Undying Magic Page 13

  “You’re my family,” Briar said, tearing up slightly. “I love you all, and I’m terrified that something will happen to you. This thing has got me genuinely scared. It’s like nothing we’ve ever faced before.”

  Alex looked at all of them, one by one. “We’re not all going to die, you depressing bunch of gits! We’re facing a vampire here. We’re bigger, badder, and more powerful. And we’re going to kick its scrawny, undead ass. We gave it a serious setback last night. Don’t underestimate what we did.”

  Avery looked at him, wishing he were right. “But, Rasmus lost his first wife to one. They were young and powerful, just like us. One of us could die, too!”

  “No, we won’t. I won’t allow it.” He looked stubborn and annoyed and Avery loved him all the more for it. “Evelyn and Felicity would have known exactly what was going on. That first attack in 1979 coincided with Evelyn’s death. What if Felicity was the one to stop it? You said Rasmus and the others never found the original vamp. Maybe her death has released whatever hold she had on it?” He started to get excited. “They both lived there for years, and although their spirits may not be roaming the house, they must be there somewhere. I want to speak to one of them. Whatever secrets that house holds, whatever they know, I aim to find out.”

  “On Saturday?” Reuben asked.

  “Yes. I’ll check with Ben first, see which room will give me the best chance, and that will be the room I’ll try. In the meantime, I’ll have a think about the best way to connect.”

  14

  A persistent scratching sound woke Avery from a restless sleep. For a few moments she lay quietly, trying to discern what the noise was, and trying to work out the other noise that was competing with the scratching. She realised she could hear her cats growling, their throaty rumbles coming from deep within their chests.

  Avery sat up, trying not to disturb Alex, and in the pale light that filtered through her blinds, she saw Medea and Circe sitting up at the end of the bed, staring at the window on the far side of the room. She followed their gaze, mystified. What were they fixated on? Why were they growling?

  She edged forward to reach the cats, stroking them to try and reassure them, but their fur bristled, and they ignored her, transfixed.

  The steady scratch, scratch, scratch perplexed her. There were no trees by the window, nothing natural to scratch in such a persistent manner. She slipped out of bed, heading to the noise, and the cats increased their deep, throaty rumble as if in warning. As she reached towards the window, a shudder ran through her. Something was on the other side of the window, something strange. Something that shouldn’t be there.

  As if she couldn’t control her movements, she reached forward and raised the blinds.

  A face was pressed against the glass, and fingernails tapped and scraped downwards. Avery faltered and stepped back, almost stumbling, a cry caught in her throat. The figure on the other side of the window was clearly Bethany Mason. Her long hair floated around her head in a halo, her face was pale, and her dark eyes were fixed upon Avery with a fierce intensity.

  This shouldn’t be happening. Avery was three floors up, and there was no way to her window other than climbing up a straight wall or by flying. And yet Bethany was there, her fingernails scraping the glass. Avery made the mistake of looking into the dark abyss of her eyes, and she was lost.

  She needed to open the window. Bethany was cold. She must come in.

  Avery reached forward towards the latch, ready to release it and let her inside. Alex slept next to her, unmoving, his sleep almost unnaturally deep.

  With an unearthly howl, Circe leapt towards her, launching on to her arm and sinking her claws deep into her skin, and at the same time, the door to the bedroom flew open, banging against the wall.

  Pain cleared Avery’s head. She backed away from the catch and clutched her scratched arm, retreating as the reality of the situation dawned. She turned to the door of her bedroom where Helena stood, a spectral wind whirling about her. Her eyes blazed with fury, but she couldn’t come in; Avery had cast a spell that banned her from the room. But it wasn’t Avery that she was glaring at—it was Bethany.

