Stiles stopped short and folded his arms. ‘Okay. How the hell do you know that? You talk as if you’d met them.’
‘No, I just get around, hear things.’
‘But you do talk about them as if you remember them. How old are you?’ This was a rhetorical question, so Stiles was fairly staggered when she answered. ‘Oh, I don’t know, I lost count several millennia ago.’
He stared at her; she nodded.
‘Jesus! You’re not kidding, are you?’
‘Nope.’
‘So, you’re not human then, you weren’t just saying that?’
‘Yes I am – now. But I didn’t use to be. It’s a long story.’
‘And we’ve got so much else to do,’ he said sarcastically. ‘I mean there’s still a hundred verses of ninety nine bottles of beer on the wall to get through.’
‘Listen you! I’m the queen bitch around here. If you’re going for the title, you’re going to have to do better than that.’
‘Ninety nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety nine …’
‘Okay, okay.’ She clapped her hands over her ears. ‘Christ, do you need special vocal cord surgery to sound that bad?’
She grinned slyly at him. ‘Denny can sing like an angel.’
Stiles grunted. He did not want to hear any more about this paragon, but, hear it he did. Tamar told him her story.
By the end, he was amazed, and, if possible, hated Denny even more than he had before. Also he realised something. ‘Wait a minute,’ he said. ‘I do know you. I mean in a way; you’re “The Demon”. You have to be, it all fits.’
‘The Demon?’
‘That’s what they call you, it has to be you. I thought it was just an urban legend – well you would, wouldn’t you? But you’re real.’
‘I’m an urban legend?’
‘It has to be you,’ he repeated. ‘They called you the Demon Avenger, and then it got shortened to The Demon. A shadowy superhero who saves people and then just vanishes. There couldn’t be two of you.’
‘It sounds like me,’ she agreed. ‘You know, the name is strangely appropriate. A Djinn’s powers are technically demonic, you know. That’s why they cause so much trouble.’
Stiles nodded thoughtfully. ‘So, why can’t we “teleport” was it, out of here? I mean I see why you didn’t before, but now that I know …’
‘Um, you know how you thought we weren’t really in Scotland?’
‘Yes,’ he narrowed his eyes.
‘Well, we are, but not exactly. Oh hell, I don’t know exactly what they did, but … look, this is Scotland, right?’
‘Okay, but …?’
‘Oh, Christ, I don’t know how to explain it.’
‘Try.’
‘But I don’t know what’s going on myself.’
‘But you can’t teleport?’
‘Technically I can, but it wouldn’t do any good.’
‘Because?’
‘Perhaps I should just show you.’
* * *
‘What are you playing at?’ said the tiny angelic Denny, otherwise known as Denny’s conscience. ‘How can you think of your stomach at a time like this?’
Denny looked at the bowl (his third) with sudden distaste. ‘What am I doing?’ he thought. ‘I have to get moving, what’s wrong with me?’ His appetite failed as he imagined Tamar in the clutches of the ashen faced man and himself arriving too late.
Before he could change his mind, he concentrated on Tamar and even said out loud. ‘Take me to her.’
The whirlwind picked him up and deposited him apparently in a black hole. No, wait, he was outside, it was cold, and there was snow crunching under his feet. He heard a wolf howl in the distance. As his eyes adjusted he found that he could see, just a little bit. He was sure that he was alone.
‘TAMAR,’ he called. ‘TAMAR ARE YOU HERE? TAMAR.’ Damn it, it had not worked. It looked as if he had just landed at random, and yet, she had been here; he could faintly smell her perfume. That was the thing about Tamar, even after three weeks stuck in a coal mine she would still look and smell good; she made sure of it. It was kind of windy, so she could not have been here too long ago. He looked down; there were no footprints, the snow was like icing on a cake, and it was not snowing. ‘That’s weird,’ he thought. He tried calling again; she was nearby, he thought, she had to be; he could almost hear her. He tried teleporting again and was set down just a few yards away. The perfume smell was stronger here, but there was no sign of anybody. He felt a rush of air, and the scent dissipated. ‘What the hell? Was she invisible?’ But in that case, why had she not answered him? Well, she was gone now.
