A Strange Fire (Florence Vaine) (30 page)

 “Florence has no obligation to reveal anything to any of you,” says
Frank coldly.

 “It’s okay,” I say, placing a hand on his shoulder, since I now know how
my touch can calm him. He seems to melt instantaneously. “I’m fine with
everyone here knowing.” Then I turn to face the whole room. “I’m an Empath.” I
say to them simply. A moment of silence ensues.

 Predictably, Alex is the first to ask a question, with one dark eyebrow
raised. “What’s an Empath?”

 “An Empath is someone who can see auras. It means I c-can see what
people are feeling.”

 “You mean you can read minds?” Benji interjects, suddenly interested.

 I smile. “No. I can’t r-read minds. Every individual person has a unique
aura that surrounds their body. To all of you it’s invisible, but I can see it.
Within the aura there are colours that indicate what a person is feeling. Being
able to see these things makes me an Empath.”

 “That’s kinda cool,” says Kevin, with a huge grin.

 “I don’t know if I like it,” Alex adds with a frown. “I don’t want
anyone being able to know what I’m feeling. It’s creepy.”

 “Alex,” says Frank, mildly threatening. “Shut your mouth.”

 “Oh don’t w-worry Alex,” I interrupt, before Frank can continue. “I’ll
just make s-sure that I look at the floor when I speak to you from now on, if
that makes you more comfortable.”

 He makes a sarcastic snorting sound in response. “Yeah, that wouldn’t be
weird at all.”

 John locks eyes with me. “Frank said you saw his demon?” his voice
intrigued.

 “Yeah, um, my abilities seem to be g-getting stronger since I’ve moved
here. Like sometimes I’ll be able to sense a person’s emotional state before I
have actually seen them,” I refrain from going into detail about the evolution
of my powers. “With Frank today, I c-could see wings and the head of a dragon
coming out of his aura. I got really frightened, and that’s why he had to
explain. Please don’t punish him for it. It was my fault for overreacting.”

 John smiles. “I’d hardly call it overreacting. But don’t worry, Frank’s
a strong lad, he can take whatever punishment I decide to give him.”

 Frank rolls his eyes. “So, what exactly is this big get together about?”
he asks.

 “I got a call from an acquaintance of mine today at lunch,” says Sam. “I
went to find the two of you but discovered you weren’t in class. I’d be filing
a report for Miss Waterfield if it weren’t for the unusual circumstances, so
this time I’ll let it go.”

 “Well,” says Frank, “before you tell us what your
acquaintance
had to say, I need to tell everyone a few things Florence and I figured out
today.”

 He goes on and explains, telling them all about the possible witch who I
encountered at the school gates, the heretic’s cross on her forehead. The black
coven, Lily’s Daughter’s, and the fact that they’re most likely who we’re
dealing with here.

 “You two
have
been productive,” says Sam, once Frank’s done
talking. “I actually wasn’t sure of the coven’s name, so it’s good that you
found that out. The heretic’s cross is a new one too. However my informant did
mention a change in appearance in regards to black veins marking the skin when
these particular witches do magic.”

 “I never saw anything like that,” I say, brow furrowing.

 “That doesn’t mean we’re on the wrong path,” says Sam reassuringly.
“With dark magic, often the physical changes don’t happen until the witch has
tapped into a deeper form of magical energy. That woman pushing you to the
ground would be considered one of the more simple spells.”

 Frank interrupts then. “So what did your informant tell you, Sam?” I’m
glad he does because I really want to know too.

 Sam takes a deep breath. “It’s not a pleasant story. This particular
coven has been around for a very long time, but they move from town to town and
change their name often. That’s why it’s so difficult to pin them down, or to
determine their origins. The last place they were encountered was on the other
side of the country. A town similar to Chesterport in size and population, but
the thing that set it apart from other towns like it, especially from a hidden world
perspective, was that there was a shelter for young homeless werewolves there.
The home had over twenty young children and teenagers living in it.”

 “Over time, the older kids began to go missing. They’d go to bed at
night and when everyone woke up in the morning it was like they’d disappeared.
The adult werewolves who ran the home put it down to the older teenagers
running away in search of independence. It was only when the sixth teenager
disappeared that they discovered a clue to what was really going on.”

