A Very British Witch Boxed Set

by Isobella Crowley

  “A-ha. That is what this meeting’s about and why you’ve been asked to come along.”

  “Okay, I get it. But what’s my Aunt Tabitha doing here, of all people?”

  All chatter in the room ceased as everyone turned to watch Tabitha cross the floor to stand beside her niece. “To help of course.”

  “How?”

  “Well, it’s a long story, but our families go back generations.”

  “I knew you were acquaintances but had no idea it went back generations.”

  “Well, we don’t go shouting it from the rooftops, that’s why. Experience has taught us to keep it quiet. Last thing we need is for word to get out that a witch is in cahoots with a sorcerer.”

  “Mmm. I see your point.”

  “We haven’t seen each other for such a long time, it was really good to catch up in a place where we don’t have to keep up the pretense. We’re all in it together here.”

  “Well, I suppose—”

  “You happy with that explanation?”

  Scarlett nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Excellent.” Tabitha crossed the floor to reunite herself with Tarquin, who grinned and patted her back as soon as she was close enough.

  Scarlett was left on her own, looking up at the ceiling, bewilderment written all over her face. Tabitha’s revelation was clarifying and of course, there was no reason why they couldn’t go back years. After mulling it over and over in her mind, she decided to welcome this and shifted her thoughts to Ronnie.

  Tarquin nodded to Tabitha, stepped into the center of the room, and slow-clapped his hands three times. Everyone in the room turned to give him their undivided attention.

  “Okay, thank you all for coming. The purpose of this meeting, as most of you know, is to try and come up with an idea to get into the military base. The place is guarded night and day, so it’s not going to be easy. I’d like to start with a short brainstorming session to see what we can come up with.”

  There then followed roughly ten minutes of suggestions, ranging from the ingenious to the downright ridiculous. To his credit though, Tarquin didn’t discourage anyone, although Scarlett could tell he was bemused by some of the outrageous plans that surfaced.

  Tarquin clapped his hands for a second time. “Okay, thanks for all your suggestions. I think, though, from the points made, that the way forward is obvious to us all. What we need is a spell to take care of the human element. If we can make it so that anyone breaking in can’t be seen, the military personnel will become discombobulated and we might just pull this off. So, Tabitha, if you’d like to step this way, please.”

  They went off into the corner to see what they could come up with. They each started chanting and making weird noises individually to begin with, but after a few minutes, they started working together.

  Once again assuming center stage, Tarquin clapped his hands to gain everyone’s attention. “Okay, everyone, that’s the human element taken care of. However, we still need a way of physically getting into the base, so if you could get your thinking caps on once again, people.”

  This time the ideas were decidedly more credible, so after only five minutes, Tarquin decided enough was enough and declared the second brainstorming session officially over.

  “Okay, so we’re all agreed that we need someone with superior hacking skills?”

  Everyone nodded.

  Tarquin decided to throw a cat amongst the pigeons. “Or, someone with a pass, and another spell to mess with the cameras.”

  A silence followed by a murmur that grew louder as it spread around the room.

  “Does anyone know anyone with access to a pass?”

  Scarlett stepped forward and cleared her throat. “I… uh,” she squeaked. “I might be able to get hold of Tim’s pass.”

  Tarquin nodded. “So, we need to get Tim on board to provide us with access.” He looked directly at Scarlett. “Maybe you could get him to take you in as a guest? Do they have guest passes?”

  “Not sure. Tell you what, I’ll call him and see. Use all my powers of persuasion.”

  Cliff coughed to get everyone’s attention. “Excuse me everyone, but I have an announcement to make. I have, finally, managed to find a new orderly, so, hopefully, my supply of fresh blood, or lack of it, will soon be a thing of the past. However, I’m meant to be meeting him tonight. Got to drive all the way to bloody Coventry, worst luck, so I’ll be shooting off soon, I’m afraid.”

