A Witch in Love (2 page)

I was so wrapped up in thought that it was only the increasing pressure of Seth’s arm on mine that warned me something was wrong. I looked across at him; his face was set in anxious lines and his pace had speeded up to an almost uncomfortably fast walk.

‘What is it?’ I asked.

‘Shh,’ he said, almost under his breath. ‘Don’t look round, but there are two men following us.’

In spite of his warning I turned and, sure enough, there were two men in hoodies walking casually behind us.

‘They’re probably just going our way,’ I whispered back. Seth looked uneasy.

‘Maybe, but they’re going a very odd route. We’ve zigzagged around like anything, looking at the shops, and they’ve followed the whole way.’

‘Let’s turn back here,’ I suggested, indicating a very small side street that led back in the direction of the restaurant. ‘There’s no way they could be going that way by chance. It’s pointing directly back the way we came from. If they follow us down here we’ll know for sure and we can knock on a door or something.’

Seth nodded and we turned down the alley. The two men behind turned too, one with a quick glance up and down the main street to see if anyone had noticed. Coldness coiled in the pit of my stomach and I suddenly got the feeling we’d been very, very stupid to turn off the beaten track. It was only when I heard Seth swear under his breath with a note of panic in his voice, that I realized quite how stupid we’d been. The alley was a dead end.

As we reached the end I felt Seth squeeze my hand. There was nothing for it. We’d have to face them. My stomach clenched as if the ground had shifted beneath our feet, and we turned around.

‘Give us your phones,’ said the taller of the two, his voice hissing from beneath his hood.

The words should have scared me, but instead I sighed with relief. They were only ordinary men – boys really. Not what I’d been fearing since I saw the shadows of their faces, dark beneath their hoods. And I could give them what they wanted. I fumbled in my bag, happy to hand over anything that would get us out of the alley.

‘And yours.’ He nodded at Seth.

Seth sighed and yanked his phone out of his pocket.

‘Wallet.’

‘You can have the cash,’ Seth said, getting out his wallet and opening it, ‘but not the wallet.’

‘Shut up and hand the thing over.’

‘Look, it’s worthless. It’s just a cheap leather wallet.’ Seth held out a handful of notes. ‘This is sixty quid cash – but leave me the wallet. You know I’ll cancel the cards anyway.’

My heart was in my mouth and I had to clench my teeth to stop myself from screaming, ‘Hand over the wallet, you idiot!’ but I knew why he didn’t want to – it was his dad’s, one of the few things Seth had left since he died four years ago.

‘Hand. Over. The wallet,’ the bigger hoodie said, spitting each word like an insult. Seth shook his head. Then the smaller one sprang.

I screamed. For a short eternity there was a struggle, the sickening sound of fists hitting flesh and bone, and then the attacker staggered back and collapsed to the ground, blood pouring from his nose. Seth was panting, wringing his knuckles with pain from where he’d decked the boy, but otherwise unhurt. With his hood back it was clear the kid was a just a scrawny sixteen-year-old, pale from too many hours spent in front of the TV. He was no match for Seth, who spent every spare hour on the sea hauling on ropes and cables.

I was just about to run to Seth when I felt someone grab my hair from behind. There was the press of something cold at my throat. Seth went suddenly still, pale with fury, every muscle in his body tensed.

‘Hand over the bloody wallet or do you want your girlfriend breathing out of a different hole?’ the bigger guy whispered, the quiet hiss more frightening than any shout. I kept very still, feeling the chill of the blade against my throat as Seth took out the wallet and held it silently out. The guy let go of my hair to grab it and I stumbled forward to Seth.

‘Tosser,’ spat the hoodie, and he turned to leave. As he did, the knife flashed again. This time towards Seth.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. I saw the flash of the blade towards Seth’s ribs, heard the rip of cloth and Seth’s gasp of pain as he doubled up against the blow. Blood blossomed on his shirt. And I felt my power, so long suppressed, rise and boil and explode within me like a scream.

