Wicked Magic Read online

  Even if Nathan hated this idea, it was probably a good one. For humanitarian reasons, if nothing else.

  “Kseniya Kovopuskov has been transferred to your guardianship, hunterkind,” said Elder Nettle. “You must mark her in the presence of our Council, before you may remove her from the premises.”

  Nathan stared at the elder in panic. Mark her? He wasn’t a witch. How the fuck did he do that? Thinking fast, he said, “Cynthia, can you support her?”

  Cynthia took Kseniya’s weight. Nathan pulled the oak ward, the same one Aodhán had admired, from around his neck. It probably wasn’t hugely effective in defending, but the important thing was that it was a token of his own abilities. He handed Kseniya the amulet. She stared at him with wide eyes.

  “Go on,” Nathan murmured, using the same voice you’d use to soothe a scared animal. With shaking hands, she dropped the leather cord around her neck.

  “Will that do?” Nathan asked the elder.

  “If it must,” Elder Nettle said. Maybe he was trying to sound bored, but he actually seemed frustrated. Nathan got the feeling he’d just interfered with their plans in a big way. If only he could figure out what the plan was, and how he’d ruined it.

  “Now leave,” the elder added. The guide stepped forwards. Nathan slung an arm around Kseniya. He ended up taking most of her weight. They made an oddly shaped beast, stumbling down the stairs, and she practically fell into the punt, but Nathan wanted them out of there ASAP. Kseniya didn’t have any protection from the Witch Council.

  “What have you done?” Cynthia asked once they were back on dry land and had returned their tokens.

  I don’t know, Nathan thought. “Hopefully the right thing.”

  “She doesn’t look too good,” Cynthia said worriedly.

  “Yeah.” Nathan pulled his coat off and shucked his jumper, handing it over to Kseniya. It probably needed washing, but it would be warmer than what Kseniya was wearing.

  “They fetched her awfully quickly,” Cynthia said. “You think she was a prisoner?”

  “Maybe,” Nathan said. He took out his phone and called Monica.

  “Did it work?” she greeted.

  “It worked,” Nathan confirmed. “Kseniya’s with us.”

  “Already?”

  “She was on the premises.” Nathan frowned. “She’s not looking too good. I think we need to take her to the hospital.”

  There was a long pause.

  “Yeah,” Monica said. “Okay. Do you know who the doctor is at the JR who works with supernaturals?”

  “Doctor Govender?”

  “Right. Ask for him. I’m going to check for flights.”

  “You’re coming back? Don’t do that,” Nathan protested.

  “Someone’s going to have to look after Kseniya. You guys need the help. Nate—I heard from Adrian. Adrian! That your dad was here and investigating the Sahir. Not cool.”

  Nathan winced. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

  “Consider me worried.” Monica didn’t sound worried. She sounded furious. “I’ll try to get hold of Jeremiah now, see how soon I can fly back.”

  Nathan’s stomach churned with worry. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, then. I’m going to call Adrian. See if he can give us a lift to the hospital.”

  “Do that. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Yeah, see you.”

  Monica hung up. Nathan scowled at the phone.

  “Alright?” Cynthia asked.

  “Monica wants to fly home. She always does this.” Nathan groaned in frustration. “She always tries to solve everyone else’s problems.”

  “Sounds like someone else I know.” Cynthia jerked her chin towards Kseniya, who was sitting on a low wall, shivering. “We need to get her out of the cold.”

  “Yeah. Let me call Adrian.”

  Adrian was as frantic as Monica had been. “Are you alright?” he demanded. “I don’t need to kill any witches, do I?”

  “Fine, and no,” Nathan said. “But I do need a lift.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Magdalen Bridge. We have Kseniya with us.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll explain later,” Nathan said. “How quickly can you get here?”

  Adrian had no regard for traffic laws, so he pulled up in his Volkswagen Golf in double-time.

  “Can you take us to the JR?” Nathan asked.

  “I’m okay,” Kseniya whispered. Nathan glanced back at her. She was huddled up like a frightened animal.

  “You need to go to a hospital,” Nathan said.