  Avery stepped back again, terror rising. Bethany locked eyes with Helena and for a few seconds neither of them moved, and neither did Avery, frozen with fear. And then Medea howled, spurring Avery into action. She uttered a spell that banished Bethany from the window, causing her to skitter away down the wall like a lizard. Avery ran to the window, watching her leave, her stomach twisting with horror at Bethany’s unnatural movements, just like the night before in the morgue. She glanced up once, giving Avery a malicious look that suggested she would be back.

  Avery shuddered and turned back to Helena, who watched with her equally dark and hollowed-out gaze. “Thank you.”

  Helena nodded, her expression softening, and then she vanished.

  Medea had returned to the end of the bed, next to Circe, and both watched the window more placidly, their tails swishing across the quilt. Alex was still in a deep and soundless sleep. How could he have slept through that? She considered waking him, but in the end, Avery decided that it was pointless. There was nothing he could do now. At least one of them would get some decent rest.

  ***

  When Alex finally woke the next morning, he was groggy and heavy-headed. “I feel like I have a hangover, and after only a couple of beers, that really seems unlikely.”

  Avery rolled over to face him, watching as he squinted in the dim light of the room. “I think your groggy head is because you had some weird, vampire mojo on you last night.”

  “What?” he turned to her, frowning. “Are you kidding me?”

  “No. I had a visitor, and Helena and the cats saved me.” She told him what happened, and Alex’s expression changed from confusion, to worry, to complete panic.

  “But I didn’t hear a thing!” He propped himself up on an elbow and stared at her. “Nothing. I was in a really deep sleep.”

  “Yep, vampire mojo.” She was making light of it, but she wasn’t fooling anyone.

  Alex pulled her towards him, his arm around her waist. “Are you sure you’re all right? You should have woken me.”

  She reached up and stroked his cheek, feeling his stubble beneath her fingers. “There was no point.”

  “Yes, there was. That’s what I’m here for, to look after you.”

  “I’m a lucky girl.”

  “Yes, you are,” he said, grinning. And then his smile faded. “But what if Bethany tried the same on Briar or the others? They haven’t got a helpful ghost or cats to save them.” He sat up and reached for his phone.

  Guilt flooded through Avery. “Sorry, I didn’t even think of that. The whole thing had me so freaked out.” She sat up, too, watching him call, reassured only when they all answered and confirmed they were okay.

  “I need to put those bundles of protection around my windows,” she said, getting out of bed. “I didn’t consider that vampires could scale walls like Spiderman.”

  “Dracula did,” Alex pointed out as he pulled his clothes on. “You must have read it. Poor old Jonathan Harker watched him crawling the walls in the castle.”

  Avery headed into the bathroom for a shower. “Great. Transylvania has come to White Haven.”

  ***

  Avery was not looking forward to updating Sally and Dan on the latest events, but she had to. Dan had entered the shop that morning reeking of garlic, and wearing another Christmas t-shirt that was painfully unfunny. Sally had arrived with mince pies.

  Sally’s hand flew to her neck as Avery told her of her encounter the night before. “She was here!”

  “I’m afraid so. I don’t want to panic either of you, but you need to know to take this seriously. With luck she will only be targeting us, but who knows where the main vampire is, and who he is—rather, was.” Avery shook her head perplexed. “I never know whether to call them an ‘it’ or a he or she. They’re so inhuman they seem to have lost their gender. Anyway
, you need to be careful.”

  “And that’s why I’m already taking steps to protect myself,” Dan said, sipping his coffee.

  “With garlic, yes, I can tell.” Avery wrinkled her nose, keeping her distance. “Did you put the protection bundles up?”

  Dan mock-saluted. “Yes ma’am.” He looked around the bookstore and dropped his voice. “I even made a stake last night. Just in case. Not that I want you to involve me in any other way.”

  “Wow! Good to know you’re prepared. Which reminds me, I need to prepare some stakes, too. I have the wood. I’ll put in a few hours here and then head outside, if that’s okay with you?”

  “No problem,” Sally said. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s your number one priority.”