‘
NO!
’

There was a flashing white blast, like a bomb blast, a rippling circle of power that pulsed outwards. The two hoodies were flung backwards, crashing against the alley walls with a sick smack like the sound of roadkill. The searing light burnt an image into my retinas: ragdoll bodies splayed against rough stone. Then darkness flooded back. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light I saw them both, lying quite still on the ground, bleeding from their nostrils and ears.

I staggered, my legs weak with the sudden expulsion of power, and then Seth was beside me, hugging me, gripping my face and my shoulders with fierce strength.

‘Anna, Anna, are you all right?’

‘I’m fine,’ I gasped. ‘Are you?’

He looked down at his shirt, torn and stained with blood, and then lifted it to inspect his ribs. A bloody gash crossed his side.

‘It’ll heal.’

‘Ugh!’ I sobbed. ‘How could they? How could they? I was so frightened …’

We both looked down at the bodies and a new fear came over me.

‘Do you think…?’

‘I don’t know,’ Seth said. He knelt gingerly beside the older boy and touched his neck. ‘He’s got a pulse.’ He touched the other boy. ‘They’re both alive, thank God. I think you just knocked them out.’

He picked up the knife and wiped it clean on his bloody shirt, and then extricated his wallet and the phones from the older boy’s grip. Then, from quite close by, we heard a police siren start up, and we both stiffened as if any movement might attract the car. It passed, heading on up the high street, and I heard Seth’s shaky gasp of relief echo mine.

‘We need to get out of here,’ Seth said. ‘Is there anything that could lead them back to us?’

‘Just the knife, your blood …’ I wiped it again and then rinsed it in a puddle. It wouldn’t help if they bothered with forensics, but I prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

‘Hopefully when they come to they’ll just think they had a fight they can’t remember,’ Seth said, buttoning his coat over the bloodstains.

‘
If
 they come to.’

‘They’ll be
fine
,’ Seth said with fierce emphasis. ‘Anna, listen to me – they’re both breathing; they’ll be OK. Now come on, let’s get out of here.’

We walked swiftly up the alleyway. The high street was empty as we left, and we made our way as quickly and inconspicuously as possible to the car. My hands were shaking with spent adrenalin.

In the car Seth started the engine. He was about to move off when I suddenly said, ‘Wait, wait a sec …’

There was a phone box in the corner of the car park and I ran over to it and dialled 999.

‘Ambulance,’ I said breathlessly in response to the operator’s question, and then when I was put through, ‘Please send an ambulance to the alleyway off Brighthaven high street. I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s a little dead end between Topshop and Milly’s Tea Room. There are two men; they’ve been in a fight. They’re unconscious but breathing.’

‘Right. Can I take your name, please?’ the operator asked.

I hung up and ran to the car.

In the car on the way back I was silent, trying to keep myself under control. Seth looked at me sideways in the darkness, and I could feel his concern.

‘It’s OK, Anna,’ he said at last. ‘It’ll be OK.’

‘You don’t know that.’ I stared into the golden tunnels of the headlights; a frightened rabbit leapt into the hedge with a flash of white scut. ‘I ruined our evening; I ruined everything.’

‘
Don’t
say that,’ Seth said angrily. ‘You didn’t ruin anything. Those blokes could have killed us both. You got us out of there the only way you could. Would we be having this conversation if you’d hit them over the head with a rock?’

Probably. But anyway there was one massive difference, and Seth knew it. I was a witch and the two boys were just ordinary people, outwith, with no powers to defend themselves. I’d used an illegal weapon in an unfair fight – and put myself and Seth in danger.

Ever since my run-in with the Ealdwitan last year I’d promised myself, once and for all, never to use magic again and, so far, it seemed to be working. I’d had no more terrifying visits from the Ealdwitan’s grey-suited ‘employees’, no more back-door recruitment attempts, only a dry, official letter with an embossed crow crest, regretting ‘an unfortunate incident in June of this year, in which certain of our personnel exceeded their responsibilities and committed certain errors of judgement’.