  “I’m okay, please,” she begged. “No hospitals.”

  “Yeah, I agree with Nate,” Adrian said drily. “And lucky me, I’m driving.”

  He didn’t pull off yet, though. Nathan gave Kseniya a pleading look. “Just let them make sure you’re okay,” he said. “We’ll keep you safe.”

  Kseniya fingered the amulet around her neck. “You made this?” she whispered.

  “Yeah,” Nathan said. “I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”

  Kseniya nibbled on her lip nervously, and finally nodded. Adrian pulled the car off the pavement.

  “How the fuck did this happen?” he asked.

  “I got a boon from the witches because that guy stabbed me,” Nathan said as Adrian did a hair-raising U-turn, making the tyres squeal. “Seriously, I’m surprised you have tyres left, Adrian.”

  They made quick progress to the hospital, and with some persuasion, elicited Doctor Govender’s presence. Kseniya was whisked away into a hospital room, and Nathan, Cynthia, and Adrian settled outside to wait.

  “Monica wants to fly back,” Nathan told Adrian.

  “Figures,” Adrian said. “I’ll bet she’s been planning it since Halloween.”

  “I wish she wouldn’t. The internship was important to her.”

  Adrian just shrugged. “It’s Monica. Anyway, Jeremiah can sort something out for her.”

  Nathan turned away in dissatisfaction. A moment later, the doctor came out of the room and headed off. A nurse followed him out and beckoned to Nathan. He stood up to join her.

  “Are any of you related to Kseniya?” asked the nurse.

  “No, we’re… friends,” he replied awkwardly.

  “We need to know what happened to her,” the nurse said. “So that we can figure out the best treatment.”

  Nathan mulled that over for several moments.

  “I’m not exactly sure,” he said finally, trying to stick as close to the truth as possible. “I hadn’t seen her in a while, but she called me for help today.”

  The nurse looked unhappy. “She’s over sixteen, right?”

  Nathan honestly had no idea. “Yes.” He shrugged.

  “I can’t discuss her treatment with you, but she seems quite unwilling to talk to the doctor. Is there any way you could…?” The nurse frowned.

  “Let me speak to her,” Nathan suggested, even though he had no idea what he’d actually say.

  He steeled himself and headed into the hospital room. There were two beds, separated by a screen. A middle-aged lady was sleeping on the other. Kseniya looked very small and young, lying in her bed and covered by a thin blanket. Nathan felt an odd surge of protectiveness.

  “Hi.” He edged over to the bed. Kseniya watched him, wary like a wild animal. She brought a hand up and clutched at the amulet, so tight her knuckles went white.

  “It’s okay.” There weren’t any chairs, so Nathan sat on the edge of the bed. “How’re you feeling?”

  Kseniya’s eyes darted to the nurse and back to Nathan. She nodded hesitantly.

  “Okay?” Nathan asked, not understanding. Hesitantly, he switched to Russian. “Ty v poryadke?”

  “Da,” Kseniya mumbled. It was pretty obviously a lie.

  “Okay,” Nathan said again. “Well, Doctor Govender is one of us, so you can trust him. Hopefully we can sort you out and then you can come home with us, alright?”


  Kseniya nodded. With shaky fingers she took the amulet off and held it out. Nathan frowned.

  “You can keep that.”

  “You don’t need it?” Kseniya croaked. “You’re not… protected without it.”

  “I don’t think it works,” Nathan told her gently, mindful of the nurse who was fluttering about the other patient. “It was just an experiment to see if I could make it.”

  Kseniya stared at him in confusion. She looked down at the amulet, strung between her slender fingers.

  “Keep it please,” Nathan said. “I can make another one.”

  Kseniya put the amulet back around her neck, pressing it to her chest.

  “I will talk to the doctor,” she mumbled. “If you think it’s okay.”

  “Yeah,” Nathan said. He hesitated briefly, then grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “I’m just outside if you need anything.”

  He left the room as the doctor entered again and collapsed onto the plastic chair beside Cynthia.

  “Hey, Cynthia, you can see magic, right?”

