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Sharon Karaa The Last Challenge (Northern Witches Series #1) Page 3


  Daniel frowned at her, clearly frustrated with the interruption. “Lauren, meet your ancestor, Agnes Rutherford.” Then he stormed off into the kitchen.

  As soon as he left the room, I found I was able to move again. I sprung back on the sofa, pulling my legs up to my chest and staring at Agnes. She put her hands on her hips and laughed openly.

  “What’s so bloody funny?” I demanded.

  “You! You’re flesh of my flesh alright!”

  My eyes narrowed accusingly. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

  “Well of course I am, no one lives to be four-hundred and ten years old, you fuck-wit!”

  “Hey! What’s with the name calling?” I frowned at her.

  She sighed and sat down next to me on the sofa. She seemed solid enough as she made an indent in the sofa and I’ll admit, I was more intrigued now than afraid. An Adonis and a batty old maid. They didn’t seem to mean me harm. I’d hear them out and let them have their fun.

  “Lauren Rutherford!” Agnes looked at me in wonder. “I am proud of you, Lauren even if you are a fuck-wit. Mind you, I can’t believe how crap you are in the kitchen. You’d better hope you make up for it in other rooms of the house!”

  “Can we get to the point?” I asked, puzzled and grossed out at the same time.

  “Ahh yes, the point. Well dear, the point is, the men who caused the death of my lover, your great whatsit, Matthew Bulmer, escaped from Hell and want revenge.” She pushed her spectacles back with her index finger and stared straight at me. “You, sweet cheeks, are it!”

  She then proceeded to tell me a story, clasping my hands in hers. As she gazed intently into my eyes, the narration played out in my head as if I were seeing it right there in the room.

  “Three men by the names of John Kincaid, Cuthbert Nicholson and Thomas Shevels were employed by the town council to rid the city of witches. Being paid a shilling for each witch was a perfect incentive to ensure the accused were found guilty. At that time, it was believed that if you pricked someone with a needle or bodkin and they didn’t bleed, then this proved they were a witch. The three men pricked thirty women from the city, along with Matthew, my lover. Fourteen of the women, and Matthew, failed to bleed from the wound. They were found guilty and hung on the town moor.”

  I saw the trial and the humiliation when Cuthbert Nicholson stripped the women to the waist, bearing their breasts to the court. I saw the four inch long bodkin used to puncture their skin and I saw the retraction switch, preventing the piercing and blood flow that would have proven the innocence of the accused.

  “They tricked them?” I whispered.

  “Yes, sweet cheeks, they did. But Matthew made sure they paid for it. As the noose was placed around his neck, he cursed all three to the Devil.” She patted my hand and stood, gazing off into the distant past.

  “I don’t understand!” I said, bemused. “Why do you think they’re after me?”

  For all the crazy tales these two loons might come up with, this one was rather sinister. Not to mention, I still didn’t understand my personal involvement.

  “If they can rid the earth of Matthew’s seed, then the curse is served. They can then choose to be reborn or join the Devil’s minions as demons, evil little fuckers,” she said, retaking her seat beside me. “There can be no redemption for them in Heaven or Hell until our line is ended.”

  “… and the escape?” I prompted.

  Agnes turned away from me. “We don’t know. All we know is that they escaped and they are hell bent on ending the curse.”

  “Then where is Matthew?” I asked.

  Agnes looked down at her hands, and for a moment, her face fell in despair. “Matthew’s deal with the Devil has meant his soul is now in purgatory.”

  As I processed this, Daniel came back in to the room and folded his arms across his chest.

  “So let me get this straight,” I said looking between Daniel’s stoic pose and Agnes, who was busy picking the wart on her chin. “Matthew cursed three lying scumbags to Hell, forfeit his own soul, the scumbags escaped, and now want to kill me to end their curse?”

  “That about sums it up. I said she was quick, didn’t I Daniel,” said Agnes, smiling. Daniel snorted and propped himself up against the wall in the same pose as the one I’d first seen him in, ankles and arms crossed.

