Tegan's Magic

  “Oh goodness no. I decided not to tell him. I knew he never planned to be in my life for very long, so I thought it better for my child – more stable – if I allowed Filipp to believe she was his.”

  “That’s kind of shady,” I comment.

  Emilia laughs at this. “Well, at the time I was a very shady lady.”

  “But you aren’t anymore?”

  Lifting her head to meet my eyes, she whispers, “No, not anymore.”

  Why don’t I believe her when she says this? I think on it for a while, not noticing the lack of conversation until Emilia begins talking again. “So, this is your house that you live in with Ira. Tell me, are you two involved?”

  I cough. “No. Ira’s my friend. Well, he was sort of my temporary pet until he changed back into a man. The house belongs to my other, uh, friend, Finn. He’s a slayer with the DOH.”

  “You live here with two men?”

  “Yep. Oh and Gabriel too. He’s a dhamphir.”

  “Three men?” her voice rises a note. Even though her assumptions are wrong, I’m surprised she’s acting so shocked given all her years of adulterous promiscuity.

  I laugh. “Despite what you’re thinking, it’s not like that. We all live together because the times are unpredictable and it’s safer this way.”

  “I have to admit, in all my years I don’t think I’ve ever come across such an arrangement. A shapeshifter, a slayer, a dhamphir and a witch all living under one roof. The times, as you say, really are unpredictable.”

  “It does sound sort of like the beginning to a crap joke when I think about it.”

  At this, Rita comes back into the room, carrying a stack of dusty hardback books. As we set to work looking through them, Emilia instructs us on which chapters to consult, as though she knows these books from cover to cover. When I ask her about it she says that all members of the magical families are schooled in witchcraft from a very young age. She grew up learning all of these texts by heart.

  After a few hours of reading through spells and scribbling down notes, we finally settle on a spell intended to protect a person from being found by malevolent creatures. The malevolent creatures bit basically refers to anyone who means to do the person harm, supernatural or otherwise.

  For the spell we need a clear, empty space. Rita and Emilia begin moving the furniture out into the garden. I’m surprised when Emilia offers to help, since she doesn’t exactly look like an elbow grease sort of dame. However, she doesn’t go about moving the furniture in the “human” way. Instead she uses magic. If you didn’t know what was going on, you’d think we had a poltergeist. One that wanted to rearrange Finn’s kitchen in a very mannerly fashion.

  “That is cool as shit,” Rita exclaims, watching as Emilia lifts a chair with nothing but a wave of her hand. Emilia shows Rita how to do it and then the both of them are at it. Deciding I’m only getting in the way, I step out into the hallway to call Finn.

  “Hey,” he answers, sounding breathless.

  “Um, hi. Did I get you at a bad time?”

  “Nah, we just finished up with a hunt. I think I might have broken a record with all the chaos killing I did today.”

  “Well, you’re nothing if not thorough,” I joke.

  “Oh, you haven’t seen the half of how thorough I can be,” he adds huskily.

  I try to think of a good comeback, but none spring to mind. Instead, I swiftly change the subject. “Rita, Emilia and I have figured out the spell. Is there any way you can let Pamphrock know? We’re setting it up now, so I kind of need him to bring Rebecca over as soon as possible. Oh, and I need Emilia and Rita with me to do this, so you’ll have to okay that with Pamphrock. I know he’s a little touchy about people knowing about Rebecca.”

  “You told Emilia?!” he lets out a low curse.

  “Calm down, I haven’t told her who Rebecca is. Not yet, anyway. But once Pamphrock arrives it’s going to be pretty obvious.”

  Finn sighs. “Okay, I’ll take care of it. How has Emilia been? Any weirdness?”

  “Too much weirdness, but not the kind you’re thinking of. We had a little heart to heart and she told me that her husband Filipp wasn’t actually my mother’s father. Get this, it was a sorcerer she had an affair with!” I exclaim in hushed tones.

  “Jesus. It wasn’t Theodore, was it? Because if it was, for a fella with a face on him like a Rottweiler chewing on a bee he got some decent amount of action in his day.”