  “Yes,” Cynthia said, watching as nurses and patients bustled by. “You know that.”

  “The amulet I gave Kseniya… what do you see when you look at it?” Nathan asked.

  “It glows white and gold,” Cynthia replied, furrowing her brow. “Like all your other wards. Why?”

  Nathan fiddled with a loose thread on his jeans. He’d worn old, ripped jeans in front of the Witch Council—his father would die of embarrassment if he ever found out.

  “No reason,” he muttered, but his mind was racing. The amulet had never worked well for him, and it had never really looked very magical. Magic was sixty percent belief. Kseniya and Cynthia had no reason not to believe that the amulet worked, so they thought it did. Was it really that simple? Were his protective amulets failing because he didn’t believe in them?

  Hunters weren’t brought up to believe in things they couldn’t see. It was why they usually only made basic amulets. Complicated magic required leaps of faith: faith in yourself, in the person performing the magic, and in the magic itself. Hunters were too busy killing to worry about faith.

  Cynthia reached over and caught his hand in hers. “Hey, you’ll figure it out.”

  “I hope so.”

  Nathan could do with a bit of faith in his life.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE DOORBELL RANG AT eight-thirty on Monday evening. Mum and Dad had just headed to their hotel, and Aunt Anna was helping Jess with her homework. Nathan opened the door, and was immediately pulled into a hug.

  “Monica!” He wriggled his way free. “You’re back.”

  “What were you thinking?” Monica promptly burst into tears. Nathan stared at her in alarm, then beckoned her into the house. She shook her head.

  “Get your stuff,” she said between sobs. “Come over to mine.”

  “Sure.”

  Five minutes later, they were on their way. Monica had mostly mastered the tears, but every so often she’d hide her face behind a hand and sniffle loudly.

  “I really didn’t mean to worry you,” Nathan said lamely. “I didn’t want you to fly back early.”

  “It’s fine—I hated Morocco anyway.” Monica wiped her eyes, to no avail. “I just… you’re such an idiot. I can’t believe you got stabbed. You could have died!” Her voice went up into a wail at the end.

  “That’s generally the intention behind stabbing someone.”

  “Nathan!” Monica smacked him on the arm. “It’s not funny!”

  “Ouch! Alright, alright, I’m sorry. I really didn’t want you to worry. It’s not like I meant to get stabbed.”

  Monica looked distinctly unimpressed.

  “When did you get back?” Nathan tried.

  “This morning. I’ve unpacked, and I picked up supplies.”

  “Supplies?”

  “For protective wards.”

  “Oh.”

  Monica let them into her house, and through the kitchen into the garage. Much like Nathan’s garage, Monica’s had been converted into a workshop. The air was pungent with a mixture of incense, smoke, and magic. Candle stubs littered every surface, and the shelves were packed with a range of tools and materials.

  “Are you running a business out of here?” Nathan joked.

  “Maybe I should. Might help keep you alive.”

  “Har-har. Want tea?”

  “Sure.”

  Whilst Monica set up, Nathan ducked back into the little kitchen and made them tea. Once he was done, he settled on a padded bench against one wall, watching Monica, who was grinding herbs in a mortar and pestle.

  “Have you seen Kseniya yet?”

  “Yeah, I went there before I came to fetch you.” Monica’s hair hid her face as she spoke.

  “And?”

  “Better. She wasn’t too pleased to see me.”

  Nathan blew on his tea and took a sip. “Wonder why?”

  For several moments, Monica feigned intense focus on her herbs. Finally, she said, “We parted on awkward terms. It’s nothing—we’ll get over it.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  Nathan considered that for a few seconds. Monica would come clean eventually. She usually did. He decided to let it slide. “Any word on when she’ll be discharged?”

  “In a day or two. They had the drip out. They’ve just been watching her to make sure she doesn’t get refeeding syndrome. I’m going to bring her here when she’s out.”

  “Is that safe?” Nathan asked.

  “As safe as any other option.” Monica shrugged and set her mortar and pestle aside. From a drawer, she took two thin wooden bangles, one smaller than the other.

  “Think they’ll wear these?” she asked.