 “A woman who lived nearby and worked as a cleaner for the adults didn’t
show up one day for her shift. When she couldn’t be contacted by phone one of
the adults decided to go to her cottage to check if she was okay. She found the
place empty when she got there, but when she peered in the window to make sure
no one was inside she spotted a tuft of black fur caught in the arm of an old
wooden chair. She was suspicious as the fur resembled that of the last teenager
to go missing when he was in wolf form. Convinced that something was amiss, she
jimmied the window open and crept inside to find the place reeking of the smell
of the missing teenagers.”

 “They can smell each other like that?” I ask, enraptured by Sam’s story.

 “Werewolves have a much heightened sense of smell,” he answers, before
continuing, “Anyhow, the adult werewolf made sure she left no clue she’d broken
into the woman’s home, and went back to inform the others of what she had
found. The wolves kept their distance and watched the woman’s activities after
that. They followed her one evening where she went to the house of a friend in
town. The wolves hid outside in the shadows and watched as thirty to forty
other women arrived at the house and went inside.”

 “They waited for hours after that, but nothing happened until the early
hours of the morning, when a strange vibration went through the street. The
front door opened and the women began to file out, no longer wearing the
clothes they’d arrived in, but now clad in long grey hooded robes.”

 I catch my breath, knowing without a doubt that the women Sam is
describing are the exact ones I’ve witnessed in my dreams.

 “The wolves followed the women as they walked in twos silently along the
footpath. It soon became apparent to them where the women were going; the
shelter where the teenagers and younger werewolves slept. As soon as they got
close to the building the wolves attacked, catching them off guard. Many of the
witches were slaughtered, and those who weren’t fled. The wolves managed to keep
one of those they attacked alive for questioning. She was by no means the
leader, however they did get some information out of her since her loyalties
lay ultimately with her own survival rather than with the secrecy of the
coven.”

 “She told the wolves, now changed back into human form, that she’d been
working as a waitress at a local café when a woman approached her and asked her
if she’d like to join a new group of spiritualists who were setting up meetings
in the town. When she gave the wolves a description of the woman who’d
initially approached her, they were able to identify her as the woman who’d
been working for them. The waitress agreed to go along to the meetings, and for
the first few weeks they seemed very innocent. Herbal remedies, meditation, and
reaching a higher plane of spiritual awareness had been the topics of
discussion.”

 “After a while the head of the group, and the woman who’d introduced her
to it, Deanna, began to slowly sow the seeds of ambition in the waitress.
Whispering in her ear about magical rituals that could give her powers and
abilities she’d never dreamed of. Another couple of weeks passed and she had
become a fully-fledged member of the coven. Deanna revealed to her the secret
of their power, they used spells to extract powers from supernatural beings and
absorb them into themselves. She explained that the reason their appearance
changed when they used the powers they gained through the killing of young
supernaturals was because they hadn’t been born with the power they were using,
so it wasn’t natural in them. But she claimed adamantly that it was still
legitimate magic.”

 “What a load of bull,” says Alex, interrupting Sam’s narrative, which
gets him a hard and reproachful look from John. Clearly he’s big on manners.

 “So this is what they’ve come to Chesterport to do,” says Frank. “Target
Florence and the rest of us for our power, and Lauren before us. But why wait
so long to take us? I mean, it’s been two years since Lauren disappeared, why
drag things out like this?”

 Sam clears his throat before speaking. “Apparently, the ritual of
draining power from the bodies of their victims can only be performed once the
subject has reached a certain point in a certain age. Clearly, this point takes
place at some time in the later teenage years, since it was always the older of
the werewolf children who got taken.”

 “So that means there are four of us at risk,” says Ross. “Me, Alex,
Frank and Flo. Kevin and Benji are still too young.” He sits on one of the
couches with Layla at his side, his arm firmly around her waist.

