The Crockworthy Sisters Box Set - Parts 1-3

by Marcus Brown

  She knew it was her mother and Numen who were responsible for re-animating Jeremiah. Nobody else could, or would have used such powerful dark magic.

  Jeremiah had been mortally wounded and she hoped she and her sisters had seen the last of him. His appearance repulsive, his burnt and scarred body irreparably damaged. The last thing she expected was to be confronted by him. Caught off guard, the brutal force of his attack took her completely by surprise.

  She’d been more concerned with helping Trey and hadn’t expected Jeremiah to come at her with such ferocity.

  Jeremiah backed her into a corner, and it was then she should have used what powers she had, against him, but everything happened so fast. She’d managed to turn and protect her face as he swung the mallet, viciously striking the back of her head.

  The pain was immense, and as she cowered down, he stood over her and let out the strangest laugh – he’d clearly enjoyed every moment of his attack.

  She vividly recalled the smell of burnt flesh as he struck her again.

  Accepting her fate, she felt her skull crack -- the white-hot pain unbearable. The sheer brutality and viciousness of his attack sent her head slamming back into the wall.

  Time seemed to stand still, and after a few seconds, she expected him to strike her again, but she heard the whoosh and then he was gone. But where had he gone to? And how?

  She reached for the panic button once again, and this time, managed to focus and press it.

  The sirens wailed around her, and she prayed to the Goddess they would be found soon.

  She slid down the wall and closed her eyes, unconsciousness finally winning over.

  Chapter Two

  Tamara and Talia Crockworthy rushed frantically along the sterile hospital corridors.

  Gripping one another’s hand, they’d received the telephone call to say Tabitha had been injured and wasn’t expected to survive the surgery.

  “We should have blinked, Tally,” Tamara said, tears running down her pale cheeks.

  “And risk being exposed – don’t be stupid,” Talia replied, taking shallow breaths as she hurried along. “And wipe your nose for heaven’s sake.”

  Tamara wrenched her hand from Talia’s and stopped dead in her tracks. “You really are a heartless bitch, Talia Crockworthy,” she screamed, as passers-by turned to stare at the commotion they were making.

  “Tammy, please,” she pleaded, lowering her voice. “Not here.”

  “Wipe your nose, Tammy. Straighten your hair, Tammy,” she mimicked. “Don’t you know how to do anything, but pick holes in people? Does it make you feel important being a first-class fucking bitch?”

  A middle aged couple observing the argument stood open mouthed, offered a disapproving look and stepped into the elevator.

  “I’m sorry,” Talia said, horrified to have upset her sister so much. “I didn’t mean to be a bitch, but I’m terrified we’re gonna lose Tabi.”

  “We should have blinked.” Tamara admitted, breaking down and sobbing against her sister’s shoulder. “We both felt the shift in our powers, we should have known.”

  “We didn’t know Tabi was hurt,” Talia said.

  “We knew enough – and did nothing,” Tamara cried. “What if she dies and we never get chance to tell her how much we love her?”

  Talia wrapped her arms around her sister, but couldn’t hold it in any longer. “It won’t come to…” She croaked the words and lost it completely. “Tabitha won’t die – I won’t allow it.”

  The emotions she’d tried to keep in check spilled forth from her like a tsunami and she leaned her head on Tamara’s shoulder and broke down completely, shaking uncontrollably. “Tabi,” she sobbed.

  The sisters were united in grief and held tightly onto one another, not caring who bore witness to it.

  “Come on,” Tamara said, “We need to find Tabi.” She pushed Talia away and laughed -- spitting unintentionally into her sister’s face.

  “What?” Talia said.

  “You look like a raccoon.” Tamara bent double laughing, tears of sorrow and laughter cascading down her cheeks. “Tabi will wet herself laughing when she sees you like this. Stand there,” she ordered, grabbing her sister’s shoulders and moving her into position. “I need to get a picture. That will wake her up if nothing will.”

