by Al K. Line
"Stay there," Plum ordered Govan, before she pulled me by the arm out into the hall.
"Tell me it's for the best."
"Spark, I would love to let him leave. Go to college, all that stuff. But then I realized, and you too judging by your face." She got in close and whispered, "It's over for him. We both know it. The witches won't let this rest. Matilda's family, they are all witches and wizards. She was training with Grandma! They get him and it won't be good. You know the rules. If a Hidden messes with your own, worse, kills your own, then it's your right to deal punishment. Nobody will stop them, nobody can, and they would be justified in killing the boy. What would you have done if he'd killed Grandma? Or even now, if she's hurt?"
My anger rose at the thought. I ached to get her, but had to be prepared for dealing with the boy first. "I know. For a moment I thought maybe I could do some good for a change."
Plum put a hand to my arm and stared at me hard. "You can. Just do it right. It's for the best. Be seeing you."
"Bye, Plum. And thanks."
She turned and smiled at the door. I watched her walk down the path as the dawn broke.
God, that backside is amazing. Like two bowling balls dipped in honey then sprinkled with sugar. That's how I imagine it tasting if I ever get the chance to lick a cheek. I never will though. Plum is a panther shifter and sex would get very messy. For me.
And anyway, Kate and I were finally getting somewhere. It goes beyond lust with Kate, although I do want to lick her a lot, too.
I sighed, turned from the distraction Plum's perfect backside afforded me, and moved my thoughts back to finally getting Grandma.
And murder. I also had to kill a teenage boy before the witches got hold of him and made him suffer terribly for what he had done. It would be nasty if they got him; my way would be better.
Stanley had a lot to answer for, and answer for it he would.
Despite it all, I couldn't help smiling. I was going to see Grandma. She was alive.
Grandma!
"Okay, lead the way." I was all business. No sympathy, no smile, no show of weakness. It killed me to act like that but I couldn't risk Govan changing my mind. He wouldn't try to bolt—the poor kid was terrified—but I knew what I had to do.
"He said everything would be all right. I'm so scared. I'm a vampire, I can't believe it. Will they come for me? Stanley said they would. He said they'd come for me and make me live with them and do all kinds of depraved acts. But I don't want to die."
"What, depraved acts like killing young girls and locking up witches in basements? If you've hurt her..."
"I haven't. Honest. Stanley said not to touch her and I didn't want to anyway." Govan opened what I had assumed was an under stairs cupboard door then flicked a switch and pulled aside a rail of coats. There was a door, with a very serious lock on it.
I looked at him and he said, "I haven't got the key."
"It doesn't matter." My anticipation gave me all the energy I needed. I snapped to black as fast as the switch had turned the room to light. A tiny, unknowable portion of the Empty flowed into me through sheer power of will. I let it build in my right arm from the elbow down to my palm. I tickled, a hint of the payback to come if I pushed it too far, but this was a simple piece of magic. I would hardly be ill at all.
Putting my hand to the lock, I paused. If this was as simple as blasting the mechanism to liquid metal and kicking the door open then why hadn't Grandma done that? She could do so much more. She could do it in her sleep.
I must have looked scary as hell as I turned to Govan—it was probably the black and sparkling eyes, or maybe the ink, or maybe I am just mean looking when in the magic zone—as he took a step back, putting his hands to his head like I was about to melt his brain.
"Has she been unconscious this whole time? Why hasn't she escaped if she's just behind a simple door?"
"It wasn't my idea, honest. It was all Stanley."
My voice wavered as the magic built and I said, "What was?" I had a terrible feeling. Like she'd be chopped up into tiny pieces or something.
"No, nothing bad," squeaked Govan, shoulders hunching so far forward he was ready to collapse in on himself.
"What? Answer me, now."
"He gave her a potion. A potion of contentment, he called it."
"Oh, right. You better not be lying," I accused. He didn't look like he was.
Wasting no more time, I let the magic build again and put my hand to the door over the handle and lock. With a snort and an internal push, directing the tiny amount of dark magic needed, I pushed with my hand then moved it back quickly as the handle and a piece of the door melted and slid down the paintwork.
