I pretended to make the effort. ‘Oh,’ I groaned. ‘I don’t think so. You’ll have to carry me.’
‘Fireman’s lift it is, then.’
Whoa. ‘I’m getting up! Bloody hell.’ I used his hand to bring myself upright. Then I looked around; there was a great deal of blood. And mess. ‘The Order aren’t going to bill me for this, are they?’
‘Don’t worry,’ he said drily. ‘We have insurance.’
Just as well. I stumbled slightly, falling against him. Maybe I did need some help. ‘Ipsissimus Collings,’ I began.
‘We’ve found him.’ Winter’s voice was grim. ‘He put up a hell of a fight.’
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the tears at bay. It almost worked. ‘He was a good man.’
Winter nodded. He didn’t say anything but I knew it was only because he couldn’t trust himself to speak. I put a hand on his arm and squeezed.
The air in front of me shimmered and Clare’s face appeared, although it was remarkably transparent. Just like Ipsissimus Collings before her, she was already being called away. Her time here was up. Funnily enough, she didn’t look in the least bit sorry about it.
‘Thank you, Ivy.’ She turned her face and glanced away as if someone was shouting her name. A smile spread across her face. ‘I have to go but I had to say thank you. All of us thank you.’
‘You’re very welcome,’ I whispered. ‘I’ll make sure no one forgets you or the rest of your coven.’
She blew me a kiss then there was the now familiar flash of bright light. The witches around us gasped. Even Tarquin fell momentarily silent.
‘And just like that,’ I said quietly, ‘she was gone.’
There was a loud snort. ‘How many times do I have to tell you, woman? There’s a queue! We need to be orderly about this!’
I smiled at Ipsissimus Grenville. ‘Would you like me to help you now? You can pass over next. You’ve been here for long enough.’
His eyes widened fractionally then he wrung his hands and looked away. ‘I would like that.’ He sighed. ‘But I will stay until all the others are taken care of.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘All of them? That could take years.’
‘Yes.’ He nodded to himself. ‘But you’ll do it. We both know you will. I have full trust in you.’ I blinked. ‘Besides,’ he continued, ‘you’ll probably need my help.’
‘You’re not going to let me get any peace, are you?’
Grenville roared. ‘My dear! Peace is for wimps!’
‘I’m a wimp,’ I pointed out.
Winter pressed his lips against my temple. ‘No, you’re not.’
‘I’m not like you,’ I protested. ‘I’m not even like Tarquin.’
‘Thank goodness,’ he murmured. ‘Besides, we all know you’re much better.’
Arse. At this rate everyone would know all of my secrets. I’d have to work harder at being lazier. Much, much harder.
Epilogue
There was a shaft of sunlight hitting the bedroom floor. At this time of day, Brutus always found it something of a dilemma. Was it better to lie in the shade but on the comfort of the bed, or to lie in the sun but on the hardness of the floor? Both spots had a lot of merit and it was a difficult choice. However, this was the sort of problem he enjoyed toying with; lately, there had been challenges of far larger import – none of which he had appreciated in the slightest.
He’d just about made the decision to choose the sunshine when the door opened and a witch walked in. Excellent. Brutus immediately flopped onto his back and rolled around in the manner that humans seemed to adore. The witch crouched down and gave him a fuss, just as Brutus wanted. He could definitely get used to this kind of lifestyle. The more minions at his beck and call, the better.
Then the witch went back to the door and heaved in a vacuum monster. Brutus shot a wistful glance at the sunbeam and skedaddled. Ivy might enjoy someone else cleaning the house on a daily basis but did they have to do it every damn day? He missed having dust bunnies to chase after, and he was no match for the vacuum monster, much as he tried to kill it when it was sleeping in the cupboard.
With some regret, Brutus abandoned the bedroom and padded off in search of another place. He was tempted to head for the garden; not only would there be plenty more sunny warm spots where he could curl up, there might be the added bonus of birds. He was feeling slightly peckish. Unfortunately, he was also fairly certain that he’d seen Princess Parma Periwinkle stroll in that direction. That was all very well but if she was running an errand for the man, she’d no doubt try to draw him into her plans.
Brutus had long since decided that work was a beast better left to others. There was a reason he had attached himself to Ivy, after all. It had taken a lot of training to make her even remotely adequate as his witch, and she still had a long way to go, but Brutus remained optimistic. If he couldn’t claw her into shape, no one could.
He wound away from the residence and out towards the main Order buildings. There was always fun to be had with the red robes. Initially he’d considered demanding a diamond-studded collar so that everyone would know who he was but collars tended to chafe. Anyway, within three days everyone knew him. If you wanted to remain scratch free, you either carried fishy treats or you stayed far away from Brutus – unless you were particularly dumb. Some humans couldn’t be trained, no matter how hard you tried. The floppy-yellow-haired one heading towards him right now was a case in point.
‘Brutus!’ Tarquin nudged his companion, who was already doing the smart thing and backing away. ‘You know whose familiar this is, of course. We were childhood sweethearts but I was bit too much for her. She couldn’t keep up with my pace so we decided to split up. She was upset about it, of course, Cried for weeks, but it was for the best. There are no hard feelings on my part. I even saved her life when I saved the Order. Between you and me, she’d leave Ipsissimus Winter in a heartbeat if I told her I’d take her back but I wouldn’t do that to him. That’s the kind of good guy I am.’
Tarquin crouched down. Brutus purred and knocked against his hands then leapt up into his arms. It was only when Tarquin had straightened back up again with an overly wide smile that Brutus acted, slashing out one paw and scratching him across his eyelid. Tarquin shrieked and dropped him. ‘You little furry bastard!’
‘You big slimy bitch,’ Brutus answered. He flicked his tail and continued on his way.
He paused in front of the library, debating whether to enter. The skinny, nervous one was quite adept at petting, not that you’d expect it to look at him, but he often got distracted by witches asking questions or by old books which caught his eye. Brutus liked the man but he wasn’t playing second fiddle to a pile of papers. Not for anyone.
In the end, he continued towards the study. The man would be delighted to see him. One day those other witches would create a warding spell that would keep Brutus out – but Brutus doubted that day would be today.