Water, p.9
Water, page 9
“Has anyone called the police?” I asked. From the reactions, I realized it was the wrong thing to say.
Everyone stared at me in silence and exchanged glances before anyone answered.
“No,” Emma answered. “It was up to them, and they didn’t want to because they all just wanted to get home and weren’t sure a crime had been committed. They couldn’t remember.” She looked at her mother.
“The lines look like old injuries that are healing, but the thing is, they’re so faint they’re almost gone. It’s not as if they could go to the police and say someone inflicted those marks on them last night. So, even though we’ve no idea what happened, with all the vampire activity in Stoke Newington yesterday, we wondered if this were something they’d do? Is it the work of vampires?”
Everyone looked at Beck, waiting for an answer. I looked at him too. Though he was under everyone’s gaze, he sat perfectly still and appeared calm. He wasn’t, and I couldn’t explain how I knew.
A man who’d been slouched against the wall stepped forward, straightening himself out. “If these people were subject to the vampire’s compulsion all night, that would be why they woke up in a daze at dawn, not remembering what had happened to them. Isn’t that right, Beck?”
“Yes, Frank, it might explain something.”
Frank continued. “These fast healing cuts, is that something vampires do?”
When I’d witnessed Varu biting Beck’s neck with those sharp fangs, I’d expected to see blood and puncture wounds like you did in horror films, but I saw no marks at all, not even faint fast-healing ones.
“I’m not a vampire expert, but I can ask Varu about it when it’s nightfall,” Beck replied.
The atmosphere in the room changed. It was as if everyone simultaneously held their breaths and took a slight step backward at the suggestion of speaking to a vampire. Perhaps they all shared Haydn’s suspicion and antagonism towards Varu and other vampires.
I might be biased, but I couldn’t see why.
“So, it’s true? Haydn said you understand vampires better than any of us,” Emma said. “This morning, he told us you speak to Vasile, which surprised me. I thought none of us spoke to him.”
Apparently, Beck’s neighbors were ignorant of his ‘friendship’ with Varu.
“Serina Selby used to be a friend of the vampire,” Rose patted Beck on the shoulder. “And she was an excellent judge of character.”
“Where are the three people now? Can we see the marks?” I asked, more to save Beck than because I wanted to meet yet more strangers.
“We sent them all home for now, but what about nightfall? Now, I wonder whether it’s safe for him to be at home.” Emma’s fingers were on her lips, and she seemed ready to nibble her nails.
They all peered at me as if it were my fault.
I wondered what Haydn had told them. I wanted to say hey, I didn’t bring the vampires here. I’m innocent in all this.
“It’ll be fine. He’s safe in daylight,” said Beck. I detected the uncertainty in his voice.
“But what about when it gets dark? Will the vampires take him again?”
“You should invite him to stay here for the night, where our magic protects him.”
“Beck!” An attractive lady appeared at the doorway—she looked and sounded similar to Emma. “I heard you were here. I’ve got news to share.”
“Amber, calm down and come and meet Malka,” said Rose. “Amber is my other daughter, Emma’s twin sister.”
“Older sister,” she protested. “And you’ll want to hear this. We’ve got a booking for the bed-and-breakfast.”
“Amber does the internet,” Rose addressed the comment to me. “She manages the website for the house rental business.”
In the last twenty-four hours, I’d discovered witches and vampires were real, and that my family owned lots of property, and while my mom was in prison for mass murder, witches ran a business renting out the properties. It was a lot to take on board.
“Beck will be too busy to do the cleaning today, Amber; we’ll get someone else to take care of it,” Rose said.
“I just thought you should be aware they want to book every available room from today going forward in the names of Lock and Smith.”
As gasps of surprise circled the room, I wondered what was going on and whether I’d stepped into an alternate dimension where everything was overly dramatic and comedic. Oh, and where a witch who had the physique of a god and power over water also doubled up as a hotel cleaner, by the sounds of it.
“Lock-Smith booked the rooms?” I had to ask.
A locksmith, for real?
Amber looked at me as if I was the crazy one. “It seems the entire council and entourage are coming, and they’ve booked the rooms in the names of Lock and Smith for an indefinitely lengthy stay.”
How was I supposed to know Lock and Smith were the last names of members of the scary-sounding Supreme Council that they had warned me about?
And for that matter, it wasn’t the first time that I thought the witches on the council should reconsider their names.
A legal name change didn’t cost much; I remember one teacher at school doing it after her father was convicted of a particularly nasty crime. She said she didn’t want to carry his name, which was a fraudulent moniker both in her case and his. Her old last name was Wiseman.
“Let’s stay calm, everyone,” Rose said. Whatever her magical ability, it seemed she was the chief matriarch around here, and every time she spoke, her words soothed. “The council has booked the rooms so nobody else can, but they are unlikely to arrive today because the journey is too great, and I doubt if they will arrive at night because of the vampires. We might expect them tomorrow or, more likely, the day after. As for the long stay, perhaps we can take that as an excellent sign that they will assess Malka here among her coven rather than take her away from us.”
“I don’t like the sound of it,” grumbled a voice from the wall.