  Talia looked at her with a furious expression on her face, obviously not finding being the butt of the joke funny in the slightest. But under the circumstances, she’d do anything to help Tabitha. “Then click away,” she said, striking a pose, “and let’s get going. We need to find our sister – maybe me looking like a racoon and you laughing like a moron will shock her back into the land of the living.”

  Tamara tried to stop herself from laughing, pursing her lips together, but made fart like noises as the air escaped.

  “Charming,” Talia added, a haughty expression on her face. “Bottom burping in public is not at all ladylike.”

  “I didn’t fart, your ladyship,” Tamara added, “and what’s all this bottom burp business? You’re nearly a thousand years old and you speak like the children I teach at school. Knock it off, will you?” She shook her head.

  “I’m nowhere near a thousand years old, you poxy trollop,” Talia snapped. “I’m the same age as you, give or take a few minutes.”

  Tamara snorted, trying not to laugh again. The mention of age always got Talia’s back up.

  They reached the nurse’s station and waited patiently for the nurse to acknowledge their presence. But, she sat staring at her screen, ignoring the sisters, even as Talia tapped her finger loudly trying to get her attention.

  “Ahem,” Talia said, faking a cough, but there was still no response. She tapped on the desk, rapidly. “Excuse me,” Talia said haughtily. “Am I that slim you don’t actually see me standing here?

  Tamara blew out her cheeks, trying not to laugh. Her nerves were shot and when she felt like that, she was prone to the giggles.

  “I beg your pardon?” the nurse finally responded, glaring through narrowed eyes.

  “Oh, goodie,” Talia replied, clapping her hands and responding sardonically. “You can see me. How marvellous. Now, before you bury yourself in whatever was so fascinating you blatantly ignored us, I want to know where my sister, Chief Inspector Tabitha Worthy is.”

  “Well…” the nurse said.

  “Now,” she said, impatiently. “Unless you want me to get my phone and call the administrator of this dump.”

  The nurse looked flabbergasted. “There’s no need to be rude, Miss.”

  “I know perfectly well how to behave. You on the other hand, well, let’s just say if you worked for me, the level of appalling service you deliver wouldn’t be tolerated.” The nurse opened her mouth to speak, but Talia raised her index finger. “You’ve wasted enough of my time. Now, room number, please.”

  The nurse, red-faced and clearly seething, returned to her screen and seconds later gave Talia the information she required. “Room 212. Second floor, but your sister is under guard…”

  “I’m so sorry about my sis…” Tamara said, trying to apologise on her sister’s behalf. She was mortified by Talia’s rudeness.

  “Thank you,” Talia added, dragging Tamara down the corridor toward the lift.

  “Was there any need to be so rude?” Tamara asked.

  “She was getting on my tits,” Talia fired back in response. “And don’t ever apologise for me again.”

  Chapter Three

  Abigail sat down gracefully in the gilded chair as though she were holding court.

  “Come, Jeremiah, we must speak.”

  “He’s in no fit state to speak to anybody,” Numen added, scathingly.

  “Watch your tongue, or you might find yourself back in that dimension for another three hundred years.”

  “Mistress…”

  “Silence,” she snapped, fixing him with an icy-cold stare. “I haven’t yet forgiven, or forgotten your betrayal.”

  “I’m s
orry, Mistress.”

  “For years, I loved and nurtured you, helped you discover the means with which to step from behind the veil and take solid form again. Cutting my throat is how you repaid me.”

  “I have no excuse to offer, but I was momentarily blinded by the possibilities – their power would have given me everything I’ve wished for.”

  “In time, Numen, and on my terms, but prove to me you’re faithful once more, and I will do all I can to ensure you get what you truly deserve.”

  “Thank you, Mistress.”

  “Now, I need to speak with Jeremiah. Go,” she ordered.

  “I will take my leave and do as we discussed,” Numen said, agreeably.

  “Make sure it’s a face I’ll like to look at.”

  “Whatever you wish,” he said, vanishing into thin air.

  Chapter Four

  Jack Davies was talking to the two uniformed officers outside room 212.

