Chapter 10 Peter
PETER
When Peter returned from taking out the boxes, he found Faye asleep on the couch. He gently covered her with the blanket on her lap. He thought about leaving her, but her bedroom still needed a bed, and he didn’t want her to have to set it up after a long day of work.
He tried to be quiet as he read the instructions.
Benedict would never believe his troublemaking brother had turned into a handyman.
It took him longer than he would have cared to admit, since he struggled to figure out how to use the electric screwdriver.
Still, he eventually managed to get it working.
As the sun rose, Peter finished hanging the plants from Rosie’s shelves by the bed and around the window.
She would wake soon, and though he didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye, he had a collection to attend to. He couldn’t leave a soul waiting.
Peter locked the café’s back door behind him and concealed the spare key in the post box on the wall; he’d left a note on the kitchen table telling her where it would be.
As he left the alley, he nearly ran into Mrs Crawford, coven member and owner of the local flower shop, sporting her tangerine beehive hairstyle.
“Mr Matherson, what are you doing sneaking out of Stoker’s first thing in the morning?” Mrs Crawford asked with a bucket of flowers in her arms. “You wouldn’t be up to trouble, would you?”
“I was just passing by. I’m afraid my troublemaking days are over,” Peter said with a cheeky grin. “Can I help you with the flowers?”
“No, I need the exercise. Carrying these buckets from the market keeps me young,” Mrs Crawford said, barely able to see over the sunflowers. Peter went to walk around her, but she blocked his path.
“I hope you won’t think I’m being nosy, but I noticed Benedict and Lucinda were helping Faye move some things into Stoker’s yesterday?” Mrs Crawford was never one to pass up the opportunity to gossip.
“Faye bought the café from Mrs Stoker, so she’s making the place her own,” Peter said.
“Don’t be coy – I saw the bedframe Lucinda brought over. Has Faye finally left that monster? Does she need any help from the coven? After all, she’s a magless and can request protection from us. We’re here for whatever she needs,” Mrs Crawford said, eager for answers.
“Faye has all the help she needs,” Peter said curtly. Her offer of help was uncharacteristically considerate of her; she wasn’t usually the lovey-dovey protective type. He sensed there was more to her sudden kindness for Faye.
“With our dear High Priestess as a close friend, I’m sure Faye’s being well looked after, but I want her to know that we’ll do whatever she needs to help,” Mrs Crawford said earnestly.
“Unless you can banish Ian from Foxford, there isn’t much to be done.” Peter threw the comment out there, knowing she didn’t like to dirty her hands directly with other people’s business.
“I don’t see why we couldn’t.” Mrs Crawford grinned, catching Peter off guard.
“We didn’t banish Ian before because we didn’t want him to take Faye from her home.
We can rescind his residency if he’s a threat to our sanctuary.
Since he’s harmed a magless, I don’t see why he wouldn’t be classed as a threat. ”
“Why don’t you give me that bucket? I’d love to know more about how we can make sure Ian doesn’t step foot in Foxford again.”
Mrs Crawford eagerly handed him the bucket.
“What would Faye have to do exactly?” Peter asked, walking down the street beside her.
“Faye would testify to his crimes before the coven or write a statement that can be presented by the High Priestess, if she doesn’t feel comfortable coming to the temple.
We would consider her testimony, and vote.
Given her frequent visits to the blood bank for transfusions, the proof is stacked against him.
He would be banished, and punished if he dared to set foot inside our borders.
Now that I think of it, he’s lucky we haven’t reported him to the Order for crimes against a magless.
I’ve no love for the Order, but nothing would brighten my day more than watching Ian fry in the morning sun,” Mrs Crawford said with glee.
Peter recalled the vote that had caused Ian and Faye’s move to the woods. Instead of banishing Ian, he had been advised to leave town. It was the best they could do to both protect the town and ensure Faye could still find her way home.
“Reporting Ian to the Order would be an option?” he asked, also interested in seeing him fry. Peter couldn’t intervene on Faye’s behalf, but that didn’t mean the coven couldn’t.
They passed the butchers and reached the flower shop, and Peter placed the bucket of fresh sunflowers with the rest of the flowers on display.
“We don’t want to involve the Order if we don’t have to, since we risk upsetting the other vamps in our community.
