Chapter 1
My name is Jenny Sinclair. It has been a wonderful twelve months. No drama. No
danger. I like life like that, and I’m happy for it to continue that way. A pity then, that
fate had other ideas.
***
I walked into the bookshop with my trusty police dog, who is also my familiar, at my
side. This was yet another strange assignment in my police career. It seemed being
a supernatural in the police led to all sorts of random jobs – anything to do with
witches, goblins, shifters or vampires in my local area, and I was brought in.
This was a job about which I had mixed feelings. A famous author was
coming to my town of Wellsely. It was just your average large town in England. The
thing that set it apart from everything else was the fact that it was filled with a mix of
vampires, humans, and witches who lived side-by-side. The town’s councillors liked
to portray it as three different communities living in harmony, when the reality was
that we lived alongside each other, but lived very separate lives. Sometimes there
were clashes, and when that happened, it caused ripples through the whole town.
I’d been involved in some of those incidents, but thankfully for the last twelve
months there hadn’t been a murder, a kidnapping, or any use of dark magic. It had
been wonderful.
This new event had caused a little stir of anticipation and disquiet in the town,
but I was sure it was going to be fine. As I’d said, a famous author was visiting. He
was quite controversial, writing books to discredit witches and vampires. I couldn’t
decide whether he was being brave or completely stupid by deciding to hold an
author event with those same supernaturals, whom he often accused of being an
aberration of nature.
I had read some of his writings, and to be honest, as a witch, I found some of
his proposals a bit extreme, almost ethnic cleansing, but most of it was just vitriol. A
pity he was published, because it was hard enough being a member of a group that
was treated with suspicion by people who just didn’t understand our world, but to
have a publisher who was willing to actually produce those sorts of books in this day
and age was disappointing. Anyway, in order to show that he was a good guy at
heart, someone had come up with this idea of his visiting as part of his book tour. It
hadn’t gone down well with the supernatural communities of Wellsely.
My friend, fellow police officer, and now brother-in-law and father of my
beautiful baby niece was already in the backroom of the shop — a storage facility
that now housed rows of chairs, a podium, and lots of boxes of books along the
walls.
“Paddy! What brings you here?” I asked. Paddy was always on some sort of
undercover work, which I knew very little about and didn’t want to. If something
causes you to constantly wear body armour, it’s probably best that your wider family
doesn’t know too many details. Once upon a time, I’d been very curious about his
work, but now, as a relative, it was best that I remained happy in my ignorant bubble.
“Same as you. Making sure the esteemed author receives nothing but the
finest welcome amongst the wicked witches in this area.” Paddy grinned at me.
“We are civilised beings, unlike what he likes to suggest in his writing,” I said.
“I’m surprised he’s hit your radar. Are the powers that be very worried about his
safety?”
“Well, you witches can be a little scary, especially the Sinclair ones.”
“The same family you married into.”
“I chose the gentlest one of you.”
“I can’t argue with that.” My sister was lovely, kind, and quiet, definitely unlike
the other women in my family. “I’ve been asked to allow Fitz to do a sweep of the
building. I do think it’s an overreaction.”
“Probably, but after what happened with the Lodge, there’s nothing being left
to chance. It’s going to be the same when he does the book club with the vampires.”
Paddy was referring to a group of Lodge members who had started to try to
get rid of supernaturals. It had probably been mainly talk until an old boss of mine
had found out he’d married a witch. He murdered her. It had encouraged them to
become more extreme. It was only last year when I’d put myself in danger for some
of those Lodge members that its membership and motivation had started to change.
It was nothing but a harmless social group now, but it was clear that its effects were
still being felt, making people more wary of potential trouble than they would have
been normally.
“Fitz, do your stuff,” I instructed my black and white English Springer Spaniel,
who was both my familiar and police dog. Witches didn’t normally have dogs as
familiars, but when mine had been chosen for me it had been decided that I needed
a familiar to be with me most of the time. They don’t allow cats in the police as yet,
so I was given a dog; the fact that he was my familiar was unknown to me at the
start. Obviously, Fitz considered himself far superior to a cat, and I have to say, I
couldn’t argue against him.
