Abomination

by Sean Stone

  “What have I done?” James said, making no attempt to be quiet.

  “Sssh!” Dean hissed angrily.

  “Why?” whispered James, looking around in puzzlement. Then he realised where they were. “What are we doing at Bradley’s house?”

  “Trying to help. Why don’t you explain why you’re not?”

  “I’m here aren’t I?”

  “How are you here, actually?” Dean hadn’t sent the text he’d been intending to send.

  “Ah, well, I put a little spell on you.”

  “You did what?” Dean snapped, momentarily forgetting to whisper. One of the soldiers stepped around the side of the building and looked right at them. To Dean’s surprise he did nothing. He stared for a moment or two and then returned to his post.

  “I’ve cast an illusion on us. They won’t see us unless they get close.”

  “Right. What about this spell?” Dean said relentlessly.

  “Basically, if you get hurt then I’ll feel it. That way I can keep you safe without being with you every second of the day. I know you probably don’t like it, but I’m not going to take it off you unless you stop running around with Clara and her gang. So why don’t you tell me what you’re doing here?”

  Dean said nothing at first. He was trying to think of a good argument, but there was none. “I need to convince Bradley to spy on Eloise for us.”

  “Us? You mean for Clara,” James said disapprovingly.

  “For everyone. You included. Eloise wants to kill you just as much as the rest of them.”

  “This isn’t my fight. It’s not yours either.”

  “This is everyone’s fight!” Dean said hotly. “How can you not feel a responsibility to stand up to these monsters?”

  “Weren’t you trained to kill supernaturals?” said James, dodging the question. It was a trick Dean had noticed about his father even when he was a teenager. He always dodged a question he didn’t want to answer with a question of his own.

  “I was trained to kill monsters.”

  James sighed deeply and looked at his son with sorrow. “I don’t want you in danger.”

  “It’s not something you can control. I’m not a kid.”

  “Let me help you then. I can give you magic, I can make you a warlock and then you’ll—”

  “Fuck off! I cannot believe you just suggested that!” Dean turned away, his head in his hands. Not even caring that he was smearing blood over his forehead. “I would never stoop so low. There is nothing more cowardly than killing an innocent person to help protect myself and frankly if you had any decency you’d give up all that magic you stole!”

  James stared at his son, clearly hurt by his words and the wounded look on his face made Dean regret them. It was a vicious thing to say. He knew what his father had been through. “If I did that then I really would be a monster,” James said quietly.

  “Being a werewolf doesn’t make you a monster. Your personality defines you, not your species.”

  James chose not to respond to that. Instead he grabbed his son by the shoulder and teleported him into the house. They appeared right in Bradley’s bedroom where the mayor was sitting on the end of his bed massaging his foot. He jumped when he saw them but James threw out a spell that froze him mid-jump, right before he could call for help.

  “We’re not here to hurt you,” said Dean. “If he releases you from that spell are you going to scream?”

  “He can’t answer you,” said James.

  “Well can you make it so he can?” muttered Dean irritated.

  James flicked his finger at Bradley. “Blink once for yes and twice for no.” Bradley blinked twice and James released him completely. He fell onto his back and then quickly got to his feet, taking two quick steps away from them.

  “What do you want?” he hissed.

  “I just wanted to talk to you away from all the protection you’ve got downstairs,” said Dean.

  Bradley laughed derisively. “Protection? They’re not protecting me, they’re making sure I don’t run away.”

  “Why, what does Eloise want with you?”

  “She needs me to be the face of her operation. I’m the spokesman. The person who gives speeches at the town hall and makes the humans feel safe. Also, she’s been out of town for too long to know what’s current amongst the supernatural communities anymore. Once she’s evacuated the humans and started the killing who knows what she’ll do to me,” he said bitterly.

  “It’s a good thing I’m here then,” said Dean. He took the mirror out of his pocket and tossed it to him. Bradley caught it and then looked at Dean as though he was insane. “We need you to spy on Eloise. Get in her good books so she’ll tell you as much as possible. When that mirror glows it means we’re making contact. Get somewhere private and talk to us.”