* * *
‘Okay, take my hand.’
‘Where are we?’
‘My place – sort of.’
‘Then it worked?’ Stiles looked around. ‘Kind of a dump isn’t it? Sorry, that was rude. I think your Denny’s out,’ he added.
‘Hmm, he might be, and he might not be, we wouldn’t be able to see him if he were here.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I don’t know, I just feel it, you felt it too, on some level. You said we weren’t in Scotland, but what you meant was – something else,’ she finished lamely.
‘You mean like a parallel universe?’ asked Stiles, getting the idea as he tried to put it together.
‘Yes – no, not exactly, that’s different. That’s still the same world, in a way, but split off because of people’s different choices. It’s all theoretical anyway. And then there are magical universes, small pockets of virtual reality that co-exist with the real world. This is something else.’
‘But this is the real world.’
‘Yes it is,’ she agreed. ‘It’s more like … we’re not real anymore – trust me, I know that feeling.’
‘That’s ridiculous.’
‘Think about it. You said this place is a dump, can you imagine me living here, and leaving it like this?’
‘Well, no – but still…’
‘I know, I know.’
‘So, okay, all that walking, where exactly did you think you were going?’
‘I was trying to retrace my steps. When everything changed, I felt it, I thought if I could find that place again …’
Stiles shook his head. ‘I’m getting a headache.’
‘Anyway, we can call it a parallel universe for the sake of argument, and I suppose it is, in a way. The point is we’re still in it; we travelled within it; we have to go back, so we can find a way out.’
‘I’m freaking out here.’
‘I don’t blame you, and I’m used to this sort of thing.’
* * *
Denny did not know what to do, well would anyone? He went home.
As soon as he got there, he was aware of her presence again, that scent was unmistakable, she manifested it herself. Also, it made sense that she would come here after leaving the snowy field. But if she was here, why could he not see her? This was weird, creepy even, not to mention extremely frustrating. Damn woman!
What was she up to now? ‘Tamar,’ he said to the air. ‘This isn’t funny you know, I know you’re there, I’d know that stink anywhere. Come out – come out – wherever you are.’ He waited. Okay, this was not working.
She’smessing you around, said the devil on his shoulder. Hasn’t she always? She’s laughing at you. If she wants to play silly buggers, let her, you don’t have to play along, just ignore her.
Why would she do such a thing? returned his conscience. You know her better than that. She’s in trouble.
So what if she is? argued the other side of his mind. There’s nothing you can do about it, so why worry?
‘But I am worried,’ said Denny out loud. ‘I just don’t know what to do.’ He drew out the Athame. ‘What do I do?’ he cried in frustration. ‘How do I find her? What do I have to do? Where is she?’
Those who are quicker off the mark than Denny will not be surprised that as he said these words, the answer came to him. ‘B
ingo! Why didn’t I think of that before? All I had to do was ask. I am so stupid.’ For the first time, he wondered what was happening to him. It was as if he did not care. Normally, he thought, he would have asked the question a lot sooner. He shook his head. ‘I’m just tired,’ he thought. ‘So, here I go.’ He raised the Athame.
What Denny had realised, of course, was that Tamar was on another plane of existence, not a spiritual plane, but another physical plane. A veil had been dropped between the layers of the universe, separating it into two distinct planes that encompassed the entire world and the people who had been living in the areas where it had started from. This had happened several hundred years ago, in an age when people tended not to travel or have relatives in other parts of the world, so they probably never noticed a thing. How Tamar, and probably Stiles, had ended up there, was still a mystery, but one thing was certain, she would never be able to find her way out.
But if there’s a way in … ‘There’s a way out,’ he said to himself. And now he knew how to find it. He “cut” the air in front of him, in a mystic symbol, the meaning of which he did not know, but he could look it up later – probably. Still, it looked impressive, sort of – it shimmered in the air, like letters of fire. Cool! – What now? Then, suddenly the veil came down; he actually saw it drop, although he sensed that the two planes were very much intact. But now Tamar and a man, whom Denny assumed to be Stiles, were back on their own plane. Had he reversed the symbol, he would have ended up on the other plane with them. This knowledge came suddenly and unbidden into his mind, but there was no time to wonder why.
