Flee Read online

  He leaned forward, a wicked glint in his eyes, he held her gaze with his until his head was between her breasts. Then he stuck out his tongue, and started to lick off the blood. With slow sensual strokes, he cleaned her up, his tongue hot and rough on her cold skin. It seemed reptilian, she thought as she screamed inside her private prison.

  Slowly, he wiped the blood, from the pit beneath her breasts. Licking around her right breast, and up to her nipple, he bit it hard. The pain was sharp and personal. She screamed in her mind. He let go and slid his tongue down across her stomach. Licking her flanks, where the blood had run, he noisily sucked at the little puddle deep within her belly button.

  Standing, blood dripping from his face, he waved the Rowan wand again, and said, “Speak of this only to me. By the power of Aldona, I freeze your words.”

  He giggled, stepped back, and placed the wand back inside his jacket. Then he clapped his hands.

  Doris fell onto the carpet with a bump that sent shockwaves of pain up her spine. She lay there for a second before the realization that she could move hit her. Jumping up, she flew at him, shrieking her rage. As she covered the ground between them, he stood calm and condescending. Just before she reached him he held out his hand, and shouted, “Siste.”

  She stopped as if she had hit a wall, and was thrown back onto the carpet, bumping her hip badly.

  “Get dressed, Doris. Let’s take you home.” He turned his back on her, covering his eyes with a mock chivalry.

  “You’re letting me go?” she asked, her shoulders slumped in defeat and disbelief.

  “Yes, you will be unable to communicate any of this to anyone, ever, and by tomorrow your body will bear my mark. That mark will give me power. For now, the power of wealth from a blood sacrifice. But one day, who knows? I may need a bigger sacrifice, and one who bears the mark of Aldona is a powerful gift. To do this under Alex’s nose is… well, a delicious treat.”

  True to his word, he let her go, and every time she tried to tell someone what happened, or to write it down, she told the story of a nice but boring night out, with a boy she wouldn’t see again. It was freaky, and left her feeling lonely and betrayed.

  The mark had appeared by morning, a tattoo of a Celtic band, drawn from between her breasts to her navel. The Celtic symbols crisscrossed between her breasts, and down her stomach, and within the pattern was a figure of eight. Entwined within the symbol for eternity was a serpent, its head pointing outwards between her breasts, its left eye closed in a wink. It was all there when she woke the next morning, wondering if it had been a bad dream. But it had taken three weeks for the cuts to heal.

  She had never been able to talk about it or even write it down, had never even been able to show anyone the mark. In fact, she couldn’t see the mark if she looked directly at it. It was as if it was hidden from her. The only time she saw it was if she caught a glance of herself in the mirror. Often she thought it was all a dream, just something she had made up.

  Whenever he visited the house she felt the need to be polite to. She had never dated again. Apart from the tattoo, her other lasting memory had been violent nightmares in which he raped and abused her, laughing, and smiling as he did so. He stood between her legs, pounding into her sore bruised body, and always when he withdrew -- his penis was that snake. It would rise up and wink at her before disappearing back into his trousers. The zip of his fly would raise itself as she watched.

  Chapter Eleven

  A gentle knock roused Jenny from deep sleep. She glanced at her wrist, with eyes sore and bleary from the previous night’s tears. A gasp passed her lips as she saw it was gone eleven o’clock. Clearing her throat, she managed a weak, “Yes.”

  “Would you like a cup of tea?” Robert asked as he poked his bright and cheery face around the door.

  “Oh, yes, please. I can’t believe I slept in this late,” she replied, pulling the covers tight up to her shoulders. Rosie watched Robert alert and wary, but quietly, from the bed. “I’ll be up in a minute, so I’ll come down for it.”

  “Okay. You look tired, kid.” He hovered for a moment as if unsure what to say. A weak smile crossed his face before he disappeared behind the door.

  Jenny walked into the kitchen, tired, confused, and still close to tears. She ran a hand through her hair, and wandered aimlessly to the table. Rosie walked slowly behind her mistress, her own head down as if she too was grieving.

