Witch Swindled in Westerham

by Dionne Lister

  “That he does,” said Beren. “Your talent is amazing, though, Lily. You don’t need any others to be super awesome.”

  “Aw, shucks. But some of my talent sucks. That lady today.” I frowned. I wish I didn’t have that talent. “I’d call that one more of a hindrance. What’s the point of knowing that kind of thing when I can’t do anything about it?”

  “How do you know you can’t do anything about it?” William levelled a serious look my way. “Maybe you have the power to change the future for some people?” Did I? Could I maybe one day? I’d just add that to my to-do list, which was constantly growing rather than shrinking.

  “What’s your talent, Beren?”

  “Healing, but the converse of that is that I’m good at hurting people too. Will and I both have that talent. Not something to be proud of.”

  William looked at Beren, frustration evident on his face. “We didn’t choose this, but we do the best we can with it, don’t we?”

  Beren blew out a breath. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

  Well, this wasn’t a conversation I expected to get into. I didn’t like seeing them unhappy or at odds—they were best buddies. “From what I’ve seen, you’re both amazing people doing the right thing. Thanks for keeping me safe.” I wasn’t sure, but when they watched out for me, they weren’t always getting paid. I think some of the time was covered by the PIB, but some of it was as a favour to James and Angelica. Now I felt bad. I’d have to figure out a way they didn’t have to watch me so much, or maybe I could invite them to do things with me, but maybe they’d think I was being too forward. And what if they didn’t want to hang out with me on a social level?

  Happy days! Our food arrived. I slid my spoon through the fluffy meringue then creamy lemon curd. I put it in my mouth and shut my eyes, the tangy sweetness enchanting my taste buds. “Mmmmmm.” I groaned. “Oh God, that’s good.” I opened my eyes. William and Beren both stared at me, their expressions frozen, like they were afraid to move. Then William looked at my mouth. Oh. “You’re kidding me, right? This cake is so good, as if I wasn’t going to react like that. Try yours.” Seriously, this was not When Harry Met Sally. Not even close.

  Beren grinned sheepishly. William cleared his throat and took a gulp of coffee. Oh, that reminded me. I washed my pie down with coffee but was careful to avoid any accidentally sexy noises or facial expressions. Eating with them was no fun if I couldn’t bask in the deliciousness like a pig rolling in mud. Maybe I’d just warn them to look away next time and block their ears.

  We’d almost finished eating when James and Angelica entered the café. James wore a cocky grin, and Ma’am was poker face personified. I could do with some good news, although, I still hadn’t figured out how I was going to keep what I knew from Olivia. If she found out I’d had anything to do with arresting her fiancé, she was going to hate me. Gah, push it away and worry about it if and when it happens, Lily.

  I swallowed the last mouthful of coffee. William stood and made his way to the register. Yay, the PIB was going to get the bill. At least they were good for something other than arresting people. Apparently I was still upset about my incarceration.

  “Ready to go?” asked James.

  “Yep. The coffee break was just what I needed.”

  “Good. We also got what we needed, and now it’s time to go visiting.” James led us outside and down the street to a taxi. He held the door open for me.

  “Where’s the driver?”

  My brother looked around, then pointed at himself with a “surprise” expression on his face. “You’re looking at him. We convinced the taxi company to lend it to us. We’ll drive it back before we leave Paris. Don’t worry.”

  “Why aren’t we just travelling?”

  “We may need to go to more than one place, and there aren’t always public toilets nearby. This will be easier and less tiring. Plus, if we need to, we can leave you safely in the car.”

  “Oh.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I wasn’t an agent, and there were things I didn’t need to see, plus, in a shoot-out—gun or spell—I would probably be a liability. But did I want to watch my brother and friends run towards danger while I waited somewhere twiddling my thumbs? Where did that saying come from, anyway? I didn’t think I’d ever seen someone do that. I certainly hadn’t ever twiddled my thumbs. As everyone else piled into the car—okay, Angelica gracefully slid into the front passenger seat—I laced my fingers together and got in some twiddling practice.