Tamar shivered. ‘Did you feel that?’ she said.
‘No,’ said the man. ‘What?’
‘Oh, it was probably nothing.’
‘So,’ said the man, who was probably Stiles. ‘We’re going back to Scotland then?’
‘Why would you do that?’ asked Denny, from behind them, ‘you just got here.’
Tamar spun, and Denny hastily concealed the Athame in his pocket.
‘Denny!’ She flung her arms around him. Then she drew back, frowning. ‘How? What? How did we get back?’
Denny assumed a blank expression. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I was in the other room and I heard you talking – although,’ he dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘I didn’t hear you come in – did you teleport?’
‘No, yes, that’s not what I meant,’ she glanced at Stiles. ‘Oh, it’s okay, he knows.’
Denny now tried to look as if he were more confused than ever, it was an expression that settled easily on his face from long practice. ‘So, if you teleported, and he knows about it, why are you asking how you got here? What’s the game?’
Denny’s acting skills had really come on. In the last few days he had gone from Keanu Reeves to Anthony Hopkins.
‘No game – I – I …’
‘You know what?’ Denny stopped her, why don’t you have a drink or something and calm down, you’re all shaky. And aren’t you going to introduce us?’ He indicated Stiles, who was standing behind her, looking awkward.
‘Oh, yes, Jack – this is Denny. Denny – this is Jack Stiles.’
‘No kidding,’ said Stiles, dourly.
‘I guessed as much,’ said Denny, smiling, he held out a hand. ‘Nice to meet you.’ They shook hands.
‘Is it hot in here?’ said Tamar, pulling off layers.
‘I’m afraid I haven’t been able to find out very much,’ said Denny. ‘I was too busy looking for you.’ He turned to Tamar. ‘Where have you been?’
‘You were looking for her here?’ said Stiles sceptically.
‘I just got back,’ said Denny easily.
If Stiles thought that Denny seemed suspiciously calm for a man whose girlfriend had been missing for a week, he did not say so.
‘It’s okay,’ said Tamar. ‘I – we found something out. I’d better tell you everything.’
Denny listened calmly. ‘Well,’ he said, at the end. ‘I guess that explains why I couldn’t contact you. It might also explain why you’d never seen a vampire until recently; I guess that’s where they’ve been living all this time.’
This was a fact, not a guess, but Denny did not explain this. ‘I mean, that’s probably where they all went around the time the legends faded away. Well, I mean …’
‘I know what you mean,’ Tamar said, impatiently. ‘The question is why?’
‘A more important question,’ said Stiles, ‘is how we got there?’
‘No,’ said Tamar. ‘It’s obvious how. The vampires took you there, and I just slipped in on their coat tails, as it were. The really interesting point is – how did we get back?’ They both looked at Denny.
‘Well, what are you looking at me for?’ he said defensively. ‘I don’t know do I?’
‘We know you don’t,’ said Tamar. ‘But you might be able to find out.’
‘Shouldn’t we be concentrating on how to summon Hecaté?’ Denny countered, adroitly changing the subject.
Stiles narrowed his eyes. ‘Another one,’ he thought. Mind you, he had a point.
‘Can you do it?’ he asked.
Denny shook his head. ‘I can’t do the summoning, I have no magic power.’ (This was a direct lie now, but Denny barely flinched) ‘But Tamar does; she’s the closest thing we have to an actual witch – no offence,’ he nodded to her. ‘My job is to find out what to do. I have books on this stuff, but I think I’ll start on the ’net.’
‘Shouldn’t we be trying to find out why this Ran-Kur wants me dead?’ asked Stiles, not unreasonably.
‘Well, if we can find a way to get rid of him, it won’t matter – will it?’ said Denny.
Tamar smiled in agreement. ‘Makes sense,’ she said.
‘Yeah,’ said Denny. ‘We ice this Ran-Kur, end of problem.’
