Bitter Moon: Urban Witch Series - Book 2

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Bitter Moon: Urban Witch Series - Book 2 Page 8

by R. L. Giddings


  We left when a group of P.E. teachers arrived and started organising a Mini-Olympics breaking the women up into teams. There was some initial resistance to the groups but the staff appeared to have anticipated this and got around it by letting the more difficult members assume the responsibility of choosing the colour of their team’s tabards. Valeria had her hands full placating everyone.

  When my phone vibrated I tried to ignore it. The women weren’t allowed access to phones so I didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that I had one. But I was curious and welcomed any distraction from the idea of visiting the Secure Unit. So I went over to one of the long P.E. benches and pretended to tie up my shoe-lace. At the same time I was able to surreptitiously check my messages.

  It was from Silas.

  I instantly looked up, certain that everyone in the room knew my secret but, of course, they didn’t. They were simply arranging themselves into groups.

  What time do you finish? I’ll pick you up.

  My head felt like it was ready to explode. ‘What time do you finish?’ Did they even know where I was? I felt suddenly very hot indeed.

  I looked around. No one was paying me the slightest bit of attention yet I felt riddled with guilt and, when I looked back at the screen the message was still there.

  What was I meant to do?

  Without thinking, I quickly composed a reply.

  East entrance. 4pm.

  I’d pressed ‘Send’ before I knew it. It was ludicrous. I was responding to text messages from a dead man. Did I honestly think that Silas was on the other end of the phone? Ludicrous, yes, but a small part of me was ridiculously excited at the prospect.

  I checked the phone before replacing it in my pocket, my heart racing. I walked casually back towards the women, glancing from left to right. Millie was helping group the women in a circle.

  I looked up to see Kinsella standing on the balcony overlooking the gym. Our eyes met briefly and then I looked away.

  Did he know?

  I went over to Millie and touched her on the back.

  “He’s here,” I said.

  Millie was holding a netball and looked reluctant about surrendering it. She passed it to one of the women in the circle.

  She looked at me and nodded. It was time to go. We had finally run out of excuses.

  We met up with Kinsella outside and then headed off to the Secure Unit situated at the centre of the campus. It was only a few minutes’ walk away though I secretly wished that it was much, much further.

  The women weren’t safe here, being in such close proximity to two such powerful witches. It was like asking for trouble. The Novices could play all the games of netball they liked but that didn’t dispel the threat posed by Stahl and Anathema. Just because they hadn’t reached out to these women so far was no guarantee that they wouldn’t do so in the future. The sooner we were able to get the Novices away from them the better.

  We followed a covered walkway out towards what looked like a modern airport terminal. Two storeys high with lots of smoked glass. It even had its own entrance hall. The signs of its recent construction were still apparent: a scaffolding pole lay against a curb; a stack of pallets was still sheathed in plastic and the concrete sprawl of the entranceway was uniformly fresh.

  The tension between us was palpable.

  “Last chance to turn back,” Kinsella said.

  But there wasn’t much hope of that. I found that I was holding onto Millie’s hand and wondered when that had happened. We looked at one another. I considered saying something but nothing I could have said could deflect from what we were about to do.

  We went through the main door together. I would have hated to have had to have gone in on my own.

  After we had surrendered our phones at reception we were shown towards the bizarre security pods which gave access to the inner building. Once through we were met by a member of staff who warned us about not taking in any symbolic items which might carry a latent charge. The fear was that these items might be used against us. But none of us was wearing anything extraneous – we’d already been thoroughly briefed - and so we were allowed to go through. All the stripped wood on display reminded me of a lodge I’d stayed at once in Finland. I’d thought that it had been very exotic at the time. But this place wasn’t exotic, it was charged with a sense of foreboding.

  Even though the windows were darkened on the outside you could still see out through them and I wondered whether Kinsella had considered this. The Novices would have had to routinely pass this building on their way across the campus with little idea of who might be watching from inside.

  We saw Anathema first, sitting on a sofa, book in hand. Her trademark leather jacket was gone, replaced by a loose fitting sweatshirt and jogging bottoms. The effect was disconcerting. It was like watching an actor in the rehearsal room. The book could have so easily been a script. But as soon as she turned her brooding gaze in my direction I was quickly reminded who it was that I was dealing with.

  Stahl – or what was left of her - was up in the rafters clinging to a crossbeam. All we could see was the back of her gown which was sodden with sweat. She looked like a giant insect scurrying about up there. Even when you didn’t look at her you were conscious of her laboured breathing. She never acknowledged us the whole time we were there. Just hung there like a bad dream.

  Once we’d gotten over the shock of seeing her like that our attention shifted back to Anathema.

  Millie opened her mouth and shut it again. Kinsella moved around the room’s perimeter, as though browsing around a shop.

  “Does she say much?” I asked.

  Anathema looked up from her book.

  “She? There’s no ‘she’ about it. If anything, it’s a ‘they’ and yes, they talk all the time. The trick is not to listen.”

  “That must be hard, especially at night.”