  “So where do you fit in?” I asked Daniel. How had these two crazies gotten together anyway?

  “Jane Hunter, my ancestor, was one of the women hung alongside Matthew. Agnes contacted me because she knew I would want to see justice served, and I had the skills to help. You need someone with, shall we say, special talents, to deal with this situation. And I, Lauren, have very special talents,” he smiled suggestively at me.

  “Special talents?” I queried. “And what would those be? Kidnapping women on the back of a sodding motorbike? What is that? Lesson three in the Art of Seducing Women? You should try just asking a woman out some time, that might work out better for you.” Jolene screamed in protest and Abigail back-handed her.

  He laughed openly. “I don’t need to seduce women, Lauren. They usually attempt to seduce me.” I snorted in derision but I could well believe it.

  “Well, you know what? It’s been really nice and all, but I need to get back to reality. You and Mrs. Doubtfire here are obviously mad as hatters and I really don’t have time for this!” I jumped up and looked around me. “Where the hell are my shoes?”

  “Are you listening, woman?” Agnes’ eyes flashed. “Your life is in danger!”

  “You are both as mad as a box of frogs!” I replied, still searching frantically for my shoes.

  Daniel snorted again but didn’t move from the wall. “I told you she wouldn’t believe it!” he said, grinning.

  Agnes nudged him sharply with her hip and sent him careering to the left. “Stop being a smartass and help here, would you? I meant what I said, you do this or I become your constant companion through this life and the next, buster!” Agnes glared at him.

  Daniel walked towards me and grabbed me by the arms, pulling me to him. “Desino,” he said, and once again, I was frozen in place. I wished he would stop doing that!

  “Listen Lauren, I realise this is a lot to take in, but ask yourself, how did I get you here? Who attacked you when you couldn’t even see them? What about what you saw at the window just now? There is more to life than you realise.”

  I ignored his seemingly impossible questions and looked instead into his eyes. Christ Almighty, those eyes would be the death of me.

  “And how is it that you can’t move?” A secret smile played on his lips. “I could kiss you right now and you couldn’t do a thing about it!” His eyes twinkled.

  Then to prove his point, or to prove there really is a God, he brought his mouth to mine.

  I swear I saw stars. Wow this man could kiss! What started out as chaste quickly turned into something entirely different as his tongue came out and caressed my lip. Jolene was doing back flips. My mouth opened of its own volition and I found myself kissing him back. His hands came up to my face and I clamoured for his touch. When he finally pulled his face back and looked into my eyes, he seemed as surprised as I was.

  Then I promptly kicked him in the goodies and this time I was bang on target.

  He dropped like a stone.

  Agnes laughed like a hyena, slapping her ample thighs. “Oh I think I pee’d a bit!” she choked, struggling to get control of herself.

  “Can we come in yet?” said a timid voice at the door. I turned my head to see a young girl with long brown hair standing in a black shift dress and Doc Martins. Classy.

  “Fuck me, how many of you are there?” I said, surprised. Maybe it was a whole nut-house I’d inadvertently stumbled upon.

  Agnes rushed to the door and started pushing the girl out of the room. “Katherine, I told you to wait until I gave you the all clear!”

  “Oh let her come in and join the party,” I said, sarcastically. “Don’t tell me,
let me guess! You’re a vegetarian vampire who has a thing for beetroot.”

  “Don’t be sarcastic, it doesn’t suit you,” Agnes reproached as she came back in to the room, pushing her hand through her curly grey hair in exasperation. “She’s a spirit, like me, and you mind your manners, she’s very sensitive.”

  Daniel groaned, still rolling around the floor, clutching his man-jewels.

  “Are you always this aggressive?” he asked.

  “Only when it’s called for,” I said, still searching frantically for my footwear. “Now give me my bloody shoes before I clock you one again.”

  Agnes walked over to Daniel and waved her hand, muttering under her breath. Daniel lowered his knees and sighed in relief, using the sofa to lean on as he pulled himself to a standing position.

