Contents ( 25)
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty Two
- Epilogue
- About the Author
- Other titles by Helen Harper
‘He’s not my boyfriend.’
Winter met my eyes. ‘I know.’
From outside the trailer there was a sudden scratching sound. I leapt half out of my skin. Winter, almost as alarmed as I was, opened the window and peered down. A heartbeat later, Brutus jumped inside. When he saw me, I like to think that he relaxed slightly.
‘Good?’ he enquired.
I gave him a small smile. ‘Good.’
His tail went up and he sauntered over, rubbing his head against my legs. ‘Good.’ There was a pause. ‘Food?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘No.’ I glanced at both Brutus and Winter. ‘So we still have a necromancer to find. What about Bellows?’
Winter’s mouth flattened into a grim line. ‘He’s being questioned as we speak. So far I don’t believe he’s admitted to anything. He’s a bastard, to be sure but I don’t think he has the power to pull off raising the dead.’
I sighed. ‘No. Neither do I.’
Brutus raised his head. A moment later there was knock on the partition wall and the Ipsissimus stuck his head round, a tentative smile on his face. ‘How’s the patient?’
Somewhat taken aback that the Order Head had made the journey all the way up here, I stared at him dumbly for a second before answering. ‘Er … good. I’m okay.’
‘Pleased to hear it. You had us worried there for a second.’
I eyed him sceptically. Was that worry because I’d been knocked out by his own witches and he was concerned about the ramifications? After all, the whole episode had probably been caught on camera.
‘I won’t press charges,’ I said, only half-jokingly.
The Ipsissimus’s smile grew then he glanced at Winter. ‘Perhaps you should go and check on Morris Armstrong. He seems convinced that the show can still go on.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘Obviously that’s ridiculous.’
‘I think someone else can handle Armstrong,’ Winter replied. ‘I’ll stay here and make sure Ivy’s alright.’
‘I’m alright,’ I protested. ‘I keep telling you.’
‘Go and speak to him,’ the Ipsissimus repeated, this time in a firmer tone of voice that clearly brooked no argument.
I thought that Winter was still preparing to refuse him and I doubted that would go down well on his CV. There really was no need for him to stay around, as much as I wanted him to. I reached out and touched his arm. ‘It’s fine, Rafe. Go.’
Winter gazed at me for a long moment before eventually nodding, albeit with considerable reluctance. He hesitated then dipped his head, his lips brushing against mine. ‘Don’t do anything foolish, Ivy.’
I tilted my head up and kissed him back with more feeling. Winter’s mouth opened in surprise and I took full advantage as the pain still running through my body was replaced by a different kind of ache. He tasted of minty toothpaste and masculinity. Yeah, I knew how ridiculous that sounded, but as my senses swam I had no other words to describe it.