With a muddy winklepicker—I hadn't cleaned them since the gnomes, which showed what a state I was in—I kicked the door. It swung open, revealing stairs.
"After you," I said, and manhandled Govan down the stairs.
"Grandma? Grandma, are you here?" We moved to the bottom of the stairs and a familiar sound greeted me once my head was below the level of the ceiling.
We were in a spacious and well-lit basement with Stanley's eclectic taste in furniture and wild choice of colors very much in evidence—it looked like a living room. And there, sat on a brown leather sofa, staring at a blaring TV, was Grandma. She was smiling contentedly, watching Breakfast TV. Some segment about the rising popularity of raincoats for dogs. She doesn't even have a dog.
Govan forgotten, I walked over to her and put an arm to her shoulder. "Grandma?"
"Ooh, hello, Faz. Come to watch TV with me have you?" She patted the seat beside her and beamed up at me.
"Oh, Grandma, what has he done to you?"
Grandma stared at me with eyes more familiar than my own. She still wore her pinafore and house slippers, and looked entirely relaxed. She studied me, like she hadn't seen me for weeks. "What have you done to your hair!? Change it back right this instant."
"Grandma, don't you remember? You saw me last week, when I got into that spot of bother. Remember?"
She frowned in concentration, but a poodle with a red hat on caught her attention and she turned back to the TV.
"Grandma?" She put up a hand to hush me.
I turned to Govan, my anger overflowing like my sense of loss.
Sharp pain stabbed my eyes and I knew I was lost to a tidal wave of dark magic. I reached out my hands and watched as vengeance crackled at my fingertips then along the lines of my tattoos.
"I'm gonna kill you. You and Stanley. But you first," I hissed, unable to control myself.
There was a flash of movement. As I reached for the boy he was gone in a blur as something took him away from me and up the stairs. I heard a dull thud as the front door slammed shut behind them.
"Fucking vampires!" I screamed.
Grandma didn't even turn at my use of bad language. Normally she'd tell me I was grounded, never mind that I hadn't lived with her for almost a century.
With no way to release my anger, I did the next best thing. I was enveloped by the familiar pain of dark magic use, and sank onto the sofa while I fought the crippling hurt as the energy dissipated back into the Empty. My arm went around Grandma. Tears fell.
I don't know how long we sat there, but at some point I realized someone was calling my name and shaking me by the shoulder. Turning, I stared into eyes full of my own sadness. "Kate? What are you doing here?"
"I've been doing some investigating and then it hit me. The cat, Stanley doesn't have a cat. He lied, and I can see I was right. Is she okay?"
"She will be. I hope."
"Come on," she said, moving in front of us, blocking the TV. Grandma didn't even notice, just smiled happily at Kate. "Let's get you both home."
"Home? What's home now, Kate? Where were you? I thought I'd lost you too. Lost everything."
"You can't get rid of me that easily, Faz Pound. I had a few ideas and went to check them out, and I was right. Come on, up," she ordered.
We both stood. I'm not sure
who was more in a daze, me or Grandma.
The Witches Get Busy
I sat, slumped forward on the scrubbed kitchen table at Grandma's with my head in my hands. She was back, but I was going from one nightmare to another.
A coven of witches scowled, muttered, shrieked, shouted, laughed, cried, patted me on the head, pinched my nose, blamed me, congratulated me, scolded me for losing Govan, slapped me on the back, busied themselves at the stove, went in and out of the garden for herbs, and generally brought to life my worst nightmare.
It had been bad in the car with everyone chattering away and giving me no peace, this was so much worse I couldn't think of a number large enough to times it by.
My anger overflowing, I was all for heading straight to the morgue and dealing with Stanley. Kate calmed me down, convinced me, and rightly so, that getting Grandma home, and back to being herself again, was the most important thing. Stanley could wait. We had to get Grandma safe first.
She could answer some questions, better help me to understand what was going on, and I was exhausted anyway.
"You okay?" shouted Kate above the din of the roomful of witches, constantly on the move, totally doing my head in.