  “I swear, if you come near me, I will knock your gonads up to your tonsils,” I jumped back. Sexy or not, I reserved the right to be man-handled for one man. George Clooney. And he wasn’t here.

  Daniel stopped in his tracks and raised both his hands. “Lauren, I’ll take you home, I promise, but you need to be aware of the dangers and take precautions to protect yourself. I can charm you, but that will only last for a day or so. That will give you time to think things through.”

  “No more hocus bloody pocus! Just give me my shoes and let me get out of here,” I demanded.

  Daniel ran his hand through his hair in frustration, and then turned back to me. “Aliquam meae!”

  3 - Invisible to the eye

  Sunlight was streaming through the gap in my hastily pulled curtains, and as I opened half an eye to interrogate my alarm clock, I realised I was late for work. This was getting to be a habit.

  I sat bolt upright, prepared to make a run for it, before remembering it was the weekend.

  My body relaxed with a sigh, before it all came back to me, and I bolted up again.

  Cat, who had curled up on the chair, gave me a filthy look for waking him up, then lowered his head and closed his eyes.

  Yesterday was Friday. Today was Saturday. Yesterday I was at John’s party, had been attacked by something, rescued by my sexy stranger, abducted to God knows where, had a conversation with a delusional and foul-mouthed old woman who thought she was a ghost, and then somehow woke up back here!

  How did I get here? Did someone at the party drug me? Had I been roofied? Nothing was making any sense.

  I pulled the covers back and saw myself now dressed in my PJs. Thank God but… how the hell did that happen?

  I jumped out of bed and looked around for the clothes I’d been wearing the night before. They were folded neatly on the dresser, a fact which was also worrying because I never folded dirty clothes. I never folded clothes, period. In fact, if we were being perfectly honest, I was a bit of a slob. My shoes were lined up smartly beneath the chair, but my bag and my phone were missing.

  I ran to the lounge and grabbed for the telephone, speed-dialling Selina’s number. As I waited, I walked into the kitchen and pulled out a tin of tuna for Cat. What can I say? At times of stress, habit takes over. Hearing the tin rattle, Cat joined me in the kitchen, sauntering across the floor and coming to a stop in front of me as I listened to the phone ringing. He stretched lazily and watched me impatiently as I emptied the contents of the tin into his dish and placed it in front of him.

  Cat had adopted me and didn’t have a name as such. Sleek, black, and evil-tempered, he turned up at my door just after the death of my parents and refused to leave. Eventually, I gave up and let him have the run of the house, three months later fitting a cat flap so he could come and go as he pleased. I had tried a few names out on him but he refused to respond to anything but Cat. Personally, I couldn’t see what was wrong with Fluffy or Gizmo. Tinkerbell, I understood… once I realised he was male.

  Selina eventually answered the phone and I knew immediately I had woken her up.

  “So… want to tell me where you and Mr. Sex on Legs went?”

  I could tell she was really mad because she didn’t swear or shout. When she was calm, she was deadly.

  “I…” was all I managed to say before she launched into me.

  “You left me stranded at the party and I ended up having to console a pissed Lucinda when the penny finally dropped about her latest non-conquest! I swear that woman is so conceited, she couldn’t fathom that a man wouldn’t find her irresistible, even if he was gay.” she continued.

  I snorted at the image as I bent to stroke Cat’s fur. Just hearing Selina’s voice was enough to calm me down. There had to be a rational explanation for what happened last night. I just had to calm down and find it.

  “Damn, wish I’d been there to see that!” I stood up and headed to the kettle. I needed coffee.

  “Anyway, that’s beside the point! ‘Fess up! Did you do the dirty deed?” she asked.

  “Selina, I only just met the man!”

  “Yeah, well, it might be the only way you’re going to get laid at this rate.”

  I pulled a cup out of the cupboard. “Hurtful! True, but hurtful!”

  “Will you get on with it and tell me already!”

  “You won’t believe it,” I said, quickly working through the words in my head and thinking, shit, she really won’t believe it! I didn’t know where to start, given that I hardly believed it myself.

