Mathilda, SuperWitch (Mathilda's Book of Shadows #1)(60)



* * * * *

Ever go down a flight of stairs carrying something heavy and wearing flip-flops?

You know the soft “flip… flop” sound that flip-flops make when you’re casually walking down the street?

Well, when you walk down the stairs carrying something heavy, they make more of a “FLIP!… FLOP!” sound – slapping against the soles of your feet, loud enough to wake the dead.

And let the bad guys know exactly where you are.

So this is how it went:

FLIP! FLOP! FLIP! FLOP!

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

(Dust and broken mortar flying hither and yon as bullets slam into the stone outside of house by stairwell.)

FLIP! FLOP! FLIP! FLOP!

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

(More dust, more debris – you get the picture.)

“Crap, crap, crap!” Su shouted when we’d finally made it to the bottom of the stairs. She dumped Althea unceremoniously on the floor.

“Careful!” I shouted.

“She’s lived for two hundred and three years! This is not gonna hurt her!” Su shouted back.

“Just get the invisibility spell ready!”

Su tore through the cottage, grabbing magickal supplies, tossing herbs this way, seeds that way, wrapping feathers with pentagrams and swinging them around, rubbing oil on her temples, my temples, Althea’s temples.

Then she started muttering to herself, mutters turned to rhymes, rhymes turned to chanting.

I did my own bit, threw some magical blobs. There were some explosions, some loud noises, rustling, crackles. The baddies went to investigate.

Then we grabbed Althea and off we went.

* * * * *

Flip-flops – as you may or may not know – have no traction.

They have a smooth sole.

Not exactly the proper footwear to utilize when traversing a wet lawn, carrying a two hundred and three year old, two hundred pound, drunken oracle, under an invisibility glamour that depends on your partner’s magical concentration.

Slip – Slide…

Crash!

And Su, Althea and I went down, ten feet from the Mini.

“We’re dead,” Su said as the glamour disappeared.

And indeed, it seemed we were as the baddies turned and aimed.

Then, vroom, vroom! the Mini started up in a thunder of revving engine and surged forward, zooming toward the men.

The men stared at the Mini in shock (which, to their eyes, was uninhabited due to the protection spell Su and I had put on Josie and Lucy). They scattered and ran for their lives as the Mini chased them around the glade.

It then turned, came swooshing, fish-tailing and vrooming back and skidded to a halt close to us.

Get in!” shouted Lucy, throwing open the door.

We managed to shove Althea into the back (she must have been seriously liquored up to go through all that without waking) and I took the wheel from Josie a split second before the guns starting blazing again.

Four women in a Mini was okay (barely).

Five of them, too much.

Way too much.

Miraculously, the bullets missed my Mini which escaped the scene without a scratch.

* * * * *

Needless to say, our arrival home was not heralded with streamers streaming and champagne corks popping.

In fact, this is what happened:

I caught sight of the Lush Jag in my rearview mirror somewhere in Gloucestershire.

Althea had awoken and was kinda pissed off that she’d been kidnapped.

(Understatement.)

And more pissed off that she was squished in the back between Josie and Su.

The Lush Jag kept its distance the entire way home.

A controlled distance.

But I got the impression it was a barely controlled distance.

When we stopped the car in The Gables, my posse and I sat transfixed watching as Ash slowly unfolded himself from the driver’s seat of the Jag.

And then, after we got out of the Mini, they deserted me, without a word and without remorse, guiding the teetering Althea into The Gables.

Ash stood, hip resting against the Jag, arms crossed on his chest.

I stood my ground, feeling (somewhat) safe with the Mini between us.

After I realized I was going to lose the staring contest, I gave a bit of a wave and said a (damn it all) feeble, “Hey.”

“What the f**k did you think you were doing?”

Er, okay, so it was good to know that Ash was mad and I had not misjudged the situation.

“Well, I –”

“If you ever even think of doing something so fantastically idiotic again, when you get back, I’ll find you, drag you somewhere very remote and chain you somewhere very uncomfortable. Do you understand me?”

So… damn… bossy!

And, I’ll add, threatening.

Me… no… likey!

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child!” I stamped my foot, yes, like a child but can you imagine the adrenalin going through my body? Someone shot at me! I couldn’t be responsible for my own stupidity at that point. And therefore, being really stupid, I charged around the Mini toward Ash. “I’m fine, they’re fine, everything is fine!”

“Stop,” he said in a voice that would normally have stopped me but just then, it didn’t, “You come any nearer to me, Mathilda, I won’t be responsible for what I do.”

I finally stopped, crossed my arms on my chest and leaned my torso back.

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