 “It must b-be me they’re coming for,” I say, “especially since I’ve been
having all these dreams about them. Caroline and Lia said that Lauren was
always saying things about women coming for her. So she must have been getting
some kind of warning signals, the same way I am,” my eyes seek out Sam, willing
him in his seemingly vast knowledge to reassure me that I’m wrong.

 “It makes sense,” he replies, which is exactly the opposite of what I’d
wanted him to say, “and it seems that they’re getting closer and closer to
taking you.” He rubs the top of his head a minute, deep in thought. “What’s
your exact age, Flo?”

 “I’ll be eighteen in three months,” I answer.

 “Okay,” says Sam. “So that would mean that the four of you are at very
different stages of the same age group. Frank’s nearly nineteen, Alex won’t
turn eighteen until early next year, and Ross’ birthday is this coming Friday.
If Flo is closest to the age at which the coven takes their victims then at
least we don’t have to worry about the rest of you for now.” He turns to look
at me. “You’re going to have to be protected until we find out where these
witches are staying and who’s leading them. I’ve requested help from,” he
pauses, “my people. They should be arriving within the next few days.”

 “I’ll stay with her,” says Frank, twisting a lock of my hair around his
finger and meeting my gaze. “I won’t let anything get to you.”

 John sputters a fatherly laugh. “You will not be staying with her,
Franklin. I don’t care how much you want to play the hero. Florence can stay
here in the spare room until this all blows over. Layla, honey, you’ll go with
Flo to her grandmother’s and tell her she’s going to stay with you and your
Aunt for a few days, that way there’ll be no suspicion over her absence.”

 “Sure, no problem,” says Layla. “We’ll go straight there once we’re done
here so Flo can pack some clothes and talk to her gran.”

 It’s silly really, but it makes me feel happy that she’s doing something
nice for me, even though it’s only because John asked her.

 “Good stuff, well you can get going now,” says John. “We’re done talking
for tonight,” he puts his arm around Hayley, giving her shoulders a squeeze.
“My woman’s made spaghetti bolognaise for dinner and I’m starved.”

 Frank turns into me, thumb brushing over my inner wrist, and every time
he does this it makes me turn to mush. “Come on, I’ll drive you and Layla to
your place.”

 I nod and get up, while Frank calls to Layla, “You coming with us or
what?”

 I hear John asking Sam to stay and have dinner with them as the three of
us leave and go outside. The cool early night air hits my lungs. I breathe it
in deep. Take courage from it. Because I really am going to need some if these
witches are coming for me. That jittery feeling comes over me, reminding me of
when I was a child and people would say, “Ready or not, here I come,” when
playing hide and seek. I’m playing a real life game of it now. I sit in the
front with Frank and Layla sits in the back.

 She laughs. “Frank, you better not be planning on sneaking into poor
Flo’s room tonight and stealing her innocence. The spare room is right next to
yours after all.”

 “Shut it, Layla,” he answers, jaw tight with annoyance, might even be a
bit of embarrassment too.

 I do my best to cover the fact that I’ve gone bright red. Frank parks
the car a little down the road from Gran’s house. Layla and I get out and walk
the rest of the way. I hike my school bag up high on my shoulder.

 Inside I find Gran in the kitchen with Blanche, who says she came to
visit to see if I’d recovered from my fall last night. I can see that she’s
really just being nosy; there’s isn’t an ounce of concern in her colours. I
twirl around to demonstrate how much better I’m feeling, before I introduce
Layla as a friend from school.

 “Marguerite, Blanche,” says Layla in greeting, dipping her head ever so
politely, then continues, “Actually, I’m here to ask if it would be all right
for Flo to come and stay with me and my Aunt for a few days,” she puts an arm
around my shoulder before finishing. “The two of us are practically
inseparable.”

 Surprised to find I’ve made such a good friend in so short a time, Gran
looks to me. “Oh, well, it shouldn’t be a problem, so long as you don’t fall
behind on your school work.”

 “I won’t, I p-promise,” I say with a bright smile.

 “Goodness,” says Blanche, “the youngsters have some mad ways about them
nowadays. I remember when I was a young girl, I wouldn’t have been too keen on
seeing some of my friends once a week, never mind spending nights over in each
other’s houses.”