  I laugh. “A Rottweiler chewing on a bee?”

  Finn chuckles. “Irish joke, never mind.”

  “Uh okay. And no it wasn’t actually Theodore. That’s the conclusion Rita and I initially jumped to. But apparently it was some guy called Roman.”

  “Never heard of him,” says Finn.

  “Me neither.” I pause and blow air out through my mouth. “So you’ll make sure Rebecca gets here, yeah?”

  “Of course I will, Petal. I’ll see you soon.”

  We hang up and I return to the kitchen, which is now clear of furniture. Rita is kneeling on the floor, using a piece of black chalk to draw what looks like some kind of satanic Venn diagram on the lino. There are two pentagrams intertwined. Then she takes some red chalk and draws an inverted one in the middle.

  All of the ingredients are spread out beside the pentagrams. Included are four candles, three blue and one red, a bowl of green moss from the garden, a packet of matches, ice cubes, a bottle with what Rita claims is dragon blood (though I have my doubts about that), clove oil, a large bottle of vodka, cinnamon sticks and one short piece of rope. Either someone’s in for a wild night, or as Alvie likes to put it, we’re about to get our spells on.

  Just as everything’s assembled the front door opens, with Finn leading Pamphrock and Rebecca into the house. The moment Rebecca steps into the room Emilia’s eyes light up. The little girl is wearing a very fancy cream dress with a purple sash around the waist. On her feet are shiny black Mary Janes and her hair is in a French plait.

  “Oh, aren’t you just a little darling,” Emilia exclaims as she introduces herself to Rebecca. Pamphrock doesn’t express any surprise at finding her here, so I take it Finn filled him in. Emilia explains to him that she once had a daughter just like Rebecca and that she’d do anything to assist in his cause. This puts him more at ease, but I can tell he’s not too happy about Rita’s presence. Well, we need three people for the spell, so he can either like it or lump it. I have a feeling the only reason he’s agreed to all this is down to his desperation to keep his daughter safe.

  I watch Emilia interacting with Rebecca and I think I see her eyes glaze over a little. Is she upset? She turns away and dabs at her cheeks. When she catches me looking, she explains, “She’s just so much like Darya, so sheltered but so sweet. And she feels just like her too.”

  I take it she means “feel” in the magical sense, rather than the touching sense. I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. In a way it seems as though Emilia resents me for not being more dainty and innocent like Rebecca is, like my mother had been as a child. Well, she can fuck right off with that.

  Once she gathers her emotions, she returns her attention to Rebecca, cooing over her pretty dress and gorgeous blond hair. Now Emilia’s eyes gleam with some kind of maternal possessiveness. I have no clue what that’s all about.

  Suddenly Finn is at my side, studying the spell ingredients. “By the looks of it I don’t know whether you’re planning on casting a spell or setting up for a night of kink.”

  I elbow him in the side and gesture to Rebecca, whispering, “Shush.”

  Finn laughs. “She can’t hear me.”

  “Still, you shouldn’t be talking about that shit when there’s a kid in the room.”

  He leans in and tells me softly, “You shouldn’t be saying the word shit in front of her either, but we can punish each other later if you like.”

  “Maybe,” I whisper back with an evil grin.

  “Oh don’t torture me, Petal.”

&
nbsp; I smirk and turn to Rita, “You ready to get this show on the road?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  She begins lighting the candles as Emilia carefully guides Rebecca inside the red inverted pentagram.

  “I don’t like the look of those drawings on the floor,” Pamphrock comments. “If you three are up to something other than what you have told me there will be hell to pay.”

  “Calm down, Gov,” says Rita. “Pentagrams aren’t all about Satanism. You’ve been watching too many horror films.”

  “You will address me as Governor Pamphrock, witch,” he replies sternly.

  Rita makes an annoyed face and continues with the preparations. Emilia takes the rope and ties it around Rebecca’s wrists. I enter one of the outer black pentagrams and sit down.

  “Why does she need to be tied up?” Pamphrock questions.