  “Who’s we, the two of you?”

  “No. Clara, Arthur, the Coven. You know, the good guys,” Dean said. The mention of Clara seemed to help him relax a small amount. He’d worked with her when she’d been part of SIT.

  “Why would I help you?” he asked, but there was no real resistance in his words.

  “Because you want to do the right thing,” Dean said. “Think it over. You’ll be contacted later tonight for your answer. I hope you give the right one.” Dean turned to James and nodded for him to teleport him away. His dad’s hand touched his shoulder and they were gone.

  Chapter 8

  Bradley didn’t leave his bedroom after Dean and James Tenson left. He sat on the edge of his bed staring at the circular mirror in his hand. He was too scared to go downstairs in case the soldiers heard him talking when he was contacted. He was lucky to have been able to keep them out of the house, he’d been sure they’d force their way in. Today had been his worst day as mayor of Cedarstone, not that he was mayor anymore. He was mayor in name only. Eloise had taken control of the town. The Home Secretary herself had approved it. Nobody had even warned Bradley what was coming. Clearly, the government had written Bradley off as a failure. He was lucky to have what small freedom he did. Eloise had confined the councillors to their offices at the town hall. Her orders had been to shoot anyone who tried to escape. Bradley was fairly certain that he was going to be on the receiving end of a bullet when his usefulness had expired. He estimated that to be in two weeks. Nobody who knew the truth about what was going on here would be allowed to live, of that he was certain.

  The mirror glowed yellow and in his surprise he dropped it on the carpeted floor. For a moment he stared at it, considering ignoring it. If he handed it in to Eloise maybe he could convince her to let him live after his usefulness had expired. What good would that be when he was already dying? He’d rather die with his integrity and self-respect. He was the mayor, his job was to look after the town’s people, human or otherwise. He leaned down and picked up the mirror. It was warm in his hands. He flipped the lid and there staring up at him was Arthur Winters.

  “Arthur,” he said in surprise.

  “Bradley,” Arthur said briskly. “You look surprised to see me?”

  “I’d heard you was back from the dead, but actually seeing it is… different entirely,” said Bradley in as low a voice as he could.

  “I can imagine.”

  “I’ll be honest, I was expecting Clara.” Bradley had grown so accustomed to dealing with SIT that when he’d been given the mirror he’d assumed Clara was behind it.

  “She’s preoccupied right now. Dean explained the situation to you?” Arthur said, moving on to the more pressing matter.

  “He did. The thing is, I’m not sure how useful I can be to you. Eloise is using me as a spokesperson. She doesn’t trust me,” he admitted.

  “Still, you’re the closest person we’ve got to her. If you could try and gain her trust, any information you can give us would help.”

  Bradley sighed and scratched his head. “I don’t know…”

  “Is this a matter of payment? What do you want? I’ll give you anything,” Arthur offered. />
  “No, no,” Bradley interjected quickly. He didn’t want Arthur getting the wrong idea. He was no bounty hunter. “I don’t want anything. It’s not about that.”

  “Of course. All the same, I’d like you to help me and in return I’d like to give you something that might help you. Dean said you’re afraid Eloise will kill you? Safety is the obvious issue, but nobody in town is safe anymore. I can’t guarantee your protection but I can promise to try.” As Arthur spoke a thought occurred to Bradley. It was a thought he’d had before but now Arthur had given him the perfect opportunity to ask.

  “Can you…” It was a more difficult question to verbalise than he’d thought. “Can you cure cancer?” he said quickly, wanting to get the words out before he could stop himself. Arthur was the first person he’d told.

  “Oh,” Arthur said and fell silent. His face paled and creased in sympathy. It was how Bradley imagined everyone would look upon hearing such news. Of course, now he’d never get to tell his wife or child the news. “Bradley, I’m so sorry.”

  Bradley nodded his thanks. “Can you?”

