Page 67 of Spirit Witch
‘No,’ Winter said easily. ‘She’s off running an errand for me. She can sneak into hard-to-reach areas so I’ve sent her off to get some milk thistle. There’s a particular strain I’m after which I think will work wonderfully in a new spell I’m developing.’
‘This creature is not running an errand for you?’ George asked me.
I tried to imagine what Brutus’s response would be if I asked him to hunt for a particular herb in some godforsaken corner of the country. He’d probably return with a pile of stinging nettles and leave them in my bed so he could piss himself laughing when I tried to go to sleep. ‘Uh no. I don’t tend to use herblore much. I’m more of a rune girl.’
Winter’s father looked distinctly underwhelmed.
Sophia cleared her throat. ‘Let’s all go and sit down, shall we? Ivy, would you like a cup of tea? Dinner won’t be for another couple of hours yet.’
The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. ‘I would bloody love a cup,’ I said. Then, rather belatedly, I winced. ‘I mean, that would be lovely. Thank you.’
She quirked an eyebrow in a mannerism I instantly recognised. Unfortunately I couldn’t tell whether she was amused or horrified because she was a lot harder to read than her son. And a whole lot scarier too. I think it was because she kept smiling at me.
We were led into what I think was a drawing room. I’d never been in a drawing room before but, now that I was standing in one, I had no doubt that is what it was. Carefully taking a seat in a high-backed chair that was considerably older than all of us in this room, I felt incredibly uncomfortable – but I still couldn’t prevent myself from letting out a groan at taking the weight off my feet.
‘Make yourself at home,’ George said, flicking his hand in the air.
Thank goodness. I slumped back and began to raise my legs to tuck them underneath me. When I saw the expression on his face, I changed my mind. That hadn’t been a literal ‘make yourself at home’; I couldn’t get cold pizza out of the fridge and demand to know where the television was.
I tried to ignore the fact that Winter’s shoulders were shaking with silent laughter and looked round for Brutus. When I saw him poised to sharpen his claws on what looked like a very expensive chest, I sprang to my feet and grabbed him. He writhed in my arms and reached up with one paw to scratch my cheek. Fortunately, Winter was also standing and took him from me before I strangled him right then and there.
‘Your familiar is … interesting,’ George remarked politely.
Brutus’s head shot up and he glared at him. With one twist of his body, he leapt out of Winter’s arms and sauntered over to George. ‘Pet,’ he demanded.
Winter senior raised his eyebrows. ‘Very interesting.’ He leaned over and looked Brutus in the eye. ‘I will pet you if you behave.’
Cat stared at man and man stared at cat. I had the uneasy feeling this was going to end badly. However, Brutus flopped onto his back and presented his belly. Winter’s father did indeed reward him with a stroke. Okay, then.
Sophia bustled back in, carrying a silver tray. She set it down gently on a table. Seeing doilies and delicate china, my heart sank.
‘How do you take your tea, Ivy?’
‘Milk and four sugars.’
‘Four sugars?’ she asked, as if I wasn’t sure of my own preferences.
‘Yes.’
She pressed her lips together. I resisted telling her that I needed the energy after what Winter and I had been through. Given the visible bruises we were both sporting, our recent experiences were obvious but his parents had not commented on them. It made me wonder what Winter normally looked like when he showed up for formal dinners.
Sophia poured tea and passed me a cup and saucer. I generally like my tea in gigantic mugs I can wrap my hands around. This dainty little thing seemed like it would snap if I looked at it for too long and contained little more than a mouthful of tea. Great. I tried not to look too disappointed and murmured my thanks.
‘I cannot believe it!’ shrieked a high-pitched female voice. It shocked me so much that I jerked and spilled tea all over myself. I leapt up. It was scalding.
Sophia’s eyes widened and she dashed over with a cloth. ‘Is something the matter?’
The ghost glared at her. ‘I’ll say something’s the matter! That’s the best china! What are you doing giving this gerrl the best china?’
Winter watched me, fascination lighting his eyes. ‘Who is it, Ivy? Who do you see?’
His mother dabbed at my front while the ghost put her hands on her hips. ‘Well, that’s hardly going to help, is it?’ She tutted. Of course; where there was a ghost, there was bound to be tutting. ‘My name is Hetty, forhisinformation.’
I licked my lips. ‘Uh, a woman called Hetty.’
Sophia stopped what she was doing and stared at me. ‘Great-aunt Hetty?’
Winter coughed. ‘Recently, Ivy has discovered that she can communicate with the dead.’