  They were distracted as the doors flew open and two pretty, young women ran breathlessly down the corridor.

  The uniformed officers moved and stood directly in front of the door.

  The sisters stopped in front of them.

  Talia fixed her gaze at the officers, almost daring them to stop her from entering.

  “It’s okay, fellas. Let them in. They’re family.”

  The officers stood aside and Jack walked in first, holding the door open, waiting for them to step inside.

  Talia gasped, and Tamara’s hand flew to her mouth.

  “What happened to her?” Talia asked, rushing to her sister’s bedside.

  Tabitha was lying still, her head bandaged. Severe bruising had crept down the left side of her face, past her eye and down her cheek to the corner of her mouth. Appearances aside, the high-pitched beeps from the machines terrified the sisters more than anything.

  Tabitha couldn’t breathe unaided – the machines were doing it for her.

  “Oh, Tabi,” Tamara said as she approached the bed, the tears flowing again. “Please don’t die.”

  “What happened?” Talia demanded.

  “From what we’ve been able to piece together, both Tabitha and Trey Dembélé were attacked in the morgue.”

  “Trey?” Tamara said, alarmed. “Is he okay?”

  “I’m afraid not, Miss Worthy.” He looked away.

  “Oh, no,” she responded. “And please, call me Tamara.”

  “Forget Trey for the moment and tell me what happened,” Talia demanded. “Don’t leave anything out.”

  “Tally, enough. It isn’t Jack’s fault.”

  “It’s okay, Tamara,” he said, kindly. “We all know how your sister feels.”

  “I doubt that very much,” Talia spat. “Well?”

  “We’ve got a team analysing the CCTV footage from the morgue. It appears somebody made a terrible mistake.”

  “What kind of mistake, Jack?” Tamara asked.

  “The man we brought in was identified as Miriam Donaldson’s accomplice, the same person that kidnapped you. We wrongly believed him to be deceased.”

  “And,” Talia said, impatiently.

  “From what we’ve been able to piece together, he wasn’t quite dead and attacked Tabitha and Dembélé.”

  Tamara and Talia looked at one another. “Not quite dead!” Talia said, sounding exasperated.

  “This can’t be happening,” Tamara said. “How is that even possible? You’re either dead or alive. Simple as.”

  “I’m sorry, but I have no explanations for you yet, but I’m hoping your sister and Dembélé recover enough to tell us what happened.”

  “So, Trey isn’t dead?” Tamara asked, looking confused.

  “No,” he replied, sheepishly. “I’m so sorry I gave you that impression. He’s in Intensive Care now and suffered depressed skull fractures in three places. Now, I shouldn’t be telling you any of this, but he lost a lot of blood, and the next twenty-four hours are critical for him. We’re all praying he recovers.”

  “And, Tabitha?” Talia asked.

  “Your sister suffered a fractured skull and subdural hematoma.”

  “By the Goddess,” Tamara said, clutching Tabitha’s hand.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve overstepped the mark being this forthright with you. Let me go and find your sister’s doctor. I’m sure he will explain everything to you better than I can.”

  “Will she die?” Talia asked.

  “I haven’t been made privy to that information, Miss Worthy.” He walked past and touched her gently on the arm. “I’ll go and find the doctor.”

  *

  Miles away from the hospital in a large, deserted country hotel, Abigail listened to Jeremiah drone on.

  He struggled to talk as the muscles required were badly burnt when the sisters set fire to his body in their attempt to cremate him.

  “Don’t worry, Jeremiah, I’ll fix your face, amongst other things and then you’ll help me find the book and take back the power that is rightfully mine.”

  She stood up as the door opened and closed.

  Numen entered the room in solid form and by his side, a handsome young man of about twenty-five. He appeared spellbound.

  “Ah, Jeremiah, say hello to your new face.”

  Jeremiah grunted, seemingly unimpressed.

  “Should I take my leave and find an alternative? One the host is more taken with.”