  Karl stepped forward. “Oh, you go, Cliff, go on. Get your blood sorted out. We can manage without you, for now.”

  Waiting for Cliff to leave the scene, Karl addressed the group. “Bloody Coventry indeed. He doesn’t seem to realize that if we had some orderly on our own patch, out in the parking lot, carrying stacks of blood for no good reason, that we’d all be exposed. Again. Better off in someone else’s backyard than our own, that’s what I say.”

  “Well said, Karl,” said Tarquin. “I’m sure you speak for everyone. Err, Tabitha. Think we’ve got some work to do, don’t you?”

  Tabitha nodded. “Now?”

  “No time like the present.”

  “Where should we go?”

  “Follow me.”

  With one foot in the doorway, Tarquin looked over his shoulder. “Okay, everyone. Tabitha and I are going to slip away to work on the spells. It’s going to take a lot of preparation, believe me, but first, we need some supplies. See you soon.”

  Scarlett nodded and waved to Tabitha and Tarquin. Karl followed them out to go and check on the store and in no time at all, Scarlett was alone.

  Sitting on a bench that now stood unoccupied, Scarlett pulled out her phone and called Tim.

  No reply, yet again. She left it another five minutes before trying again and again, until eventually, he answered.

  “Tim? Where have you been? I need to speak with you urgently.”

  “Are you okay? Sorry, I got called into a top secret meeting and had the ringer off.”

  “With a werewolf?”

  Tim gave a strained laugh. “Oh, there you go again, letting your imagination run riot.”

  “Don’t laugh at me.”

  “No, sorry—I wasn’t, not at you. Look, why don’t we meet up for a chat? Where are you?”

  “Tarquin’s bookstore.” If, after measuring his reactions, she decided to tell him the truth, that was the best place to break it to him, and deal with his response.

  “I’ll be right over. Don’t move a muscle.”

  +++

  Secure Facility, RAF Bicester, Launton

  “Cootchie-cootchie-coo,” Wing Commander Simon Moseley pushed the cattle prod through the feeding window and took aim at the bedraggled, smoldering werewolf at the back of the cage.

  Ronnie slammed his back to the wall, held his breath, clenched every muscle in his body and glared through the glass at Moseley, whose eyes were gleaming with delight.

  The shockwaves sent a jolt right through him, making him wince, sending his head crashing against the wall.

  Slumped forward, he swallowed the pain and reached down to his stomach. Hissing in air through clenched teeth, his hand inched away. His stomach resembled a forest fire a day or two after the event, with black burnt out trees intermingling with fire and singed trunks.

  Through the fur, he looked at the blisters and sores that covered the area, some starting to heal and some fresh. He was still examining the damage when the cattle prod snaked through and bit him again.

  “Oh, you’re no fun,” Moseley called in through the glass. “I shall have to find another specimen to entertain myself with—or find a way of making you more entertaining. You don’t squirm anywhere near enough for my liking.” He glanced at the time. “Oh well, time to head home. It all starts again tomorrow.”

  Moseley put on his jacket and laughed all the way to the door.

  Waiting for the tyrant’s footsteps to recede, Ronnie breathed a huge sigh of relief and leaned back against the wall, doing his very best to make himself comfo
rtable, and thankful that his chains had finally been removed when they knocked him out for the testing. He closed his eyes, taking advantage of the silence, while it lasted.

  “Ronnie.”

  Ronnie swung around to the cage on his right and commenced in a silent conversation. “What? Oh, you again, Raven.”

  “Yes, me again.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Nothing. It’s more like what I can do for you. Listen, I’ve been here a long time now, so I know that Moseley’s bark can often be worse than his bite. He’s not nearly as bad as he makes out, although people do tend to scream a lot when he’s around.”

  Ronnie grimaced. “You’re not being much help.”

  “No, sorry. You’ve just got to stick in there, keep your chin up, don’t let them grind you down. Just keep believing that your friends will be along soon to rescue you and you’ll be okay.”