  “Magic is miraculous in the things it can do. But even magic has its limits,” said Arthur.

  “You really mean to say that you can bring someone back from the dead but you can’t stop someone from dying?” Bradley snapped. He hadn’t intended to sound so angry. Arthur recoiled.

  “I cannot bring anyone back from the dead. Nature has an order that must be adhered to. Warlocks are aberrations and insults to nature. The things they do go against everything I was ever taught.”

  “So you’re saying I should go to a warlock?”

  “No. I would never suggest that. Even for a warlock these miracles of magic are near impossible. Remember, the warlock who brought me back is one of a kind. No warlock will ever match his power,” Arthur said considerately. As gentle as he was being his words were still tearing Bradley apart.

  “So, Nickolas Blackwood could cure my cancer?” Even as he said he knew it was a stupid idea. He had nothing to offer Nickolas. Blackwood would never help him and he’d never be stupid enough to ask.

  “Possibly. But I can’t begin to imagine what you’d need to do to persuade him.” Arthur looked about him and then refocused on Bradley. “How far gone are you?”

  “Far enough that the doctors can’t do anything to help me,” he said quietly. It was as though talking about it was making it more real and now he knew there was no magical cure he did not want to face up to the reality of the situation.

  “I can’t cure you, but I can slow the illness down and… when the time comes I can make it painless,” he offered.

  “Thank you.” It was not what he wanted but it was a mercy nonetheless.

  “Will you help me?” Arthur asked again.

  “Yes.” Bradley had known what his answer would be from the start. He would’ve said yes even if Arthur had offered nothing. He was mayor, he had a duty to the town. He hadn’t gotten into politics for the control and the manipulations. He’d gotten into this career because he genuinely cared about people. Everything had changed when he’d been elected as a councillor and learned the truth about Cedarstone. “Tomorrow morning I will be announcing the evacuation plans on the steps of the town hall. Eloise is going to start evacuating the town. No vehicles will be allowed on the roads so make sure you don’t use any. They will attack anyone in a car. The police have been dismissed. I doubt the officers will be allowed to leave. Eloise doesn’t trust that they’re in the dark. She’ll likely kill them all as well as the councillors who she has locked in their offices.”

  “How will they be evacuating people?”

  “Street by street. People will be taken by bus to the East exit that leads to the A228. Anyone trying to leave town via any other route will be shot. At the checkpoint their blood will be tested and if they’re cleared as human they’ll be allowed to leave.”

  “Where will they evacuate first?” asked Arthur. He was scribbling everything Bradley said down.

  “They’ll start in Higham and work from East to West.”

  “What can you tell me about their weapons?”

  “They have silver-iron alloy bullets and wooden bullets infused with cobra venom. They have other equipment but I don’t know what it is,” said Bradley honestly. “Oh, and you should stay away from your company,” he added, remembering something Eloise had said.

  “Winters Research?” asked Arthur, puzzled.

  “Yes. Eloise is preparing to lock it down. She’s worried there might be something you can use against her there.”

  “What about the staff?” Arthur said, panicked.

  “Anyone who tries to get in that building tomorrow will be turned away. Or shot. I’m not sure which.”

  “Alright. Thanks for your help. Keep the mirror on you at all times and I’ll been touch,” Arthur said hurriedly before he vanished and the mirror was just a mirror again. Bradley put it down on his bedside table and then fell back on his bed. He was filled with a sense of impending doom, but at least in the middle of it he felt pride at having done the right thing. If he was going to die he would die carrying out his duty as elected mayor. He’d do what he always intended to do and look after people.

  Arthur closed the mirror and then tucked it inside his jacket after relaying the information from Bradley to the rest of the coven. Coming back to life wasn’t as relaxed as he’d thought it might be, he’d walked in to a war zone. No less than he deserved he supposed, after all that was how he’d left it. He certainly never thought he’d be working with a member of the town council, he’d always thought of them as the enemy. It was a welcome shock that Bradley had agreed to help. It was nice that an official in the town hall was actually taking their duty seriously. Speaking of duty… Adam.