  Jenny scanned the room. All seemed normal; sunlight peeked through the wooden blinds, lighting up the modern, and usually spotless kitchen. The surfaces, however, looked a little bedraggled as Robert prepared breakfast. He whipped around in front of her, and placed a plate on the table, pointing for her to take a seat with a wooden spatula. A chunk of egg dropped from the implement to land on the stone floor.

  Rosie trotted over, and scoffed down the egg before Robert could even bend. He shrugged his shoulders, and turned back to the side, a slight grin on his face.

  Sitting down Jenny, picked up the comforting tea from the wooden table, and watched. Robert was a bustle of activity, cups and plates spread out on the side, and in front of him. After a few minutes of stirring, he tipped scrambled eggs onto another plate before joining her at the table.

  Jenny looked down at her plate of eggs and a glass of orange juice sat neatly in front of her. Robert had tried so hard. The thought warmed the cold spot in her stomach just a little. She eyed the food, and her stomach churned. “Sorry Robert, but I think Rosie will have to eat the eggs.”

  “You should eat something.”

  “No. I feel so sick, I couldn’t keep it down. Have you heard anything yet?” She took the plate, and scraped the eggs into Rosie’s dish. The dog trotted over, and hungrily wolfed down the food, wagging her stump of a tail appreciatively.

  “I’ve had a phone call from a Detective Somway,” Robert said. “Doris is fine, but they took her in for questioning, and for now they don’t need to see you.”

  “What, Doris?”

  “Maybe they want to keep her safe.”

  “She could come here?”

  Robert smiled. “She can and she will, but just give them a little more time. For now, they want to keep your location secret. Something about you being in danger.” Robert shrugged.

  Jenny sighed. “I guess it makes sense. I’m so glad Doris is safe. Mum used to tell her she would die in that house. It was meant to be nice. To mean she was one of the family. Last night, it felt like a cruel joke.”

  “Well, one thing I can promise you,” Robert’s smile deepened, “Doris is not going to die in Raseby Manor. It’s over, and you’re both safe now.” He patted Jenny’s shoulder before continuing.

  “The police think it was a rival thing, between your dad and another in the… the business. They still want to keep you safe and secluded. They will want to talk to you, but as you didn’t see anything they are more worried about suspects, other… others who practice the same things. I gave them a list of who it could be… I’m sorry to say that Simon tops that list.”

  “Yeah, I know. I still think I have to call him, just to see what he says. If I don’t tell him where I am, it will be safe won’t it?” Jenny took a sip of the tea, and sighed as the hot liquid filled her with a moment’s malty comfort.

  “I don’t know, can’t he do some kind of location spell?”

  “Only if you believe any of this magic stuff is real. What did the police say about that?”

  Robert coughed, an embarrassed look flashing across his usually calm features. “Well, they sort of said it was all nonsense. They don’t believe it was magic, just plain common old garden murder, motivated by greed.”

  “Can I speak to Doris? Did they leave a number?” Jenny asked.

  “No, he told me she would be out of commission for a few days. They want to...” He hesitated, and looked across at Jenny, reading her reaction or offering sympathy she couldn’t tell which. “They want to question her. It appears she had some trouble in her past.”


  “What? They can’t think Doris could have anything to do with this?”

  “It’s just police procedure, nothing to worry about. For now, you’re my worry, so let’s get you past thirty before we think about anything else.”

  He coughed again before looking her straight in the eyes, his voice soothing, “I’m sorry, Jenny, but the funerals will have to wait a while too. The police will let us know when they can release… your… the bodies. But don’t you worry. I’m going to take care of all of that for you.” Robert reached out to hold Jenny’s hand squeezing it briefly, before tucking into his own breakfast.

  * * *

  Jenny stared at the screen. Robert had been kind enough to retrieve her belongings from her car. There were a few clothes, her laptop and Rosie’s food and dishes. Now, she had work to do. Robert had made her a makeshift desk in the corner of the bedroom, and left her in peace to work. Orders needed processing for her online business, but she kept staring at the screen and seeing nothing, or worse the scene at Raseby. Nothing made sense.

