51. Chapter 51
Chapter 51
I flew on Bastion’s back as he took us to the nearest city, Edinburgh. Oscar was driving my mum, Benji and Frogmatch back there, but I needed some time to process the gargantuan pile of poop that had just gone down.
Watching my father being taken away in cuffs – behind his back this time – was not a highlight in my life. And it wasn’t over yet because my dear, murderous half-brother, Edward, was still on the loose somewhere.
Beatrice Wraithborne had been one of the evil witches who had fought to keep the house standing. As she’d sent dark magic careening towards Bastion, she had taunted him that her texting him my location was part of the Leader’s plan all along, a plan to bring Bastion in so that he would die.
As Bastion was busy with Lycia, it was Frogmatch that had dealt with the evil witch. When he had shrunk down to his usual pint size, he had scuttled across the floor and tied her laces into an intricate work of art. When she had tried to curse him, his impish magic had awoken. The elaborately tied laces had grown and extended upwards, growing into dark and deadly vines. The insidious plant had crept up her body whilst she had attempted to summon dark magic to destroy it. The vines had moved faster and faster. They had wrapped around her slim neck and strangled her whilst she pawed at them in panic. Apparently, Frogmatch’s knot designs weren’t just about aesthetics.
Wise was going to send me a full list of the dead when they’d been identified. There was an horrific room of the dead in the evil Coven’s basement: vampyrs in cages, dead bodies in various states of dismemberment, and what looked like a wall of trophies. It was in that room of horror that I had found small Fifi, Hannah’s snake familiar. She had been nailed to the trophy wall. Bastion had removed the nail at my request. It had taken every inch of bravery that I possessed to pick up the serpent and take her back with me, albeit in a box. However terrified I was of reptiles, it was the right thing to do; I would fulfil my vow to see the small snake resting with her mistress .
As well as the corpses in the macabre room of the dead, Charlize and Haiku had been a little enthusiastic in some of their dispatches. Dental records would be needed to identify a good portion of the fresh bodies that lay strewn around the manor.
I had called Voltaire and told him about the vampyrs in the cages. Wise probably wouldn’t like that move, but Voltaire had brought David to me and saved Benji’s life. I figured with the phone call we were square.
We left when the mansion was overrun with Connection operatives; as more vans arrived, it was time to make a discreet exit. Bastion flew us over Edinburgh’s castle, but he didn’t bank to the Witchery as I’d expected; instead, he flew us over Dean Gardens before landing in front of an impressive Georgian house.
I slid off his back and he shifted to human. ‘Erm, Bastion, where are we?’
He shrugged. ‘One of my houses.’
‘One of… How many houses do you have?’
‘A few. Come on.’ He unlocked the front door and tugged me inside. The house was warm and softly lit.
Apollinaire greeted us. ‘Dinner is in the kitchen boss.’ He gave us both a little bow and left through the front door, locking it behind him and leaving us alone .
‘You sent Apollinaire ahead to get us dinner?’ I asked incredulously.
‘And to warm up the house. She’s old and it takes a while.’ He patted the walls affectionately. ‘Let’s eat first and then we’ll talk.’
He tugged me along, letting me gape at the luxurious house. Most of the rooms had floor-to-ceiling bookcases. ‘Ah, Bastion, what’s with all the books?’
He sent me an amused look. ‘You’re not the only reader here, Bambi. My tastes lean more towards Clancy and Grisham rather than Nora Roberts, but I am a reader.’
‘I think I love you even more,’ I breathed, looking at the laden bookshelves.
He barked a laugh. ‘Good to know.’ My stomach rumbled. ‘Come on, let’s get the beast fed.’ He led me to a modern kitchen with a large oak dining table. Apollinaire had gone all out and lit some candles for us at one end of the gargantuan table.
‘This is huge!’ I exclaimed.
‘Said the actress to the bishop,’ Bastion quipped, making me snort. ‘I host a lot of griffins here sometimes. It’s nice to have an informal entertaining space.’
He guided me to the table before opening a bottle of white wine. He poured us both a glass before getting two plates out of the oven. ‘Careful,’ he murmured as he set the food down. ‘The plates are hot.’
Apollinaire had made – or sourced – deliciously cooked seabass in some sort of white wine and caper sauce resting on a bed of buttery new potatoes and crushed minted peas, decorated with samphire. I gave an appreciative moan. ‘This is phenomenal.’
Bastion looked at me over the rim of his glass. ‘You’ll make that noise for me later.’
‘Promises, promises,’ I said a shade breathlessly.
He smiled. He knew he could deliver.
I smiled back. So did I.