by Sean Stone
“For fuck’s sake!” Clara yelled when she left Morgan’s and walked into a shower of rain.
“Couldn’t you just magic up an umbrella?” said Dean, pulling this jacket over his head to shield himself from the torrential downpour.
Clara huffed loudly at herself for not thinking of that, then raised her hand up to the sky and produced a barrier to shelter them from the rain. The raindrops hit the invisible shield and bounced off again.
“Nice,” mumbled Dean, dropping his jacket. “So, what now?” he asked as they headed back to the car, watching out for soldiers as they went.
“Now, we don’t have many options left. In fact we have none. We’ll just…” She stopped talking when Dean suddenly fell to the floor and lay motionless. “Dean?” she cried out in alarm, dropping to her knees. In her panic the shield above her vanished and the rain fell on them heavily, but she barely noticed. She touched a finger to his neck. There was a pulse. He was alive but unconscious. What had happened to him? Clara heard footsteps clip-clopping towards her.
Looking up she saw the knee-high boots with the long heels first and knew who it was without needing to see the rest. Up her eyes travelled, over the tight black jeans and the knee length leather jacket to the small angular face and straight dark hair of Kristen Dagmar. Kristen was walking across the car park leisurely, a slight smirk on her face.
“What are you doing?” Clara yelled, getting to her feet. She drew magic into her hands.
“What needs to be done,” Kristen called back. Then she threw a spell right at Clara. Clara only just got a shield up in time and the spell dissipated inches from her face. “Very nice. You’ve been practicing,” said Kristen before throwing three more spells. Clara’s shield broke them all, but the last one nearly broke through. Clara didn’t wait for Kristen to try again, she threw a spell of her own which the warlock batted aside lazily. “There wasn’t much effort in that attack,” she said as if reviewing a meal.
“Why are you attacking us?” Clara demanded, dodging another spell.
“Not us. You,” came the reply.
Clara threw another spell, this time putting as much force as she could muster into it. The spell charged at Kristen who blocked it, but even as she did it knocked her balance and nearly sent her down.
“Not bad,” she said, impressed. “You’ve come a long way from the days when Jamal taught you scraps of magic here and there. But a duel is about more than just throwing spells.” Kristen vanished.
The next attack hit Clara in the back and sent her tumbling to the hard wet ground. The wind was knocked out of her and she could feel that her arm and leg had cut open. She rolled onto her side in time to see Kristen running at her, already preparing another spell. Clara didn’t think, she just threw her arms up. Forks of violent silver lightening shot out of her palms and smacked Kristen right in the chest. The warlock yelped as she was thrown off her feet, electricity surging through her. Her hair stood up on end like a cartoon and then she smashed into the ground with such force that the concrete cracked. Kristen groaned as she rolled on to her front.
“I don’t know why you’re attacking me—” Clara started as she climbed to knees, but before she could finish Kristen’s hand was stretched towards the skies. Clara looked up in time to see the spell. The rain drops were hardening, freezing to icicles, their ends pointed and they were coming down at Clara. She raised her own hand and conjured a shield. The icicles hit the shield and stayed frozen in mid-air. Clara could feel the weight bearing down on her from Kristen’s continued attack.
“How long can you hold me off for?” Kristen demanded. She was back on her feet now. Clara tried to stand, but the attack was forcing her down.
“Why are you doing this?” she screamed. If she was going to die then she wanted to know why.
“Because you’re his reason to—”
“Kristen!” Screamed a new furious voice. All eyes turned and saw James standing by his son, staring lividly at Kristen. Kristen’s jaw dropped in what almost looked like fear, if she was capable of such emotions. “What have you done to my son?” James shouted.
“He’s just asleep!” she called back quickly. She dropped her arm and the icicles melted at once. Clara released her shield and stood up, watching the scene unfold.
James placed a hand on Deans chest for confirmation, then he stood and stormed over to Kristen. “What are you playing at? Why are you attacking her?” he demanded.