Those ‘errors of judgement’ had resulted in the death of one of our friends, the flooding of Winter town, and the destruction of most of Winter Castle. And it all stemmed from my inability to keep my powers under control.

The Ealdwitan’s letter had promised ‘no further action, providing our previous terms and conditions are adhered to’. Which meant, in plain English: no casting spells on ordinary people and no practising magic. It wasn’t only the actions of the police we had to fear over tonight’s outburst, but the fury of the Ealdwitan too, if they ever got to hear about it.

The drive back from Brighthaven was a longish one, and I’d got myself under control by the time Seth bumped down the wooded track to Wicker House. He drew up in front of the house and took my hand.

‘Want me to come in?’

I shook my head, thinking of his bloody shirt and Dad’s probable reaction.

‘Better not. Your shirt. You know. Dad would ask questions.’

Seth nodded.

‘OK. But listen, Anna, please don’t fret about this. You did what you had to do. No one needs to know about this.’

I nodded soberly, but Seth must have read my unconvinced expression, because he pulled me to him and kissed me very hard.

‘I love you, Anna. Please, please don’t beat yourself up. Promise me? Sleep well, have a good day with Emmaline tomorrow and put this out of your head. Promise?’

‘I promise,’ I said, a lump in my throat.

CHAPTER TWO

I
 tried to keep my promise to Seth the next day, but I couldn’t stop myself tuning to the local news at breakfast. Dad came down to find me listening to Coast FM and making toast on the Aga, and did a comical double-take in the kitchen doorway.

‘What’s this? Up before ten in the school holidays? And what’s happened to the
Today
programme?’

‘I fancied a change,’ I said uncomfortably. ‘And I’m up early because I’m going to London with Emmaline today, remember? I’m meeting her at the station at nine.’

‘Of course, I’d forgotten. Do you need a lift?’

‘I’ll cycle,’ I said, and then broke off as the news came on. Dad was chatting about the preparations he still had to make for Christmas: picking up the goose, cutting the holly and so on; but I wasn’t paying attention. Instead I was listening desperately for any mention of two bodies found in an alleyway in Brighthaven. Nothing came up though, so at least they couldn’t be dead. There was precious little real crime down here, other than small-scale shoplifting and kids dealing the odd bit of weed. One death, let alone two, would have kept the local news occupied for weeks. As the bulletin ended I gave a silent sigh of relief and turned my attention back to Dad.

‘Sorry, Dad, what did you say?’

‘I said, it’s half eight. If you’re going to make that train you’d better get a move on.’

‘Cripes!’ I looked at the clock above the Aga. ‘I’d better fly. Bye, Dad.’

I kissed him and ran for the door, stopping only to grab my cycle helmet and rain mac. It looked like it was due for a downpour.

Emmaline was waiting on the platform when I ran up, hot and panting. She lowered her spectacles as I approached and stared at me haughtily over the lenses like a school teacher.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ I said, as she tapped her watch meaningfully. ‘I got sidetracked.’

Emmaline snorted. ‘You mean you slept in! Did you and Seth stay up too late declaring your undying love for each other?’

‘Not exactly,’ I said crossly, and told her about the scuffle in the alleyway. ‘So I stayed to listen to the Coast FM bulletin.’

‘And?’

‘Nothing, thankfully.’

‘So they’re not dead,’ Emmaline said thoughtfully. ‘Sounds like you got away with it this time.’

‘
This
time. But what about next time I slip up? I’m terrified, Em. It used to be such an effort to do any magic at all – now it’s an effort
not
to. I can’t control myself any more – electrical sparks, clouds of butterflies … Last night I made snow fall in the restaurant.’

The train drew up at that moment and there was a momentary scramble as we found seats and settled ourselves in a carriage. So close to Christmas there were few commuters and we managed to find a compartment to ourselves. I stowed our bags on the luggage rack and we drew out of the station to the sound of the guard’s whistle.