  “You get used to it.”

  I indicated the room’s furnishings. “You haven’t done too badly for yourself. Considering.”

  “Considering what? Considering that I have yet to be charged with any crime.”

  “That’s only a matter of time. I hear that the Inner Court are considering your case as we speak.”

  Kinsella looked up at that, Anathema making no attempt to suppress her smile. She hadn’t known about the Inner Court. I was going to have to watch what I said in future.

  “At the very least, you’re linked to Silas’ murder.”

  “That boyfriend of yours? I think you’ll find that I was as traumatised by that as you were. Don’t you remember? I was in the cabin, consoling you. A real shock. Have they found his body yet?”

  “No.” She was mocking me.

  “Nor will they.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She eyed me over the top of her book. “I think you know exactly what I mean.”

  And with that she went and put her book back on the bookshelf. Then she went over and started rummaging through a big box of board games.

  I wanted to scream at her then. What did she mean: nor will they? Did she know that Silas was alive or had they done something to ensure that his body wouldn’t be found?

  Anathema seemed very unconcerned as she picked out a jigsaw puzzle. This wasn’t the same creature who had haunted my dreams of late. The casual clothing helped to soften her appearance and her face was fuller, less drawn. She must have put on weight being cooped up inside all day. I wondered if it would help me, seeing her like this. Whether I’d sleep more soundly.

  Millie and I went over and sat on a window seat while Kinsella finished looking around. Neither one of us spoke we were too busy watching Anathema as she emptied the contents of the puzzle onto the table. She just stood there, completely relaxed as she rifled through the pieces of puzzle.

  Before we left, I steeled myself to take one last look at Stahl hanging from the beam. It was disconcerting to look at her like that, her long dark hair dangling straight down. As if she sensed our presence, she
scrabbled around so that her head faced towards us, all the while shivering like a malaria victim.

  As I watched, her head started to turn in my direction. I should really have left at that point. But I stayed.

  It was her eyes that I’ll remember most: impossibly huge ovoids, which roved about the room. For a moment they fixed on me and I anticipated the thrill of recognition - but there was none. She saw me and yet didn’t see me. Valeria had been right, there was nothing in that gaze that reminded me of the old Stahl. If she was still in there, inhabiting some dark corner perhaps, then there was no hint of it that day. And I felt strangely ashamed of myself then because I counted that as a tiny, private victory.

  Three days later she was dead.

  *

  Once we were clear of the room we moved with barely disguised relief. Neither Kinsella nor Millie had uttered a word the whole time we’d been in there.

  When I’d first had the itinerary of events explained to me I’d initially baulked at the idea of taking a shower before we left but, now that we were clear of their room, I couldn’t wait to get clean. The clothes we wore were to be incinerated. Again, that had seemed to be overly cautious but now I completely understood the reasoning behind it. Stahl was no longer of this world. She was a visitor from some other place and we would do well to ensure that no part of her strayed into our world. The three of us had been tainted by what we had seen and I worried that no amount of showers would ever get us clean again. As soon as I entered the changing rooms I started kicking off my trainers.

  *

  After we’d done showering, I was anxious to talk to Millie about the text. I wanted to hear what she thought I should do. Problem was that I already knew what she would say: It’s a trap, don’t even think about meeting him.

  I knew how ridiculous the idea of the meeting sounded but I still wanted her blessing. I wanted her to agree that there might still be a chance that he was alive. I wanted her to urge me to go and meet him.

  Even though I could see how deluded I’d become I still wanted to go ahead with it. I just couldn’t help myself. I put off saying anything until we were getting dressed.

  When Millie asked me how I was getting home I tried to make a joke of it.

  “Silas is picking me up. Fancy a lift?”

  To give Millie her credit, she didn’t miss a beat.

  “Marcus, you mean. Marcus is giving you a lift.”

  I started buttoning my blouse.

  “No, you heard right. Silas. He texted me earlier.”

  Millie was drying her hair with a towel. She stopped what she was doing and pulled a face.

  “You’re saying Silas’s coming to pick you up?”

  “That’s right. That’s exactly what I said.”

  Millie walked over and opened the changing room door. Kinsella was sitting outside slipping on his shoes.

  “Have you heard this?”

  Kinsella looked up, his shirt still unbuttoned.

  “What?”

  I quickly got between the pair of them, arching my eyebrows at Millie for her to shut up.

  Millie looked at me, her lips pressed together.

  Eventually, she said, “Bronte thinks we should go get a drink.”

  Kinsella pulled a face. “Not a bad idea.”

  There was a pause then Millie said, “Wanna join us?”

  Kinsella busied himself with his shoe-laces. “I’ve got things to do but you two should go ahead. Want me to drop you somewhere?”

  “Nah, that’s okay,” Millie said. “The walk’ll do us good.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  We went out back through the security entrance only this time we were subjected to the most perfunctory of scans. Then we went back through reception to pick up our valuables. Kinsella went first and once he’d picked up his car keys he raised them as if repeating his offer of a lift but we declined. We waited for him to leave before we redeemed our bags. I took out my phone and switched it on. Then, as soon as I was able, I started scrolling through my messages.