We need to follow protocol first: send Ian a banishment order, and if he dares to flash a fang near our borders or comes near Faye, the coven will be alerted.
Then he’ll be punished according to our laws.
The Order should always be our last option,” Mrs Crawford said, putting her key in the orange shop door.
“Forgive me for questioning your motives, but you aren’t usually so eager to get involved in matters that might divide the community,” Peter said, knowing the peace of the sanctuary relied on the trust built between magical folk and the magless.
He guessed that most, if not all, of the vampires in town were repulsed by Ian’s actions – but it was still a risk.
Mrs Crawford hesitated in the doorway. “I was in the same book club with Faye’s mother before her family left Foxford. I promised to look out for her, and I’ve failed.”
Peter didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t known about Mrs Crawford’s connection to Faye’s family. He doubted whether Faye even knew. Still, she would be relieved to see the coven had her back if and when she needed them.
Mrs Crawford cleared her throat, breaking his train of thought.
“That’s enough chitchat. I’ve got a shop to run. Should you need the coven’s help, I’m sure Faye can speak to Lucinda or Benedict.”
“Thank you for the advice. I’ll be sure to pass it on to Faye,” Peter promised. Already trimming flower stems at the counter, Mrs Crawford offered him a stiff smile, back to her usual curt self.
Peter wished they could talk more but didn’t want to push. Mrs Crawford’s plan was sound, but he didn’t want to wait for Ian to break the banishment order. It felt too risky having Ian roam free and merely hoping he would leave Faye alone when he returned from his gathering.
Crossing the street to Foxford library, located in the old, renovated church, Peter considered how there was a member of the Order living in town, though Lucy had mentioned last night that Emerson was away.
Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be reached.
As Mrs Crawford said, the coven had procedures to follow.
However, the Order could find Ian in Willow Valley, where he wasn’t offered the same protections.
If the Order found out a vampire was hurting a citizen of Foxford in Willow Valley, they would have every reason to investigate and intervene to ensure peace between magless and magical folk, he mused, smiling to himself.
He headed up the stone steps and opened the door, hoping to share his thoughts with Lucy. Peter couldn’t intervene with the living, but what was the harm in Lucy asking Emerson if he knew a hunter or two who could ensure Ian didn’t return to Foxford?
“LUCINDA! Can you call off your knights?” Peter shouted, surrounded by the enchanted suits of armour that protected the vault in the catacombs beneath the library.
“I warned you not to teleport into the vault. They’re warded against sudden invasion, and you don’t have permission to be down here – not with your history anyway,” Lucy said, walking through the torch-lit tunnel and smiling at Peter on his knees, swords at his throat.
“Rosie told me you were down here and said it would be okay.” Peter swallowed. The blades were sharp enough to take off his head, and he didn’t have time to wait for his physical form to regenerate.
“And you believed her?” Lucy chuckled. “She pranked you for her own amusement.” She settled a hand on one of the armoured knight’s shoulders.
“Can we talk about this when I don’t have a sword giving me a close shave?” Peter asked, making a mental note to send Rosie some dog treats. Wolves hated being compared to dogs.
The knights followed Lucy’s command and sheathed their swords, returned to their posts, and froze again, waiting to protect the most powerful grimoires, artefacts, and cursed objects from the next intruder.
Peter sighed in relief. “Thank you.”
“No problem, but next time, have Rosie come and get me first. I don’t think Benedict would be too happy if the knights beheaded his baby brother.” Lucy failed to conceal her amused smile.
“Don’t worry, I won’t make the same mistake twice.” Peter stayed close as he followed her to the glass vault. He had interrupted her translation work from the open text on her desk within the sealed vault.
As part of Peter’s sentence, he was forbidden from ever touching a grimoire again.
This was unsurprising, since the last time he’d used a spell from a grimoire, he’d channelled dark necromantic magic to bring his dad back.
It would have been worth it if it had worked, but it had backfired and claimed his life.
Only a fool tried to outsmart death, yet here he was again.
“I take it this isn’t a social visit?” Lucy asked as they sat on the stone steps to the vault. He couldn’t enter it or be around any magical texts, especially not ones so powerful.
“Not exactly,” he admitted. “I ran into Mrs Crawford when I left Faye’s this morning—”
“When you left Faye’s?” Lucy interrupted, her eyes widening.
“She slept on the couch.”
“How chivalrous of you,” Lucy teased.