  “It’s just a part of the ritual,” Emilia explains, leaving Rebecca to step back outside of the pentagram. She places both of her hands on Pamphrock’s shoulders and looks deeply into his eyes. He seems momentarily taken aback by her proximity and she manages to charm him. “Do not worry on anything you see here. Once it is done your daughter will be safe and her blood will be all but non-existent to anyone who sees fit to do her harm.”

  Pamphrock blinks and visibly calms at Emilia’s touch. “I understand. I just worry for my daughter’s safety. All of this is unknown to me.” He gestures at the set-up on the floor.

  Emilia lets her hands fall to Pamphrock’s biceps now. “Do you trust us?” she asks in a sultry voice.

  “I do,” he swallows. Ugh God, is my granny playing the seductress here? The sooner this is over and done with the better.

  I look at him now and hold out my hand. “Do you have the blood?”

  Even though Rebecca’s mother’s blood isn’t required for the spell we’re casting, we’ve modified it a little. Using her blood will strengthen the results, making them harder to break.

  He steps past Emilia and reaches inside his coat, retrieving a glass vial half filled with red liquid.

  “Thank you,” I say, taking it from him and handing it to Rita.

  Emilia steps back inside the circle and we all sit. I made sure to leave the back door open, so there’s a light breeze flowing into the room. Rita places a large spell bowl in front of her and begins throwing in the ingredients. First in is the moss, then the bottle of dragon blood (I’m not rolling my eyes, I promise), next are the cinnamon sticks, which she breaks up in her hands and crumbles into the bowl, and then she pours in just three drops of clove oil. In following with how we planned the spell earlier, we each take one of the now half melted ice cubes, lick them and throw them into the bowl in unison.

  Rita uncaps the vial of Felicity’s blood and pours the whole thing in, before swiftly grabbing the bottle of vodka and emptying it into the bowl. She picks up the packet of matches, lights one up, flicks in it and the concoction lights up into multicoloured flames. The air in the room thickens with what I have come to recognise as magic in the atmosphere.

  Rita, Emilia and I take each other’s hands and begin the chant that we all learned off by heart earlier.

  “Earth, Wind, Fire and Water, Nature, Ice and Creatures of Myth, lend unto us your power. Give us your strength and protect this child. By saying your names, so it is done.”

  The colourful flames burn higher and Rebecca cries out a little as the rope around her wrists tightens. The tightening only lasts for a second before the knot miraculously unties itself and her hands fall free. An unnaturally strong wind blows into the room, putting out the fire in the bowl and the spell is complete.

  Silence fills the space.

  “Is that it? Is it done?” Pamphrock asks with urgency.

  Emilia turns to him, smiling, but for some reason I get the feeling it’s a fake smile. One she’s practised for many years. “It is done, Governor. Your daughter is safe now.”

  Not seeing why she would be smiling at him falsely, I brush off the suspicion.

  Pamphrock rushes to Rebecca’s side and lifts her into his arms. “My God,” he exclaims. “It’s true, the spell really worked.” He takes a deep breath. “She smells different now, she smells just like you, Tegan.”

  He puts Rebecca down and approaches me, pulling me up by the hand and taking me into his embrace. “I don’t know how to thank you,” he says. His words are so grateful. I feel like saying it was nothing, because when it came down it it wasn’t that hard to do, but obviously the spell means everything to him.

  “I’m just glad to be of help,” I say to him, catching Finn standing by the counter and smiling at me. He must know how awkward I am receiving praise.

  Pamphrock turns to thank Rita, and I stay caught up in Finn’s stare. The happiness is short lived though, because a minute later Rebecca lets out a desperate cry, “Daddy!”

  We all turn around to find that while we weren’t paying attention, Emilia had taken the rope we used in the spell, cut it into two and used it to tie up Rebecca’s hands and feet. She doesn’t look like a particularly strong woman, yet she’s got Rebecca thrown over her shoulder like she weighs nothing.

  She holds a squirming Rebecca in place with one hand, while raising the other up to us. The electrical fire that is just like mine spills out, holding us all at bay.

  “Emilia Petrovsky! What do you think you’re doing?” Pamphrock demands in anger.