“For us!” Kristen screamed indignantly.
James whipped his head to Clara. “Get him to safety!” he shouted. Then he grabbed Kristen and the two of them vanished.
Clara fell down to the floor panting furiously. She’d come so close to death and she didn’t even know why. She was very glad for the lessons she’d had with her father. Had it not been for them then that lightning attack might never have happened and Kristen might have killed her before James had arrived. Her dad was going to have a hard time believing that James Tenson had rescued her. Clara pulled herself up and then went to get Dean wondering if Kristen was going to be a threat in future or if James was sorting it. Nothing was ever simple.
Chapter 21
Clara stood at the bottom of the garden watching Marlon burn on the funeral pyre. His ashes would be interred with the other deceased coven members in the Coven Mausoleum. Toni had explained that usually they did not hold funerals in their gardens but under the circumstances a proper funeral wasn’t possible. Even though she’d spent the last few hours with Dean and he had done a good job of making her feel better, she still looked at the fire and felt responsible. She had to be smarter from here on, no more charging around on her own.
Arthur walked slowly over to her. “I’m sorry for how I was earlier,” he whispered, respectful of the funeral going on. He’d linked the mirror system to a larger one which the rest of the coven were watching the funeral via. Clara had returned the master mirror to Arthur now. She wondered if Bianca was watching.
“Don’t be. You was right,” Clara replied.
“What I said was right. The way I said it was wrong,” he clarified. “I spoke to you like you was a child and if there’s one thing I’ve learned lately it’s that you’re not a child. In my absence you’ve done a blinding job of protecting this town and you don’t deserve to be belittled in anyway. I might not have said this, but I am incredibly proud of you.”
Clara nodded. “You actually have said before. Several times,” she said and let out a small laugh.
Arthur smiled and then began leading her away from the fire so they could talk more freely. “According to Eddie, Ramsay survived the attack on the club,” he said. Eddie was the guy who’d helped relieve Adam of his magic. Clara hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting him, but she’d been told all about his abilities by her father. He certainly sounded interesting. If they survived this ordeal he might be useful in future battles.
“So we need Richie to take back the clan before he comes for us,” she said. No doubt Ramsay knew they were behind Richie’s rescue.
“And that’s the other problem. Richie isn’t showing any signs of recovering any time soon,” Arthur said, shaking his head sombrely.
“Then we need to convince Ramsay that we were not responsible for Richie’s rescue. If I go there asking to reconsider the alliance it might make him doubt our involvement. If we had Richie why would still want him?” suggested Clara. Arthur did not look convinced.
“It’s worth a try, but I’m not sure about you going,” he said, looking beyond her to the other people in the garden. Only Dean and Toni were there.
“Dad, don’t get overprotective. I’ve learned my lesson. Ramsay isn’t impervious to magic. I can handle him,” she insisted. She’d be more cautious this time, but she was not going to hide away in the house.
“Alright, but take Dean. He has experience fighting vampires and I’d feel better off knowing he was with you,” said Arthur.
“Done,” said Clara. She was happy to have a reason to spe
nd time with Dean on a solo mission. Since their chat in her bedroom he’d really grown on her. When she looked at him she saw a far gentler person than the grumpy git she’d met weeks ago.
“Be careful, Sweetie,” he said as she walked over to Dean.
“I will be,” she replied without looking back.
There was no barmaid at Morgan’s when Clara and Dean arrived. They made their way down to the manor unimpeded. When they arrived the evidence of the attack was everywhere. Crimson pools adorned the stone walls and floor. Tapestries and paintings were ripped and hanging on for dear life.
“I wonder how Eloise will react to this,” Dean said, as he stepped over a pool of blood.
“She’ll send more soldiers,” said Clara. It seemed to be the answer to everything when it came to Eloise.
They turned the corner and came to a set of double doors which were open wide, voices spilled out.
“We cannot ignore this. We need to strike back and we need to strike back soon,” said one.
