“Money,” I repeated.

  “Alright.” He pulled out a thick brown envelope and handed to me across the table. I peeked inside it. It looked like the right amount. I finished my tea and stood up.

  “If it’s short I’ll be in touch,” I said.

  “Is that it?” he asked, standing up. “No debrief?”

  “It’s dead. The town is safe. What more do you want?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, more pleasantries I guess. I thought after all this we could have some sort of business relationship in the future?” he spoke with the utmost sincerity.

  “Why would we need that? We’re done. You’ve got my number if you need my services in the future but frankly I hope we never meet again,” I told him. I tucked the envelope in my inside pocket.

  “That’s a shame I was hoping we could meet again in the future. I wouldn’t have minded if you brought your lady friend too. She has a nice rack on her. I tell you what I’d sell my wife for one night in between those globes. I could suck on those for—” I smacked him on his nose as hard as I could. He fell onto the seat, clutching at his bloody nose. “You broke my fucking nose!”

  Nobody in the pub even batted an eyelid at us. They knew to mind their own business and stay out of mine.

  “If you mention Ashley again I’ll fucking kill you,” I said and left. I don’t think he wanted to see me again after that.

  I went Ashley’s after a couple of days. I figured that’s long enough and I wanted to make sure she was okay. She’d seen me incinerate a room full of people and I needed to know how she’d taken that. Her dad, Pete, answered the door.

  “Go away,” he said flatly. It was clear he did not like me. I’ve got enough friends so it doesn’t matter.

  “I want to see Ashley,” I said.

  “She doesn’t want to see you.”

  “I’d rather hear that from her.”

  “If she wanted to see you she’d have done it by now. She’s in a right state because of you and I’m not letting you anywhere near her,” he said. He broadened his shoulders and made a show of blocking the doorway. He was only a little guy so I could easily push him aside and that was without magic. With magic I could probably roast him.

  “What’s your problem with me?” I said. Stupid question really.

  “My problem? Because of you my wife is dead!” he yelled. I had that coming. “Because of the nonsense you got my family involved in. I watched her die and I couldn’t go to her. I couldn’t tell her I love her. Couldn’t do anything to make it easier for her. She died on her own whilst three hundred people laughed their heads off.” He started to cry as he spoke and I took a step back. “My daughter had to watch it all too. To make it worse you let the woman who killed her live. You had the chance to kill her and you didn’t take it. And still Ashley helped you. She gave a false statement to the police. And so did I, for her, not you, by the way. So I think we’ve done enough for you now and no, I will not let you see my daughter. We’ve given enough and if you come to this house again—”

  “It’s okay, Dad,” Ashley said as she came down the stairs behind him. Her hair was a mess as if she’d just woken up and her eyes were red and puffy.

  “Ashley, go back upstairs. I’ll deal this,” Pete said. By “this” he meant me. I’d lost my status as a person in his eyes apparently.

  “Dad, go inside. I’m an adult I can deal with this myself.” Pete stared at her hard and then shot me a murderous look before storming back into the house. Ashley stepped out onto the front step and brought the door to behind her.

  “Ashley, I’m sorry. It’s—” She raised a hand stop me, biting her bottom lip.

  “Eddie, I don’t blame you.” Her words were more relief than I could have hoped for. I still blamed me, though. “My mum’s death was Rachel’s fault, not yours. But the rest…” She shook her head as she trailed off. “Over three-hundred people, Eddie. You killed them all.”

  “I didn’t mean it,” I said pathetically as if I’d called somebody naughty rather than committed mass-murder.

  “You’re cursed, I know. So I don’t blame you for that either. But you’re still dangerous.” She spoke her words softly.

  “I’m not. The darkness…” I tried to explain that the darkness wasn’t me.

  “Is part of you. I know it came from the curse and you don’t want it but it is a part of you. Maybe you can remove it, maybe you can’t, I don’t know. All I know is that while you have it inside you you’re dangerous. I don’t know when you might give into it and kill someone. Kill me.”