  “Thanks, Raven, that is of help.”

  “Not at all, not at all. Want some more advice?”

  “Go on then.”

  “Don’t eat the food.”

  “Why not? I’m starving.”

  “Yes, I know, but even so, don’t eat it. It’s laced with drugs.” She glanced through the glass at the occupants of the cages opposite. “You see them? They ate the food, that’s why they’re so … docile.”

  Ronnie looked back over his shoulder, noticing for the first time the glazed look in their eyes and the way they crawled around their cages as if in a trance. But everyone had to eat. “What about you, don’t you eat it?”

  “Yes, but I outsmarted them. I pretended to be more docile than I was, too docile for their liking.”

  “So, what did they do?”

  “They reduced the dosage, and now I think they’ve stopped putting it in altogether. But you—they’re scared of you, that’s why they knocked you out for the testing. They’ll want you constantly drugged up to the nines.”

  Raven was right. He’d better stop being so lively, and pretend to be submissive to avoid the lacing, and hopefully further shots.

  “Great. That’s all I need. So, what, should I just stay here and wait to starve to death? Is there no way out?”

  “There is, but you have to act fast. While you’re up here on this floor, there’s still a chance of escape. Security’s not so tight, because they’re constantly in and out of your cage. Downstairs is a different matter though. The others, downstairs, are in a more secure part of the building. Double locks, day and night patrols, the works. Once you go down there, there’s no escaping.”

  Ronnie glanced along the aisle at the staircase that Moseley had descended moments earlier. He did seem to recall more guards being down there when they brought him in. “Will they move me downstairs then?”

  “Eventually, yes.”

  “When will that be? How long have I got?”

  “Well, you’re here until Moseley carries out his initial assessment.”

  “What, and once that’s over, I’ll be moved downstairs, where there’s no escape?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Well, I’ll just have to work out a plan that’s gonna get me out of here before the assessment comes to an end.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Thanks Raven, you’ve been a great help.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “Just one thing though, one more quick question if I may?”

  “Sure, fire away.”

  “You seem to know a hell of a lot about what goes on around here. How did you pick up all this information?”

  “I pay attention to what’s going on.”

  “That’s it, you pay attention? Come on, there must be more to it than that. Or maybe there’s something you’re not telling me?”

  “No, I just pay attention, that’s all there is to it. I listen to them talking and memorize it. I suggest that you do the same.”

  “I will.”

  “Anything else I can do for you?”

  “Nah. That’s it for today.” Ronnie grinned for the first in a while.

  “Well, in that case, I shall leave you to enjoy the facilities.” She stretched and yawned. “Good night, dear sir.”

  “Good night, Raven. Nice talking to you.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine, I assure you.”

  Ronnie retreated to the back of the cage and lay down, head resting against the wall, back flat against the floor. The skin on his stomach still singed, patches of blood clinging to the fur, making it stand up on end like hair gel.

  Chapter Twelve

  Malaprop’s Bookstore, Bicester, England

  As much as Scarlett loved books, she hated being alone. To cap it all off, her anxiety was beginning to make her feel nauseated. She glanced at the time. “Come on, Tim. Where are you?”

  No sooner had she sat down and returned her line of vision to the wooden floorboards around her feet, then the shop door opened and a draft blew all the way downstairs. Her ears pricked up.

  “Hello?” Tim shouted from the bottom of the staircase. “Scarlett?”

  “I’m here!” She had to shout as loud as possible so that her voice would carry up the staircase and above the noise of the traffic outside.

  A foot padded against the bottom step. “Scarlett?”

  “I’m down—” She coughed up a chewed sliver of nail that was scratching her throat and walked to the bottom of the stairs to greet him.

  Tim came down the stairs and grave Scarlett with a quick kiss before sitting down on the bench beside her, just under the grey window, which was letting in less light by the second.

  “You okay Scarlett?”

  “Oh, so-so. Tim?”

  “What’s up?”