  Initially, I couldn’t see it so then I had to scroll back up the screen.

  “There it is,” I said, trying to hide the relief in my voice. What if it hadn’t been there? What then?

  Millie took the phone off me.

  “Could be from anyone,” she said.

  “No,” I said, snatching it back. “It’s his number. And it’s not the first time he’s tried to contact me. He rang me once before.”

  “And you spoke to him?”

  “No. I didn’t actually speak to him. But there was someone on the other end: listening.”

  Millie made a clucking noise.

  “But it’s from his actual phone! Who else could it be?”

  Millie gave me a sad look which hurt me more than anything she could have possibly said. She felt sorry for me. Sad, stupid, deluded little me, over-reacting to what was clearly a prank call.

  “Bronte, you must know that this isn’t Silas.”

  “Could be.”

  “You’re not thinking of going ahead with this, are you? You’re not seriously considering meeting up with him?”

  “Look, I was considering not saying anything and just going along on my own. I could have but I decided not to. That’s why I’m telling you about it now.”

  “So you do want to meet him.”

  “If that’s alright.”

  *

  It was only when Millie volunteered to take my place that I realised just how stupid I was being. I’d be exposing her to a very real danger with no way of knowing who might show up. There might be a whole gang of them who could simply bundle Millie up and kidnap her. It was lunacy! And yet, that was exactly what I had been proposing.

  Of course, the real Silas wouldn’t have been tricked by Millie taking my place. For him, it was less to do with appearance and more to do with smell. A werewolf’s olfactory powers are a thousand times more sensitive than those of the average person.

  It was Millie who came up with the compromise. She asked me if I still had the spheres Kinsella had given me back at the Rehab Centre. I had both of them in my handbag. I’d taken them out of their containers and wrapped them in bubble wrap. The box took up too much room.

  I fished one out and started to unwrap it. The colours within shifted endlessly, rolling over one another in constant motion. Each colour was pin-sharp: pure white opals, tiger-lily oranges and arterial reds. The purest of pure colours.

  Millie took the sphere between finger and thumb, turning it this way and that.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  Then, as quickly as she had taken it, she placed it back in the palm of my hand closing my fingers over it. Her gaze was intense.

  “Promise me that if anything goes wrong you won’t hesitate to use it?”

  I hesitated. How could I willingly destroy something so beautiful? But when I didn’t answer, Millie wrapped both her hands around mine.

  “Promise?”

  “Alright,” I said. “I promise.”

  “Just don’t wait too long to use it.”

  The next question was: where was Millie going to watch from? Although the campus was designed especially for pedestrians there was a reasonable sized car park by the eastern entrance. Normally, there would have been plenty of parked cars to hide behind but the security team had cleared them all out. I’d rung Valeria to arrange for the entrance and exit on that side to be left open to normal traffic. I worried that if they only opened one side that Silas might stay away, fearing a trap. The entrance wasn’t guarded as such but there were enough protective wards about the place to discourage any potential attacker.

  Access onto the campus was one way, sweeping in and out in a wide C shape. There was a small island pick up point for pedestrians and behind that a wider bay area large enough to accommodate coaches.

  We decided that I should wait on the little pedestrian island. There was a row of low-slung sheds behind there housing the campus’ refuse bins and Millie took it upon
herself to hide there. It was smelly but she didn’t really have any other options, the lawns which provided access to the rest of the campus had been designed to provide clear, open access. Apart from the odd tree there was virtually no other cover. Not so much as a small bush.

  Which left me standing out on the pedestrian island feeling very exposed. Millie had taken my handbag so as to free up my hands. My mobile was squeezed into my back pocket whilst the sphere was cradled in the pouch of my sweatshirt.

  I had only been standing there for a couple of minutes when a green Renault swung in through the entrance over on my right. My hand instinctively went to the sphere. As the car drew closer I could hear loud dance music being piped out through the sunroof. The car’s chassis was slung low to the ground whilst the wheels were covered with modern alloys which belied the car’s true age.

  Instead of turning into the coach stop the car carried on along the service road. There were three men inside, all in their twenties. The one in the passenger seat stuck his head out of the window.

  “Fancy a lift!” he shouted before the driver accelerated away, the exhaust popping.

  I turned back towards the sheds but there was no sign of Millie. She was taking this whole thing very seriously and I loved her for that. I knew that there was every chance that no-one would turn up but I felt that I could live with that if Millie was the only one who knew. She wasn’t the sort of person to say: I told you so. She was just being supportive.

  But all the time that I stood there I was going over the facts. The fact that the message had come from Silas’ own phone gave me some solace. There was no way that that could be faked. Whoever the hoaxer might be, they’d gotten the phone from somewhere. Either it had been taken from him at Lindqvist’s house or recovered from Silas’ body after it had been hauled from the Thames. Whichever one it was I’d like to know more.

 

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