Witch Fire (16 page)

‘Right,’ she said blankly.

‘I’ll tell you everything that happens.’

Glory smiled at that. ‘You’d better. Partners, remember?’

‘Of course. Always.’

He smiled back at her. There was another pause, a waiting one. It took both of them an effort to look away.

The basement was a cramped and dingy warren. Lucas walked towards the thrum of machinery, and into the warm fug of the laundry room.

Jenna was waiting by a rank of tumble dryers.

‘
Thanks for coming. You sure nobody knows you’re here?’

‘I’m sure.’ He looked around him and shut the door. ‘Shouldn’t there be a maid or something?’

‘I’ve taken care of it. Anyways, we’ve got bigger problems to worry about.’

He stared at her in confusion.

‘You were careless,’ she said. ‘You left evidence behind you last night. The guardians found a hat on the roof: a black wool beanie. They know someone’s been sky-leaping.’

Glory’s hat. Damn. It took a moment to steady himself. ‘I don’t see why you should think that’s anything to do with me. Someone broke in last night; I heard Peters say.’

Jenna gave a small humourless laugh.
‘
That someone was me. And I sure as heck wasn’t sky-leaping. I wasn’t careless either – just unlucky. There was a motion sensor in Lazovic’s office I didn’t know about. But thanks to you and your woolly accessory, they now think witchwork was involved. And that makes life more complicated for all of us.’

Lucas was struggling to keep up. ‘It was
you
?’

‘S7 Agent White. Nice to meet you. I hear July’s a good month for alpine flowers, even though there’s still snow on the mountainside.’

It was the code phrasing Lucas had been told to expect from the MI6 agent who was visiting him tomorrow. So he wasn’t being waylaid by an amorous cheerleader. Section Seven – S7 – was the American equivalent of WICA. The US Inquisition, based in Salem, Massachusetts, was called the Witchkind Security Agency, or WSA.

Jenna leaned back against the dryers. Her girlish features had hardened, and her voice had lost its sugary drawl. Lucas wondered how old she really was. ‘OK, so here’s how it is. My team have had this place under surveillance for a while. That’s how we can be sure of being undisturbed down here, by the way – we’ve got an asset in the domestic staff. But two agencies running two operations in the same joint is only ever going to end in tears. So my guys have spoken to your guys . . . and everyone’s agreed it’s time to talk.’

‘Fine,’ said Lucas. ‘You first.’ He resented her superior tone.

‘
Then I’ll start with Chase Randolph Parker III.’

‘Quite a name.’

‘Quite a guy. Son of a Supreme Court judge, heir to an oilfield. A little birdie told the WSA he’d got the fae aged seventeen. The informant even supplied a snapshot of the Devil’s Kiss, on the kid’s ankle bone. But before anything could be done about it, hey presto, Chase was whisked off to Wildings. So far, so predictable – until he came home after graduation, that is.’

She spoke quickly and quietly, with an offhand sort of impatience.

‘
The WSA was over him like a rash, but he and his family stuck to their guns: he wasn’t a witch, never had been, never would be. So the investigating officer bided his time. He figured the impulse to use the fae would prove irresistible. Sure enough, and sooner rather than later, Chase Parker was found in the neighbourhood of a minor witchcrime.

‘
The boy was immediately taken in and witch-swum. Nothing. Witch-pricked too. Nothing. The mark on his ankle was gone. He really was just an innocent bystander – fae-free.’

Lucas bit his lip. ‘And he’s normal in every way? In good health?’

‘Apparently so.’

‘OK, maybe your original information was wrong. It could have been a malicious accusation.’

‘It could. But we don’t reckon it was.’ She looked at him shrewdly. ‘You got any other explanation for a kid who’s a witch one day, and not the next?’

Lucas hesitated. He hadn’t had a chance to pass on his findings to WICA yet. He didn’t know how open Jenna was really being. But in the circumstances, he had to give her something. Briefly, he described his dealings with doctors Caron and Claude, but without going into the specifics of the procedure, or mentioning the name of the company. He kept Rose Merle out of it too.