“On it,” he responded telepathically to me, his nose immediately to the floor as
I followed his progress as he checked every surface, nook, and cranny.
“It’s a pleasure going back to basics. It’s been a long time since I was a real
police officer,” I said, as I moved with Fitz. I had started in the police with the
intention of working in the dog unit, but after the events with the Lodge, I had been
moved to help solve the murder and then posted once more onto working with
schools to educate non-magics about all supernaturals, but especially witches and
vampires.
“Are you getting tired of driving a desk?” Paddy teased.
“Going into every school in the area is hardly driving a desk. Some of those
children are scary, but I always got a buzz out of a search, so it is nice doing it again,
even if it’s only a little one,” I answered honestly. Oliver, my boyfriend and police
boss and myself were going into local non-magical schools to speak about
supernatural beings. There were far more than witches and vampires, and we did
talk about shapeshifters, goblins, faeries, and warlocks as well. Most people would
come across witches and vampires; there were fewer shifters around, and the other
groups tended to keep to themselves, not being the kind to mix well in any society
whether magic or not, so we could give basic information to the children. The hope
was it would break down barriers.
“Well, at least for today, you can play with the big boys,” Paddy responded. “I
hear you are on the exclusive invite list to tonight’s event.”
I knew I pulled a face at his words. Unfortunately for me, my emotions were
always too visible. “Can’t wait.”
“You can be our woman on the inside,” Paddy said.
“You seriously think there could be some danger to him from a group of
witches?” I ignored the raised eyebrow my words caused and carried on, following
Fitz into the shop part of the building, not waiting for Paddy to respond to my
question.
“All clear,” Fitz said, after we had searched the upstairs, and we both returned
to Paddy.
“All done, and now your man can visit, knowing he is perfectly safe,” I said.
“Although I find it highly amusing that I have to put a protection spell on this building
so witchcraft can’t be used while he’s here. I thought he didn’t believe that spells
should be condoned?”
“I think he’s just being cautious.”
“Hypocritical, more like,” I said, as I cast a spell. It was ridiculous, but I had to
keep the peace and so obeyed my higher-ranking officers even though magic spells
weren’t used normally as part of police work. In fact, it was frowned upon even
though it would have made our jobs a lot easier. I watched as the tiny balls of magic
darted around the building and settled into place; a silvery spider’s web joined all the
balls together before disappearing out of sight. It would be enough to stave off most
magical attacks. “All done.”
“Good stuff. There’ll be someone guarding the building until you all arrive, and
then there’ll be an unobtrusive presence outside,” Paddy said.
“Are we going to be in any risk, attending tonight? I don’t want any of my
fellow witches being in danger just because of some author’s over-inflated ego in
condescending to come into the enemy’s camp.”
“You’ll all be perfectly safe. Everything will go like clockwork,” Paddy
promised.
I huffed but didn’t say anything. It had caused enough arguments to agree to
the event being held in the first place; there had even been a petition when the
bookshop had put up the first poster advertising the event. There were a lot of
witches who were really not happy about a man like Gerald King coming to this part
of town.
Travelling home, I got changed out of my uniform and put on some plain black
trousers and a red blouse. I didn’t want to be too casual; I was there representing my
community, and I took that seriously. I had been recently sworn in as chief elder, the
previous one, Brian, deciding after he had been kidnapped and tortured that he
would take early retirement when he thought I was ready for the role.
Over a full year of hard work had occurred before he had persuaded me that I
was ready to take on the mantle of such an esteemed position. He had promised to
be in constant contact for the first twelve months of my reign in case I needed
anything. As he was currently on a two-month sabbatical to the Galapagos Islands, I
was now convinced that I’d been had with regards to a gentle handover — annoying
behavior from my grandmother’s boyfriend. They were both over a hundred years old
and in love. Grandma regularly took enjoyment in telling me there were no rules to
suggest sex had to stop at a certain age. On so many levels that was an ‘eww’
moment between grandmother and granddaughter, something she knew full well and
took great pleasure in tormenting me with.