“Yes, Jacob, I heard you the first five times you said it,” said Ramsay irritably. “Need I remind you who is in charge?”
“Of course not,” said Jacob, far more humbly.
Clara and Dean walked in. They were in a great hall, easily the largest room Clara had ever been in, it looked like a castle throne room. As Clara looked up the hall she saw that there was an ugly throne atop a dais looking down over the hall. She’d always known that Richie was eccentric, but she’d never thought he actually had a throne. In the middle of the room vampires were piling dead soldiers whilst at the other end wounded vampires were being seen to. The very fact that the soldiers had managed to cause lasting wounds to vampires terrified Clara. Ramsay stood before the dais observing with Jacob at his side. As Clara approached she saw that Ramsay was splattered from head to toe in blood. His eyes locked onto Clara’s and his lips stretched in a sneer.
“Clara Winters, back again so soon and you’ve bought a friend. Is he for me, as a way of apology? I could do with a meal and he looks appetising,” said Ramsay, eyeing up Dean.
“Try and sink those fangs into me. See what happens,” said Dean, sticking his chin out aggressively. Clara admired his balls, but now was not the time for bravado.
“We’re here because we heard about the attack and thought you might have reconsidered your decision,” she said.
“I don’t suppose you’ve seen Richie anywhere?” Ramsay said, raising an eyebrow quizzically.
Clara looked at Jacob whose eyes were fixed on the floor. “No,” she said, looking back at Ramsay. “I thought you had him sedated?”
“I thought so too, but during the festivities tonight he seems to have absconded. Jacob here,” he placed an arm around Jacob who tensed under his touch, “has assured me, that he knows nothing of Richie’s escape. You however, have a very clear motive and I did catch a rather troublesome warlock snooping around earlier. It seems to me that he was your distraction, despite swearing that he had no affiliation with your lot.”
“Ramsay, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I know of no warlock,” Clara lied easily, looking him right in the eye. “I was in the High Street fighting Eloise this evening as was my father and his Coven.” She neglected to mention that most of the Coven were not there and that the event had taken place after the rescue of Richie.
“I’m sure you have a solid alibi. But I’m not the police, I don’t require one to wage war on you,” Ramsay said malevolently, taking a step towards her.
“Back up, pal,” warned Dean, also stepping forwards.
“Most vampires can’t fight me. Do you really want to try your hand?” asked Ramsay.
“Ramsay, if they had Richie why would they need to ask you for help?” Jacob said quietly, finally looking up from the floor.
Ramsay considered his words and then took a single step back. “Jacob raises a valid point. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, but if I get the smallest bit of evidence that you were involved…”
“You’ll rip our heads off. Yeah we get it,” said Clara. “Now, how about that alliance?”
“I think not,” said Ramsay. He turned and ascended the dais. Clara watched him lower himself grandly into the throne and then cross one leg over the other.
“Why not? You’ve just been attacked!” she protested.
“It was a meagre attack at best. Make no mistake, I will get revenge, but I’ll do it alone and in my own time.”
“Ramsay, please. This isn’t a game. Lives are at stake. You have enough vampires to end this war tomorrow if you just marched on the town hall. We could assist you with magic,” she implored him.
“I could end this war right now. But where would be the fun in that? Besides, I need to find my pet. A man just isn’t the same without his companion. It’s terribly lonely without Richie,” he mocked.
“Come on, Clara, this is a waste of time,” said Dean.
“Yes, listen to your little friend and run along. Before I change my mind about giving you the benefit of the doubt.”
Clara had so many nasty remarks she wanted to make, but the adult in her forced her to hold her tongue. Peace with the vampires was tentative without her making it worse. As she left she hoped that Arthur had found a way to speed up Richie’s recovery.
“For fuck’s sake!” Clara yelled when she left Morgan’s and walked into a shower of rain.
“Couldn’t you just magic up an umbrella?” said Dean, pulling this jacket over his head to shield himself from the torrential downpour.