  Stopping again, she rubbed away the tears that made the computer screen unreadable. She had intended to do something, to keep her mind busy, but could not seem to concentrate. The screen buzzed in front of her. The electronic hum seemed like a storm. She looked around the pleasant room, feeling caged, and not knowing what to do. For a second, she saw herself hurl the laptop at the wall, wanting to smash it into a million pieces. She bit down hard on her lip. Losing control would help no one.

  Rosie whined at her side, and pushed her cold nose under Jenny’s arm. Now that she had Jenny’s attention, the dog rolled over exposing, her silky white belly for a stroke. “Oh, come here pooch,” Jenny said, getting down on her hands and knees, and rubbing the dog’s tummy. The feel of the warm coat as smooth as velvet was wonderfully comforting.

  Rosie’s eyes rolled back in delight, and her huge boxer jowls flopped open, exposing pink gums and long teeth. Pushing her face down to the dog’s belly, Jenny closed her eyes, and hugged the big soft creature.

  Squeak, Squeak, the ring of her mobile startled her. Jenny laughed, standing to retrieve it from her bag. The ring tone was a recording of Rosie squeaking a rubber toy. It always made her giggle. Picking up the phone, she recognized the number. Simon. A pain, like a fist landed deep in her chest. Why was he ringing her? Did he know what happened? And if so, how? Was he the killer? Was he trying to find her, to take her for his own power?

  The phone continued to squeak, getting louder and louder. Jenny placed it to her ear and pressed connect. “Hello?”

  “Jenny, how are you? I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day.” Simon sounded agitated. “I had a terrible nightmare last night, about your parents, and I can’t reach them, by phone or by magic. I feel a darkness building, and, well, I know your father was worried about your ascension to power.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jenny interrupted, as soon as a gap appeared. He had been rambling, and she wanted to find out how much he knew. A sickness rose in her stomach, and a calm rage added fire to her words.

  Simon drew in a long breath, which seemed to rattle across the miles. “I think you’re in danger. I think something terrible has happened to your parents, and I know you need to come to me now. I am the only one who can protect you. Tell me, where are you?”

  “I’m safe, with a friend, and I’m not telling you where.” Her words sounded petulant and silly. She should trust him.

  “Why, what has happened?” Concern raised his voice a notch.

  “You know, damn it. I think only you could have done this, and now you pretend to be my friend. What sort of fool do you think I am?”

  “Jenny, wait. I am your friend.” He paused. “So, it’s true, your father is dead. Can I ask, his throat was it…”?

  “Damn it, Simon what do you mean?”

  “I’m sorry, what about Helen?”

  “Mum too,” Jenny’s voice wobbled. She bit her lip in confusion, so wanting to believe Simon. He could protect her. And there was the message from her mum. What should she do?

  “I’m so sorry.” Simon’s voice seemed far away, and a little lonely. “Jenny I know we’ve had our differences, but you have to trust me, you are in danger. I feel a dark force building. There’s a mage, one I don’t recognize, and he is close to you. If he finds you, he will want to use you in a sacrifice on your thirtieth birthday.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m safe. I’m at a friend’s, and thinking of staying here until after Saturday. Simon, I think the Police will want to talk to you.”

  “Ok, I’ll ring them, but do me a favor. Meet me.”

  “No, I think I’m safer here,” she said.

  “You don’t understand. I tried a locator spell last night, and I can’t find you. Which means the person who committed these crimes is hiding you. This means if he doesn’t already know where you are, he soon will.”

  “Simon, how can I believe you? How many times have I heard you and dad laugh that you two were the only ones who could harm each other? There is no other powerful mage out there, even if I believe in this magic crap anyway.” She hung up the phone in frustration. Sitting back down on the bed hard, she dropped her head into her hands. The pain was so intense, and the images of her parents so vivid. “Oh, mum. Who do I trust?”