  “No, this face will do very nicely. Take him to my chamber. I wish to see what else he has to offer.” She smiled cunningly at Numen, as the man was led out of the room and toward Abigail’s chamber.

  Chapter Five

  It had been many years since Abigail had enjoyed the company of a man and she wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass her by.

  “Tell me your name,” she asked, as she unfastened his jeans, marvelling at the thick chunky cock between his legs.

  He looked into her eyes. “My name is Jamie.”

  “Well, Jamie, welcome to my home,” she replied coquettishly. “We are going to have fun getting to know one another.” She gripped his cock and felt it growing hard in her hand.

  Pushing Jamie down on the bed, she slipped out of her black silk underwear and climbed over him. She allowed his cock to slide into her eager pussy and groaned with pleasure.

  He reached up and cupped his hands around her breasts, gently thrusting inside her.

  His moans of pleasure excited Abigail and she threw her head back in abandon, but the change in the air distracted her. She thrust herself onto his cock and twisted her head, aware Numen was watching.

  “What are you doing, Mistress?” he asked in his monotone voice.

  “That is none of your concern,” she replied. “Now leave us.”

  The pressure in the air changed again as he left. She looked down -- the handsome young man would make a fine companion and although he was here for a reason, it didn’t mean Abigail couldn’t take a little of him for herself.

  Reaching behind her, she pulled the knife tucked from inside the black belt she wore around her waist and held it above Jamie’s chest.

  She muttered under her breath, knowing he was close, feeling his cock pulsating inside her. He was going to spill inside her and let out a huge groan. She felt him flood her uterus and brought the knife down, piercing his heart.

  His eyes were wide open, but death was instantaneous. She climbed off as Jamie’s head lolled to the side. That particular job was done, and now he was ready for the next task before they disposed of what was left.

  “Numen,” she called. “Take his face, but be careful not to damage it, or else.”

  *

  Jack Davies paced the office floor, almost wearing a groove in the dark blue carpeted floor tiles.

  He’d been made acting Chief Inspector in Tabitha’s absence, but it was the last thing he wanted.

  “Right,” he said, nervously, calling the room to order. “In the boss’ absence, I’ve been put in charge, and you all know me well enough by now – this doesn’
t sit right with me at all. But if it helps catch whoever battered Tabitha to within an inch of her life, I’ll do what I have to.”

  Cries of congratulations rang out amongst the group.

  “The boss is out of the woods as far as I was told by her sister this morning.”

  “The snooty, or nice one?” Grace Meadows asked, as her colleagues burst into laughter.

  “The snooty one,” he said, red-faced, shaking his head. “Christ, she’s a bloody nightmare.”

  Grace groaned. “Yeah, she’s hard work, but forget about her. Focus on the boss. In time, she’ll be back to her full self and behind her desk, where she belongs.”

  “So, what do we know?” Niall Hooper, another of the assembled officers asked.

  “Twelve dead at the hands of Miriam Donaldson and John Doe. No change with Dembélé. The investigation is still ongoing as to how John Doe was pronounced dead, then miraculously rose to beat seven shades of shite out of two of our own and murdered another two…” He paused, losing himself in his thoughts. The office phone rang, bringing him back. “Grace, get that, will you, please.”

  She walked to her desk and lifted the handset.

  “We’re missing something, Jack,” Niall stated. “I can feel it.”

  “Hopefully, we’ll catch the bastard and get all the answers we need,” Jack replied.

  Grace placed the receiver down and Jack noticed the colour draining from her face.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “That was Chief Inspector Leighton Harley from North Wales Police Headquarters – they think our killer has struck again, but on their side of the border this time.”

  Jack leant against his desk. “Shit. That’s all we need. Tell me what he said.”

  Grace picked up her notebook and read from it. “Male victim found earlier this morning in a secluded woodland area – eyes, heart, liver, and kidneys missing like before. Inverted cross carved into the chest…”

  “The sick fu…” Niall said before he was interrupted.

  “That’s not the worst part,” Grace replied, the colour well and truly drained from her face.