‘But …’
‘There is one other thing,’ added Denny. ‘Just in case it doesn’t work, you two had better hunt us up a witch or three. You know, in case I can’t find a summoning ritual, or Tamar does it, and it doesn’t work.’
‘Okay,’ said Tamar, ‘good idea, have you got a list?’
Denny sat down at the computer. ‘Just give me a sec.’
‘List?’ asked Stiles.
‘Possible covens,’ said Tamar
‘Yeah, we lost the last one, after Tamar terrified them,’ laughed Denny.
‘I just hope I don’t have to go campaigning for women’s rights in dungarees and an unflattering haircut.’
‘Well, I’m not doing it,’ said Denny.
‘Why not, you already have a bad haircut.’
Denny glowered but held his peace. Why did he put up with her?
‘What are you two talking about?’ asked Stiles.
‘Witches,’ said Tamar. ‘They hide out, incognito as women’s groups. All right, I’ll make a start. Hey Denny are you still having that weird dream?’
‘No, it’s stopped.’
‘I wouldn’t say that,’ she said, pointing at the window, at the inky blackness. ‘I’d say, He’s here – whoever He is.’
Denny glanced out of the window. ‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ he said.
‘It’s probably this Ran-Kur.’
‘Probably.’
‘What dream?’ asked Stiles, he was beginning to feel like a quiz show host. And for the grand prize of a trip to Tahiti…
‘I’ll tell you later,’ said Tamar. (No one ever said that to Chris Tarrant.)
‘Stiles sighed; he’d probably never find out, not now that these two were distracting him in tandem. ‘It’s supposed to be two cops and one suspect,’ he thought. ‘And I want to know why I’m wanted dead in ghoul town, I hate loose ends.’
In the end, he decided to go with Tamar. For one thing, Denny made him uncomfortable, he had been prepared to dislike him, nay, even hate him. But this was more than mere jealousy. Denny made him nervous; he did not trust him. He told himself not to be silly, that he was biased, and it was not Denny’s fault that he had got
the girl, even though he was no Johnny Depp. Because of this, he was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt; after all, he had been suspicious of Tamar at first. Also, it had been Denny’s suggestion that he go, citing his own lack of powers. Stiles would be safer with her, he had said. This was indisputable, and it was unfair to suspect him of trying to get rid of them, even though Stiles was sure that he was.
As soon as they had gone, Denny switched off the computer and wandered over to the bookcase. Without even looking, he drew out a large book entitled “Summoning Spells & Incantations”. He flipped over the pages. ‘Summoning a Deity,’ he read. ‘Blah, blah, blah, insert name of deity, etc, etc.’ He closed the book and grinned. He felt only the slightest pang of guilt as he snapped his fingers and created a small safe in the air, put the book in and snapped his fingers again, the safe disappeared.
~ Chapter Fifteen ~
By the most remarkable co-incidence, possibly ever, they found a witch almost immediately. Almost! – Five WI meetings had turned up zilch, and Tamar was disgruntled and Stiles was wishing he had not come. The WI-ers had given him some very curious looks, of course he was used to this, and his first instinct, had been to whip out his badge, until Tamar told him not to.
It was getting dark; they were in Staines; the daylight blackout evidently had not reached this area yet. The sun appeared to be setting in the usual manner. They had decided to call it a day and were wandering along dispiritedly.
‘Why isn’t it ever easy?’ complained Tamar, looking for a private place to teleport from. She stopped suddenly and raised her head, almost as if she were sniffing the air.
‘What is it?’ Stiles asked.
‘Magic,’ she said, ‘there.’ She pointed to a house. ‘Witch magic.’
‘How do you know?’
She shrugged. ‘How do you know when it’s cold? I just feel it.’
‘So, what are we doing, are we going in?’
‘Um – no, we know where she is; let’s just leave it for now. We may not need her at all, and if we burst in on her now, she may not be here when we come back. Denny was right; witches tend to be afraid of me. Let’s just take a note of the address.’ She glanced at the sign and laughed. ‘Look at this – Mrs. C Pittencherry, Chiropractor. Good cover, there’s even a phone number.’
Reality Bites Page 8