  Rita uses both of her hands to throw some kind of ray of light at Emilia, but she keeps it from touching her by flinging a bunch of sparks that disintegrate the light on contact.

  “I’m taking the child. You don’t deserve her,” Emilia spits, her face contorted with desperation.

  “She doesn’t belong to you, hand her back,” says Pamphrock, making a clear effort to stay calm. When he tries to step forward, Emilia burns him with her sparks and he flinches as they hit him in the face.

  “She’s my chance to make things right,” Emilia wails, tears suddenly streaming down her face. This is the point at which I get what’s happening. Emilia wants to take Rebecca and keep her as a daughter because her real daughter ran away all those years ago.

  “She’s not yours,” I shout, leaping into action and throwing my sparks at her. Unfortunately, since we both possess the same method of defence, we seem to cancel one another out. Neither of us is able to throw the other off.

  Her body begins to spin in a circle, as she rapidly mutters a spell. The sparks spread out around her and Rebecca, like a mini tornado. It forms into a spinning, glittering shield and it’s clear that there’s no getting past it. The force of it in the small room causes us all to fall to the floor. I blink my eyes after the fall, trying to find my bearings, and I look up just in time to see Emilia spinning out the back door, both her and Rebecca still contained within the sparks.

  Chapter Twelve

  You’ve Dug This Grave For Months, I’m Just Giving You A Little Shove

  The moment she’s gone all the doors and windows slam shut. Finn and Pamphrock jump up and try to get the back door open, but it won’t budge. Rita mutters a spell to try and release the locks on the windows, but they aren’t budging either. We push and shove, trying to get out of the room and go after Emilia, but we’re locked in tight.

  “She’s locked us in,” Rita exclaims, stating the obvious.

  Finn gives her a look. “If brains were dangerous you’d be the only one safe.”

  “Piss off.”

  “Quit squabbling!” Pamphrock commands. “We need to find a way out of here.”

  He pulls his mobile phone from his pocket, hitting a number on speed dial. By the sounds of it whoever he calls doesn’t answer. He hits another number and this time someone does answer, so he begins giving orders down the line, explaining what happened and telling the person on the other end to get a squad of slayers to Finn’s street immediately.

  Finn picks up the toaster and throws it at the window, but instead of smashing the glass it bounces right off
it like rubber.

  Rita starts trying a whole range of spells, but none of them work. Pamphrock’s angry eyes cut into me. “You should never have involved that woman. She is a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

  “I know and I’m so fucking sorry, believe me, but you need to calm down. I don’t think Emilia wants to harm Rebecca. She’s clearly just infatuated with her. Her daughter ran away when she was a teenager and now Emilia wants a second chance at motherhood. She’s taken Rebecca because she reminds her so much of her real daughter.”

  Pamphrock runs a hand over his face. He looks exhausted. “Fine. If that’s the case then she must have taken her to the Petrovsky manor. I’m going to send another squadron of men over there right away.” He begins hitting buttons on his phone and then he’s making more calls.

  About five minutes later there’s a DOH guy standing at the back door with a crowbar. The spell must only work from the inside, because he manages to break through within seconds. We all run out of the house and around to the front garden.

  There’s another slayer lying by the doorstep, unconscious. Emilia must have taken him down with a spell on her way out while he was standing guard.

  Pamphrock jumps into one of the two DOH vans that have just arrived, ordering, “We need to get to the Petrovsky manor as quickly as we can.”

  Having heard all of the commotion, Noreen, Alvie and Gabriel emerge from the RV, asking what’s going on. Across the street I see Ethan, Lucas and Delilah have come out also. It appears that Finn told Pamphrock about our vampire allies, because he doesn’t seem at all surprised to see them.

  I walk out onto the road, glancing back and forth, but it’s obvious that Emilia is long gone. The street Finn lives on consists of two parallel rows of houses that go on for nearly a mile. It’s dark out now, with the street lamps lighting up the area. As I stare into the distance, my eyes latch onto what looks like a bunch of people marching our way about a half a mile down the road. That’s when I realise we have a much more urgent matter on our hands than chasing after Emilia.