  Arthur stood up from his desk and walked over to the drinks cabinet. He poured himself a large brandy and then took a heavy gulp. Adam had been on his mind a lot this last week. Ever since he’d refused to give up the Montford Magic. Arthur hadn’t spoken to him once. He’d tried to phone him a few times, but never got an answer. He knew where Adam was living, but hadn’t mustered up the courage to visit. He was scared of what he might find. Adam had been his friend, he’d stood with Arthur when he fought the council. The Adam who had refused to give up the stolen magic was not the same. He’d being twisted and warped into an ugly shade of himself. Arthur couldn’t blame him; he’d lost his wife and son and he’d had to watch the monster who’d murdered them do so with his own hands. Arthur couldn’t imagine what state he’d be in if he’d watched his own hands murder Clara.

  Arthur couldn’t afford to be scared anymore. Adam needed his help and frankly he could do with Adam’s help. He needed to fix his friend up and get him back in the coven. Arthur finished his drink, had two more and then headed out, remembering not to take his car.

  The house Adam was renting was nowhere near as nice as his old one. It was a small shabby building with faded grey brick and a roof that had lost most of its tiles. The windows were grimy with filth and the patch of grass beneath the front window was seriously overgrown. The two houses it was wedged in between were in no better condition. Adam had owned his previous house, but the insurance company had refused to pay-out after the fire. Arson wasn’t covered. Adam still had his job at the museum although according to Arthur’s source, he hadn’t turned up once. Understandable really.

  Arthur stepped up to the door and banged hard on the cheap-feeling knocker. A few minutes passed and nobody answered the door. There was not a single sound from inside the house, yet Arthur knew Adam was in. He knocked again, harder this time. Once again there was no answer. He squatted in front of the letter box and pushed it open. He could see the hallway. On the light brown carpet was a pile of take-away menus and junk mail.

  “Adam!” he called. “It’s me, Arthur. Please talk to me. I want to help you.” The letter box suddenly banged shut, the shock knocked Arthur backwards onto his rear end. He tutted at himself for not expect
ing Adam to do that. He pulled himself back into his squat and tried to reopen the letter box but it would not budge. Adam had sealed it with magic. “You know where to find me if you change your mind,” Arthur mumbled before heading home.

  Adam was stood at the end of the hall and stared at the front door. He’d wanted to open the door, but he knew that it would not end well if he did. He wanted Arthur’s help, he needed Arthur’s help, but he knew that his help would consist of giving up the magic Adam now had. Adam didn’t want the magic. It was filthy vile magic that had been stolen by the most deplorable deeds and yet it was the only thing that could protect him from savages like Henry Montford. Without the magic he was weak and vulnerable. If he’d had magic like this before then Henry would never have been able to take over this body. He never would have killed Nicole and Tommy. But then, the counter argument was that relying on the magic made him weak. A strong man would be able to find better ways to defend himself. Less devilish ways.

  “Oh, don’t talk such rubbish! Magic is the only defence.” Adam turned slowly and saw the familiar and sickening face of Henry Montford. It had lost the terrifying effect it had had the first time he’d seen it. Not long after he’d refused to give up the magic Henry had appeared to congratulate him on a decision well made. Of course, Adam knew that Henry wasn’t really there. He was a figment of his imagination, an extension of his psyche. How else would he know what Adam was thinking so often? Just because Henry no longer scared Adam, it didn’t mean he wasn’t tired of his company. On the contrary, Adam was sick of Henry’s leering face and his annoying voice. He had tried to destroy him on numerous occasions, but obviously, the spells just went right through him.

  “Fuck off,” Adam muttered and left the room.

  “That’s rude,” Henry said and followed Adam through to the kitchen. “You don’t really want me to go. You love having me around. We’re close. Intimate. We shared a body. It doesn’t get more intimate than that.” He whispered the last line right into Adam’s ear. Adam wheeled around, but Henry was gone.