In a flash, Victor hangs up and dashes out the back door.
“What is it, Victor?” I yell.
Looking back at me, Victor pauses to reply, “My bar.” He reaches a hand out to me, which I take willingly. Victor pulls me against him and shoots up into the sky, leaving Kheda and Jasmine behind. I tuck my head into the crook of his neck, inhaling his warm musky sent which reminds me of spices, and hot summer nights in the desert, even though I’ve never been to the desert. I cling tightly to him; a second later, we land in the woods behind Victor’s bar.
The screaming and scent of terror assails our senses, as we dash to the back of the building. Peering in the nearest window, we stare at the scene before us. Blood decorates the walls and floor of the pub.
We spot Simon lying on the bar, his head facing the door, eyes open wide in terror. Ropes have been wrapped tightly around him, holding him down, preventing him from rolling off.
A tube inserted into his side is draining him of his blood; the tube I notice, leads to the bathrooms, if I remember correctly. Tears flow down his bruised face as he cries helplessly, unable to save himself.
A shudder ripples through him, as his eyes stray to a decapitated head in front of him. I look at the head and gasp in shock as I recognize the quiet witch from the cave, and my grandmother’s shop.
Bloody hell, what was her name? Peter Rabbit…Beatrix something or other. Crap, I’d begun to think she was the killer; after all she kept turning up everywhere. I feel guilty of suspecting her, even if only slightly, but to be honest she did fit the profile.
Glancing at Victor, I reach for his hand and squeeze it gently. The look of anger in his eyes is frightening, yet I’m not afraid. I understand it completely, I feel just as furious. I twirl one finger around, raising an eyebrow in enquiry. Giving me a puzzled look, Victor realizes I’m asking if he wants us to continue to look around.
With a nod of agreement we separate, circling the building. Every window I come across I peek in, but apart from finding the staff’s bodies, there’s nothing else to see. At my final window, I spot Victor glancing in a window opposite, and wave at him in warning. A cloaked figure is approaching him from behind.
He turns, just as the figure whacks him, knocking him unconscious. Staring helplessly, I quickly duck, covering my mouth as I stifle a sob. Anger floods me. A second later peeking once again, I see the cloaked figure drag Victor’s unconscious body to the front door. Quickly I hurry back to the bathroom window.
Jimmying it open, I heft myself up straddling it before slipping silently inside. Listening, I creep toward the door, pausing as I hear Simon crying.
Pushing the door open a crack, I gasp in shock then anger, as the cloaked killer strips Victor’s shirt from his body, running her hands over his muscled torso. No way in hell is this bitch getting away with touching my man.
Flinging open the door, I step in to face the woman underneath the cloak. At my sudden entrance, she falls back in shock, dropping Victor. His head bounces off the floor at the sudden impact.
“Get away from him!” I growl.
Clambering to her feet, the cloaked witch throws her cloak back dramatically, showing me her face. I stare in puzzlement at the waitress from The Olive Tree.
“Why?” I demand.
“Why? How can you ask me why? It should be obvious, especially to you. The question is, how can you associate yourself with the likes of him?” Sally Jensen demands as she curls her lip in disgust. “Filthy whore, you will be next, once I’ve taken care of him,” Sally cackles.
“Behind you,” gasps Simon in warning, as slim feminine arms wrap around me, clamping my arms to my sides with surprising strength.
“Hold her, and make sure she watches while I take care of her lover,” sniggers Sally. I struggle to free myself, slamming my head back into my assailant. As my head impacts with hers, her arms loosen enough for me to break her hold. Quick as lightning I twirl around, recognizing the waitress from Hal’s.
Shooting electricity from my fingers, I electrocute her. Her body shakes and hums before collapsing in a heap. Growling, I turn back to Sally, as she hits me with a binding spell, trapping my magick and preventing me using it. This explains how she is able to kill other witches. My eyes widen in mimicry of fear, as she pulls me magically toward her.
“Stupid witch, you’re helpless, and now you will watch as I take care of him.” She gloats pointing at Victor who’s waking up.
“If I was only just a witch, you would be so right,” I calmly reply getting her attention. I pounce, shapeshifting into a wolf, ripping her throat out mid scream.
Victor is gaping at me, with a stupid but quite endearing smile, as the front door bangs open. Kheda, Jasmine and some officers pile into the pub. Padding over to Victor, I give his face a lick and plop down beside him as he scratches behind my ears, making me wiggle in satisfaction and give a happy tail thump. Jasmine and Kheda hurry toward us.
“Where’s Candi, and who’s this?” Kheda asks as he eyes me in confusion. It’s only when he looks at me again, a gasp of shock escapes from him, as he recognizes my laughing eyes. In the split second it takes to draw in a breath, I transform from wolf to witch, with Kheda gaping in shock, his jaw hanging loose.
Kheda finally stops gaping at me, to untie Simon. The EMTs carefully take him off the counter and onto a stretcher, rushing him to the hospital.
Victor informs the officers he has security cameras. Except for an officer standing guard over the unconscious Savannah, we all pile into his office to watch the recording.
Savannah wakes with her arms handcuffed behind her. She tries playing the victim; with her broken bloody nose, she looks the part, I grudgingly admit.
“What, what’s going on?” she stammers, forcing out a couple of tears for the added benefit of the officers, superstitiously looking around. “Why am I handcuffed? I don’t understand, I was attacked,” Savannah sobs. Spotting me she starts screaming hysterically, “It was her. She attacked me. I was just minding my own business, when she came in and…oh it was so horrible,” Savannah cries.
Blimey, if I didn’t know for a fact she was speaking the biggest load of bull crap I have ever heard, I would believe her! Seeing an officer move toward me, I roll my eyes in disgust. “Did you not just watch the security video?” I demand, to which the officer has the grace to flush in embarrassment and step away.
“What security video?” Savannah demands, all pretenses of tears vanishing as she looks around at the grim-faced officers. For a second she gives up, sagging forward in defeat.
“The one clearly showing you and Sally, entering the bar and brutally murdering and torturing all these people,” Kheda informs her in satisfaction.
Furiously, Savannah glares at Victor as if this is entirely his fault.
“Security cameras, really? It’s a pub, why are security cameras necessary?” Savannah shrieks, as she unsuccessfully tries to clamber to her feet.
“Well, apparently they are necessary,” drawls Victor as he looks at the death and destruction in his bar, before turning his furious gaze back on Savannah.
“I take protecting my staff and customers very seriously, and obviously I was right in having them, or you would have probably gotten away with these murders judging by your excellent acting skills.”
****
During this conversation, I sit on a bar stool staring in disgust at Savannah. My eyes keep skittering toward Beatrix’s decapitated head. With an exhausted huff, I shift, almost falling off the stool before righting myself to settle more firmly. Again I exhale noisily, as my brain sluggishly processes everything around me. Once more my eyes are drawn to Beatrix’s head. A perplexing frustration settles over me as I find myself staring yet again at it, with a further sigh I give in, going to it for a better look. Crouching down I cock my head, studying it, the more I study it, the more puzzled I become.
“What the hell are you doing?” demands Nina as she stares at me in puzzlement.
As realization dawns on me I give the head a poke, watching it as it topples over. Numbers counting down flash at me. Someone screams at me. My face blanches, and I scream at everyone to get out as I fall on my ass.
“Leave the head alone, you sick bitch,” a young officer screams at me in anger.
Scrambling to my feet I shout again, “Get the fuck out. It’s a bomb, for crying out loud.”