So I was now in at the deep end, and this was my first test so to speak. How
to make a controversial visit into a nice, peaceful event? It would be easy, I suppose.
It’s ok. The words sounded completely hollow in my own ears; I didn’t expect
anyone else to believe them.
Chapter 2
Walking into the bookshop after showing the security guard on the door my invitation,
I followed the sounds of the hubbub into the back room. It had changed slightly since
my afternoon visit. Promotional posters of Gerald grinning and holding one or
another of his books covered the walls. Book displays lined the edges of the room. It
was clear the organisers expected that we would want to buy lots of books at the end
of the evening. The feelings I could sense were not of welcome nor necessarily
danger, but the audience was definitely not here as supporters. I would have to keep
an alert eye, just in case.
There were about thirty people sitting in the rows of chairs. It looked like I was
the last one to arrive, and I shuffled my way around the displays to reach the last
vacant chair. It was next to my grandma, which wouldn’t have been an accident. She
liked to keep her family close, mainly so she could whisper sarcastic comments in
our ears and then watch with amusement as we struggled not to laugh.
I nodded to everyone as I sat down. “Evening.”
Most replied or nodded in my direction. I wasn’t the most popular choice as
chief elder, and although the ceremony had been full of all the pomp anyone could
have wished for, many witches still had me on probation.
“Glad you could make it,” Grandma said sarcastically.
“Nice to see you too. Some of us work for a living. What’s wrong? Why are
you so grumpy? Missing Brian? You had the chance to go with him.”
“One of us had to stay and keep an eye on you.”
“Gee thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“I could catch a flight…”
“You’re staying right where you are,” I said quickly. “Ok, I admit defeat. I need
you here. Satisfied?”
“Of course,” Grandma said with a wide grin.
I glared at her. She always had the upper hand in our family. Technically, I
now outranked her in witching circles, but she would always be the matriarch of the
family, and she never let us forget it. A good thing then that we loved her; she was a
good ally to have.
The organiser of the event, a representative of the publishing company, and
the bookshop owner both approached the podium, and the room hushed. They made
introductions, and once the publishing rep had built up the author, she finished her
speech. “Ladies and gentlemen, I know you will join me in welcoming the great, the
talented, the man with uncanny insight, Mr Gerald King!”
Polite clapping met the words rather than the thunderous applause the
organiser had probably hoped for. I almost felt sorry for her.
Gerald burst from the side of the room, all smiles and bouncing on his feet.
“Thank you! Thank you!” he said, as if his welcome had been the best he’d ever
experienced instead of the decidedly lukewarm one it was. He was a short man of
wiry build, looking full of energy. His features were sharp. I would almost compare
him to pictures of Irish leprechauns or pixies but with black hair — the type of hair
that came out of a bottle. He seemed around fifty years old and moved like a man
who was always on the go.
What took me by surprise was the fact that I picked up on who he was, or
more appropriately what he was the moment he’d entered the room. He was a
warlock. Witches don’t like warlocks, and I’m sure the feeling is mutual. They have
few ethics or morals and don’t tend to mix well. I particularly had a dislike of them
after I’d found out that my old university tutor was a warlock with evil intentions but
had kept his real identity hidden. Warlock magic tended to be old and powerful and
of the not-very-nice kind. I was immediately on my guard, bending over to whisper
my discovery to Grandma. She raised her eyes in surprise but didn’t pass comment.
We turned our attention back to the podium, even more curious about our guest
speaker than we had been before.
He stood near the podium and bowed slightly. “Thank you for inviting me
here.” I exchanged a look with Grandma. “It is a real pleasure to know that you are
coming to appreciate my work for what it is – the truth about the supernatural world.”
“Hardly,” someone behind me called loudly and received a glare from the
bookshop owner.
