Page 13 of Sparkle Witch
‘I could have told you this was a bad idea,’ Grenville said. He looked as if he were enjoying himself. ‘The absolute worst thing you can do is give someone hope and then snatch it away from them at the last minute.’
‘I’m not snatching away hope! I’m just saying that without their help, things might get a bit hairy and there will be…’
‘No hope?’ he enquired.
I shrank into myself. ‘I’m the Global Phantom Solutions and Assurance Strategist. The only one in the world. I should be finding solutions and assuring ghosts that I have a strategy.’
Grenville raised an eyebrow. ‘Go on then.’
Er… I gazed at him beseechingly. ‘Can you…’
He folded his arms. ‘No.’
Drat.
Something white and small caught my eye as it drifted down from the sky. ‘Look!’ I shrieked, in a voice high-pitched enough to catch the attention of the squabbling ghosts. ‘Snow!’
There was a moment’s silence. I knew I didn’t have long before their fighting started again. I racked my brains. Then, before I knew it, my mouth was opening once again. ‘Away in a manger,’ I sang. ‘No crib for a bed.’
Every single ghost stared at me. I nudged Grenville to encourage him to join in but he was too astonished to do more than gape.
‘Is that daft girl singing now?’ I heard one ghost mutter.
I waved my arms around with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. ‘It’s Christmas! Get into the spirit, you spirits!’
‘Bah humbug.’
‘It’s not Christmas, you know. Christmas doesn’t begin until December 24th. Honestly, it gets earlier and earlier every year.’
The grumbling was getting louder again. I spotted Abigail appearing from around one of the buildings, leapt down from the bench and dashed towards her. ‘Anything?’ I asked. ‘Any clues? Any sign of the Angel?’
She shook her head miserably. ‘No, there’s nothing. But…’
I felt a flare of hope. ‘But what?’
She squinted. ‘Were you just standing on a bench and serenading yourself with a Christmas carol?’
Behind me I could hear Grenville laughing. ‘It’s a long story,’ I said shortly. ‘Come on, let’s get out of the cold.’
I left Grenville to his band of moaning ghosties. If I succumbed to whichever curse decided to rear its ugly head first and died horribly, they’d really have something to complain about. Of course, knowing the way my luck was going, I’d also be cursed so that I’d end up joining them and then I’d have the rest of eternity to hear their complaints. Excellent. I wouldn’t even get peace in the grave.
Merry sodding Christmas.
Chapter Eight
Winter came up behind me and wrapped his arms round my waist. I inhaled deeply, enjoying both the feel of his body against mine and his musky, male scent. Outside, the flakes of snow continued to swirl downwards.
‘Maybe,’ I said, ‘the snow is a good thing. There will be so much of it that it will extinguish any lava that comes spouting out of Oxford’s brand-spanking-new volcano which is going to appear under our feet any second now.’
Winter chuckled softly. ‘You don’t really believe that’s going to happen, do you? The volcano, I mean. The Angel could have been stolen months ago and yet there have been no ill effects whatsoever. Besides, chances are it’s only been misplaced. It’ll turn up in March in some forgotten corner. You really shouldn’t worry about it.’
I was silent for a moment. It didn’t bother me that Winter wasn’t superstitious but surely he knew that curses couldn’t be dismissed out of hand. ‘Maybe itwilljust turn up,’ I said. ‘But maybe it won’t. You know how many ghosts are in the queue to pass on because they’ve been cursed and are trapped here. There’s power in curses. Extraordinary power. We’ve searched and searched and the Angel is nowhere to be found. It might have been one of your witchy geek enemies who took it. It might have been someone who didn’t know any better. It might just have been lost by sheer accident. But whatever’s happened to it, we can’t pretend that its absence isn’t dangerous. I’ve already sent Abigail and the rest of the Neophytes home just in case – but what happens next is anyone’s guess.’
He pressed his lips to my neck. ‘Whatever comes to pass,’ he murmured, ‘I’m sure we can work it out. We always do. Between us, we’ll find a way.’
I loved his optimism. I just hoped it wasn’t misplaced.
Winter’s hand reached under my jumper, gently caressing my skin. ‘The snow might be good for other reasons,’ he purred. ‘We’ll get snowed in. We’ll be forced to stay here together with only our body heat to keep each other warm. We’ll be trapped here for days.’ His hand moved further up, his fingers grazing against my ribcage. ‘Just the two of us. No witches, no Order, no Angels, no curses…’