  The taxi wasn’t huge. I’d gotten one window seat, and Beren sat between William and me, the guys’ broad shoulders jammed together. The image of a clown car came to mind, and I snorted.

  “What’s so funny?” asked Beren.

  “Mmm, nothing.”

  He gave me a stern side-eyed glare then gave up. Well, that’d been easy.

  I tapped James on the shoulder. “Where are we going?”

  “We got an address for an apartment in the 6th Arrondissement. It’s practically around the corner.”

  “Why didn’t we just walk?”

  “Because”—Angelica turned and spoke to me—“if Camilla manages to escape the conventional way, we have to be able to chase her.”

  “Why wouldn’t she just pop away?” Surely if you had magic, you were going to use it for everything you could.

  “She might be exhausted. She’s been using her magic a lot lately. Who knows how tired she is? Also, we all need to be fresh to deal with her. We really have to get you travel capable, Lily.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” The comment stung, another reminder that I was virtually a baby witch, but if I could travel, I could pop over to Paris whenever I wanted, stay for coffee, and go home again. No massive plans would have to be made or time taken.

  In a couple of minutes, James double-parked outside a traditional Parisian six-level apartment block. It was one of the ones with the mansard-style grey-slate roofs on the top two floors. “Lily, you’ll have to stay here, but I need you to get in the driver’s seat, just in case the police come along.”

  “You’re kidding, right? I can’t drive on the wrong side of the road. I’ll kill someone, probably me. On the upside, William and Beren won’t have to follow me everywhere anymore. You guys’ll have some spare time to just hang out.”

  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, dear. Just get into the driver’s seat. It’s a taxi. You should be fine for a while. We won’t be long.” Easy for her to say. What if someone wanted me to move the car?

  Everyone got out, and I plonked into the front seat. William came around to my side before I shut the door. “Lock the doors, Lily. If anything happens, call me or James. Okay?”

  “As in, if I see Camilla or Ernest down here?”

  “Ah, yes, that too.”

  I swallowed. He meant if the bad guys came for me. As he walked away with everyone, a tiny spark of fear ignited in my belly. I locked the doors and looked around, my shoulders knotting, sending pain radiating to the base of my skull. Great. My indicator was clicking away, yet I tensed at every car that came up behind me, waiting for one to beep and tell me to get moving.

  James stood in front of the main doors of one of the blocks lined along the street. He put his palm up to the intercom, and then leaned over to push the door open. Nice work. If that was a witchy trick, how many witches turned to crime for money? Breaking and entering would be so easy if you could just tell the door to open. No wonder the PIB was necessary.

  Lime green flashed to my right as a couple ran across the road onto my side of the street. Nice coloured shirt—green was one of my faves. The man wearing the happy shirt reached for the taxi’s door handle. My heart sped up. When the door wouldn’t open, he bent and cocked his head to the side to stare at me. I shook my head. He pursed his lips and banged on the window. Sheesh, now I was expected to take fares? Sorry, but the shirt wasn’t enough to sway me. I mouthed “Pardon” and shook my head again. He yelled something in French and lifted his fist at me, although he left his middle finger
out of it. Was that ruder? It probably was—a whole fist would be a damn sight more uncomfortable than a finger. Well, up yours too! I refrained from sticking my middle finger up, because I didn’t want the cab company getting a complaint. Antagonising him wasn’t going to help anything. His lady friend pulled his arm until he gave up and went with her.

  How were James and the others doing in there? Was Camilla even home? Maybe she and Ernest had gone for a walk or something. A lady in platform stilettos approached my cab—ha, now it was my cab. I shook my head at her. She looked confused, then kept walking. There must be a sign on the top of this cab that said I was available, but I couldn’t see the controls for it anywhere. Maybe it was a manual thing, and I needed to get out and change it.

  I unlocked the door and got out. The little light inside the Taxi Parisien sign brightly mocked me. Great. How do I turn the damn thing off? I narrowed my eyes, as if that would solve all my problems. Nope, didn’t work. I looked around, although I didn’t know why. I didn’t think a random person would be able to tell me how to turn it off.