“Me neither, not one bit,” said Tu, which allowed me to turn and look at her. She had slightly tanned flawless skin, dark eyes, and a beautiful voice. “I don’t want them to take Malka, but if they stay here, it means they’re assessing all of us.” That was when I noticed her earring. It was identical to Haydn’s, the one that bore the Selby emblem of the willow tree and the star shape.
Murmurs of agreement went around the room, and I tore my gaze from her.
Again, I had the urge to stand up and declare: sorry, not sorry. None of this was my fault, but I sort of felt like it was.
Before the room fell silent, someone else said, “I don’t understand why they booked through the website instead of contacting us in the normal way.”
“What is the normal way?” I whispered, not expecting an answer.
“Via air,” Tu whispered back but didn’t elaborate as if the answer was obvious. I thought back to Chet listening to distant sounds.
“They’re too far away. Air isn’t a reliable means of communication over such a substantial distance, and they needed to inform us that they’ll be here soon. Doing it this way, they have our attention, and a guarantee that they’ve booked all our rooms,” Amber answered, still standing in the doorway.
“You’re saying air aren’t necessarily always on call.” I laughed at my joke, which it seemed no one else found funny. They didn’t get it. Or didn’t get me. Sorry, not sorry for that, too.
Rose stepped forward to retake control. “Beck, you need to prepare Malka for inspection. We’ll take care of getting the rooms ready. And if you can find out anything from the vampire about injuries to the three people, we’d appreciate it.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
No billowing black smoke without a flaming fire
Beck Colborn
WE TURNED RIGHT AT the end of Summer House Road.
“There’s an entrance to the park just along here,” I said, to focus her attention on our next destination and not on where we’d just been. I didn’t want to discuss a lot of the things that had come up in Rose’s house.
Within less than twenty-four hours, Malka had learned more about me than those people, even though they were supposedly like my new extended family.
Our hands brushed against each other as we walked, and I’d prefer to focus on how even the slightest contact with her made me feel like a teenager with my first crush.
It was ridiculous. I wasn’t a kid but an adult, and she wasn’t my first crush or my first love. And I could do without those confusing feelings.
My first crush had been on a boy at school. He was a couple of years older than me. Then I noticed lots of boys. My first date and my first kiss were both with a girl. The same girl. I’d only ever had one girlfriend, and that was when I was sixteen. After that, it was all guys for me, but I always found women attractive too.
Living with Haydn, my life was already complicated enough without adding a third person to the list of people to fall in love with.
Not that I was in love with Malka, not yet. It wasn’t love at first sight, but the potential for love was there. She had charisma, and I could imagine falling in love with her. I suspected it might be impossible to know her better and not fall in love with her.
It was also impossible to untangle how I, as a man, felt about her independent of how our abilities intertwined. I wasn’t sure at first, but after opening the amulet box, it became evident something was going on between us at the level of our elemental magic.
“In the park, I’ll show you mine, and you can show me yours.” I winked. “Magic, I mean, of course.”
When we first met in Varu’s house, she wasn’t what I expected. She bowled me over. I tried to stay cool.
I’d been tense, but she threw me off my game, and I must have come across like a bumbling fool.
I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t think straight. I was so much taken by surprise that my brain was frazzled.
I lost the ability to speak or communicate, or react.
I was so utterly unprepared to meet Malka as she truly was, rather than the woman I expected her to be.
I didn’t expect to be attracted to her.
I didn’t even expect to like her.
I’d built up increasing resentment toward the absent daughter of the former High Priestess because of the bond she had with Haydn.
I’d spent years resenting what Malka stood for.
The girl bonded to the man I loved.
The privileged girl who stood to inherit the vast wealth of the Selby estate.
The girl who didn’t need to work for one day in her life.
The daughter to the High Priestess who would never worry about where she’d lived.
A witch who came from a wealthy line of witches and owned half of Stoke Newington when ordinary people struggled to get a foot on the bottom rung of the property ladder.
And once I’d met her, I liked her; I wanted to hang out with her. She’d shattered all my preconceptions.
She was modestly unaware of her fortune and power. She didn’t seem to want it. She didn’t even want Haydn, which I found hilarious because the bond should have ensured it and everyone expected it. Malka defied expectations in every way.
On Church Street, Malka looked about with interest. She hadn’t visited this area since she was a little girl. Victorian townhouses, some with shopfronts on the ground floor, stood to our left, on the other side of the road. They looked a little down at heel, but evidence of their former elegance remained in the brickwork’s detail. They would have been grand back in the day.
Today they showed all the signs of their age.
Plenty were adorned with black, orange and white Halloween decorations, the celebration being in a few days’ time.
“I’m intrigued to find out what we will do next. I’m in no hurry to fall back through the ground and land in Varu’s basement for a second time.”
“That’s not gonna happen. I intend to hold on to you so that if you disappear, you’ll at least take me with you.” I threaded my fingers between hers; she didn’t object, so we continued forward hand in hand like a boyfriend-girlfriend couple.
“Have you traveled through the earth before? It’s vile. It’s not something anyone would choose to do.”
