Mathilda, SuperWitch (Mathilda's Book of Shadows #1)(78)
We were greeted by the shampoo-deficient boy who was pointing a gun at us while his equally shampoo-neglecting (and also apparently conditioner-shy) girlfriend surveyed us from the sofa, a fag dangling from her mouth.
If you can believe, without hesitation, Ash walked right up to the kid and jerked the gun straight out of his hand.
Oh my goddess, I have to admit, even after my kickass display at The Hobgoblin, that scared the bejeezus out of me and I let out a little yelp.
“Don’t f**k with me, Jack,” Ash’s voice rumbled.
If Ash ever spoke to me in that tone of voice, I’d pee my pants on the spot.
(I wondered if the kid’s name was Jack or if Ash was calling him that to be scary cool. Though, he didn’t have to work too hard at being scary… or cool, for that matter.)
The kid stared at him, his expression a mixture of awe, fear and disbelief.
“You have twenty-four hours,” Ash warned.
Then we left.
I figured Jack would use his twenty-four hours wisely.
Or, at least, I hoped he would.
Aidan drove me home in my Mini while Ash followed us in a new platinum Audi TT coupe Quattro. Where the hell he got that, I don’t know, but it rocked!
The police had been Mavis’ed by the time we got back. They asked me a few questions in the Plush Parlor and after about ten minutes of polite questioning (mostly to do with my welfare, as in “Are you sure you’re all right?”) they were on their way, seemingly happy as clams.
The Witches Council wasn’t near that happy. After night fell, Aidan went to Wellington Terrace to make some calls to try and track down Ichabod and Ash retired to The Dungeons.
I was sitting outside with Su, Viv, Josie and Mom drinking martinis and giving them the low down on The Hobgoblin, Patisserie Valerie and my sexual rompus interruptus with Ash. Daphne the cat was with us, chasing bugs in the grass. BecBec was nowhere to be found.
At around eleven, we watched a witch-carrying broomstick flit across the moon. When she landed, she gave us a scroll of lilac, handmade paper wrapped in a black satin ribbon.
We gave her a martini.
The Witches Council requires the presence of: Mavis Lillian, Minerva Suki, Hanna Belle, Viviana Juliet, Mathilda Guinevere and Ursula Sadie Honeycutt as well as Althea Liza Appleton at a Council Gathering, first August, midnight, at the Avebury Circles.
The Gathering will consist of representatives from:
The Imperial Order of Elves
The Vampyre Dominion
The League of Werewolves
The Troll and Goblin Union
The Banshee Nation
The Magi
The Guild of Sorcerers & Sorceresses
The Fellowship of Wizards
The Elders of Le Société de Mathilde
The Directors of The Royal Institute of Psychical Research
The Gathering will be presided over by the Hag and the Unicorn with the Headless Horseman to adjudicate.
Kind Regards,
The Witches Council
(Endora Eccles, The Lady)
* * * * *
Headless Horseman?
Great.
23 July
I got up early to take care of donut lady and have a look at the devastation.
I had no idea what I was in for that day but I will say, at least, I was getting used to surprises.
Instead of trailing me, Ash said he’d meet me at Aidan’s at nine sharp and to keep my wand handy. A good aftereffect of my little demo at The Hobgoblin was that Ash felt a little better about me taking care of myself.
The donut lady seemed mollified after I handed her two chocolate buttercream stuffed donuts and a free Wicked Mocha (a mixture of hot cocoa and espresso poured over a square of Lindt eighty percent cocoa solid chocolate).
Once done, I headed to the bomb site.
They’d already begun to repair Marine Parade.
There were about a half dozen others looking at the hole in the road, mainly morning dog walkers.
The damage seemed small compared to how it sounded and felt. But then, Ash explained later, the bomb wasn’t meant to explode the road but instead something on it, namely me.
While I stared at it, a petite woman in a Dorothy Hamill haircut sidled over.
“Um, I’m sorry, could I just bother you a moment?” she asked me.
I looked at her and she blinked back what seemed to be tears.
“I saw it,” she whispered. “The silver dust, your silver dust, from your little stick. I saw it and it saved me.” She paused. “You saved me.”
Holy cow.
She must have been from an old Wiccan line and didn’t know it to see the magic.
Her voice caught. “I could have been…” She nodded to the hole. “I just wanted to say, thank you.” She reached out, hesitated then touched my arm briefly before she hurried away.
I watched her dragging her little Scottie dog behind her and before I could even react, someone else was talking to me.
“I know who you are.” It was a guy who looked like he’d stepped straight out of a diorama depicting Neanderthal man (except, of course, his hair was cut and his beard was trimmed and instead of animal skins, he wore a poorly-fitting Umbro t-shirt), “And I know if it wasn’t for you this wouldn’t have happened.”
Uh-oh.
He kept being a jerk. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll close up shop, take your crazy friends and go home. All the way home, if you know what I mean.”