  Later that morning, Avery headed out to the garden with the harvested wood from Old Haven and a sharp knife, and using a combination of magic and the sharp edge, fashioned several stakes. As she worked, she cast a spell into them, too, something to enhance the accuracy of the user when it came to finding the heart. As she’d found out only too well, the stake was hard to use, and to combine strength with accuracy was difficult. She’d only managed it the other night with the aid of her magic.

  She looked around the garden in the bleak winter sunshine and again found it hard to believe that only the night before Bethany had scaled the wall of the building. She looked up to her attic window and shook her head. Unbelievable.

  And then she thought of something else. They needed holy water.

  ***

  The Church of All Souls was decorated with pine branches, holly, ivy, poinsettia, and candles. Not only did it look pretty, but the pine scented the air and Avery inhaled deeply, enjoying the refreshing smell.

  She hadn’t bothered going to the vicarage as the church doors were wide open, inviting parishioners in, and quite a few people were sitting quietly in the church, praying or enjoying the colours of the light through the stained glass windows, and the Christmas cheer.

  Avery passed them all, heading to the sacristy where James, the vicar, wrote his sermons, hoping he would be there. A new verger had started since Harry’s death in the summer, and Avery passed her doing some Christmas preparation by the altar.

  The last time she had seen James was at Samhain, when he had taken the press to Old Haven to watch him take down the witch-signs that had been hanging in the trees. The magic they contained had blasted him off the ladder, and he’d broken his arm and suffered a concussion. The cameraman had also been injured, as had the reporter. Avery and Alex had visited James at home and shown him the true nature of their magic. It was an attempt to warn him of the dangers of other witches in the hope that he’d be more careful, but she knew they had scared him, and if anything, the knowledge had made him unsure of Avery. She hadn’t seen him since.

  The door to the sacristy was open, and James was at the desk under the window, writing. He turned at the sound of her footsteps, but when he saw who it was, an undisguised apprehension filled his eyes. He stood and came to meet her at the door. “Avery. It’s been a while. What can I do for you?”

  She pondered how to broach this request, and knew he would leap to assumptions, but there was no way to ask this any differently. “It’s a strange request, but important. I need some holy water.”

  He flinched. “Holy water? I presume it’s not for a christening?”

  Was that an attempt at a joke? Doubtful. “No, not a christening.”

  “You’re not converting to the faith?” His tone was light, but scathing.

  “No.”

  He watched her for a few moments, silent, and she could tell he had a million questions he was trying hard to push to the back of his mind. “Should I know why?”

  “Probably not, but I’ll tell you if you want.”

  His eyes dropped to the floor, and when he lifted his face again, his lips were pursed. “I think that if I’m to supply you with my services, then I should know what they are being used for.”

  “Then I should come into your office and close the door.”

  His eyes flickered with fear for the briefest of seconds before he backed away, allowing Avery inside. He retreated to his desk, and she shut the door behind her and leaned against it, giving him lots of space.

  “Are you sure you want to know?” she insisted.

  He folded his arms across his chest, resolute. “Yes. If I’m to protect my flock, I need to know from what. And there’s only one thing I know of that can be defeated with holy water.”

  Here goes. “There’s a vampire in Cornwall—well, two now, actually—and potentially there will be more.”

  His hands flew to his neck, in that unconscious gesture she’d seen a few times now. “Here? In White Haven?”

  “Close enough,” she said, “and one paid me a visit last night.”

  “A visit?”

  “At my window, on the third floor. Fortunately, I was able to send it away.”

  He paled. “Vampires! And what do you plan to do about them?”

  “Kill them, of course. Holy water will be one of our weapons in the fight.”

  He straightened his shoulders and nodded. “Yes, of course. The church will be a safe haven should any need to come here. It is open to all, regardless of faith.”

  She smiled, relieved by his support. “Thank you, James, I appreciate it. How does this work?”

  “You bring me a large container of water, and I will bless it. Then you can use it as you see fit.”