Through our point of contact, I detected her shudder. It was hard for me to understand because I was always most happy when submerged in water. “Strangely enough, I have, and it wasn’t so unpleasant. Varu has taken me. It’s not something I’m able to do on my own.”
When we crossed over Fleetwood Road, the modern fire station on our right stood out at odds with all the older buildings in the area. Malka barely glanced at it but continued to look at the old buildings across the road.
“Perhaps it gets easier?” she sounded doubtful. “From what happened in that house back there, I guess they don’t know about you and Varu. I must say, I was surprised they didn’t know him better as they live on the same street as him, and he protects the whole area.”
“You’ve noticed that he protects us?”
“Of course I’ve noticed.”
“Interesting. Funny how you can see that when you arrived less than twenty-four hours ago. Most witches don’t understand. They never attempted to find out about him and his history, how he came to live so close to us. They fear what they don’t understand.”
“Fears arise from ignorance. And why don’t they know about you and him? How is that kept a secret when you all live so close?”
“When I arrived on the street, I got along well with Varu before I discovered vampires and witches aren’t supposed to mix. I slowly learnt about the prejudices, but I didn’t speak out and rock the boat since I’m the newcomer to the street. I guess it’s cowardly. I should speak up now, but I’m caught up in my web of silence. I just don’t share their anti-vampire prejudice.”
“It’s not an anti-gay thing then? Homophobia isn’t rife among witches?” she asked.
At this, I had to laugh. “Oh no. As a teenager in the mundane world, I wasn’t sure who was safe to tell and if I’d be beaten up because I didn’t fit in. I grew up being told that I’d find a girlfriend, settle down, get married. When I moved to London, it was refreshingly different. And when I met Varu and Haydn, I discovered communities where ideas around gender and sexuality aren’t so rigid. Among vampires and witches, bisexuality is common, and it isn’t an issue.”
“They’re open-minded in some ways and closed-minded about other things,” she said astutely.
“True. They wouldn’t care if I had multiple relationships with men and women.” I pulled her to a standstill in the street, so she had to turn and look at me. “If they found out I slept with a vampire and let him drink from me, they’d be shocked and appalled. Please don’t tell them, Malka. Only you and Haydn know.”
Malka looked as if she was about to say something else (as always) when her eyes fixed on some distance beyond me. “Beck. There’s fire.”
I turned, expecting to see Haydn. I didn’t expect to see the billowing black smoke seeping from the upper windows of one house across the road, and people huddled on the street outside. Small people. Children.
“Come on.” Still holding Malka’s hand, I gave it a tug, almost dragging her along as I rushed toward the burning building. “No, no, no,” I muttered under my breath as I identified which house was on fire, and I recognized the family standing outside.
“Merhaba, Esma.” I greeted the Turkish woman in her own language and let go of Malka to place a hand over Esma’s hand, the one holding a phone. “Is anybody else in there?”
“Only on the top floor. I couldn’t go up there. I had to get the children out.” She looked flustered, bewildered, and her eyes filled with tears. “The kitchen’s on fire. And Yusuf is in the attic. I yelled, but he didn’t respond.”
“Give me a minute, Esma. Then make the call.” My mind raced as I covered the few feet toward the door. I shouldn’t leave Malka alone. But I couldn’t take her with me. And I couldn’t do what I needed to from outside. I wouldn’t leave Yusuf upstairs to a certain fate when I might save him.
Esma was also distraught. Holding herself together for the children, she was also in a state of shock.
“Wait here, Malka.”
The door opened to a narrow corridor that led only to a steep set of stairs. There was no source of natural light in the stairwell, which was filled with smoke. I took a massive gulp of air; holding my breath for ages came easily to me, and I guessed this would be no different. I charged up the stairs two at a time and soon heard footsteps behind me.
Don’t let it be the fire brigade, not so soon.
Any have-a-go hero may have thoughtlessly followed me inside the building without knowing that I had a certain ability that would keep me safe in a burning building.
It might have been Haydn.
He had been in the area the morning and might still be on Church Street somewhere nearby. Haydn had the ability to control the fire if he chose. He might have followed me in to help end it. I shuddered to think he might have started it. I refused to believe it.
There wasn’t time to stop and think. Just to act.
I couldn’t prevent someone from following me, but I’d have to keep them safe as well.
Up the first flight of stairs, flames licked the walls in the first set of rooms we came to.
I stopped at the door, ripped off my hoodie, and wrapped the thick fabric around my fingers to protect them from the scorching heat. I pulled the door shut just as a coughing, spluttering Malka crashed into me.
Containing the fire behind those doors wouldn’t help much. Smoke already filled the building. I lifted her in my arms and raced up to the next level, where the smoke was just as dense. It stung my eyes and clung to my skin like ghostly claws.
I wanted to take a breath, and I was damned sure Malka needed to.
I carried her into the tiny bathroom on the next floor up and shut the door behind us. I turned to the sash window, noting its broken throw-bolt. I shoved the window up, but it only rose a couple of inches before jamming. Malka leaned forward with her nose against the wooden frame as she tried to drink in some fresh air through the narrow crack. I gave the window a second hard shove. It didn’t budge. At the third go, it flew up, wide open.