  She heard footsteps, followed by a knock. “Can I come in?” Robert asked.

  “Sure.”

  He opened the door, and entered a concerned look on his kindly face. “How are you? Did I hear talking?”

  “Simon rang me.” She looked at him, and attempted a smile.

  “Did you tell him where you are?” he asked, a little sharply.

  “No, I’m too afraid of him for that, but part of me thinks I should go to him. Robert what do I do?”

  “Why did he ring you?” Robert asked, his head tipped slightly.

  “He said he had a nightmare about mum and dad.” Her voice faltered on the names. “Said he tried to locate me and couldn’t, so he was worried.” She raised her eyebrows, silently asking Robert for his opinion.

  “Well, it sounds a bit suspect to me. If he knew something was wrong maybe he...” He ended the sentence there, leaving the question hanging. “Anyway, do you believe this locator spell nonsense?”

  “I’ve seen some amazing things. Remember that kidnapped boy a couple of years ago?”

  “Yes, I was impressed with that. Come on anyway let’s get you some dinner.”

  “No, I’m still not hungry.” She cast her eyes down, looking at the phone. Should she ring him back?

  “You have to eat,” he said. “Besides its tomato soup, my own recipe.” His smile was infectious.

  She tossed the mobile lightly onto the bed, and followed him from the room. He was trying so hard. It was the least she could do, yet somehow she did not see the soup filling the hole of despair inside her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jenny shifted her position at the small desk for the hundredth time. It didn’t help so she stared at the swirling circles on the laptop’s screen, allowing them to gently numb her mind. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. It was no good. She could not concentrate. She closed down her business’s online ordering system. A job that usually took her less than an hour today seemed to have taken all afternoon. After each small job she would find herself gazing into space, or just weeping.

  Robert had come with her earlier when they walked Rosie. The countryside was lovely, with rolling hills and lush green trees. It should have been pleasant, relaxing even.

  They found a nice farm track where Rosie ran for the sheer joy of it. With her head down, and her jowls flapping wildly, the dog had raced up and down the muddy lane. Every smell was exciting, and had to be investigated. She would stick her nose to the ground and sniff heavily. It had even been funny to see the usually immaculate Robert in jeans and wellies. But Jenny just found herself angry, the gentle breeze infuriated, rather than soothed. A robin that followed them incensed, rather than intrigued her
. Would she ever see beauty again in a world that could be so cruel?

  A rap on the door sent shock-waves of panic down her spine as Robert’s head appeared around the jamb. “I have to go out for a while, visit with the police, and check up on a few things. Will you be ok?”

  “Yes, I’ll be fine.” She looked up at him comforted, by his calm strength and reassurance. “Should I come with you?”

  “No, they just want to see me, for the moment.” He watched her for a second longer before turning. “Ok, I’ll see you later,” he called, leaving the room.

  The door closed behind him with a finality that struck her as cruel. She sat, frozen in a forgotten time, her mind going over and over the previous night’s events. The message from her mum haunted her.

  Jenny this is about you,

  flee,

  get to Simon

  Hide.

  That message would not leave her mind. The sight of her mum’s blood-smeared finger pointing towards the wall was burned into her memory. What effort must it have taken to write that message? Her mum’s injuries looked… instantly fatal. A terrible thought crossed her mind. Had her mum written the note? If the killer was Simon, and he wanted to get hold of her, could he have written it with her mum’s hand?

  Distractedly, she stared at the screen. Nothing made sense. Standing abruptly, she almost toppled the chair behind her. Steadying herself she sucked in deep breaths. They became gasps, and then tears as she neared hysteria. Closing her eyes to ground herself she decided to ring Simon.

  Reaching behind her to the bed, she searched the covers absently for the mobile she had dropped earlier. If she kept the call short he wouldn’t be able to find her. Still her hands searched for the phone, only now she was annoyed at not feeling it. She looked at the bed. The phone was not there. The blanket where Rosie sat alert, and ever comforting was in the middle of the bed, the rest of the sheets appeared empty – with no mobile.