Gerald seemed not to have heard the heckle. “At the end of the evening, I
hope to have convinced you, that without repression of our base urges, there will
never be equality. We all have the ability to be supernaturals, but most of us
understand that we should not respond to our darker sides.”
“So you want us to give up our magic?” a male witch asked. (We call men
witches also.)
“I want you to want to give it up.” Gerald smiled at the man. “Only then can
you join society fully.”
“This is a load of baloney,” the witch said, standing and moving along his row
to exit. “I’d rather be a witch than a deluded moron any day.” He left the room, and
there were a few other mutterings of discontent.
Gerald continued regardless. “I have planned a retreat in which you all, my
esteemed guests, have a ten per cent discount if you attend. During the five days,
we will work through ways you can learn to suppress your demons and become a
fully paid-up member of society, like the rest of us.”
The ripple that went through the audience was not filled with excitement.
Gerald went on to explain some of the content of the retreat and what we could
expect if we were daft enough to go on it. At the end of his monologue, the organiser
moved next to him.
“We have a few questions that we gathered from you prior to the presentation
starting,” the organiser said. “I’ll ask them of Gerald now.”
Again, I shared a look with Grandma. There had been no request for
questions as far as we were aware. It seemed they weren’t prepared to allow us to
ask whatever we wished. Definitely a wise move, if the continued mutterings in the
audience were anything to go by.
Taking the first piece of paper from her hand, the organiser looked at Gerald.
“What is it like, giving people like us the power to change into better people?”
I had to pretend to cough to cover the laugh that escaped at the question. I
was trying to act the part of chief elder, but what she’d said was just ludicrous.
Gerald spoke about his vocation and his calling, which received more cat-calls from
the audience.
Gerald turned to face us. “I feel your frustration, my friends, but believe me
there is a brighter future for you, if you only trust me.”
“Yet you need magic to protect you. We can feel the charms that have been
set in this room,” a woman called out.
Gerald smiled at her. “My dear lady. I know my words are controversial. I am
not foolish enough to expect my teachings will be welcomed by everyone.”
A woman stood up, holding up her hand as if she were asking permission to
speak, but she clearly wasn’t seeking consent as she started speaking straight away.
“Let’s start being truthful about your background, and then we can start again with an
honest discussion.”
A flicker of something passed over Gerald’s face, but the organiser quickly
stepped forward. “Gerald has been very honest about his childhood and upbringing
in his books. If you’d like to read about it, they will be on sale at the end of the
presentation, and he’ll even be around to sign a copy for you.”
“A watered-down version has been published, hasn’t it, Gerald?” the woman
persisted.
The audience was suddenly interested in the exchange rather than projecting
animosity towards the speaker. Gerald held up his hands. “As we have never met, I
have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“We have met, but I’ll let that go for now. You know my sister, don’t you?
Remember Barbara? Shall I tell everyone the truth, Gerald? Do you think you’ll sell
any books if the public knows what you’re really like?”
“I think her name is Catherine somebody or other,” Grandma whispered to
me. “She definitely doesn’t like him.”
“I think it’s time to call the session to an end,” the organiser said. “We’ll have a
short break, and then Gerald will be available to sign any books that are purchased.”
“That’s it! Avoid the truth about who you really are, like you always do. I
genuinely want to know the answer to this question: Is it exhausting constantly hiding
the real Gerald? Do you ever wish to be honest for once? Because you’ve been
deceiving people for years.”
“I think that’s enough,” the organiser said.
“Is it really?” A look seemed to pass between the two of them. It looked like
some sort of challenge, and I wondered if Catherine turned up at every event or if
she’d just come to this one.
“Yes.” The organiser turned away from Catherine and looked at the audience
in general. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your time today. Gerald will now
sign any books you wish to purchase. They are on special offer tonight.”
There was only the tiniest ripple of applause at the end, which was drowned
out by the murmurings coming from the audience.
“Well, that was interesting,” Grandma said.
“If there’s truth in what the woman was hinting at, he’s playing a dangerous
game, trying to keep secrets hidden when he’s so high profile.”
