Winter started searching through the rest of the collection. ‘Maybe there’s enough of Blackbeard’s null nature lingering here to hold the ghosts at bay. Or maybe he’s taken them with him. We have to check, though.’ His eyes met mine. ‘Their ashes are all the evidence we need against him.’
You could take the witch out of the Order but you couldn’t take the Order out of the witch. He was still thinking like an Arcane Branch officer. The truth was that we already knew Blackbeard was guilty and finding the rest of the coven’s remains would prove nothing. It would, however, give their families some small comfort. All the same, Winter still desperately wanted to do things by the book; he really was as orderly as the Order itself. I hoped he realised sooner rather than later that he belonged with them as much as he belonged with me.
I stepped back to give him more room, inadvertently knocking over one of the book piles as I did so. I was about to kick them out of the way but one of the titles caught my eye. I knelt down and examined it. Well, that answered one question.
‘Check this out,’ I said. ‘It’s a book on pagan black spots and their potential effects. It’s got to be at least a hundred years old.’ I flicked through the pages. ‘And there’s a bookmark in the section on Wistman’s Wood.’
Winter gave me a grim look. ‘He’s planned everything from the get go, hasn’t he?’
I bit my lip. ‘There’s a second bookmark.’ I turned the pages, sucking in a breath when I scanned through the text. ‘Uffington White Horse. That’s less than an hour away from Oxford.’
‘It’s the gigantic horse shape cut into the hillside. Is that pagan?’ Winter asked. ‘I thought it was just an Anglo-Saxon emblem commemorating a battle.’
‘No one knows for sure. But it does say here that nearby is the spot where St George apparently killed the dragon. There’s a bald patch where the dragon’s blood was spilt. It’s said that nothing can ever grow there.’
‘Sounds pretty damned mystical to me,’ he said. ‘Just like Wistman’s Wood.’
‘Yeah.’ I met his eyes. ‘It can’t be a coincidence that he’s made a note of this place. It’s so close to Oxford and the Order headquarters.’
‘Look through the other books. Maybe we can get more clues about what he’s planning.’
I nodded and started to crouch down. I was halfway to the floor, however, when my legs gave way completely and I ended up sprawled on my arse. Winter opened his mouth to say something and was forestalled by several loud shouts coming from further back in Blackbeard’s flat.
‘It took the cavalry less time than I expected to make this connection,’ Winter muttered.
‘Blackbeard’s dad was probably worried about his son,’ I said. ‘Either that or he suspects him. His own flesh and blood is a mass murderer – he must have some inkling about his son’s true nature. Maybe that’s why he really hired the security guard.’
Winter nodded and walked to the door, his palms splayed outwards to indicate he was unarmed. Unfortunately it didn’t seem to do much good; he was immediately body-slammed backwards.
‘Hey!’ I protested. Before I could get to my feet, however, a blank-faced, armed police officer waved a gun in my face.
‘Stay down,’ he snarled.
‘But…’
‘Secure the area!’ He made some complicated gesture with his hands; if he’d been a witch, they would have conjured up an effective rune. Instead of a spell, however, another suited and booted officer appeared, yelling for me to lie face down on the ground. For a split second I was tempted to cast a spell and get rid of this lot but I knew that it was probably wiser to cooperate. That was a very big gun and I’d already been in one more fight tonight than I’d planned. There are only so many times a girl can get knocked out before she ends up back in hospital. Right now I didn’t have time for that, which was a shame because hospital beds were pretty darned comfy.
There was the crunch of glass as several more officers stormed the area. Actually, forget about Blackbeard’s father; this was down to breaking the mirror. Seven years’ bad luck, I thought morosely. Starting right here.
We might still be in middle England but these officers were a lot warier and better trained than their counterparts at the crematorium. The first thing they did was to bind Winter’s and my hands behind our backs with clever knotting that prevented our fingers from moving. Even most witches weren’t that canny. I stopped admiring them when they yanked me sharply to my feet and all but dragged me back into Blackbeard’s living room and flung me on his sofa. Down. Up. Down. I wasn’t a yo-yo. They ought to make up their minds.
There was the faint ping of the lift opening followed by the most godawful yowling and screeching. It got louder and louder until three red-robed Arcane Branch witches appeared with Brutus in a cage.
‘We have secured the familiar,’ the nearest one said. This was followed by a nervous glance towards Winter, who’d been dragged over next to me. He might be tied up for the second time tonight but these witches were still scared of him. We could work with that.
Winter had obviously had the same thought. ‘Adeptus Minor Green,’ he said, in his best shiver-inducing voice. ‘Ms Wilde and I are both here for the same reason as you – to track down the killer of the Dorset coven. This is his place of residence. We entered it expecting that—’
‘Shut up.’ Despite his harsh command, Green’s voice still quavered. It didn’t help that Brutus was throwing himself against the bars of the cage and shrieking feline misery at a level of decibels that would normally require ear protection.
‘Brutus,’ I said, hoping for once he’d listen to me. ‘Just be quiet for now. Please?’
He paused for a moment, his yellow eyes gazing at me from behind the metal bars. ‘Bitches.’
When he realised who had spoken, the burly police officer nearest me let out a high-pitched shriek that was even louder than Brutus had managed. Impressive. Brutus shut up and stared. Before things got completely out of hand, I tried to speak up. ‘Look, guys, we’re all on the same side here. Let’s—’
‘Don’t say another word.’
‘But—’
‘I mean it,’ the policeman threatened. ‘Say just one word and you’ll regret it.’
‘Sir—’
‘I told you!’ he screamed in my face.
Alrighty: perhaps he was being serious about the no-talking thing. Winter nudged me with his elbow, which was pretty unnecessary. I had the message, loud and very clear.
Chapter Seventeen
There was no waterboarding or strip searches. No mention of a lawyer or even a single question. Winter, Brutus and I were simply dumped unceremoniously in a cell together and left to cool our heels.