hunter repeated groggily.
“I mean, what’s going to happen next? We can’t stay at this stalemate.”
Hunter sighed. “Next, we force the witches into battle and we kill them.”
There was a pause, before Maria dared to ask a burning question. “Including Sophie?”
Hunter grimaced. “Sophie Murphy has ceased to exist. The Shadow Witch has killed James, and countless others. There can be no forgiveness.”
Twenty-five
The next morning, after Charles had force fed them all a hearty breakfast, Hunter assembled with his diminished team to return to headquarters.
When they blinked into the secure compound, a few of the newer recruits jumped at their sudden appearance, but the rest seemed to accept that four people had appeared out of thin air. It was amazing how ‘normal’ they considered Hunter’s new-found skill, and if Hunter had been in the mood for it, he would have felt relief. It had not been long ago he had feared being outcast – or worse, killed – for his magic-like abilities.
Hunter led the way to the Council’s makeshift meeting room, where his team settled in. They waited in gloomy silence, nothing to be said.
Eventually the door opened, and General Hayworth marched in, a look of relief crossing his face when he saw them.
“Sergeant O’Hara explained what happened. I had hoped only grief delayed you, but I was worried the rest of you had another run in…” The General paused for breath. “You couldn’t have bloody sent word that you were fine, and took a detour, could you?!”
A delicate hand reached out, cautioning him, as Nadira Shah came in beside him. “Now General, there’s little point berating them over what has already happened. They are back, that’s what matters.”
As she turned to face the others, her beautiful brown eyes were filled with sincerity and sadness. “I am sorry for your loss. I have never heard anything but high praise for James Bennett.”
Hunter looked down at the table before him. He knew that Nadira meant well, but every time he lost someone, he knew the words wouldn’t help
“Thank you, ma’am.” Ian’s voice rang out, speaking for the first time today.
“Alright.” Hayworth started gruffly. “On with business. I daresay we all need the distraction.”
Nadira drifted to the meeting table and sat down, indicating that the others should join her. “While you were gone, the Council has been discussing our next step.”
“I hope it involves killing a lot of witches.” Alannah bitterly interjected.
Nadira smiled compassionately in the young girl’s direction. “We cannot go on as we are, allowing them to pick us off one by one. We need to face them in a place of our choosing, for once. We need to bring them to battle.”
“So they can pick us off en masse.” Ian added darkly.
General Hayworth shot him a warning look. “Not so. Our intelligence tells us that we have the greater numbers now. With Hunter to block their magic, our numbers will overwhelm theirs, just like Little Hanting.”
Hunter felt uneasiness knot in his stomach, but he pushed it aside. This was what he wanted, what he needed. An end to it all, and revenge for James, for Anthony Marks, Charlotte King, Brian Lloyd…
“When and where?” He asked.
“Three weeks should be enough time to rally the troops, everyone is keen to make this stand.”
“Three weeks.”
“We need to hit them before the summer solstice.” Nadira confirmed. “We don’t want to risk them channelling its power for their next offensive.”
“The ‘where’ is Salisbury Plains. I’ve had men down there for months, salvaging equipment. They’ve even got a tank working.”
“Will a tank be enough to kill the Shadow?” Alannah asked warily, remembering their last encounter with her.
Hayworth made a noncommittal gesture. “I really hope so, we’ve got nothing stronger.”
“Magic isn’t about strength.” Hunter muttered. Magic often manifested in the physical, but that didn’t mean brawn alone could defeat it. On the other hand, Hunter couldn’t imagine anything surviving a few mortar rounds.
“Fine. So what are our orders, General?” Hunter eventually asked, doing his best to appear contrite.
Hayworth exchanged a look with Nadira. “We appreciate everything you’ve done, but in view of your loss, we think you should all take leave until the battle.”
Hayworth was met with four very disbelieving faces.
“You want your best team to sit and twiddle their thumbs?” Maria snapped, finally breaking out of her miserable silence.
“You all need time to recover and come to terms with James’ death. We cannot trust your judgement in the field at this time.” Nadira said firmly.
Hunter leant back in his chair, observing the two leaders. So, they were worried that he and his team would crack, or act rashly. Huh, they might have a point.