I smiled weakly. "Suppose so. I just want her back, being her usual self."
"She will be, don't worry. Why do you think I made the call to Eleanor here? She'll sort out the potion to make her well and that will be that."
"I hope so." I stared at Eleanor at the stove, stirring a pot of something noxious, then at Grandma, sat beside me, smiling away. Oblivious.
As I drove Grandma home, Kate had taken my phone and made a call to Eleanor. She, and way too many other witches, were waiting when we arrived. There hadn't been a minute's peace since. They asked me repeatedly what Govan had said she'd been given, bickering among themselves about why on earth Grandma would have drunk it. I had no answer, just recounted what I'd been told.
None of them were happy about Govan getting away. The dead girl's mother was distraught, I was told, and they would have their vengeance one way or another. I told them I would deal with it, warned them not to interfere. There was still a lot going on. Rikka was still missing for a start, and anyway, the vampires had Govan.
Witches are a funny lot. Many of them hate vampires, but they hate a lot of things, yet not a one of them blamed Kate or even gave her a cross look. They may often be grumpy and crotchety, insist on looking like sweet old ladies as soon as they are of the appropriate age, but they are extremely intelligent and know more about the Hidden world than anyone else, including wizards or mages.
They are specialists, not only of potions, but of the mind. Their magic is based more on human psychology than any external factors, although they can cast some seriously nasty spells on you if you dare cross them.
"You absolutely sure it was a potion of contentment?" shouted Eleanor, looking over her shoulder while still stirring the pot.
"I told you already. Yes. That's what the kid said, anyway."
"Okay then, I think it's ready." Eleanor picked up a mug and ladled the steaming liquid in. She carried it over with two hands, like a gift from a favorite god, careful not to spill a drop. The room went silent. Everyone stared at Grandma, then at the potion.
"Are you sure this will work?" I asked. "What if it doesn't?"
Every witch in the room apart from Grandma scowled at me. "Are you saying I'm a bad witch?" said Eleanor, getting right up in my face so I could see the hairs on the ubiquitous mole. "That I can't make a simple potion to counteract a contentment concoction? Who made it, anyway? That's what I want to know."
I hadn't thought of that, but it was something I wanted to know too. "No, of course not," I protested. "I just want her back. I want her to be Grandma again."
"She will be." Eleanor placed the mug in front of Grandma. She looked up at us with smiling eyes, unfocused but happy. Grandma turned to me and I nodded.
It was like a small part of her understood what was needed. She turned her attention to the frothy green liquid and raised it to her lips.
Everyone leaned forward, a collective holding of the breath while Grandma took the first sip. "Tastes bitter, Eleanor. You should add sugar."
I breathed a sigh of relief. Grandma stared around the room, and said, "What? Why are you lot staring at me like I'm some kind of frog in a hat? Faz, what are you crying for? Are you all right? And what have you done to your hair? Grow it back this instant."
"Yes, Grandma. Right away." I grabbed her and hugged her tight, spilling tea all over the table. She tutted, but smiled at me. She was back, but not quite. Her focus drifted again.
"Get out the way, you stupid boy. She has to drink at least half a cup for her to return to us properly." Man, these witches have serious attitude.
I sat back down. Kate put her hand in mine and we watched as Grandma sipped the potion. Without warning, it was like something snapped.
She jumped up, eyes blazing, magic bouncing off her like the sun off a mirror. "I'm going to kill that man then clean my toilet with his head. And that's just for starters. Where are my shoes?"
"I think she's feeling better," said Kate, smiling.
"I think you could be right."
"Eleanor Winright, if you have been poking about in my garden and messing up my kitchen then there will be hell to pay." Grandma gave her the evil eye and Eleanor backed away. Grandma was definitely herself again.
"I just made you better," said Eleanor. "I gave you my best reversal potion. You should thank me."
"Thank you? What else would you have done? Given me something to make it worse?" Grandma got to her feet, scowled at my hair, and smiled adoringly at Kate. "Right you lot, out you go. I have things to talk about with young Faz and Kate here."