“And there’s no one more in the public domain than he is at the moment. He’s
on every television chat show there is.”
“I suppose he could be thinking there’s no such thing as bad publicity. If he
has a secret, they will be more likely to buy his autobiography,” I said.
“Are you going to buy anything?”
“No! I might have had to come here in a professional capacity, but I don’t have
to waste my money as well.”
“Said like an astute woman,” came the voice of Mrs Muriel Wilcox from behind
me. She was a friend of my grandmother’s, and over the last challenge I’d faced, had
become a friend of mine. That there was about a seventy-year age gap between us
didn’t seem to matter. I liked her company, admired her as a witch, and found it funny
that she kept my grandma on her toes with their banter.
“Thanks,” I grinned. “You weren’t sold on him either?”
“He’s a buffoon, but I know Catherine’s family, and she’s not one for spouting
false accusations. If there was something amiss, I’d be inclined to believe Catherine
over him,” Mrs Wilcox said of the witch who had spoken.
“Who’s the sister she referred to?” I asked.
“No idea. I don’t know anyone connected to Catherine who’s called Barbara. I
didn’t know she had a sister. I’ll have to speak to her, but she seems to have
disappeared,” Mrs Wilcox said, peering over our shoulders.
We turned and scanned the audience, but Catherine had vanished. “Perhaps
she didn’t want to stay now that she’s had her say,” I offered.
“Maybe she’s waiting outside to accost him. I don’t think it will be too long
before he leaves. It looks like no one is buying,” Grandma said with a nod to the
audience that seemed to be acknowledging others they knew and making their way
out of the building.
“There’s a police presence outside. I doubt she would get very far if she tried
it.”
The organiser of the event came out of the side room where Gerald was
hiding and looked around, disgust on her face.
“Somebody isn’t happy,” I whispered to my two companions.
“No. They aren’t going to make any money from tonight. It was a foolish
scheme to start with,” Grandma said.
“Part of me wants to be there when he presents at the vampire group,” Mrs
Wilcox said with a chuckle. “There won’t be any protection charms to save him that
night.”
“I’m sure their supreme elder will keep them in line,” I said.
“Said without a hint of favouritism or bias,” Mrs Wilcox chuckled. “How is your
gorgeous boyfriend?”
“Still gorgeous,” I admitted. We’d had a rocky start when we first met, but
these last twelve months had been perfect.
“They’re still in the honeymoon period. Just wait until they’ve been together for
seventy years, then we’ll see if they’re still loved up,” Grandma said.
“As one who is loved up herself, I don’t think you can criticise anyone else,” I
pointed out. Grandma flushed, which was such a rare occurrence that I laughed,
even though I received a glare at my outburst.
Mrs Wilcox tugged on my sleeve. “Look out. Bandits at two o’clock,” she said
in a stage whisper.
Turning, I was able to put on a welcoming smile to the organiser of the event
before she reached me.
“Hello. It’s Jenny, isn’t it? Cyril from the bookshop pointed you out. I’m
Heather, Gerald’s promotor. Gerald would like a word with you.”
I noticed that it wasn’t a question, but I nodded despite the rudeness. “That’s
fine. If you’d like to lead the way?”
I was interested at Heather being assigned this client. I had just detected that
she was a witch. I hadn’t picked it up sooner as the room was full of supernaturals,
but on her approach, I sensed it immediately. I wondered if she believed everything
Gerald was saying. I crossed the room and went into the small alcove that led off the
main room. There was a door to the back yard of the shop and a small kitchen area.
It wasn’t very grand for the star of the night to be hiding in, but it was probably better
being in here than facing the remains of an antagonistic audience in the main room.
“Ah, lovely lady. So nice to meet you at last,” Gerald said, leaning in to give
me a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so glad you have joined me. We have a lot to talk about,
as I think we can be of use to each other.”
“Oh?” I didn’t like being kissed by a stranger at the best of times, but I
especially didn’t like being kissed by one with whom I fundamentally disagreed.