Hunter pushed back his chair, the legs scraping across the wooden floor. Without a word, he stood up and walked out of the meeting room.
*****
Half an hour later, Ian came to find him. Hunter was working out his frustration in the gym, with a punch bag. His feet moved half-heartedly, but he threw his whole weight behind each punch.
“Hey, want to spar?” Ian called, breaking Hunter’s rhythm.
Hunter stopped, glancing up at the intruder. “Not really, Ian, no.”
“I’ll go easy on you.” Ian offered.
Hunter sighed and backed away, the punch bag having lost its appeal, with Ian providing distraction. Hunter sat down on the closest bench.
“You ok?” Ian asked.
Hunter rolled his shoulders to loosen them up. “I’m fine.” He snapped.
“Uh-huh.” Ian sat down on the bench beside him. “And truthfully?”
“I’m… I’m good enough, I don’t need the Council thinking I need mollycoddling.” Hunter threw his arm out in the vague direction of the Council’s offices.
“They’re just worried about you.” Ian replied.
Hunter snorted. “They’re worried what I might do, I am the freak of nature and breeding, after all.”
Ian crossed his arms, his patience for the snarky comments from the younger man running lower than normal today. “No, they care for you, and they’re worried because you lost your best friend.”
Hunter stood up again, feeling restless energy through his limbs again. He paced to the punch bag and back. “Don’t pretend that you know how I’m feeling right now, Ian.”
Ian stood up so quickly, that Hunter froze mid-step. “Don’t presume you have monopoly on grief right now Hunter. I may not have known James as long as you, but you will not trivialise my friendship with him.”
Hunter backed off a little, he’d never seen Ian show emotion, nor speak so strongly. It just added to his guilt that waited impatiently to kick in.
“I’m sorry.” Hunter mumbled, sitting down again.
They sat in silence for a minute, before Ian finally spoke. “So, are you going to follow orders this time, or did you have some plan concocted?”
Hunter shrugged. “I hadn’t actually gotten that far yet.”
Hunter ran over his initial desire to kill as many witches as possible. Was it best to take out their leader, instead? Once they had lost their Shadow Witch, would the rest crumble.
“It did occur to me that a small team could slip through
their defences and overcome the Shadow Witch.” Hunter admitted.
Ian nodded. “Ok, but what then? We couldn’t kill her last time, what makes you think we could be any more successful this time.”
Unfortunately the sergeant had a point. But what if they didn’t kill her, or not immediately so. “We could bind her.”
“You might want to clarify what you mean by that.” Ian replied with a chuckle.
“We used to bind witches that surrendered. Using an amulet, you can bind their power from them, rendering them harmless – or at least, as harmless as any human.” Hunter explained. “If we could get to Sophie, distract her and bind her, she’d be powerless.”
Ian nodded again. “Ok, sounds plausible. We’ve only got to subdue her; that should be… interesting. You know, the best distraction will be an army with tanks.”
Hunter’s shoulders dropped. “You want me to wait, too.”
“Whatever you decide, I’ll be there with you. So will Alannah and Maria. But it’s just three more weeks to wait, and we can go in with the army at our backs.”
“Waiting three weeks is as impossible a task as overcoming the Shadow Witch.” Hunter muttered.
Ian clapped him on the shoulder. “Good, I knew that you’d see things my way. Now, do you think you can find one of those binding amulet thingies?”
Hunter was about to remark that that was James’ job. But he settled for a silent nod.
Twenty-six
A fortnight before the summer solstice, Hunter began to transport the troops that had been gathering at Manchester, taking them down to the abandoned village of Imber, which served as a temporary place to regroup.
Witch-hunters from all over the UK made their own way there, having gotten the message that the MMC was finally making a stand. Hunter watched as the numbers on Salisbury Plain swelled. Most of them were military, the number of surviving witch-hunters was depressingly low – a few hundred, no more.
Hunter greeted those he knew, seeing the same determination in each face that they would finally put this world right, they would finally get revenge for their lost friends and colleagues. There were a few missing faces that Hunter had yet to see, he hoped they had just been delayed, but there was no one from the Newcastle branch here. But his concern for Toby and the others had to be put aside as the chaos of their army had to be organised.
The Shadow Reigns (Witch-Hunter #2) Page 12