‘Hm.’ She drummed her fingers on the top of the dryer. ‘Interesting. We’ve heard the rumours, but never managed to follow them up. Sounds like it’s time to start joining the dots.’

‘So what now? We team up?’

Jenna paused. ‘Look . . . I’ve had my instructions. And, yeah, inter-agency cooperation is all the rage these days. But the fact is, there’s a lot of unease at Control. We don’t get what Glory’s doing here.’

‘What do you mean? She’s my partner.’

‘She’s got criminal associations.’

‘
That’s in the past. Glory’s left the covens behind.’

‘It’s not just the covens, though, is it? It’s Endor.’

Lucas felt a premonitory tremor of alarm. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Nice try.’ Jenna shook her head. ‘We both know that your Inquisition coerced Edie Starling into joining Endor as a double agent. She fed them chicken feed for a year or two, then vanished. If she’s still alive, then odds are, she’s been turned.’

‘Edie’s activities are nothing to do with Glory.’ The words grated in his throat. ‘She doesn’t even know about the Endor connection.’

‘I’m sure she doesn’t.’ Jenna raised her brows. ‘Or that a certain Ashton Stearne was part of the clique who forced Edie undercover in the first place. But either way, Glory Starling’s a liability. Damaged goods.’

There was a noise from outside. They both stiffened. Lucas knew what it was: breaking glass. Too late, he saw the tumbler on the floor behind a pile of laundry bags. Too late, he looked in the doorway to see Glory standing there. She was holding a shard of glass in a bloody fist. It was the shattered remains of the other half of a listening talisman. Her face was so white and pinched the bones seemed ready to poke out of the skin.

‘Oops,’ said Jenna.

There was a rushing and beating inside Lucas’s head. ‘Glory. Glory, I –’

He put out his hand towards her, and she jerked violently away.

‘Liar. Traitor. Get away from me.’

‘It’s not what you think.’

‘I think I’ve been played for a fool. And that you went along with it, every step of the way.’

‘I’m sorry. I hated not being able to tell you. They told me if I did, I’d get thrown out of the service. They threatened me with prosecution.’ It sounded pathetic, even as he said it.

‘
“
They
” all knew, did they? Rawdon, Jonah, Zoey, Carmel . . . Everyone but me. Christ!’ She spat on the floor. ‘What was the master plan, then, Lucas? To use me like your dad used my mum? As some kind of
bait
?’

‘No, of course not. Listen, it’s complicated –’

‘
Don’t hexing patronise me
.’ Glory drew a ragged breath. ‘I should’ve known. Like father, like son. I was a fool to ever think you was different. A fool to trust you, to think that you – that we –’

Her mouth quirked bitterly. Then she turned on her heel and ran.

A heavy-faced man in a cleaner’s uniform was standing at the foot of the stairs. As Glory shouldered him aside, he looked at Jenna quizzically. Jenna shook her head, and when Lucas moved forward, dug her shiny pink nails into his arm.

‘Calm down. You’ll only make this a bigger mess than it already is. You’ve a job to do, remember.’

Lucas wrenched himself free, but when he reached the top of the stairs, Glory had gone.

Chapter 17

Glory stormed blindly through the castle. Harsh and unfamiliar tears rose in her eyes. She struck them angrily away.

She had decided to snoop on the meeting on a whim. Last night’s witchwork had reinvigorated her; that afternoon, all she wanted was to indulge her curiosity and make some mischief. When she’d sneaked down to the basement, waiting for the chance to pick the lock on the caretaker’s cupboard and position herself among the cleaning supplies, she hadn’t even expected the stunt to work. The laundry room the other side of the wall was noisy with machines, and a listening talisman was hard to manage at the best of times. As her finger had circled the rim of the tumbler in her hand, calling to the fae vibrating through the glass she’d placed next door, the thread of sound that stretched between them was almost too thin and colourless to hear.