  “I’d never hurt you,” I said without a beat.

  “You wouldn’t. The darkness might.”

  “I can control it.”

  “You can’t. I’ve seen it take over, Eddie. And the scariest part is there’s no difference. When I looked at you being controlled by the darkness I couldn’t tell that it wasn’t you in control. And if I can’t tell then I can’t be safe around you. And I definitely can’t get close to you.”

  “Ashley, please. I can get rid of it,” I said.

  “I don’t think so. You’ve had it for thirteen years.”

  “People have been cursed for longer,” I argued.

  She gave me a weak smile and then surprised me with a hug. It wasn’t the sort of hug I’d have hoped for. It was more of a pity hug. Even so, I returned the gesture and took what I could get.

  “Goodbye, Eddie. Please, don’t come back.” Her voice was choked on the last. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and then returned inside, closing the door gently behind her. And that was the end of that.

  I walked away knowing that this time it really was finished. Any relationship we might have had was not going to happen. Rachel had ruined it. I had ruined it.

  I didn’t go to Margie’s funeral. It would have been inappropriate. I visited her grave afterwards and said my final goodbyes. I hope she went somewhere nice in her afterlife. She deserved it. But I have no idea what happens when we die.

  I suppose you’re wondering what I did with all the magic I took from Rachel. I didn’t return it to my unit that’s for sure. I didn’t keep it inside me either. I didn’t want to tempt myself. Power corrupts and all that. I kept some, just a little. The rest is hidden away and I’m not going to tell you where because that would be stupid. But if you’ve been paying attention you’ll probably be able to figure it out.

  Well, that’s that. I mean it this time, it really is the end. No tricks. The story is told. A bit of a happier ending than the false ending, eh? You’re probably expecting a big speech now about how upset I am that my romantic hopes with Ashley have been shot to smithereens. Or maybe about how hopeful I am that I can fix it. Maybe you want me to bleat on about how bad I feel for killing all those innocent people. Well, forget it.

  Dark Warlock

  Book 3

  1

  I could feel the ghost. It was in the room. The temperature had dropped ever so slightly and I could sense the presence of something not human. Not anymore anyway. Neither of the occupants were supernatural and apart from myself they were the only ones in the room. Nigel and Harriet Carson, the middle-aged residents of this quaint little house on the outskirts of Maidstone’s town centre, had hired me to resolve their ghost problem. Apparently it had been causing quite a rumpus. Their words not mine.

  “Listen,” I called to the ghost. “I’ve got all night and so have you, but I charge thirty quid an hour which means these two lovely people who own this house probably—”

  The crystal vase flew off the mantel and smashed against the far wall. Luckily it had been empty. Nigel shrieked and Harriet fixed him with a disapproving look.

  “Good, we’re getting somewhere,” I said to the air. “Why don’t you try using words?” I suggested.

  “This is all it ever does. For months now all it’s done is throw things around. So many of our things have been destroyed,” Harriet said. She was a stern woman with her grey hair pulled back into a tight bun. She reminded me of a mean headmistress.

  “That’s unfortunate,” I said. Ghosts, or as this particular spirit was more commonly known: poltergeists, often resorted to throwing things around in frustration. They grew frustrated with being unable to materialise and communicate properly. Crossing from the spirit world isn’t easy. Those who fail sometimes try to force their way back and the result is usually getting stuck halfway. I suspected that that was the case here.

  I looked at my watch. I’d been here for an hour and a half. That was sixty quid plus the two-hundred for resolving the issue. I could drag it out longer but I couldn’t really be bothered. Besides, who knew how long it would take to wrap things up anyway.

  “Ghost!” I called out. “I’m going to pull you through to the living realm. This might feel weird, I don’t know it’s never happened to me. Also it might go wrong because I’m a tad out of practice. By out of practice I mean I’ve never done it before but I have seen it done and I know how to do it. I think. Just bear with me.”