  “Thanks. I can get one now, if that’s okay?”

  He nodded. “Yes, that’s fine.” He sat in the chair and despite the chill in the stone room that was inadequately heated, a light sweat broke out on his forehead, and he wiped it with the back of his hand. “I never expected to hear that word here, especially in the quiet, small towns of Cornwall. Vampires are more associated with big cities.”

  Avery’s mouth dropped open. “Big cities? Has this happened before in somewhere you know?”

  “Reports of suspicious deaths and disappearances are common in towns. Sometimes people choose to disappear into the underbelly of places, some reappear after a while, changed, older, worn out by poverty and crime. Others have no choice, and they are taken by drink, drugs, traffickers—you know.” He looked at her, his eyes dark. “But there are those that return in unexpected ways. My colleagues in other parishes report such things, and well,” he hesitated, summoning his strength. “They sound suspiciously like vampires. They love the underbelly of cities. The crowded streets, the anonymity. It’s hard to track who is where, or what has happened to them.”

  “Wow. You’re actually admitting they exist? I did not expect to hear you say that.” She sank into the only other chair in the room, feeling her legs go weak beneath her.

  He smiled, breaking the tension in the room. “So, finally I have surprised you.”

  She laughed, grateful to have him actually talking to her like she wasn’t a monster. “Yes, you have. Although, I am pretty disturbed to hear about vampires elsewhere, like it’s a normal thing.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say normal.”

  “You must have tips about how we can get rid of them.”

  “No more than you already know, I’m sure. Holy water, a stake through the heart, beheading, burning. The church and vampires have a long history. They cannot cross consecrated ground.”

  “But why?” she asked, leaning forward. “I don’t understand.”

  He shrugged. “They are the undead, and as such reject the rules that govern everyone else. Call it God’s will, or your elemental magic—the magic of the wind, the rain, the sun. All of it is natural. The undead are not. Maybe that’s why holy water and consecrated ground burns them. I’m sorry, it’s only conjecture. I believe the real reasons will lie in the mists of time, because they have been around for that long. As have witches, spirits, and other things that exist which are considered abnormal.”

  “Witchcraft is not abnormal,” Avery corrected him. “It’s jus
t unconventional. And some of us happen to be more skilled than most.” She frowned. “If you were aware of the existence of vampires, why was the existence of witches such a shock to you?”

  “I have known that vampires exist for a long time. They are associated with the church, in an unnatural way, but to acknowledge their existence as something other than abstract is something else. It’s the same with witches. Of course I know about them—Wiccans, that is. But your type of magic, the covens you talk about, seem darker to me, more frightening,” he explained. “Even though I know that was not your intent.”

  “But lots of people call themselves witches now. It’s accepted.”

  “But they’re not witches like you are, are they?” he asked gently. He considered her for a moment. “I confess I was wary of you for some time, Avery, especially after Samhain and the strange events there. And of course when you revealed your skills. I’ve been avoiding you.”

  “And I, you. But I was trying to protect you from the witch at Old Haven. I needed you to know how dangerous magic can be.”

  “When wielded by someone with dark intent.” He nodded. “I understand. But, seeing you again today, I know that’s not you. And I know you protect others like you, which is sensible. I can live with that.”

  Relief flooded through Avery. She hadn’t realised how important it was to hear that from James. He was a good man, and while they had their differences, both had good intentions. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “Which means,” he said, rising to his feet, “that I will help you in any way I can to get rid of the vampires. If you need me to bless a swimming pool, I will.”

  “Not necessary yet,” she said, grinning. “I’ll be back with a few litres for now.”

  15

  Avery lined up several large bottles of holy water in the back room of the shop, and then returned to work to spend the last few hours of the day chatting to Dan and Sally. Dan had changed the music from Michael Bublé’s Christmas album to pop Christmas specials, and the 1970s band Slade rang out around the shop.