Yet the words still came, and with them, Glory’s every nerve underwent a separate hammer blow of shock. She didn’t remember breaking the glass. Either she’d gripped it too hard, or she’d lost control of the fae buzzing through her body. Her fingers were still smeared with blood. She regretted it was hers. She wanted to cause some damage.

Edie looked very young in the photograph Glory had always kept by her bed. Her expression was ill at ease. Perhaps when the picture was taken, she was already preparing to go. And what had Glory been left with? Her lovely, useless, defeated Dad. Charlie Morgan, with his shark-tooth grin. Bitter old Angeline – another person who’d lied to and betrayed her, and manipulated her for her own ends . . .

I love you, but it’s better if I go. Forgive me
. No wonder the note had been so short. Edie had been blackmailed, perhaps with threats against her husband and child. And yet the prickers had got their claws into her daughter all the same. Twelve years later, here she was, doing their dirty work.

Well. Not any more.

Rounding a corner, Glory nearly ran smack into Raffi. He was dragging an enormous suitcase behind him and the guardian escorting him was carrying another.
‘
There you are, Glory! I was looking to say
adios
. Have you seen where is Lucas?’

She was about to shake him off, then stopped. ‘Wait for me,’ she said, with an urgency that made him blink. ‘Five minutes. Wait.’

Glory raced back up the stairs, through the passageways and into her room, where she threw a few essentials into a shoulder bag. She tore the spare passport out of its hiding place, and pounded downstairs and out on to the castle forecourt. Raffi was standing by the side of a white limousine. Cordoban rap was pumping out of the sound system and his driver was loading the boot, resplendent in aviator sunglasses and a tight white suit. A small group of students and staff had assembled on the steps to say goodbye. Jenna and Lucas were there too.

Glory skidded up to Raffi. ‘Can I have a lift?’

‘You are
leaving
? For why?’

She shrugged, and hitched her bag over her shoulder. ‘Need a change of scene.’ Then, under her breath, ‘Get me outta here. Please.’

Raffi grinned. ‘OK, sure. Jailbreak . . . road trip. Whatevers!’

Lucas moved out of the knot of onlookers. He looked ill. ‘Glory, please don’t do this.’

‘Shut up,’ she hissed. ‘Shut up, else I’ll only make it worse for you.
Both
of you.’ She shot a glance in Jenna’s direction. Poisonous bitch. ‘Don’t you get it? I’ll burn before I see or speak to you again.’

‘Gloriana!’ Principal Lazovic was marching down the steps, Mrs Heggie at his side. His neat little face was twitching with anger. ‘You cannot leave on a whim. Your family must be consulted, the proper procedures followed.’

‘Besides,’ said the matron righteously, ‘you have no resources. Without the necessary paperwork –’

‘I got all I need.’ Glory waved her passport at them. ‘No one’s kept here against their will; that’s what you said. You can’t stop me.’

‘You are here for your own protection,’ the principal said. ‘We have a duty of care –’

Glory flung her back her head. ‘WITCH!’ she howled. ‘I’m a WITCH! Hecate’s Little Helper! Mab’s Handmaiden! A hexing harpy HAG! There.’ She gave the finger to the gaggle of shocked faces. ‘Consider me expelled.’

This time nobody tried to stop her. She jerked open the passenger door and got into the limo. Raffi came and sat beside her, speechless for once. The car moved on, past the guardians, past the checkpoint and wire fence. The castle was swallowed up by trees. Glory sat back against the leather seat and closed her eyes. A terrible, wordless loneliness descended.

Lucas followed the others back into the academy. There was no other choice. He could feel Jenna’s eyes on him but kept his face stonily blank. He was furious with her, and even more furious with himself.

And because Dr Caron was the last thing he wanted to deal with, there she was, waiting in the hall. ‘Ah, Lucas. We have an appointment now. I hope you didn’t forget?’

It was even worse when he sat down in her office. He tried not to look at the bathroom door. He tried not to think of the giddy rooftop swoops, the scramble on the ledge . . . Glory’s eyes, black and bright . . . his hands in her hair . . .

The therapist pushed her oversize glasses up her nose. ‘I had not realised you and the coven girl were so close.’