  The temperature suddenly plummeted and I heard a voice behind me. “There’s no need for that.”

  I turned casually, trying to hide my surprise and looked at the dead woman behind me. Ghosts can appear in a variety of forms but most commonly they look like faded versions of themselves. To the untrained eye they don’t look any different than regular living people. My eyes are trained though. This particular ghost was a young woman, no older than thirty. Her hair was long and brown and she had a triangular face with dark glaring eyes.

  Nigel gasped again and the ghost gave him a dirty look.

  “So you were choosing not to materialise,” I said accusatorially.

  “Obviously.”

  “All these months you could have appeared like this and talked to these guys but instead you chose to throw their belongings around and harass them. Why?” I asked with genuine curiosity.

  “Because I don’t like them,” she snapped.

  “The feeling is more than mutual,” Harriet hissed.

  “No, Harriet, don’t antagonise it,” Nigel muttered.

  “It?” the girl demanded rounding on Nigel.

  Nigel opened his mouth and little squeak of fright popped out. How pathetic.

  “Don’t you get confrontational with my husband you unchristian beast,” Harriet said in a strict tone. If she thought the ghost was unchristian I wondered what she thought of me?

  “Unchristian?” the ghost-woman smirked. “I’ve seen what you two get up to in the bedroom and it is anything but christian.” Both Harriet and Nigel blushed and looked away awkwardly.

  “Well, I think I’ve heard enough of that,” I said. “Why don’t you tell us your name?”

  The ghost-woman looked at me dubiously, her arms crossed defensively over her chest. “Amber,” she said quietly.

  “Okay, Amber, let’s sit down and try to resolve this matter.” I sat down in one of the armchairs. I had to move some of the many cushions that had been piled into it before it was anywhere close to comfortable. “Come on.” I gestured for the others to sit with me. Nigel and Harriet sat down together on the sofa. Their postures mirrored one another’s. Both sat rigidly, their legs pinned together and their hands clamped in their laps.

  “Really?” said Amber, one eyebrow raised. Judging by her attitude and mannerisms I deduced that she was a fairly modern ghost. She sighed and then fell lazy into the armchair to my left. It put her opposite the Carsons.

  “We need to find a way to resolve this—”

  “Just get that thing out of my house. There’s no need to talk to it!” Harriet interrupted petulantly.

  “Thing? It?” Amber roared. “This is my house!” The ashtray on the coffee table shattered when she shouted, causing Nigel to jump in his seat.

  “Let’s all try to stay calm,” I said. “Less things will get broken. I think the problem is clear here.”

  “This my house and those trespassers keep moving my things around,” Amber said quietly, trying to remain calm. I saw that Harriet was about to argue and put my palm up to stop her. She sat mouth open and staring.

  “Your things?” I asked.

  “Some of the rooms were furnished when we bought the place,” Nigel informed me. “They were included in the sale and therefore are now our things.” He risked a sideways glance at Amber and looked quickly away regretting his decision.

  “When did you buy the place?” I asked.

  “A couple of months ago,” said he.

  “Amber when did you die?” I didn’t think about how insensitive my question might be but she didn’t seem to mind. I often don’t think about how insensitive I’m being; if I did I’d speak a lot less regularly.

  “About six months ago.”

  “You used to own this house I take it?”

  She nodded. “Died upstairs.”

  “Oh sweet Jesus,” Harriet said under her breath.

  “You shouldn’t blaspheme,” Nigel muttered.

  “Shut up, Nigel,” she hissed. “They didn’t mention that when we bought the place. They have to mention that kind of thing don’t they? If there’s a death.”

  “I think it’s only if it was a murder,” I said, although I wasn’t sure. I’m a warlock not an estate agent.

  “I was murdered,” Amber said and Harriet blasphemed again.

  “We’re a little off topic and I have other things to do tonight,” I told them.

  “We are paying you,’ Nigel said feebly.

  “Shut up, Nigel. Let him work,” said Harriet.