  “Will you tell me again about why you had to shoot off the other morning all of the sudden after you hid my shoe?”

  “But I’ve explained that already. Don’t know why I should have to keep on explaining myself—”

  “Well tell me again, and this time don’t spare me any details.”

  Tim sighed. “Well, okay then…” He went through the story from start to finish.

  Scarlett could tell from the look on his face that he was lying to her, he was definitely hiding the supernatural side of his investigation. She was going to have to handle this very gently if she wanted to get his help voluntarily, instead of having to resort to Tarquin compelling him with a spell. “Thank you.” She grinned to herself. “So, you’re still denying the fact that it was a werewolf attack?” She faked a laugh and held her breath.

  “Scarlett, I—” He patted her leg. “I can assure you that werewolves do not exist. You’re completely safe tucked up in your bed.”

  “Don’t patronize me.” She gave him a steely look.

  Tim lowered his eyes and took a deep breath, inflating his lungs fully. “Okay.”

  “Thank you.”

  “A werewolf is a possibility that we’re currently taking seriously. But, Scarlett, you—”

  “I know. I won't tell anyone.” She looked away to hide her guilty expression.

  “You’re perfectly safe. They only shift once in a while, when they go out hunting, when—”

  “When it’s a full moon,” Scarlett said, laughing at the fact that they’d finished off the sentence together.

  Tim grinned. “Not only that, but—you know about werewolves too?”

  Scarlett nodded.

  “I had no idea. I thought it was all down to some book you’d been reading. Sherlock Holmes, Miss Marple, Hercule Poirot, something along those lines. What exactly do you know?”

  Scarlett shook her head. “You first.”

  “Well, I want to, but—” He glanced at the floor, took another deep breath and readied his head on top of a proverbial pile of sand. “Okay, here goes. I work as part of a military group that studies weres; hostiles, as we like to call them.”

  Scarlett grinned. “I knew it.” A passing car beeped its horn and, still smiling, Scarlett turned to get a look at the car through
the basement window, which looked to be the same model as Cliff’s. This got her thinking. If Tim knew about werewolves, then maybe he knew about vampires too. She opened her mouth to ask, but, noticing his worried expression, decided not to push her luck.

  “What is it?” Tim said, referring to the car outside.

  “Oh, nothing. Thought it might be someone I know, but it’s not. So anyway, the were you captured last night—he’s our friend, Ronnie. We want him back.”

  Tim just stared at her for a second, processing the bomb she’d dropped. How long had she known about Ronnie? About him? He had to know more, and dissuade her from doing anything drastic, at the same time. He donned a sympathetic smile. “Scarlett, I understand, I really do. We all get a little stressed out when one of our friends go missing. But, it’s just not possible.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s a danger for a start. And besides, he’s part of the program now. Eyebrows would be raised.”

  “That’s it? You don’t want to raise any eyebrows? Correct me if I’m wrong, but he hasn’t killed anyone has he? What exactly is he supposed to have done?”

  “He killed a cow, called Mauve, the one that the media are having an absolute field day with. Plus, he’s torn to pieces and eaten a whole bunch of other cattle. It happens every month, whenever he leaves town and heads over to Wiltshire. The farmers are up in arms about it and quite rightly so. It’s their livelihoods we’re talking about.”

  “So, you put that together then, did you?”

  “Well, once we’d established some facts, along with one or two pieces of evidence, it wasn’t that hard to put two and two together.”

  The image of Ronnie lying naked, cold and tortured to breaking point in a cage, flashed to mind. They’d had some good moments together and deep down, she’d always kind of liked him. She certainly wouldn’t want him to come to any harm.

  Her eyes started to well. “Tim—I, I don’t know what to tell you.” She sniffed and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “This is all new to me and… ”

  Tim smiled and shook his head. “And what?”

  “I just don’t want to lose my friend, a friend that I hold dear, to some—to some weird experimental program. It’s not right and it just isn’t fair.”