They protested, insisting they needed to know what happened so they could plan their revenge. Then they started whispering about the vampires having Govan as they didn't want to upset Kate. But a witch's whisper is about as subtle as Intus with a red and blue sock in each hand whilst perched on the laundry basket. Grandma would hear none of it.
With a promise she would see them later, and they would have their revenge, she ushered them out the front door. Sighing and tutting, Grandma came back into the kitchen.
"Now then, first order of business, let's go kill the seer."
"Whoa, hold on, Grandma. You've been gone for days, under a spell because you drank a potion. I think you have some explaining to do." I said.
"Oh, you do, do you?" Grandma fixed me with her best stare and I wilted under the power of it. Nothing to do with magic, just Grandma being Grandma.
"Yes, I do," I mumbled.
"He's right, Grandma. We've been terribly worried. Everyone's been running around for days trying to find you. What happened?" asked Kate. "You need to tell us so we know what's going on."
Grandma softened at Kate's words and sat back down, scowling at the spilled potion on the table. Kate cleaned it up and then she was satisfied.
"Stanley came around with this nice young boy, cat shifter vampire, which is unusual, and said he wanted to have a chat. Next thing I know the kid's tucking into poor Matilda and I'm..."
"What? What happened? That's not like you to let a vampire you don't know in. How did Stanley get the better of you, Grandma?" Nobody pulls one over on Grandma. She's ancient and stronger than any mage I have ever met.
"I, er, um..."
Now I was really worried. One thing Grandma is never, is lost for words. It's always the opposite—you can't shut her up. Oh, not that I'd ever want to, of course.
"What? Come on, Grandma. I've been sick with worry and you don't know the half of it yet. What is going on? What happened?"
"Fine, but you asked. Stanley said he'd got his hands on a powerful, er, um..." Grandma looked around the room shiftily. What on earth was happening? "He gave me a love potion, all right? There, I've said it. He told me to close my eyes. Stanley gave me a potion and I thought we were going to, you know, get intimate once we
got rid of the young ones."
"Grandma!"
"I am a woman, Faz. Women have needs. It's been over a hundred years. I'm getting withdrawal symptoms."
"Grandma! No more, please."
"You asked," she said with a wicked smile.
"Okay, what then?"
"It went blurry really quick. I trusted him, Faz, didn't think he would slip me anything untoward. He's always been such a gentleman. I had my eyes closed while he was talking. I felt the potion touch my lips as he poured a drop and I knew in an instant he'd fooled me. But it was strong, and I didn't care. Even as he poured more down my throat, I was happy. Damn spells."
"You liked and trusted him," said Kate, understanding.
Grandma nodded, clearly ashamed. "I'm a very old woman, I should have known better."
"It's better than never letting anyone close." Kate looked at me like she wasn't just talking to Grandma.
"Well, I knew he'd made a fool out of me. I just sat there, not caring. But I seem to remember hearing Matilda and Govan in the kitchen chatting away, and then the screams started. Next thing I knew I was sipping that foul potion made by Eleanor and here we are." She seemed quite perky, but I couldn't picture her wanting to, you know, do it. She's always just looked like Grandma same as she always has. I didn't want to think of her having needs. Ugh, freaks me out!
"What else has been happening? You said there was more to tell me."
"Rikka's gone. Taken. I thought it might have had something to do with you going missing for a while, but maybe not."
"No, this was just Stanley. It's the damn seer in him. He was muttering about having to do it to me as he'd already seen it happen and all that nonsense. I was pretty unfocused by then though. That was one powerful potion he gave me."
"Where would he have got it from?" asked Kate.
"Oh, could be anywhere." Grandma waved the question away. "He could have had it for years. Potions are best used when just prepared, but if you're planning ahead then you can make them that last for centuries. I'm a silly old woman. Can't believe I fell for the oldest trick in the book."
"I'm just glad you're back," I said. "But now I have to go." Grandma was lying, I knew it. Potions like that don't last for years, they last a day or two, tops. I said nothing, sure she had her reasons, or maybe just still slightly confused.