Clara huffed loudly at herself for not thinking of that, then raised her hand up to the sky and produced a barrier to shelter them from the rain. The raindrops hit the invisible shield and bounced off again.
“Nice,” mumbled Dean, dropping his jacket. “So, what now?” he asked as they headed back to the car, watching out for soldiers as they went.
“Now, we don’t have many options left. In fact we have none. We’ll just…” She stopped talking when Dean suddenly fell to the floor and lay motionless. “Dean?” she cried out in alarm, dropping to her knees. In her panic the shield above her vanished and the rain fell on them heavily, but she barely noticed. She touched a finger to his neck. There was a pulse. He was alive but unconscious. What had happened to him? Clara heard footsteps clip-clopping towards her.
Looking up she saw the knee-high boots with the long heels first and knew who it was without needing to see the rest. Up her eyes travelled, over the tight black jeans and the knee length leather jacket to the small angular face and straight dark hair of Kristen Dagmar. Kristen was walking across the car park leisurely, a slight smirk on her face.
“What are you doing?” Clara yelled, getting to her feet. She drew magic into her hands.
“What needs to be done,” Kristen called back. Then she threw a spell right at Clara. Clara only just got a shield up in time and the spell dissipated inches from her face. “Very nice. You’ve been practicing,” said Kristen before throwing three more spells. Clara’s shield broke them all, but the last one nearly broke through. Clara didn’t wait for Kristen to try again, she threw a spell of her own which the warlock batted aside lazily. “There wasn’t much effort in that attack,” she said as if reviewing a meal.
“Why are you attacking us?” Clara demanded, dodging another spell.
“Not us. You,” came the reply.
Clara threw another spell, this time putting as much force as she could muster into it. The spell charged at Kristen who blocked it, but even as she did it knocked her balance and nearly sent her down.
“Not bad,” she said, impressed. “You’ve come a long way from the days when Jamal taught you scraps of magic here and there. But a duel is about more than just throwing spells.” Kristen vanished.
The next attack hit Clara in the back and sent her tumbling to the hard wet ground. The wind was knocked out of her and she could feel that her arm and leg had cut open. She rolled onto her side in time to see Kristen running at her, already p
reparing another spell. Clara didn’t think, she just threw her arms up. Forks of violent silver lightening shot out of her palms and smacked Kristen right in the chest. The warlock yelped as she was thrown off her feet, electricity surging through her. Her hair stood up on end like a cartoon and then she smashed into the ground with such force that the concrete cracked. Kristen groaned as she rolled on to her front.
“I don’t know why you’re attacking me—” Clara started as she climbed to knees, but before she could finish Kristen’s hand was stretched towards the skies. Clara looked up in time to see the spell. The rain drops were hardening, freezing to icicles, their ends pointed and they were coming down at Clara. She raised her own hand and conjured a shield. The icicles hit the shield and stayed frozen in mid-air. Clara could feel the weight bearing down on her from Kristen’s continued attack.
“How long can you hold me off for?” Kristen demanded. She was back on her feet now. Clara tried to stand, but the attack was forcing her down.
“Why are you doing this?” she screamed. If she was going to die then she wanted to know why.
“Because you’re his reason to—”
“Kristen!” Screamed a new furious voice. All eyes turned and saw James standing by his son, staring lividly at Kristen. Kristen’s jaw dropped in what almost looked like fear, if she was capable of such emotions. “What have you done to my son?” James shouted.
“He’s just asleep!” she called back quickly. She dropped her arm and the icicles melted at once. Clara released her shield and stood up, watching the scene unfold.
James placed a hand on Deans chest for confirmation, then he stood and stormed over to Kristen. “What are you playing at? Why are you attacking her?” he demanded.
“For us!” Kristen screamed indignantly.
James whipped his head to Clara. “Get him to safety!” he shouted. Then he grabbed Kristen and the two of them vanished.