Added to that, he was a warlock. Talk about three strikes and you’re out – he’d lost
me during his presentation, and now he’d just overstepped the mark completely.
There really wasn’t anything appealing about this man.
“Yes. I think you’ll agree that as chief elder, it is up to you to work with me in
convincing your minions that my philosophy is best for them. Here’s my card. I’m
sure we will be working together once you’ve heard what I propose,” Gerald said.
I took a step back after accepting his business card and slipping it into my
pocket. This man clearly had never come across the term ‘personal space.’ He was
standing way too close. I could feel his breath on my cheek, and it wasn’t pleasant.
“I’m afraid you’ve mistaken the remit of my role. I would never dream of trying to
influence anyone to do something they don’t wish to. I think the audience tonight
gave you a clear message of what they think of your theories. There is nothing I can
offer them that would change their minds.” I wasn’t being rude, but I wasn’t going to
lie to him. A flicker of anger showed in his eyes, and I could feel the annoyance
pulsing off him. “There is no point getting angry with me. Or anyone else for that
matter. It’s still a free country, and at the moment we are still able to choose to be
supernaturals. Some of us actually like being who we are.” Ok, so there had been a
time when I’d struggled with who I was, but there had been extenuating
circumstances in that regard.
“There will come a time when there will no longer be a choice, the general
populace is becoming sick of your kind,” Gerald snapped. Strange how, when the
nice façade disappeared, he looked a lot older and more wizened. I think I was
seeing the real man – or real warlock – at this moment.
“My kind? I think you are forgetting who you are, warlock,” I said. My comment
obviously hit a nerve, as his eyes blazed at me. My fingers tingled, ready to react if
he should attack me with magic.
“I have disowned my heritage, because I see it as the poison it is. I might
have been born a warlock, but I no longer identify as such,” he spat. “None of us will
ever get accepted if we cling to the thing that makes us different. How can we
influence those who keep us as at a disadvantage? We need to blend in to gain
power.”
I didn’t believe his words but had a feeling I was beginning to see the
motivation behind the author façade. Why did it always come down to who had the
power? Talk about caveman mentality. “Really? That’s what you wish for? Power?
Perhaps it would be better to work out ways of living side-by-side and embracing
who we are. Things wouldn’t be so bad if people didn’t go around stirring things up,
constantly reminding each other that we are different.”
“I am offering a perfect solution to all our problems. People need to start doing
as I propose.”
“You’re beginning to sound like some sort of dictator. I think you and your fans
need to accept that we are here to stay, and we can all live together in harmony as
long as you are prepared to play nice along with the rest of us.” If there was a touch
of the sardonic in my voice, I don’t apologise for it. The man was a complete lunatic,
and stirring up hatred was dangerous. I knew that only too well.
“Some would interpret your words as a warning towards me. That’s not a very
good message from a chief elder. I’m sure the press would be interested to know
that you go around threatening those who don’t agree with your principles.”
“That I want a peaceful community to live in? That is my only objective in
being head of my coven. If the press take exception to that, I’m afraid that is their
problem not mine. I don’t see why I have to defend my principles to them or anyone
else, but I refuse to subscribe to your school of thought. I can see I’m going to
achieve nothing by remaining here. We disagree on a fundamental level, so I’ll bid
you goodnight,” I said.
“You’ll regret not welcoming my theories,” Gerald said.
“I doubt that very much.” Turning on my heel, I returned to the large room,
which was empty now, and walked into the shop area. Grandma and Mrs Wilcox
were waiting for me, and I rolled my eyes at them when I reached them.
“Everyone has gone to the White Lion,” Grandma said of the pub across the
road. “It might be a good idea if we joined them.”
I sighed. I’d love to just be able to go home and let Oliver bring me out of the
bad mood I was in because of my conversation with Gerald King, but it seemed the
duties of chief elder were never over. I was probably going to be the one being
ranted at for the next couple of hours.
“Lead on,” I said, resigned to my fate. ...
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