  My eyes widened. How hadn’t I noticed before? The black van was back, on the other side of the road and down a bit. Crap! I jumped in the taxi and locked the doors, my breath coming fast. I picked my phone up off the passenger seat. Should I call someone? What if they were in the middle of some spell fight and I interrupted at the wrong time and got someone killed?

  Was it really the black van, or was it a different one? Was I freaking out a bit too hard for no reason? The only way to find out was to get out and check the number plate. Or, I could stay in the taxi and wait for everyone else to get back then get one of them to do it. That would be the safe option, and as much as it chaffed my nerves, I took it.

  I had to adjust my side mirror, but eventually, I was able to get it so I could watch the van. Other cars were parked in front of it, so I couldn’t see the number plate. Thankfully, there didn’t appear to be anyone in it, although with the darkish tinting, it was hard to tell. It was probably nothing—a normal Parisian going about their day. Plus, we’d fairly well established that monobrow and his accomplice were watching more than attacking, although they had tried to kidnap me once. Maybe they were just waiting for a better opportunity. Anger stepped onto the dance floor and tangoed with fear in my stomach.

  Waiting was not my forte, neither was bothering people. Stuff it. Those crims were not going to rule my life, and I was not going to sit here shitting myself waiting for something to happen. The van down the street probably belonged to some hard-working French person, and I was scared for nothing. Why spend more of my day in fear?

  I grabbed my phone and pulled up James’s number—just in case. All I had to do was press the green button. I gazed out each window before I crawled over the passenger seat and got out on the footpath side. I locked the taxi and pocketed the keys. If the taxi were stolen, I’d be in so much trouble that I’d be better off taking my chances with the van guys. I hunched over and ran low so I could sneak along using the parked cars as cover. I ignored the weird looks passers-by gave me. Yep, nothing to see here.

  I checked back a couple of times to make sure James wasn’t coming out of the apartment complex. He wouldn’t be happy to find the taxi locked and me gone. I commando-ran further than the van, as I wanted surprise on my side—they wouldn’t be looking out for me behind their car, because I was supposed to be in front of them, sitting safely in my car.

  There were lights to cross about fifty metres farther down. I resumed normal posture once the car cover was gone—I was pretty sure that walking like an idiot would make me more noticeable, not less. When the lights changed, I walked as normally as I could. Once across the road, I hid behind a plane tree—Paris was very thoughtful to have planted rows of these things so I could hide my way up the street.

  I ducked my head carefully around the tree. The rear of the van was only a few tree trunks away. I wished I could tell if someone was in the van, but it was impossible. Maybe I should just run up to the van, look in and run back to the taxi. In that case, timing was everything. A row of traffic marched down both lanes of the road. Hmm. I ran back to the lights, pressed the walk button, and returned to my tree. That should solve my problem. The light finally turned red, and I ran towards the van. You are such an idiot.

  My heart raced, and not because of my sprint. I jumped in front of the van, and came face-to-face with… no one. It was empty. Now I was close enough, the disabled parking sticker was obvious on one side of the windscreen—so it wasn’t their van. I bent over and checked the number plate. Nope. Not theirs. I sucked in a lungful of air and huffed it out again. I was careful to look both ways, and the right ways, before I crossed the road laughing. I’m Lily, Queen of the Idiots. Behold my stupidity!

  I was still grinning when I unlocked the taxi and got back in the driver’s seat. I locked the doors, put my seatbelt on, and stuck the key back in the ignition. Phew. False alarm. Everything was good. Now I just had my PIB peeps to worry about.

  Click.

  What was that? It kind of sounded like someone cocking a— Cold, hard metal pressed into the side of my head, just above my ear. I froze.

  Crap.

  A muffled male voice came from behind the back seat. “Drive.”

  Chapter 10

  Sweat prickled my forehead and slicked my palms. I hated speaking too soon, saying everything was fine. It was clearly my fault: I should have said, “touch wood.” The thing I had going for me was that only a bigger idiot than me would demand I drive in Paris, on the wrong side of the road. The traffic zipped past. Should I warn him? Nah. The only way I was going to get out of this is if I crashed the car, which wasn’t going to be hard considering my lack of experience driving on the right—or wrong—side of the road.