  “How were you murdered?” I asked. My curiosity always gets the better of me.

  “Can we get on with this?” she said irritably.

  Since she clearly wasn’t going to answer my question I did as she said and got on with it. “The three of you are in this house and the way I see it you all have a legal claim to it.”

  “The dead cannot claim anything legally,” said Nigel.

  “Shut up, Nigel,“ Amber said. I was starting to get sick of hearing that phrase.

  “That is only because this is unprecedented,” I said. “I think the best solution is for you all to live peacefully together.”

  “I think the best solution is for you to send her back to where her kind belong,” Harriet said throwing a dirty look Amber’s way.

  “I could send you there if you like,” I warned. Harriet’s mouth dropped open and she looked away. I tend to try not to threaten my clients but sometimes they really piss me off.

  “I don’t want to live with them,” Amber said indignantly.

  “The alternative is for you to move,” I told her. “And we both know there’s only one place for you to go.” Ghosts are stuck in the places they died. That meant Amber’s choice was stay in the house or pass over to the land of the dead.

  “I don’t want that either,” she said.

  “Those are your options. You can either all live together or you can move on. Your choice.”

  “We can’t afford to move again. All our savings went into this house,” Nigel said.

  “So did mine,” replied Amber.

  “You have to stop breaking our things!” Harriet shouted out of nowhere. Even I jumped a little.

  “You have to stop moving mine then!” Amber shouted back and the coffee table moved ever so slightly.

  “How many bedrooms are upstairs?” I said, raising my own voice over theirs.

  “Three,” they all answered in unison.

  “Amber will take one room. The other two are yours. The downstairs will be shared. I assume you don’t need a bathroom?” I asked, looking at Amber. She shook her head. “That is the agreement so agree to it now.”

  “I…” Harriet said in shock. I glared at her before she could protest further.

  “I agree,” Amber said calmly. “As long as my things don’t get moved.”

  “Keep them in your room then,” Harriet said glumly.

  “Is that your agreement?” I asked.

  “What choice do I have?”

  I ignored her moaning and turned to the final person. “Nigel?”

  “Yes, I suppose so,” He said slowly, clearly resigned to the matter.

  “Good, then it’s settled.” I stood up and they all stood with me. “Now, if you’ll just pay me.”

  “You expect us to pay you for that?” Harriet said. “The ghost is still here!”

  “You asked me to resolve your problem not remove your ghost. Your problem is resolved. Now pay me or you’ll have a problem of an entirely different nature on your hands,” I warned.

  “Don’t you threaten me you… you… fraud!” she said in a shrilly voice.

  That was it. I snapped. With one sharp gesture the coffee table smashed against the nearby wall. A second motion had Harriet sliding across the carpet where she too met the wall. My magic pinned her against it, holding her against her will. Her anger turned to fear rather quickly. Her eyes were wide, nostrils flared, deep ragged breaths coming from her mouth.

  “Fraud? You think I’m a fraud. I am anything but. I said I was a warlock. As you can see I am a warlock. I said I would resolve your issue. I have resolved your issue.” The lights flickered above me as I slowly crossed the room towards her. “You promised payment. Two-hundred and sixty pounds. Are you now refusing that payment?” I stopped in front of her, my face inches from hers.

  “Nigel, pay the man,” she said. Her voice was choked, on the verge of tears. I remained totally still, staring at her in silent anger whilst Nigel went to retrieve the money. When he returned I held one palm out and watched out of the corner of my eye as he counted it out all in twenty-pound notes. When he was done I tucked it into my inside pocket and then took a step back. Harriet fell to her knees sobbing. I felt no pity. No remorse. If anything I wanted to hurt her more. I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to my forehead, trying to force my anger back. After a few seconds it worked and I felt a small amount calmer.

  “Pleasure doing business,” I mumbled as I headed for the door.

  “D… do… don’t you come back here,” Nigel called after me in the meekest voice I had ever heard. For him it was about as courageous as he could muster.

 

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