  “Who?”

  “Cynthia’s mum and her sister.”

  “I guess.”

  Monica set about transferring her rune sequences onto the bangles. Nathan drank his tea slowly.

  “What are you going to do next?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that.” Nathan studied the design on his cup. “I think I should have another chat with Cynthia’s mum.”

  “You think so?” Monica looked up, suddenly interested. “You think she knows something?”

  “I don’t buy what she told us before. The Sahir could go after any target they wanted—they’re a big organisation. And they have no reason to just chase one family around the globe. It’s too… neat.”

  “They always struck me as opportunistic, I mean, they grabbed Emma from school, and they got you because they saw you and Cynthia at TWL.” Monica frowned. “I wonder how they got Kseniya?”

  “They definitely seem opportunistic to me,” Nathan said. “And it’s not as though they seem to be snatching shapeshifters left, right, and centre, or we’d have heard of it. So…”

  “What’s the missing link?”

  “Exactly.”

  Monica studied her bangle critically, twisting it so the runes caught the light. “How will you get her to talk?”

  “By asking nicely?”

  “You think that will work?”

  “Can’t hurt to try.” Nathan shrugged. “If not, I don’t know. If we force her hand, she’ll take the family and run. She’s already giving Cynthia a hard time.”

  “Has to be rough, not being able to settle anywhere, being afraid all the time.”

  “Yeah, but why?”

  They both fell silent, considering that. No matter how Nathan looked at it, he was missing a piece of the puzzle.

  “When can you finish the wards by?” he asked.

  “Give me a day or two, why?”

  “I’m meant to be getting dinner at Cynthia’s place some time this week. Maybe if I take those as a peace offering…”

  Monica studied the bangle thoughtfully. “Yeah,” she said slowly, “that could work. If I…” She frowned. “Nate, check in that cupboard if there are any keyrings.”

  Nathan pulled open one of the many cu
pboards at the back of the garage.

  “Third shelf,” Monica added. “There should be a box.”

  “Got it.” He pulled it out and passed it over to her. Monica checked the contents.

  “Perfect,” she said. “Give me a few days, and I can whip you up something really good.”

  It didn’t take long for Monica to come through on her promise. On Friday, Nathan met Cynthia at the bus stop on the High Street and passed over the wrapped paper package.

  “Wards for your mum and sister,” he said. “Courtesy of Monica.”

  “Thanks.” Cynthia untwisted the paper enough to catch a glimpse. “Huh, cute. Monica’s pretty artistic.”

  “If they’re in trouble, they can snap the bangles in half. I have the key.” Nathan showed her his keyrings. “They’ll heat up.”

  “Neat!”

  “Hopefully it’ll be enough to get your mum to relax a bit.”

  “I hope so.” Cynthia scowled. “She’s driving me up the wall. I’m sure she’s hiding something, too. She dances around the topic… and she won’t look me in the eye.”

  Nathan grimaced. “In my experience, adults always keep secrets.”

  “I wish they wouldn’t.”

  “Me too.”

  Nathan steered Cynthia down Cornmarket. “Where are we meeting the others?” she asked.

  “Duke of Cambridge. It’s a bar. I guess Adrian’s planning on compelling the bartender not to ID you.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s not far.” Nathan caught her hand. “Let’s talk about something fun.”

  “It’s almost Christmas,” Cynthia said. “I love Christmas.”

  “I can’t wait for the holidays.” Nathan grinned.

  A short walk later, they arrived. The Duke of Cambridge was a student bar up in Jericho, which tended towards dark, elegant décor. Adrian and Monica were already waiting. Adrian went up to buy the first round and persuade the bartender not to ID Cynthia.

  “That’s creepy,” Cynthia whispered.

  “It’s downright unethical. And by the way, it’s also very bad for people,” Nathan said pointedly as Adrian came back to the table with their drinks.

  Adrian rolled his eyes. “Convenient, though.”

  Nathan made a face.

  “Cheers,” Monica said, and they clinked their glasses together. Nathan hoped the topic of vampire mind control would be forgotten, but of course it wasn’t his lucky night.