  I glanced in the rear-view mirror. His face was covered with a black balaclava. I wanted to ask if he was the same guy who’d try to grab me in Westerham, but I was scared to talk, in case it made him want to pull the trigger. Although, if he’d wanted me dead, he would’ve done it already. Right? I had to assume whoever had sent him wanted me alive, at least for a while. “I should warn you: I’m a crap driver.”

  The gun pressed harder against my head. Okay, you asked for it, buddy. Operation Crash the Taxi commenced.

  I put the left indicator on, checked for cars, then pulled out. Oh, God, I was driving in Paris. I bit my lip and concentrated. Could I crash the car on purpose, or would I chicken out? Also, James and Angelica were going to be so pissed that I’d totalled the taxi. I should never have gotten out to check the van. I’d stuffed up again. When would I learn?

  “Turn left here.” He waved the gun, bopping me in the cheek.

  “Ouch, dumbass. Watch where you poke that thing.” Kidnapping me was one thing, but until he killed me, I wasn’t going to play nice. He didn’t have to be violent. I was driving, wasn’t I? I scowled. I was so crashing this taxi. I didn’t care if I got hurt doing it. If he got me wherever he wanted me to go, it would be game over for me. Not happening. Also, crap—a left turn was tricky.

  “Shut your mouth, bitch.” Heavy English accent. Maybe it was one of those guys from the black van. Just because the other van hadn’t been theirs, didn’t mean they hadn’t popped into Paris and snagged another car.

  I slowed down, indicator on, and waited for cars coming the other way to pass. If I were in Sydney, a left turn would be one where I hugged the kerb. The cars cleared, and I went. My gaze darted everywhere to look for somewhere safe to crash. Yes, I saw the irony in that statement.

  Then I saw my opportunity. I knew I was about to cause all kinds of trouble for James, but if I didn’t take this chance, what if I didn’t get another one?

  The traffic slowed up ahead, but against every instinct, I pushed my foot down harder and accelerated.

  “Slow down, you crazy bitch. What are you doing?”

  Crashing into a police car, apparently. This is gonna hurt like a—

  Bang!

&nb
sp; The airbag deployed, smashing me in the face, as metal crunched and glass sprayed everywhere. The moron in my back seat had no belt on, and he went flying through the windscreen. I would have laughed if my face didn’t hurt like a witch.

  My mobile rang somewhere in the wreckage. But I couldn’t see it, and it hurt to move. I hoped no one else was hurt as I squinted my aching eyes and looked out through where the windscreen used to be. The taxi was a mangled disaster, and so was the back of the police car, but their crumple zone had worked, and the rest of it looked fine, oh, except the roof, where the guy who’d tried to kidnap me lay, not moving. Had I killed him? If I hadn’t felt nauseous before, I did now. I didn’t want to kill anyone, just escape. Please don’t be dead.

  The police lights flashed. Two police got out, one looking slightly dazed. The driver, who looked fine, had his hand on his hip, maybe deciding whether we were terrorists or not. He checked out the guy on his roof then cautiously walked towards me, gun drawn. To be fair, the guy on his roof had a balaclava on. Once the police officer was next to the car, he lowered his gun. Warmth oozed down my face. I touched my temple and cheek. Slimy, wet. Oh, my palm was red. I must be bleeding.

  “Est ce que ca va?”

  Huh?

  High-school French came back to me. “Parlez vous anglais?”

  “Yes, miss. What happened?”

  “That man was trying to kidnap me. He has a gun.” I looked to where the guy was still lying across the roof of the police car, his arms hanging down one side. Sharp pain speared through my head. I groaned. What did you expect? You just crashed a car. Oh, that’s right, I had just crashed a car. It was official: I was definitely loony.

  The policeman leaned closer, his brow wrinkling. “Miss. Miss.”

  My mouth wouldn’t form the words to answer. I tried to smile, to say I was okay, but sharp agony cut across my forehead. My eyelids fell shut, and the world disappeared.