  “Three seconds and I am hanging up…. one… two…”

  “I ran out after Stephen to try and stop him… and by the way, I want to know what the score is with Andrew and John… I was attacked in the car park then abducted by the guy who was staring at me in the coffee shop. He took me to see this old woman who reckons she’s a ghost, and you would not believe the crap they told me last night. After that I don’t know what happened but I woke up here!”

  There was a pause on the other end.

  “You know what? If you don’t want to tell me just say so.”

  I closed my eyes. Her frustration was understandable. Saying the story aloud made it sound far worse than it seemed in my fuzzy morning memory. I needed my best friend.

  “If you come over here, I’ll tell you everything. Bring McMuffins and I’ll make the coffee,” I said, fingers crossed. Silence.

  “Selina, please? I know it sounds crazy, but you need to hear the full story. No holds barred, I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

  She took the bait, I suspected, only because she thought I’d finally lost my virginity and wanted the low down. Being a twenty-five year old virgin was embarrassing, but the first date curse was really cutting in to my chances to change that.

  Selina lived twenty minutes away and she’d be with me within the hour.

  Putting down the phone, I rushed to the bathroom to get ready. I turned on the shower and pulled off my PJs. Then my mouth fell open. I was covered in bruises! Although strangely enough, given the pounding I had taken, there was no pain. I checked my neck and my head. The bump on my head was definitely gone, but there was a deep purple discoloration around my throat where my attacker had attempted to strangle me. Well, I could at least be sure that I hadn’t dreamt it all up now but I wasn’t sure that made me feel any better.

  I picked up my toothbrush and loaded it with toothpaste as the water heated and steam started to rise. Brushing my teeth, I couldn’t help but think about Daniel. Shame he was such a nut job. My thoughts travelled back to memories of his eyes staring into mine, his smile and those sexy lips. Not to mention his chest, his legs, even the promising bulge in his jeans! I groaned as heat swelled between my legs, and quickly rinsed my mouth before looking back up into the foggy mirror.

  I had to be losing my mind. Strangled, abducted, and it was his eyes I was thinking about? It’s strange how the mind works in traumatic situations. Well, at least it was strange how my mind worked. Still, Selina would be here soon and maybe going back through it all, she could help me find the logical answer. I must have been drugged, nothing else made sense. Maybe I was drugged and then fell over, resulting in the bruises? No. Th
at wouldn’t work. What about the bruises around my neck? No way were they made by anything other than someone strangling me. Unless… maybe someone drugged me and tried to strangle me in the car park? Maybe they really fancied a pair of Prada black pumps?

  I wiped my hand neatly through the moisture on the mirror.

  … and screamed at the sight of Agnes’ shrivelled old face smirking behind me.

  “What the fuck are you doing here and how did you get in?” I grabbed a towel to cover myself and marched out of the room, dragging Agnes with me.

  “Now Lauren, calm down. Think nice thoughts.” She struggled to keep up with my pace. “The ones you were having just now about Daniel, for example,” she chuckled, digging her heels into the floor. I continued to try to drag her down the stairs towards the door, and she crossed her arms.

  “I’m not leaving so you might as well hear me out!” she said stubbornly.

  I dropped her arm and marched into the living room. “How did you get in here?” I asked again.

  “I’m a ghost, remember?” She waved her hand in front of my face as though I was the one with a mental problem.

  “You’re pretty fucking solid for a ghost! You’re nothing more than a delusional old woman and you need to stop this nonsense before I call the police,” I exclaimed, crossing my arms to keep the towel from falling to the floor.

  Agnes sighed and her ample bosom rose and fell. She put her hands on her hips and looked at me in consternation. “You want proof?”

  Our eyes met, and for a moment, she stared steadily back at me.

  Then she was gone.

  There are certain moments in life. Moments that defy all logic. That fundamentally change who you are, and irrevocably alter your perception of reality. Moments where you know without a shadow of a doubt, there’s no going back.

  I was afraid I was having one of those moments.

  Fuck.

  There was a slight popping sound and Agnes rematerialized in front of me.

  “Now do you get it?”